#at least one married couple has to be happy in this series

[sukirichi]

suki do you think tooru will go soft and be kind to maiko like he used to be in the past?? i won't be able sleep peacefully until he hopelessly starts falling for her and desperately yearn for her affection which is fading away due to his treatment over the years😀 sorry but maiko x tooru brainrot isn't leaving me alone🥲

maiko x tooru... i can make it happen ;)

[fushitoru]

chapter 2: the aftermath a bridgerton!au

pairing ⸺ duke!satoru gojo x fem!reader

summary ⸺ dearest gentle reader, a new season is upon us as the ton gets ready for a season filled with drama, heartbreak, and passion. after being crowned diamond of the season, heir to a dukedom mr. satoru gojo⸺only looking to marry just to secure his inheritance⸺has his sights set on you, the easiest (and most obvious) option. later, when you catch his saying unsavory things about you on a terrace when he least suspected it, you swear to never marry gojo. as london's fashionable set goes through yet another wedding season, will there be hope for scandalous gossip, hate, and thinly veiled insults, or will we witness blooming love and passion?

warnings ⸺ nsfw, enemies to lovers, bridgerton au, angst, fluff, eventual smut, jealousy, misogyny, regency era au, gojo being infuriating, reader also being infuriating, both of them are clueless honestly

chapter summary ⸺ after an eventful first ball after your debut, you continue the season with thinly veiled vexation towards gojo. but fate is not on your side; you and gojo keep encountering each other, matching fire with fire (7.8k)

a/n some parts of this chapter broke my brain to write but i kind of had fun! as always thank you to @/sinn-claire for beta reading :p i was going to say i'll try to have weekly updates but i don't want to jinx it lol

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Dearest gentle reader, 

It appears that Her Majesty has bestowed the coveted title of this season’s Diamond upon none other than Miss Itadori, who has indeed lived up to her newfound acclaim as the incomparable of the year. At the latest ball, our shining Diamond was quite occupied, with suitors lining up in such numbers that one might have thought them to be queuing for the royal throne itself. Furthermore, blooms were budding between many of the debutantes and gentlemen, including…..

...Yet, one particular couple captivated the attention of all: none other than Mister Satoru Gojo and our season’s Diamond. After having kept his words sparse and his attentions limited to none, Mister Gojo appeared utterly taken with Miss Itadori, conversing with her intimately on the dance floor. It seems your humble Author was indeed correct⸺Mister Gojo has entered the marriage market. However, the exclusivity he has adopted may not deter the determined maidens he seeks to avoid, for the Ambitious Mamas will no doubt perceive his selectiveness as a challenge to be overcome. 

One cannot help but wonder if an announcement of particular interest will be made at the upcoming Gojo country house party. Although your Author has not yet laid eyes upon the guest list for the Duchess Gojo’s anticipated gathering, reliable sources suggest that nearly every eligible young lady of marriageable age will be journeying to Kent next week. The country house party is known to be a perilous affair. Married individuals often find themselves enjoying the company of someone other than their spouse, while the unwed frequently return to town betrothed with surprising haste.

Indeed, the most unexpected engagements often follow closely on the heels of such rustic diversions.

⸻ LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS

Satoru had no intention of squandering his time this season⸺or at any time, for that matter.

The notion of love matches held little appeal to him, despite witnessing such a union firsthand in his own parents. Make no mistake, the Duke and Duchess Gojo enjoyed a happy marriage, and Satoru held both his father and mother in the highest regard. Yet, he was perfectly content on his own.

Being one of the strongest bachelors⸺both intellectually and physically⸺has been Satoru’s destiny. Ever since his ancestors had been blessed by the royal family with the dukedom, the Gojo family had made its goal to be the most powerful nobility and the closest to the royal family. (Which is still maintained in the status quo, because the Queen dotes on Satoru, inviting him for tea every fortnight. The Queen lavished him with overly sweet biscuits, and in return, Satoru provided her with the latest gossip from court). 

But this responsibility doesn’t get fulfilled without independence; one had to accept the solitary truth that to be truly great was to remain unswayed by the fleeting pleasures of the world⸺love included.

Satoru had little time or interest for the other vices that tempted men of his station, such as lust. Contrary to the whispers circulating among the ton, Satoru had never indulged in the life of a rake or frequented brothels as many of his acquaintances did. Really, the allegations were, in truth, merely just a byproduct of his appearance and demeanor; with a young man with the stature, face, and eligibility of Satoru, the public would immediately like to slap on the label of “rake” due to his arrogant personality. Moreover, any encounters he had witnessed between men and women⸺whether dropping his friends off at brothels in his carriage after an evening at the gentleman’s club or overhearing flirtations at parties⸺struck him as shallow and an utter waste of time, especially when he was already a week behind on the ledgers and other official matters his father had entrusted to him. (He did have one indulgence, however: a weakness for gluttony, with an array of sweet confections as his loyal companions during long, sleepless nights.)

Marriage was an even greater burden. The thought of being accountable for a wife, and eventually children, seemed like a daunting task to Satoru. With sleepless nights spent on covering just a fraction of the business his father must do as a duke, Satoru was tired. He was exhausted⸺exhausted from the weight of responsibility, from striving to meet his father’s expectations, from seeking the Queen’s approval, from worrying over what Whistledown might print about him, and from the gossip of the businessmen with whom the Gojo family dealt. 

And yet, despite this weariness, Satoru was gripped by an insatiable obsession with perfection, an obsession that only deepened his fatigue. He craved approval, power, and the flawless execution of his duties⸺desires that gnawed at him even as they threatened to consume him.

Which is exactly why he needed a perfect wife. A wife that was capable, could handle bothersome people⸺which he was steadily losing the patience to deal with⸺and a reliable companion. Someone that would reduce his stress, not add to it. 

Satoru had spent all day lurking in the shadows as best as he could; being the most eligible bachelor did mean that brothers and sisters were coming up to him, singing praises of their debutante in an effort to capture his interest. But Satoru knew all too well that the loudest families often had the most to compensate for.

As ladies in white paraded before the crowd, many buckling under the weight of judgment and attention, Satoru prowled like a jungle cat, staying hidden in the throng, biding his time, and waiting for the right moment to strike.

What he noticed first about you was your way of carrying yourself. Even Auntie⸺the Queen⸺who, after seeing countless of girls today, had been incredibly bored, dragged her eyes over you in slightly more interest than she did for others. The moment you stepped through those grand doors into the court, it was evident to everyone that your stride was that of someone who understood her role and position in life⸺a confidence that set you apart from the other debutantes. Satoru’s eyes raked over you, observing you as your chest rose slightly as you took a breath in. 

And then you smiled.

Satoru's eyes widened, just imperceptibly, as he watched your expression as you made your way to the Queen. He made sure to shake his expression off to a more nonchalant one as he watched your form walk. Lesser men than Satoru would die for your smile. Men, out of all traits a woman could possess, cherished a pretty visage the most. Yet, what your smile conveyed went beyond mere beauty; it embodied innocence and the qualities most esteemed in a demure bride (which Satoru knew was just all a show, but it was indeed indicative of your skill to put up appearances, hence deeming you a reliable companion).

The corner of the young man's mouth rose.  When the Queen declared you the diamond of the season, Satoru knew he had found his quarry.

When the ball came, Satoru acted similarly: observing from behind, staying in conversation with his friends and other noble men that did business with the Gojo family as he prowled the ballroom, waiting for the right moment to ask you for your hand. And then Naoya came in when you were finally alone, away from all the incompetent men that dared to think they had a chance to court you, and Satoru almost laughed snarkily at how easy it all was. 

Approaching you, saving you from Naoya⸺it was all a perfect construction of his. Dancing, he noticed your steps were carried out with a practiced perfection and grace, and your responses to his questions displayed a respectable level of intellect. He could tell your responses were practiced and simple, your constitution and demeanor a result of much effort into presenting yourself as best as you could. But what does it matter, when you do it so perfectly?

Maybe it was a bit naive of him, but you seemed to glow when conversing with him. It amused him, as he kept watching your pretty eyes as you kept smiling while he kept throwing difficult questions at you. It was all expected, however. Satoru knew he was blessed with the brilliant blue Gojo eyes and eccentric fair, white hair; he was the most eligible bachelor for not only wealth and power but reproductive capabilities and opportunities as well. Which lady wouldn’t want to be mother to his cute and beautiful blue-eyed babies?

After witnessing such mediocre men who paled in comparison to Satoru, surely you must be smitten. Gojo could see right through you: you, the diamond, have been looking for a man as meritorious as you, and you had found it in Satoru. 

So why were you acting this way?

When you wake up in the morning and get ready for suitors, it is as you expected; there are multiple carriages outside your doorstep, and there is a line from the drawing room, extending all the way down the stairs. When Choso stumbles into the drawing room, where you and your mother are enjoying tea, he is clearly unhappy at the selection of men waiting to be let in to call upon you. 

“This is absurd!” Choso’s hands raked over his hair in an effort to process the scene he had just witnessed. “Why do I see Naoya waiting outside?”

Your nose crinkled in distaste. “Well, dear brother, I certainly cannot control which suitors call upon me. He must’ve enjoyed our conversation yesterday. The enjoyment, however, is one sided.”

Choso’s eyes widened comically. “You had a conversation with him yesterday?” He then turned to your mother accusingly, who was reading a Whistledown while sipping on her tea innocuously. “This would not have happened if I was there, Mother. This is your fault.”

Your mother continued drinking her tea nonchalantly, waiting for a few beats to grace him with a response. “I prefer this, my son, to no visitors out there because our dear Lord Itadori scared all the bachelors away with his pickiness.” Then, her eyes flashed. “And don’t give me that tone.”

You snickered behind your palm as Choso visibly deflated.

 “Kuna! Get back here!”

Pitter patters of small paws started to get closer and closer, as heavy footsteps followed it. Yuji and the family corgi, Sukuna Jr., burst into the room. Eyeing the biscuit in your hand, Kuna made his way directly to you, panting at your feet. A pet given affectionately by your-not-so-affectionate older brother, Sukuna, when he left for his year long trip around Europe, Kuna was the cutest little puppy. You and Yuji loved to spoil him, clearly shown as Yuji patted him while breathing heavily. You cooed as Kuna licked your fingers while inhaling the biscuit you had presented him. 

“Well,” your mother stood up, having finished her tea, and began ushering in the maids to clear the table. “It seems our morning will be quite busy. You’d best be prepared for a long day, my dear.”

Choso was still grumbling as he took a seat across from you, his eyes narrowing at the sight of the long line of suitors outside. “I’m keeping an eye on that Naoya fellow. If he so much as looks at you the wrong way…”

You raised an eyebrow at your brother’s protectiveness, feeling both amused and touched. “Choso, I appreciate your concern, but I can handle myself. Besides, with Kuna here, I doubt any of these gentlemen will get too close without proper approval.”

As if understanding the conversation, Sukuna Jr. barked enthusiastically, his tail wagging as he looked up at you with bright, expectant eyes. You smiled and scratched behind his ears, watching as his tiny body wriggled with joy.

Yuji, still catching his breath from the chase, flopped onto the chair beside you, shooting a grin at Choso. “Come on, big brother, give her a break. It’s not every day our sister gets declared the diamond of the season. Let her enjoy it.”

Choso crossed his arms, still unconvinced. “I’m just saying, if any of these men don’t meet my standards⸺”

“Your standards?” you interrupted with a teasing lilt. “Choso, I’d never find a husband if I had to meet your impossible standards. Besides, you should be more concerned about finding someone yourself.”

Choso’s cheeks tinted with a slight blush, but make no mistake; he was hot with anger, ready to make a snarky retort. Your mother, who had been overseeing the maids, turned her attention back to the conversation with a soft smile.

“Your sister is right, Choso. It’s her time to shine, and as her family, we should support her, not make things more difficult.” She gave him a pointed look before turning to you with a gentler expression, and he backed down as he always does for your mother. “Now, my dear, are you ready to begin receiving your guests?”

You took a deep breath, nodding as you steeled yourself for the hours of polite conversation and careful navigation of the social battlefield ahead. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Good,” your mother said, her voice laced with both pride and encouragement. “Remember, you are the diamond of the season. There isn’t a man out there who wouldn’t be lucky to have you.”

You offered a weak smile. “Let’s get this over with.”

As you walked toward the sofa where you would be talking with suitors, Kuna trotted alongside you, his presence a comforting reminder.With Yuji and Choso trailing behind, and your mother leading the way to open the door, you braced yourself for the onslaught of admirers waiting beyond the door.

But as you straighten your posture, in anticipation to greet the first suitor, you couldn't help but glance down at Kuna, who stared up at you with wide, curious eyes. You chuckled softly.

“Well, Kuna,” you whispered, “let’s see who passes your test today.”

Gojo’s gaze wandered down to Sukuna Jr. in your lap as you stroked his fur, and he gave you a saccharine⸺yet strained⸺smile. “Must this dog bear witness to our conversation? 

As if sensing Gojo’s unfriendliness, Kuna started growling, and you could feel the rumble deep in his stomach. You met Gojo’s sweet smile with one of your own. “Yes.”

Gojo blinked, and the smile on his face faltered. You noticed that this was one of the first time Gojo’s ever expressed an emotion outside of smugness, and you count this as your personal win.

“Well,” he hesitated, and then a smile was on his face as if that stumble didn’t happen. “You look wonderful this morning, Miss Itadori.”

Your eyes flashed at his audacity to talk behind your back and try to fool you with flattery. “On the contrary, I think I look rather simple.”

Gojo, none the wiser as to what you were referring to, waved his hands. “Nonsense.”

Before you could respond, Kuna let out a low, rumbling growl, his sharp eyes fixed on Gojo. The sound was subtle, but in the quiet of the morning, it was unmistakable. Gojo’s gaze flickered down to the small dog, and his smile tightened ever so slightly.

You gently scratched behind Kuna’s ears, calming him, though his gaze never left Gojo. “I apologize on behalf of my dear Kuna,” you said, your voice light but nonetheless pointed. “He tends to be wary of many, particularly those he believes to be with ulterior motives.”

Gojo nodded, unfazed, and looked down at the dog in question. Upon eye contact, all your efforts to calm Kuna went to naught as the dog stood up, tense and teeth almost bared fully, to stare back at Gojo defiantly. Gojo, to his credit, was starting to be a little wary and was giving the pup an impassive stare. 

“You know, I have an affinity for dogs. There are many pups that I have spent my entire childhood with.” He offered a chuckle and moved his hand to pet Kuna. “Dogs do have a way of sensing things, don’t they?” That was clearly the wrong decision because the dog’s growl grew louder, and suddenly, he snapped at Gojo’s hand. Before Kuna could sink his teeth into Gojo’s hand, however, Gojo smoothly withdrew it out of his reach. 

“Protective, isn’t he?” Gojo laughed, but his stare towards Kuna was veering more and more into a glare. He tried to disguise his irritation by suavely adding, “Admirable. I’m glad he has protected my lady so well.” Gojo then grabbed your hand to give you a small kiss on the back of it while keeping eye contact. You had to divert your eyes elsewhere to avoid coloring your cheeks; while you knew this was just another one of Gojo’s pretenses to charm you, you were still fazed by it. 

You cleared your throat and tried to uphold the conversation. After all, it would be outright rude to keep throwing thinly veiled insults his way when there were others in your company; he also had the potential to spread further malicious rumors about you if you showed attitude. You mustered up a fake smile, and offered, “He was a gift to me and Yuji offered by my older brother, Sukuna, when he went traveling,” you offered. 

“Is that the brother you hoped to follow to Europe?”

You blinked and faltered. You didn’t expect him to remember that tidbit from your conversation at the ball last night. While most of the preferences you had asserted were artificial⸺supplemented to you by your tutor, who had drilled what fake preferences of yours would woo men⸺you truly did gain enthusiasm for the languages because you hoped to prove your helpfulness to Sukuna in an effort to run away from your inevitable debut. At the time, you were rebelling against anything your mama said, avoiding anything  associated with being paraded around like an animal, put on display for men. “Yes,” you said slowly, “Yes, it is.” 

Gojo smiled, this time a little more genuine at the fact it was his first time receiving an authentic response from you this morning, rather than something covered with a fake smile. Just as he leaned in slightly, probably preparing to make another smooth remark, Kuna, who had been shifting in your lap, suddenly stilled, his face buried in your lap and tail facing Gojo. For a moment, you thought he might be settling down.

And then it happened.

The largest fart ripped through the room out of Kuna’s arse, which was pointed directly in Gojo’s face. While you were not a scholar studying physics, you were aware that the air dynamics did not do Gojo any favors in preventing the smell from hitting him direct-on. Gojo’s eyes widened in surprise, and his suave expression faltered entirely as the smell quickly followed, filling the air around you both.

You could feel the heat rushing to your face in your effort not to laugh out loud. Trying to keep your composure, you gently patted Kuna’s belly, who was now face up, tongue lolling out in bliss. “Oh, dear,” you muttered, your voice strained with the effort to suppress a laugh.

Gojo, for once, was at a loss for words. His eyes were tearing up, probably at the smell; whenever you and Yuji spoiled Kuna with those biscuits, he dropped nasty-smelling dungs, and you knew Gojo wasn’t spared at all. The arrogant bachelor, who always seemed to have a witty response ready, was now at a loss of words as he weakly gazed upon the weak little poot! poot!s that escaped Kuna as you continued patting his stomach in an effort to relieve your pup’s digestive system.

At Gojo’s expression, you had to take quiet, deep breaths in an effort to rein in the cackles that were threatening to overcome you. You resorted to covering your mouth as you strained, “As you can see, my Kuna is quite expressive, and he seemed quite eager to show you that.”

He offered you a strained smile. “He does indeed generate quite a bit of wind.” At that, you could no longer hold back. Genuine laughter wracked through your figure, hurting your ribs as you tried to quell it with a hand to the mouth, but no avail. Your muffled laughter was still loud, and when the giggles subsided, you wiped your tears and threw an apologetic look at Gojo, preparing to express your regret. 

But you stopped at the sheer wonder he contained in his face as his gaze fixated on your lips, which were drawn back in the ghost of the smile you had while laughing riotously. Without allowing you much time to dwell on it, he stood up and dipped his head in a little bow. “Well, I have been taking quite a bit of your time, Miss Itadori. I better let other suitors have their chance.” He kissed the back of your hand. “I hope to see you at the horse race tomorrow.”

“Likewise.” You couldn’t help but spy some red coloring Gojo’s alabaster cheeks as he made his way to the exit. As you greeted the next suitor, the imprint of a certain man’s lips continued to tingle on your hands. 

“I told you he was a rake,” Nobara muttered as she scrubbed your arm with an intensity that matched her outrage. After hearing what Gojo had said about you, she was livid. Unfortunately, your skin was bearing the brunt of her frustration.

“Well,” you mused, trying to distract her, “what rumors have you heard that make you think that?”

“Momo told me a few months ago⸺” Nobara paused, her hands hovering over the various bottles on the counter. “Which scent would you prefer for your hair?”

“Sandalwood,” you replied.

Nobara nodded and poured some of the rich liquid into her hands before massaging it into your scalp. You closed your eyes, feeling the tension from the day's exhausting and dull conversations slowly melt away under her skillful fingers. “Momo mentioned that he’s often out late at night, which seems suspicious. But now that I think about it, Momo isn’t the most reliable source,” Nobara added, her tone shifting to one of skepticism.

You quirked an eyebrow. “Why do you say that?”

“There’s talk that she attempted to lure another maid’s husband into an affair,” Nobara replied, her hands now working the shampoo through your hair with a practiced ease. “She even tried to gain access to his quarters.”

You gasped. “How scandalous!”

“I know,” Nobara said, her hands now massaging the back of your neck with a gentler touch. “So, who knows how much truth there is to her gossip. But still, Gojo’s behavior is less than honorable, don’t you think?”

You sighed, gazing up at the ceiling with a mix of frustration and resignation. “He was gossiping about me with other men, calling me all sorts of horrible things⸺‘simple,’ of all things. And yet, he has the audacity to want to call upon me?”

“You know,” Nobara mused as she continued her task, “He sounds the exact opposite of what some of your books would imply.”

You hummed in agreement, recalling the radical works you kept hidden beneath your bed. Your mother would be appalled if she ever discovered them, but you often sought solace in political writings that challenged the rigid expectations of society. “I know. And that is precisely why I have no intention of encouraging his attention this season—at least, not before I ensure his complete and utter humiliation.”

“But do take care. His connections to the Queen are quite strong.”

You drew back from Nobara's hands, much to her chagrin. She gave you a glare while you exclaimed, "What?"

“Surely you’re aware that the Gojo dukedom is among the closest to the royal family?”

You fervently hoped your mother hadn’t caught wind of Gojo's status. Yet, the way she had been observing you⸺subtly scrutinizing you in the drawing room while feigning interest in a suitor awaiting his turn⸺suggested otherwise. She had certainly noticed Gojo's growing interest, and the thought of her getting involved, fixating on a match with him, filled you with dread. Drawing your hands over your face, you moaned, the very notion of her scheming to pair you with Gojo weighing heavily on your mind.

“But that should hardly be a concern if you’ve begun to distance yourself from him, correct? You have been creating some distance, haven’t you?”

Your silence spoke volumes, and Nobara, ever quick to discern your hesitation, gasped in exasperation. “You cannot seriously be considering giving this gentleman any encouragement, can you?”

"No, no, it’s not that,” you replied, massaging your temples in frustration. “It’s just that my mother is probably ecstatic at the prospect of securing a match between me and Gojo.”

“But surely, if she knew the things he’s been saying behind your back, she would understand.”

You tried to open your mouth to respond, but it felt as if your throat had closed up. Would she really? A match with Gojo would mean elevated status for the Itadori family⸺a duchess for a daughter. What worth is there in being the diamond of the season if not to secure the most advantageous match? The very thought made your chest tighten with the suffocating realization that your mother might very well advocate for the union, despite Gojo’s duplicity.

“I⸺” you swallowed. “I’m not sure.” Before Nobara could interrupt, you stood up and reached for your robe. 

Nobara's brow furrowed as she watched you stand up. "Where do you think you're going? You’re not done with your bath, and your hair is still full of suds!" She reached out to stop you, her hands hovering as though unsure whether to pull you back into the tub or grab the robe you were now clutching.

You forced a small, tired smile, grateful for the distraction. “I need just a moment. The water's gone cold, anyway.”

“Oh, nonsense! You’ll catch a chill if you get out now. Sit back down,” Nobara insisted, her protest tinged with genuine concern. She placed a firm hand on your shoulder, guiding you back toward the warm water.

With a reluctant sigh, you allowed yourself to be coaxed back into the tub. The momentary reprieve from the conversation was a relief, and you welcomed Nobara’s determined focus on completing your bath. She picked up a sponge, her earlier frustration melting into concentration as she scrubbed your back.

“Well, we can discuss that scheming rake later,” she muttered, more to herself than to you. “For now, let’s get you properly cleaned up before your mother comes looking for you. She’d never forgive me if I let you appear anything less than perfect.”

You nodded with a lump in your throat, grateful for the change in topic, even if only temporary. The soothing rhythm of Nobara's hands working through your hair, the warmth of the bathwater, and the familiar, comforting routine helped ease the tightness in your chest. For now, the troubling thoughts of Gojo and your mother's ambitions could be set aside.

“Now, hold still,” Nobara said, her tone softening as she rinsed the last of the soap from your hair. “We’ll have you looking radiant again in no time.”

The conversation was left unfinished, hanging in the air like a question that neither of you was quite ready to answer. But for now, the silence was a welcome refuge.

"Do you have any notion of how impossible it is to charm a lady when there is a pup expelling such foul air right beneath your nose?" Satoru lamented, leaning back in his chair and raking a hand through his tousled hair. The trio gathered at the table presented a rather unusual sight: Satoru, visibly discomposed; Nanami, calmly sipping his drink as ever; and Suguru, nearly doubled over in laughter at his friend’s misfortune.

“Would you please⸺SMACK⸺cease your laughing?!” Satoru glared at Suguru, who seemed to be of no hope, now with tears in his eyes as he clutched his stomach and the back of his head, which Satoru had just hit. 

“Truly, your vanity⸺haaah⸺your vanity was in need of humbling,” Suguru managed between breaths, still snickering behind his palms. 

Satoru glowered, crossing his arms and staring daggers into his drink, as if his gaze alone could break the fine glass. “My pride had already suffered enough. She was positively frigid.”

Nanami hummed. “Perhaps she’s merely discerned your true nature.”

“It defies comprehension,” Gojo groaned, ignoring Kento’s statement. “What kind of lady disparages her own beauty as ‘simple’? I cannot fathom what has caused her such vexation. Only the night before, she was utterly taken with me!”

Suguru⸺who had now calmed down⸺was in the midst of wiping his tears when he suddenly stopped. “You don’t suppose it had anything to do with your careless words, do you?”

Kento eyed the pair in front of him with an accusatory side eye. “And what precisely did you say?”

 “Satoru, in his usual fashion, could not contain his tongue. Out on the terrace, with the garden as witness, he spoke rather unkindly, referring to the diamond as ‘simple and dull.’”

“Nonsense,” Satoru waved his hands, dismissing the idea. “The lady would never wander the gardens at such an hour in the night unchaperoned.”

“I suggest you reconsider.” Kento gave him a stern look and continued, “I happened upon her last night, emerging from the gardens, and she appeared rather disheveled.” 

This revelation gave Satoru pause, but if there was one thing certain about Satoru Gojo, it was this: his arrogance was such that he could scarcely fathom anyone, least of all a lady, finding his charm anything but irresistible⸺even if that very lady had overheard him uttering defamatory remarks about her. And this lady was one he could not let go of, unless he wanted to wave good-bye to his future.

“I am confident all will be well,” Gojo exhaled, his lips curving into a Cheshire smile. “Even if she did overhear, surely a few well-chosen sweet words will surely set matters right.”

(He was most grievously mistaken.)

“How many of those biscuits do you suppose we could finish?” Yuji was eyeing the biscuits from his seat next to you in the pavilion where you and your family were sitting. Out promenading with the other families of the ton, it was a scenic and beautiful day for you to mingle with even more suitors. The joy!

“Certainly less than me,” you remarked, sipping on your tea smugly. By the irritated pout on his face, you knew you were successful at getting a rise out of your younger brother. Knowing your mother wasn’t in sight, you quickly darted for the jam-filled biscuits, and your brother quickly followed in tow; soon, you were both stuffing your faces silly with the sugary treats.

“You two are incorrigible,” Choso scrunched his nose from where he sat across from you, arms crossed. “There’s no need to inhale those biscuits. What if someone sees?”

Yuji stuck out his tongue⸺now adorned with biscuit crumbs⸺and continued gorging, while you snickered at your younger brother’s pettiness.

“Miss Itadori.”

You began coughing wildly, caught off guard, and hastily straightened your posture to greet your guest. You turned to see Lord Ino, who offered you a slight nod before acknowledging your brothers. “Lord Itadori. Mister Itadori.”

“Lord Ino, nice to meet you on such a fine day.” You try to put a smile on your face as best as you can, even though you were caught off guard. “How do you find today’s weather?” 

Takuma grabs the back of your hand to kiss it. “I find it wonderful for the prospect of promenading. Do you care to do so with me?”

“Of course,” You stand up and link your elbows with Takuma’s.

