#heaven can't wait: part three | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lxkeee · 6 months

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TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN

-PART EIGHT

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Seraphim Angel! Fem! Reader

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Genre: Angst (for now)

Warnings: family trauma/lore

Notes: we love a family that bonds.

PART ONE | PART SEVEN | PART NINE | NAVIGATION

Xavier was worried, scared even. He's pacing back and forth in his room. Having second thoughts whether he'll go down to hell and look for his beloved mother or just wait for her here.

What he's afraid of is what'll happen if his mother sees his father. His father already caused so much emotional pain to her. Xavier cannot imagine what kind of heartbreaking pain she'll experience once she sees her husband.

Xavier looks outside his window, rays of setting sunlight peaks through the white curtains, giving his room an orange like glow. He runs his hand through his light blond locks in frustration. He can't wait a second longer to look for her.

Xavier wonders if his parents already met down there, the idea makes his blood boil.

The idea of his father suddenly back to their life makes his skin crawl. Xavier knows how much influence his father had on his mother's heart.

He sighs, a long exhale filled with tension and worry. It's already been a few hours now, what could she be possibly doing down there? He thought to himself.

With a small huff, he fixed his uniform. That's it, I'm going down there. He took a deep breath, snapped his fingers together and opened a portal that leads to hell.

He steps inside the portal, summoning his three pairs of wings so he can fly down. Xavier hopes that his mother is alright.

The portal closed and the angel who once stood inside his large magnificently large white room was no more.

Lucifer returned back to the palace, teleporting back to his bedroom. A sigh of relief escaping his lips as he saw that [Y/n] was still passed out asleep. His eyes softened, sitting at the corner of the bed, in the empty space beside her sleeping form.

He lets out a long exhale, a tired sigh. He gazed down at her sleeping and tired face, his heart ached. Clearly torn between two women. Lilith, his wife of many millennia and [Y/n], his first wife and the angel who stood by his side and supported him despite his neglect.

He regrets it, genuinely. He was young and stupid, he and [Y/n] got married when they were in their 200's. Romance wasn't common back then, nothing to learn from. The only love they were taught was loving heaven and its creator. Romantic love barely existed during those times as every angel was busy with their respective duties.

He loves [Y/n] genuinely and he was wrong for not upholding his vows to her.

He gently swept away some strands of falling hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. A small smile on his face once his eyes landed on his hand, devoid of any rings. He finally let go of his wedding ring, the one he used for Lilith. He didn't wear his wedding ring—the one he used for [Y/n]—as he feels like he doesn't deserve it.

Lucifer remembers that he didn't want to remove his first wedding ring with his first wife but Lilith insisted he should.

Lilith was envious, because after so many years he still wore it and led to some arguments.

He can't just forget about [Y/n], he doesn't have the heart to. Her heartbroken face is forever embedded into his memories, her empty and blank face as she stared at him and Lilith when they were banished.

A look in her face told him that she was tired, tired of waiting for him, tired of his second priority.

He should've been better, he should've treated her better. He should've been her perfect husband just like how she was his perfect wife.

His love for Lilith is slowly disappearing, ever since they've begun arguing. Their beliefs and ideals no longer match with one another.

He accidentally mentioned [Y/n]'s name during their heated arguments, which causes Lilith to be mad at him and eventually left, leaving divorce papers for him to sign on his desk.

He tried so hard to bury his love for [Y/n], he tried so hard to forget her as he knew he wouldn't see her again and most likely didn't want to see him either.

A single tear runs down his rosy red cheek, breath hitching. Emotions are finally spilling forth, his love and heart ache that he bottled up for so many eons finally erupting.

“So this is how it feels,” he sang softly, careful not to wake her up. His voice broke as he sang ever so softly, “To fall in love with you, to always think of you, to always dream of you,”

He made a mistake in his decisions, he admits that. He should've done things better. Choosing Lilith over her was a mistake, “Yes, it hurts so much to fall in love with.”

He sighs softly, choking on his words as he sings his unspoken feelings. His hand trembled with emotions, “Sorry for leaving like that, you don't deserve to get caught in my mess.”

He was a troublemaker, he didn't want her to get caught in his mess but whatever silly idea he had, she was always ready to listen and comfort him when the elders rejected it. He gently held her hand, feeling how cold her skin was, he cups it with his hand and blew some warm air to it to warm her hand. He used to do this when they were back in heaven.

He gently laid down her hand back to the bed and back to her side, a small smile on his face before he let out a sad sigh, “Loving me is just so difficult, I don't know how I should tell you that.” he admits softly, he knows how tiring he can be, he knows... He had to deal with himself after all. He sighs, he's been doing so much of it lately.

“I've fallen for somebody else, happened so quickly, I lost myself.” he admitted, he realized years ago that he was only infatuated with Lilith, when the honeymoon phase was over, arguments started.

“A shadow of you drifts along by my window or did I imagine that?” he could remember when he would spend all by himself at the kitchen, drinking after a fight with Lilith and during his drunken delusion, he would often see figures of [Y/n] comforting him.

A shaky breath leaves past his lips, eyes tired and dull. He looks at the sleeping once more, she looked so peaceful.

He wonders if he should transfer her to the hotel, he needs to check up on Charlie and the others too. With a heavy sigh, he gently lifted her up into his arms once more—effortlessly carrying her. A sense of deja vu hits him, a memory of the time he carried her like this after they got married, [Y/n] happily laughing in his arms while he grins at her as he held her. Times were simple back then.

A single tear drop, running down his blemish free pale skin, the droplet running past his rosy red spots of his cheeks.

He took a deep breath, summoning a portal that leads to an empty vacant room of the hotel, he steps in with her still asleep on his arms. The portal closes behind them as the room shifts into one Hazbin Hotel's newest guest rooms.

He gently walked towards the bed, gently laying her down comfortably, making sure to tuck her in.

Finally, he slowly gave distance between them. Standing just a few feet away from the bed, a sad look on his face, “This is how it feels, to fall in love with you, to always think of you, to always dream of you,”

Seeing her after all these years, ignited the fading flame of his love for her. Adding gasoline to a flame.

“Yes, it hurts so much to fall in love with you.” he silently admitted, she doesn't hurt him, he knows it was his fault. He made everything complicated, his decision caused harm to her and their son, to these sinners. He made a reckless decision of abandoning her, giving both of them pain in the process.

He doesn't deserve her. Not after the things he's put her through.

He thought sadly, before turning his back away from her, walking out of the room. He took one last look at her sleeping form before eventually closing the door as he left the room.

The heels of his boots tapped against the dark red tiles of the hallway of the hotel as he walked towards his own room. He needs some time to process everything.

Charlie wasn't expecting a visitor this soon after the extermination, she certainly didn't expect her visitor to be her half half brother, a frown on his face and a glare on his eyes. She would've mistaken him for her father if he didn't have [e/c] eyes and also if the boy wasn't ridiculously so tall.

Charlie smiled nervously, how could she not? Xavier was looking down on her literally with the same coldness in his eyes.

“Xavier... Hi! I didn't expect you to be here...” Charlie says nervously, waving at him.

Xavier just raised an eyebrow, clearly not interested in small talk, “Where is she?” he asked, voice cold and means business.

Charlie tilted her head, “Who...?” she asked, wondering who the older boy was referring to.

Xavier scoffed, [e/c] eyes narrowing down on the blonde girl as he crosses his arms together on his chest, “My mother,” he answered, a deadpan look on his face, “—She came down here a few hours ago, she should've been back by now.” he added, a worried tone on his voice. Xavier was beyond worried, his poor mother alone in this disgusting place—the realm his blood father ruled. He can't imagine the possibilities that could happen to her.

Charlie's eyes widened in realization, oh, the angel. Why didn't she realize it sooner? Of course he's referring to the passed out angelic woman. Charlie is slightly nervous about telling the older boy, but she has to, “She's resting, she suddenly passed out awhile ago....?” She says, nervously, avoiding Xavier's eyes.

Xavier's eyes widened, ears ringing as everything suddenly went numb. For a brief moment, it felt like he was alone once more, the scared little boy who begged for his mother's attention.

He could remember how close she was to him but for some reason, he couldn't reach her. His mother can barely look at him in the eyes without crying. He felt useless, pathetic for being born this way and caused his beloved mother so much pain. He failed, he failed, he failed, he failed, HE FAILED HER. He couldn't save her again.

Mom...? Where are you? Please... Don't leave me again...

Charlie's eyes widened when she sees a single tear slid down Xavier's cheek despite the boy's unchanging glare, Charlie though could notice how sad his eyes were.

“Xavier...?” She calls out to him, no response.

“Azrael... He looks so much like him... I... I can't... It hurts to look at him.” his mother sobbed on the unknown taller and black haired man's shoulders. Xavier grips his duck plushie, he was somehow fond of the animal. The little boy peaked through the small gap of the door to his mother's room, hoping for some comfort after a nightmare—he didn't expect to see his beloved mom crying about him and that made him freeze on the spot. He was a smart child after all, just like his father.

“[Y/n]... He's just a kid... He needs you...” Xavier heard the man say, he still has trouble saying his name. Was it Azwawel? Or Azrawel? He forgot. Xavier, despite being so young, barely six years old—suddenly felt so numb. He slowly walked away from his mother's room, dragging the duck plushie. It felt heavier than usual, his little arms too weak to hold it.

He felt his chest tighten, he couldn't breathe. Chest heaving up and down as he tries to catch his breath.

Charlie got even more worried as she saw him begin to hyperventilate, “Xavier! Hey, hey... Look at me.” She says softly, holding on to the arms of the shaking boy, the physical contact snapping him out of his trance as he quickly pulled his arms away from the girl.

“Do not touch me.” he hissed, glaring at Charlie, “Tell me where my mother is or I'll destroy this hotel just to find her.” he threatened, making Charlie's eyes widen in fear. She knows she can't fight him, let alone her friends aren't as powerful to fight an angelic being—a Seraphim.

“She's upstairs, resting... Just don't hurt anyone.” She stammers, giving way for the older boy to come inside the hotel. She knew as her father texted her about it.

Vaggie's eyes widened when she saw the angel walks in, she could feel the man's power as he entered the room. Suddenly, the room got colder. Vaggie summoned her spear but she saw Charlie crossing her arms into an 'X' while shaking her head. Vaggie hesitantly lowered her weapon as they all looked at each other, she had to grip Angel Dust's arm to stop the arachnid from doing stupid—thankfully, Angel Dust seemed to get the memo and closed his mouth. Husk had to hold Niffty to stop her from causing chaos again.

Charlie led him up the stairs to the second floor, the others watching as they disappeared from sight.

Xavier's eyes widened as the door to where his mother was resting was opened, the first thing he saw was his mother's passed out form, lying down on the bed.

Xavier immediately kneeled down to his mother's side, holding her hand affectionately. What happened to her?

He looked angrily at Charlie, dull [e/c] eyes staring at bright red ones, “What did you do to her?” he asked, voice lowering and clearly pissed off. Charlie shakes her head, clearly afraid of him, “We didn't do anything! She suddenly just passed out on her own.” she explained and he just sighs, shaking away his thoughts.

‘They wouldn't just recklessly harm an angel, they couldn't land a hit on her if they tried. She must've overworked again.’ he thought to himself, sighing.

“Just leave us alone please? Now.” he ordered, Charlie flinched in fear but nodded and quickly left the room, making sure to close the door on her way out.

Xavier sighs, his shoulders dropping. It suddenly felt like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. His mother is his world, after all.

“It's going to be okay, mother. I am here for you, always.” he spoke softly, kissing his mother's hand before lowering it back down to the bed, hovering his hand over her sleeping form and began to heal her.

Lucifer stood outside the door to where [Y/n] was resting, his hand hovering above the doorknob—shaking. Charlie just told him about the situation. His son is here, the son he didn't know who existed was here.

He took a deep breath, ‘You can do this, Lucifer... This is your chance to ask for forgiveness.’ he thought to himself before knocking first and then slowly twisted the doorknob, pushing it open.

It felt like he was looking at the mirror, it felt like he was looking at a reflection of himself—the reflection glaring at him, sharp [e/c] eyes glaring at him with so much hatred.

“You!” the boy growled, standing up from where he was kneeling.

Lucifer was taken aback from the boy's anger. It felt like he was looking at a past version of him, the past him who despised heaven who treated him so wrongfully.

“What are you doing here? Why do you have so much audacity to come here like you didn't do anything wrong?” the boy asked, his voice filled with so much distaste for his father.

Lucifer's eyes widened, words stuck in his throat. Say something!

With a heavy inhale and exhale, Lucifer looked at the glaring boy, trying to calm him down, “I know what I did and I... Want to apologize... For all the things I've done.” he said softly, stammering slightly. He's trying so hard not to show that he's beyond nervous.

Xavier's glare sharpened, who does this man think he is?! Did he think a mere apology can undo all the damage he has done to him and his mother.

“Who do you think you are?” he asked Lucifer mockingly, a cold look on his face. Lucifer just stood frozen on the spot.

“Just because you're the most beautiful being of all of creation doesn't mean you can have anything you want,” Xavier sneered, a mocking smile on his face, “Your title and power doesn't mean anything to me, how does it feel to be the most beautiful being in all of creation yet you are thoroughly despised by your own flesh and blood?” Xavier asked and suddenly Lucifer couldn't speak, his chest tightening at the harsh words his supposed son had said to him. His breath caught up on his throat.

“This face...?” Xavier says, his hand moving towards his own face, he glared at his birth father, “I despised it so much, it's horrendous.” he says flatly.

“I do not know what my mother sees in you,” he says, looking up and down on his father's frozen form—not moving a muscle, “All I see is an angel who failed to become what he needed to become. A failure, nothing more and nothing less.” he says sharply, [e/c] eyes dull and hollow as he gazes at dull red ones.

Lucifer felt the familiar sting in his eyes, he desperately willed himself not to cry. What a failure of a father he is. First Charlie, now it's.... He doesn't even know the boy's name, he remembered Charlie telling him, but he somehow forgot. Pathetic.

Xavier's lips were formed in a thin line, turning his back away from his supposed blood father. He still doesn't understand why his beloved mother loves his father so much. He's too afraid to ask. Too afraid of making her remember such painful memories. He'll wait for her to open up. They have so much time to heal, he'll wait. He could remember young him who wanted to meet his father so much, the young naive Xavier who admired his father—the father who created the very species he loved so much, ducks. Poor naive Xavier who finally learned the pain his father gave to his mother to point his mother can't look at him, her beloved son in the eyes.

With a shaky breath, finally letting go of the breath he took in. Xavier sighs, “I will be taking my mother back home, thank you for your hospitality.” Xavier murmured, gently lifting his mother into his arms with no effort.

Lucifer's eyes widened from what the boy has said, they're going to leave. He needs to do something, anything to earn their forgiveness.

“Wait..! Please let her recover mor—”

“Haven't you done enough damage already?” Xavier asked, his voice devoid of any emotions as he tilted his head slightly to look at his father, a single stray tear running down his pale cheeks, the single droplet running past the rosy red spot on his cheek.

Lucifer was taken aback once more, the King of Hell can see so much sadness, anger, and longing on the boy's eyes. Lucifer wanted to reach out to the boy, his fatherly instincts kicking in. His hand extending where the boy stood, pausing as he hesitated.

Even after all these years, sweet little Xavier is still somewhere inside him. The sweet naive Xavier who wanted a complete family, who wanted a father.

“I said what I said, she'll be going home and get proper treatment. I doubt hell is a appropriate place to treat an angel like her.” Xavier says flatly, clearly not open for any discussion left. His decision is final. Lucifer can only respect that, he owes it to them. Lucifer finally lowers his hand, regrettably so.

Xavier turned away from Lucifer once more, summoning a portal back to their home in heaven.

A bright golden light formed in thin air as a portal opened, Xavier stepped in with his mother in his arms. He dared not look back. He doesn't have any reason to.

The portal closes in. Lucifer was left alone standing in the guestroom, his first family gone in a blink of an eye.

He cried in anguish inside that room.

He can hear his bones rattle against his skin as he dragged his body to his mother's bedroom, Xavier is incredibly exhausted. Physically, no. Emotionally and mentally? Yes, absolutely.

He is still carrying his mother in his arms, prioritizing her comfort over his.

Kicking the door open, he walked at the center of the room where his mother's bed was, gently laying her down. Making sure to tuck her in.

[Y/n] snuggled, against her blanket. Xavier smiled, a gentle yet strained smile on his face.

“I'll protect you mom, sleep well and dream well.” he says softly, planting a small kiss on his mother's forehead before eventually leaving the room.

TAGLIST I:

@valerie-36 @blackbleedingrose @adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @zc000ter @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex @nehy019 @napbatata @kouyoumarryme @sxgacxbe @kooidoom @ok-boke @random-3455 @izzieg3987 @snoozewritezz @dreamzaremyreality @hcneyiced @witchbunny1210 @ghostdoodlen @aikobakugou @just-here-reading @dzhanett-blog @des-deswain5621 @cocomollo @haleypearce @onyxstarhigh06 @nirvana5874 @shaebutter-baby

#lxkeee updates #hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer #lxkeee hazbin hotel masterlist #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer magne #“TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN”#lucifer x reader angst #lucifer x y/n #lucifer x reader #lucifer x you #Lucifer morningstar x reader angst #lucifer morningstar x female reader

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hellsslibrary · 1 month

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sub...Michael Kaiser...with male reader...please...I'm begging...

Just saw the latest chapter and him saying "please" made me simultaneously combust.

What if he says that word but on a completely different context, iykwim 👀👀👀👀

"In an ideal relationship, pure love and dirty sex complement each other, not exclude each other."

#a.n. : You can't imagine how much fun it was to write this, different sides of the dominant were fighting inside me, it was wild.

MASTERLIST is here.

!!Warnings: top!dom!male!reader, sub!bottom!Michael, brat taming, humiliation, light strangulation, dry orgasm, you dig Kaiser to the point of half death, reader breaks the bed and unironically fights Alexis for a place in the hotel with Michael by playing tic-tac-toe (mention, I thought it was funny), Kaiser is literally folded in half, one bite to his ankle and a slight mention of blood, three phrases in German (my half-German roots take over), riding.

It was obviously not a revelation to Kaiser why this had started. He had started to understand it the moment you almost fought Ness to share a hotel room with him. After all, you, as adults and completely mentally ill people, played tic-tac-toe and you beat Alexis. After all, he could survive a couple of nights not in a room with Michael, but you? Oh no, you had too big of a plan for him.

He had figured it out himself, as soon as he saw that you were actually focused on winning this stupid game and not playing for fun... But I guess he didn't understand what exactly was waiting for him. Although that's the best part.

"G-gott! Y/n, slow d-down! This is, oh shit, this is too mu-much!" came out unintelligibly from his lips, while he grabbed the sheets beneath him with all his might, his graceful fingers almost tearing apart the poor fabric that was holding on with all its might.

"Are you sure?" you clarify, knowing he won’t answer because he doesn’t want to, but he also doesn’t want to seem too needy.

And so he does. He stays silent, burying his face in the pillows and pushing his ass back a little more to somehow meet your ruthless thrusts that didn’t allow him to breathe properly.

You squeeze his hips, pressing lightly on his stomach under your fingers, causing him to whine loudly, even muffled by the cotton pillowcases. His toned ass jiggles slightly with each thrust, making you want to bite one of his cheeks right now, but oh, what a shame the human body can’t bend like that, huh?

Kaiser felt too good as you admired his ass and his bulging back without any other thought. He felt like his whole being was melting, turning into nothing more than obedient plasticine in your hands, which you could bend as you wish.

He bites his lip to hold back another moan. It seems like he can hear his heartbeat in every part of his body, no matter how unimportant or far from his head. It seems like his blood is so hot that he is about to melt... Not that it is not true, considering how sweaty you both have been for the last few dozen minutes.

"Aren't you going to answer me, handsome? Or do you want me to stop and leave you empty and thirsty, hm?" your whisper sends involuntary goosebumps down his body when he realizes that your chest is rubbing against his back and he makes some kind of sound similar to hiccups, turning his head to the side.

"Shut up."

The phrase made your hips freeze almost immediately, your eyebrow involuntarily crawling up at the fact that he had the strength to speak clearly, and also to act like a complete brat, when you were obviously lifting him to Heaven and back with your actions.

"Move, idiot. Why the hell did you stop?"

Your eye twitched and you took a deep breath, looking down at his frowning, flushed face. There were traces of moisture all over his face from tears and sweat mixed together, his lips were slightly swollen from holding back moans, but most importantly, his eyes. The shine in them. He knew what he was doing, or rather, what he was saying.

Before he could come to his senses, your lips spread into an almost animalistic smile and your cock completely slipped out of him. Kaiser was about to complain, but you abruptly flip him over onto his back, and then immediately, without warning, you penetrate inside.

His next moan was probably heard by everyone in the hotel, or at least on your floor. And all the following ones, too. He was no longer holding back, moaning at the top of his lungs. His hands were looking for something to grab onto and wanted to close around your shoulders, but you would not allow him such luxury, so you squeezed his palms above his head.

"What a pity. If you want to act like a little slut, then I will have to treat you like one," you lean right over his face, sliding out so that only your tip remains inside him, and then penetrate in the roughest way you can.

"Ohhh, ple-please... Ple-please, fuck, s-sir, I b-beg yo-you... P-please!"

He himself did not understand what he was begging for, while you just let out a chuckle from this. Michael could barely form any coherent words, he was just mumbling obvious nonsense now.

Your fingers squeezed the blond's leg at his knee, throwing one of his legs over your shoulder, practically folding him in half. He muttered something unintelligible, tears starting to flow from his closed eyes while his hands clenched into fists helplessly in your grip.

"What? You decided to fix yourself in a couple of seconds, handsome? That's not like you. My dick makes you drunk?" he would never admit that it did, but his head shook in agreement too convulsively.

You bite his ankle, digging into the white skin, causing him to cry out in pain, but he doesn't complain. He just stares excitedly at the small trickle of blood rolling down his leg. Your free hand, not holding his hand, falls on his neck.

And God, something clicks inside him. He cums, but nothing comes out, in that same second, although your hand did not have time to settle down and squeeze properly. You only look at the pathetic state of the German while he experiences a dry orgasm and how his cock twitches.

"What a pity... Although you are a smart boy. Even without realizing anything, you do not dare to cum for real without my permission..." Michael only moans in response, not being able to say anything anymore, especially now that you are blocking part of his air.

"Please, Y-y/n," he manages to mumble somehow, looking at you with empty, smoky eyes, hazed with a haze of lust, and you feel how he squeezes around your cock. Probably on purpose, but now you do not care.