“We’ll be thirty paces behind you, sister.” You both turned to look at Choso, who was giving Lord Ino his inevitable protective glare. Given Ino’s acceptable station, Choso hadn’t immediately protested, unlike the many suitors he had chased out of your manor the day before. He grabbed Yuji by the elbow, who, with cheeks comically inflated like a chipmunk hoarding acorns, was promptly dragged away. “Yuji, get up.” The last you saw of your brothers was Yuji’s futile protests, his mouth too full to be coherent⸺inevitably sending some crumbs flying onto Choso⸺and Choso swatting him for it.

As you began your walk with Lord Ino, the conversation naturally turned to the upcoming horse race. “Are you looking forward to the race this afternoon?” you asked, trying to keep the conversation light.

“I am,” the lord replied. “And you?”

“Very much so,” you said, a hint of excitement in your voice. “I have a feeling that the less popular horse⸺Blaze, was it?⸺might surprise everyone. The conditions seem just right for an underdog victory; the track is soft and warm, which would favor Blaze’s build.”

Lord Ino glanced at you with a polite but unconvinced smile. “But Thunder has higher odds and more bets. It’s as simple as that.”

You couldn’t help but bristle at the word “simple,” a word that had recently come to grate on your nerves. You pressed on, though, determined to keep the conversation pleasant. “I suppose there’s some truth to that, but sometimes there’s more to a race than just the odds and popularity.”

Ino chuckled softly. “Well, a good mentor and friend of mine⸺Duke Nanami⸺agrees with the odds, and His Grace is someone I deeply respect. I tend to follow his lead⸺the duke has a way of teaching lessons without hindering one’s growth.”

Before you could respond, the sound of a trumpet blared in the distance, signaling the start of the race. You looked at him, giving him a courteous nod, gesturing in the general direction Choso and Yuji were supposed to be in. “It seems the race is about to begin. I must rejoin my family.”

You curtsied as he bowed, and you watched as he walked away, leaving you momentarily alone. You took a deep breath, trying to dispel the lingering irritation from the conversation. Just as you began looking for your family, you felt a presence approaching.

You turned to find Lady Mei Mei and her entourage closing in. Their expressions were a study in artful contempt, laced with curiosity and barely concealed amusement. The atmosphere between you was thick with unspoken competition, each woman silently gauging the other’s position on the social ladder. 

“Miss Itadori, what a nice surprise!” Lady Mei Mei remarked, her tone dripping with false sweetness. “It appears you are alone and unchaperoned in a garden yet again! At least, according to what the rumors say. Was it part of yet another one of your charming ploys to get what you want?"

You met her gaze with cool composure, not giving her the satisfaction of a visible reaction. "I have no clue what you're talking about."

Lady Mei Mei tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing as if appraising a particularly interesting specimen. "Really?" she mused, drawing out the word as though savoring it. "It’s just that Lord Gojo hasn’t spoken with you all day. Even if Whistledown commended you in the last issue, I wouldn’t expect his interest to linger." The two ladies flanking her⸺unremarkable save for their sycophantic attachment to Mei Mei⸺giggled behind their fans, as though she had delivered a crushing blow.

You allowed yourself a small, almost imperceptible smile, one that didn’t reach your eyes. "So I’m assuming he called upon you?" you questioned sweetly, your voice laced with feigned politeness.

For a fleeting moment, Lady Mei Mei’s carefully curated composure slipped, the faintest flicker of irritation crossing her face before she regained control. She leaned in slightly, her voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper meant for you alone. “None of the suitors will be interested in you any longer. The Queen may have mistakenly proclaimed you the diamond, but a pretty face, empty smiles, and hollow words can only last so long.”

“Whatever would be most convenient for you to believe.” Her words were empty and her threats dull, but you couldn’t help but let it compound on the irritation you had experienced today. But you knew better than to let your tongue loose; you were quite impulsive when you had started, and you didn’t want to start any scandal anytime soon. Instead, you held your ground, trying to maintain your composure (outwardly, at least) as Lady Mei Mei and her entourage turned to leave, their laughter echoing in your ears. 

You tried to implement a few things your tutor had ingrained in you: taking deep breaths and setting your posture correctly. However, as you stood there, collecting yourself, the last thing you needed seemed to manifest before you: Satoru Gojo.

His tall figure approached you with that familiar, self-assured stride, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Ah, Miss Itadori," he greeted, a sly smile playing on his lips. You were already irritated, and it took all your will-power to stifle a groan. 

"I couldn’t help but notice you were conversing with Lord Ino," he remarked casually.

Give him a smile. "Indeed, we were enjoying a promenade. It is, after all, what young ladies and their suitors are expected to do."

“Quite the choice in company!”

KEEP up the smile.  "He is a nobleman, and I am of noble descent. I fail to see your point, Mr. Gojo." 

Gojo’s smile was quick and cutting. “Oh, I’ve no particular quarrel with Lord Ino. It’s simply that he’s hardly the sort I’d expect to see on your arm. After all, he’s practically Nanami’s lapdog.”

You felt the familiar irritation rising within you⸺and you were fighting for your life trying to keep a smile on your face⸺but you kept your tone measured. "And what, pray tell, are you implying by that, Mr. Gojo?"

"It’s quite simple, really⸺" 

But your patience, already worn thin, snapped at that word.

"My good sir, do you not think it rather dishonorable to speak ill of others behind their backs?" Gojo began to respond, but you cut him off. "It’s curious how quickly opinions can change, is it not? Just the other evening, you seemed to hold me in rather low regard. Tell me, do you often dismiss people as ‘simple’ when they fail to meet any of the lofty expectations you have set? Or do you perhaps truly believe yourself to be at a station higher than others?"

Gojo stiffened, the smile slipping from his face as your words hit their mark. Before he could respond, Choso appeared at your side, his protective presence a welcome relief.

“Is there any problem, sister?” Choso asked, his tone polite yet firm as he glanced at Satoru, his eyes narrowing slightly.

Gojo’s gaze flicked to Choso, his irritation clear as he opened his mouth to make a cutting remark, and you couldn’t thank the gods enough for Choso’s mother hen tendencies. But the words faltered when he recognized who had interrupted. For a brief moment, surprise flashed in his eyes before he masked it with a tight-lipped smile.

You seized the moment, turning to Satoru with a sweet smile. “I think our time is up, Mister Gojo,” you said, your voice laced with venom.

Satoru hesitated for just a fraction of a second before nodding curtly, his expression unreadable. “Of course. Until next time, Miss Itadori.”

With that, he stepped back, allowing you and Choso to walk away toward where people were gathering for the race. As you moved through the crowd, you could feel Satoru’s gaze lingering on you, but you didn’t look back.

“That horse appears rather stout, does it not?” Yuji squinted against the blazing sun as he observed the horses from his seat beside you in the grandstand. “Why has it garnered so many bets?”

Choso, seated protectively on your other side, kept a steady arm linked with yours. His presence was reassuring, though your irritation was directed at the figure seated just below you. Satoru Gojo, to your endless chagrin, was sitting with Lady Mei Mei, who had all but forced her way into the seat beside him. Though he tried to appear indifferent, his signature flirty remarks flowing with ease, you noticed the subtle signs of irritation crossing his face. Whether it stemmed from Lady Mei Mei's advances or from your earlier exchange, you couldn't be sure. You refused to meet his gaze, though you could feel his eyes on you intermittently as the crowd waited for the race to begin.

“Men can be quite foolish at times,” you remarked hotly, your voice carrying just enough to be overheard. “Some people value the superficial and materialistic over true substance, much like they do with horses. Blaze, for instance, has the qualities that truly matter.”

You could almost feel Gojo’s gaze intensify, and despite yourself, you glanced in his direction. Lady Mei Mei, ever the actress, feigned a stumble, exclaiming with a coy smile, “These crowds are rather rough on a lady!”

You scoffed inwardly at her transparent attempt to press her bosom against Gojo’s arm.

“Oh my,” Gojo drawled, his voice oozing concern. “We can’t have that, can we?” Ever the gallant gentleman, he interlaced his arm with hers. “Here, for extra protection. I wouldn’t want a pretty lady shedding tears beside me.”

Mei Mei’s smirk was as satisfied as a serpent after a meal, and she batted her eyelashes coquettishly. “If I were to cry, would you console me?”

“Of course,” Gojo replied smoothly. “Though I might find myself crying should my horse lose. The bets I’ve placed are rather substantial.”

A flirtatious giggle escaped Mei Mei’s lips. “Then I shall cheer with all my might, so you needn’t suffer any losses, my lord.”

You were perilously close to tearing your hair out.

“I appreciate your enthusiasm, my lady,” Gojo said, taking her hand and kissing the back of it with exaggerated flourish. “But rest assured, I am quite confident of a victory today. Thunder is swift and cunning, far superior to that... other horse. It’s simple, really—Thunder will win.”

Your composure cracked. “Yuji,” you called, your voice sharp. Your brother, who had been lost in thought, snapped to attention. “Despite the other horse’s popularity, Blaze possesses the one quality universal to all champions: speed and diligence. The track conditions are in its favor.”

Yuji, caught off guard, blinked in confusion. “Yes, of course, sister,” he mumbled, clearly unsure of why you were addressing him.

“And anyone who thinks otherwise,” you continued, raising your voice slightly, “is bound to lose their money. Sorely and simply.”

Gojo matched your tone, his voice ringing out. “But of course, it’s all in good fun. There’s no need for hostility over a sport, is there? Both horses are fine contenders, though I remain convinced Thunder shall emerge victorious.”

Mei Mei tittered, parroting his sentiments, but you could hardly see straight for the anger coursing through you. Unable to hold back, you retorted, “However, it is, after all, still a race. And Blaze will win.”

By now, your exchange had drawn the attention of those around you, including your brothers. Choso and Yuji exchanged puzzled glances before Yuji asked weakly, “Are you still talking to us, sister?” Meanwhile, Choso’s protective instincts flared, his gaze darting suspiciously between you and Gojo.

Before you could reply, the horses lined up at the starting gate, and the crowd collectively rose to their feet, including Gojo. “Steady now, Thunder!” he called out, his voice brimming with confidence.

Not to be outdone, you shouted, “Come on, Blaze!”

The bell rang, and the horses surged forward, the crowd erupting in cheers. Blaze and Thunder quickly pulled ahead, the two horses locked in a fierce battle for the lead. Thunder was currently ahead, its sleek form cutting through the track with precision.

“Steady, Thunder! Keep the lead!” Gojo’s voice was full of excitement, urging his horse onward.

Your heart raced with frustration as Blaze lagged slightly behind. “You can do this, Blaze!” you urged, your voice rising above the din. Without thinking, you began whistling sharply, drawing alarmed looks from your brothers. The stares from the crowd meant nothing to you as you focused solely on the race.

Blaze, as if responding to your encouragement, began to accelerate, its powerful strides eating up the ground between it and Thunder. You noticed Thunder’s pace faltering, fatigue setting in, while Blaze surged ahead, pulling into the lead with a quarter of the race remaining.

Now it was Gojo’s turn to whistle, his voice tinged with desperation. “Straight to the finish line, Thunder! Don’t let up!”

But Blaze only widened the gap, its momentum carrying it farther ahead. You couldn’t contain your laughter, a joyous sound that bubbled up from within as Blaze crossed the finish line first, with Thunder trailing behind.

“Goddamn it,” Gojo cursed under his breath, his frustration palpable. You clapped your hands in delight, your laughter ringing out.

With deliberate grace, you placed your hands on your hips and turned to Gojo, flashing him a triumphant smile. “I’m so glad the ‘simple’ horse won,” you said, your voice dripping with satisfaction. “It seems I’ve finally bested a duke.”

Gojo’s blue eyes bore into you, their intensity searing, but you met his glare with a boisterous laugh, savoring the victory as the crowd’s cheers and claps echoed around you. Until it was only the two of you, staring each other down.

Gojo ⸺ 0, you ⸺ 1.

Now, Duchess Gojo had always had a penchant for gossip, no one escaping her eye and observation. Of course, it was now the Whistledown era, for the unknown author could observe far more than the high-profile duchess, who was the receiver of much praise and attention due to her son’s eligibility. But this eligibility had only been achieved because of her ability to direct the tide based on her reconnaissance, and in all her years, no could match her sass and direction. Except one. 

"You know, Lady Itadori," the Duchess remarked, her tone laced with feigned pensiveness, "the Gojo manor in the countryside has been dreadfully quiet, and, if I may say, it has been quite some time since we last enjoyed a proper tête-à-tête.”

The two ladies stood together near the stands, choosing a more secluded spot from which to observe the horse race. Lady Itadori, her closest confidante, met the Duchess’s gaze with a gleam in her eye. "Indeed, I must agree."

For a moment, the two women stood in silence, their eyes surveying the scene before them. From the ladies flirting shamelessly to the gentlemen scrambling for the favor of the season’s debutantes, they were like spectators at a grand circus. Yet, their attention was drawn to a particular act.

Raising her fan to her lips, Lady Itadori whispered conspiratorially to the Duchess, "I might add, my diamond has been spending a considerable amount of time in your son’s company."

The Duchess met her friend’s eyes and laughed lightly. "How many days do you wager it will take in the manor?"

Lady Itadori, now fully smirking, gave a delicate shrug. "It took you and the Duke but four days."

prev. the debutante | next. the manor

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a/n: reader is hearing boss music rn

forced proximity whatttt

gojo when kuna ripped one in his face

comment, reblog, and send in an ask to let me know ur thots :3 memes are also appreciated <3

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[vivwritesfics]

PLEASE can we get more HOAF ?? Maybe their wedding with absolutely adorable Milo and Olivia OR their wedding night 👀👀👀 ~nurse-sainz

as two of you know, I've been seriously thinking about the hoaf second series. It has a title, but, because I don't want to start ANOTHER series until I finish a current one, it's something I'm going to be working on behind the scenes

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Warnings: Pregnancy, pregnancy hormones

Series Masterlist

Feel free to buy me a coffee ☕☕

She'd never expected to be pregnant on her wedding day. It was nobody's dream, to be round and swollen while stuffed into a pretty white dress that you just know would look so much better if you weren't pregnant, on your feet all day, unable to partake in any of the drinking.

Her bachelorette party wasn't all that. But she didn't want it to be. The only people she would have invited were the other wags, girls she didn't know all that well. No, her bachelorette party was her and Olivia getting their hair and nails done.

They ended the day getting dinner, just the two of them. They sat there, sharing a too big pizza while Olivia went over her details plans of the wedding.

It was the best bachelorette party ever.

Daniel had two bachelor parties. One that was organised by Max and Lando to be the wildest night of his life, with almost all of the grid accompanying them. And one where he could invite Milo.

The party with Milo was mini golf. Carlos was happy to carry Milo around on his shoulders, teach him all that he knew. The boys had all agreed to let Milo win, but he didn't have to know that. After the golf they had dinner and drinks.

One thing about Milo was he couldn't keep his mouth shut about the baby. Maybe Daniel should have reminded him that Baby Ricciardo was a secret, but he didn't expect Milo to just blurt it out, either.

But none of the drivers were surprised. They couldn't be surprised about baby Ricciardo, not when the couple hadn't exactly been good at hiding it. Daniel's hand on her stomach, the little list of baby names they'd all seen on his phone.

The party without Milo, when Milo was at home with Olivia and his momma, it really was a party. Loud music, drinks, dancing, it had everything. But, the moment Daniel got more than three drinks in his system, he was talking about her.

Arm over Max's shoulder as he slurred out his name and how much he loved her. "I want to have another girl," he said to Max, but it was barely audible. "A little girl that looks just like her."

When she had her first dress fitting, there wasn't a bump. Or, at least, the bump did little to change her frame. Her dream dress fit like a glove and Daniel's mother was crying.

It was naïve to think that the dress would still fit by the time the wedding rolled around. Her bump had gotten exponentially bigger, to the point where she couldn't hit it anymore. Now that the drivers knew, it was only time that the rest of the world knew.

They didn't announce it in any way. No, Daniel's Instagram usually had a picture of her in his photo dumps and this was no exception. Just, this time, her bump was visible in the picture.

If the world of F1 was losing its collective shit, neither of them noticed. The Ricciardo family was wrapped up in their own little bubble, just the way they liked it.

A week before the wedding, her dream dress wasn't fitting. Why the fuck wasn't it fitting? Well, she knew why. It was stupid to think anything would fit over her bump.

"I hate this baby," she said through tears as she rubbed her bump. No, she didn't hate baby Ricciardo, not in the slightest. Actually, she loved baby Ricciardo more than anything. But still, she couldn't help but wish she wasn't pregnant.

The dress she wore on her wedding day wasn't her dream dress. She couldn't wear those cute white heels she wanted to wear, couldn't even see her feet.

As she stared at herself in the mirror, just an hour away from being walked down the aisle, an hour away from marrying the love of her life, she was ready to cry. She held it back, though, couldn't afford to ruin her makeup. "What're we gonna do with you?" She whispered as she cradled her bump.

"Momma?"

She looked at Milo in the mirror before she turned towards him. "C'mere, baby," she said and held her hands out towards him. Fuck, how was he almost seven?

As her son wrapped his arms around her, she wanted time to stop. Just stop, let her live in this moment forever. He was growing up so damn fast, he was going to be a big brother soon. "You look beautiful, momma," he said.

This time, she couldn't help the tears. Stupid pregnancy hormones. "Thank you, Miley," she said through a shaky breath as she stood up and grabbed a tissue. Gently she dabbed at her eyes, trying to save her makeup.

She smoothed her dress over her bump and took Milo's hand. "Let's go become Ricciardos."

Daniel had never been this nervous before. Not in his first race back after McLaren had let him go. He was sweating in his suit as Max stood with him. All of their guests were seated, but the most important people were missing.

The door opened and Olivia and one of her friends, one that had been over a few times, walked in. They tossed the petals out of the little white basket as she walked in behind her.

Daniel knew her relationship with her family was... strenuous, at best. That was why they weren't at the wedding. With her father not there to walk her down the aisle, Milo held her hand.

Daniel's breath caught in his throat. He knew she wasn't in her dream dress, not the dress that matched Olivia's, but she still looked amazing. Holy fuck, it was enough to bring tears to her eyes. But that wasn't what actually did it.

Milo was the one walking her down the aisle. Milo in his little suit that near matched Daniels. He stood tall and proud, head held high as he walked his mother towards his step father. 

The kids sat together through the ceremony. Milo couldn’t stop himself from fiddling with the little pieces of petals as his mother got married. They were incredibly well behaved throughout, with Olivia’s grandparents, and Milo’s grandparents now, too, keeping them company. 

This close, Daniel could see the faults in her makeup. He didn’t care about the faults, she looked gorgeous with or without it. But still, Daniel could see the smudges under her eyes as he slipped the ring onto her finger. 

Mrs Ricciardo. She was Mrs Ricciardo now. 

Daniel didn’t say anything about the evidence of her tears as he kissed her. And, once he had his mouth on her, he never wanted to stop kissing her. He couldn’t dip her, like he wanted to, but his hand cradled her bump, cradled baby Ricciardo. His baby. She was his wife and she was carrying his baby. 

This was the best day of his life. 

Their family and friends were cheering as he walked her out of the church and into the car. Even then, even in the car, he couldn’t keep his lips on her. But he had to make sure she was okay, that took precedent. Even knowing that, Daniel couldn’t pull his lips away from her own. So the words were mumbled against her lips. “Were you crying?”

He tried to sound concerned, by her lips against his had his voice coming out as more of a desperate whine. 

But, as soon as he said it, she pulled away. “I’m fine, Danny,” she said and went to rub at her eyes, rub away the evidence of her tears.

Daniel caught her wrists. “You look beautiful,” he whispered and kissed her again. “My wife looks beautiful.”

The way she looked up at him, fuck, he could have kept her in that car forever. “Say it again.”

“My wife.”

When they arrived at the reception venue, their friends and family were there, waiting. As soon as they climbed out of the car, Milo and Olivia were pulling away from their grandparents, racing towards them. Daniel couldn’t help but pick Olivia up and place her on his hip as Milo held his mothers leg.

“Are we a family now?” Olivia asked, her voice coming out almost like a demand. 

But nobody could blame her. She’d been waiting for this moment for a year and a half. 

Daniel rolled his eyes, but he was grinning. “We always were a family, Badger.”

There was no part of her wedding that the new Mrs Ricciardo didn’t enjoy. She wasn’t in her dream dress, but, now she had that ring on her finger, now she was married to the love of her life, she didn’t much care. 

She danced, but she didn’t dance the night away, like she had dreamed. She couldn’t help but be emotional as she sat with Daniel’s parents, her mother and father in law, watching the guests at her wedding. They were dancing more than she was, at her own wedding. 

Holding her bump, speaking softly to baby Ricciardo, she watched as her husband and her children danced. Daniel’s grin was so wide as the three of them were the centre of attention on the dance floor. That was the man she loved. That was the man she married. 

“Your daddy, your siblings and I can’t wait to meet you,” she whispered to baby Ricciardo as her mother and father in law watched on, hearts melting. “You’ve got the best daddy going.”

And, as Daniel put Olivia down after spinning her around, he looked over to his wife. She smiled at him, a smile he’d never forget. As Olivia went to dance with Lando and Max took Milo to get something to drink, Daniel walked over to her. 

“Hi, baby,” he said as his hand met her bump. And then he looked up at his wife, meeting her eyes. “Hi, Mrs Ricciardo.”

“Hi, Mr Ricciardo.”

He kissed her, and she never wanted to let him go.

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[liveontelevision]

Hi! I wasnt exactly sure if you’re taking request but i was hoping for something with Lucifer and a babysitter reader. Maybe they baby sat Charlie, and they just have a lot of tension. And then maybe them reuniting after him and lilith have split and it all goes down 👀

Love your slowburny Lucifer fics 🙏🙏

!!!

First off, thank you! I'm really glad you enjoy my stuff! I've been struggling with writing recently, so your request was perfectly timed lol

Also Yes! I'm always taking requests!

Plus, it's such a good request.. so good, I had way too many ideas for how it could go. So - this is a 2 parter >:) Suffer

CW: No smut yet, just suggestive fluff for now

(Edit- This series is complete! All parts are on my master list and I'll tag them here aa well!)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6

Suffer | Lucifer x Reader

It really was a happy day in Hell when the royals introduced an heir to the throne. A darling daughter, who was the first of her kind; A hellborn baby, birthed by a sinner and an archangel. No one really knew what to expect or what kind of powers she held. But they had to be immense. She had to be some kind of beast, based on her genes alone. In theory. 

One look at her, all swaddled up in her mother's arms, Lucifer fell in love all over again. Sure, he was ecstatic to hear that he was having a child, but he didn't realize how much of an effect she’d have on him. She was an absolute angel. Mostly. Great powers must be controlled, and that isn't exactly something an infant can comprehend. It was innocent at first, with little fireworks coming from fingertips, toys being lost in portals, and horns and tails emerging during temper tantrums. Nothing a good nanny couldn't fix. 

That’s what Lillith’s mindset was, at least. It was a heated debate between the married couple, with Lucifer arguing a child needs to be loved and adored by their parents. He was willing to put in the time, why wasn't she? Of course, Lilith was a busy demon, with the whole empowering demonkind with her voice and songs thing, but too busy to handle her own baby?

“She’s gonna be an adult before we know it. Can’t you spend a few decades seeing her grow up..?” Lillith delicately takes her cutlery to her mouth, picking at the dinner she shared with her husband, who was seated on the other end of their lengthy table.

“Unlike you, my love, I have duties to attend to. Someone has to keep things running smoothly, to keep every demon’s hopes as high as they can be. You remember what it was like falling, being all alone and left in an unfamiliar world? I wouldn't want anyone else to feel that way. Would you?” He hated to agree, but did so anyway. She always knew what to say to make him feel guilty. Either way, she was right. He really didn't do much nowadays. He worked in his shop more, his newborn daughter becoming a great source of inspiration, but Lillith handled most of the publicity. Which, in Hell, is one of the only purposes for royalty. Lucifer didn't need to create life anymore, Hellborn creations were multiplying just fine. Probably a little too much, actually. He had all the free time in the world to shower his daughter with affection. 

“ I mean..! I guess not, but they're filthy little demons, and this is your daughter! You want to leave her in the hands of some stranger? It’s just.. not right..! She needs a mother, Lily!” He was clearly passionate about this. Slamming his fists on the table, he sent ripples through the poured wine in front of Lillith’s plate.

“Lucifer. You’re causing a scene.” He hated when she said that, too. And again, he shrunk back in his seat, keeping his mouth shut. They had been drifting apart for a while, the distance not doing them any favors. He had no interest in interacting with demonkind and was fully comfortable with letting Lillith take that on, so they became more distant as she tended to Hell’s growing population.

When she rose from her seat, he finally perked up, hoping to meet her eyes. She was already halfway out of the room. “I’ll do all the work, darling, not to worry. I’ll make sure any candidate is thoroughly interviewed and trained, I promise.” Her voice was reassuring, even with the heartless subject matter. Leaving Lucifer alone in the room with some imps that usually stand along the walls, he spotted her almost untouched plate. pushing away from the table, he nearly knocked his heavy, ornamented chair onto the ground and left through another exit.

—

“Oh, Charlie.. Your mother loves you very much.” He swung the bundled-up baby in his arms, reveling in the sound of her giggles. Pressing a quick kiss to her forehead, he placed her carefully in her golden crib. Standing over her, he leaned onto the railing, watching her large red eyes flutter shut. “And.. I will shelter and adore you, sweetheart. I love you, more than anything.” He wiped a little tear that began to well up in his eye when he spoke and struggled to finally pull himself away. Protecting himself from his intrusive thoughts, he held his arms across his chest and turned to leave her nursery.

“Aww, that was so sweet..” The figure leaning in the doorframe caused him to let out a startled yelp. “Who the Hell.. You have to leave, whoever you are.” He became immediately defensive, holding his hand away from the crib in some form of protection, but he still spoke in a hushed voice. If you were just an imp he wouldn't be as worked up, but you were a sinner. A sinner who suddenly appeared in his daughter’s room. “O-oh! Um, sorry, I thought the queen would’ve.. I’m your new nanny..?” You let out a nervous chuckle, shrugging your tensed shoulders. And now? You’re admitting you're the very demon who’ll be raising his daughter alongside him. He dropped his arms, letting out a scoff, clearly unenthused. Looking you up and down, he stood there staring daggers. After a moment of awkward silence, you held out your hand to shake his, but he didn’t respond to it.

“What are your qualifications? Where did you come from? What makes you think you’re worthy of laying hands on my daughter? The princess of Hell?” He circled you, in an attempt to intimidate you, despite his small stature. “Well, um... When I was alive, I was the oldest kid at the foster house I grew up in. It wasn’t the best facility, so I basically raised most of the girls there.. I’ve seen it all, I guarantee.” You tried to lighten the mood with a quick smile, but it didint do much. “And Lillith approves of you?” You nodded, gripping the hem of your skirt nervously. “Hm. I am not as easily swayed as my wife. She’s my daughter, too. You’ll have to do better than - “ An ear-piercing wale comes from behind him. The commotion must've woken Charlie up. “Oh! No no nono..” His demonic presence faded to reveal what he really was. A father. He scooped her up and cooed, hushing her and swaying her slowly. It did nothing to help. That’s when another fact clicked in your mind; he wasn’t just a father, he was a new father. He lets out a nervous groan, wiping tears away from her heated cheeks.