"Please what, baby? You have to speak clearly," he frowns, looking away and staring at some tasteless painting on the wall, trying to pull some kind of speech out of his brain.

"Let me cum... Bitte, mein schatz," Kaiser whines, managing to somehow rise up, although it is clearly uncomfortable and even painful for him, given the position he is in, and kissing the corner of your lips, missing the main target. "Bitte lass mich abspritzen, lass mich auf deinen Schwanz abspritzen..."

You feel something break inside you. He looked beautiful and didn't even seem embarrassed as usual by his obvious vulnerability and the state of some kind of toy in your hands. In the end, he even found the strength to kiss you and didn't even wince at the fact that he literally bent in half for a couple of seconds. Well, how can you not spoil such a boy, right?

His head falls back, he sighs raggedly when you begin to pound him with the maximum speed and roughness you can muster right now. The bed beneath you creaks pitifully, as does Kaiser himself, not expecting such pressure.

"Dann komm, Hübscher," your words send him over the edge immediately, squeezing your cock as if in a vice.

He paints your and his stomach white, cumming surprisingly much. And he doesn't react at all when you continue your thrusts with a same force, only small sighs escaping from his lips.

But then he screams and something cracks under you. You manage to catch him and throw his leg aside carefully but quickly, and press him to your chest.

"You... Managed to break the bed? Wow, new even for you," Michael mutters, watching the mattress and sheets sag in the hole in the bed, chuckling hoarsely and weakly hugging your shoulders now that he has this opportunity.

"I'll ask to change the room and pay for the bed... I don't even want to imagine the face of the girl at the reception, but..." You look up at the blond, who is now sitting on your lap and thoughtfully narrow your gaze.

"Ride you? Good," he understands what is needed, feeling that you have not yet finished and managed to twitch inside him even at such a moment. "You can't be trusted with the pace anymore, you're too wild... Next time we're in hotels, I'll ride you."

"Fair and sweet, I'm more than willing," he starts moving his hips, moaning with every movement, still sensitive from his orgasm, trying not to go too fast so you both don't fall off the bed... Until the broken part of the bed falls to the floor, causing a huge noise, but hey, you're facing the ace of German youth football, who cares? Especially one so rarely vulnerable and caring like this.

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koishua · 6 months

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★. 𝐄𝐍— and the orange peel theory.

! © 𝗞𝗢𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗨𝗔 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟰, 𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗥𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧𝗦 𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗥𝗩𝗘𝗗.

starring hee, jay, jake. + their version of the orange peel theory

━━━━━━━━━━━ 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆

he doesn't think anything of it when he snaps your chopsticks in two for you from where he is positioned across you. the plastic chairs in front of the convenience store upon which you're seated on aren't the most comfortable, the sharp edges digging into your skin on occasions when you fidget around trying to find a way to strike up a conversation with the man you can't bare to label as your friend now.

the bamboo sticks now rest on top of the lid of your bowl of instant ramen, currently waiting to be fully cooked within the three minute time frame the instructions had given you. you notice how they hadn't split equally, one having snapped away a small portion of the other side with it. the irony of it all feels comical when you detach yourself from the situation you're currently trying not to run away from.

heeseung doesn't say much as you hesitantly take the broken utensil. he can only pretend to awkwardly observe the engravings in the table, occasionally glancing at the dainty chain of the necklace hiding under your collar. it had been his fingers to graze against the skin of your neck to clasp it together for you. he wonders what hurts more; remembering, or having to force himself to forget about it all?

━━━━━━━━━━━ 𝐉𝐀𝐘

the house is quiet, had been for hours now, except for your frantic breaths and hurried stomps while darting from room to room, trying to find your bearings as the time ticks by much too quickly for your liking. the alarms you'd set for your lecture hadn't rung (they had, actually— no one would dare to disagree, however), which had naturally resulted in you running late for it yet again.

your lips lift lopsidedly moments after the neatly framed picture of the happiest moment of your life catches your eye as you try to put on the stubborn socks you'd fished out from the drawer on your side of the bed. jay had always been beautiful, even back when he still had that boyish smirk constantly plastered over his face, hair a mess.

you make a mental note to wipe away the dust that had started to form a thin sheet over the wooden frame, though that too is quickly forgotten when you realize that he'd very kindly filled up your bottle with water and placed it next to the most comfortable shoes you owned he'd laid nearly on the floor by the door, certain of your forgetful habits.

━━━━━━━━━━━ 𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄

layla's tail wags excitedly at the sight of the treat in your hands that you leave for her to enjoy. smoothing over the gingham sheet before laying back on the lap of your favourite person in this universe and the next, from where you look up at him, the sun blazing in the sky makes it look like he's emitting a heavenly glow. fitting for someone like sim jake.

days like this don't come by often for either of you, so having you right by him, the weather as beautiful as it could ever get. this is what he'd describe heaven to feel like. every part of his body beats with the insatiable desire to always have you as close to him as possible, day and night.

the cool breeze is a constant visitor to your little spot by the beach, a welcome addition to the already magical day. realising that he'd gotten lost in his thoughts, he looks down at your serene expression, off somewhere in dreamland, most likely. his thumb gently traces under your eyes, a ghostly touch afraid of waking you up from your deserved rest. he unclips the hair accessories he can see tugging and digging into your skin before adjusting the shade to cover your eyes.

this is his dreamland.

notes from vie: couldn't help it with the hee angst y'all im sorry it's a koishua must. it was very mild tho so yeah enjoy please i haven't exercised my enha writing skills in ages and as always pls reblog muah muah ignore any errors i haven't got the energy to correct them myself 🍊🍊

#enhypen imagines #enhypen fluff #enhypen x reader #heeseung imagines #heeseung fluff #jake imagines #jake fluff #jay imagines #jay fluff #jay x reader #heeseung x reader #jake x reader #enhypen scenarios #enhypen headcanons

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pieroulette · 1 year

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Did I, A Side Character Became the Male Lead's Wife?!

2023 | 13+ | ONESHOT | YANG JUNGWON × READER | -> PART 2

SUMMARY you — a side character in a royal novel doing absolutely nothing but enjoy your rich ass yet boring life, only watching over the female lead and doing your job in protecting her, only for a pair of kittenish eyes to fall not upon the female lead but on you, unfortunately.

AUTHOR'S NOTE not me writing a whole ass oneshot at 5am bcs of that sweet ask from that one anon, imma name u serotonin dopamine anon lmao- and jungwon bae u r truly my muse.. also inspired by sum manhwas cuz I binge read 90+ chapters in less than a day 💀💀💀 plus happy 900+ followers for me <333 mom wake up I'm famous even tho I'll never let u know what my secret writing blog is about 😊😊

a side character, how cute?

well, you only came to know of this very horrible (not really) fact that you're nothing close to a main character's vibes cause look at you babe, where's the sparkling shiny starry dust on you as you walked through the red carpet at the ball?

and did they even spare a glance at you? unfortunately, nope. because the female lead, Liz; was your enemy, at least in how your character was written in the novel by the goddamn author which was you.

yes, that's right!

you, a hella introverted author dwelling in the deepest corner of her room doing nothing but spent an ungodly amount of hours creating the perfect and enchanting characters after crying for major character death of a fic a few years ago. wiping your dripping tears off your cheeks in a comical way as you pull open your laptop and risk your 20/20 vision for life, just so you can reverse the aching pain in your chest that you wore a thick ass glasses now.

Liz, the female lead. Swooning over her was your religion, throwing not one but a ten whole buckets explaining how perfect she was—or how tremendously kind she was, delicate and utterly sweet. patting yourself on the back for creating such a goddess of a character, so it's only wise for you to give her a fitting male lead, right? Okay we'll talk about that later since it's about you right now.

So how did you end up in your novel? Well, because of one fateful day of you doing absolutely nothing but taking a goddamn rest, and whoever the god in heaven that just randomly decided to throw you in the novel you wrote yourself—must be utterly insane. Perfect indeed!

it took you a humongous realisation to see yourself in a dark green puffy dress that represents jealousy, envy, and betrayal—which also represents the side character standing behind the female lead on the thick cover of your book. you've originally written her as that wicked best friend that uses her seductive way of speech to seduce men, and at last turning her back at the female lead by accusing her of a horrendous crime.

her fatal fate consists of her head being snapped by the guillotine, unfortunately. but for you, not really, cause you are so in for destroying wicked characters but jokes on you—you're now in the body of that character.

pfft, can't the gods put you in a character that lives near the sea, with your straw hat on and as you drank your lemon juice away from the public drama, angsty dialogues, cringe moments you yourself have created because you don't have atleast an ounce of social skills that's why you pour it all on your characters.

"oh my apologies, milady— pfft—" three ladies sticking with each other like a super glue, had thrown the glass of wine on the female lead's gown—earning a series of gasps from everyone who saw but you were sure won't pay an ounce of consideration towards her as you had written almost everyone in this novel as "the world against the weak, fragile character."

oh, right. the hyena laughters of those you describe in episode 3 of "the flashy ball"; the three evil sisters, because why not? they added the extra spices in your tongue to the point you couldn't wait for them to get slap by the female lead or possibly someone.

ah, the tremendous satisfaction.

and you were one of that person whose hands itching to smash their skull apart, you cringed enormously at them as they were the ones that brought total trouble wherever they went or whoever are unlucky enough to get in their way. unfortunately, you seal your female lead's fate with them as she need some little obstacles, doesn't she?

you as hell were not sure what you're supposed to do, whether to just let things happen as the story goes or you do the male lead's job in protecting the female lead cause you have no idea why is he taking such a long time to appear, when he should've made his grand entrance at the freaking introduction?

and you wrote it that way cause you got fed up with male leads making their first appearance at the ball, and somehow quickly gaining the female lead's heart like Cinderella cause dear lord where's the slow burn?

just say, you're a conservative grandma type of a mindset or that you are skeptical over love at first sight. yep, you're right. that's why you ain't gonna let your precious female lead get bullied in front of your very eyes. she's like your granddaughter right now, seriously.

a shriek echoed through the entire ball, gaining everyone's attention. "oh my god! my dress! you— lady Liz! who did you even brought with you?!"

oh right, you forgot it's your first time at the ball either. "my apologies, milady. it's just that i saw a bunch of hyenas roaming around.." you rubbed the back of your neck.

"hyenas?! guards—"

"chill, what's the commotion here?" a bright dashing blonde haired man in a red royal suit came around, with sets of stars dusting upon his form which you already realise to be part of the main characters but unfortunately you forgot. you ain't having that extra superhuman memory just because you are an author.

the bunch of hyenas before you reasoned with the prince, but you slowly realise that the prince was none other than Prince Jake. Inspired by that one puppy image idol from fourth generation of kpop, you were apparently slurping your noodles in the local restaurant when you watched him imitating a dog from the tv, causing you to choke on your noodles.

it's safe to say, he's hot enough that he had to be part of your main characters. aah, that signature dashing smile of his as he defended the female lead with his wisely chosen string of words which immediately melted everyone's heart at sight.

times like this you wish you were actually the female lead, but the logical side of you beg to differ; you are not emotionally capable of spewing cringy romantic words for that's only reserved for writing. So thank you, i'll pass.

Surely, Prince Jake ain't the male lead for your precious female lead but you just let them converse with each other despite her with her absolute kindness, urging you to talk with them too, atleast a word. it sort of felt for a moment like she was trying to match you with the prince.

like no please, you'd rather not to. hot guys are hot, but they're not worth the emotional investment past the fangirling section.

plus the prince doesn't seem interested you as he doesn't spare not even one look at you which obviously you couldn't care any less, you sneakily went out the ball after a series of mishaps—for example your heavy puffy ass gown with its sole purpose to only look pretty but the reality ain't that pretty to say the least, panting like a dog as you took each step towards the entrance all while cussing yourself for ignoring your logical part of brain that you shouldn't have been adding humongous useless words to describe the gown just to make it sound extremely pleasing to the readers.

now you're the one to bear the consequences of your own writing, the fuck.

"one! two!—" a long, long, depressing sigh echoes. "three! ah!—" consequently falling upon your face, what a perfect day indeed. you just wanted to go home, tuck yourself in your comforting blanket, eat your hot cup of ramen or indulge yourself in the sea of chocolate while daydreaming of your favourite idols and fictional characters.

not this awful disaster of you getting tangled in the courts' affairs.

"i suppose, you need help, milady?"

oh no, certainly not. don't call me milady, pretend i do not exist for i certainly do not have the social skills to pretend that i like you, or form a decent conversation especially with men.

"milady?"

you curled yourself, burying your head into the comfort of your gowns. wondering quite a bit of how odd you look in the middle of the hallway.

"milady?" his voice-like whisper came closer, obviously standing beside you right now. "are you okay?"

fuck it. "please, i beg of you to kindly leave me alone as my day has been utterly ruined and—" oh wait, he seems oddly familiar. those lush fluffy hair and kittenish orbs that only softens among those he were close enough.

prince jungwon.

oh! the male lead, oh my god! your jaw hang so low it fell on the ground, your eyes sparkled in dozens of star like universe as you took in his marvelous beauty that you had spent creating meticulously after studying all the '101 rules of how to create the perfect male lead that had the readers heart evaporating & a huge ass green forest that certainly would cause blazing flames'.

"oh my god! you look absolutely gorgeous, i've done it really well didn't i?! oh my god!"

"o-oh—! absolutely, you did well!" he immediately replied back, pressing his lips tight nervously.

wait what? what did he say? oh shit, oh well, covering your mouth instantly as you accidentally let it out before the prince, your precious male lead that you solely created for the female lead. "i—.."

the prince, your very precious character—obviously taken aback with a slight blush dusting of his adorable cheeks as he raise his fist up to his lips, coughing a couple of seconds. a personality trait you very well are familiar of cause that's how you wrote him when he fall in love with the female lead.

your eyes ogled out at that familiar sight, screaming at the back of your mind—wait, wait! you're not supposed to fall in love with me, you idiot! go back! go inside the ball, she's inside there!

"that's oddly brave of you, milady. i'd certainly go as far as to say that i've never seen such traits from a lady." kitten eyes softening at you, crouching down as he lend both of his hands for you. you raised your eyebrow confusingly at what is he trying to pull at but you realise he was intending to get you up.

"u-uhm? uh, sorry. i could get up on my own, actually." yeah, that's what you did. pushing yourself back up despite his protests because you ain't gonna let him fall any further for you, nah uh, not in this life, your mission is to get him and your female lead together inside the frames of birds holding flower wreaths as they went on to their happily ever after.

not with you!

"may i have the honour to know your name, though, milady?" why the fuck isn't he leaving, what is there so interesting in you that he is still standing here asking you such generic questions.

you shouldn't be having the characters attention on you as you obviously wrote it that way, and that even though your character in the novel had tried to get the prince's heart, despite resorting to foul actions, that he never truly had been attracted to her despite this characters' seductive aura.

for you squealed so loud at the scene you wrote, with jungwon putting her in her place. "you are not her, and you would never be her." along with the bunch of your readers hosting a flamboyant celebration under the comments, screaming over how loyal he was.

so what in the actual fuck is this?

"you don't need my name." you nonchalantly answered.

"my apologies?"

"you see, my best friend is in the ball—" you gestured your hands to the entrance of the ballroom, "and she needs your help more than i do."

"wait? why would she need my help?" his eyebrows knitted together in utter confusion as you pushed him through his back.

"of course, she do! don't ask anything!"

"wait!— my name is!" he forcefully turn to face you again, but you immediately covered his mouth with your hands—kabedonning him against the wall.

an excruciating silence occured between you two in the silent hallway, Jungwon freezing to his core when your other hand shoot beside his head.

"listen i don't need your name, dear sir." you emphasise each word, you certainly don't need to know his name nor his status as a prince, not wanting to risk any possible connection with him judging by how he acted before you just now.

"b-but!" his words were muffled into the void as you cupped his mouth tighter.

"shh, shh. stop talking and listen, will you?!"

jungwon nodded slowly, what an odd situation he was in right now, he thought. but somehow he likes it.

"so first step, is go inside the ballroom. second, look for the lady in pink gown, and third—"

"t-third?"

"third is tell her your name! my best friend needs it more than i do!" you release him from your grasp as you went to swing open the huge double door, "now go!" waving a goodbye before kicking his body through the entrance, pulling the door back with your entire strength despite his protests.

oh of course, you finally let out a gag after suppressing it in front of him the entire time as you've never had a proper conversation with a male without stuttering, somewhat a sad tragedy for you, unfortunately. you felt quite guilty about your readers who swoon over the romances you wrote between your leads, weeping over how you're so good at it—not knowing you're a complete introvert with only a gigantic ass dictionary with you.

finally, the male lead and female lead's romances are about to start! you squealed with your hands clasping as you went on your way to the carriage, gesturing for the rider to embark on the way to your heavenly puffy manor with the widest big grin ever that it had him questioning you, "has any gentleman had caught your heart, milady? a couple of hours ago, you were often beyond distraught to attend the ball but insisted when you heard Lady Liz was going."

"oh, you silly." you giggled as you swayed your hand, "of course, that's one of the reasons. but there's another one.."

"may i ask what is it, then?"

you leaned in closer, urging him to get closer as you whispered. "i got the chance to become a Cupid!"

"a Cupid?" you squealed before the old man, hopping like a child for quite awhile before flying into the carriage much to his surprise, but only shook his head in amusement—appalled by how his mistress had changed so much.

"so?" you couldn't help yourself from pulling out the widest eccentric grin at the female lead, extremely curious and ecstatic over what romances had bloom between her and Jungwon.

Liz raises her eyebrow in confusion, "so?.. what do you mean, milady?"

you shrugged, falling back to your seat as you raise your eyebrow in a comical way, "that.." whispering ever so seductively, "prince."

"p-prince?

"yes!" the teacup rattles at your excitement oozing so much that you tapped the table a couple of times. "what happen? what's the tea~"

she lets out a soft giggle, a bit amused by your excitement. "i have no idea what you're trying to imply, milady."

"wait? what are you saying? didn't the prince went to you last night?"

Liz shook her head slowly, her expressions clearly stating that she absolutely don't know what and who you were talking about as a smile pulled up on her lips once again, taking a few sip from her teacup.

veins popped out from your neck as it dawned on you, your head snapped towards the castle on top of the mountain, you stupid of a prince! you cussed at him endlessly at the back of your mind, tightening your fist as your ears and nose fuming in anger. how dare he? he didn't listen to you at all? what in the actual fuck? would this somehow divert the original route? a dozen question arise into your mind one after another, causing you to let out an exaggerated sigh.

facepalming yourself as you imagined the imaginary heavenly light on top of you, weeping to yourself about how tremendously unlucky you are to have a hard headed male lead. it's impossible, you have never added a trait so irritating like this in his profile so how could this happen?

"milady?" the gentle voice of your precious female lead pulled you out of your inner desperation, you leaned in closer, whining so much over how unlucky you were and such, the rest only being in your mind as you pouted.

"ah, i remember now, the prince—"

"WHAT?—" you immediately seated yourself after giving her a potential heart attack, "my apologies, what did you actually.. remember?"

"i assume you were talking about the prince from yesterday? prince jake?"

"no not that bitch— oh certainly not him, ehem.." you took a couple of exaggerated coughs, avoiding her evident confusion. "isn't there a prince.. name jungwon with you that night?"

"oh my goodness! right! prince jungwon!" she shook her head in disbelief with her finger on her head.

right, how did you even forgot that the female lead in front of you had a "weak ass memory" in her profile description. tsk tsk, truly a forgetful author you are. you should be trying your best to remember the things you wrote before and revise it as best as you can, to avoid any possible problems in the future, atleast.

"right, how did i even forget, the prince asked me for your name, milady—"

"huh?" you look at her with confusion, as you were out of reality a couple of seconds ago. your orbs terribly widened as her words slowly sinking in to your brain. "HUH?"

ask your name?! why your name, why not hers?! what did the prince ate that night before stumbling onto your way that he had to ask for your name before the female lead—his own lover?!

laughing awkwardly, you raise your leg on top of another as you nervously swayed your hands repeatedly. "oh dear, oh dear. you might have heard it wrong, the prince?—" snorting outloud as you gestured to yourself, "asking for my name? what a funny news!"

"i didn't, milady. the prince came to me and asked me for your name, as he was immensely curious of who you are so i—"

"so what?—" you can't believe this, you really can't bring yourself to believe any words she was uttering. you should have been bestowed by the news that the prince had taken an interest in her, a hand in marriage, or anything, anything as long as you're out of the picture! "y-you didn't tell him my name, d-didn't you?"

"of course, i did!" exclaimed she did with the widest grin ever.

why are you so freaking happy over this?! clasping your head in your hands as you tragically fall on your knees causing the lady to gasp in shock, ushering to your side to get you up.

"milady?! what's wrong?"

"d-dear," you pouted as you look up to her, "you didn't tell him where my manor's at, r-right?"

she simply replied, "i did? the prince informed me that he's going to send a letter for you to be his partner to the ball."

an imaginary arrow struck back to your heart, forming a humongous hole that threatens to give you a panic attack. what? what in the actual fuck? did you accidentally did something to divert the original story you yourself created? but you didn't even do anything! you tried to do your best to keep the interaction with him as short as possible and he dared to take an interest in you?!

"milady, a letter from the royal palace had arrived for you."

"discard it. throw it. keep it away from my sight."

"milady?!" Liz and the head of the maid exclaimed in utter shock at your nonchalant answer.

"forget about it, forget about it." you clasped your forehead in utter disappointment, yet your brain were creating another plan b for this unexpected turn of events. what should you do? even more so, what would you do now that the prince had asked for you to be by his side to the ballroom?

this won't do, you won't let this happen—you had to look as unattractive and ugly as possible for him to cringe on and finally divert his attention back to the rightfully person who deserved it; the female lead.

your maids could only fall apart every single time you pluck out the enchanting gems they attached on your hair, ears and wrists. their efforts deemed futile as always as you had no mood for any sort of events, it was like a slap to their face as you initially weren't like this. you overheard them that they couldn't get used to how you were adamant in staying behind the spotlight as you often did your very best in dressing yourself up before, with the sole intention of gaining the favour of men and even more better, a prince.

of course, they are totally oblivious to your real identity. only a series of jaw gaping one after another with your change of character, at first—you had a dilemma over whether you should act like the character you created but you later scrap the idea as soon as the anxiety of being engulfed in the crowd suffocated your chest. opting to avoid as many as balls or public events as possible, but that obviously didn't work out that well since you heard of the female lead's arrival from the country side—just like you intended it to be.

and being the proud mother (writer) you are, of course why wouldn't you take one single look at her and see of how far she had came? but alas, one interaction leads to another one and so on—till finally, you became her best friend throughout her entire journey. waiting for the male lead's arrival, and watch their romances blooming and per se—but oh well, look at the situation you were in right now; total disaster.

you truly despise being in such an extravagant puffy gown and the numerous accessories hugging your skin, it's tremendously uncomfortable that you wanted to rip it off part in front of the prince standing before you right now, and right here.

asking for your hand to dance with that odd kittenish smile, that you swore you had never ever written in his personality profile; he should never have been this casual and chill over a person he had just met. he should've been cold as fuck, icy to touch, and a spiralling disaster if you dare to talk to him, so why?

plus how could he have taken an interest in you? you couldn't possibly have added a dose of the love at first sight trope, didn't you? you despised that trope to your very core.