“Your majesty..?” You slowly approached him, both of you still on edge. “May I?” He was clearly still debating the idea, but another loud wail had him hesitantly passing the swaddled child to your arms. He had such a light hold on her, you noticed his hands trembling when he finally released her into your grasp. You held her close, her front against your chest as you hummed in a low tone a little tune. You picked up a little trick, the vibrations from your chest helped calm her down. The action of swaying the baby and engrossing yourself in the little song running through your head actually calmed the both of you. You still spoke softly, in a low tone, “Thank you, sir. For trusting me with her, i mean. I’ll be here for anything you need. Anything she needs.” You sent him a warm smile. He simply nodded his head slowly, still witnessing the miracle that is someone with experience caring for a child. Maybe this could work out.. What could go wrong?

—

“I’m gonna getcha!” A high-pitched giggle filled the corridors of the manor, Lucifer rounds the corner to follow after his surprisingly speedy toddler. He was mostly having fun with this little game of tag but was also mildly concerned by her growing distance. “Gotcha!” A pair of arms swooped down from around another corner, scooping Charlie up as she let out a playful yelp. You held her in a tight hug, before adjusting your position to hold her up comfortably. Lucifer panted, smiling at the sight of you and his daughter, despite him being out of breath. “G-good catch.. Hoof..!” He stretches his arms upwards, then places them on the small of his back. “Aren’t you the most powerful being in Hell? Why are you acting like a middle-aged dad with a broken back?” you laughed through your words, the sound making Charlie laugh along. He stood up straight and crossed his arms over his chest, a pout on his face. “Uh, It’s for fun? Ever heard of playing pretend?” You bit your lip to prevent yourself from mocking him anymore. “Don’t laugh!” You shook your head, then watched him open his arms out to you. Or, to Charlie, actually, but you stepped back instead of handing her over. “Oh, I forgot to remind you, you actually have to head to the Heaven Embassy in a bit, so I’m gonna put Charlie down for her nap instead.” He dropped his arms and grimaced. “Right..”

This mid-day nap was a sort of tradition for Lucifer and his daughter. It was one of the few moments that Lucifer looked forward to these days. You knew that. As much as you enjoyed your job, it came with the unfortunate privilege of seeing Lucifer in his slumps. You rarely saw Lillith, actually, but that made sense. You were only here for Charlie while Lillith couldnt be. When you did spot her iin passing, you’d hand Charlie over and let the two of them have a sweet interaction, usually a quick hug and peck on the forehead, but that was usually it. You’d always notice Charlie clinging onto your shoulder and looking back in her mother’s direction whenever she handed her daughter back to you. It always crushed your heart to hear her go silent after those moments.

“Actually, I was wondering if you’d want to help get her ready for the gala tonight? You should be back in time and it won't take long. Lilith only wants her to make a quick appearance, so it shouldn't be too much work.. Good bonding moment, too!” His eyes sparkled at your invitation and he was quick to accept it. “Thank you, dear. I’ll find you after that meeting.” As he goes to walk past you, he places a hand on your back. He does this often, but as the years went on, it shifted from your shoulder to your shoulderblade, and now he delicately places his hand on your lower back whenever he can. It made you anxious at first.. Was anxious the right word? Either way, you didn't stop him.

He leaned in to place a kiss on Charlie’s forehead, becoming increasingly close to your own face. It wasn't a quick motion. He pressed a dramatic kiss onto her head, letting out a mwah! sound as he pulled back. But before he did, he looked up to you with half-lidded eyes. The eye contact seemed to last forever. And you ever wanted it to stop. A small hand came up and patted Lucifer’s cheek, a childish giggle breaking the moment between you two. What were you thinking? He’s your employer, he’s a king. He’s kind, and sweet, and tries really hard to be a good dad. Nope! Stop it.

“Right! Meeting! Heaven! Gonna.. Yup, I’ll see you.. Uh..” You finished off his words, “ - tonight?”

“Exactly! You got it! Bye, Darling!” He waved his hand off and walked off in a random direction that you were pretty sure didn't lead to where he was supposed to go. “I-I was talking to Charlie, by the way!” You heard from around the corner. You couldn’t stop your laughter with that one. “I know.” You said it softly, not letting him hear the slight disappointment in your voice.

The Gala wasn't a new event, Lillith held them often. Lucifer made his appearance with Charlie, then usually would make up some excuse to get out of the room. Gathering the leaders of each ring of Hell and some of the more powerful overlords, and demons, it was still a big deal. You dressed up Charlie often, since she would throw a temper tantrum when any of the stylists would try to get her ready. You didn't mind, you actually enjoyed prettying her up. You stalled for as long as you could, before beginning to dress her. You wanted to wait for Lucifer, but you assumed he got caught up in some kingly duties. It wasn’t that big of a deal. Don’t be upset. Stop missing him.

“Sorry - Sorry! I'm here!” The blonde demon rounds the corner, hopping on his one foot to balance himself before stopping firmly in Charlie's room. He was wearing an incredibly elegant suit. A dark purple sash cinches His waist, which was only visible because his jacket was hung over his shoulder. His shirt was speckled in gold, matching his hair when under certain light. “Had to convince them I could finish getting ready on my own! Damn stylists, can't catch a break with them.” He let out an awkward laugh, followed by a hoot. He sees Charlie, in her dark purple dress, with small poofed out sleeves, made of a transparent tool. “Charchar! Look at you, kiddo!” He scooped her up and held her close while he swung around. “You're beautiful, sweetheart.” He knew she wouldn't understand that until she was older, but never stopped him from praising her.

He pressed his forehead against hers, laughing along with her. You hated to break the tender moment, but you cleared your throat, bringing the attention back to you. “She's just about ready, just got her hair left.” He placed her back in the chair as you went for a brush. Working through her hair piece by piece, Lucifer suddenly stopped you. “Um.. can I try?” You nodded eagerly, handing the brush over. He swiped slowly, ebing startled by the crunch of a knot, he froze and pulled it away. “It’s okay, you won't hurt her - “ You didn't need to help him this way. Honestly, if anyone were to come in and witness this you could be fired. Still keeping that in mind, you place your hand over his, and guide the brush indirectly, to carefully work through her hair.

After far too long, you pulled your hand away and went to grab some other accessories. His brain was completely fried by the interaction, if this were some looney cartoon, smoke would be puffing out his ears. You weren't as calm as you were coming off as either. Why did you do that? You’d face a fate worse than a second death if anyone saw that. After letting your face cool down, you turned back and bumped Lucifer over with your hip, to take his spot directly behind Charlie. Placing your hands on her shoulders and kneeling down a bit you smile at her reflection. “What do we think, hun? Ponytail? Pigtails? Buns?”

“Braids!” You look at her with a questioning hum. “Pleease!” Braids it is. You start to section off her hair and quickly wrap one clean braid down her back. It only took you a few minutes to do it, leaving bystander Lucifer to sit in awe. He did that a lot. Whenever you’d do something with Charlie that came as second nature to you, he would watch intently. After you noticed his gaze, you began showing him how to do whatever task you had on hand. He needed those moments with her, you knew that. “Wanna give it a shot?” He jumps, as if you had just caught him doing something he shouldn't be doing. “A-Are you sure? It looks kind of complicated, I don't want to ruin her hair if - “ You interrupted his nervous rambling by calling out his title. “I’ll show you, just come watch.” He nodded, almost too quickly, and rushed to stand near you. Very near you. He stood close enough to let your shoulders touch whenever you would lift your arm a certain way. You unfurled the braid you had already done, making Lucifer let out a little sound of disappointment, that you’d ruined your hard work just for him. After attempting to explain it, he manages to struggle his way through a messy braid. He saw you holding in some kind of laugh and sent you daggers.  “No - no! It’s good! Especially for your first time, it’s holding up pretty well! Here - “ You pulled the braid back out, then restarted it, letting him pick it up at an easier place. You took his wrists every so often, to turn his hand in the proper direction before letting him go on.

The focus between the two of you suddenly became intense. He stuck out his tongue a bit, too engrossed in his styling to notice. You stood behind him, your hands pressed on his back, while you stood on your tip toes to observe what he was doing from over his shoulder. Pointing out little pieces of hair that were falling out, you would reach out your pointer finger to gesture towards it, only bringing you a bit closer together.

“Is.. Is that it?” He stepped back slowly, giving you the chance to back away with him. You swung around and examined the braid that he had probably spent too much time on, with an overly dramatic hum. Tapping your chin and squinting your eyes, you researched the braid as if it were some puzzle to solve. “It looks great, Lucifer.” Looking towards him, you were expecting an overly confident grin at the acknowledged accomplishment but instead, was met with a wide-eyed bundle of nerves.

“Sir! I-It looks good, Sir! Well - I’ll let you finish getting ready and take Charlie to -” Reaching out your hands to pick Charlie up, Lucifer stops you by grabbing your arm. “It’s okay! I mean, that’s.. That’s my name! Makes sense for you to call me that, considering its my name, so - “ He lets you go and starts fiddling with the clasps on his sleeves. “It’s okay.. for you to do that..” You smile to yourself, going back to tidying up Charlie’s get-up, doing little things like putting on her darling little shoes and tying a ribbon at the end of her hair.

Lucifer then stood in front of the mirror, brushing off his shirt and slipping on his jacket. It was a dazzling plum-colored suit coat, with golden clasps across his torso, and a golden shoulder plate, that allowed a sheer cape to drape down his left side. He was absolutely stunning. You did your best to avert your eyes, staring at him felt like staring at the sun. You only turned in his direction when he cleared his throat to get your attention. “Sorry.. dear, but uh… If you’re done with Charlie, I just - I’m struggling a little bit here..” You watched him attempt to adjust his lopsided tie, finally drooping his head with a sigh of defeat. “Wow, I thought you wore one of those every day, what’s the problem?” The teasing always helped lighten the mood, you placed your hand on your hip as you leaned your weight onto the vanity.  He glared at you again, letting out a huff before mumbling under his breath. “It’s a clip on..”

You let out a breath you had been holding in, partially from keeping in your laughter, but mostly from the nerves. With the combination of you wearing house slippers, and him wearing his particularly taller pair of boots, he managed to look down at you when you approached him. You should've made it a quick motion, you’ve tied bowties dozens of times, so it definitely wasn't a new task for you. But instead, you took your time. You carefully traced your hands up to his neck, tugging on both ends to pull it as far forward as it could go. You stopped to straighten the collar of his shirt, then delicately knotted the tie with ease. Your breath became heavier when you rested your hands on the finally tied bow, feeling his heart pounding against the side of your palm. After he caught you in your act, he stepped back, the image of his wife suddenly popping into his head. “Ahha.. Well, um - Thank you. I’ll take Charlie, it’s about that time anyway!”

"R-Right.." you suddenly felt guilty for your actions, worrying that you overstepped some lines. He didn't seem upset or uncomfortable, he was just silent. As he lifted Charlie from her chair, the vision of the two of them left you breathless. A beautiful pair, with porcelain skin contrasting against a palette of muted purples, and the biggest, brightest eyes. Charlie's braid hung loosely down her back, same golden strands accented in the light off the room. You almost wanted to be in the moment with them.

"Hey, so.. if you think you have time, you're welcome to go down to the ballroom for a drink or.. something... if you want." He really had to consider if that was a good idea. The thought was sitting on his mind while he enjoyed the view of your focused expression on his tie. He watched your eyes light up at the notion, his heart swelling with.. with something.  "Oh! I mean - The queen talks about it like it's this big important fancy thing, but.. if you think it'll be okay.. I'll - um - " She thought for a moment, looking around the room. "I don't exactly have anything to wear.. I'll join next time, if the invites still open?" You smiled, but it was strained. And he could tell. "No problem! I'll have her find something for you, then you can slip in whenever you want. No pressure!"

With a wave of his hand, a little imp girl came from a portal he had conjured up. Peeking inside, you saw a vast collection of gowns. The imp took your hand and dragged you in silently. You stumbled, then stammered something out, something that should've been a thank you, or a show of appreciation, but you were too stunned by the situation. He waved, then Charlie waved, then the two were out of the room.

The picture of them together ran through your mind. Not just them in matching outfits, but whenever he would press his forehead against hers, or he would show off his horns when Charlie was prodding at her own. Or when they really seemed like a family. Lillith was never in those pictures. Fuck, don't be jealous. You're getting paid far too much money to feel anything like that. Plus, you're being treated to an elegant evening gown without even asking. You don't get to be jealous.

Luckily, the imp rolled out a rack of dresses, it was stuffed to the brim, but was still a more manageable collection compared to the entire room. You sifted through them, and each one that twisted your face, she took off the hanger and set aside. After narrowing it down, you were stuck on two dresses; a sultry red dress, with an incredibly high slit and a stretched velvet material that hugged you in all the right places. Definitely a head turner. Even if this gala had a V.I.P list, maybe some handsome individual could help you distract yourself.

But the other option was a glistening lavender color, the neckline went across your shoulders, turning to gloves that tapered at your knuckles. A sheer corset held your curves in place, and it was paired with pearl accessories, to go with your sleek white heels. Both were gorgeous of course, but turning your hips and taking in how you looked in that lavender gown.. you could see yourself fitting quite nicely into your mental picture of Lucifer and Charlie. You would never admit that's why you picked it. You were prettied up, your hair pulled to one side with pearl clips scattered within the strands, and a little touch of makeup that you really didnt want, but was convinced without a word by the stylist. You looked like royalty. And that made you feel good in so many ways.

—

Lucifer said you could "sneak in", and you thought it best to take that literally. Waving and greeting all the workers in the kitchen that you knew, you finally slipped through the door where the caterers traveled from. You went straight for the bar, not because you needed a drink - well, I'm sure that's part of it - but because you had no idea what to do. What, were you supposed to walk straight up to Lucifer? Or Lillith? The idea of seeing Lillith suddenly made your stomach churn. You realized that you actually got there in time to see the introductions for most of the more esteemed guests. They went through the sins, who were larger than life, then a flared announcement for the Morningstar family was belted out.

Lucifer stood with a devilish grin, looking handsome as always. Lillith was still stunning, her gown trailing behind her.. but it was black. It wasn’t purple, or plum, or lilac, it was just black. It may not have looked like a contrast to everyone, but it upset you for some reason. Charlie stood between them, looking incredibly calmed considering the intensity of the moment. Lillith was holding her small hand, but the difference in height made her strain to keep their fingers intertwined. You cringed watching her stand on the tip of her toes to keep contact with her own mother.

Quietly, as to not interupt the announcements, you beckoned the bartender to bring you a drink. You sat and sipped, your back arched as you leaned your weight onto your elbows. What were you doing here? Was this all worth it? To have your little Cinderella transformation? 

"Hello, darling.. and who might you be?" A sultry voice came from behind, causing you to swivle in the chair to face where it came from. It wasn't Lucifer, which left you mildly disapointed, but you definitely weren't upset at the curvy woman standing in front of you, wearing a dress that left nothing to the imagination. The swishing demonic tail wasn't something you hated either. A real fox.

"Oh, a friend invited me, I didnt want to cramp his style, so here I am." As you spoke, the bartender brings a tall flute of champagne over to the gorgeous demon in front of you. She glides to sit in the seat next to you. "Hm - well, I'd hate to see you all alone tonight, mind if I keep you company, love?" She slid her fingers up your arm and you have no idea how you managed to keep your cool. "Not at all~" maybe it was the confidence of your new appearance, but you had no issue with spending the night with this stranger.

All of a sudden, Charlie was plopped into your seated lap, causing you to look up towards an intimidating Lucifer. Examining the sudden shift in mood, you were relieved to see Lillith talking to some demons on the other side of the room. "Glad you could make it! Charlie here - reeaally missed you, thought I should say hi." He smile was forced, you noticed a slight twitch in his eye. "Ah, I see you've met my nanny! Quite a beauty, wouldn't you agree?" Lucifer came incredibly close to you, leaning in and placing his hand on your back. The only issue was the low cut of the dress, allowing you to feel his warm hands on your skin. You hoped he didn't feel the shiver run up your spine.

Taking a hold of Charlie as she climbed up your lap to hug your neck, you let out a natural laugh, feeling like yourself for the first time tonight. Looking back to your conquest, who was definitely about to ask you to "get out of here", you see a face of absolute disgust. Oh, right. You're just a sinner to these higher ups. And a working class one at that. Nanny wasn't the most flattering occupation apparently. She made a terrible excuse to get out of the conversation and walked away a little faster than she should've.

"Sir! I have no problem watching Charlie tonight, but - I was about to -" your face flushed as you tried to explain how you were just trying to get laid tonight. “Get a drink, right? Make sure you stick to the non-alchoomic stuff, hun, sounds like Charlie gets to stay up late tonight!" With a hefty pat on your back, Lucifer stepped away to talk to another random demon. What the fuck? Lucifer had beckoned the bartender over again, and when you looked back to the counter, you see a sad looking soda water. With a sigh, you guzzle the drink just to wet your dried throat.

As much a you loved Charlie, there was no better chick repellant. And even for the brave souls who decided to approach you and still show interest, Lucifer would suddenly appear, keeping his hand just above your tailbone as he mentioned your hard work as his employee. Maybe it was the word nanny, or the intimidating presence of the king of Hell, but he had to be doing this on purpose. You kind of hoped he was doing this on purpose.. After one too many fleeting suitors, you worked your magic and calmed Charlie until she fell asleep in your arms. You hummed a little tune again, the method was something she became accustomed to after you started taking care of her.

"My my~ what a sweetheart." A broad shouldered demon approached you, his lower voice ringing throughout your chest. "Isn't she? She's exhuasted, I should really get her to bed." You never took your eyes off of Charlie, making it easy for him to slip a hand around your waist." Ah, you’re her caretaker, hm? Well.. what do you have going on after you get her to bed?" His hand trails down to your hips, starting to trace a circle with his thumb. You swung away, a look of disgust on your face." Probably going to bed. By myself." You hissed. You never had a problem handling those kind of advances, and you'd do anything to keep Charlie safe, so you kept your distance. "You don't have to do that, baby~ why don't you show me around the Morningstar manor?" He closed the distance, and as you go to step back, your back hits the bar. "N-No thanks, I'm.. not..." You would have gotten nervous in the moment, if you didnt see a blonde headed angel approaching with horns threatening to burst out.

"Stay away from her." A small puff of flames came from Lucifer's snarl as he reprimanded the thug. He scoffed and stepped away as if nothing had happened. Probably the smartest thing for him to do at this point. Lucifer's suddenly glowing red eyes returned to their normal hue once he turned his attention to you. You froze in place. It felt like you were in trouble too. "You're okay?" He spoke blankly, you couldn't tell what emotion he was trying to convey, let alone how he actually feels. You nodded, keeping a hand on the back of Charlie's head." Get her to bed." With a dramatic turn, his transparent cape flew behind him and he returned to Lillith's side. He placed his hand on the small of her back.

You wanted to cry. To scream and drink until you can't think of anything. Charlie was your main priority, though. You took her to her nursery as soon as you could. Carefully changing her into her pajamas, a cute little onesie with ducks printed all over, then placed the drowsy toddler into her bed. "Oh Charlie.. You are so lucky to be so loved." You spoke geniunely, no matter your feelings, the amount of love Charlie is given and how much she gives in return was always so unbelievable to you. She was made of pure joy. Brushing some hair away from her face, you stepped back, taking your time on returning to your room.

"That is so sweet." You shot your head up, unpleasantly surprised by Lucifer's sorry face. "She's in bed, what do you need from me?" You spoke softly, as to not wake her. "You look beautiful. I just.. didn't get a chance to say that earlier, is all." Your face twisted in digust. "You know, you weren't the only one who thought that tonight. That was the first time I've been hit on in months. Couldn't you let me just enjoy the night..?" You were becoming increasingly frustrated, and it was translating clearly through your words. He flinched at your aggression, suddenly becoming defensive.

"That filfthy demon was feeling you up..! What else did you want me to do?" He started to match your energy, quietly responding in an aggitated state." Not him, the rest! I was about to leave with that lady at the bar, and I'm sure others would've enjoyed my company if I wasn't getting handed a toddler every second." You'd regret that one later, referring to Charlie as just a toddler. "That's your job, dear. Remember why you're here." He puffed out his chest, becoming increasingly close to your figure. You shrunk away, your eyes widened at his words.

"Oh- Oh, no, I didn't mean to - wait, I wasn't - " He stammered, his intimidating stature immediatly dropping as he say your eyes start to glaze over with tears, which only flowed down your cheeks after batting your made-up lashes. "Nonono! Please don't cry I - um.. " his eyes darted around the room, before reaching his arms out and reeling you in to a tightening embrace. Your chin sat on his shoulder, the shock momentarily keeping the water works at bay.

"I got nervous, okay..? I didn't want anything.. bad... to happen. I didn't want to lose you in there." Those words shouldn't tug at your heart strings at much as they did, but that and the low rumble of his voice just slightly hitting your ear made it impossible.

"I-I can handle myself.." You sniffled, your breath becoming heavier as you felt his hands start to explore your back. He rested one hand on the small of your back, sending a familiar warmth to your chest. But then, his fingers traced upwards, holding onto your shoulders for a moment, before lightly clawing down your bare back. He traced over a certain spot that tickled you the wrong  way, causing you to force out a little yelp. You both stopped for a moment, the only thing you could hear was the uneven pants coming from your mouths. He pulled away for a moment, keeping his hands on your shoulders. Then eyeing you up and down, he ran his grasp across the length of your arms. "I known you can.. you're wonderful." He somehow spoke as if he was completely unaffected by the intimacy he was just showing you. Your breath only picked up more, instantly regretting what you were about to do.

With a small leap, you pulled him in by his collar and messily met his lips. It couldn't be a quick peck, that's too confusing. You wanted this to last forever. He kept his lips sealed shut at first, but that didn't last long. With a shakey breath against your lips, he pulled you in by your waist suddenly, bringing you as close to him as he could. The motion took the air out of your lungs, forcing you release a vocal sigh. He only held you tighter after that. Your arms trailed up and around his shoulders, combing through the hairs at the nape of his neck. He broke for a moment, his kisses traveling down your lips to your jawline, then down to your neck.

Flicking your hair back, he latched an incredibly wet kiss on the softness of your neck. Lucifer took the invitation of your strapless dress to fully cover you in kisses, occasionally running his tongue up the length of your neck. A panting mess, you pulled him back up by his chin, finally getting a good look at his face. He was falling apart at the seems. He looked desperate to get back to working on your neck, like he hadnt been intimate with anyone in years. You needed his lips against yours again. Holding his jaw, you pressed a kiss on his lips, then squeezed your thumb amd index finger to open his lower jaw and push your tongue into his mouth. He let out a nervous moan, before quickly catching up to you.

This wasn’t right. This part wasn't in your mental picture of a perfect family. And you knew why. Your thoughts were silenced, feeling his mouth trail back down to your collarbone. He thumbed at the top of your long glove, beginning to pull it down. God, never let this moment end.

But you forgot. You're in Hell.

With a frantic patting on his shoulder, you quickly attempted to get his attention. When Lucifer met your eyes again, they had gone wide, and he finally noticed you shaking. "Hey, hey! What is it? Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?"

"Yes." He froze. He slowly turned his head to the door. Lillith.

—

"Darling, please, I'm sorry, you know you're the only one for me - it was a long night, mistakes were made, let's just move on, hm..?" He was begging for this moment to be over, as Lillith moved past him and approached you. You had to crane your neck to look at her, your entire body trembling. You had mascara running down your eyes, and your lipstick had smeared in all directions. Lillith lifted your head up even further, wiping some smudged lipstick from the corner of your mouth. "Lily..?" Lucifer let out softly. She let out a soft sigh. She didn't seem to be angry, which seemed to make you more nervous than if she was. "D-Don’t.. don't hurt her..." It's like he was scared to stick up for you. That, and the fact that he just called this past interaction a mistake, weighed heavily on your heart. "You think that little of me, my love? I would never. It was a mistake, after all, just as you said." She spoke so calmly but knew exactly what to say to make you cower in fear. You let out a pathetic whimper, "P-Please... I'm s-sorry, Your Highness..." She smiled and tightened her grip on your jaw for a moment before letting you go. You didn't realize she was actually lifting you up slightly until you were dropped down. “So.. we can talk and figure this out, right? Lily?" She kept her eyes off of the anxious mess that Lucifer was becoming." Of course, love. We'll talk in the morning. Oh, and obviously - " She turned towards you just before leaving the room. 

"You're fired.”

—

HA

Anyway, there is absolutely a part 2 for this don't worry and I'll get to it.. eventually.

!Taglist!

( @vififofum @thornwolfy235 @tinywolfiegirl @chipper-chip @bat-boness @misfitgirlwrites @nayomi247 @lonelynmisunderstood )

[theminecraftbee]

you know it's INTERESTING to look back at the double life soulmate pairs and see how they're doing now, relationship-wise, because that experience shaped every soulmate pair differently, i think:

ren and bigb i'll put first on account of "we have no idea since ren hasn't been in the series since double life". when will our doggy come back from the war.......

grian and scar are... grian and scar, the soulbond alone is only part of everything going on there. i think being FORCED to team shaped them a bit into being a little/lot more stable in their relationship with each other in limited life and secret life, as well as maybe taught them a bit about each other's limits. i am... honestly not a desert duo guy there are people who can do the analysis of the soulmate bond's impact on them WAY better than me but. it's part of their overall arc, you know?

martyn and cleo are fun. they both are still clearly CLOSE but they are also both still clearly mistrustful and angry at each other! they have this whole "the only one who can kill you is me" dynamic going on between each other that's very fun. i think being soulmates... obviously they were one half of divorce quartet and the resentment of being forced together did some stuff to that relationship. but i think maybe it also sort of gave them something that they appreciate about each other as well? and they DO care, despite everything. (i could GO INTO THIS LET ME TELL YOU.) so like, they aren't close friends or anything, but they Know Each Other now. and that's a fun dynamic.

impulse and bdubs are funny because i think their bond both did and didn't shape them. the thing is, like desert duo, their soulbond is only one step in their journey, the one that ARGUABLY only settled out in limlife after impulse permakilled bdubs. (note that this is the first series where bdubs hasn't gotten a clock! he is FINALLY PAST that one relationship!) that said i think being each other's ridiculously happy married couple did something to impulse specifically, actually. i think it sort of confused and solidified the grudge and it also like, showed him the almost-happy-loyalty that he wanted in the world. i think these days impulse, at least, has a different idea of 'loyalty' and 'betrayal' thanks to that. and bdubs... i think it's relevant that despite bdubs intentionally CONSTANTLY THROWING UP BETRAYAL FLAGS, he never actually did it. and i don't think he ever actually would. but in terms of their relationship to EACH OTHER? the soulbond was, yeah, only one step in how that arc went.

scott and pearl are... interesting. it's funny; for one of the single most consequential soulbonds in double life, it like... mostly hasn't come up again in their relationship? part of this i think is that pearl's LONELINESS had more of an impact on her than anything scott specifically did, and scott choosing had more of an impact on him. so to each other they're mostly... normal? both a bit mistrustful but like... normal? it's in the ways they act with other people that this experience shaped them, i think; i could say something about scott's next major relationship being mean gills, and the way pearl is only now learning to be a part of a team that cares again. also, pearl's discovery of her bloodlust. that kind of happened in last life to be fair, but it's relevant,

jimmy and tango are surprisingly simple because they were one of the most stable and normal soulmate pairs, lol. they're each other's ranchers! they're still friendly to each other even when their teams are on opposite sides! i think having one relationship where he was the more self-assured one was nice for jimmy and tango having a guy who, rather like skizz, was never going to point out much when tango screwed up on account of Pot Meet Kettle was nice for him, and they both know it was nice. they both get more into the teasing now that they know each other better--a big part of the early ranchers dynamic is that they Did Not Know Each Other but now that they DO it's starting to settle into something shaped more like the kinds of relationships both tango and jimmy tend to have (and they are BOTH the kinds of people to have a lot of friendly mocking in their relationships i wouldn't be surprised if that gets Even More in the future)--but i think out of everyone they probably remember the soulmates thing the most fondly, given the degree to which they are still Buddies.

etho and joel are... good lord the boat boys. on the one hand: clearly they both still enjoy pointing out that the boat boys happened. joel gets... weirdly jealous of other people hanging out with etho? on the OTHER hand they seem determined to murder each other so so so bad. i like to think that their soulbond is a thing they look back on fondly from this but ALSO they both have such weird commitment hangups and bloodlust that maybe the fact they want to kill each other SO BADLY was inevitable. also interesting, though, is how much of this bloodlust comes from etho, given that normally you'd expect joel's relationships to go the other way. what i THINK is happening is that joel still feels a lot of loyalty towards the boat boys somewhere in his head (hence the jealousy and not typically being the one to lash out), whereas etho thinks of it as largely Done and Past, but thinks of it fondly--hence bringing it up every time he has to kill joel, and also the weird tendency to gravitate towards joel specifically. I DON'T KNOW MAN I WOULDN'T HAVE PREDICTED BEFORE LIMLIFE THAT BOAT BOYS WOULD BE THE SOULMATE PAIR THAT WERE WEIRDEST ABOUT EACH OTHER BUT HERE WE ARE,

anyway i just think it's funny to look back on the various soulbonds and realize which ones have had a big impact on sticking around and which ones haven't, you know?

[benkyoutobentou]

LGBTQ+ Japanese Media for Pride Month

Happy pride month! There's no better time to read and watch queer media than June. I tend to read and watch mostly queer content, so I thought I'd drop some things that I've enjoyed over the years for those looking for something that they maybe haven't picked up before. Since lots of Japanese media tends to have multiple versions and adaptations, I'll be organizing this by representation rather than type of media. The version(s) that I've personally seen or read will be bolded. This will also be a little bit different from my usual Japanese media recommendation posts, as I will also be including media that I've read in English or watched with English subtitles. This is also an invitation for anyone to recommend things to me, especially ones that have LGBT rep outside of just gay and lesbian characters. I'm always looking for more stuff to enjoy!

MLM

同級生/Classmates (manga/anime movie): Two seemingly opposite boys meet during the choir festival at their all boys' school and develop a relationship. How could this not be the very first thing I recommend? This is one of my all time favorite BL series and one of my favorite movies as well. Seriously, I watch this at least three times per year (once being during June!). Nakamura Asumiko is one of my favorite manga artists, and this won't be the last series of hers on this list.

ひだまりが聴こえる/I Hear the Sunspot (manga/movie): This follows a college student who agrees to become the designated note taker for a deaf classmate. I love this series and one of my favorite things about it is how much the romance takes a backseat to other things happening in the characters lives. It also has a large cast of deaf characters! If you're looking for something with representation outside of only LGBT and doesn't focus too much on romance, this is a really great choice.

30歳まで童貞だと魔法使いになれるらしい/Cherry Magic! 30 Years of Virginity Can Make You a Wizard (manga/drama/anime): After waking up on his thirtieth birthday, a businessman discovers that he has gained the ability to read minds. And with that, he discovers that his male coworker has a crush on him. For such a zany concept, this series is very cute and sweet. It's also always nice to see something that follows older characters (ie. not high school or college).

美しい彼/My Beautiful Man (novel/drama/manga): This follows a social outcast who ends up falling in love with a boy in the friend group of his high school bullies. This isn't a sweet and heartwarming romance at all, but it's also not pure toxicity. The drama is extremely bingeable and the author is a juggernaut in the BL light novel community for a reason.

消えた初恋/My Love Mix Up (manga/drama): Due to an eraser mishap, a boy admits to having feelings for another boy in order to save his actual crush from embarrassment. This series is The Blueprint for me in terms of romcoms. It does everything right for me and the characters especially stand out. It covers topics from discovering your identity and first love to dealing with homophobia and it does it all spectacularly. I also think that the manga does visual humor extremely well.

スリーピングデッド/Sleeping Dead (manga): After being stabbed to death on a routine patrol, a popular high school teacher wakes up on a metal table. I have no words [words]. This is definitely up there in my favorites, I love it so much. If you like queer horror, this is definitely one you need to pick up. I also found it very funny and the characters were extremely charming.

僕らの地球の歩き方/Our Not-So-Lonely Planet Travel Guide (manga): A couple decides to travel the world together, promising that they'll get married upon their return to Japan. Probably my all time favorite manga ever. I love every single thing about this, especially how much this series loves the queer community. This manga is overflowing with love in all ways, and I'm overflowing with love for this manga.

きのう何食べた？/What Did You Eat Yesterday? (manga/drama): This series is basically just snippets of a gay man's daily life. He likes to cook. And you know what? It's all the better for it. This series is award winning and such a great time. The main character is so relatable and it covers some great LGBT+ topics. Honestly, it's a crime that I haven't seen the drama yet.

WLW

独り舞/Solo Dance (novel): After a violent encounter, a Taiwanese woman makes the choice to move to Japan. When reading this, I saw it mention Qiu Miaojin's Notes of a Crocodile, which I had just bought, and now that I've finally read it, I can easily see the influences that Qiu's works had on this one. This is a tough book to get through emotionally, but ultimately a worthwhile read, especially if you're looking for something more on the literary side.

ささやくように恋を唄う/Whisper Me a Love Song (manga/anime): A girl confesses to an upperclassman that she loves her music, but the upperclassman misunderstands it as a true confession of love. I adore this series and the relationships in it. It has a huge cast of female characters and also has a driving plot outside of just the romance. I'm a sucker for series about music and this one is one of my favorites.

あさがおと加瀬さん/Kase San and Morning Glories (manga/anime movie): A shy gardener and a popular track star become friends and begin dating. This series is so cute! It feels like a GL staple to me and is one I've been following for practically as long as I've been reading manga in Japanese. It also has a sequel series called 山田と加瀬さん/Yamada and Kase San which follows the two of them after high school.

メジロバナの咲く/A White Rose in Bloom (manga): After not being able to go home for Christmas, a girl is stuck in her boarding school with one other student, who seems to not like her. This is another one by Nakamura Asumiko and there's something about her writing which always sucks me in. I can't get enough of this series, it has wonderful vibes, impeccable art, and I just want more and more of the characters.

欠けた月とドーナッツ/Donuts Under a Crescent Moon (manga): This series is a slice of life following two coworkers and their growing relationship. It's very slow burn and puts a lot more emphasis on the feelings of coming into and realizing your sexuality as an adult and dealing with compulsory heterosexuality. I really loved this series and how it focused on issues surrounding but not directly related to the central romance.

気になってる人が男じゃなかった/The Guy She Was Interested in Wasn't a Guy At All (manga): A girl develops a crush on a worker at a music store after bonding over their shared love of music. Little does she know, he's actually the girl who sits next to her in class. This manga has taken the world by storm to the point of having a collaboration with Nirvana, and let me tell you it deserves every bit of hype you've heard about it. The art and characters are both stunning and is absolutely worth the read.

ハロー、メランコリック！/Hello, Melancholic! (manga): A talented trombonist enters a high school without a wind band, but is scouted anyway by a drummer looking for a new member to join her combo band. This is another one where the romance takes a backseat to other stuff in the plot, can you tell that I love that sort of thing? I also really loved the ways they talked about music in here, and I could definitely relate to it as a musician myself. Apparently, all the chapter titles are songs as well.

さよならローズガーデン/Goodbye, My Rose Garden (manga): A young woman moves from Japan to England to find her favorite author and is hired on as a maid. Her boss agrees to help her find this author so long as she agrees to help her with a grisly task. This is another really lovely series with gorgeous art. Set in the Victorian era, this does have some time period appropriate homophobia but overall it didn't strike me as a very dark manga.

Transgender

彼らが本気で編むときは、/Close Knit (movie): A young girl goes to live with her uncle and his transgender girlfriend. This movie is so sweet and cute! I watched it a couple years back now, but I feel like a lot of specific scenes have stuck with me. This is definitely a good heartwarming Pride month movie night candidate.

不可解なぼくのすべてを/Love Me For Who I Am (manga): A nonbinary teen is offered a job at a crossdressing cafe run by a classmate's family. Although this series has a cast with multiple LGBT identities, I chose to include it here because the main theme seems to revolve around gender. I do recommend this series if you're looking for a cute and sweet story about gender issues, but I did have some hesitations about the way lesbians are portrayed in this manga.

ボーイミーツマリア/Boy Meets Maria (manga): A boy who dreams of being an actor falls in love at first sight with a girl he sees dancing in his high school entrance ceremony, only to later find that she is actually a boy in his class. I feel like I always need to preface any recommendation for this manga by saying that a lot of people took issue with the way certain things and tropes are handled in this regarding being transgender. I personally didn't find it transphobic but I'm also just one person and can't speak for every nonbinary person out there. Regardless, I really enjoyed this. Be aware of trigger warnings when going into this one, it gets extremely graphic.

ボーイズ・ラン・ザ・ライオット/Boys Run the Riot (manga): Two high school boys bond over their shared love of fashion and start a brand together. I read this one a while back and never ended up finishing it but I do remember enjoying what I read! It's also by a transgender mangaka!

放浪息子/Wandering Son (manga/anime): This is a slice of life coming of age series that follows a middle school friend group revolving around two transgender friends. It's more of a slow paced series and a little bit on the more depressing side. The anime is also award winning and the manga was nominated!

星合の空/Stars Align (anime): This is a sports anime about a middle school boys' soft tennis team. I always hesitate to recommend this one because it was greenlit for a twenty four episode anime then cut down to twelve episodes during production. Rather than condense the story, the creator chose to animate only the first half of the series, so it's perpetually unfinished. Despite that, I still think it was a really wonderful anime and I would really love to see the rest of it one day because so much good stuff was set up!

Other/Multiple

しまなみ誰そ彼/Our Dreams at Dusk (manga): A gay teen is about to commit suicide after being outed to his classmates but sees a mysterious person jump from a balcony, which then leads him to a drop in center for LGBT people. I cannot say enough good things about this manga, it is phenomenal and is always my go-to for anyone looking for queer manga. It's heartfelt and beautiful and written by another one of my favorite mangaka, Kamatani Yuhki, who also happens to be X gender!

ヒラエスは旅路の果て/Hiraeth: The End of the Journey (manga): After the death of her best friend, a young girl decides to join a forgotten god and an immortal man on their journey to find death. Another Kamatani manga! This manga deals more with grief and mortality rather than queer identities, but if you want something with casually queer characters, this one is worth picking up. Also, this is one of only two manga to ever make me cry, and boy did I ugly cry at this one.

恋せぬふたり/Two People Who Can't Fall in Love (drama): Though I haven't watched this one, it's been on my radar for quite a while and I've heard so many good things. It's also harder to find series that have explicit aroace representation. This is about a woman who feels ostracized by her lack of romantic interest in anyone around her until she finds a blog about asexuality.

わたしは壁になりたい/I Want to Be a Wall (manga): This series is a marriage of convenience plot between an asexual BL fangirl and a gay man who never got over his childhood crush. I loved the relationship between the two characters and the depiction of a nontraditional family that still has love within it, even if it's not romantic.

Bonus- Music

I'm not one to look much in to the person behind the music, so I often don't know much about band members or singers of the music I listen to. However, there are two wonderful transgender artists that I listen to regularly in Japanese and couldn't pass up the opportunity to share their works with the world! Nakamura Ataru is a pop singer who also takes inspiration from traditional Japanese music. I love her enka styled songs such as 廃墟の森! The other artist is a bit more popular, and that's the rock band QUEEN BEE, whose lead singer is the incredibly talented Avu Chan. Avu Chan also voiced Inu Oh in one of my favorite movies, Inu Oh, which isn't (explicitly) queer, but is definitely worth watching anyways, even if just to hear Avu Chan's insane vocal abilities.

And so, those are (just a few) of my recommendations for Japanese queer reads to celebrate Pride month! If you have any recommendations for me, regardless of whether it's a movie or novel or manga or other, I would love to hear them!

[sunandsstars]

YAWNETU

CHAPTER 1

Jake x Neytiri x Na’vi!Reader

Summary: One other mate was enough, but two? Unneeded. ___ was the outcast, the unwanted woman. Jake and Neytiri wouldn’t ever see her..right?

Warnings: Talks of war, Briefly mentions death/Bodily harm, Angst, Swearing, Non-con Word count: 2.4k

A/N: Here it is people, the angst series :( Prepare yourselves

Taglist: @itsyoboysparkel @dumb-fawkin-bitch @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @fanboyluvr

Having one mate was enough for a Na’vi, they did not need another to deal with or weigh them down. It was a huge commitment and for most, a waste of time. More than one significant other was a rare case these days anyway, usually only reserved for Na’vi of a higher ranking, like an Olo’eyktan or Tsahìk.

Jake didn’t know that the Na’vi can bond with more than one at a time until Grace brought it to his attention one day, “Na’vi will mate with only one other person for their whole life, unless duty brings them to marry another” she stated, smoking a cigarette haphazardly in the lab room, eyeing the man who sat uninterested in his wheelchair.

Mating. Jake thought it sounded primal, animalistic, something the creatures back on Earth used to do just to get a quick fuck. But when Neytiri brought it up and he finally experienced it himself, it could only be described as sublime. He’s never felt such feelings, emotions. You share them with your partner in such a deep level it left him feeling breathless.

Following their mating the skypeople attacked and cut down the Tree of Voices, severing one of their main connections to their ancestors. That’s when he realised it was time for war. Several clans joined the mighty Toruk Makto to fight for Pandora, when he called they answered. But the battle was bloody, long and gruelling, they all lost brothers and sisters that day. But at least now they will find peace in Eywa’s warm embrace.

The Great Sorrow then became something of the past and the Omaticaya were relocated to an area by Hellsgate, the humans and Na’vi finally living in harmony but not peace, a lot preferring to still shun the aliens away from their home.

But the forest provided tall trees to cover them from predators and plenty of abundance, humans will also be with their technology inside an environment they can thrive in, so each side wins. Jake had finally been anointed as Olo’eyktan with Neytiri being his tsakarem, the couple couldn’t be more happier with the way things have become, fully believing the skypeople will not return.

But happiness must soon come to an end.

“Ma sa’nok! Why?! Why must we be mated to her?! She is useless!” Neytiri yelled angrily at her mother, the Tsahìk, she has just been told her mother has been seeing visions in her sleep and suspected Eywa was trying to tell her something. This ‘something’ was about her child’s third mate, which she did not anticipate.

“All of our roles play an important part here daughter” Mo’at glared, has she taught her child no less? “your new wife will be a good edition to your family and therefore the clan. It must be done, Eywa has spoken”

Neytiri did not understand, her and Jake were happy together. Alone. They did not need another person to ruin the balance of their life. She turned around sharply to her husband who was sat on the ground by the tree of souls, urging him to make an opinion on the matter with a glare. Jake coughed.

“I agree Mo’at. We are fine together just as it is”

“This is not your decision to make Jake Sully. The great mother will not be happy, she has done this for a reason and we must trust her judgement. She has shown me what will happen if this does not happen, you and your family will fall under a great despair, it will disrupt all we have made” Jake’s ears perked up, alarmed, ‘what does she mean a great despair’. As his thoughts started to turmoil Neytiri continued to talk to her mother, coming to an understanding that it was the way of life. She cannot disregard Eywa’s wishes.

With a huff she walked towards Jake and pulled him up by the arm with no effort, eyes a glare and ears pinned to her head. She walked away and towards her new ikran, ready to get back to camp. “So.. do you know who we’re supposed to mate?”

“Srane”

“Are you gonna tell me?” They flew into the air, Bob screeching as they went above the trees, staying low to the forest. Neytiri didn’t answer his question and stayed silent, shit. He was just a man, a man who knows when NOT to anger a woman, especially one like her. He decided to not take it any further.

Arriving back to Hellsgate they dismounted and landed onto the floor, Jake greeting the humans who passed by them, taking samples from the nature. Neytiri walked up to where the food was being prepared, a group of woman sat by some small children who they looked after while parents were away doing chores. She grabbed one of ladies by the arm and dragged her towards Jake who only stared in confusion. Soon morphing into realisation.

“Introduce yourself” The warrior exclaimed harshly. Knowing that Mo’at has already told her of the plans, she knew going to her daughter first would cause another war and the elder planned to avoid it. So telling the new mate first was the best option for everyone.

“___ te Syakx Hìfey’ite” the woman’s ears lowered to her head and she faced the ground. The pain in her arm where Neytiri gripped was hard, sure to bruise. “I am a gatherer, a healer. I do not hunt like you or -“ Neytiri squeezed her arm to silence her, having enough of her talking.

They were close in age, both eighteen years old and fully grown adults. They both attended Grace’s school together growing up, they were close. ___ was closer with Neytiri’s sister though, Sylwanin. When she died, the younger sister blamed everything on the other girl. Cursing her out and they never talked again until now.

___ was nervous, she knew she had to mate with them, both of them. She knew that the other woman was angry at her still, even after two years. She could not blame her for the grief of her sibling. But over something she did not do? She was not at fault here.

“Nice to meet you” Jake said curtly, not really wanting to talk any further. He did not like the idea of a second mate either, even on Earth it was extremely taboo so he felt awkward on the matter. Neytiri let go of her arm and dragged Jake off, presumably to talk about anything but the ceremony that is supposed to be held later today. Announcing the decisions their Tsahìk has made to the clan, surely they would all be most pleased. ___ could not say the same towards the couple who walked off.

One part of her thought that they just wanted to be alone for a while, being more recently mated and being thrown into another relationship was confusing and disrupting, she understood that. But the more rational part knew that while Neytiri continued to dislike her, she knew their life together would be filled with nothing but pain and suffering. But she would put on a brave face. For her own sake and the clans. Eywa has spoken.

But is what Eywa saying right?

She was correct, the clan was most happy. Despite some whisperings here and there, they would have to agree that they would all make a good trio. ___ was a good healer, she was gifted with her skills. She was also good to the elderly and children, always happy with a smile on her face. Neytiri was a good huntress and a Tsahìk in training, her battle abilities are most adored on. Jake, he was their Toruk Makto, Rider of Last Shadow. He was well respected in that alone.

But while the Omaticaya was happy, she was not. Sat next to Jake on his left she was left to eat in silence as him and Neytiri conversed without her. Not even looking in her direction once. She figured that they would not talk to her all through the night and decided to make peace with herself.

A little girl tapped her shoulder and ___ turned around to face one of the children she often looked after, Sray. “You are going to be mated to them?” she looked at her Olo’eyktan and his wife, yellow eyes wide.

___ nodded and forced a smile on her face “Yes, Sray. I will be” she stated softly, not comfortable with saying the revelation out loud.

Suddenly Sray sniffed, doe eyes watering “does that mean you will not have time for us anymore? Please sa’nu! I do not want you to leave!” the sweet girl jumped in the adults arms and clung to her chest, fearing that if she let go, ___ will disappear.

“Ma ‘evi, I will always have time for you and everyone else, just because I will be mated, does not mean I will not see you ever again” ___ kissed Sray’s head, wiping her little tears and grinning. Bringing comfort to the girl, Sray smiled back, still sniffling.

“LeNa’vi! Fìtxon awnga fpe’ pxefo mìso!” the people cheered, raising their drinks and whooping. The three will be mated under the tree of souls, to legitimise the union.

Jake and Neytiri looked at each other, worry in the man’s and anger in the woman’s. They did not want to do anything with her, but would have to make it look like they had, they were not stupid. If they did not do this then the people will become angry, it would be a disgrace. Only the great mother shall know.

Standing up, Jake held his large hand out to his wife who took it. Letting go and walking towards the direction of the tree, they would not take the ikran, but rather run through the night. Jake then turned to look at ___ who still sat with Sray in her warm arms, he nodded his head to the direction Neytiri went and followed her.

A little hurt that he did not offer his hand to her, ___ kissed Sray’s forehead and stood up, walking after them. As they got deeper into the forest they began to run, ___ tried her best to catch up but the two were hunters, they were more used to navigating the thickness of the fauna better than her.

“W-Wait!” she called in English, but the two ignored her and ran further ahead of her. ___’s ears slicked back and she huffed to herself, heart beating erratically with annoyance.

At some point the jungle got too thick for her to get through and she paused, the two she was following nowhere in sight. She twisted around, straining her ears to hear any calls or footsteps to help guide her. But to no avail, she lost them. Meaning she herself did not know where she was, this part of the forest was so much further out from the old hometree, a part she has not navigated before.

Her breathing started to speed up, panicking. Did they leave her? Alone? Here? She knew they did not like her, but this was too much. It was past eclipse and night, anything could come to kill her.

A rough hand grabbed her arm, the same one Neytiri held earlier that day and turned her around. An angry Jake stood there with brows furrowed, fangs bared. “Why did you stop?” he growled, ears slicked back “you were supposed to follow, not stop and sightsee like a lunatic!”

She did not know what that word meant, but by his tone it was something mean. Her own ears pressed against her head and her tail tucked between her legs, she yelped as she was harshly dragged through the forest, Jake never letting go of her arm even as they got to the tree of souls.

He let go and stood next to Neytiri who had her queue attacked to one of the hanging branches, tendrils letting go and she broke the bond. Turning to see ___ with a hand on her arm, the bruises were darker than before, the sting aching the area and making her hesitant to move it.

The warrior glared at her and snarled “you will have a baby put in you, as it is the way. But we are not bonding. Never. You will deal with that shame” she barked in Jake’s native tongue, her words were harsh and the prospect of not bonding with the only people she could was demeaning, it brought water to her yellow eyes. This was low, a baby without a bond was seen as disgrace. She would bring great shame to Na’vi.

“Neytiri-“

“Kem si ke plltxe kurkung!” ___ closed her mouth, she did not want to anger Neytiri further than she has. Jake, who stood watching the ordeal, strolled towards ___ and pushed her down onto the ground, pulling her loincloth to the side and doing the same to his.

“Pey! Oe kawkrr-“ her words were again cut off as pain filled her lower abdomen, he entered her. It was her first time and he just did it so fast without considering her feelings. Tears streamed down her soft cheeks, pained noises leaving her mouth as Jake started to move. He manhandled her onto her stomach, pressing his hand to her lower back above her tail bone, if the pain at her core wasn’t enough then the sensitive space on her back was.

Neytiri simply watched as her glare burned holes into the girl beneath her, the person that ruined her life. That took her sister away from her, took everything. She was not going to welcome this destroyer into her family, never. She’ll make sure ___ and her children will be shamed, if not by the people then by her own kids and husband.

___ felt something warm release inside of her, oozing out of her hole. She felt Jake lift off of her and heard him step towards his mate, both of them softly talking to one another while ___ was left to curl up, sobbing quietly. The man that was supposed to care for her, supposed to love her, took her dignity and now her first child.

Her heart squeezed in her chest as she could only imagine the future to come.

previous | next

[sailorrhansol]

Minors do not interact. This content is not for you. For more on why it's harmful for minors to read adult content, please check out these resources: ❀ Resource ❀ Resource ❀ Resource ❀

Tag List Request Form | Note: I will add member sections as I write fics for them vs. listing all thirteen banners with no content!

S - smut ❀ A - Angst ❀ F - Fluff ❀ P - Platonic ❀ H/C - Hurt/Comfort ❀ DD - Dead Dove

o n e s h o t s

Amnesia | S | A | Seungcheol x f. reader | Friends with Benefits to Lovers | Hint of Angst | Completed

Choi Seungcheol has never been the type to commit to relationships - casual is more his thing. You’re fine with that - except you and Seungcheol seem to be terrible at casual when it comes to one another. 

Hush | S | Incubus!Seungcheol x afab reader | Supernatural | PWP | Requested | Completed

You can’t seem to sleep, but the strange man in the bar that you can’t visiting promises he can help. 

o n e s h o t s

You. Always. | S | F | Soonyoung x f. reader | Established Relationship | Complete

Soonyoung isn’t a jealous guy - he’s not. But sometimes it gets to him, the way other people look at you and fall a little in love with you. Don’t they know you have him? 

o n e s h o t s

Chat, is that Rizz? | S | F | Streamer!Wonwoo x Streamer! f. reader | Established Relationship | Faux Rivals | Complete

Your rivalry with Wonwoo has existed for as long as you’ve been streaming. It’s fun, and both of your communities love it. Wonwoo is happy to play along - at least until you question his rizz while live, and he feels like he should remind you just how much rizz he has.

Sweetest Thing | S | F | Dad!Wonwoo x Mom!Reader | Established Relationship/Married Couple | PWP | Complete

For the first Halloween in years, you and Wonwoo are able to enjoy it together without the kids. When you feel a little nervous about your costume, Wonwoo is determined to show you that you’ve always been the sweetest thing. 

O N E S H O T S

Storm Breaker | S | A | Jaeger Pilot!Jihoon x Jaeger Pilot!Reader | Rivals to Lovers | Pacific Rim AU | Collaboration | Complete

It’s a known fact Lee Jihoon is one of the best pilots the Jaeger Program has. The only problem? He can’t keep a co-pilot to save his life. He thinks you’ll just be another Ranger in the rotation, but you are an unpleasant surprise. 

O N E S H O T S

Prism Power | S | F | Mingyu x afab reader | Established Relationship | Requested | Completed |

It’s your first Halloween with Mingyu as a couple and when a power outage threatens to ruin your favorite holiday, Mingyu makes sure to save the night. 

O N E S H O T S

Hello, Darling | S, A | Vernon x afab reader | Friends to Lovers | Supernatural | Thriller | Requested | Completed |

Vernon has been one of your best friends for years. Shy, quiet and calm, he’s always been a steady rock for you. He has no idea you’re in love with him, but that’s neither here nor there. After a strange series of events on Halloween night, Vernon seems a little… different, and the new version of him both terrifies and thrills you. 

o n e s h o t s

Blood & Popcorn | S | A | Chan x f. reader | Friends to Lovers | Idiots to Lovers | Complete

Fridays are reserved for watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer and stuffing your face with popcorn and pizza. It’s been like that for you and Chan since your freshman year of college. But when he skips your Blood and Popcorn night for a date, things take an unexpected turn. 

Still Watching? | S | Chan x f. reader | Established Relationship | PWP | Completed

Blood and Popcorn with your newly minted boyfriend is your favorite. Except now you watch a lot less Buffy and a lot more of Chan. 

Notice: This blog is against using artificial intelligence or any AI platform under any circumstances. You do not have my consent to share my works, words, or any content on this blog with AI under any circumstances.