"milady? may i?" he extended his hand before you, patiently waiting for your answer.

you had decided that you're going to reject him quick and efficient—just like the local fast food restaurant your mouth kept drooling over for, smashing a five star review for their inhuman speedy delivery.

"you see, prince jungwon. i have no desire to have a connection with you, a relationship, as a matter of fact."

he raised his eyebrow, seemingly unfazed by your bold words. "i'm curious milady, why so? have i done something that perhaps had annoyed you?"

cliché question, you loathe that. "what if i said you did?"

"then tell me, milady. i'll try my hardest to own up to you—" he took a steps forward, which causes you to immediately step back as well with a frown on your face. you can't, not in this life, to even give him a single chance to get close to you. nah uh.

"no need, and stay one meter apart, please." you pointed your index finger towards the floor and he hesitated, but complied immediately.

"i." you raise your index finger back to yourself and then at him, "don't like you. do you understand?"

"b-but?"

"stop questioning me, prince jungwon." you stayed firm in your spot, "i believe it's a common decency to step back when a lady had voiced out her opinion, a prince like you certainly would understand, am i right?"

Jungwon was clearly taken aback, the fact that you didn't give him a single chance to utter a word nor take a step closer was a hard punch to his face. It feels as if he was trying to reach for you, but you efficiently dodged it with ease. It kind of.. annoys him.

"base on how you didn't say anything anymore, i assumed we're done here! well then, goodbye prince jungwon." you turned your heels towards the entrance, not bothering to waste any time at this goddamn ball. "i hope this will be the very last." you scoffed inside your mind, eager for the story to return to it's original route, and that the prince would soon deem you useless and such—returning to the female lead's arms.

hm, now where's your precious female lead? she should've appeared right now and right here, strike the pot while it's hot!

"i'm afraid i can't back down that easily, milady." jungwon took a few steps forward, wrapping his hand round your wrist as he spun you around to face his eyes filled with blazing determination. one that you specifically added on top of his profile so that your readers would kept it in mind.

your breath hitched down your throat as you remembered there's only two reasons he could have this; one that reminds you when he was at war, shouting at the top of his voice to encourage his soldiers as they push through the enemies, and another reason of it appearing is when he have to get what he wanted, or else all hell will break loose, chaos will ensue.

right, you're truly an idiot. staying a few years in this novel without any memories, and only for it to surface back when you stumble upon the library—dozens of books flickering a series of eccentric images in your mind. It had cause you to lose all memories of important details, only emerging everytime you are presented with a situation you couldn't comprehend. such as when you forgot that the female lead had memory problems and such.

"i'll only present this choices to you, milady. since you tremendously intrigued me over how well spoken you were and fascinating indeed—" bitch, you don't even know how you had the sudden ability to confront him but you were just sure as hell that you don't want to ruin your own novel. no fucking way.

you can't let him have the upper hand on you.

"let me go." irritated to your core, you tried untangle Jungwon's tight grasp on your wrist but he won't budge even an inch which only had you fuming in anger. "i said let me go, bitch!"

the crowd emits a series of gasps and murmurs as you spun around—twisting the prince's arms which had him yelping in pain, and ultimately pinning him onto the ground. with rage consuming you that nothing was going in your way, you slammed your hands on the both side of his head. clenching your jaw and gritting your teeth as you emphasised each word. "you are one a dumb hell of a bitch, when i said i do not want to see you anymore. i mean it. so—"

"so what?" his smug look resurfaces, one that emerges whenever he was being challenged. yes, do that! he should despise you, not take an interest in you! he should loathe you so much that he can't even gaze at you for a second. excitement surged through your veins as you open your mouth, preparing for the last blow.

"so, get lost. just because you're a prince doesn't mean every girl would fall for you, idiot."

an even more louder gasp emits from the crowd as they clearly heard what you said, their jaw gaping and some covering their mouths with their hands as their mind are now bombarded with random questions over how exceedingly brave you are to insult the royal prince, and of what fate will you met now that you've done such an atrocious act.

a low giggle sent shivers down your spine, and goosebumps to riled over your neck as you realise the prince under you had the widest smirk on his face. you frowned deeply, he shouldn't be smirking! he should be fuming in anger and throwing you out of the palace at this moment. so why?!...

"oh milady, how truly fascinating you are." you let out a loud yelp when he grabbed both of your wrists, pulling you closer to his face—a dangerous close proximity against his fluttering eyelashes and lips that your breath caught up in your throat which causes your cheeks to heated up in embarrassment of what kind of position you two were in right now. "i like you, you would certainly be a perfect fit to be by my side."

"what?!" you exclaimed, jaws dropping and eyes about to pop out at his very words. "i don't want to be by your side—"

"a lady like you, i'm afraid to say, intrigues me very much..." Jungwon shots a kittenish wink right through your heart. "be my wife, milady. i'll show you how good I can be for you."

#「 talesofyuan 」 fics #did i. a side character became the male lead's wife?!#enha #enhypen #enhypen x reader #enha imagines #enha x reader #enhypen oneshots #enhypen scenarios #enha fanfic #enhypen x female reader #enha fluff #jungwon smut #enhypen fluff #enha smau #enhypen jungwon #yang jungwon

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lxvvie · 2 months

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Throuples Shit with Alejandro Thee Stallion and Rodolfo Parra:

You and Rudy were the ones who broke the ice and asked Alejandro out. Or, rather, you told Alejandro that you three were a thing now. Alejo didn't complain much. It's not like you would've let him and he's a stubborn bastard when he wants to be.

Alejandro is in the doghouse more often than not because he's a consummate workaholic and if you let him, he will stay up all night and work.

Rudy is the one who balances you three out. Mostly. And then you learned that even he can get unhinged. And Rudy gets unhinged. Usually, this happens because of something the men did. Or maybe it's because that one shipment he's been waiting for FOREVER has been delayed. Again. Or the kitchen is dirty. Stuff like that. Alejandro's Rudy senses will go off and he'll calmly escort you away.

Rudy will also tell you how Alejandro actually used to be the more high-strung out of the two of them. Now that you can believe because some of those high-strung tendencies are still there.

Alejo's death glare is something to behold but have you ever seen Rudy's? Especially when you and Alejo are teaming up against him? And he knows he's right? Oh, it's death glares and the silent treatment for the rest of the day lmao.

You three have different covers to sleep under because Rudy gets cold easily, Alejandro usually sleeps under the sheets because comforters get a bit restrictive for him, and you're just... you. You'll also be forgiven for checking up on Alejo when he sleeps because he doesn't make a sound nor does he move. Rudy's the one who lightly snores and sleeps with a pillow over his head. The varying levels of bedhead are laugh-worthy.

Ironically enough, it's harder for Rudy to fall asleep than it is for Alejo. Give him a pillow and some space and he's knocked the hell out.

Most of the disagreements are between you and Rudy. Sometimes they'll center around Rudy not taking care of himself. Or which telenovela you binge-watched was better. Or how hot Valeria is. For the most part, Alejo sits on the sideline and lets you two battle it out. He'll chuckle when you're getting the best of Rudy, though.

When the going gets tough and things in Los Vaqueros start hitting close to home, you'll be sent to a safe house. They can't risk it. And yeah, you can argue them down but they'll still send you off.

Sex is equal parts fun and primal. Good stress relief. Alejo is the one who edges you. With his dick. Rudy is the one who'll slow-dick you to heaven and back. Rest assured, you'll also enjoy your fair share of laughter during foreplay with these two. Absolutely.

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nu11lar · 10 months

Text

𝓪𝓾𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓻'𝓼 𝓷𝓸𝓽𝓮 ... fuck now i can't stop thinking about satoru with a breeding kink 😔

𝓝 sfw ◞ mdni !

just the thought.

the thought of you having his kids drives him insane, fantasizing how your belly will swell up with his kids inside. oh he really wants to cum inside you over and over, to just slip off the condom away from this aching dick and fuck you raw will leave him on the brink of ecstasy.

your pussy is the gate of heaven for satoru.

and he will be vocal and whiny once he gets the chance to feel your gummy walls hugging him perfectly around his cock. he can't help it, it's too good for the strongest sorcerer to handle :( the both of you become a complete mess for eachother because for you: he fucks you extremely good, his thrusts quick and fast like his life depended on him but also sometimes being slow and sensual. and for him: your pussy leaves him absolutely whipped, like he can't get enough even after managing doing three rounds with you.

"haah- c'mon baby don't tap out on me yet, j-jus' a lil more yeah?"

"ohfuck yeah- sweet pussy suckin' me inn.."

he could never forget this one moment when you two were having sex.

you riding him in reverse cowgirl, whining his name over and over like a prayer as your hips bump and grind against his cock. slowly moving your hips as a warm-up as satoru momentarily guides your hips by rolling them against him, making him whine and groan. but before you could get into the intense part of you bouncing on his cock, you suddenly stop.

"babyy- why'd you stoop?" satoru whined as you turned your head over your shoulder,"wanna take this off.." you mumbled, lifting your hips up and down slowly again as it revealed his latex covered cock slowly seeping into your dripping and sopping cunt. he hummed before he got the memo quickly.

you want to take off the condom.

holy shit.

"y'wanna take off the condom?" he asked again, just to make sure he heard it right and that he wasn't hearing things,"mhm," you nodded, now completely pulling out his cock away from your pussy as your hand guided down to his cock. slowly and gently pulling the latex condom away from his cock, it was a little slippery since it was basically coated with your slick. satoru looked down with a surprised expression crossing his face, he wasn't expecting you to do or say that so suddenly. maybe you were silently craving to be filled with his cum.

with one final 'schlp!' you manage to strip away the condom from his length and satoru couldn't wait anymore. just as you were about to rub his tip onto your throbbing bud he immediately pushed down your hips without a warning, making you gasp loudly from surprise as satoru moaned from how you're so fucking warm, so tight.

you feel so good.

"oooh shiit- mm baby fuck... didn't know this pussy was so warmm," he slurred out, his brain becoming mush and his mind was blank as usual. his hands were plamed to your hips, enjoying the warm sensation of your pussy sucking in his cock so well and deep," s-satoruu! you can't just- shove it i-in like thaat!" you squirmed, furrowing your eyebrows as the feeling was too much for you to handle already. but overall, this was the best decision you've ever made, feeling your boyfriend's cock hit you raw made you feel cockdrunk. like a filthy slut.

as the night continued, he managed to finally stuff your pussy constantly and non-stop with his seed. leaving your body become in complete shambles. but it's okay, he's your boyfriend afterall, or should i say... soon-to-be dad.

#꒰ 🪷 𓂃 𝓔 mbla uploads .ᐟ #gojo x reader #gojo smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #gojo x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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mochinomnoms · 7 months

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Omg that’s so funny. Like the boys ask you to hold smth for them really quick and you put it in your boobs 😭😭😭

Azul would put you to good use and give you his random little trinkets he carries around

Malleus would be fascinated with how you figured you could hold all that

Leona would start putting his hand in them as a pocket to heat him up 💀💀

-🌑

YEAH TITTY POCKETS quick snippet before I go to bed:

Riddle was walking past the cafeteria when he noticed a small crowd forming around the table that the Prefect, Grim, Ace, and Deuce would normally sit at. A sense of dread filled him as he approached, positive that one of his freshmen was up to some trouble again.

So imagine his surprise when he walks up and sees a bunch of students, from various years and dorms, surrounding you as they handed you items. Imagine his even bigger shock when you, making direct eye contact with Riddle, smile at him as you take a small notepad from a random hand and stuff it into your breasts.

It takes a moment for him to realize that you've undone your tie and unbutton your shirt to reveal a healthy amount of cleavage, the hem of your white lacy (Oh heavens, he thinks it's lace, wait why is he looking!?) peeking at him.

“Oh, hey Riddle—”

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING!? YOUR SHIRT—DID YOU JUST—GAH!” Riddle launched himself over the crowd to clutch your shirt and tug it closed, face in his signature red.

“Hey! What's the big deal!” Riddle whipped his head over to see Ruggie pouting, holding a handful of granola bars.

“I was gonna see how many granola bars they could fit—”

“This is utterly indecent! Why are you allowing this Prefect? What even led up to this?!”

“Oh!” You perked up, grabbing and gently pushing his arms off you. “I was telling Ace and Deuce how I can fit up to 19 items into my boobs for storage, 10 if they're bigger. 3 if they're really big though, like a cell phone!”

He stared at you with confusion, flushing again as he saw you take three bars from Ruggie, adjust your…boobs, and start sliding the items in. As if this was a normal thing.

“Why are you acting like this is normal?”

“…. Because it is? Riddle, as someone with titties,” you ignored his scandalized gasp. “I gotta take advantage. These girls may hurt my back, but they also make excellent pockets. Look!”

You took a potion bottle from a different hand, smoothly sliding your hand down the side of your right breast. Taking a moment to adjust again, you stood up with your hands on your hips, looking proud.

“Look at my boobs and tell me how many items I have in them. Right now!”

Riddle gasped, “I will not, that is so, so, so indecent—”

“10!”

“25!”

“8!”

You snapped your fingers at a random Ignihyde student, grinning as you shouted, “Correct! You get a prize, lemme just—”

You took a moment to dig through your bra, as Riddle listened in to the students around him make comments.

“Is it wrong to find this hot?”

“Dude, why can't I have boob pockets?”

“Oh my goooood, am I into this? I think I'm into this.”

“That's actually kinda useful, not gonna lie.”

You cried out triumphantly, holding out a lollipop and handing it over to the Ignihyde student, who shrugged and accepted the candy.

“See Riddle? Useful, you can ask me to carry anything you want—”

“I will do NO such thing!” He scoffed, crossing his arms indigently, “I am a self-respecting housewarden of Night Raven College, and I'm offended at the implications that I'd do such a thing with your... you know.”

He gestured as Azul casually walked up, the crowd parting for him and the twins.

“Hello, my dear Prefect, can you hand me the spare punch cards I gave you? We ran out faster than anticipated this week.”

“Oh yeah, here” You dug through your left breast, taking out a small bundle of Mostro Lounge punch cards. “I ended up giving out a few to some guys, so expect a few new customers this weekend”

Azul smiled and nodded at you, taking the cards from your hand.

“That's fine, thank you, Prefect. I come by again later to grab the rest of my items.”

“Okie! See ya, byeee!”

You waved him goodbye, turning back to Riddle, who, once again, looked at you scandalously.

“… What?”

#mochi asks #twst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #riddle rosehearts #azul ashengrotto #ruggie bucchi #poor riddle is losing his mind while ruggie and azul just take advantage of the free storage #🌑 anon

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mo0nfairy · 1 year

Text

ᥫ᭡ . # ۫ , ⸺ UNCHAINED MELODY, PART THREE !

summary :: surviving raccoon city together, you catch the affections of leon kennedy, ada wong, jill valentine, and carlos oliveira. six years later, you reunite with them and realize their obsession with you has increased tenfold.

chapters :: the masterlist.

word count :: 6.4k

content warnings :: mdni! yandere!leon, yandere!ada, yandere!jill, yandere!carlos, suicidal themes, grief/death, weapons, violence, blood, maladaptive daydreaming, implied masturbation, drugging, kidnapping, unhealthy & unrealistic religious themes.

carlos oliveira's yandere traits are . . .

worshiper, delusional, & nurturing

──── Carlos Oliveira hates the scent of ink. Yet still, his hands are covered in the excess of the relentless use of such.

It stains everything. His ragged clothes, his fingers, the top secret documents he couldn't be bothered to care after. Despite his loathing of the material, it somehow seems to follow him with every step he walks. It doesn't take away the sheer relief he feels when he uses the same ink to jot down everything in his journal. While Carlos is far from home and occupied with his position as a Corporal, he fills pages upon pages of entries assigned to you. From how he swore he heard your laughter at lunch that day to obsessive hours spent writing your name over and over again, he finds it soothing, in an odd sense. Everything the ink touches revolves around you in some shape or form.

Y/N L/N. The name he will never forget.

Carlos remembers your aromatic sweat, your intoxicating breath, your perfumed skin; he will never forget how you ended his life in Raccoon City. It was persephonic, the last day of his life. Through the maze of chaos and gore, he found you, his little taste of heaven before he would face his demise. However, he is still shamefully alive. And selfishly, Carlos wishes that he had died that night. He should be grateful, as insinuated by the thousands of innocent lives lost and his family thanking the universe for sparing their boy. But, he just isn't. He can't, as much as he tries.

Even though his heart still beats, something within him has been dead for these past five years. He tries to heal his soul which decomposes with every day that goes by, but his efforts are brought to no avail. As much as he attempts to write out the fairytale he desperately wishes would materialize into reality, the truth sits and rots beneath a canopy of pretty lies.

You are dead and there is nothing he can do about it.

If Carlos thinks too much about it, he'll be brought to tears. And he can't afford another days-long meltdown filled with unruly sobbing and staggering guilt. He just can't. Instead, he defiles his brain with dreams of you that he deludes himself into believing are real. Writing his sweet spouse letters while he is away from home, buying you trinkets and clothes from foreign places, and leaving behind warm plates of food for you to enjoy. The truth of your well-being dances in the back of his head like a ghost in an attic. However, fully acknowledging you are gone would just about kill him. Carlos will prolong it as long as it can, no matter how fast the inevitable truth gains on him.

"My honey, My sweet, My lover. I will be home soon. Please wait for me, my bumblebee." Ink stains Carlos' fingers as he jots down yet another letter to you. He wonders if you also hate the way ink stains your fingers when you finally write back to him. His heart swells when he imagines you receiving his letter all safe and cozy in the home you share together. One day, he'll receive a letter back from you. The ghost of the truth lurks in the mind, but he turns his back to it. One day, he'll receive a letter back from you.

Five years without you and all that sunshine and wit he used to possess has depleted. Now, it's impossible to know when the ticking time bomb that is Carlos Oliveira may explode.

Unbeknownst to his peers, every emotion expressed is a manifestation of you, whether good or bad. After working the day away, Carlos becomes agitated after such treacherous hours without being able to bathe his mind in the light of you. The anger suffocates whatever room he walks into, causing the people within to recoil from the energy alone. No one has forgotten the time when a few colleagues had poked the bear after a single day Carlos spent unable to return to the thought of you. This inevitably caused an hour-long outburst of broken bones, furniture thrown about, and an eruption of unconsolable tears and horrifying threats. The memory still sends goosebumps across the skin of witnesses and no one has dared to cross the man ever since.

All Carlos needs is to venture back to the lustrous haven within his head. Just you and him, together in extraterrestrial bliss. It's all he needs, please let him have it.

All he needs is indulge in the heavenly sights of you at this moment. Instead of the blood-stained reality that is his life, let him spend his days out in the wild with you. Breezy Summer days where the sun beats down and soaks you in its golden, empyrean hues. Carlos sits with his back against the trunk of a willow tree and you lay on a blanket with your head resting in his lap. The enchanting, peaceful state he has found himself in is almost enough to lull him into a slumber. But, how could he dare shut his eyes when the astonishing sight of you sits right before him? Carlos traces his fingers among the tracings of sunlight that peek through the branches and rest upon your face. Beautiful. How irrevocably, indubitably, catastrophically beautiful you are.

A picnic out in an empty field where the day would be spent letting the world fall away as he looks down on the love of his life. Your lips, ever-so appetizing, are dusted with sugar from the numerous treats Carlos made for this exact date. His hand cups your cheek and he caresses your cheekbone with his thumb, your smile growing in response. And the way it tugs on his heartstrings is almost as if your mere happiness was playing him like a string instrument. He gazes at you with so much wonder, it's practically baffling how in love a man could be. You offer him a bite of the pastry in your hand, but he declines. The heat of the season's temperatures and the burning love within Carlos is more than enough to keep him satiated.

Safe, content, and alive with love. There couldn't be a more perfect way to describe this precious moment with you. Safe, content, and alive with love.

A hand waving in his face brings him back to his unforgiving reality. No more sunshine, no more birdsong, no more you. The dread that permeates his entire being could rival the pain of being stabbed in the heart. Carlos jumps in surprise and casts his eyes upward to find Tyrell, whose worried eyes peer at him through the glasses perched on his nose. His body is tense, terrified of treading over a boundary and causing another outburst. Only this time, he fears the several guards with syringes that were able to make him comply before would fail this time. And Tyrell wouldn't be able to escape Carlos' wrath with his life.

However, in the head of Carlos, he can't fathom why his colleague was suddenly so afraid of him. Maybe it was the way his expression was entirely unconscious. Maybe it was the way his eyes were wide and distant, in a completely different world. Maybe it was the way his lips would twitch into a smile that would be deemed creepy or maybe it was how he whispered unintelligible sentences under his breath. All of this remains unknown to Carlos, as he was far too busy in la-la-land to pay attention to his surroundings. Tyrell then motions to the ground, where Carlos finds how his pen had managed to roll across the floor and how his journal was now sitting face-down against the concrete. When did he drop those?

"Are you okay, man?" The question echoes as if he was standing miles away from him. Is he? Is he ok? These days, it never really feels like it. Only when he can escape to his paradise does he truly feel okay.

"You kept saying something. Over and over again." Carlos can barely render the words spoken by his friend.

"Y/N. Who is that-?"

Something snaps within Carlos. The fireworks you have ignited inside him have been snuffed out like a cigarette; the skipping of his heart trips over itself like a child sprinting down a jagged sidewalk. Your name alone sitting on someone else's tongue is more than enough to send him spiraling into an envious frenzy. You've never even met this poor man, but Carlos' brain infests his thoughts with visions of you and Tyrell together. This parasite paints images of you in the same field, in each other's arms, hopelessly devoted to one another. Happy with one another. And the stifling jealousy practically makes Carlos maniacal. It should be him, it should be him. He doesn't deserve it, but it should be him with you. Not Tyrell, never him, please not him please choose me please just choose me I will do anything baby please-

Carlos doesn't even think before he's swinging his right arm back and surging it forward to Tyrell's face. He can't win, he can't win, he can't. Permeating pain flashes like a flickering light and it courses through his entire arm. This sudden flare of weakness grants Tyrell the opportunity to block the attack before it lands. He now just stares at his friend in complete horror. Carlos falls to the floor of the infirmary and inspects the source of pain, finding that his right bicep has been covered in thick gauze. What was once white and clean is now tattered with blood-red stains. The memories hit him like a train. How could he have forgotten? Was he so caught up in his fantasies that he failed to recall what happened mere hours ago?