Disclaimer: All members of Seventeen are faces and name claims for stories. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios. Moreover, none of my works accurately reflect, represent or take a stance on the nuances of Korean culture, cities, people etc. Seventeen members are not Seventeen culturally, intellectually, physically, or representationally in my stories, and should be considered name and face stand-ins for made up characters.

[thezombieprostitute]

The Arrangement - Part 10

Summary: Jake's done a lot of things to keep his sister, and then his niece, safe from his parent's influence and manipulation. If he wants to keep them safe, he has to marry you.

Warnings: Bad parents, Implied abuse, Implied violence. Let me know if I missed any!

Part 9 -- Part 11

Series Masterlist

As you calm down, Jake waits until you tell him to before he lets you go. He can't imagine how much you might need this so he'll hold you for as long as you want.

You sniffle and shake your head as you gently push away from him. "I'm sorry about that," you splutter.

"No need to apologize," he assures. "It's been a really crazy couple of days. Probably a lot longer than that for you."

"I should get to work on the dishes." You try to move past him but he holds out his arm.

"I said I'd do the dishes," he reminds you. "Not only did you cook breakfast, you cooked a lot more food than you should have. The least I can do is help out with the clean up."

"You had to actually talk to them," you quietly argue. "I just sat and refilled drinks."

"You also really helped me out, reassured me when I was feeling lost," he gently countered. "Please let me do this for you?"

It takes you a minute of internal waffling before you tell him, "okay. And thank you."

As you start tearing up again Jake is quick to ask, "are you okay? What's wrong? Do you need another hug? Are you hurt?"

"I'm just...I'm just not...not used to such kindness," you confess as you wipe the tears away.

"Doing the dishes for you is more than you're used to?" You nod and Jake feels a renewed wave of anger at your family. "Would...would it help if you supervised my cleaning? Make sure I'm not cleaning your cast iron by putting it in the dishwasher?" Your eyes go wide and you gasp, but he's quick to smile and reassure you that he would never do that. "It's one of the few cleaning things I will forever know, if only because it came up in a trivia night one time."

The giggle escapes before you even knew it was forming. You slap your hand over your mouth, embarrassed but Jake's eyes are lit up. Everything in his body language tells you he's not angry or offended at your outburst, but happy about it.

"If you want me to ignore that, I will," he comments. "But I would be happy to acknowledge it!" He looks at you like an excited puppy eager for praise and you can't help but continue giggling from behind your hand. He starts shaking with excitement but he's not saying or doing anything because you haven't said if you want it acknowledged. Unfortunately that's just making your fit more uncontrollable.

You remove your hand and gasp between fits, "it's okay. I'm so sorry. I don't know why I'm laughing this much. I'm sorry."

Jake lightly bounces as he assures you, "it's okay! There's nothing to apologize for! Sometimes a thing just tickles your fancy. It could also be a response to all the stress you've been through. When was the last time you had a really good cry? Or a really good laugh?"

"It has been a long time," you sigh, keeping your head down as you finally get your laughing under control.

"So, would you be willing to supervise me in the kitchen?"

"That sounds nice," you nod.

"And you promise to correct me if I do something wrong? Or before I do something wrong?" You hesitate at that. "I promise I don't want to upset you. I just...we're going to be going to a lot of parties soon. I'll have no idea what I'm doing. I'm going to need your help." You look up at him, eyes a mix of emotions. "I...I get the impression you're not...you don't correct others." You lower your face in shame. "Hey, it's not...I get why. I really do! It's not a judgment, I promise!" Jake's tone becomes a little more frantic, but no less pleading, soft. "And I'm gonna need your help to not make an ass of myself at these parties. That includes correcting me or stopping me before I do something stupid. The kitchen supervision could be a good way to practice that for us?"

"That...that makes sense," you agree. "I promise to try?"

Jake smiles, "thank you so much, Sharky!"

"Sharky?"

"Sorry, I'm used to friends with nicknames," he quickly explains. "And, I figured you...you like sharks so much you literally studied them...I swear it sounded better in my head." His face looks chagrined as he rubs his hand on the back of his head.

"I...I've never really had a nickname before," you tell him. "I kinda did when I was studying, but it was definitely derogatory." Jake's eyes turn sad. "Derogatory regarding my background. No matter how much work I did, I was still called 'Princess' because of my family." You shake your head to dispel the memory. "But 'Sharky' sounds a lot nicer." You give him a soft smile that has Jake's heart fluttering.

As the dishes get loaded into the dishwasher and the others await the required handwashing, you decide to ask Jake about something that's been bothering you.

"Your father," you hesitate, knowing it's a sensitive topic. "He mentioned something about your niece?"

Jake sighs, the smile on his face dropping. "You remember my sister was engaged to Travis?"

"Of course."

"I got her out of it by, essentially, hiding her far away from here. She met someone, fell in love, and they had a daughter." Your eyes widen slightly in surprise. "She's only 8 years old," he continues. "But she's super stubborn, like her mother. Smart, like her father. And she's damn good at soccer, minus some bad calls from a ref."

You smile a little at that. It's very clear he cares a lot for her.

"But my parents found out about her," he continues. "They hinted that they know where she and Sarah live and they flat out told me that, unless I agreed to marry you, to be the obedient son they always wanted, they were going to marry her off to your brother."

You gasp at that. You knew your parents were determined to solidify power and position by combining the families but you didn't think they would go so far! And to your brother, who would be twice her age upon marrying her! Your blood freezes as you think of how badly he'd hurt her.

"Hey, Sharky? You okay?"

Jake's voice breaks through the bad memories, "sorry. I just...I'm happy to help you keep her safe."

"Thank you for that."

Part 9 -- Part 11

Series Masterlist

Tagging: @alicedopey; @ashdoctor; @delicatebarness; @ellethespaceunicorn; @irishhappiness

@jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly; @thiquefunlover63

[delicateflowerss]

Don't Worry, Darling: Seven

After marrying the love of your life, Rafe Cameron, you thought you couldn't be happier. But when a murder shakes the island, you learn you don't know your husband as well as you thought. When does Paradise become Hell?

Warnings: 18+, DUB-CON, forced pregnancy, mentions of murder, mention of birth control, choking, dark!Rafe, kook!reader, non-canon ages

Word Count: 2.9k

Series Masterlist

All you can do is stare at the liquid in your glass, barely sipping from it.

The red color of the fruity drink now reminds you of something else. Something that once was sweet and syrupy is now only grotesque in your eyes.

You wonder if everyone notices that you’re not your usual self. The constant noise in your mind doesn’t even stop for your friends.

Can they see that you’re suffocating right in front of them? Taking your last breaths, gasping for air.

Rafe’s fingers dig into your waist. His grip can’t get any tighter.

The conversation around you sounds like it’s coming from an old radio, only getting a few words every now and then.

Someone you knew from high school decided to throw an anniversary party for her and her husband. You thought throwing a party for a one-year anniversary was a little early, but what do you know?

You’re not sure you and Rafe will even make it to that.

Your friends and Rafe’s friends are all standing by the swimming pool. The blue glimmers in the sunshine while you all listen to whatever story your husband has now.

They have no idea.

You catch Caroline’s eyes drop to the hand on your waist.

She meets your gaze when she sees you staring, and she smiles like she’s happy for you.

You quickly move your eyes away.

Caroline’s your oldest friend, the one you always felt you could talk to. She’s someone you’ve even felt like you needed a kind of approval from.

Now she thinks you and Rafe are the couple everyone else should look to in order to have a perfect marriage and perfect lives.

No one would even believe you if you screamed it from the top of your lungs - the truth about Rafe Cameron.

The man you married.

Things have been quiet since that night.

There haven’t been any police knocking on your door and no more rumors being whispered about what happened to Chase.

It almost feels like everyone forgot about it, moved on to the next thing.

Except, you know that’s not the case.

Jake’s wife did report him missing. But for some reason, the police aren’t searching for him.

Maybe they found out he was having an affair. They must think he’s off the island with his mistress. If his wife knows too, maybe she’s not really upset about her husband being missing.

At least that’s what you like to tell yourself.

You worry this is the calm before the storm.

But maybe you deserve whatever happens next. As long as it gets rid of this gnawing inside your belly and chest, eating anything in its path. You wonder if it has gotten to your heart yet.

You don’t anticipate the jolt when Rafe moves. He’s already unsteady from the whiskey he’s been drinking and too invested in the conversation to have any regard for you.

The liquid in your glass jumps out, landing on the white of your dress.

A gasp leaves your lips as a pool of red stains the expensive fabric. It’s not lost on you what it looks like, tears almost springing to your eyes.

Your friends gasp too, staring at you in horror.

Rafe’s hand eases only a little.

He looks down at you, slight annoyance on his face.

“You gotta be more careful, babe,” is all he says.

You get the sudden urge to push him away, screaming words at him you’re not sure you’ve ever said to him before.

But that would cause a scene and he is way too unpredictable right now.

“I’m just going to go clean up,” you tell everyone before finally leaving Rafe’s grasp.

“I’ll go with you.”

You hear him catch up to you. The chance to get a breath of air is gone as you feel the noose around your neck only squeeze you tighter.

He follows you into the house and you leave your glass on a marble tabletop before finding the bathroom.

It’s big enough for you and Rafe to stand comfortably in. Nice towels are waiting to be used and the smell of coconut and sandalwood wafts through the air.

For some reason, you feel your stomach churn from the strong scent. It confuses you because you have always liked sandalwood.

Maybe it’s because he’s standing too close to you, ruining a chance for you to be alone.

You can’t tell if his clinginess is out of distrust of you or a need to be close to you.

“I don’t think that’s coming out,” he comments while you blot your dress with a hand towel you dampened.

You frown but continue, not really having a choice if you’re going back out there.

“Hey.” He grabs your wrist, stopping your movements. “It’s fine. We’ll get it dry cleaned.”

You lock eyes with him as you stop. It only takes you a moment before you throw the towel onto the counter.

It’s easier to listen to him.

That’s how it’s been the past couple of weeks, no arguments, and no talk of what happened that night. It’s almost like it didn’t happen. Rafe goes to work every day and you stay at home.

But you know it did.

You sleep next to a murderer every night, eat dinner with him, kiss him when he gets home.

You understand why your friends don’t suspect him. He doesn’t look like he killed two people. He looks like a normal, well-adjusted human being.

Except you can see the cracks that no one else can.

You had found him in the kitchen one morning, seemingly talking to no one but himself. You couldn’t make out what he was saying, just low mumbles leaving his lips. But it sounded like his half of a conversation.

It took him a few seconds to notice you standing there. You quickly wiped the worried look off your face, pretending you didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.

“You know,” he begins. His eyes wander your body as he fixes the strap of your dress. “They’re not going to notice if we’re gone for a little while longer.”

He then wraps his strong arms around you, pushing you against the counter.

“Rafe-.” You try to protest but he holds the back of your neck as he captures your lips in a bruising kiss.

He hasn’t been able to keep his hands off you since that night either. You worried he might be trying to get you pregnant, but you’ve been adamant about him not finishing inside you.

Maybe he just wants to feel close to you.

Whatever the reason is, it’s another thing you say yes to, unsure about the consequences if you don’t.

“What if someone hears us?” you ask when he takes his tongue out of your mouth.

“No one’s going to hear us, baby. You’re acting like we’ve never fucked at a party before,” he says before kissing your neck.

His teeth graze your skin as your eyes fall onto the locked door, deciding to give in.

You grab his bicep, a moan escaping you as his fingers disappear into your underwear. He rubs your swollen clit before moving to your dripping hole.

His teeth sink into the delicate skin of your neck and your lips part, feeling both pain and pleasure.

It’s not long before he’s pulling down your underwear, lining himself up with your aching cunt and pushing inside.

He groans when he fills you up, his cock stretching you out before driving himself into you.

You keep yourself balanced on the bathroom counter, letting his hips meet yours with every rough thrust.

Lately, you’ve found yourself having to close your eyes sometimes, even when you’re dazed with pleasure. It helps keep the ghosts away.

You think you’re being haunted and being close to their murderer doesn’t help.

Rafe’s hand around your throat forces you to snap your eyes open.

“Eyes on me,” he rasps out. “Eyes always on me. I need to see you when you come around my cock.”

He squeezes your neck and fear runs through you. But it doesn’t stop you from clenching around him at a particularly deep thrust from him.

Rafe has put his hand around your neck about a hundred times and you never felt scared before.

“You’re soaking my cock,” he says through ragged breaths.

You bring him closer to you as he keeps his fast pace. Your head falls onto his shoulder, his hand having fallen from your throat.

As you’re pushed off the edge, your cunt squeezing around him, you can feel tears at the corners of your eyes.

You end up burying your face into the blue cloth of his button-up, asking yourself why you were able to come at all.

It’s only a few days later when Rafe comes home with a special surprise for you.

He makes you close your eyes before you feel him clasp something around your neck.

“You can open your eyes,” you hear him say.

When you do, you find a delicate-looking pearl necklace decorating your neck. You stare at it in the mirror. Your mouth falls open a little, fingertips hovering over the pearls like you’re worried they’ll break.

Rafe watches you in the reflection too, adoration filling his blue eyes.

“I love it, Rafe,” you tell him softly. “Thank you.”

“Anything for my wife,” he quietly says. He brings his fingers to the pearls of your necklace, lightly touching them. “My beautiful wife.”

He seems to be somewhere else, like he’s remembering something. His fingers graze your neck causing goosebumps to follow in his trail.

“I always thought a pearl necklace would look good around this pretty neck.”

The necklace was only the first of many expensive gifts from Rafe. Perfume, dresses, and even more jewelry. You think it must be his guilty conscious causing him to make it up to you in his own way.

You suppose you can’t complain, even if it doesn’t undo what he did.

Enough time has passed that you thought the police had forgotten about Jake, or at least let the case go cold.

So, as you stare at the TV, you can feel your whole world tilt.

Jake is now officially missing according to the police.

You try to catch Rafe’s eye from the other side of the couch, but he goes right back to his phone, ignoring the news all together.

You reach for the remote, turning it off.

“This is bad,” you simply say, not knowing how to talk about the very thing you two have been avoiding.

He doesn’t acknowledge you and you wonder if he even heard you.

You say his name loudly.

Finally, he looks at you.

“What?” His brows are pulled together and the tone in his voice is one you haven’t heard in a while. “The police don’t know shit, alright?”

You swallow, starting to get nervous.

“They’re going to find his body,” you explain. “Things don’t stay in the ocean forever.”

He loudly sighs before standing up, walking away from you.

You immediately do the same, following him.

“They already think you killed Chase,” you call after him.

He stops for a moment before turning around to face you.

A coldness has crept into his eyes and a chill crawls up your spine.

“Then why haven’t they arrested me?”

“They probably don’t have enough evidence to charge you. But believe me, they think you did it,” you tell him, even if you might regret it. Your eyes fall to the floor, unable to keep looking at his face. “Which means they’re looking for any evidence they can find.”

“Why does it sound like you know something I don’t?” Suspicion laces his tone as he steps closer to you.

You almost want to pull back when he gets too close.

“I don’t. I’m just scared, okay?”

His eyes soften when your voice cracks.

You really are just scared. You’re just not sure if you’re more scared of going to prison or of your husband.

You can see him visibly calm down before staring into your eyes. He gently places his hands on your hips as if to steady you.

“I know. But I have everything under control.” There isn’t an ounce of insincerity in his voice. “You don’t need to worry about a thing.”

You want to believe him. You want to let him wrap you in his arms so he can tell you everything’s going to be okay.

But that’s the thing about men, their lies are so easily believed.

Probably because they believe in it themselves.

You wish you could lie like Rafe.

You had already offered to take Sarah out to lunch before the news broke. And there’s no way you’re going to cancel on her, already feeling bad that you’ve barely seen her this summer.

You sit across from the blonde girl at the Island Club, sipping on iced teas, waiting for your meals to come out.

She’s already told you what she’s been up to since you talked to her last. Most of it has to do with John B and the rest of her friends.

You try not to frown when she mentions JJ. You haven’t talked to him since the day your whole life changed.

If you hadn’t talked to him that day, you would have never found Rafe’s bloodied shoe and you might still be living in ignorant bliss.

But you know he was just trying to help you, to protect you even.

You’ve thought about talking to him again, but it would just make things worse. You would say something you’re not supposed to, and you would end up dragging him into the trouble you’re in.

So, you do your best to not run into him when he comes over to maintain the pool.

“Have you talked to your dad yet about UNC?” you ask curiously.

She sighs, setting her glass down on the table. “Not yet. I think I’m just stalling at this point.”

“Maybe you’re still trying to figure out what it is that you really want.”

“I want to be here, with my friends, my boyfriend,” she explains. “Even my family. I would get to see you more often,” she adds, trying to make her point.

You smile. “And I would love to see you all the time,” you tell her.

Then your smile drops as your eyes fall to your lap.

When you look up, you find a question in her brown eyes.

“Your friends are good people,” you begin. “I mean that wholeheartedly. I wish more people were like them.”

Your voice lowers as Sarah furrows her brow.

“But you need to get as far away from this island as possible, Sarah.” You find her hand on the table, squeezing it while giving her advice like a big sister would. “Go have a life away from your family.”

You let go of her hand, leaning back in your chair.

“Is this about Rafe?” she asks, raising her eyebrows.

When you don’t answer, she continues, “I keep hearing my dad on the phone with his lawyer. I can’t exactly tell what he’s saying…but I do hear Rafe’s name come up a lot.”

It doesn’t surprise you that Ward knows, and of course he’s going to protect his son in any way he can.

She leans forward in her chair, a hush falling over her voice.

“Did Rafe do something?”

A dread fills her eyes, almost like she already knows the answer.

You look away from her, slightly shaking your head. But you’re not convincing enough because she doesn’t believe you.

“Does it have to do with that guy he worked with? That man at Midsummers thought so…now he’s missing.”

You can see the realization hit her as she’s speaking. She falls back into her seat like she got the wind knocked out of her.

You can feel your chest start to tighten, worrying about the consequences of Sarah knowing.

“What should we do?”

“Nothing,” you quickly reply. “There’s no evidence. It’s just speculation.”

You try to keep your face expressionless, but you know you’re failing.

“But you know it’s true.” It doesn’t shock you that Sarah would be one of the first people to believe her brother is a murderer. “You don’t have anything to take to the police?”

She takes the hopeless look on your face as a no.

“He hasn’t hurt you, has he?” Anger and concern fill her voice like she’s already plotting her revenge on your behalf.

“No. I’m fine. But you need to stay out of this, Sarah.” She doesn’t think she’s ever heard you sound so serious. “It’s way too dangerous.”

You stop for a second, thinking.

“Actually, you need to pretend this conversation didn’t happen.”

“Y/N-.”

“I mean it, Sarah,” you snap.

Before she can say anything else, the food comes out. You two end up eating in silence.

To make a bad day worse, you have a doctor’s appointment to get to after your lunch with Sarah.

Your doctor just needs to check a few things before you’re prescribed your new birth control.

You sit under the harsh fluorescent lights, waiting for the doctor to come back with the confirmation that everything looks fine.

For some reason, you feel more anxious than usual and when the doctor comes back, you find out why.

“We got your urine test results back,” she starts.

You swear you can feel the world stop when the next few words come out of her mouth.

“You’re pregnant.”

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[la-petite-lapin]

Double the Love | Part Four

Double the Love masterlist

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x female civilian!OC Word Count: 2.1k Series warnings (may change between chapters): 18+ Minors DNI, angst, mentions of death, mentions of violence, injury description, eventual explicit sexual content, polyamory, M/M/F, FMC is bad at feelings, Johnny and Ghost bicker like an old married couple

An argument and a conversation

After the game ends, Gaz and John don't immediately leave.

Instead, we start watching a comedy action series about an American SWAT team. Listening to them laugh and point out all of the inaccuracies brings a smile to my face and it stays there until my cheeks ache.

By the end of the third episode, darkness is settling outside the windows. Gaz hits the stop button before the fourth one can start, slowly rising up from his seat on the floor with a loud yawn.

"I should probably get going," he says, stooping down to collect his empty cans. "Need to stock up on my beauty sleep before the big day next week." There's a pause as he stretches, purposefully knocking into the side of John's head with his elbow. "Still coming with us, Ghost?"

I look up, brow furrowing as Ghost shifts uncomfortably in his seat. Johnny looks up too, equally confused.

"I dunno," he growls, eyes finding Johnny's. There's no small amount of guilt there. "Depends if you're happy with me going. Don't want to leave you here on your own when you're injured."

Wow okay. I cringe internally. He's gone from not being too keen on me to completely ignoring my existence in the space of a single day. And just when I though that - maybe - we were starting to make some headway. That has to be some sort of record.

Maybe it was stupid of me to think that we could be friends.

Johnny tilts his head. "What big day?"

"We're flying back to Russia to try and find some intel on the group that ambushed us," John supplies, shooting me a look. It's more than clear that this isn't information I should be privy to. It makes me wonder just how many rules and laws he's breaking by letting me be in the room for this conversation. "We won't be gone long. It should only take a few days."

"And, like I said," Ghost continues dryly, "I don't even know if I'm going yet."

"Well it's not like I'd be on my own. Tali is here." An edge creeps into Johnny's tone as he adds, "But it'd be nice to be told about things. I mean, it's not like I'm yer boyfriend or anything."

Now it's Ghost's turn to cringe. "It wasn't like that. I just forgot to mention it."

"Oh, ye forgot-" Johnny's voice is drenched in bitter sarcasm.

The previously light-hearted atmosphere in the room dies. All of the comfortable banter and humour that filled the apartment earlier is gone, giving way to awkward glances and stony silence. John rubs his hands along the lengths of his thighs, gaze flickering from me to Gaz - the aforementioned soldier not looking the least bit phased by the unfolding domestic. Instead, he takes a slow walk into the kitchen, depositing his empties into the recycling bin.

"I think you should go." Johnny's tone is full of certainty, and one look at his face shows me as much. His jaw is set; his usually happy eyes steely and full of something colder than I've seen from him before.

Ghost's mouth quivers before settling into a deep frown. "Johnny-"

"I think we should get going," John says softly, cutting off whatever else Ghost was about to say. He hooks a thumb in Gaz's direction. "Come on. I'll drive you home."

As Gaz walks back to the front door, putting his trainers on at a leisurely pace, Johnny excuses himself to the bathroom. Ghost remains on the sofa, his head in his hands as his back rises and falls with his quicker-than-usual breaths.

John surveys the unfolding scene with watchful eyes before turning to me, pulling me into another bearhug, and leaning into my ear to say, "Are you sure you're going to be okay with them? I don't want them causing you any hassle with their bickering."

I lean up onto my tiptoes to reciprocate the gesture. "I'll be fine, John. Send Marcella my love and stay safe, okay? When you come back, we're having that dinner you keep banging on about."

John chuckles as he pulls away, a broad smile on his face. "I will, and I will. You take care of yourself too, Tali. I'll message you whenever I can."

I exchange a brief goodbye with Gaz - him promising that I'll see him again very soon, and me giving him my phone number to arrange another movie night - before I'm alone in the apartment with the bickering lovers once again. Though, it doesn't stay that way for long. After about ten minutes, Ghost stands up. He whips around the apartment, grabbing his coat, his balaclava, and his shoes, then mumbling something about going for a walk. I'm still clearing up the bowls when I hear the front door open then slam shut.

"Has he gone out?" Johnny's voice rings out from the hallway just seconds later.

"Yeah."

"Okay." He walks out from the hallway leading to the bedrooms and the bathroom, coming to stand with me in the kitchen. "I'm sorry ye had to see that. Ghost and me... sometimes we argue. A lot."

I shrug. "Don't worry about it. As long as you don't start screaming at each other, it's all good."

Johnny nods, leaning back against the counters. "Do ye need a hand tidying up?"

Before I can tell him to leave it, Johnny's standing right next to me, drying the dishes that I'm just starting to wash. We're elbow-to-elbow in front of the sink. Every once and a while, his arm brushes against mine, sending tingles down my spine.

Even though I know I shouldn't, I catch myself sneaking glances at him while we do the dishes. I can see more details up close; a small pearlescent scar across the top of the bridge of his nose, a tiny fleck of scar tissue under one bright blue eye, a cluster of freckles along one side of his jaw. There's no denying that he's a beautiful man, even with the tiny imperfections scattered across his skin - which has regained it's colour since we first met.

And I know that I shouldn't keep looking, but I can't help it.

We work in comfortable silence until the dishes are done. It's been about half an hour since Ghost left but neither of us mention that as we take up our usual positions in the living room.

"Want to watch a movie?" Johnny asks, his voice soft and hopeful in that heart-melting way of his.

"Only if you pick something."

"Rom-com?"

I nod in confirmation. "Rom-com."

We're about twenty minutes into the movie when Johnny catches my attention. Silently, he motions to the stretch of sofa beside him, tilting his head to one side. The question is implied: come sit with me. I hop up from the armchair and sink down next to him, leaving a gap between us in case he isn't comfortable with physical contact.

"Mind if I lie down?" Johnny's words are a gentle hum over the montage happening on the screen.

There's a tightness in my chest at the way he looks at me, and I try my best to ignore it. "Sure. Go for it."

He lays down, placing his head in my lap. It instantly reminds me of the way he lies down with Ghost when they watch TV.

After a minute, I let my hand tangle in the longer hair of his mohawk, toying with the strands. He lets out a sound that's as close to a purr that I've ever heard a human make; a low rumbling sound that emanates from deep within his chest. I can feel the warmth of his skin as he nuzzles his cheek against my thigh, the prickle of his stubble biting at my skin through the fabric of my linen pants.

"This okay?" he asks in the same low, soft tone.

My breath catches in my throat. Even though I know he's in a relationship with Ghost - I know - a traitorous part of me still asks one damned question. What if?

"Tali?"

"Yeah." Even over that one, simple word, my voice quivers.

Johnny doesn't seem to notice. "If I fall asleep, wake me up. Okay?"

I don't reply. Not verbally. Instead, I just card my fingers through his hair, running my nails along his scalp as he melts even deeper into my lap.

I wake up when the front door opens. The TV is still playing; filling the apartment with a soft, constant ebb of noise. The remote is next to my free hand, the other still tangled in Johnny's hair. Consciousness returns to me in bits and pieces, but I don't fully remember the hour directly before I fell asleep until Ghost is standing right in front of me.

His face is covered by his hood and the black balaclava as he towers over me, eyes trained on Johnny, who is still sleeping peacefully with his head in my lap.

I half expect Ghost to shout at me; to accuse me of something or tell me to get away from his boyfriend. Instead, he drops down onto the couch cushion beside me - the side of the sofa not occupied by Johnny's legs - and drapes his arm along the back behind me.

When he finally speaks, it's to say, "Is he still mad at me?"

I shake my head. "I don't think so." My fingers continue to draw patterns on the shaved section of Johnny's head, twirling swirls and simple patterns in it. "We didn't really talk about what happened. We watched a movie then fell asleep."

Ghost grunts. "Johnny isn't like me. He's a good man; he trusts people with his whole heart. He's quick to let people in."

A moment passes and, just when I think he's done talking, he adds, "If I leave for Russia with John and Gaz, will you take care of him for me? Please." He taps me on the shoulder and my gaze lifts from Johnny's face to his. His expression is serious, readable even with the mask; his hazel eyes dark and full of emotion. "I won't be able to focus unless I know he's safe and being taken care of. And I... I think I can trust you, Tali."