One of the most prominent and more so realistic fantasies (in his opinion) Carlos has is of you in heaven, watching over him like his own personal guardian angel. To finally accept your death would shatter him entirely, but to think of how your soul has lived on and is now living in promised eternal bliss calms his stuttering heart. His relentless acknowledgment of this fantasy has caused disastrous side effects, however. Behind the scenes, he has caught himself on many occasions contemplating death. To indulge in his demise and to see you on the other side, Carlos knows it shouldn't make him this exhilarated. Still, he continues to wallow in the celestial phenomenon of joining you in the clouds.

He refuses to fulfill these suicidal tendencies for the sole reason of how you'd perceive him afterward. You had ever so bravely lost your life to the wreckage of Raccoon City; you died a fucking warrior. Whom would Carlos be if he simply ended the torment by slitting his wrists? The echo of your voice barking of how much of a coward he'd be for killing himself over such dramatic, puny reasons makes Carlos recoil in shame. This obsession of his has accelerated to a degree where he'll purposely slack off during missions, hoping that he'll be fatally caught in the crossfire. A bullet through the brain and he'd wake up beside you, where you'll praise him for his bravery and how he died a hero.

To reunite with you — that is the only thing Carlos could ever want.

Today was no different. Yet, while his comrades shout for him to take cover and question why he is being such an idiot, it finally happened. Barrelling through the air is a bullet, which buries itself into the flesh of his right arm. The force sends Carlos to the ground. When others try to take hold of him and drag him to safety, he swats them off like they're nothing but pesky mosquitoes on a humid July afternoon. And he laughs so loudly and so manically, it could almost convince the enemy that the Corporal is secretly the Joker.

It all makes sense now. You had broken your right arm five years ago and now, Carlos has been shot in the exact same arm. This must be you! This must be your way of lending your hand through the sky, guiding him to join you in heaven! You are here with him and Carlos can't restrict the genuine smile and streaming tears from forming on his face. Now, however, the wounds your tender heart left have now been cared for. These doctors have defiled your mark on him; they have sullied the gift you have so kindly given him. And the fury that bubbles inside of Carlos in response is nothing short of harrowing.

Through the heaving breaths of the man he once considered to be his friend, Tyrell finally speaks up with a waver in his voice. "You-You need help, Carlos. I don't know who Y/N is, but-"

"YOU SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH!" Carlos' outburst explodes and the ringing of it settles like a blast wave. It bounces off the walls and reverberates through the ears of both men.

The anger is practically palpable. What Tyrell failed to notice through that rageful veneer was the pieces of Carlos' broken heart that lies beneath. With every passing second, this phantom within him reminds him of the state of your well-being. You're dead, you're gone, I won't see you ever again. With naivety Carlos excuses as the truth, he continues to ignore this voice. He has been stuck in a five-year-long chase with his logic and will continue running for five more if he needs to. And slowly but surely, this endless race is tearing him apart.

Tyrell leaves without so much as another breath. One question stays heavy on his mind, though. Whoever you are, Y/N, what the fuck have you done to him?

The patient must be given PTO to avoid another breakdown that could potentially accelerate into lethal violence — that was the "excuse" the doctors gave to the Sergeant regarding Carlos' wellbeing. This leaves him here. Alone and driving back to his estate. Meanwhile, his brain is blooming with iridescent fantasies he claims to be memories. Driving home to you after a long day of work and bringing you all the money and love you could ever ask for. He wonders, would you wait for him to come home? Would he find you asleep on the sofa, succumbing to your drowsiness before he'd be able to open the door? Or would you be in the bedroom? The soft glow of the lamp light framing your face as you peel back the covers, welcoming him into your idyllic embrace?

The tires of his car begin to skid off the road. Carlos is brought out of his imagination, where he then jerks the vehicle back into its proper position in the lane. You may just be the death of him, he muses. And when he finally arrives home, he tries to ignore the love letters he sent to you piling in the mailbox, the trinkets and clothes he bought you collecting dust, and the dinner he left for you that is now putrid and overwhelmed with mold. He tries to avoid how much it actually kills him. But still, this aching sense of dread rots in the pit of his stomach. It isn't until he glances at the calendar pinned on the wall does the devastation finally settle like fresh snow.

The date today was September 28th, 2004.

Six years.

It's been six years since he survived Raccoon City; it's been six years since he met you and lost you on the same night. This isn't the first revelation that comes to mind, though. Instead, he feels absolutely mortified by his own negligence. It's your sixth-year anniversary, how could he have forgotten? What kind of person, boyfriend, husband is he to forget this day? He should have brought home chocolate, flowers, shit, maybe even taken you on a month-long vacation to a resort across the world. God, how could he be so fucking stupid? You two could have been at each other's side during the most important day of the year (besides your birthday, of course). But no, he just had to get so caught up in his head that he forgot the anniversary of the day that made him the man he is today.

Another epiphany, one of the much more luminescent standards, hits Carlos once again. This must be why you had never written back to him. You aren't dead, you're simply upset with him! All the letters, all the gifts, all the plates of food, everything you have neglected — it was just your way of expressing your anger. Ha, take that, brain! And despite the circumstances, Carlos imagines the scowl on your face and is absolutely giddy from the vision alone. You're upset with him, yes, but you're alive. His sweet lover is here with a beating heart and an angry head. And God, does it make Carlos practically shiver with glee.

He then storms through his house, looking into every nook and cranny in search of you. "Y/N? Honey? Honey, it's me! Look, I know you're upset, but I promise I will do everything I can to make it up to you!"

"Where would you like to go? Hawaii? Paris? Shit, Italy? Wherever you'd like, Y/N!" With each room left devoid of you, that wrenching misery returns piece by piece and yanks on what is left of his heart. His voice begins to crack as he continues to shout for you. "Y/N, please! Please come out, honey! I'll do anything, Y/N... Please..."

Carlos then collapses to the hardwood floor, his body crushed with the sobs now protruding from his chest. Tears pour down his cheeks with uncontrollable force before landing on the ground beneath. And he cries so violently that he fears his ribcage may shatter from the force of it alone. He can't accept it, he can't, he can't, he can't. Even if this is what the rest of his life looks like, just veiling the truth with delusional fantasies, Carlos will never face the honest conclusion. He just can't.

"Please, bumblebee... I need you..." It's a final, desperate prayer. For your presence or for mercy, Carlos isn't exactly sure which.

He then digs beneath the collar of his shirt and fishes out the necklace he has worn for six years now. Swung upon a rusted chain is the charm of a bumblebee, the yellow and black shades now decayed with age. Carlos (as forgetful as he now realized he is today) will never forget when he first received the necklace. It was right before you had boarded the subway train that would eventually lead to your departure from life. How you enveloped him in your sugar-sweet hug and the way your natural musk sat on your skin still drives him nuts after all these years. The memory brings him great comfort on restless nights spent tossing and turning in bed.

At that moment, however, he never realized how constricting his hold was on you until he hears something snap. Opening his eyes and awakening from the stupor of his cartoon-esque infatuation, he finds how he had underestimated his strength and crushed the clasp of your necklace. The state of your beloved jewelry piece is left oblivious to you. Carlos wasn't given a second to process what had happened before you're peeling your arms off of him and boarding the train. In his hands are the remnants of the necklace you left behind.

The insect symbolizes perseverance, which he finds is a perfect way to describe his life today. Persevering through every day until he can finally let his body rest six feet under; persevering through every day until he can join his honey, his bumblebee through the gates of heaven. Carlos presses another kiss of millions to the pendant as he sits in his lonely house, pretending it is your skin beneath his lips instead of the rusted metal. His heart is shattered, his body is weak, and his brain is infested with every kind of mayhem he has ever known, but he will push through it. He will push through any and all kind of chaos knowing you are at the end of the finish line. Waiting for him.

The quick tune of an email alert brings Carlos out of his lovesick, grief-burdened daze. Suddenly being torn away from the thought of you makes rage flood through his veins. He stomps over to shut his computer off, maybe even throw the monitor against the wall in the process. When he catches a glimpse of what is on his computer, he hesitates. A loud gasp then escapes from him.

On his computer is an email from an old friend.

Carlos is able to fly into the country in less than twenty-four hours. He has to take several deep breaths in order to eradicate the black dots dancing in his vision as he races to Jill's apartment. Seeing her face and the present relief in her expression, the all-too-overwhelming revelation settles. Carlos is surprised he hadn't blacked out right there on her doorstep in response. It's time to finally get you back.

And just like Jill and Carlos had orchestrated after two weeks of planning how they'd release you from Umbrella's clutches, one sip of the cup of tea in your hands and you were out like a light. Your collapse was harsh, evident in the loud thud that permeated when you landed. Fortunately, you had your blanket-cape there to cushion your fall. It doesn't stop the two from bursting the bathroom door open and rushing to your aid, however.

Without your knowledge, Jill and Carlos then proceed to take you far, far away from the place you had once called home.

"What the fuck?"

Despite knowing you were sleeping soundly just several rooms over, your sudden presence still manages to have their breath locked in their throat. The way you look at one another contradicts each other in such discrete ways, it's almost comical. You're hyperventilating, staring at the scene in front of you with eyes blown in crazed shock. Six years of grieving through the most traumatic night of your life, why is it now you find out they have been alive this whole time? These two, however, stare into your soul with so much wonder, you're almost convinced they thought they were looking at some sort of mythological creature. It's almost as if they're hypnotized. No movement, no response — just pure amazement at the sight of you alive and looking at them with eyes full of life.

It isn't until you take a cautious step back does it trigger them to escape their state of captivation. You venturing further away from them, even just a pace — they can't let it happen. Never again. While Jill resorts to calmly approaching you as if you were a stray cat, Carlos makes an abrupt dash for you. You take several more steps backward before the man you presumed to be dead became inescapable. With another onslaught of tears brimming in his eyes and a whimper fleeing from his throat, Carlos practically tackles you into a tenacious embrace.

The hold he has on you is ridden with disbelief and desperation. He's shaking against your body like an Autumn leaf drifting through the wind. Burying his nose further into your neck, he inhales the musk that sits on your skin as if he had been trapped underwater and you were a pocket of air. God, Carlos wasn't even able to look at you for more than one second before he started blubbering like a baby. The man is so absorbed in the moment of finally reuniting with you, he almost misses it when Jill smacks him on his arm and growls through clenched teeth for him to "get his fucking shit together." But, Carlos refuses to budge. He is ready to beg Jill to let him stay here, to please let him revel in the fact that this isn't another fantasy someone will wake him out of.

He somehow nestles his face further into the crook of your neck and brings your body closer to his, almost as if he was trying to mold you together as one. And at this moment, Carlos has yet another revelation. Years upon years of imagining what heaven looks like, he was entirely incorrect. There are no clouds, no birdsong, no vibrant gardens. This. Right here in this moment, this is what heaven is. To have you, the partner of his dreams, so close to him is nothing short of heavenly. For six years, he has dreamed of this moment. And if he were to die at this moment, Carlos would be elated to know he died the happiest he has ever been in his whole life.

Meanwhile, you're thrashing in the tight hold of his constricted strength. It's almost hard for you to breathe with how hard he’s squeezing you. The woman you see over his shoulder is collected, but only a fool would miss the way her shoulders tense and nostrils flare with rage (and a sliver of possessiveness, too). She receives your silent plea and grabs a fistful of his mop-head of hair, using all the might in her arm to pull him away from his own bear hug. Carlos reluctantly loosens his grasp on your form. However, he then resorts to checking you for any and all signs of life.

The past six years have been spent dodging the logical answer to your disappearance. Now, however, the sight of you alive is just too good to be true. He begins thoroughly checking your body for a pulse, listening intently to any irregularities in your heartbeat. Anything to assure him you are actually alive and breathing. When every sign and question points to 'yes' over if you are here, Carlos can hardly contain it. Finally seeing you walking, looking, talking, alive — it's like the crescendo of a beautiful song.

Jill, as collected as she is, does not differ from Carlos' state of emotion very much. She has thought of this moment at least a million times, rehearsing every syllable and breath to make the moment all the more perfect. Now, however, every perceivable thought in her head was robbed the second you entered the room. How desperately she wishes to reassure your safety, inform you of the lies you were told, and vow to never let another soul lay a single hand on you ever again. But, with her racing heart and this grizzly bear of a man latched to you like a leech, her idea of the perfect reunion has been spoiled. Still, for six years she has longed for this. Whether it's a steamy kiss beneath the moonlight or caught in Carlos' mess of tears, she couldn't be more elated to finally have you again.

Much to your dismay, your empty stomach then grumbles its frustrations into the silent air. In response, your face grows warm in embarrassment. You had been so occupied with the current events and battling your shock, the dinner you had missed out on the night before had gone overlooked. The two, however, react much differently to your perceptible hunger than you. Without a mere second to waste, they're fawning over you as if you were some powerful deity and they were your humble, loyal servants. Their infantilizing treatment of you makes your skin burn with even more heaps of humiliation.

"Oh? Are you hungry? I've almost finished breakfast!" Carlos breaks physical contact to return to the stove and you have to restrain yourself from expressing your perceptible relief.

"I... I didn't have dinner last night." With an exhale of dry laughter, your attempt to lighten the mood only does the opposite. How could they have let you go hungry? They brought you here to care for you the way they deserve and they have already failed!

A gentle hand on your lower back causes you to jump in startlement. You find Jill beside you, who helps guide your trembling legs to the kitchen table. Though, it doesn't take a genius to notice the way her hand lingers. Finally free of any unsolicited touch, you sit down at the end of the table. The only way you can bring yourself to any state of ease is to ignore the relentless cooing of the woman beside you and the furious scraping of a spatula against a pan. Almost as if Carlos was speeding through the process of cooking in order to get back to you sooner. Jill then sits beside you, taking your hands into hers. Being free of physical contact was good while it lasted, you joke to yourself.

"You're real... You're real, my butterfly, you're real." Jill indulges in the reality of your genuine touch, before shaking her head as if to wobble her rationality back in place.

A plate is soon served before you. And it is easily the most delectable dish you had ever seen; it looked like something straight out of a magazine, despite the frivolous efforts made by the chef. A gourmet omelet sits in front of you, steam pervading the air in invading your nostrils with its mouth-watering aroma. Adorned with spinach, tomato, and feta cheese, you could have easily downed the delicious serving in one gulp. Nausea swaying in your stomach like a boat on sea prevents you from doing such. You thank Carlos through stuttering breaths and almost miss the way his body softens from receiving your gratitude.

Always so possessive, Jill reverts your attention back to her. "There is so much you are unaware of, Y/N. But, we're here to help. You don't have to be afraid a second longer." Her reassurance does little to calm your nerves. "Right, Carlos?" He only nods weakly, completely dazed as he stares at you in adoration. Had he even heard what she said?

"We will not let anything happen to you." The gravity of her statement practically touches your bones with its weight. It scares you, the severity of the declaration.

Terrified of angering them (even though there is not a single thing you could do that would ever irritate them), you grasp the fork laid out for you on the pristine table. Your efforts are halted by Carlos, who sits down beside you, opposite of Jill. To satiate his gnawing need for you to be close, he pushes his chair to touch yours until you are both shoulder-to-shoulder. After all, you must be so terrified upon being kidnapped by such an evil corporation. It is his touch and comfort you need to lull you back into a place of tranquility, he's sure of it.

Carlos then takes the fork from your hands, nearly passing out when your thumb grazes his hand. To your horror, he plucks some food onto the utensil and holds it up to your lips, ushering you to let him feed you. Almost as if this was some romantic anniversary or something. Reluctantly, you open your mouth and let him place the bite of food on your tongue. And you would be a liar if you said this wasn't the most delicious meal you have ever eaten. Your tastebuds adorned in succulent food and flavorful seasoning, you joke that this dish is compensation for all the turmoil this morning has brought.

Slowly, as Carlos was painfully milking the moment for as long as he could, your hunger is satiated. The joy he garners from merely feeding you radiates off of him like a campfire against the dark night brume. Once the plate is wiped clean of even the smallest crumb (despite your assurances to him that you were full), Jill then wipes the corner of your mouth with her thumb. Your holy attention is reverted back to Carlos when he pokes your lips with a straw, once again, ushering you to let him nourish your stomach. "To wash it down" he excuses, with far too much exhilaration hanging heavy in his tone.

Indulging in the cold, fresh water as it cascades down your throat, you miss how Jill brings her thumb, now adorned with bits of food and your saliva, into her mouth. And she just relishes in the absolute taste of you. Her vision goes hazy and her eyelids droop from the ecstasy. She would have let herself completely fall into the arms of enrapturing oblivion if it weren't for the fact you were right beside her. Carlos takes notice, however, and a sneer forms on his lips as he looks at her in disgust. Jill bites her tongue, holding herself back from pointing out how he is no different. So easily, she could inform you of how after your intimate bath together, she found him inhaling your sweater with his eyes rolled back into his skull and his hand stuffed into his pants. If she were to voice this, however, the man would easily throw himself over the table and attack her like a feral animal. She can handle him, but you don't need even more stress.

Upon being thrust into the middle of this mess, the only thing you can do is watch as the obsession of Jill and Carlos play out before your very eyes. And the physical manifestation of your return has caused disastrous consequences. Six years and you're ashamed to say you have forgotten what their facial features looked like. The memory remains as a blurred, distorted mess of blood and grime. An expression of all the trauma you all have endured. Now, however, you'd be damned if those were two expressions you could ever forget.

Carlos and his dark goo-goo eyes, adorned in overwhelming heaps of drowning devotion that could swallow you whole with one glance. They're affixed with teardrops, adding onto everything cherubic, holy about the way he looks at you. Despite the sheer display of sadness leaking from his eyes, his lips exhibit the biggest, most genuine smile you have ever seen in your life. The way he looks at you, it's almost as if God himself had descended from the heavens and graced Carlos with his presence. All from just the mere act of feeding you. It was deranged, you thought to yourself.

His smile vanishes, eyebrows raising as something seems to click in his head. He then takes your right arm gingerly into his grasp, fingers treading amongst the field of goosebumps blossoming on your skin. "Your arm, you poor thing... Are you okay, honey?" The worry in his voice makes you shiver with convulsion. It takes you several seconds to compute that he was referring to the injury you endured six whole years ago.

Jill and her cheeks that are blazon in hues reminiscent of two ripe cherries, appending a sort of childish innocence to her always-stoic expression. The way her eyebrows furrowed and eyes narrowed displayed a sense of fury — presumably toward the man clinging onto you like a lifeline. When she looks at you, however, her features perceptibly soften as if beams of sunlight had enveloped her after years of being in the depths of Winter. It was deranged, you thought to yourself.

"You... You kidnapped me..." Even through all the violence and torment these two have endured, nothing had cut deep than those three words. The waver in your voice, the emotions brimming in your eyes, the trembling frown plastered on your lips. God, it killed them right then and there.

They begin to ramble and deny your accusation. All as if it wasn't a lie coming out of their mouths. And in their heads, it was anything but a lie. They truly believed that they saved you as if it was a genuine fact. Somehow, they manage to inch closer to you. The empty air around you becomes suffused with their waving hands and panicked explanations. All to convince you that they would never hurt you. Never.

"You're upset, Y/N, we understand. But you have to know that this was for your own good!" Jill remains the voice of reason, if that's what you would name it. Meanwhile, Carlos throws shambles of assurances such as, "It's not true!" and "I need you!" your way, hoping that something, anything will mend your fears.

And poor you. So confused, so terrified, so bewildered. All you could want at this moment is to go back twelve hours ago. To leave with your friend the second they entered the room, to scrutinize what in your home had caused you to black out, to burst down the front door and beg the the surrounding security guards to save you. Even though the truth of your “home” simmers just beneath the surface, itching to claw its way out, you still find yourself aching to go back to the way things were. Even if it is all just a fat lie. Anything is better than this.

Miles upon miles away, the three of you are completely unaware of the fourth presence treading closer to their secret. Suspicions high, Tyrell can't help but use some of his free time to venture into why Jill and Carlos had suddenly vanished. For the umpteenth time, he looks through more footage from the security system Jill was so insistent on receiving. And what he finds is horrifying. The two people he had once considered his friends were seen climbing through a window, to where they escape moments later with an unconscious body.

A flare of guilt spreads through him. Unwillingly, he had actively played a part in this. Whoever you were, he felt inclined to take full responsibility for helping these two take this innocent life away. To be kidnapped, murdered, he doesn't know. What Tyrell does know, however, is that he feels to be partially blamed for this. When he does further research, his heart sinks even deeper into the pit of his stomach. Reports of a missing patient were sent around the establishment. Y/N L/N, a potential runaway was actually the body nestled tight in Carlos' arms. He remembers how he had spoken that name and the reaction it garnered from Carlos; he remembers seeing the name on the door of the room Jill relentlessly paid him to receive footage of.

With that, Tyrell reports the incident. An investigation commences and two major clues are found. A shattered mug that had been filled with sedation-induced tea and specks of blood on the bathroom floor that have been tested positive for matching one of the assailants. Now, a manhunt is in play for Jill Valentine and Carlos Oliveira.

At his desk that was overwhelmed with littering documents, Tyrell eavesdrops on a conversation between his two colleagues.

"You won't believe who they've gotten to take over Carlos' spot for this mission!"

"Who?"

"Leon Kennedy."

⁺ 🎧 , 🪷 ۫ you are currently listening to . . . ⁺ 🪺 , 🎵 ꪆ

THE BONUS TRACK !

❝ WE WERE WILD AND FLUORESCENT

COME HOME TO MY HEART . . . ❞

this is what i imagined the necklace carlos stole borrowed from you to look like. however, you can imagine it as whatever you'd like!

1K notes · View notes

mamsieur · 11 months

Text

Don't mess with the Storm | Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader

Summary : Sometimes, Cyclone could live up to his call sign. Especially when it concerned you, his youngest daughter, his little Storm.

TW : slight violence, mention of alcohol, family/domestic fluff

Length : 6753 words

AN : You can't make me believe that Beau Simpson isn't a family man with lots of kids. That's what he radiates.

posted on AO3 August 21, 2023

Your mom always said you took after your dad, but if he was a Cyclone, you were a Storm ; smaller and less destructive. Storm has always been your nickname.