I don't know Ghost; I don't know him at all. But he seems like a man who very rarely says those words.

"You're a friend of Price's and - quite frankly - Johnny could kill you if you tried shit," he elaborates, negating some of the sentiment from that previous statement.

I choke out a laugh so abruptly that I immediately check to see if I've woken Johnny up. He's still sound asleep. "I don't doubt it." My gaze returns to Ghost's face, and I make an effort to hold his gaze as I say, "But I would never try anything with Johnny. He's like the human equivalent of a Golden Retriever, and I actually like having him around. I like having both of you around."

Ghost's eyes soften at the edges. All of a sudden, there's a bashfulness to him that I haven't seen before. Hell, I don't think anyone other than Johnny has. "Really? Even though I'm a right prick to you sometimes?"

I let out a breathy laugh. "Yeah, I guess. You know, I see some of myself in you. Being scared to trust others; distancing yourself from people so you can't get left behind." Ghost's eyes darken even more and he shifts almost imperceptibly, moving closer to me until his side is pressed against mine. "I understand it more than you think. But I also do agree that you could be a little friendlier with me sometimes. Maybe even tell me your actual name instead of keeping me at arm's length with your callsign."

He nods slowly. "Not my name; not yet, anyway. I'll be nicer though." There's a beat of silence as Johnny stirs. Again, he doesn't wake up. "So, who hurt you? And am I allowed to hunt them down?"

He says it so deadpan that I whole-heartedly believe he would given the chance.

"No names necessary. My parents are dead. They were killed in a car accident when I was young. And then my brother died last year." It physically pains me to voice that last part aloud. It runs over a raised, sore part of me, rubbing against raw nerves.

"I... fuck, I'm so sorry, Tali. I had no idea." Ghost's voice is rough, the usual gravel tinged with regret.

I frown. "It's not like you could've. John knows, but we don't talk about it. I... I don't really like talking about it."

He hums. "Understandable." There's a long pause, filled by the low hum of the TV. "I'm the last one left from my family too."

I don't ask him to elaborate, and he doesn't. We just sit in the moment and let it pass.

With Johnny's head in my lap as he sleeps soundly, and the warmth of Ghost's body against my side, for once, I don't feel so alone.

a/n: hey guys! from here on out, I'm going to try and post once a week at the least unless something in my personal life means I can't university is starting up again next week so I'm going to try my best :) - hope to see you all next week for part five, lapetitelapin :)

[whatswrongwithblue]

The Fire in the Sin

Chapter 14 - Welcome to Heaven

Word count: 6,179. Read on AO3. Series Masterlist. <- Previous Chapter.

Summary: (Only slightly takes place during the events of episode 6. The rest is preguel storeline.) Alastor is going into rut but a new arrival in town may threaten what is usually a happy time of year for him and Mina. TWs: Possessive Alastor. Dirty talk. Oral - Alastor receiving. Biting and scratching. P & V. Creampie. Multiple orgasms. Tentacles. Rough sex. Anal play. Use of a vibrator.

Series Summary:

In the 1950's, Alastor met the woman he would eventually marry but unfortunately his Radio Demon persona went for her soul rather than her hand. He has to learn what it means to love, and cherish, without possessing and he does. Their relationship is beautiful, strong, unbreakable . . . but he carries a dark secret through their marriage for decades until eventually he has to face the consequences of that secret and leave her, without warning, for seven years. He returns, finding her at the Hazbin Hotel, and has to convince her to forgive him, while being literally bound to secrecy, unable to tell her any of things he now is desperate to explain to her.

(This is a duel timeline fic, timestamps will be a the top of every chapter.)

Chapter 14 - Welcome to Heaven

Present Day

Mina was really trying to be patient.

Charlie was bouncing off the walls as she awaited her trip to Heaven that was only a day away. It was endearing, in a way Mina wasn’t used to, to see someone so hopeful and excited at the prospect of making a difference. She may not actually want to see redemption succeed, but Mina had to admit, Charlie’s determination to improve their lives and her continued expression of genuine care for everyone at the hotel was finally starting to defrost the cold bitterness in Mina’s heart.  

The meeting was all anyone could talk about. Which was fine. It was very important, Mina did realize that, so she kept her little problem to herself.

Alastor had been gone since the afternoon before and that was also . . . fine. He at least gave her a heads up he would have to be M.I.A., something he could do now, given that she knew about his deal. He just couldn’t tell her the why or the where or exactly how long he would be gone, he could only say that it wouldn’t be for very long.

And yet an entire night had passed, it was late into the next morning, and he was nowhere to be found. It was only a matter of time before one of the other residents mentioned his absence, since he and Niffty were usually the ones to prepare breakfast. And even on the days he didn’t assist her, Alastor always made an appearance by this time of morning.

Mina had been confident he would be back by now, given what day it was. And as each minute went by, she was feeling that old sting of abandonment, and was currently trying very hard to push it down.

Everyone but Charlie and Vaggie were downstairs, drinking coffee and sharing a tray of muffins, while the couple was upstairs going over their itinerary and packing for the millionth time that week.

Not usually one to be glued to an electronic device, Mina kept checking her phone. It didn’t even make sense because Alastor didn’t own one, but she still kept fidgeting with it, looking for some kind of notification from anywhere as to where he was.

She didn’t notice that Angel and Husker were both side-eyeing her, very aware of her irritated state, and given her history of lashing out at others whenever Alastor had upset her, were visibly nervous.

Niffty, however, had also noticed, and had no such reservations about bringing up sore subjects.

“Where’s Alastor?” she asked, after Mina had sighed and set down her phone for the tenth time that hour.

“He’s . . . busy,” Mina answered, trying to appear like she wasn’t bothered by his absence and that she was well aware of where he was. She failed at both.

“Isn’t today your anniversary?” Niffty asked.

Angel and Husk looked nervously at each other while Sir Pentious remained clueless to the sudden tension in the room.

“Really?” he said excitedly. “I didn’t realize you two had tied the knot!”

Everyone in the room stared blankly at him and Pentious sat back, realizing how clueless he had been all along.

“They’ve been married for like . . .” Niffty thought for a moment, and Mina stayed silent, hoping the maid’s math would be wrong. The shorter woman gasped, clapping her hands together, and Mina groaned. “40 years! You two have been married 40 years today!”

“Wait,” Angel interrupted, “I thought you guys said you've been together for 70 years?”

“Took a while to put a ring on it, didn’t he?” Husker laughed, glancing at her over the rim of his coffee mug.

“It was a mutual decision,” Mina snarled back, very uncomfortable with the sudden attention. “We didn’t feel like it was necessary.”

“So, what changed your minds?” Angel asked.

He was being genuine and not invasive, but it still made Mina shrink back on herself a little. While the wedding reception itself had been a public affair, Alastor’s reasoning behind finally tying the knot was personal. No one outside the two of them knew all the details and Mina wanted it to stay that way.

Niffty started giggling.

“Niffty . . .” Mina said, warning the woman to keep quiet.

No one outside the two of them knew all the details . . .but Niffty knew most of them.

“It was because of Kassandra,” Niffty pressed.

Sir Pentious gasped. “Another woman?”

Mina shot him a glare and he slunk back into his seat once more.

“Don’t be stupid, of course there wasn’t.”

“Not like that, anyway,” Niffty said, with a hand on her hip, nearly as defensive. “Kassandra was another Overlord that almost killed Mina.”

“Whoa, what?” Angel and Husker said in unison.

“Please, Niffty. It was a long time ago. And that was not the only reason, okay? And I do not want to talk about this right now.”

“Awww c’mon kittens, this is just getting good!” Angel protested.

Niffty, ignoring Mina’s protest, jumped up on the coffee table and turned towards the others.

“Rosie had been pestering Alastor for forever to propose but he just wouldn’t, I think because it was expected of him at some point and he doesn’t like to be told what to do, but then this lady came to Hell and already had a ton of followers that she brought with her, and tried to get to Alastor through Mina. And Alastor lost his mind, locked him and Mina in his tower for days, and then when he finally came out, Kassandra’s church suddenly went up in flames and her and her people were never seen from again, but you can still hear her screams on his radio station. OOOoooohhh! I bet when he gets back today, he’ll play them for you again! Anyway, they got married less than a month after that, so it’s probably what finally got him to pop the question.”

“Thank you, Niffty, for once again doing as I say,” Mina said.

The three men turned their heads slowly from Niffty to Mina, once again looking a bit nervous. Niffty, however, looked happy as ever.

“You don’t own my soul,” she shrugged, before jumping back down.

“And with that, I think I’ll be in my room if anyone needs me,” Mina said, standing up and making her way up the stairs.

“Damn. Smiles is gonna be in hot water when he shows back up,” Angel said after he was sure Mina was out of earshot.

“Nah, I don’t think so,” Niffty said. “He’s never forgotten an anniversary. Except, I guess, for the last seven. Hmmm, definitely going to have to play those screams for her.”

“Say,” Husker said, “I’ve never even heard of this Kassandra lady. How come, if it was such a big deal, no one ever talks about her?”

“Ooooh,” Niffty laughed, “they doooooo, just not around Alastor. There’s a reason why no one before her, and especially no one after her, ever tried to hurt Mina. Even when Alastor was gone all those years. He wiped Kassandra out like SPLAT!” she clapped her hands together in front of Husker’s face. “Nothing was left!” she cackled but then quickly turned her voice into a hushed whisper. “But that’s not all. What others don’t know is Mina was there, and she made all of the cult members start eating each other while Alastor made Kassandra watch as he hung her upside down from the ceiling. And he was dressed like a nun to scare her even more. Then, on top of all the blood, and guts, and screams, they had sex on Kassandra’s altar while she burned alive above them!” Niffty jumped up on Husker’s lap, grabbed him by his suspenders, and got very close to his face. “Don’t tell them that I know that or they’ll kill us all!”

Niffty leaped down from Husker and danced out of the room, laughing maniacally.

The three men watched her leave in silence, Sir Pentious looking the most bothered and scared.

“What. The fuck?” Angel said.

1984

Alastor had been agitated for weeks.

It was one thing to live with and love someone like him, who really needed space and only became more agitated with affection if he was upset about something. It wasn’t uncommon that Mina went a couple days without even a hug or a kiss from Alastor. Keeping up appearances, staying in charge of the souls he owned, having to deal with other Overlords and occasional royalty, sometimes took its toll on the Radio Demon and often left him in very adverse moods.

Mina understood and respected all of this. She would simply keep herself busy with her own work and make sure she was there for him when his mood changed. He was never cruel to her during these times, just very distracted and distant. She would always know he was coming back around when he would begin initiating touch with her again, usually when he would finally give in to exhaustion and wrap himself around her as he fell asleep next to her in bed.

It was a pattern that, after thirty years, Mina knew the the ins and outs of well, and had become comfortable with.

But the time for Alastor’s rut was approaching and he still seemed very wrapped up in whatever had held his attention from her for so long. She was beginning to worry that he had forgotten, and she was going to have to figure out a way to carefully remind him of it.

She was already seeing the signs of it in him. He was swearing more, sleeping even less, in some state of half dress whenever he was home, and almost constantly talking shit about the other Overlords, even the ones he usually got along with. Increased aggression and competitiveness were always the first signs so she knew that any day now, his rut would be in full swing, and they would have to either lock themselves in his tower or get away for a few days to some more remote part of Pride Ring.

There was a large part of her that was looking forward to it, after having very little physical contact with him for so long, but another part of her that was growing more apprehensive by the day. If he continued to ignore the signs and went into the aroused state of his rut as angry as he was, she wasn’t sure how much of his attention she wanted on her.

And the worst part was she had no idea who or what was bothering him so much. If it was Vox, she was sure she would have been subjected to several rants by this point, but Alastor wasn’t saying anymore about his old friend than he was about any of the other Overlords these days. Mina was truly at a loss but knew she should probably bring it up tonight before it was too late.

As soon as her shift was over at The Pit, she headed home, rather than using the downtime to see her friends like she normally did. Stepping out of her cab, she looked up at the radio tower where she had lived for the last twenty years. Shortly after it became obvious they had found themselves in a serious, committed relationship, he had done something with his Voodoo that she couldn’t comprehend, but allowed the essence of the radio tower to recognize her if she was in close enough proximity to it, and she could teleport herself via shadow into the upper rooms of the building. It had been a learning curve for her at first but after several decades, she was as good at it as he was.

She materialized inside the main control room and Alastor was on her within seconds.

Mina had a moment to take in the empty room before her, the view from the large windows of the city below, his neglected workstation, a scattered mess of food and coffee mugs, his jacket, monocle, bow tie, and cane all tossed in a corner. All things that were red flags for a very overstimulated and irate deer demon.

Then he was grabbing her from behind, his hands quickly finding their way under her sweater, his face to her neck, and breathing in her scent loudly.

“I missed you,” he whispered, using his nose to brush away a bit of her hair and then sucking hard on the bit of skin he had succeeded in exposing.

She wasted no time in responding and lifted an arm up and behind her, her hand finding the side of his head and gently grabbed a fistful of hair, as she tilted her neck and encouraged his amorous bites to her skin.

“Mmmm, I’ve missed you too,” she said, reaching even higher behind her and giving a playful flick to the top of one of his ears.

He let his grip on her loosen enough so that she could turn and face him.

Alastor was black eyed, his antlers already increased in size to three points each. He was completely disheveled and wild looking, and Mina knew no talking would happen – at least not well– until she had sated his needs. His rut had begun but it was just the first day. If she satisfied him now, he would calm soon enough, and she could ask him then about her concerns.

He began kissing her nearly before she could process the state of him, only breaking away from her for a second as he pulled her sweater up over her head. His hands roamed over the bare skin of her shoulders, teasing at the straps of her dress, before hungrily going lower and groping her fully clothed breasts.

Honestly, she was fine waiting. It had been two weeks since he’d touched her like this, and she was nearly as desperate for this as he was.

Mina was quick to escalate things and instead of losing time with worrying anymore about their clothes, her hand went to the tent in his pants. She wasn’t surprised to find him already fat and hard beneath her palm and he sucked in a breath against her lips when she grasped him through the fabric.

“I need you,” he said darkly, voice full of static and lust.

She nodded and eagerly returned to kissing him as she undid his zipper and pulled him free, giving his cock several long, slow strokes before she got down on her knees and took him in her mouth.

“Good girl,” he sighed, holding the back of her head with both hands, and encouraging her rhythm as she began sucking him off. “You know just what to do, don’t you?”

She felt the wetness begin to gather in her own panties, a reaction to his words of praise and the musky flavor of his cock on her tongue. Alastor in rut was so different from the lover she normally had in her bed. While she never felt like anything was lacking in their sex life, having him like this was her annual special treat. He said such nasty things to her once he was in full swing, often even degrading. Things he would normally never say, even if she asked him to. And he let her do things to him that were otherwise a rarity. Encouraged them, even. Mina was far from a pillow princess and enjoyed focusing on his pleasure, but she only really got to act out those desires this time of year.

She worked the base of his cock with her hand with short hard strokes as her mouth did the rest and in just a couple minutes he was cumming with a grunt, and she swallowed every bit of his hot seed, reveling in the salty taste of him.

He stayed hard as she licked him clean, his desires far from sated, and she pulled off her panties as she stood.

“No need for that,” he said, and grabbed her. For a second, they disappeared, lost in shadow, but then she was back in the same room, only now they were a few feet away, both naked, and he had her up against the wall.

He cupped her ass and obediently she jumped up, wrapping her legs around his hips. She squirmed a little, impatient for him to line himself up just the right way so that he could begin properly fucking her.

“Are you going to cum inside me this time?” she teased with a wicked smile when he finally had himself at her entrance.

“More than once. And you're going to take it all, aren't you?" he asked, though it sounded like a command, as he thrusted into her, biting down on her collar bone once he was fully buried inside her.

He groaned, pressing his forehead against hers. “God, I love you. You’re so wet for me already,” then paused, pulling back enough to really look into her eyes. “Are you . . . was that enough-“

“Yes,” she said quickly, and kissed him, “please just fuck me already.”

Of course he was still checking in with her. Foreplay was not something he skipped, even when lost to his deepest desires in rut, but the treat of going down on him had been more than enough to get her ready for him.

His smile broadened and he began moving, rocking his hips in the quick, shallow movements that their position allowed for. The angle of his penetration and the weight of her body bearing down on him made the friction just perfect, stimulating her inside and out.

Alastor kissed her hungrily, his tongue wet and forceful against her own.

“I love it when you taste like me,” he said as he broke away, giving her an extra enthusiastic thrust, “when you taste like your mine.”

This is what she had been waiting for and the delayed gratification was pure bliss. After having him so wound up in his work that she was left utterly neglected to suddenly fucking her brains out with little warning, her touch starved body was on edge and ready. She growled as her pleasure grew and she bit down on his shoulder, her large canines sinking into his flesh and drawing blood, and she felt him shudder against her before beginning to pound into her with renewed vigor.

“Oh, you evil little thing,” he panted into her hair, “can’t get enough, can you?”

She was breathing hard too now and let go of his shoulder to throw her head against the wall, exposing her own throat to him and gasping for air in between her moans and sighs.

His antlers were growing even larger now, spreading from four, to five, to six points as she watched them expand above her head. She was so, so close, but he must have been even closer. Mina used the one hand not grasping the back of his neck for support to wander down his back, searching for his tail but finding her access to it blocked by her own legs that were wrapped tightly around him. Crying out in frustration and on the brink of orgasm, she reached up instead, and grabbed hold of one his antlers to force his head back.

She kissed him hard, and he bit back in response, drawing blood from her lips as he came, filling her up to the point she could already feel his seed spilling out of her as his thrusts slowed down and then he finally stilled. 

Desperate for more, she could feel her walls clenching his shaft, her body begging for continued movement. She could feel him soften inside her but only just a little and she smiled against his kiss, blood spilling down her chin, matching the crimson trails coming off his shoulder from her own love mark.

“Don’t stop,” she said, half teasing and half begging.

“Show me how much you want it,” he replied, and pulled them away from the wall and began falling backwards.

They fell, merging as one into shadow, and landed softy on their bed in the next room over, with him beneath, still inside her, and already fully hard again.

Alastor was propped up slightly against their pillows, his antlers retreating back to a more normal size now that he was a bit more in control of himself, but his eyes were still black with desire. He sat up just a little more to reach behind her and slap her ass.

“Ride it,” he demanded, and she did as she was told.

The change in angle stimulated her swollen sex in new ways, and she was quickly back on the edge, bouncing her body in rapid motion on his cock, riding him just as he had commanded her to.

She leaned her body back, resting her palms on his thighs and he took the opportunity to begin rubbing her clit with tight, quick little circles that finally got her the relief she had been seeking.

Mina rode out her orgasm and it was the long lasting, powerful kind that she felt deep in her belly and left her feeling her pulse all the way down deep in her sex.

Alastor sat up as she began to come down from her high, sucking hard on her right breast and digging his claws into the upper curves of her ass, just hard enough to leave impressions in her skin, as he waited for her to pass the point of overstimulation, his member twitching impatiently inside her.

When her cries of pleasure turned back into heavy breathing, he released her red and hardened nipple and pulled her face to his for another deep and needy kiss, licking up the blood that was still seeping from his bite mark, before dragging them both down to the mattress until her chest was flush against his.

Slowly, he began moving again, his hips thrusting up to meet hers.

She let go of the kiss, burying her face into the pillow next to his, and moaned his name into his red and black locks of hair.

“Still want more?” he asked, though he was already beginning to quicken his pace.

“Please,” she whined.

Too impatient to switch positions, he fucked her from beneath, as she did all she could to just hold on, with one hand pressing against the mattress and the other holding vice-like onto a handful of his hair.

“You feel so good,” he sighed when she began kissing a line down from his hairline to his jaw, down his neck, and finishing at the still bleeding bite mark she had left on his shoulder.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” his voice changed to a low growl, and she responded to his words by gently pressing her lips to his wound, soothing the red and angry edges of her teeth marks.

Her pleasure was beginning to rebuild, and she joined in Alastor’s rhythm, bearing more of her weight down on his cock as she moved with him. She was soaking him, between her own wetness and his cum still inside her, and she could feel the combination of their fluids gathering at his base as her swollen lips rubbed against the neatly groomed black curls around his sex.

Alastor groaned loudly as she pumped herself up and down on him, and she could feel the vibration of his lusty filled sound against her lips as she sucked on the tender skin of his pulse point.

She hissed in a breath, a reflex to the sudden but wonderful pain, as his claws raked across her ass, leaving long shallow lines of red across her lower cheeks, and she could feel the tickle of fluid on her skin as some of the cuts began to lightly bleed.

“Are you going to cum for me again?” he asked as his shadows began to sprout from beneath him, tendrils of darkness that lightly traced across the skin of her back before pulling her down, forcing her to be held tight against him.

Mina was enjoying the thorough rough fucking she was getting but she wasn’t close to another orgasm yet, so she squeezed her inner muscles tighter around his thick cock to encourage him to keep moving.

“Don’t worry about me,” she assured him. “Just fill me up, love. Cum in me as much as you need to.”

Her words seemed to do the trick as she felt him beginning to lose sense of rhythm, his thrusts into her becoming more frantic and harder than before.

She cried out in response, feeling the increase of intensity herself, and in between her own wanton moans and whimpers, she whispered to him all the kinds of things he didn’t normally like to hear. How much she wanted him, how good his cock felt inside her, to fuck her harder, to mark her and breed her so that everyone would know she was his.

His hand grasped at the base of her tail, pulling it sideways, and she could feel a cool slender tentacle begin stroking the bottom side of it before dipping lower, playing and teasing at her ass and Mina’s body responded to the added sensation. That tight hot knot began to form again as she felt another orgasmic wave begin to build inside her.

But then she felt the warm rush of more cum being pumped inside her and she let herself relax as Alastor’s body began to still beneath hers. This was just the first few hours of the sex-driven part of his rut, and she knew she would have more orgasms than she could stand in the next two weeks.

Mina felt the shadows slithering away from her body and with the restraints gone, she pushed herself up enough so that her face could hover above his and he responded immediately by kissing her softly. Lips and tongue danced across each other as his post-orgasmic bliss settled his systems. Once she felt his cock begin to soften, Mina pulled herself off him and lay beside him.

Alastor chased her mouth with his as they settled into the new position, her on her back with him half on top, as he continued the long and sensual make-out session. After a minute, his left hand began to wander down her body, cupping her breast, stroking down her rib cage, and then teasing across her lower belly with a ghostly light touch.

“Still close?” he asked, lovingly rubbing his nose against hers.

“It’s okay,” she said sincerely, “consider it saved for later.”

“Not a chance,” he said, and she sighed at his stubbornness. He was such a top, even when he was in rut. “I have a present for you.”

Her brows knitted together in confusion as he sat up and turned away from her, reaching under the bed.

“Consider it an apology for being so . . . unapproachable . . . these last few days,” he said, and he turned back towards her, now holding a rather phallic looking slender device, but Mina was still confused.

“A dildo? Al’” she giggled, “you hardly need one of those.”

His smile spread mischievously, and he twisted the flat bit at one end of the strange sex toy, and it began to buzz. “I can’t make a shadow do this.”

Mina stared at the toy, suddenly intrigued.

“It’s called a vibrator,” Alastor stated.

“How creative,” she deadpanned but it was all for show. She couldn’t deny her heart rate was increasing a bit, even though she wasn’t sure what to expect.

He chucked at her. “Apparently they’ve been around a while but . . . well, I suppose we’re a bit old, aren’t we?”

She laughed a little at that as well but then he was leaning further over her, running the vibrator up the sensitive flesh of her inner thigh, and suddenly there’s was nothing funny about her situation.

“Allow me?” he asked and Mina nodded, her breath caught in her throat as he brought the toy up higher. Then it touched her clit and she flinched upwards a little, sitting up on her elbows.

“Oh, fuck!” she gasped, watching as the device Alastor was holding to her sex began its magic.

Alastor’s smile widened to a near unnatural state and Mina flung herself back on the bed. He followed her down, kissing her deeply and then began moving the vibrator up and down between her lower lips, using the cum seeping out of her as lubricant.

Mina began making the most lewd, senseless noises she thought she had ever made, completely helpless to the wonders the vibrator was working on her cunt.

Alastor began using his mouth on her body, sucking on her neck and then the top upper curve of her left breast, and then finally settled on her nipple, giving it a hard tug and flicking his tongue over the sensitive bud.

It was too much, and Mina came hard and fast, practically screaming beneath him, and then pulled away when the overstimulation took affect seconds later.

How long had she lasted with that devilish device? 15 seconds? Maybe 20?

“Holy shit,” she panted, taking in several rapid, deep gulps of air, and then looking sheepishly at Alastor who was grinning even more like a mad man than usual.

“Well, that was a wonderful performance,” he said, clearly very pleased with himself.

“I think,” he lowered his voice, leaning over her to press a kiss to her forehead, the tenderness a stark contrast to the darkness in his tone, “that you’re going to lose count of how much I make you cum for me tomorrow.”

___

By the time Mina had come out of the bathroom after relieving herself and cleaning up the mess between her legs, Alastor had changed the quilt on the bed that had suffered a rather large wet spot after their ravenous love making and had already started falling asleep.

Although she wasn’t truly tired herself, she crawled in next to him. Barely half awake, he wrapped his arms around her and rested his head on her naked chest. The tips of his long ears occasionally tickled her neck, but his antlers were back to their manageable two-pointed length, and Mina was able to settle in comfortably and read a book, while she absentmindedly ran her fingers through the soft two-toned locks of his hair, keeping her lover soothed and asleep with her purring as he caught up on some much-needed sleep.

After a couple hours, movement at the corner of her eye caught her attention and she watched as his shadow extended across the floor from its resting place beneath their bed, and traced upwards along the opposite wall, a tell-tale sign that Alastor was waking up. Then he began to stir, and Mina heard the little staticky radio buzz click on, so she set her book down, looking down at her love as he slipped off her onto his back beside her. Alastor slowly blinked and yawned, showing off all his sharp yellow teeth.

“Good evening, darling,” she smiled at him as he rubbed at his eyes with his knuckles, returning her smile.

“How long was I out?”

“Not too long,” she assured him. “Probably should be longer considering the state of you.”

He scoffed and she heard the bath water beginning to run in the adjacent room. She rolled her eyes at his stubbornness and proactively got out of bed, knowing he was going to just insist on it anyway.

____

Their bathroom was like their own personal oasis.

Over the years, Alastor had worked on learning how to use his magic for less nefarious and more decorative means. He had learned how to keep plants alive with artificial light sources and create false images that looked like windows. The room was steamy and humid, but never dank or reeking of mildew. It felt like a jungle . . . or swamp in the deep American south. There were vines everywhere and a willow tree grew half within the wall next to the shower, its long leaves reaching across the ceiling and dangling over where their tub sat. Part of the wall was made up of a large glass window that looked over what appeared to be a quiet, serene lakeside view at sunset. Mina could even see deer grazing at the distant edge of the water and an osprey circling overhead. It was all just imagery though; none of it was real. Alastor could and often did change the scenery to fit his moods but this one was one of his personal favorites.

Once they were settled into their large, clawfoot tub, Mina felt he was finally in a calm and pleasant enough mood to voice her worries with him.

Her hair was pulled up into bun, just behind the base of her ears to keep it out of the water, and she leaned against Alastor’s chest, her back to him, as he lazily rubbed her arms, occasionally dipping his hands into the bath water to coat her skin with a fresh layer of warm water and bubbles. He had tied up his own hair as well, though only halfway, and his bangs kept brushing against the side of her face, pleasantly tickling her. It was such a peaceful, intimate moment between them, making her almost hesitate to speak up.

“Will you talk to me?” she asked softly after several minutes. Her tone wasn’t accusatory or demanding. She just wanted him to know she was concerned for him. “About whatever or whoever it is that’s had you so on edge lately?”

Mina felt his chest rise and then fall with a sigh, though his body still felt relaxed beneath hers. She could tell he wasn’t frustrated with her question, just thinking about his reply.

“I take it you haven’t heard then? About this new self-proclaimed Overlord that has arrived in our city?”

Mina gave a small shake of her head. She really didn’t get involved in the politics of Hell and didn’t read the paper every day like Alastor did. So, unless he or Rosie brought it up, she mostly stayed out of the loop on things like that.

“It’s nothing to worry about, really,” he began. “She’s just this awful bitch of a woman who thinks she can already rank with the likes of me because she showed up with quite the following already. I guess she was a cult leader or something while alive. Mass suicide in her name or whatnot. It doesn’t matter. I suppose the timing of things made my inclination to be bothered by such petty behavior stronger than usual. But I promise, the next two weeks are all yours, ma cher.”

He pressed a lingering kiss to the bend of her neck and shoulder and then a smaller one further up on her jugular.

“I’ve neglected you something awful, haven’t I?” he said quietly.

Mina pulled his arm down from the edge of the tub and snuggled lower as she wrapped his limbs around her.

“I haven’t felt . . . neglected,” she said, though it was a little bit of a white lie. “I’ve just been worried about you. And I thought that, maybe, there was a chance you had forgotten what time of year it was.”

“Oh, I could never do that,” he said with a quiet laugh. “Not for the last 30 years, my dear. Your presence makes that impossible to ignore. It’s quite a nuisance.”

“Well, if I’m such a bother, I could use my time off from work for a personal vacation then,” she said, pretending to be offended. “Leave you alone so you can be less distracted.”

She tried to take her mock display of anger further by sitting up as if she were going to get out of the tub, but Alastor wrapped his arms tighter around her naked torso, forcing her quickly back down to him.

“You,” he said with a dangerous tone, “are not going anywhere. Not for several days.”

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, my love,” she replied, “but I do have one quick errand to run in the morning.”

An odd hissing noise came from the corner of the bathroom where his shadow had been lounging and Mina suppressed the urge to tell it to hush up. 

“I’m just getting some books; it’ll just be an hour at most. I think you can manage that. I’m going to have to have something to do besides you while we’re locked up here together,” she teased.

“If you’re not too exhausted,” he replied, his voice still dark with annoyance, but the tension had left his body.

Mina settled herself as well, leaning the back of her head against his shoulder and resting her eyes, and they enjoyed the rest of the evening in peace, both unaware that the morning would bring a permanent change to their eternal lives.

Next Chapter ->

Author's Note: This is the beginning of a sub-plot that I've been the most excited to share with you all! It's going to get DARK from here for the next few chapters, so please mind the TW's at the top. But there will be lots delicious, smutty, romantic of rewards to reap at the end.

@inuhalfdemon, @saccharine-nectarine, @whoknowswhoiamtoday

[mrslectermoriarty]

Headcanon Series #20

I need the Daggers to have a TikTok Account, hear me out!

Coyote: "Were the Daggers, of course we look amazing in our flight suits." He does a twirl and strikes a pose. Applause behind the camera.

Cut to Halo: "Were the Daggers, of course we managed to get good callsigns." In the background someone yells “Fuck off, Egg White!”. Halo gives the camera a pointed look. “We definetly good the good call signs.”

Cut to Fanboy: "Were the Daggers, of course our CO is the Navy's greatest pilot." He holds up a picture of Maverick lying on the ground, he stumbled over his open shoelaces. “But seriously. He is.”

Cut to Fritz: "We're the Daggers, of course we've been at least once at Top Gun." The camera zooms out, so we can see the base he’s standing in front of. He does a thumbs up. “Crazy place!”

Cut to Hangman: "We’re the Daggers, of course we're the best of the best." Rooster in the background gives him the finger. Hangman doesn’t see it. Chuckling behind the camera. “What’s so funny?”

Cut to Phoenix: "We're the Daggers, of course we blackmail each other with embarassing photos." Bob is sitting in the background. He looks up into the camera and gives it a serious nod.

Cut to Omaha: "We're the Daggers, of course we look back at our academy days in shame." Fritz walks by and grimaces.

Cut to Payback, in a bar: "We're the Daggers, of course we loose a shit ton of money to each other when we play pool at the hard deck. Well, some of us." He smirks. Groaning behind the camera.

Cut to Bob: "We're the Daggers, of course we have a group chat." His phone lights up and he shows the screen to the camera. We see a group chat that gets new messages every couple seconds. “Guys? You know we’re all on the same base right now? We can actually talk to each other.”

Cut to Yale, it’s night by now and he’s standing in front of a dimly lit house in otherwise darkness. There’s whispering in the background. "We're the Daggers, of course we continue the tradition of raiding the CO's liquor stack."

Cut to Harvard, inside of a house. Looks like a living room. Everyone is standing in the middle of the room and shouting; it’s loud. Harvard looks bewildered. "We're the Daggers, of course our CO is married to an Admiral and didn't tell us about it. He also didn't tell us about one of us being his legal child." Cut to the zoomed in background where we can see a blurry figure standing in a corner with a glass in its hand. Cut to Harvard, now in selfie mode and close to his face. He whispers: “That’s the fucking COMPACFLT.”

Cut to Rooster in the same living room. He has a small, awkward smile on his face while Phoenix stands a bit behind him and looks pissed. "We're the Daggers, of course it never gets boring with us around, I guess." Hangman sneaks into the frame, kisses Rooster and runs away, yelling something like “it never does”. Rooster stands there, too stunned to speak. Behind the camera: “Wait, did he just-“

Cut to Maverick sitting in a comfortable looking armchair, elbows on his knees and a beer in his hands. He’s laughing into the camera and speaks with a soft voice: "They're my Daggers and of course they’re family." “No no no, you’re supposed to say- what, did you just call us family? Guys, Mav just called us his family!” Happy shouting erupts in the background and Maverick is being group-hugged by several aviators around him. The camera shakes and the video ends.

Beautiful inspiration, I must say…

[shadowgast-recs-weekly]

This week, we have eleven fics that feature Caleb, Essek, and at least one other person involved! Look behind the cut for some Shadowidomauk, some Blumenshadow, some Fjord/Essek/Caleb and more!

amongst the things left unforgiven by nonwal (63958, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

“In which a pair of scourgers shows up at Essek’s doorstep and saves him from himself.“ Slow-burn blumenshadow featuring heavy mistrust, mind games that aren’t mind games, and Caleb mostly in the background thinking he doesn’t deserve to be loved.

Reccer says: One of my all time faves. Nonwal’s gorgeous prose and characterization of these 4 is always top notch, but the dialogue?! The spy vs. spy mind games? The poetic descriptions of longing and grief? The visceral feeling of constant low-level panic punctuated by a full panic attack and maybe developing a crush on your current crush’s evil exes? The DIALOGUE (again)?!?! Absolutely stunning. Side note: chapter 4 features the best Jester dialogue I have ever read. The tag “openly declaring your mutual distrust can be a love language if you do it right” says so much and I love it.

Happily Ever Laughter by Settiai (1288, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: Veth’s alcoholism is brought up a few times but isn’t the focus.

Adorable Essek/Caleb/Veth/Yeza slice of life fic. Polyamory is not nearly as difficult as trying to teach a hyperactive 6 year old magic can be.

Reccer says: Incredibly sweet little domestic fic. The rapport between them is so soft and gentle and well-worn like the most comfortable pair of old house slippers. The moments where Yeza and Caleb glance at each other and manage to communicate in absolute silence (in that pseudo-telepathic way that some real parenting couples often do) are just so perfect, and Veth still finding Essek somewhat aggravating even while she loves him is :chefskiss: delightful.

Three’s Company by flammablehat (2074, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Caleb, Essek, and Fjord have a threesome, and Essek is maybe more than a little jealous about it.

Reccer says: Possessek is always a favorite! Fjord is fjeisty, and Caleb is having the time of his life. It’s both hot and tense.

altogether, infinite possibilities by ivelostmyspectacles (199305, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek has barely begun to cement his place in Caleb’s life when they bring Mollymauk Tealeaf back from the dead. Slowly, the three of them adapt together.

Reccer says: First part of a series! This was my entry point into Shadowgast!

in the pieces of what's left or what we've found by SeaWitchDreams (14620, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Astrid takes some time to figure out how she wants to rebuild her life (and who she wants to rebuild it with.)

Reccer says: a wonderfully subtle and contemplative character study, featuring four wizards carefully dancing around each other

the sea, the stars, the dreamers by nonwal (111996, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: suicidal ideation

Essek sacrifices his budding relationship with Caleb to marry Archmage Astrid Beck - for the good of the entire galaxy. But whatever Astrid's reason for marrying him is, is not nearly as noble.

Reccer says: This fic takes an unusual premise (Blumenshadow arranged marriage spaceship murder mystery with sea shanties?) and *commits* to it. Still incomplete, but if you've liked this author's other works, you won't regret taking a chance on this one.

(Oh,) How a Human Burns by witches_chant (18318, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

This is a story about Essek trying to prepare for eventual loss, depending on if Caleb wants to use the Clone spell or not. But it’s also a story about a lazy, sexy vacation on Rumblecusp where the couple stumble upon a service top and learn things about their relationship (with a happy ending!).

Reccer says: It’s both hot as hell AND feelsy! It’s a really interesting take on Caleb & Essek’s relationship. Honestly I recommend the entire series.

Victim of Convenience by se1ze (54243, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek and Caleb are together, Essek and Kingsley get together, and Kingsley is losing his mind because Caleb can’t get his shit together. An exploration of the very complicated feelings that crop up when a) no one seems to understand who you are, and b) someone you love thinks they need to stay gone for your own good.

Reccer says: The dialogue is fantastic, the sex is wonderful, and the hurt/comfort is amazing. It establishes the foundation upon which Essek/Kingsley can be a thing in a way that is both endearing and completely believable. Caleb is oblivious to how much Kingsley loves him, and once again hurts those around him by throwing himself on his sword.

(nothing in my bones can say) just where you’ve been by SaltCore (8216, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

It takes more time than Caleb realized to get home from the Hellcatch Valley, and in his absence, Essek’s tentative alliance with Astrid and Eadwulf has grown to something more.

Reccer says: Soft and complicated and briefly heartbreaking. The way it manages to feel like an outsider POV reinforces the sense of missing time, of having missed a massive change, and the softness and warmth of everyone’s love for each other is palpable throughout even in the most tense and anxious of moments.

i'll meet judgement by the hounds by necromanticomedy (yelenavasilyevna) (6553, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: Dubcon/Consensual Non Consent, knifeplay

Astrid and Eadwulf come to a dinner party to meet Essek Thelyss. Things either go very poorly or very well, depending on your definitions.

Reccer says: the author called it a "insane psychosexual foursome" but neglected to mention that it's the best insane psychosexual foursome you'll ever read

To The Bone by thetickingclock (2919, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Snapshots of Astrid and Eadwulf's opinion of Essek changing over time (and proximity to Caleb Widogast.)

Reccer says: Hits all my favorite notes when it comes to Blumenshadow, and there's an astounding amount of characterization and relationship development packed into less than 3k words.

Aeor is for Lovers is an 18+ Shadowgast Discord server. The above fanfic recommendations were pulled from our community for this weekly event. All fics, unless otherwise specified, will primarily feature Shadowgast. Have any questions about what this is? Check out the FAQ! Next week, we’ll be back with Lifespan Angst!

[604to647]

Safest with You (Ch. 18 - The Threat)

4.8k / Modern AU Retired Mob Enforcer!Din Djarin x fem!reader

Summary: Peace between the Clans after the wedding is short lived.

Warnings: 18+ Content (MDNI please). Established relationship, petnames (pretty bird, baby, etc.), one (1) daddy, two (2) spanks, unprotected PiV, oral (m receiving, reference to f receiving), a teeny bit of ass play and a wee smidge of choking. Angst - it's back, baby!

A/N: This takes place after The Wedding (but it's not necessary to read). I need to write the next few chapters together, so it might take me a beat to post Ch. 19 but I will try my best 🥰 as always, thank you for reading!

Series Masterlist

Dividers by @saradika-graphics 🥰

Din had never experienced the old saying “the calm before the storm” before.  He had heard of it, of course, but in his experience, there was ever only the build up to the storm or the storm itself.

In retrospect, “the calm” was exactly what the last few weeks had been.

The weeks leading up to Cassandra and Rikard Pyke’s wedding had been tense.  Security concerns increased in light of the unrest that had been rising in intensity and frequency for the months prior, complicating already intricate and complex security logistics necessitated by the union itself.  It gnaws at Din to no end that he and Paz haven’t been able to identify the culprit orchestrating all the previously thought unrelated disturbances; he’s at least glad the theory that the incidents were random has been abandoned and that even Boba agreed there had to be a common thread between all the events. 

Happily, the wedding had gone off without any major incident; the happy couple had married and celebrated joyously with both Families.  No blood had been spilt, and one could even declare that the relationship between the Fetts and Pykes has never been better.  There had been that minor scuffle at the end of the evening; Din hated worrying you unnecessarily even more than he hated lying to you, so he had told you a half truth when he said it was just a few kids who drank too much.  It was a half truth in that only half of the drunk kids in question were wedding guests - the other two had been Hutt wedding crashers.  For whatever reason, two lower level Hutt foot soldiers had decided to check out the wedding venue after most of the guests had wound down their celebrations and a few of the younger Pyke cousins had taken offense.

It had been easy enough to break up and smooth over, sending the kids to their proverbial corners - that part he hadn’t downplayed.  And since then, it’s been… quiet.

No more skirmishes.  No vandalism.  No theft.  Nothing. 

It’s as if whoever was responsible went on vacation or decided that whatever they were trying to accomplish in the first place wasn’t worth it.

At first, it had been much too suspicious to be trusted.  The Mandos remaining on high alert even when nothing out of the ordinary was being reported.  Then slowly, things started going back to normal.  Late night patrols taper off and security surveillance whittle down to a minimum.  Jimmy returns to training with Karga full-time.  Din’s schedule regulates and to make up for lost time, he takes you out to dinner nearly every night, chipping away at the long accumulated list of restaurants you want to try.  Mayfeld goes back to doing whatever Mayfeld does.

It was the calm.

Din’s humming to himself as he folds towels - checking the clock, he’s glad to see he’s about half an hour or so away from Greef coming in for the late shift, at which time he can go back upstairs to spend the rest of his Saturday night with you.  The two of you had spent a lovely morning at the same farmers’ market he had taken you to on your second date, and much of the day had been spent recreating a similar afternoon – him working while periodically popping upstairs to visit you and Al, helping you with the lasagna.  The only notable difference was that instead of letting you nap, he had made you come on his tongue twice before heading back downstairs to oversee the lazy Saturday gym crowd.

Otherwise, history was repeating itself delightfully even now with Paz coming by after his workout to check in with Din.

“Hey brother,” Paz clasps his hand on Din’s shoulder before the two men embrace, “good day?”

“Yep,” nods Din, good naturedly, “you?”

Paz’s face slips into an unserious grimace, “Was going pretty good, but just got the call to check in with the boss, so like Rhianna says: work, work, work, work, work.  You wanna come with?”

Din shakes his head, “Nah, I’m retired again, remember?  Besides, I’ve got lasagna.”

“Ooo!  Lil’ Lady made lasagna?  Save me a slice, brother!  Wait… unless ‘lasagna’ is code for some weird sex thing?  Then please don’t think of me, thanks.”

Din whips a towel at Paz’s head as the latter heads out the gym, the back of his shoulders shaking with laughter.

---

Satisfied.  That’s the word Din thinks best describes how he feels in this very moment.  His stomach is full of wine and lasagna, and he currently has his delectable dessert straddling his lap with her tongue down his throat.  When you lift yourself up to press down on Din’s mouth with your plush lips, your core grinds a little on the top of his now soft again belly and you both let out a heady groan at the sensation.  Din suspects that after the bout with Rotta Hutt, you had made it your personal mission to reinstate his softer stomach, and he happily acquiesced - eating second helpings of all your delicious cooking that seemed to constantly fill your and his apartments with mouthwatering aromas.

Brushing your tongue over Din’s, your hands go to card his soft curls through your fingers when you feel his meaty hands slide down your sides until they come to a rest on your ass, cupping your cheeks and palming them lightly while you whimper into his mouth. 

“Feel good, pretty bird?”

“Mmmhhmmmm, feels so good, Din,” you murmur as you kiss across Din’s jaw and trail your lips down his neck, tongue darting out to lick his bobbing Adam’s apple.  You feel Din’s hands tighten and squeeze hard at the feeling, and it makes you giggle - you give your butt a little wiggle and dance around in his lap as a response.

Smack.

You yelp and then immediately moan from the spank Din administers to your behind.  Din chuckles throatily and lands another hard smack to the other cheek, watching your ass ripple as he growls in your ear, “Gonna be a good girl, baby?”

You pull back so Din can see the pouty, doe-eyed expression you’re giving him, “What do you mean, daddy?”

Din’s eyes darken, “Are you gonna be a good girl, or are you gonna be a br-”

Bzzzzzzzzzz. Bzzzzzzzzzz.

Din’s phone buzzes with an incoming text.  Then another.  And another.  It continues to vibrate, even as you reach over to the coffee table to grab it for him.

Brow furrowed, Din looks at the notifications on his locked screen and sees texts from Paz, Mayfeld, Woves, Bo, Iggy with more coming in every few seconds from other Mandos.  Each text containing just one line:

This is the Way.

Din’s face hardens and his body tenses, he sits up straight and you have to lace your fingers around his neck so you don’t slide off his lap.  The words themselves are innocuous, chosen to sound authoritative and purposefully vague and mysterious; but the text protocol being executed is deliberate and meaningful, one that Din himself implemented years ago.  It was a code red and a check-in system rolled into one.  It meant he had to go.

He gives you with an apologetic look but he finds you already watching him with an expression full of softness and understanding, “You have to go?”

Nodding, Din closes his eyes and pulls you tight against his chest, tucking your head into your favourite nook under his chin before murmuring, “I have to go.”  You hug him back just as tightly and tell your man you love him.  Tipping your head back, you eagerly accept one last tender kiss before Din gently pulls you off his lap.

As Din sends off his own text (This is the Way.), you grab a jacket for him and see him to the door, eyes worried, “Be careful, Din.”

“Always, pretty bird.  I love you.”  And then he’s off - hurrying down the stairs, taking two at a time.

---

Entering inconspicuously through the back entrance of an office building that acted as a Fett safe house, Din greets the Mandos that beat him here in the open lounge area.  Some are nursing drinks, others seemingly just waiting around.  Everyone looks to be on high alert.  Still not knowing what the alert was for, Din doesn’t ask – he would rather get the debrief straight from Paz, but he doesn’t see the Fett head of security in the room.  Koska gives him a little nod when she spots him and tilts her head towards the boardroom, mouthing, “They’re waiting for you.” Who exactly they are, still unknown to Din even as he pushes open the thick oak door. 

Paz is inside, as are Bo and Brian.  There are no other Mandos.  Everyone is sitting around the long conference table except for Paz and Fennec, both of whom stand flanking Boba’s seat at the head of the long table.  Many of the chairs are already filled by Fett Family seniors and principals and in front of every seat, even the empty ones, is a brown manila envelope.  Din sees that those already sitting have opened theirs, but the contents are unknown to him – either stuffed back into their envelopes or placed face down on the table.  As he walks towards Paz, Din notices that all the envelopes have names written on them; the handwriting is unfamiliar, but he recognizes the names of some other clan members that haven’t arrived yet.  It’s not until he’s nearly at the end of the room that he looks at the envelope in front of the empty seat to Boba’s right and reads his own name.

Cocking an eyebrow at Paz, he’s mildly alarmed to see Paz’s expression.  Normally so impassive and stoic while conducting official security business, Paz looks… nervous.  Din looks quizzically at his envelope, then at Paz, Boba and Fennec; Boba gives a slight nod of his head and Din doesn’t even bother sitting down, just reaches over the chair to grab his envelope, ripping it open.

Din reaches in and pulls out a thick stack of photos.  He goes through them, faster and faster, the top photo being filed to the back so he can see what the next picture is, his actions becoming more frantic and hurried with each photo.

“What the fuck is this?!” he roars.

You.  Every picture is of you.  You stepping off the subway.  You eating a sandwich outside your office.  You having brunch with your friends.  You walking the dog.  You’re wearing so many different outfits in the photos, they must have been taken over several days.  Weeks even.  Din thinks he’s going to be sick - someone has been watching you for weeks.

Since no one has answered, Din thunders again, “What the fuck is this?!” Several of the people sitting, bristle.  Paz looks defeated.  The epiphany that what Paz had been nervous for was Din’s reaction hits suddenly, “Paz, did you know what was in this envelope?!”

Boba, ever calm, but radiating an undercurrent of fury, suggests, “Paz, why don’t you catch Din up in private?  Please rejoin us when you’re ready.”

Paz gestures to a side door and Din follows, still clutching his envelope and the pictures of you.  He waits for the door to the smaller, empty room to close behind him before he goes in on Paz, “Brother, what the hell is going on??”

Paz sighs, “First, I owe you an apology.  You’re right - I knew what was in the envelope.  Actually, I didn’t know, but I had a really good idea.  It didn’t give me any pleasure to see you ambushed like that, brother.”

Din nods, waiting for more.

“A box of envelopes was left outside Peli’s doorstep this morning with a note on top that just said ‘For Boba Fett’.  We checked her cameras and asked around, but there was nothing usable – whoever left the box knew where all the cameras were, where the blind spots are, and they dropped it off at 5 a.m. when there was no one around.”  Paz sighs heavily before continuing.

“Peli called it in and after the box and its contents were cleared, Boba went through it in the late afternoon – he himself got an enveloped filled with pictures of Poe, Lisa and their kids.  Everyone who received an envelope got called in – there are at least 25.  All the envelopes so far contain pictures of loved ones: spouses, partners, family, kids.  All the photos recent.  Bo and Brian’s envelopes contained pictures of their girlfriends.  That’s how I was fairly sure yours had the Lil’ Lady in it.”

Din wordlessly hands over the pictures of you and Paz takes the stack, going through it with a pained expression on his face, “Recent?”

Din nods, “Who the hell did this?  What do they want?  Was there anything else in the box?  What is the fucking point of these photos?!”  Din thinks his brain is going to explode.

Paz shakes his head, “We don’t know.  That’s what we have to find out.”

“But it’s a threat.”

“Yeah.  It feels like a threat.”

Din presses the heels of his hands to his eyes.  His heart and head are pounding, a million thoughts racing through his mind.  Are you safe right now?  He shouldn’t have left you.  No, you’re at Mando’s – there’s nowhere safer.  Had you noticed anyone following you these last couple of weeks?  No, you would have told him.  That means whoever did this was a professional.  And they must have a team, if they were able to take pictures of so many targets over the past few weeks.  Targets.  Fuck.  You were a target.  A voice that Din hasn’t heard in months practically screams in his head: Because of you!! 

His rage and fear suddenly trampled by a new emotion: guilt. 

Beaten, Din looks up at Paz, his voice breaking, “This is why.  This is why… she shouldn’t be with me.  This is what I was always afraid of.  That being with me would put her in danger.  That I would put her in danger.  She’s being threatened because of me.”

Din hangs his head, that old insecurity over bringing you into his life, or rather his life into yours, resurfacing after all these months - ready to tear down the life that he and you had started building together.  How could he have done this to you?  You don’t deserve it.

Paz lays a firm and what he hopes is a reassuring hand on his best friend’s shoulder, “We’ll get who ever did this.  And we’ll keep her safe.  We’ll keep them all safe.”

Din nods, swallowing hard, but unable to peel his thoughts away from images of you.  You in the pictures.  You when he left you tonight.  You smiling at him.  Trusting him.  And then before he could stop it from creeping into his mind, a terrifying vision of you, limp in his arms, hurt.  He closes his eyes and wills himself to breathe, “She has to be safe.”

He follows Paz back into the main boardroom - ready to formulate a plan, to figure out the next steps, to do whatever it takes to bring down whoever was responsible for this transgression against the Family.  Din forces his face to wear the steely visage familiar to those in the room who know him as Boba Fett’s most fearsome enforcer, doing his best to ignore that nagging voice in his head that periodically interjects, “You know what you have to do.”

---

Something has happened tonight.  You can tell.  When you hear Din’s footsteps trudging up the stairs, it’s almost 11 p.m.  He had texted you earlier letting you know he was going to be late, but implored you to save taking Al back until he came home.  You didn’t know about the way his chest tightened when you wrote back to tell him you and Al had gone out and come back already.  As Din gets closer to the top floor, you think you can hear a weariness in those steps, as if he’s shouldering an additional weight.  Meeting him at the door, your heart cracks when you see the furrow of Din’s brow and the exhaustion in his eyes.  Something has happened tonight.

Wordlessly taking Din’s things from him and guiding him to the couch, you straddle Din’s lap and lightly trace his face with your fingers, as if trying to wipe away his worry.  His eyes are closed, his breathing even, but barely controlled.  On more than one occasion, Din has marveled at your talent for being able to soothe and calm him, often with a single touch.  But not tonight.  Tonight, no matter how much you may try, his muscles will not relax, his fists will not unclench, and the tension he carries in his shoulders will not dissipate.

You curl yourself against his hard chest, resting your head on his tightened shoulder and whisper, “Din?  Do you need to use me?  Work out some of this stress?”  Taking his clenched fist, you gently pry open his hand and lay it flat against your own chest, holding it close to your heart.

Din breathes out shakily and opens his eyes to see you looking up at him, wide-eyed with love and concern.   Fuck.  He loves you so much.  And he needs you.  You always know what he needs. 

But he can’t. 

He can’t get the image of the you in those pictures out of his mind – so innocent and unassuming; the idea that someone was looking that same you but with the intention of scaring or hurting you has Din wound up so tight, he’s afraid he might snap at any minute.  Regretfully, he chokes out, “Can’t, pretty bird.  Not this time.  This time… the way I’m feeling right now... I- I might hurt you.  I don’t want to hurt you.”

You can see how hard Din’s struggling and you want to cry for him.  Cupping his rough, tired face in your dainty hands, you kiss him softly and nod, not wanting to add to his burden.

“I think I need to go work it out in the gym, baby.  Take it out on some bags.  Then maybe catch-up on some work.  I’m still behind on paperwork for the gym because of the other stuff that was going on before,” Din sighs.

“If you want, I can take on some of the admin, like tax forms and stuff.  You know I’m good at that,” you offer, wanting to be at least some help.

Against all odds, Din smiles.  How do you do that? “That would be wonderful, sweetheart.  Thank you.”