It described you quite well as much in your way of doing things than in your personality. You were passionate about everything you did and you often left a mess after you.

Being a Vice Admiral, Beau managed to control himself for his work but when it came to you and your well being, he could literally destroy everything on his way. Not that your father was in any way abusive or violent, but he sometimes could over react.

You were your parents’ precious little baby.

You were the youngest of four children; you had three older brothers, all in the military. Two of them, Nathan and Jamie, were naval aviators, like your father, and one, Aaron, was a Marine Officer.

Needless to say, you were well taken care of ; you liked to think that you had a small ‘army’ for yourself.

But as much as they thought of you as their little princess, they never treated you like one, and you never wanted to be. You were tough and very capable of defending yourself. Your father always encouraged you in whatever you wanted to do.

You wanted to join the soccer team? Let's go. Switch to boxing lessons? Done. A new passion for karting? He had your back. An interest in mechanics ? He bought you your first tool box.

As long as you put your heart and soul into whatever you did, your family would support you.

So when you told them you wanted to work for the Navy after your engineering degree, they were as supportive as they could be.

You were a genius engineer - your mom’s word, not yours - and you loved working on jets, inspecting them, gathering as much data as possible to make them as efficient as they can be. Working at Top Gun was heaven. Since the pilots were supposed to be the best, you loved pushing them and their machines to be better and better.

Of course, the fact that you were working on the same base as your father had raised some eyebrows. But neither of you cared, and he got you no special treatment.

After the uranium mission, you were assigned to check the status of the Dagger Squad's F-18s. Everything seemed to be in good shape, and while your computer analyzed the flight data, you inspected the engines. You liked to work alone when you could, it helped you stay in your bubble of concentration.

The sun was slowly setting as you finished diagnosing the last jet. Being alone in the hangar, you took the opportunity to put on some music. You hummed and swayed a little while you waited for the analysis to finish on your screen and inspected the engine.

Your head was - quite literally - in it when you heard footsteps behind you. They stopped a few feet away from you to let you finish what you were doing.

"I'll just be two minutes," you muttered and then shrugged, getting no response. You finished inspecting the seemingly defective part and stood up. Your face was covered in dust and motor oil, and your hair was starting to fall out of your ponytail.

You sighed and turned to your mysterious guest.

"Oh! Good evening Lieutenant Bradshaw. May I help you?" you smiled a little and wiped your forehead with the back of your hand.

"Good evening Second Lieutenant Simpson, to tell you the truth, yes, you may..." he grinned charmingly, crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the plane, "I was wondering if you'd forgotten our date? It's 7:20, and we agreed to meet at 6:30 ?”

You stopped smiling and looked at the clock. Crap! You hadn't seen the time.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry! I was servicing the jets and didn't realize what time it was! I should have set an alarm, I'm sorry. Jesus, how could I be so stupid?"

You were starting to mumble excuses as you gathered your things when you felt his hand on your wrist.

"It's okay, I know how you get when you're focused on something. We’ll find another day for that. I'll wait for you at the bar, okay?" he reassured you with a grin.

"Uh yeah, yeah okay! I'll be quick!" you nodded and smiled back at him. He tucked a strand of your wild hair behind your ear, a few inches from you, making you blush slightly. His thumb stroked your cheek. He had that cheeky smile he always had when something was on his mind. He took your hand and kissed your knuckles, his beautiful brown eyes never leaving yours.

" Or , I can also wait for you in the changing-"

" Lieutenant Bradshaw, Second Lieutenant Simpson, what are you two still doing here? "

Your father's stern voice echoed through the hangar, taking you by surprise. Bradley took a quick step back and straightened his posture to greet him.

"I, uh-"

"Lieutenant Bradshaw forgot his keys, sir, he was out. I got carried away with the diagnostics, I'm almost finished here," you replied quickly as Cyclone’s eyes narrowed as he stared at Bradley then at you.

"Hm. You better hurry then, Second Lieutenant, overtime is not allowed. You're free to go Lieutenant Bradshaw."

"Yes sir!" you said in unison and Bradley left as quickly as he could, flashing one last smile in your direction before disappearing down the corridors.

As you started to clean up the mess you'd made, you heard an amused sigh.

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing. You're still living up to your nickname."

"Ha ha, very funny Dad," you rolled your eyes and closed your toolbox, "Don't wait for me, I'm going out tonight."

"Mmh. Is Bradshaw involved?" he asked as he helped you carry your stuff to the storage room.

"Yes? I mean the whole Dagger team is, I need to get to know them to understand how they work."

That was only half a lie. You knew they most likely were all at the Hard Deck, you'd met them there a few times. You got along well with them, especially Natasha, Bob and Mickey. And of course, Bradley... But it was different with him.

You'd known him for years and your very first assignment had been with him. Your friendship had evolved over the years into a kind of friends-with-benefits/fuck-buddies relationship until a few weeks ago. Since the uranium mission, he wanted more than that, and so did you. You two tried to keep your relationship secret because you suspected it could jeopardize either of your careers, and mostly because you knew your father would not approve.

He always thought the guys you dated were not good enough for you. And as annoying as it was, he was always right. He scared away some of them and when you thought back about it, it's a good thing he did.

Truth be told, you have been in love with Bradley for so long that sometimes it hurted.

You had tried to tell him so many times in the past, but you were afraid of losing what little intimacy you had with him. So when he asked you out, first thing after the uranium mission, it felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. The hope that your feelings would be reciprocated had invaded your heart and mind, and you felt like it was the first time you were in love. It wasn’t of course, but you were all giddy about it.

You didn’t like to lie to your dad, he knew you too much to know everything in just one look.

But it was worth it, wasn’t it ?

You hoped it was.

After a well-deserved shower, you changed into clean, comfortable clothes that actually suited you. You put on your helmet and rode to the bar with your motorbike. Your mother hated when you used that ‘death machine’ and your father wasn't really fond of it either. It reminded him of Maverick. He wasn’t fond of Maverick. It always made you laugh watching your dad trying to remain calm in front of the Captain. You’ve never seen a man getting on his nerves that much.

The Hard Deck was already busy when you parked ; a totally normal Friday night , you thought. Looking around, you spotted Natasha’s, Javy’s and Bradley’s cars.

Penny nodded at you with a smile as you entered. The Daggers were in their usual places and Bradley seemed to be winning the pool game against Jake. In a desperate attempt to break his concentration, Jake chuckled, "Your girlfriend's here, Bradshaw”.

The whole team had discovered your relationship, of course, but swore to keep it a secret. You were grateful to them, but Jake being himself, he couldn't resist taking a dig at you.

You rolled your eyes and took a seat next to Bob, watching the two eternal rivals finish their game. You caught up with Mickey and theorized with him on the last episodes of Kenobi then made your way towards Penny at the bar to buy your round of beers. As you waited for your drinks at the counter, you felt two hands around your waist.

"You're late, Second Lieutenant ."

"Had to fix your teammates’ jets, Lieutenant , tell them to be more careful," you grinned, leaning your back against your boyfriend's torso. You heard him chuckle softly as he whispered that you were an ‘idiot' and kissed the top of your head.

"Sorry about our date, I'll make it up to you."

"You bet your sweet ass you will," Bradley snickered at the squeal you let out as he spanked you a little, “But right now, you owe me a dance to celebrate my victory against Hangman.”

He took your hand as you rolled your eyes but followed him. Your whole body pressed against his, arms around his neck, the room faded away. All you could feel and see was him; one of his hands on the small of your back, the other on your hip, guiding you. The warmth of his body was like a spell that kept you close, not wanting to let go.His hands roamed down your back making you shiver. It felt like you belonged there.

You couldn’t let go of his eyes, hypnotized. He had such beautiful eyes ; those hazel brown orbs were magnetic, so infuriatingly charming.

One of your hands gently stroked his scarred cheek and he leaned into your touch, smiling like an idiot and humming the song you were slow dancing to. His smile always sent butterflies to your stomach and heat to your cheeks. It was almost annoying how easily you fell for his charms.

The two of you danced until the song ended and you pulled him by the collar to kiss him. You felt his hands slip into the back pockets of your jeans, shamelessly squeezing your ass, and his proud grin against your lips. You bit his as you pulled away from the kiss.

"Okay, lovebirds , get a room," Jake complained and you flipped him off, still in Bradley's arms.

"Don't be jealous Jakey, your time will come," you teased, making your partner chuckle.

"She's right Seresin, just wait till you're a big boy."

The evening continued quietly, with one beer after another, a few games of darts and pool, and a few songs on the piano for Bradley.

You watched him from the bar, mesmerized, an affectionate smile on your face. You still wondered how you'd managed to get his attention; this man could have anyone he wanted with his smile combined with a little song, the sweetness with which he spoke, his sarcasms, his eyes so soft and intense at the same time, his stupid, stupid, cocky grin... God, you were definitely and undoubtedly under his spell, mind and heart.

Your eyes never left his form for more than five seconds. You looked at him as if you wanted to learn every aspect of his physique; but to be honest, you already knew him by heart.

You could locate every beauty mark, every scar - and tell its story - and where his birthmark was. You could describe every shade of brown in his eyes, depending on the light or his emotions. You knew every expression on his face; when he was angry, frustrated, sad, or playful. You knew exactly where and how to touch him to make him putty in your hands, every positively sensitive area and those to avoid.

And yet, every time you looked at him, behind the piano, laughing with his friends, you discovered a new detail that made you love him even more.

The way he cared for all of them - even Jake, his "archenemy" - and knew just what to do to make them feel better and laugh. How he always listened to what they had to share, good or bad, and offered to help. How he'd always protect them as if they were his siblings, his rather hazardous family.

Speaking of hazardous family, it always made you laugh how Bradley could be so like Pete and like your dad. It was sometimes a mixture of arrogance and calm, defiance and seriousness. Part of you was sure that if they tried, your dad and Bradley would get along. But were they willing to ?

As you were lost in your thoughts, you didn’t notice a man, a little younger than you, sitting next to your stool. He started talking, trying to flirt, but you didn’t really pay attention, still absorbed by your boyfriend’s silliness, until he clicked his fingers in front of your face.

“Hey, ‘m talking to you doll. You should really pay attention when someone is talking to you, got it ?”

You sipped your beer and looked at him out of the corner of your eye. He continued his flirtatious attempts, bragging that he was one of the best in his class at Top Gun. He kept trying to get your attention by snapping his fingers or grabbing your arm. His breath was clearly too close to your face and stinked a mixture of beer and chips.

It really started to annoy you, so it was your turn to snap your fingers in his face.

"I'm not interested,” you snapped your fingers again, “If a girl ignores you, it's because she doesn't want to talk to you, got it ?"

You got off your stool, ready to join the Daggers by the piano. But a hand gripped your wrist and the man pulled you close to him. You could see a hint of anger and annoyance in his eyes, but it didn’t scare you. You were used to guys like him, thinking they own every woman they see.

“Listen doll, I was nice until now. Give me your number and I’ll forgive you,” he grinned, his buddies sneering behind him, as if they were proud of him. You couldn’t help but giggle at the scene. What kind of bad joke was that ?

In one swift motion, you released your wrist and pinned his arm behind his back. You bent him violently over the bar and locked him in that position, pressing down just enough to hurt and immobilize him.

"One false move and I will dislocate your arm," you threatened in his ear as a few glances turned in your direction. "Now listen to me carefully. This is the last time you'll talk to me or any woman like that. Understood?"

He grunted and struggled a little. You pressed harder and repeated, "Understood?"

"Okay! Okay, I understand! Get off me!"

The man growled again and you finally let go. Penny gave you a look that you understood as a warning and you smiled innocently to her. The man and his group walked away with a grunt, giving you one last murderous look. You smiled broadly and made a mocking curtsy.

Bradley raised an eyebrow as they passed him, muttering that you were a "crazy bitch". You joined him with two beers, one for him and one for you.

"What happened?"

"Nothing to worry about, just some big macho guy. He didn't like that I wasn't paying attention to him. I just put him in his place."

You shrugged with a smile and Bradley shook his head, laughing a little, knowing exactly what you meant. He put his arm around your waist and kissed your temple.

"I know you can defend yourself, but don't get yourself in trouble, Stormy."

"Don't worry, if I get in trouble, my knight in shining armor will come and rescue me, won't he?" you teased. He chuckled but nodded before taking you on his lap at the piano. He started a new song that had the remaining customers singing and dancing.

***

The end of the evening was a bit hazy.

You'd had too much to drink to get back on your bike, so it was Bradley who drove you home. You pulled your boyfriend into your small house - he offered no resistance - and kissed him as if your life depended on it, as if that simple contact made your heart beat. His hands roamed your body with hunger, and yours tore his Hawaiian shirt from his back. You thought of nothing but Bradley, his soft lips devouring your jaw and neck, leaving a few marks where he passed, his hands so warm on your skin, his breath making you shiver.

You wandered back to your room, kicking off your shoes, and your clothes ended up in a pile at the end of your bed.

You loved doing it with Bradley. He gave you everything you wanted and so much more. You'd never been as fulfilled as you were with him. It was as if he knew everything about how your body worked, that it held no secrets for him.

Your nightly activities have drained you both of what little energy you had left, and you fell asleep hugging each other, as if afraid the other will evaporate.

The next morning, it was not your massive headache that woke you, but the sound of several cars and children laughing outside your house. What day was it? Was it Saturday? It was Saturday!

You jumped to your feet as Bradley mumbled something unintelligible.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!" You shook your boyfriend and wrapped yourself in a blanket as you heard the sound of a key turning in the front door lock.

"Bradley, get up!"

"Mmh, five minutes..." he mumbled, burying his face in the pillow. You heard the door open and small footsteps running toward your room. You panicked and shook him harder.

"We don't have five minutes! Get your ass up!"

You grabbed the first thing you could get your hands on: panties and Bradley's tank top. You stumbled to your bedroom door to get out before one of your nephews’ innocent eyes discovered their aunt and a man they didn't know naked as worms in her bed. You tried to look as natural as possible as you quickly closed the door behind you. Standing in front of you was Jack, your three-year-old nephew. He was Nathan’s, your oldest brother, son. He laughed as he threw himself on your legs to give you a hug.

"Oh my God, hi sweetie! You're early!"

"Dada said we'd surprise you, Auntie! And Pop-Pop is here too!" the little boy laughed.

"What a nice thought!" you tried not to sound too ironic as you picked him up to give him a kiss and rearrange his wild blond hair. "Auntie needs to get dressed, okay? Go wait with your dad in the living room!"

You gave him one last kiss and made sure he ran to the living room before storming back to your bedroom. How could you forget that your brothers were visiting today? You were so screwed! A million thoughts went through your head and one thing made you snap out of it; Bradley yawning and taking his sweet time getting up. You grumbled and attacked him with a pillow.

"Hey! What was that for?"

"We're in deep shit Bradley! My whole family is here! They weren't supposed to be up this early!"

"What?" he blinked and narrowed his eyes, trying to process what you'd just told him. You started to rattle on about how your brothers got their permission for your mom's birthday, but your brothers were here super early with their wifes, their kids, and your mom and dad. Bradley had trouble following what you were saying because you were talking really fast.

“Babe,” he tried to interrupt you, but you kept mumbling and pacing next to the bed, “Y/N, baby, calm down!”

He grabbed your wrist, pulling you to sit in front of him. His free hand cupped your cheek tenderly as he guided you into breathing to calm yourself down.

“Okay… mind explaining slower what is happening here ?”

You sighed and nodded before re-explaining the whole situation to him. “But they weren’t supposed to come here this early ! The surprise lunch for my mom was supposed to be at home, not in my flat ! And my dad is here. My dad ! What are we going to say ?”

You cursed again, rubbing your temples. Bradley took your hands in his to make you look at him and stole a kiss from you. You sighed against his lips, your tension going away slightly. He then pressed his forehead to yours, stroking your cheeks to soothe you.

“How about we get dressed and just… join them in the living room ?”

“You really want to face my dad ?” you raised one eyebrow, surprised but really relieved that he didn’t propose to just sneak out.

“Yeah ? I mean, the man already has doubts, you’ve said it yourself… and it’s your mother’s birthday, your whole army of men won’t be able to kill me. Not today at least.”

You chuckled at his joking tone and at the silly smile he has on his face. You pecked his lips with a grin. “Okay then Lieutenant , let’s get dressed.”

“Yes ma’am!”

He gave you one last tender kiss, and when the two of you went to get up, a little giggle made you both freeze.

“Auntie who that ? And why he nakey ?”

Your nephew’s voice asked. He was standing by the door, a playful smile on his chubby face, and his little finger pointing at your embarrassed boyfriend. Bradley quickly covered himself more, lifting the sheet at his chin, and you ran to get little Jack in your arms.

“How did he get here ??” Bradley scream-whispered at you, hiding himself while trying to get dressed.

“I don’t know !” you scream-whispered back before turning your attention back to the toddler who was babbling in your arms, “Jack, honey, why aren’t you with your dad and pop-pop ?”

Before he could answer, your sister in law was by your bedroom, apologizing. She didn’t notice Bradley right away, but when she did, a small cheeky smile curled on her lip.

“Hi there, sorry to have him interrupted you two.”

“Annie, it’s not what it looks like-” you blushed when you understood what she implied but Bradley interrupted you by presenting himself and shaking her hand with a wide smile. They chat while you put on a pair of jeans, keeping on Bradley’s tank top. Never in your life had you been this embarrassed.

Little Jack looked at your boyfriend with wide-eyed wonder. He loved meeting new people, and Bradley seemed fascinating to his young eyes. It was no wonder when every time Annie spoke to you, Bradley would make faces at the little boy and make him giggle.

Bradley already had him in his pocket, so that was a good thing. Annie seemed to like him too, at least you thought so from the mischievous looks she gave you.

As you crossed the hallway to join the rest of your family, a wave of nervousness ran through you. You grabbed Bradley by the sleeve of his Hawaiian shirt and turned him toward you. You pulled him into a hug to relax and to give yourself courage.

"Promise you won't hate me?"

"Why would I hate you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"They'll probably try to impress you, my brothers I mean... and my dad... you know how he can be..."

"Oh honey... It takes more than that to scare me. I'll be fine."

He kissed your forehead and you walked into the living room.

You greeted everyone, your father not immediately aware of Bradley's presence. You introduced him to your brothers first, Nathan, Aaron and Jamie, and they didn't do anything strange at first; they were probably waiting for you to introduce him to your father to see what sauce to cook him in.

Beau and Vivian, your mother, were too busy admiring your niece, five-month-old Juliet, to notice Bradley's presence. She was fast asleep in the arms of Jamie's fiancée, Alice. She greeted you with a smile when you waved.

"Awake at last, Stormy?" your father asked before freezing and losing his smile at the sight of your boyfriend, " Lieutenant Bradshaw. ".

His cold, hard tone made you sigh a little as the two men shook hands in greeting.

“Good morning Vice Admiral Simpson.”

They were way too formal, it was ridiculous. Your mother had the same reaction as you and introduced herself to Bradley with a warm smile and a hug.

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Simpson."

"Oh, please, just call me Viv!" she laughed a little, waving her hand. Then she turned to you, discreetly gave you both thumbs up and winked at you.

Good. Bradley seemed to have charmed your mother with just a smile.

Still, you could feel your father tense up behind you as Bradley got to know everyone. He remained very polite and smiled, even letting Jack, Oliver and Tommy - Aaron's twin sons - pull him out to play in the little garden. Your father grabbed your arm. "Kitchen. Now. We need to talk." He seemed a little upset, and you could understand; you'd lied to him.

"Care to explain yourself?" He crossed his arms on his chest, a stern look on his face.

You didn't like that look. He used to have it when he scolded you when you were a teenager, when you would sneak out of the house to go to a party or to meet up with your then-boyfriend. For a moment, you were 16 again, caught in the act.

You sighed at his insistent and questioning look.

"I uh... He’s... we’re... we've been seeing each other for… a few weeks..."

"A few weeks? So you've been lying to me for weeks?"

"I haven't lied! At least not completely..." you mumbled, biting your fingernail.

"Y/N. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Seriously Dad? You've made it pretty clear that you don't really like him, I mean outside of work."

"I never said that."

You widened your eyes, shocked at his bad faith.

"Are you kidding me? You've made it clear that you don't want me around him because he's too much like Maverick! Every time I mentioned him, you made your… disapproving face. The same one you made every time I mentioned my old boyfriends, or when I wanted to get a motorcycle, or when the boys tried to bleach their hair in high school !"

"I don't have a disapproving face," he grumbled, "and it's not because he’s like Maverick that I don't want you around him, it's because he can be called back on a mission at any time. I don't want that to break your heart."

"Oh ! But it's okay for Nathan, Aaron, and Jamie to break the hearts of their partners? Of their children? It was okay for you to risk breaking Mom's heart and ours? What kind of cardboard argument is that, Dad?" You raised your arms in disbelief as you started to walk out of the kitchen, but you stopped and turned back to face him. "I know you want to protect me, but... you can't do that about things like that. I know you know better than anyone the risks of this job, the sacrifices it requires. But Bradley knows them as well, if not better, than you do. And as much as it scares me, as much as it scares us... we want to try… And even if you don't like it, we'll give it a try. Because I almost lost him once without really being able to be with him..."

Your father sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. From the kitchen window you could see Bradley playing with your nephews, under your mother's and in laws’ amused and tender eyes. A small smile crept across your lips as the little ones called you over to help hold Bradley down. You hurried to join them, and your mother joined your father.

"Our boys and the little ones seem to like this Lieutenant…”

“Seems like it…”

“He reminds me a little of you when we first met..." Vivian chuckled to Beau as she hugged him.

"Really?" the man wondered, "and how?"

"Well, he has that same sparkle in his eyes... the one that calls for adventure, that gentle and loving look when his eyes land on our Storm... and he's also very good with children," she laughed at his slightly embarrassed expression, "You should give him a chance... our princess looks so relaxed with him... look at her… look at her smile…"

He lifted his head and watched the two of you having fun with the three little boys and sighed. His wife was right. You looked so happy in Bradley's arms, waltzing and laughing with the kids. He'd never seen you look so radiant, as cliché as it sounded. Your brothers also seemed to have accepted the newcomer without too much fuss. So Beau seemed to be the only one who was uncomfortable with the whole situation.

He nodded and kissed his wife on the forehead. "Okay, I'll try... but I'm not promising anything."

Vivian rolled her eyes with a smile on her face. She knew for a fact that your father would quickly accept Bradley as well.

Lunch went off without a hitch, Beau swallowing his pride not to be as awkward with Bradley as possible, although he did draw a few murderous looks from your father when he put his hand a little too high on your thigh or lower back. After dessert, he helped your brothers put the kids down for a nap and let them share the convertible bed in your little study. Your sisters-in-law and your brother-in-law, Evan - Aaron's husband - helped you with the dishes. They gently teased you that Bradley was a very handsome young man and that you had chosen well.

"I know I did. Look at you all, we Simpsons always have good taste," you sniped back with a wink and a teasing smile, making them laugh.

"Wait, wait, wait... So he was your regular booty call after your first assignment?" Evan seemed to realize. You shushed him and made sure that your parents didn't hear him say that. Annie laughed a little and grabbed your shoulder, making you look into her eyes.

"I can see why you qualified him as the best sex of your life after the upper body I saw this morning," she teased you again, making your face completely flush. You practically begged her to stop talking about your sex life, very embarrassed. But the three of them could be little bullies and they loved to tease you sometimes.

"Guys, please stop. If my father hears you-"

"Hear what, Stormy?"

You turned and paled a little under your father's cold gaze and tight smile. Your sister-in-law and brother-in-law took the opportunity to run off like teenagers, and of course Bradley arrived just then, smiling carelessly.

"The three cataclysms are finally asleep. Is everything okay in here?" he asked as he joined you in front of your father. He immediately wiped the smile off his face when he saw the look on Beau's face.

"You're lucky it's my wife's birthday, Bradshaw," he growled, his eyes staring straight into your souls, "but if I hear one more detail about your... nocturnal activities, I'm going to make sure that the two of you are as far away from each other as possible, even if it means sending one of you to Japan or Korea. Are we clear?"

"Yes, sir," Bradley replied promptly, "Clear as day.”

"For God's sake, Dad, aren't you being a little extreme? I'm a responsible adult-"

"I'm warning you, I don't want another grandchild too soon. Keep it in your pants."

"Dad!!"

Just when you thought you couldn't get any more embarrassed, your dad had the right words. He left the two of you in the kitchen, muttering that he was getting too old for this.

"Oh my God..." You cursed as you hid your face in your hands and turned towards the sink. Of all the weird things that could happen, you'd really hoped no one would mention your sex life. You felt a little angry, but more than that, you were extremely embarrassed. You let out a shaky breath, your hands gripping the counter as you lowered your head. You felt the warmth of Bradley's body enveloping you as he wrapped his arms around your waist, his front against your back and his chin resting on your shoulder.

"I'm so sorry..."

"Why are you apologizing, babe? I told you it would take more than that to scare me off... Maybe your dad hasn't fallen for the Bradshaw charm yet, but I'm working on it..." he tried to cheer you up, "And now I have an army of kids who love me, I can order them to defend me."

You smiled, amused at his silliness. "You're really good with kids, but I think it's them who will command you..."

"Maybe you're right," he laughed a little and kissed the hollow of your neck, his mustache tickling you, "but your mother has already adopted me. I'm protected."

You laughed with him, your embarrassment and anger disappearing. You leaned against him, enjoying the hug he offered you. These simple gestures were so comforting that it was almost frightening how quickly he could soothe you. You closed your eyes as he hummed and softly danced with you in the kitchen. It was so cliché, right out of a rom-com, but you couldn’t care less.

After a few minutes, you regained enough courage to join the rest of your family in the living room. Your in-laws gave you apologetic looks, and your brothers were a little lost, but didn't dare ask.

For the rest of the afternoon, Bradley learned every little anecdote your mother had to share; whether it was about your brothers, you, or even your father, she was more than happy to share with him. Jamie and Alice had fallen asleep in the garden, making your mother smile in awe. Nathan laughed a little with Aaron. "We warned them that a newborn was exhausting, but they insisted on coming here their own way...".

You laughed a little too, it was true they looked exhausted. But little Juliet was so cute that they forgot how tired they were.

Speaking of her, the baby phone warned everyone that she was waking up. You volunteered to warm her bottle and Bradley went to get her. Alice had put the travel crib in your room so the other three children would not be disturbed if Juliet woke up.

When the milk was at the right temperature, you joined Bradley in your room. Your cheeks flushed and you felt butterflies in your stomach when you saw him holding the little one. He rocked her gently, stroking her cheek with his index finger. He seemed so natural that it made you fall even more in love with him.

You shook your head, your father's voice echoing in your head: "No more grandchildren for now.”

You joined him and let him gently place the baby in your arms. You smiled and fed the hungry five-month-old in your arms. Bradley leaned against the doorframe and watched you with a soft smile. You, too, were a natural with children. Juliet seemed so comfortable in your arms and you seemed so relaxed. He found himself daydreaming about the two of you having children together. He blushed as he imagined you pregnant with his baby... and Nathan giggled behind him. "Calm your horses Bradshaw, you're not putting a baby in my sister anytime soon."

Bradley's face turned as bright red as yours. "Nathan, shut up!" you yelled-whispered at him, careful not to disturb the eating baby in your arms.

“What? You heard our old man, "No more grandchildren for now!”” Nathan grinned and put his arm around Bradley's shoulders.

"I can't promise that..." Bradley mumbled softly, mesmerized by the sight of you holding Juliet against you as you burped her after she had finished her bottle. Nathan's eyes widened and he tried his best not to burst out laughing. "What did you say, Brad’ ? I think I misheard you?"

You blushed as you realized what your boyfriend had just said.

"I... Nothing!" Bradley defended himself weakly, very embarrassed. Nathan teased him until your mother told him to stop, threatening him with no cake after dinner. He immediately stopped and went to get his son after whispering to Bradley that he wouldn't forget what he had just said. You decided not to talk about it, feeling a little embarrassed as well.

It wasn't long before dinnertime arrived, and your father was relaxed and talking with Bradley. You even caught them laughing together. This interaction was reassuring for the rest of the evening.

As usual, your mother had cooked for a regiment, and your refrigerator was full of leftovers. She made Bradley promise to stop by the family home and look at the family albums and your childhood bedroom. He laughed a little but agreed.

You walked everyone back to their cars, helped them with the kids' stuff, and your dad gave you one last hug and said good night. He said goodbye to Bradley with a slight smile and a quick hug.

When everyone was gone, you collapsed on your sofa, drained of all energy. Bradley joined you with a smile and pulled you right into his arms.

"That didn't go so badly after all..."

You nodded, yawned and put your arms around him. You thought back to the day that had just passed, to that roller coaster of emotions, and laughed a little.

"So... eager to put a baby inside me Lieutenant?"

"Oh my God Y/N!!" Bradley blushed, hiding his face behind his fists in total embarrassment. You laughed and teased him about it. You preferred to take it as a joke because neither of you were anywhere near ready to have children of your own, you both agreed on that. Or did you?

He turned to you, a serious expression on his face.

"And what if I am? Would you... would you be on board to have kids with me? Not right now, of course, but... I... I can't imagine a future without you in it, and I'd like to have kids with you. I know we haven't really been together that long, but we've known each other for a long time... and oh my God, I'm rumbling," he groaned, rubbing his face before looking back at you. "What I mean is that I love you and I don't want to live without you. Maybe it's rushed, maybe you-"

You interrupted him, pulled him by the collar and kissed him. You didn’t know what came over you; maybe it was the fact that he had just admitted his feelings, or the fact that he was already planning a life with you. Maybe both. Certainly both.

"I love you too," you whispered between two kisses, "and I don't want to be without you either... and I would love to start a family with you someday, Lieutenant Bradshaw..."

You smiled, your forehead pressed against his, and he chuckled in relief.

"Today was really like you... a storm..." he sighed, smiling and stroking your cheeks.

"I know... are you sure you can keep up with my family?" you teased, "Now that you've messed with the storm, the cyclone will never be far away."

"Wouldn't have it any other way, Stormy."

#top gun maverick #top gun imagine #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #beau simpson #family fluff #natasha trace #jake seresin #rober floyd #mickey garcia #pov second person #post movie top gun maverick

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ssivinee · 1 year

Text

✧New Game, New Player✧

part 1 | part 2

BEBE! Bada Lee x Dancer! F Reader: Jeon Y/n joins SWF to prove that her being the sibling of an idol doesn't make her any less of a dancer, but while trying to do so, she makes new friends and potentially something more.

Word Count: 4.7k

Note: Double post cause why not, have too many drafts rn lol.

Character Vision Board

In the world of dance, many professionals look down upon idols who seem to have a passion for it. Many of them saying, it's a different world and aren't really wrong.

Most idols lack in freestyle and versatility which caused a lot of the disapproval last Street Woman Fighter, with idol Lee Chaeyeon.

Jeon Y/n, on the other hand, had a different dilemma.

You were the younger sister of the famous Jeon Jungkook. He was only a year older than you so you two had a close bond, and you love him with all your heart.

Yet you can't deny that once your name was involved, so was his. Your hard work being discredited and diminished by all his career alone.

It upset you as an individual whose danced all your life, going to multiple countries worldwide to gain experience, yet there was always back talk about you.

Deciding to finally make your mark as just Y/n, you opened a studio last year and create your crew Aesthete. Consisting of you, Choi Lyn, Enyo, Heaven Lee, and Kim Aria.

On a Friday morning, you walk into the studio and see the three youngest sitting around, waiting on the rest of the team. Your teams youngest, Lyn, notices you walk in from the mirror. Her bursts of energy activates as she runs up and hugs her beloved unnie extremely tight.

"O-okay, let's calm down before you squeeze all the air out of me," you joke, and Lyn pouts as you pat her head. "Aria isn't here yet?" You ask your juniors as you settle all your items into the closet.

"She was the first one here but wanted to get us all coffee."

Ironically the door opens, revealing the face you were looking for, "Speaking of the devil." She heads to everyone, handing their coffee to them and puts her own personal belongings in the closet.

"Everyone begin stretching. The studio opens in 30 minutes."

You clap and rally the girls together, stretching along with them, then check the list of students coming into the class today. The song chosen for the class was "Con Calma" by Daddy Yankee & Snow. Once class started, you got in the groove of things, and as it went smoothly, you picked a few students and grouped them up to film them for a YouTube video.

When class ends, the girls chill around in a circle as they sit and chat. You scrolled through tiktok, liking dance trends while Enyo leaned her head on your shoulder.

Your phone alerts you, an email sent to your work email instead of personal so you knew it was of importance. Opening the sent mail, your eyes widen at seeing the Mnet logo.

The girls see your face and give a look of concern to each other, "What's going on?"

Your hand over your mouth, and you read, announcing, "Mnet invited us to Street Woman Fighter 2!"

All you can hear is gasps, and after a few seconds, jumping and screaming while you still stand thinking of how unbelievable the opportunity is. Aria grabs your arm and jumps, "Unnie, this is your time to shine!"

You smiled to yourself, now believing that people may actually appreciate you for your dancing.

It was a day of filming on a Saturday morning, and you had finished filming the introduction segment of each crew a week prior.

You get to the main building of the show in your own car and, with another coffee in hand, walk into the lobby to see your team waiting for you.

"Y/n-unnie! Isn't this place so cool?" Lyn says, coming up to you full of energy. Your eyes scan the building, and you must admit, for an assumingly fierce competition, it looked very subtle from what you expected. "It's definitely something,” you mumble.

"Come on, ladies, let's head into our rooms,” you command.

We headed up the stairs and into the halls, passing every crew's room and seeing what they had written on their board.

"It seems like someone tampered with 1Millions board already," Enyo points out, you then frown at their antics. The thoughts of these grown women acting like this irritated you. They were acting like children whose toys were stolen from them.

Yes, you understood bad blood, but pettiness like this isn't a good look on anyone.

The crew sees the Aesthete in a lightly script font in royal blue. You let the girls write on the whiteboard and enter to find the blue room, getting a bit overwhelmed with everything happening so fast.

Everyone sat down and you did breathing exercises, and as the nerves calm, your anticipation and excitement overthrow the previous emotions. The screen then flashes and tells us the dancer on the team with the most no-respect, which was Aria, causing you to look at the screen in confusion.

"Um, okay?" They all laugh at your reaction, mainly because Aria wasn't a weak dancer, but you assumed those stickers were there because of you.

You felt terrible and rubbed her shoulders, "They probably picked you since you’ve been my longest student."

She smiles at you, "It's alright, unnie. I'll just show them why I haven’t left your side."

Aria had been the first student you trained about 7 years ago and has stayed by your side ever since. You always thought it was because she wanted to meet your brother at some point, but over the years, your friendship blossomed, and she reassured you. Aria took your classes because she loved your style, movement, aura, and passion for dancing.

She indeed became the little sister you never had.

Then, the TV signals us to head to the main stage. You all walked down, your team following your lead, and looked around at each group. Every crew was there, but Jam Republic, being the grand finale, you assumed.

Your appearance began to cause everyone to mumble. You kept your hand in the pockets of your cargos, inducing a chill persona.

“Y/n-nim looks so cool.”

“Her eyes look ready to kill. Like she’s ready to punch anyone who disrespects them.”

“And I thought Bada would be the only person here who would be many girl’s type.”

Before you can all take your seats, you stand in the middle and see your team video playing, hearing "Backseat Freestyle" by Kendrick Lamar.

Then, the comments begin to flow in. Starting with Lady Bounce.

"I wanna say I'm intrigued about this team, but only because of Jeon Y/n."

"She's been known as the mother of HYBE. I mean, she's choreographed so many songs for so many groups. I guess that's where all the comments stem from." Lia Kim also speaks, addressing it to her team, and they nod.

"I don't understand why a team like this is on the show. They're like team Bebe, but instead of Bada, they have Y/n," Mina Myoung of Deep N Dap comments, and you stand there with a still, stoic face.

“The team has only been around for one year. They shouldn’t even be in this competition with us,” Wolf Lo’s Halo speaks out with her opinion.

You weren't amused by their comments in the slightest, but you wouldn't give them the satisfaction of getting any major reaction out of you.

Yoonji of Mannequeen then says the comment that ticks you off the most, "Not only are these the shadow of Jeon Y/n, but she is in the shadow of Jeon Jungkook. Even coming on this show, there is no escape from that."

Everyone keeps their eyes on you, trying to see any movement or expression of anger, but you give them a smirk. You knew a comment like this would be said, which didn’t surprise you.

You got those comments quite often any time a choreography of yours went viral so it was nothing you haven’t heard of.

Then, the crew with the trendy Bada Lee appears on the screen, "I'm gonna be honest, I don't know much about them." Lusher begins. " I'd say they're probably our biggest rivals due to our dance styles," Tatter adds.

"Maybe dancing is in Y/n's genes. She just has to prove it here. As a leader, I'm sure she knows many people look down on her due to her connection to her brother." You stare at the screen, a little surprised at the more neutral comment by their leader.

“Their style is very appealing and trendy. I feel we’re gonna see a lot from this crew,” Tsubakill’s Rena says with a soft smile.

The women of Jam Rebuplic were on screen, and you couldn't help but smile a little. Kristen and Ling met you during their time with the Royal Family, and knowing them for many years put you at ease. You also became a fan of Audrey's dance style with her appearance on the World of Dance.

"I know we're in a competition with these girls, but knowing Y/n personally, I know and believe her talent goes beyond imagination and can lead this team to success." The video then ends and shows the status of no-respect stickers given. You had gotten 2, while Lyn had 4.

As you sit, you think of having 3 level-headed crews on the show that didn't disrespect you. If anything, they looked respectful and sincere about all their comments.

The large room began to buzz in whispers as crews chatted about other teams. "I can't believe they think of you like that," Enyo shakes her head, but you shrug. "Their comments were honestly what I expected. I didn't expect the nicer things that Tsubakill and Bebe said."

"Agreed," Lyn mumbles, feeling down due to the comments. "I knew Jam was gonna be nice, but everyone else was truly a fifty-fifty."

Jam Republic then comes down with an energy that no one could match in the studio. They were the ones who felt as if they were at the top, and there was no denying it. They were at the top. The girls were the most unique with their versatile dance arsenal.

You knew your abilities as a dancer, and one thing you couldn't do well was Afro-dance, as the rhythm was genuinely different.

They stand in the middle as they react to their video, but every other team can't help but stare at the girls. The video played, and as every minute passed, their reactions were solely entertained rather than angry. In some way, you were engaged by the comments, too.

Some groups said they'd rather have Paris Globel there, but you know that in the popularity game, every team would have lost right then and there.

Nearing the end, you couldn't help but smile at Audrey's reaction to her 6 stickers. Your crew didn't have anything bad to say about them, and they took note of this as they took their seats right next to yours.

Ling and Kristen give you a fist bump and smile, which is noticed by Bada, who sits one team away from Aesthete.

“They seem close, huh,” Tatter whispers to her leader, who nods, intrigued at your relationship with the international team. After hearing the praise from Jam Republic, she knew you shouldn’t be underestimated.

If people from other countries were saying good things on your behalf, you couldn't be as weak as the other crews said. The large screen then shows the show's logo as the lights begin moving around on the runway area of the stage.

"Is it starting?" Enyo asks, but her questions are answered by Kang Daniel coming out. All the women were cheering as he had the mic and queue cards in hand.

"Hello. Welcome to Mnet's original dance series, Street Woman Fighter 2, and I'm your host, Kang Daniel. Not only will we see the competitions between some of the best dance crews in Korea, but we have gone international this season - with global named crews, making the competition more intense."

Heaven and Lyn act out a fight, punching each other lightly. "Yah, chill out, please," Aria warns the two younger girls causing them to abruptly halt the play fight.

"You'll fight to crush all the other crews and reach the top. Only one crew can do that. Here's the first dance battle to be the winner of this competition."

Kang Daniel did very good at amping everyone up. As you leaned forward, arms laid on your knees, hiding the lower half of your face, you hid your smile of amusement.

"The signature of the dance series is your first mission, the no-respect battle with the weakest dancer." You were all told to change, and you take your water with you as you return to the stage.

As you leave your room, you see the tall figure with the Oreo hair leave the room right beside yours. You bow when you see her, and she reciprocates. Given that you were tall, standing at 5'8, looking slightly up to meet her gaze, it was surprising.

"Hello, Bada-nim," You reach your hand out, and her eyes go wide, looking stunned. "I just want to thank you for not saying anything negative on behalf of my team."

She gladly accepts your handshake with a friendly grin, "Hey man, I know what it feels like when people compare you to the idol instead of acknowledging your talents."

"You're telling me. I've been getting compared to my brother ever since everyone found out about us being related."

"I had those moments when dancing with Kai, but people warmed up to it, especially the more I choreographed for him."

You smile at her with envy, "I bet it's nice to hear the love from people." You lower your head and lean against the wall, feeling somewhat ashamed for feeling this way. "I'm a little jealous Bada-nim."

Bada tilts her head, confused at what you, out of everyone, had to be jealous about.

"My one wish after this entire show ends is for people to see me as Y/n, the leader of Asthete. The one who puts a lot of effort into their craft and passion. Not just a shadow of my brother."

Bada's eyes soften at your determined gaze. She could feel how much you meant every word you said to her. She could only assume how bad it was for you, but Bada never realized how much it affected your mental until you spoke to her.

Somehow, that being your first proper interaction and conversation with each other made Bada's heart race. She wasn't expecting you to open up, but she really appreciated it, as it motivated her.

You notice all the noise in the room behind her, "You wanna head down with me, or are you still waiting for your team?"

"I'll probably wait to make sure they don't take their sweet time," Bada jokes, and you give her a genuine laugh, knowing how it feels to have a team all younger than you. "Don't worry, I totally understand."

You then bow, excusing yourself to get to the main stage, where you see all of Jam Republic ready. "Kristen! Ling!" You say, coming up to the leader with a massive hug. You met the girls on your travel to New Zealand for a dance collaboration and loved their energy, causing you to keep in contact. "Hey, girl! Long time no see."

You pout, "I know, I've been busy, so I never got to visit you guys over there," you tell her as you point to Ling, trying to involve her in the conversation. She also hugs you and plays with your long, silky hair that was currently ashy brown in color. As the three talk, Bebe comes down and sees the interaction. "She's close to all of them?" Bada mumbled to herself. Lusher looks in their direction as well. "I guess so."

You begin telling jokes and stories about the recent classes you've taught. The newly arriving team saw you showing them a sample of a choreography, you probably made. You looked so happy and smiled brightly as you moved for them, not going all out to save energy. A smile frames Bada’s face as she takes a seat, comparing your energy to a child showing off a piece of candy they got.

Rather than the serious personality you showed when you first came in, you did a 180, displaying your doe eyes and bunny smile. "Oh, Audrey, I've meaning to say how big of a fan I am of your dancing."

Bada's thoughts stray away as she can't help but keep her eyes locked on your figure.

She wasn't gonna lie to herself. You are super attractive as you carry yourself with confidence and assertiveness.

The genes were strong, too. You looked like the female version of your brother, which was a given, but your nose just seemed a bit smaller and your lips were evidently plumper. From the eyes down to the smile and even tattoos that she could see, you were almost a carbon copy of him.

"Oo~ our teacher has some interest in the leader of Aesthete," Tatter teases, and Bada scoffs. "I'm just realizing how much she looks like Jungkook-nim."

"You got that right," Tatter says, and Minah butts in, "As hot as him too." The girls giggle at her comment, but they can't help but agree. "She's so cool," Cheche says.

You begin to raise the sleeves of your flannel, out of habit, as you continue your chat with Jam Republic and team Bebe's eyes widen. You had a few minimal tattoos on your left arm, but your right arm was what caught their attention.

Inked on your arm was a full sleeve covering your forearms and down to your hands. The tattoos were all in a delicate art style, but as they covered your entire arm, the combination was badass. It did suit you, but now your adorable image was flipped upside down in Bada’s mind.

If only you saw her gaze. It looked like she wanted to do unimaginable things to you, but in a quick flash, she realizes the setting she’s in and shakes her head a bit.

"She looks like she would beat someone up," Tatter mumbles, but Bada can't help but think your face doesn't match your body. You had innocent doe eyes and a cute smile while your body looked ready for a boxing match, from the tattoos down to your noticeable muscles. "The Jeon bloodline must be strong," Minah mumbles, but everyone agrees.

The rest of the crews begin entering, and you wave off the girls, returning to your team.

"Whoever is battling first better hype up the entire crowd. My hands are literally sweating right now," Ling says, but you side-eye her with a questioning stare. Emma noticed this, nudging Ling in your direction, causing the two of them to laugh.

Once they commence the battles, everyone gets nervous. "The first no-respect battle is... 1Million Redy."