You relax into his chest, but when Din’s hold on your waist remains tight and his breathing stays sharp, you climb off his lap and prod him gently, “Don’t be too long, baby,” letting your hand linger on his cheek for a moment longer before going to get ready for bed.

---

When you wake in the middle of the night, it’s just past 1:30 a.m. and you’re alone in bed.  Sitting up, you listen for Din but the apartment is silent except for Al’s soft snores.  Where’s Din?  You throw on a long cardigan over your lace trimmed sleep set and grab your keys, padding downstairs.  Opening the door to Mando’s second-floor landing, you hear the thump thump thump of gloves hitting a bag.  Quietly, you walk across the walkway and down the opposing side stairs, coming upon where Din’s working a hanging punching bag.  His shoulders are up, his back muscles tense and glistening with sweat; his gloved fists flying at the bag in consistent intervals, over and over and over, with a force that sends the bag nearly swinging each time.

You don’t know how long Din’s been at this, but judging from his laboured breathing and the beads of perspiration that have rolled down his back, dampening the waistband of his sweatpants, you’re guessing it’s a while.  You can feel his exhaustion rolling off his body in waves from where you stand.  Din’s so hyper focused, you don’t think he’ll even hear you if you call his name, and for a moment, you’re not sure how you’ll get his attention without needlessly startling him; but Din solves the problem for you when you see him pause in his attack, holding the bag still with his gloves and resting this forehead against the leather, breathing tired and shallow.

“Din?” you call out delicately, you’re close enough to him now that you can see the fatigue that lines his face.  It takes you a moment to put a name to the look he gives you, but when you do, your heart nearly shatters.  It’s defeat.  Din’s looking at you, but his eyes are far away, downcast and weary.  His frame, held so tight and tense, droops and deflates as he takes in your figure walking gingerly towards him, as if all the agitation and aggression that he’s been trying to work out over the past few hours simply floats out of his body, along with all his power and determination.  Your big strong man is broken and you don’t know why.

Bringing your hand to his cheek, you exhale with relief when you feel Din lean into your soft touch, eyes closing and face somewhat relaxing; he’s still here, your Din.  Silently, you take his gloved hand with your free one and lead him to the boxing ring.  Using the little stairs tucked into front right corner, you walk up to the raised platform and duck under the ropes to stand in the ring, holding your hand out to Din, beckoning him to join you.  As if in a trance, Din heeds your unspoken request; removing his gloves before meeting you in the middle of the ring, still looking at you with an expression that further breaks your heart – one of failure, resignation.  Holding his face in your hands, you bring it down to yours and press your lips to Din’s – tenderly, warily, so not to spook him.  When Din’s eyes close and you feel him melt against your mouth, you trail your lips to the other parts of him that need your attention. 

Din keeps his eyes closed and uses his remaining energy to mentally track the path of kisses that you lay across his jaw and down his throat.  You dot kisses along his collar bones and over the expanse of his wide chest; flitting out your tongue to taste the saltiness of the sweat that still clings to his hard pecs and his solid midsection.  You squeeze each arm and massage gentle circles over his muscles with your skilled fingers, working down from his flexed biceps to the raised veins of his forearms and ending at his still wrapped hands that you raise to your lips, delicately nipping at his exposed fingertips.  Din revels in your soft fairy-like touch and the heaven of your soft lips against his rough skin.

He opens his eyes only when he feels you slide his sweatpants down past his hips, eyes coming into focus to you see you on your knees before him, cardigan shrugged off to reveal barely there sleepwear that matches the sultry gaze that peers up at him.  Wordlessly, you take him in your mouth.

Hearing Din hiss above you, you work his length gently in your soft mouth, feeling him harden under the efforts of your lips and tongue.  When you feel both his hands come to a gentle resting grip in your hair, you flash a doe-eyed look at him, trying to gauge from his expression what he needs.  What you find is Din, eyes closed and mouth slack – tension and pressure finally evaporated from his body, his face burden free; you hum in pride and vow to suck, lick and tease every last remaining drop of agitation from him.  Rhythmically bobbing your head over Din’s cock, you let him hit the back of your throat repeatedly as you gently fondle his balls with your small hands until you feel them tighten and you hear Din’s heaving breaths above you.  Pulling off of his perfect dick, you see a flash of surprise in Din’s eyes as they snap open; you make sure he’s watching as you dip your hand down your sleep shorts and start to rub your clit through your already drenched panties.

When you see a dark hunger replace the look of surprise on Din’s face, you use your free hand to pull on his wrist so he’ll join you down on the mat.  Mouth latching to yours open mouthed, needy, violent, Din allows you to maneuver his strong frame easily so that he lays beneath you; you shimmy out of your shorts and panties before straddling him, hovering over his already weeping cock.  Normally both so vocal during sex, no words are exchanged between you and Din tonight.  Every question and want expressed only through looks and touch - communicating heart to heart, mind to mind.  When Din removes your top, you realize it’s the first time he’s really touching your body since you came downstairs - his touch is desperate, gripping, tortured.  You let him grab and grope your breasts, waist, stomach, arms, hips and thighs with a fervent need, as if he needs to prove, convince himself that you’re all there. 

Notching him at your entrance, you feel Din’s hand snake up the valley of your breasts and come to a rest around your neck.  Lolling your head back to give him more access, you follow the direction of his firm grip and sink down on Din’s dick; your movements guided by the pressure that Din puts on your neck, letting him pull you down until you’re fully sheathed on his throbbing cock.  Keeping pace with the flex of Din’s fingers on your throat, you bounce – ignoring the sting of pain from having taken him with no prep; no matter – your overstretch walls soon flooded with arousal as your movements quicken and your breaths sharpen, dizzy from your airway being constricted.

Eyes rolling to the back of your head, you ride Din with abandon – there's no dirty talk, praise or degradation tonight, the only sounds echoing off the walls of the empty gym are the urgent slapping of skin on skin and Din’s loud animalistic moans and grunts.  For Din, this is primal, physical, making sure you’re real and that he can touch you, hold you – you’re here, within his grasp.  Safe.

Keeping one hand on your neck, as if tethering you to him via your airway, your lifeline, Din is hypnotized by the sight of you on top of him – pretty tits bouncing, pert and perky.  You’re beautiful.  Perfect.  That you give yourself over to him so readily when you already give him so much fills him to the brim with emotion: you trust him with your heart, your body, your life.  He inches a finger towards the tight ring of your ass, pressing in past the initial resistance and feels your pussy flutter around his cock once he slips in.  Always so willing to take.  Because you trust him.  Love him.

Fuck, he loves you more.

Crying out as you come, you clench down hard on Din’s cock but don’t stop moving, determined to fuck yourself through it; Din follows shortly after, spilling himself to the look of euphoria on your face.

No words are exchanged as you gather your things and lead Din upstairs after turning off the lights in the gym.  And still none when you guide him into the hot shower, washing his tired body under the spray of the water steaming up the bathroom.  Din is barely awake – eyes shut as he lets you wash his hair, only partially registering the soft touch of your fingers against his scalp.  Melting into your sweet kisses to his lips, chest and back, he slips further towards dreamland.

Silent even as you dry him and dress him in a pair of clean pajamas, Din, exhausted from the physical exertion of trying to punch out his frustrations and the mental load of what he learned today, completely dissociates from everything except the warmth of your presence.

Only once he’s laid down on his side of his bed, head already sinking into his pillow and lips tingling from your goodnight kiss does Din speak, “I love you so much, pretty bird.  How will I ever live without you?”

All you can do is smile when you see your hulk of a man finally relaxed enough to drift off towards sleep.  You’re so relieved to have managed to put him to bed that you don’t notice he isn’t utilizing the hypothetical.

Not ‘How would I ever live without you?’ but will.

[be-my-ally]

The Seatbelt Sign is On

A Big Bunny Vignette.

Bunny wants to get tied up, so uh, here we are. Playboy!Reader x 76/77 Elvis - this little plot-less smutty fic is set between The Lisa-Marie & Crash Landing. Although I think it could be read as a standalone. This is pretty much totally unedited, so apologies for any typos.

warnings: 18+ 18+ 18+. Light bondage. No safewords or anything but it is clearly pretty ssc**. Oral, and penetrative sex (p in v), slight overstimulation. 

75-77 elvis x playboybunny!reader (established relationship - here's the link for the rest of the series)

wc: 4.2k (miss concise smut is back baby!!)

** ((Spoiler: Elvis does say he has scissors in case she needs to be cut out - but he’s pretty much just holding her down with some ribbon and a seatbelt.))

Elvis often climbed up the stairs with his last burst of energy post-show - happy to collapse and settle in or onto the nearest chair, sometimes not even making it to his bed, taking in the precious hours of rest before the next stop. It meant that even though you were spending a serious number of hours with Elvis, it didn’t leave a whole lot of time that he was lucid or awake enough to actually spend it with you. 

You’d worried it was you, to start with, but you’d heard the guys whispering about him lately. About his lack of interest in the girls he flew out to meet him, or the ones waiting back home for him. You’d watched Sam looking you up and down a little smugly in the middle of the conversation as if saying without a word that there was a lack of interest in you too. The rumours that he couldn’t get it up at the moment followed raucous retellings of salacious events from years before that you were sure were heavily embellished if they’d even happened at all.  But, despite what they would gossip about, you never would describe Elvis as lacking in some way, and certainly not out loud. Sure, he didn’t always (or even often) have the energy to be intimate with you but when he did he was as considerate and, usually, as fun as ever.

Sometimes though you couldn’t help but feel like it was just…a bit bland. You still blush when you think about those first few flights on Big Bunny, meeting him in next to nothing for that rehearsal. Nothing has really come close in a long time. He certainly wasn’t behaving in the same way, and you felt a little like maybe you had become too comfortable together, or like a married couple or something. A distinct lack of excitement together. 

The issue, you thought while brainstorming ways of keeping it interesting, was that despite how brash and forward Elvis could be, he ultimately became quite shy and almost too respectful towards you while you were alone. You knew enough about how his brain worked to know that part of the appeal of the opposite sex was, for him, the perceived softness and ability to at least perform an act of gentle innocence. He could be brazen and arrogant while ordering you to dance for him, to roll his latest dirty film acquisition, yet when he had you alone he’d be almost apologetic, gentle. You didn’t want him to be mean to you, but maybe a little less of the…desperation. If he could just take a little more control again. 

It was at the end of a run of shows, Elvis tired but with it, when the answer came to you. He’d been carefully kissing the inside of your thighs, where you lay, still fully dressed on the bed of the Lisa-Marie when you’d moved your hands onto his head in an attempt to impatiently guide him. He’d tutted at you, immediately pulling away from your fingertips trying to bury themselves into his longer hair. 

“No, no, no, keep your hands outta the way, baby, gotta let me work.” He returned, but a kiss to a sensitive crease sent your leg knocking into his shoulder. It’s been a while. You can feel his grin even as he pulls away again to look up his lashes at you. 

“I told you you gotta stay still, I need my hands for this, can’t be holdin’ you down.” You’re not sure the noise that came out of your mouth could be heard by anything but dogs but he laughs, shaking his head, “What m’I gonna do with you?” You wiggle a little, and there’s a clunk of metal hitting the floor. You both turn to look, and your wide eyes meet his calculating ones. 

“You can. You know, if you want.” He stares at the seatbelt now trailing on the floor for a moment longer before responding, turning bashful; 

“Uh, well, I don’t know. I wouldn’t wanna pin you - I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable… I was really only jokin-“ He runs a hand through his hair, pushing it off of his forehead. 

“El- it’s ok, really, I think I’d like it.” 

“I didn’t, uh, I didn’t - do girls, do ya, do ya, uh, really like that kinda thing?” 

“Uh-huh, I think so, or well, maybe not every girl, but I like the sound of it, all tied up and ready for you, just having to take whatever you wanted to give me? Doesn’t that sound good to you too?” While you were talking you could see him looking at the belt, gently stroking your wrist as he considered the proposition, he swallows. You can tell he likes the idea. 

“You’d… you just, you’d just let me know if you want out right?” You laugh at his nervous questioning; 

“Lord Elvis, what’s running through that mind of yours to do to me that I’d want out?” He shrugs, glancing at the clock. 

“Well, not today, baby, gotta be ready for the show in an hour, ‘m gonna, gonna freshen’ up.” And with a pat to your side, he headed to the bathroom, leaving you there.

You realised you might have made an error in judgement bringing it up just then, just when he’d started to get going now you were left with your panties twisted to one side, skirt hitched, alone on the bed with the plane seemingly whizzing past any prospect of an orgasm today. 

——————————————————————

“We’re uh, going to Denver, you know, for the uh, burgers.” You pull the headset from your ear, as if blinking at it was staring at him and he would offer you more explanations.

“Oh, yeah… sure, ok.”

“Well, don’t ya wanna come too?” He sounds offended at your noncommittal response, but you don’t really. Truthfully, you still didn’t quite feel like you were rested from the tour yet and you knew it was only a matter of days before you’d be up all hours of the night and day and running ragged after him again. But, he made that dejected sort of hopeful hum that made you cringe at the mere thought of not agreeing to his plans. 

“Of course I do - I’ll uh, I’ll be there just as soon as I can.” It’s silent on the other end, and then, 

“We’re leavin’ now, so hurry.” Of course he was. 

It didn’t occur to you until much later that he didn’t want to go to Denver at all, and definitely not for the burgers - you’d heard Joe ringing from the comfort of Elvis’ fancy car-phone to make sure someone, presumably a pretty Miss Colorado of some sort, was home. Assuring them down the line that Elvis couldn’t come to the phone right now, but if they made sure they were at the airport he’d be there in a few hours for a flying visit. Somehow, you were able to listen to this - your legs nudging his, and his nudging Joe’s, without the slightest jealousy - just a mild sympathy for this girl desperate for the crumbs he was willing to lay. It would be much later that you would realise Denver had nothing to do with this girl either, that it was all an excuse for you. You’d realised there was some kind of ulterior motive to a lesser extent though as soon as you were, quite frankly,  shoved into the bedroom as soon as you had boarded. 

“Elvis! I’ve got a job to do!” He shakes his head, grinning at you and standing in the way of the door, 

“Nu-uh baby, I been thinking about what you said last time.” You didn’t expect that. 

“Oh?” 

“Yes ma’am, and you’re right.” You really didn’t expect that, 

“Oh! Well I can’t say I’m surpr-” You yelp as he pinches your side, 

“‘Nough of that, on the bed! I got ‘quipment.” You pause your stride towards the bed, looking at him grinning with his hands on his hips, it was all a bit sudden.

“Um, I didn’t, I mean, I’m not su-” He grins at you, 

“I thought you were Miss Confident?” He gets that sly look on his face, his eyes narrowing and crinkling in their corners, “You know… I’ve been readin’ up and I don’t know if I oughta be worried, liking this kind of thing is listed in the DSM you know…” You gulp, your stomach twisting a little, feeling a flush rise up from your chest to your cheeks. 

“Jesus El - I’m not the one with equipment! I just like a little…I’m an adult, and I know what I like and I think it’s unfair of you to say that kind of thing, especially when I know what you’ve been up to, and you know Hugh -  Elvis stop laughing at me!” 

“You’d have thought I was secretly sending you off to the nuthouse baby, the way you were carrying on then,” He manages to get the words out past his giggles, “ ‘s just a bit of ribbon, honey-bunny.” You both feel the rumble of the engine starting up, “C’mon we’re on a time limit.” 

“Well, if you’re - if you’re sure…” You bite your lip in nerves. 

“Where’d my conf’dent l’il bunny go huh? C’mon baby, ‘s no worries - you’ll like it .” 

“Are you - you know what you’re doing?” His mouth gapes a little, wide-eyed. 

“Of course!” He looks genuinely offended, for a second before grinning, “I got good at knots in the army don’t you worry.” He winks at you as he salutes, his feet knocking together and you giggle, your tension relieving itself.

“I’d be more reassured if you’d been in the navy.” He swats at you, 

“ ‘M better than any of them boys playin’ out on their little boats I tell ya, now hush and let me work here.”  Your breath catches again, “don’t worry darlin’ I saw this in a uh, blue movie, don’t ya worry, I know how you like it.” 

That did little to calm your nerves - his reassurance that he knew what he was doing too often led to some kind of mild disaster. “Well, ok, but - you’ve got, you’re prepared, right? You got some scissors or, something, haven’t you? In case you hafta get me out quick?” 

Elvis puts the bag back onto the bed, holding three fingers up - but his solemn face belies the comedy of the action; “I swear, swear to you, I’ll get you out if you want to be. Not gonna let anythin’ happen to my best bunny.” You look into his eyes pausing for a moment and nod, lying back on the bed. He situates himself between your legs, bending to place a feather-light kiss on the corner of your mouth, 

“Aren’t you gonna…?” You shake your wrists at him and he huffs a laugh, his breath fanning over you, 

“Gotta get you worked up first baby, ain’t no fun if you’re not ready to wriggle and jiggle around, is it? Now, hush,” He whispers against your skin, “let me work my magic.” 

He might not have been focussing his energy through his ‘healing hands’ this time, but you couldn’t deny he did have the magic touch, he barely had to brush his fingers over you, press a thigh against your side, and you were gone from the world, levitating above the bed, above the plane, into the sky above. You’re embarrassingly quick to turn on, making out with Elvis enough to make you squirm. After a minute or so he presses kisses against your clavicle, open-mouthed while his fingers fumble with opening the buttons that stretch from your neck to your thighs, almost immediately shoving his hands around the waistband of your tights and he tugs hard enough that there’s the tell-tale ripping sound of the nylon falling apart - if you’d been more conscious of it you would have rolled your eyes, somehow you never seem to be able to keep a pair for long around Elvis. As it was you were far too distracted to care, relieved simply to be divested of the fabric and you lift your hips to let him roll them off - throwing the destroyed fabric to the corner of the room. His hand supports your back as you lean forward, pulling your arms out of your dress, immediately wrapping them around his neck once you were free. 

He’s all-encompassing, someone else might find him smothering, the way his arms seem to be everywhere all at once, caging you against him. But you can’t get enough. Your underwear ends up somewhere, god knows where. You’re reminded again of that revelatory first time when he’s biting nibbling kisses across your chest, tiny pink bruises sucked onto your soft skin, Elvis’ hands pawing at you in that somehow hot clumsy way. He tweaks a nipple and your back arches to meet him, you don’t know when your eyes closed but you open them at the sudden loss of any sensation, 

Elvis is sat back on his heels, assessing you, rubbing your thighs firmly. He nods with satisfaction at whatever he sees, reaching up the bed for the ribbon and tugging your wrists towards him. He kisses your pulse, and you wonder if he can feel how it jumps. He tuts when the ribbon twists, wrapping it around several times and looping it over and under before finishing it off with his best attempt at a bow. You make eye contact with each other, and you open your mouth to tease him about it, but he stops you with a pointed finger, his eyes alight. 

“Don’t say a word.” You swallow your words, playfully snapping at his finger instead, and he laughs, holding your newly tied wrists above your head as he leans down to kiss you again. It’s somehow dirtier this time, whether because you just feel that way, or because he doesn’t take his time, biting your lip and pushing his tongue into you; forcefully mapping out your mouth. He works his way down, sucking a small, darker bruise on the underside of your left breast, you wonder if it was intentionally close to your heart. You tremble, wriggling against him and after a moment he evidently grows tired of pinning your wrists, his long arms not able to keep them pressed flat while he works down your body and he looks for a way to secure them better. 

“Well, I guess we didn’t think this through, honey, it’s not the right kind of headboard, so I s’pose you’ll just hafta keep ‘em there.” He presses your newly tied wrists against the pillows, fingertips brushing the velvet of the headboard and your back arches with the effort of keeping them there. His breath tickles when he returns to his place, and the air over the sticky wetness of your inner thighs makes your arms involuntarily attempt to come back down to hold him in place. Elvis tuts at you, leaning back.

“’S no good. You’re wriggling around too much.” He stands up, his hands on his hips to assess your predicament. He sits back down and peers down the side of the bed. “C’mere.” He hauls your body up and you wriggle up with him until you were high enough up the bed that your back was now supported by one of the cream-golden reading cushions and he was able to pull the seatbelt across your stomach.“Keep your hands there.” He pats them at the top, and you grip the top of the headboard as best you can. “Where was I?” 

You’ve lost all ability to speak, simply too turned on to comprehend what’s going on. There’s the barest hint of sweat beading above his eyebrow and glistening on his dark, longer, sideburns. Your hands twitch to cup his face and you whine in frustration, unable to reach where he kneels between your legs, your fingers clutching the dusty top of the headboard, desperate not to ruin the game. He grins, tongue running over his teeth, and you thump your head back against the hard cushion, 

“Elvis, c’mon.”

“I’m havin’ fun now, baby,” He sing-songs it delicately and you shiver, “Gonna get you so worked up.” His thick hands grasp your thighs, fingertips digging in, “C’mon, bunny, open up for me.” You have no idea if the growl that comes from his mouth was intentional, or if it just had the unintended side effect of your legs immediately spreading, your breath hitching. He leans in and you feel yourself tense, hairs pricking with the tension of the moment, desperately anticipating his next move. 

Elvis is clearly not unaffected by the sight of you - his breathing much harder than before and it tickles as he gently kisses your inner thigh, his pouty lips open. The very tip of his tongue ghosts across your skin, and you shudder at the sensation, aching for him. 

“Elvis you’ve gotta - you’ve gotta touch me.” 

“I am touching you.” His fingertips continue to dance, and you try to squirm a little, the seatbelt trapping you in place. 

“Nooo. Properly.” He chuckles, 

“Properly” He teases with a shake of his head and you whine again, 

“Ssh, shhh, I’mma take real good care of you, bunny, just relax baby,” He firmly rubs at your thighs, as if he wasn’t the reason you were squirming. You let your head roll back again, suddenly distracted as he teases you by the sight of yourself in the mirror at the end of the room, the dark mahogany of the wood-covered room and the dim light reflecting off of the creamy ceiling putting you into a soft-glow focus. You can barely see yourself beyond him, he takes up the majority of your view, and though the concept is hot to you, fully clothed as he was, it left little to look at - just your twitching tied wrists, above both of your bodies, really visible. 

Finally he’s kissing across your bare skin and you’d forgotten somehow, impossibly, in the time since you’d last been together like this, just how good he was at this. You’re already so sensitive, you can feel the cooling dampness in the air, and yet it still comes as a surprise at his first kitten licks how responsive you were to him. He presses one hand against your thigh, fingers leaving bruises from his tight grip, holding you totally open to him. Elvis leans back a little, grinning at your attempts to grind on nothing, and you might be ashamed at such a wanton display in the morning but right now you just need the pressure back. He spreads your slick folds with his flattened tongue, moving his fingers in to keep you spread open so that he can lick up to your clit, sucking on the little nub and sending you shuddering. 

Your legs are the only part of you able to move, and you wrap them around his, now thicker, waist holding him against you until the movement of his talented tongue and fingers make them kick out. For some reason, even though he wasn’t doing anything new, being secured down like this was making everything feel ten times more - like someone had turned your sensitivity up on a dial. He tongue-fucks into you, and it’s so hard to keep your hands where they are, writhing around as you were, desperate to hold him in place - gain better purchase to grind against his clever, talented tongue.

The singular focus he dedicates to this task always reminds you of that first time and having him so committed only adds to your enjoyment. Elvis renews his efforts, suckling like he needs you for oxygen, and the warm wet pressure builds until finally, you’re shuddering over the edge of orgasm, legs spasming and your back arching as much as it was able to do so - and the tension of the seatbelt across your body - pinning you down far more than you would usually be held, has you electrified, adding to your startling passion. You pant, trembling as he leans back, it’s scandalous how he smiles at you, catching his breath, lips glistening with your slick and you try to form words to tell him how earth-shattering that vision is, but you struggle from the sheer anticipation of watching him stand up. 

“El- Honestl-El, how’d you, it’s so good. You need, I need you -“

You cut yourself off, panting, as Elvis finally, finally, slips out of his lounge pants and jacket.  His tanned hairy chest unveiled itself, a perfect trail leading down to his hard cock, its pink head poking out, glossy with his precum. You shudder, and he grins at you wildly for a moment, before seemingly focussing on the task at hand, clambering back atop you. He mutters the same thing he always mutters as he presses himself into you, 

“Y’re good, y’re a good girl, bunny, swear it - y’re so, fuck, so tight.” It probably shouldn’t make your chest glow so much. He presses a hand on your stomach, just below where the seatbelt pins you to the bed - holding you in place for him to get himself situated. The firm pressure is almost enough to tip you over the cliff again. You realise you’re babbling, muttering pleas when Elvis kisses your sweaty cheek, hushing you. He jerks his hips once, twice, in time with your gasps before he growls, evidently incapable of getting the angle right and you suddenly feel yourself being tugged down the bed, hands leaving the headboard and seatbelt scraping your skin until you were lying mainly flat, mostly immobile.

“That’s it, that’s - that’s better - that good for you Bunny?” He doesn’t give you time to respond, laughing to himself, “ ‘course it is. You’re like one of them kids toys, what’re they called, those, those, slip n’, slip n’ slides. So fucking wet down here.” You nod frantically in agreement, stuttering out that you were fine, it was all good - but please, Elvis, please, just move. 

It’s a strange sensation, being unable to use yourself to get leverage, and it feels almost objectifying. Lying there just to be used, but you liked it, and Elvis took advantage, pulling and tugging to exactly the pace and angle he needed to chase his own pleasure. You plant your feet, when you manage to get purchase, able to use your thighs to your advantage a little. You can feel the edge rising, but before you get there Elvis stills, his mouth agape, sweat beading at his forehead and eyebrow, upper lip aglow with it, and you feel him pulsing. His hand comes down to stroke between your folds, as he slowly pulls out, and you shake your head - it was almost too much, but he hushes you, 

“Shh. Wanna see you go again, it’s only fair - ’n’t that the reason I got you all tied up like this.” You tremble, and he presses his thumb against you, it’s filthy, the viscous mix of your fluids. Elvis deftly rubs your clit, and your body shakes through the waves of orgasm until you squirm away from his fingers, completely overstimulated, 

“El- El, that’s that’s enough, I can’t - fuck, that’s too much - too much,” He laughs at you, stroking you a final time as your legs twitch. You lie there panting for a long while, and Elvis gets up before you do, cutting the ribbon off of you, not bothering to deal with the knots that had tightened as you struggled, and heading to grab a drink from the little dressing table alcove at the end of the room while you caught your breath.

The ribbon had done pretty well at keeping your hands together, he’d done them up tight enough that they’d laid fairly flat and untwisted, but still, when you rubbed your wrists there was a light mark and the hint of soreness, especially around the outside edge of your forearm. You unbuckle yourself, sitting upright slowly.

Clearly, there’s a reason people don’t usually use seatbelts like this. The rough edge of the nylon had rubbed you where you’d wriggled around, the lines criss-crossing, while the heavy weight of the gold buckle had left indents - several of which you were sure were going to bruise. You didn’t mind that so much, pressing a finger into the darkest of the marks. 

“Good Lord Elvis, I look like I’ve been whipped or something!” He glances back at you in the mirror where you’re now fully upright, brushing your fingers over the pink marks. He points a finger at your reflection, 

“No chance in goddamn hell. Nope. There’s not enough space - don’t you go gettin’ any ideas now, li’l girl. Absolutely fuckin’ no.” 

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