Your gaze follows Redy as she comes down from her spot. "The person I pick as the weakest dancer is..." She teases the crowd, approaching Deep N Dap or Lady Bounce. Redy then does a complete reverse and stands before the light blue team, "Bada of Bebe."

An obnoxious squeal could be heard, and you covered your ears at the sudden pitch. Looking over your shoulder to see it was Heaven, your eyes grow wide. You never knew that sound could come from her body, as she was always the quiet one on the team.

"THE Bada Lee dancing? Take my money now." Enyo rolls her eyes and slaps her, "Dude, don't be embarrassing us...Have some dignity, please."

Your chuckle pulls the two girls out of their tiny argument, and they continue to pay attention. If Bada got Heaven to react that way, you knew you had to pay attention to her in this battle. The younger girl barely gives anyone a reaction but her members, yet here she was, fangirling over Bebe's leader.

You look over and see the taller woman nod her head. "Redy of 1Million picks Bada of Bebe as the worst dancer."

"I just don't respect you," Redy ends straight and clear. "That's it."

Bada slightly paces and smirks, "Not Redy. Soobin. You're still an eighth grader to me." You smile at the comment, feeling the hype after the comments. "Whaaaa~ unnie. This. Is. Amazing." Lyn jumps up and down as she holds onto your shoulders, keeping her balanced. You stayed seated as the battle began and couldn't help but stare at Bada. Her cold face would get countered by her confident personality.

Redy dances, and you nod your head ever so often. While the battle continues, you feel a pair of eyes staring at you.

You look across the stage and around until you see the pair of eyes that cause your alertness. It was Manequeen's own Barbie doll, Redlic. Your attention was back to the dance where you see Bada about to begin.

Your eyes travel all over her body as she teases the younger girl with her dance, the grinding, body rolls, the taunting? You loved seeing it all. She dominated the stage as a one-man act, and you applaud her for that, which she notices and bows. That was the first time you gave someone a reaction as you all filmed, so she felt good about her performance.

"Cards are open in 3! 2! 1!"

The judges flipped their cards quickly, showing Bebe winning 3:0. Monika picked up the mic and told Redy, "Compared to Bada, you did dance like an eighth grader." Saying it in a casual tone made even you feel hurt.

Everyone sits, and the following battle is about to occur, "Mannaqueen's Redlic, please take the stage."

She wastes no time, walking up to your crew and giving you a seductive look. "The dancer I pick with no respect is Jeon Y/n." You smirk at this and grab your mic.

"Redlic, why did you choose Y/n as the no-respect dancer?"

"I wanted to see if she could set the stage on fire with me on it," causing a very evident chuckle to come out of you. "I can. I can even make it burn," you say confidently.

"Alright, the fight shall begin!"

When it begins, Redlic starts feeling up her body to "Needed Me" by Rihanna and swaying her body. She gets closer to you, going around and shaking her ass in front of you, causing you to bite your lips at her antics. You’d never deny a beautiful woman making moves on you, even if it was just for her dance.

She adds some floor work and ensures she shows out using all her space. Redlic had you entranced for some time, and before you knew it, it was your turn, "3! 2! 1! Switch!"

Your song was "Or Nah" by Ty Dolla $ign, and as you begin, you take off your jacket, revealing your sleeveless white top, and everyone's eyes go wide seeing your arms and full tattoos. You were starting to look like a hot commodity on stage, and Redlic couldn't help but lick her lips at the sight.

Behind you, Bada was still trying to gather herself after her battle, but her face flushed again once you removed your flannel. She felt her body heating up and hoped to cover up her reactions by hiding behind her hands.

You grind on the floor, body rolling on Redlic's body while kneeling, then pull yourself up. You did some ticking moves and mixed in some slow motion in there. As you slow-mo a hip-grabbing movement, you go into a motion of locking and popping. Then, slide on the floor, adding a flip to finish your sensual dance.

Bada stares, the hardest she probably ever has, and you lock eyes for a second. Seeing her face and body language formed a sly grin on your face, making her look away, now blushing furiously. She can’t even keep her head in the game when she hears your win of 3:0 against Redlic.

"Unnie?" Lusher stares at her leader, who follows the direction of her eyes, and laughs at the realization. "Unnie, this isn't like you at all!" The sub-leader claps as she laughs, and Bada can't do anything but tell her to shut up, which only causes her to laugh harder.

After a few more battles, you could all take a 30-minute break before resuming.

Everyone sat down chatting, and you were again talking to Jam Republic. You and Audrey had tied 3 times in battle until they decided you won your last match. "Dude, I need to know how you did that neck-breaking move," you ask Audrey, and she giggles shyly. "Let me show you."

She shows you the move, and as you copy it perfectly, she claps for you, "Yes! Well, you got it, fast girl." You laugh at her and talk about her first dance battle. "Man, the first bone-breaking move was insane."

"Which one?"

"Oh, uh, this one," You show the move she hits during "Low" by Flo Rida. Audrey begins jumping excitedly, almost fangirling for you, even if it was her own move. Everyone in the studio notices your interaction with JR and gossip about it.

"I saw them talking before, so they must know each other."

"Well, I'm pretty sure Y/n has taught a class with Latirce and Kristen before, so it's unsurprising."

You make more friends and move to Bebe, who doesn't notice your presence. That was until Kyma looked like she'd seen a ghost in front of her, causing them to look behind and gasp, seeing you standing there in front of them.

"Hey," was the only thing that came out of your mouth, yet all of the Bebe members stared at you like you had just told them the most remarkable speech on the planet. Well, everyone other than Bada.

She stared at you with enticing eyes, and you quickly took notice of her motive. Regarding the No-respect battles, you had already danced in 5, most girls explaining it was just for fun. In every action you participated in, your eyes met with Bada's, and you never knew what ran through that head of hers as you couldn't even think while dancing.

But you figured it out now.

"Ah, Y/n-nim, I'm a big fan," Minah bows, and you wave your arms, trying to deny any praise. "You're an excellent dancer, no need to deny it. Pretty face and stage present too," Tatter says, mumbling the last part, but you heard it. Your hand guides Tatter's head to face you, and you smile, "If I'm pretty, you're gorgeous."

Her face turns bright red, and you pat her head, finding it cute. You then see a familiar face amongst the crew, "Lusher, it's been a while since you've been to one of my classes." The sub-leader's face is full of embarrassment for being called out. "Don't worry, I'm not mad about it," you tell her, and Lusher's tense body relaxes.

"I've just been more focused on Bebe the past year, but maybe after the show, you'd let me back in?"

"You're always welcome at my place. Any of you are, honestly. Nothing wrong with expanding your horizons in dance." You announce, but Bada scoffs a little. "This feels a bit insulting to me. I am their teacher, you know."

You had no ill intent behind your comment, but you wanted to tease her, "You can always join me too. I'm sure you'll be my number one student."

The two's faces are just inches away, both having a condescending smirk on their faces. Members of Bebe look at each other, feeling the intensity of their stares, but their eyes go large at your pitched idea.

"How do you think about this? After the show, we collaborate in a choreography and class, and then we can dance together. No competition needed." Your fingers then point to your crew and Bada's crew, "We can all dance together."

You were now leaning your arms on the bench, Bada sitting between your sleeveless arms. Lusher and Tatter can't help but giggle at the sight. It was like a fox versus a fox.

"Sure, but I don't know if I can wait that long to be a top student again." You read the subtly in her voice, implying something you couldn't put your finger on. You lick your lips at her gaze and grin.

"Win two more battles, and I'll take my top student out to dinner?'

Bebe's eyes widen again in shock. Never seen Bada's eyes look so mischievous as they did now.

"Deal~"

A/n: The ending feels super lacking on this one, but I might make a part 2 to satisfy myself😭.

-sivine

#bada lee x fem reader #bada lee #bada lee x reader #gxg #wlw #bebe #jam republic #swf2 x reader #street woman fighter 2 #street woman fighter x reader #ssivinee

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lxkeee · 7 months

Text

TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN

-PART THREE

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Seraphim Angel! Fem! Reader

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Genre: Angst (for now)

Warnings: Daddy issues.

Notes: Fun fact... The reason I titled this as two sides of the same coin as I was originally planning on making the reader being Azrael's wife and would be [y/n] Eveningstar as Azrael's last name would be Eveningstar 🧍but decided not to lmao.

PART TWO | PART FOUR | NAVIGATION

Charlie stood nervously at the podium, angels above her already judging her. Her eyes noticed the door to the courtroom opens, a familiar angel she met awhile ago, an angel that looked like her father. Xavier was it? If she remembered correctly. She watched as the boy flew up and took his position on the other side of Sera, Emily on the other side of the woman, the older woman in between the two young seraphims.

Charlie could feel the [e/c] orbs staring at her as the boy looked down on her (literally as he was sitting above her).

The meeting began.

Charlie was really hoping to win these angels over, hopefully her brother could help.

But she was slowly getting more and more nervous as the boy looked like he was getting bored from this meeting, the meeting clearly didn't meet his expectations.

Xavier just looked down, eyes half-lidded as he looked at the girl with boredom. All he could see is a plan without enough foundation to work, baseless claims that the hotel will work.

What annoys him is that this is the very same ambition his father proposed years ago. He wasn't there during the meeting but his mother told him about it.

The idea is ridiculous. Sinners were given a chance to live an honest and good life but decided to mess it up and now they're looking for a way to redeem themselves?

Xavier was close to falling asleep in the middle of it, suddenly something caught his interest. Emily, Charlotte, and Sera were arguing but Lute and Adam suddenly butted into the conversation and managed to slip up and revealed a secret.

“A man only lives once, we'll see you in one month... gotta say I can't wait to... Come down and exterminate you.” Adam says mockingly along with Lute.

Xavier's eyes widened, jaw dropping. Looking around to see if he heard it right and base on the others reaction, he heard it right.

The rest of the meeting went by a blur, another secret was revealed and Vaggie, Charlotte's lover was a former exorcist and is a fallen angel.

Frankly, he doesn't care about that. Xavier can only cover his mouth in shock, still in disbelief that these killings are happening without the others knowing.

Heaven is a lie.

Charlie looked at her supposed brother, a slight surprised look on his face. Clearly in disbelief. She couldn't tell if he's mad or not.

Oh, he's mad alright. Mad that a lie this big has been hidden away.

Beyond furious, Xavier glared at Sera. Charlotte and her lover were teleported back to hell after a snap of Adam's fingers.

Killing of souls, damned or not they have no reason for doing this.

Xavier decided to attend the court meeting, curious what fantastic or foolish ideas his half sister had to show them. He didn't expect that this meeting ended up revealing a very heavy secret.

Currently he is comforting Emily as the girl glares at Sera, “Please, if you start to question... You could end up like Lucifer... Fallen.” Sera says, her voice trembling slightly.

Xavier's glare hardened when the older woman mentioned a certain man he hated, Xavier just glared at Sera as the woman gave Emily a kiss on her forehead, he doesn't like how the high Seraphim is hiding a secret this big.

“Xavier.” Sera calls out to him sternly, the boy just gave the woman a raised eyebrow as his face returns to being emotionless. Sera felt chills running down her spine, Lucifer's face is unfortunately plastered on this boy's face, the fallen angel was his father after all.

“I hope you don't tell anyone about this. Especially your mother.” She pleaded and Xavier scoffs, a slight mischievous smile on his face, “Or what? Gonna cast me out to like what you did with my birth father?” he asked sarcastically, Sera's eye twitched.

“Of course, not. That isn't an enough reason to cast you out. Just... Please don't tell her.” the woman explained and Xavier scoffs.

“I love my mother and I can't bear to lie to her face, she already had enough of that. Just expect that this will reach the seven's soon.” He explained before eventually flying down and leaving the courtroom, not giving the woman a chance to speak.

Sera wanted to reach out and stop the boy but he was already gone, lowering her hand slowly. Sighing. He really is Lucifer's son, stubborn.

After all, the apple doesn't really fall far from the tree.

They're just lucky that [y/n] was able to raise the boy properly and was able to inherit most of his mom's personality. The looks however, are unfortunately from his dad.

Sera sighs again. Mentally preparing about the possibilities of what will happen if the seven virtues' know about this.

Charlie's mind was a mess after that meeting, Vaggie gave her some time and space to process everything of what happened.

She can't believe the love of her life is a fallen angel and worse, an ex exorcist! She hid something this big from her! And on top of that, she has a half older brother in heaven?!

Charlie groans, going underneath the covers as she lies on the bed.

She knows the older boy didn't lie as he literally had her father's face except for the eyes and height but everything else was an exact replica. Charlie can't help but be jealous, she could tell how much better the boy was compared to her, the boy carried an air of authority around him.

She feels guilty, she's not stupid. Her dad had that boy while he was in heaven and obviously with someone else, another angel.

Charlie wonders what kind of life her half brother is living up there?

What she does know is that the boy harbors some kind of hatred for her and her family. The boy didn't fully express it but Charlie could feel it, the bubbling rage beneath his exterior when he saw her.

She'll have to ask her dad about this later, once she's mentally okay.

Xavier returned back home, the mansion empty as his mother is away, and they don't have any servants as they prefer a quiet life.

Walking to the living room, his eyes gazed at the large portrait that was displayed on the wall of the living room—a portrait of him and his mom. Him standing at her side while she sat on a regal chair, both of them matching clothes—their heaven uniforms.

His eyes softened, he felt exhausted. Training with his uncle, meeting his half sister, and a secret Sera hid was revealed.

He can't wait for her to come back home, he needed to tell her all about this.

TAGLIST:

@valerie-36 @blackbleedingrose @adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @scootinonyourmom @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex @nehy019 @napbatata @kouyoumarryme @sxgacxbe @kooidoom @ok-boke @random-3455 @izzieg3987 @snoozewritezz @dreamzaremyrealityy @hcneyiced @witchbunny1210 @ghostdoodlen

#lxkeee answers #hazbin hotel #lxkeee updates #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer hazbin hotel #lxkeee hazbin hotel masterlist #lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lucifer magne #hazbin hotel x reader

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itsmiyamore · 2 months

Text

— loving you.

He's not first in your heart. (He knows he never will be.) part 2 of missing you.

a/n: Tysm for 450+ notes on my drunk!Sakusa fic!!! It's super late (we're past 600 notes now!) but as promised, here’s my little treat for you all: a surprise part 2 to another Sakusa fic of mine, missing you. I hope u all like this one, I’ve been holding onto it for a very long time and it is very precious to me <3

-> this is not part of the @/ficsforgaza initiative, but please consider sponsoring another wip!

"I can't believe you're going to be late to our own party."

Miya Atsumu huffs, pouting as he says, "You could stop laughing at me, you know."

"You could have woken up with your alarm, you know," you mock back. Atsumu rolls his eyes, begrudgingly grinning when he hears your laughter again.

"Don't worry, I'll be there," he says as you calm down. You're already at the venue (he can hear Bokuto's boisterous voice in the background), and although he's not looking forward to everyone teasing him for taking a three-hour-long nap, his heart thumps at the prospect of seeing you.

"I know, Tsumu," you giggle. "Hurry up though, Bokuto is getting impatient." With that, you hang up, and Atsumu flops onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Three years of being together had made no change in the way Atsumu feels about you, a smile breaking across his face when he remembers how you looked when you accepted his confession, the feeling of your hand finally in his, and your kiss—god, he swears it felt like heaven.

Better not keep you waiting any longer, he supposes.

When he pulls up to the venue—a nice bar you managed to reserve an evening at—Osamu is already outside, waiting for him. Atsumu groans when Osamu raises his eyebrow at him. "Don't look at me like that."

"Look at you like what?" Osamu's eyes glitter. "I can't believe–“

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Atsumu waves Osamu away with his hand, rolling his eyes when Osamu snorts behind him.

(He swears you and Osamu are telepathic.)

The music inside isn't loud, the white sound of indistinct conversations reaching his ears first, and then, of course, Bokuto's booming voice and Hinata's excited response.

He turns to them as he steps through the door, but a movement catches his eye and he stops, heart fluttering when he sees you looking so perfect under the soft, golden glow of the pendant lights.

Then it falls as he watches his teammate walk to you and how your eyes lock onto him, entranced.

There's a bitter taste on his tongue when he sees Sakusa Kiyoomi—the man who always has a sour look on his face, the man who laughs when Atsumu fails at something, the man who takes his coffee black for god's sake—flush when he meets your eyes and smile. The whole world seems to stop around you, everyone else melting away, insignificant as you take each other in.

And it's when you take Sakusa's hand and he pulls you against him to dance that Atsumu realizes that it doesn't matter what he does, how hard he tries, or how much he loves you—it's so painfully evident that he will never truly hold your heart.

(And he comes to the painful realization that there had never been any competition for your love in the first place.)

Footsteps come to a halt next to Atsumu, followed by a sharp intake of breath as Osamu catches sight of you and Sakusa.

"They look…“ Osamu’s voice trails off as he glances at Atsumu. The atmosphere is tense—a mixture of fear and deep sadness permeating Osamu’s words as he watches his brother’s mosaic heart shatter on the hardwood floor.

"Yeah," Atsumu whispers, tearing his eyes away from you and Sakusa's figures, Osamu’s unfinished statement hanging in the air.

“They look like they’re still in love.”

This was supposed to be your night, he thinks. Your anniversary celebration, the night he would swear himself to you when he asked you to marry him, the night he was supposed to be promised the happiest future in the world. There's a sort of irony when Hinata greets him and Bokuto says, "That one's a keeper, isn't ever gonna stop loving," a bitterness in his throat when he forces an empty laughter that echoes the heartbreak in his ears.

But Atsumu can't help loving you when his fingers burn as they trace the velvet box in his pocket; even when he kisses you and your distant gaze doesn't quite meet his; even when the scent of Sakusa’s cologne still lingers on your skin, and Atsumu wonders if you knew that you still loved him too.

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moondirti · 1 year

Note

DEE IK THIS IS SO OFF THE BAT BUT IMAGINE RIDING MIGUEL’S ABS??!;!;?:?:? WHATS UR CRUMB ON THAT BCS IM LITERALLY ASCENDING INTO HEAVEN JUST BY THE THOUGHT OF IT😩☝🏼

SUMMARY: after the events of DOUBLE RAPTURE, we follow Mig back home and explore his less than ideal relationship with his world's version of you.

explicit (18+) | 1.5k words

part one / can be read as a standalone! WARNINGS: smut, ab-riding, handjobs, codependant relationships, submissive (?) miguel, ANGST, fear of commitment (on the reader's part), implied parental issues, drinking, anxious/avoidant attachment styles NOTES: did this take me forever to respond to? yes. have i been thinking about it every day since i received it? also yes. please have a little drabble as a sweet treat for your genius mind, anon. sorry i took it too far

This is how it is with Miguel.

Buttressed on a leather couch that isn't so much leather anymore, but cotton dotted with the flakes of black suede that've managed to hold on through the years since you bought it. It's old, unstable – somewhat an apt metaphor for your relationship to the man – and stands situated across a television with no cable. He shows up at your door on any unannounced night, where for once you wish he'd catch you with plans pre-made, and intrudes on your vain attempt to connect the old screen to your neighbour's internet.

And it's ironic that you should end up watching dated cartoons anyway, stuck inside your apartment that is a fraction the size of his, because he always opens on some variation of the same line – the very thing that woo'd you all those years ago, when you were younger and prone to any man's charm:

What's a pretty thing like you do in a place like this?

It's dark outside – night-worn inhibition being one of the main constituents to poor decision making – and his skin gleams golden in the dim lamp light. You can't refuse him for all your rationale on why, so he comes in and you pour a strong drink whose hangover tomorrow will take precedence over your guilt. He drinks too, perhaps to make your eventual rejection easier, and the two of you make-out on that tumbledown couch until your lips turn blue.

Sometimes, he comes up for air – only when he gathers enough courage to break away from you – to whisper filthy nothings and little promises on the shell of your ear. Neither are empty, you know. Miguel’s good at making good of every word when it comes to you. The push and pull gets to him, fuels his gears until he’s pouring proper work into making you happy. From what you can physically face – gonna have you creaming on my cock, cariño – to prospects that remain ever-frightening – wanna stay like this forever, you on my lap, sharing our home.

You’ve never had a reference to ‘our’. Commitment remains a fickle thing for you, instilled by parents who didn’t have the mind to give it. He knows as much, but you don’t think he understands just what keeps you around regardless. What keeps you at the door, waiting for an acknowledged three-knuckle knock. None of the in betweens, flowers, nor the heights you reach spread-eagled underneath him. It’s always just been exactly that – his return, done every time without fail.

(And there’s the ever-negging fear that one day he’ll grow sick of the cycle.

On one hand, you hope he does. It hurts him more than it does you, and you hate to watch him leave. Yet on the other, more volatile hand – you pray he fucks you so well you forget your reserve, that he breeds and carries you away from this hole you’ve dug yourself in.)

For now, though–

For now, you lift the shirt off his frame. He’s let his chest-hair grow since you met him last, and if you strain to remember, he’s gotten bulkier. Abs more pronounced, with pecs that bounce when you graze your nails down his side. It’s refined, a look that makes him appear older. You swoop down to lick his neck, moaning hotly once you reach his mouth.

“You been working out, Mig?”

“For you, hermosa. Figured you’d like me better like this.” He groans, kneading the flesh of your thighs. His fingers dip into the waistband of your underwear, snapping it on your skin in an explicit plea to take it off.

“And who told you that?” You say, acquiescing, working the lacey strip off your hips. Your cunt sucks at it, belligerent in letting go now that it’s soaked the fabric through.

“A couple I met. They remind me of us.” His head follows yours when you draw away from an attempted kiss. It’s unintentional, done to stand off and strip completely, yet his reaction to it sends little tremors of pleasure to your core. “Of what we could be.”

“Shhhh.” Once you’re completely bare, tits freed from your tank top, you straddle him again, a little higher this time. His waist is cinched enough to allow you to do so with little fuss, tendons at the top of your thighs aching only slightly. “Make me feel good, please.”

“Of course.”

His thumb presses down on your swollen clit, holding it in place while you arch your back and trap it underneath you – sandwiching it between your mound and his midriff. The pressure is electric, charged to fervency, buzzing as it lights every nerve ending from your waist below. And three thrusts forth and back see to it that he’s slick, lubed with the juices that gradually seep from your needy slit.

The sight, the sensations, the thought that he’s putting effort outside of this room for you – they all make you exceedingly weak. Your legs wobble, practically jello, spine made out of sand and unable to support you fully. Miguel stays firm, one large paw squeezing your breast and the other at your pelvis. You’d ask him to help, to move you against him until you see stars, but a stone lodges in your throat and prevents the words from finding clarity.

It’s guilt, of that you’re familiar, but for a number of things; the fact that he would help you seek pleasure in spite of his own – his erection left abandoned under the confines of his pants. The idea of desecrating his hard work, those muscles made pronounced, with your filth without fully appreciating it first. For everything, everything, and it’s so crushing that you stop moving altogether.

“No, no. C’mon, pretty. Keep going.” He begs, pelvis thrusting up with need. You shove your arm behind you, seeking out the zipper keeping him from you, palming his hard length with clumsy assurance “Don’t worry about me. Wanna feel you cum on my abs. Gonna lick you clean after. We have forever if you’d let me. There’s no rush.”

No rush. It’s far from the typical Miguel sentiment, and you blink in perplexed contemplation. But he just grins, brows knitting up with reverence.

“Did these people also teach you to take your time?” You struggle to say patience, because he’s always been patient with you.

“Something along the lines.” He mutters, suddenly sheepish. His fangs always intrude when his tone is quiet, like they’re intentionally making him difficult to understand. He knows he’s special to you when you try to decipher it nonetheless.

“Don’t be making me jealous, now.” You taunt, dipping to bite his lip. It’s fun to pull up, up, until he whines and shoves you harder onto him. Achingly empty and close to cumming on his abdomen alone. Slowly, you start to gyrate again, riding unrelenting sinew. And in the meanwhile, you manage to get his zipper undone, sneaking your hand beneath his briefs.

“I’ll explain lat… later, p-promise.”

“I don’t doubt it. F-Fuck,” Somehow, the pleasure is simultaneously heavenly and not enough, this little game you decided to engage in tiptoeing the line. He’s good even when he isn’t trying, just laying there, pinching pebbled nipples with enough callousness that it aches in the best way. On your first date – which wasn’t really a date, but a happenstance meeting at your father’s shady bar – he’d been hesitant to hurt you like you wanted. The best he could do was pepper your neck with sore hickeys, pocketed in the back alley, touch kinder than any you’d experienced before. “Oh my god.”

“Y-You’re so soft. My gorgeous girl. So soft and… and pretty when you do that.”

“Mig.” You wail, useless in properly pumping his pulsing cock. It’s all you can do to palm the head, smearing prespend all over his velvet tip. And it’s hard, like smelted iron, throbbing hot and heavy. It’s been so long since you’ve had it in you that you’re sure it’ll take some effort to fit. The abstraction fills you with desperation so poignant that you start moving faster, rougher, seeking an end where you’re stuffed full yet doing nothing to actually achieve it.

That is, until–

“What do you need?” He asks.

Your hole clenches. Your guts knot together. Your orgasm gathers, full and sloshing wet, trapped behind the wall he’s been breaking down since his arrival.

“You!” You finally admit. “You.” Softer.

And when you cum, soaking his middle with shameless indulgence, all he does is flip you over to settle beneath him. The couch rocks with the sudden upheaval, threatening collapse, so he keeps a firm hold of your shoulders, kneeling between your quivering thighs. His breadth bobs from over his pants – you don’t recall taking it out – purple with restrained pain and just waiting for your cue to allow him entry.

“I’ve got you, cariño.” Miguel hums, positioning himself onto the divet of your cunt when you give a frail nod. “I’ve got you.”

And you know, of course you do. He’s never backed away from a promise before. Because that is how it is with Miguel.

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valerie-is-in-the-cupboard · 22 days

Text

Out of Darkness - Chapter Eleven: What Have We Become- Alastor x human!fem!reader

Sinners were overcome with fear as rumours of the Radio Demon’s return spread through Pentagram City. Most of them started disappearing in mysterious ways, the thought of someone lurking in the shadows, hunting them one by one giving them restless nights. The overlords were not feeling any better about their fellow demon's return, their minds only imagining what plans he had in store.

Hesitantly, Zestial arranged a private meeting with Alastor, keeping it a secret even from Carmilla.

His fingers drummed restlessly on the armrest, his gaze fixed intently on the deer demon. "I see thy visit in the other realm did not affect thou, old friend." his voice echoed in the room. "The contrary even - thou seem to be in a good mood."

"Why of course! Why would a little road trip to the surface put me in a bad mood? I simply took a pleasant stroll and took the time to appreciate the finer things in life for a change." Alastor chuckled.

"It's just that having you away for a year made everyone… a bit worried."

"Worried about me? How delightful!" he remarked, placing a hand theatrically over his heart. "But let's leave this aside, shall we? I know you didn't ask me to come all the way here just to talk about my well-being."

Zestial sighed, leaning forward. "Indeed... there's something crucial I need to discuss with you, my friend." Alastor's eyes narrowed, a melodic hum resonating from him as he stood. "Is this about the book?" he asked, stepping closer to the overlord. "If it's so, here you have it!" he placed it in front of him, his fingers lingering for a few moments on the hardcover.

"Yes and no... This book is the one that thee seek, yet the issue is not related to it, as thou will see soon enough…" He carefully examined the grimoire, flipping through a few of its pages. His demeanour remained calm, but a sense of seriousness in his voice was clear. Zestial paused for a moment before speaking. He closed the book, still holding it in his hands, and looked at Alastor. "I will be blunt with you, old friend... I wish to ask a favour." He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice." I wish for thou to keep this grimoire a secret. The fewer people that know of it, the better."

Alastor tilted his head to the side, his grin never faltering as he listened to Zestial's request. He crossed his arms across his chest, his eyes narrowing slightly. For a moment, he simply sat in silence, mulling the request over in his head, before he spoke, his voice laced with curiosity and a hint of amusement. "On one condition, old pal."

"And what would that one condition be?"

"It's nothing much… You and the other overlords stay away from my business and I'll use the portals as discreetly as possible."

Zestial chuckled, mulling over Alastor’s words. He placed the grimoire on the table, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "That's all? It sounds simple enough... But I have one question." Alastor hummed in response, his ears perking up.

"May I ask...What exactly do you plan to use the portals for?"

Alastor chuckled at the question. "This, my friend, is an answer I can't quite provide yet." Zestial smiled at the response, a part of him expecting it.

"Ever the master of mystery, aren't we? I will fulfil your condition for the sake of our old camaraderie. Just remember to keep the knowledge of this grimoire hidden and do not use it frivolously. The last thing we need is Heaven catching wind of your presence there. Keep your true nature hidden as much as possible."

"Don't you worry my pal~ I have no intention of letting Heaven ruin my plans. They won't be knowing anything, of that you have my word. You keep your end of the deal, I keep mine. Simple as that." his eyes gleamed with an almost wicked light. "Now, if you'll excuse me. I need to pay someone a visit."

Zestial's eyes followed him as he slowly made his way out of the room. He knew it was a bad idea, but he also knew that he held no power over Alastor, especially when he was so determined to accomplish something. The best he could do for now is keep a close eye on his friend, making sure things don't get out of hand.

(Y/n) kept pacing back and forth around the apartment, her head hurting like crazy. It's been a few days since Alastor left with no explanation whatsoever and his shadows became more aggressive as days went by. At first, they were barely noticeable—just fleeting glimpses at the edge of her vision. But now, they were omnipresent, sinister smiles etched on their faces. She felt like she was going crazy, avoiding everyone she once loved to hang out with.

The phone rang, startling her, but her heart ached as she read the name - Mom. Tears formed in her eyes as she picked up, trying to act normal. Alastor's shadows looked closely as she held the same conversation from the past few days, her form crouched on the sofa, tightly hugging her knees.

"No, mom, we're fine… We just went through some shit but… I think we'll make it through." she hated that it seemed like she was protecting him; like he had done something bad and she tried to cover it. She hated that she had to lie when in fact she was only protecting herself from a monster she thought was her lover. "Ok… Love you too! Bye." she whispered, dropping the phone on the floor as soon as her mother hung up, breaking down crying. She raised her head, only to be met with all the shadows surrounding her, some of them actually seemingly worried.

She didn't know who or what they were, but over the past few days, she'd grown familiar with them—even giving some of them names, which they seemed to accept. The first to appear was The Second Alastor, a near-perfect replica of the original, but with a far more aggressive demeanour. She'd wake up, startled as he would stay in a corner of the room, watching her with a sinister smile. Sometimes, when he got bored, he hid her stuff, following her around the house as she desperately looked for them. But there was also a Third Alastor. He appeared right after the second one but seemed to be more docile, even friendly. They looked quite alike so, on the first day, she thought it was the same one.

The latest had more of a human form, no ears and no antlers. He wouldn't really do much, just appear and disappear from time to time, but he offered to help her find her "lost" stuff when she got too exasperated, much to his "twin's" dismay.

After the first two days, there were more shadows appearing one by one. They were all replicas of the others, but different details appeared and disappeared on each one. One was shy, hiding behind furniture, while others were forever present, but mostly ignoring her and just moving around the walls. Some were more friendly, staying by her side whenever she was sad, patting her shoulders gently or randomly playing with strands of her hair while she was doing basic chores around the house. She got sick leave from her job for a few days so she had nothing better to do anyway.

Now, they all watched her, but she was too exhausted to react. Sleep had eluded her for days, and her eyelids grew heavy as she finally drifted off, exhaustion overwhelming her. Whenever she fell asleep, nightmares of demons attacking her made her jump in fear, waking up in a puddle of sweat and failing to sleep until morning came. She closed her eyes, for just a moment, focusing on her breathing, as the feeling of being watched slowly faded. It seemed like a minute - a moment of peace before hell broke loose again.

She jolted awake from her nap, startled. A blanket she didn't remember using was draped over her, and the once-dark room was bathed in an eerie green light, her groggy mind struggling to process it. A loud thud made her jump, her eyes opening wide as a portal lit up her entire living room. She screamed, crawling away, as something dragged their body out of it, grunting with every movement.

Her eyes met their yellow ones, and more steps echoed from the portal. Her heart was racing, as cold sweats covered her body.

"Now, now, darling!" a familiar voice echoed through the portal as the demon breathed heavily. "You don't need to scream like that, you know?"

Alastor followed, slowly making his way out of the portal, his eyes glowing as it closed behind him, the green light slowly fading. He dusted himself off and turned his gaze towards (y/n), his features obscure in the dim light. "It's already eight here? No wonder this place is so dark," he said and in a moment the lights in the room turned on.

"Alastor?" (y/n) asked, but her eyes were still fixated on the demon that came with him. "Where… Where have you been?"

"Aww, my sweet, is that all you have to say to me after I've been gone for so long? A simple 'Where have I been?' And here I thought you missed me~" he approached her, her body stiffening up. He leaned in closer to her, his face mere inches away from hers as he offered her a hand to get up. "Oh, don't be like that, dear. There's no need to be so tense. I'm here now. After all, aren't you happy to see me?~"

She hesitantly took his hand, straightening up. "Of… Of course, I am." her gaze returned to the demon whose features were now clear. He seemed to resemble a cat, wings falling gracefully around his body. "Who is… Who is this?"

"This is Husk. A... business... associate of mine."

(Y/n) and Husk looked at each other, each one more confused than the other. Husk's eyes seemed to narrow as he glanced over (Y/n) sceptically. His wings shifted behind him, the scales and feathers rustling together, as his tail shifted across the carpet, wrapping around his claws a little.

"Why the fuck ya brought me here for?" Husk's words were directed towards Alastor, his tone gruff and rough. His eyes remained on her, not taking them off her form for even a second.

Alastor's smile only widened at Husk's reaction. He chuckled softly, his arm sliding around (Y/N)'s waist. "Now, now, Husker. Is that any way to talk to me? Especially in front of a lady?" He tightened his grip, pulling her closer to him. Alastor gazed down at her with a sly smile, his eyes flickering from her to Husk.

"Alastor… what is going on?" she asked, her voice as quiet as a whisper as she instinctively got behind him, trying to stay as far as she could from the newcomer.

Alastor chuckled softly, his hand running through her hair in an almost soothing manner, though the undertone of control was palpable. He glanced over at Husker. "Don't mind him, dearest. He's just a little grumpy right now. Had a rough time on our little trip back."

“Rough time, eh?” Husk's voice was still gruff, his eyes snapping back to glare at him. “More like a pain in the ass. I should have known you would drag me out of my damn bar.”

Alastor chuckled, gently pushing (Y/n) away as he made his way to his fellow overlord. She stepped back as a green chain former around Husk's neck. His eyes widened as he was suddenly lifted off the ground, his wings flapping instinctively in an attempt to break free from the green chain around his neck. He clawed at it, desperately trying to get it off as he was dragged closer to Alastor. His facial expression quickly changed from anger to fear as Alastor's voice echoed through the room, the static growing louder. "Now, Husker… Seems like you forgot you just sold your soul to me just mere moments ago…" Alastor chuckled, his voice filled with static. "I just dragged you here so we can end the deal. No need to be all irritated about it."

"Wait, wait, wait!" Husk's words came out panicked. He stopped struggling against the chain, his eyes fixed on Alastor's form.

"Please, stop it!" (Y/n)'s pleas echoed through the room, her eyes becoming glassy as the situation slowly overwhelmed her. Alastor's smile widened at (Y/N)'s pleading voice, the static in his own growing even louder.

"Ah, my sweet... No need to worry. We're just having a... friendly... discussion. Aren't we, Husker?"

He winced as the chain around his neck tightened, his breaths becoming irregular as he gasped for air. "Yes, we are..." Husk's words came out in short, shallow breaths. "Please, just... I'll stop, a'ight?"

"Ah, now we're getting somewhere. A little civility can go a long way, my dear Husker~" He released the tension on the chain a little, letting him breathe more freely. He tilted his head slightly, eyeing the demon curiously, a wicked gleam in his eyes. "Now, my dear," he began, turning to face (Y/n). She crouched down on the floor, her hands in her hair as she tried to calm down her breathing. Her head felt like it was about to explode, as she could hear her heartbeat. She tried to breathe to avoid a panic attack, the intensity of the events being too much for her sake.

Alastor's smile softened as he observed her panic-stricken form huddled on the floor. He let out a soft sigh, the static in his voice fading slightly "Now, now, no need to worry, my dear. Just stay calm and breathe, alright? Everything's going to be good..." He let go of the chain completely, allowing Husk to drop back down to the floor. Alastor made his way over to her, crouching down in front of her. He reached out, gently pulling her hands away from her hair. "I have a task for you, dear." He whispered to her.

With a last deep breath, she managed to calm down just a bit, but her eyes remained locked on the floor. "What is it?"

Alastor's smile turned smug once more, his eyes gleaming with a wicked glint. He reached out, gently placing a finger under (Y/N)'s chin and lifting her head, forcing her to look up at him. "Ah, there we are, my dear. Such a lovely sight~" He chuckled softly, his hand gently tilting her head from side to side as he spoke. His smirk widened as his eyes wandered over her face. "Now, I need you to do something for me. I have a very special task in mind for you…"

Out of thin air, a golden book appeared in his hand, placing it in her lap. She felt a shiver run down her spine as she held it, its cover crafted from deep crimson leather. Ornate golden filigree curled along the edges, spiralling inward to frame a large, gleaming red gem embedded at the centre—a gem that seemed to pulse faintly as if it had a heartbeat of its own. Intricate designs, resembling runes and arcane symbols, were etched meticulously into the metalwork, giving her a sickening feeling as her fingers ran across it. She couldn't help but feel the weight of the demon's gaze as she slowly undid the clasp that held the secrets within.

"What's this?" she asked, looking around the golden pages that seemed to be empty.

He chuckled, his hand resting on hers as she opened the pages. "You see, this book will act as a record of all my... business... dealings, my darling. It will act as a record of every little contract I make. Every deal signed, every soul owned..." Alastor leaned forward slightly, his eyes flickering to Husk before returning to her. He chuckled again, a sly smile on his face. "And here we have your first entry." He gestured towards Husk, his expression becoming more serious. "You see, my dear, our dear, grumpy friend here has just sold his soul to me. We just need to... seal the deal, so to speak. To make it official. That's where your little book comes in."

Husk slowly rose from the floor, his wings unfurling as he dusted himself off. His expression was unreadable as his gaze shifted from Alastor to (Y/n), lingering on the book in her lap. A low grumble escaped him, his tail twitching nervously behind him. "And I suppose there's no other way to seal the damn deal, huh?" Husk's words were gruff and resentful, his irritation more than evident in his tone.

Alastor chuckled, his eyes gleaming with a devilish delight. "Ah, my dear Husker, you know me so well. Yes, there is indeed no other way to seal the deal. That book is it. Consider it the final touch. The final... signature... on the contract, so to speak."

"Ya really had to humiliate me like that? I am one of Hell's overlords… and you make a… human be in control of my soul?" he spat at the demon.

"Ah, but that's where you're wrong, my dear Husker. I'm not putting my dear in control of your soul. No, no, no. She's merely the scribe, the record keeper, if you will. I still hold your soul in the palm of my hand." He chuckled, raising his hand and clenching it into a fist, Husk's wings twitching violently as a sudden pain coursed through his body. He clenched his teeth, falling onto the floor, his claws digging into the carpet. "She simply just has the responsibility of keeping track of it, that's all~"

"This was just a goddamn show to you, wasn't it? Just a way to humiliate me in front of a pathetic human..."

"It was merely a... fun little... experiment. But surely showing off your predicament in front of a human added a certain element of humour to it all" He chuckled again, his eyes flickering over to (Y/N). "Not that my dear here is pathetic, of course. Why, she's actually quite lovely, wouldn't you say?"

Husk's gaze shifted to (Y/n) too, his eyes studying her for a moment as Alastors words washed over him. His gaze was sceptical, his expression as unreadable as ever. He let out a low grumble, his tail lashing behind him once again.

"I don't think you're her type given by on how scared she is..." he mumbled.

Alastor shrugged, his smile never leaving his lips. "Oh, I'm sure my dear lady here will warm up to me in no time. She's just a little... overwhelmed, at the moment. Understandable, given the... circumstances..." He said, a hand ruffling through her hair. "Now, my dear (Y/n), let's sign him up, shall we?"

She looked at the paper in front of her, not sure what she should write. Should it look like the one she signed?

Alastor chuckled, noticing her hesitance. "Don't worry, my dear, you don't need to make it look too fancy or anything. Just write down the basics - Name, terms, and signature. You can... make it look a little... nicer if you want. But it's entirely up to you." she started writing down the demon's name, her hand shaking as the ink spread on the paper.

"Ah, excellent, my dear. Just like that. Now, the terms of the deal..." He placed a hand on the book, tapping gently on it with a clawed finger as he watched her write. "I promised our friend here total control of his powers, but in return, he has to help me with any favour I ask. Is that so, Husker?"

"Yeah. That's the deal. You got what you wanted, are you happy now? Can't we just... get this over with already?" Husk's tone was gruff and resentful, his eyes flickering over to the girl again, taking in her nervous form once more. Alastor took the book from her hands, stepping towards the now-past-overlord.

"Just need one final signature, my dear Husker, and the deal will be complete." He held the book up, holding a gold pen out to the demon.

Husk's expression darkened even further, his claws clenching as he looked down at the pen. He let out a deep sigh before taking it, the cold metal sending a shiver down his spine. He hesitated for a moment but eventually brought the tip down to the page, his signature appearing on the golden paper in black ink.

Alastor's smile widened as he watched, the deal now set. He chuckled, a dark gleam in his eyes as he closed the book, the contract now final. "Excellent, my dear. I must say, that wasn't so bad, was it?" He chuckled, his eyes flickering to (Y/N) once more. He made his way back to her, holding the book in his hand.

"Here you go, my dear. Your very first deal, signed and recorded. I'm so proud of you~" He chuckled, his eyes never leaving hers as he spoke. He reached out, placing a clawed hand on her cheek, gently stroking it with his thumb. "Here, my dear, this is now yours to keep. I trust you'll keep a careful record of every deal I make. Not a single detail must be left out. Understood?"

(Y/n) nodded, looking down at the book.

"Good girl..." He stood up straight again, his eyes flickering over her for a moment before he spoke. "Now, Husk, I have to keep your soul safe somewhere until I return to Hell… I can't let you roam around this place now, can I?" with a snap of his finger, dark shadows engulfed Husk's body, making him disappear into thin air, his screams echoing in the room, but quickly fading away just as he was swallowed by the black shadowy veil.

Silence settled over the room as (Y/n)'s gaze remained fixed on the spot where the demon had vanished. Alastor chuckled as he watched her reaction, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Ah, poor Husker. He's probably in a state of panic right about now... But not to worry, dear. He's well taken care of." he said, tapping at his microphone cane.

"He's… in there?" (Y/n) asked.

"Indeed, my dear. A temporary prison of sorts, until I return. But he'll be fine in there, I assure you."

"Are you… leaving again?"

"No, no, I won't be leaving just yet. I still have some things to take care of before I go." He watched her for a moment before speaking again. "Ah, are you worried about me leaving, my dear?"

She looked away from him, eyeing the shadows that were now seemingly hidden. "Some of your shadows were kind of… acting weird."

Alastor chuckled, his eyes flickering down to them. "Ah, yes, the shadows. They have a mind of their own sometimes. Pay them no mind, my dear. They won't do you any harm." The third Alastor slowly approached his creator, whispering something to him. Alastor's eyes frowned as he looked at the second him, who was now hiding behind a desk. He cleared his throat, looking back at (Y/n). "I've heard… one of my shadows specifically gave you a hard time… I'll make sure this won't happen anymore." He stepped closer, crouching down next to her. "Forgive them. They can be… quite mischievous at times but they mean no harm, I assure you. They are my... eyes and ears after all." Alastor noticed her weary body, his smile slightly fading at the sight of her fatigued state. "Ah, my dear, you look exhausted. Why don't you get some rest, hmm? You've been through quite a lot in the past few days."

For a fleeting second, she wished that when she turned to face him, the Alastor she remembered would be there. Instead, she was confronted with the painful truth that he was an illusion—someone who had kept her from everything she once cherished.

"Could I… see your human form one last time?" she asked softly, a tear slipping down her cheek, dreading the potential repercussions of her request.

Alastor's eyes widened, clearly taken aback by her plea. After a brief pause, he sighed, knowing he could not deny her. "Of course, my dear. If that’s what you wish..." Gradually, his demonic form dissipated, replaced by a familiar face. She felt a momentary solace, trying to push aside the harsh reality that loomed behind her fragile hope. Perhaps he was right; perhaps she did prefer to believe everything was fine.

They just stood there, their eyes locked on each other, as she tried to pretend everything was as it used to be, even for just a moment. She tried to forget what happened, leaving behind the scars that were still yet to heal.

"I missed you…" she whispered, her voice barely audible, more a reflection of her inner turmoil than a deliberate expression.

Her words reached Alastor, and he felt a pang of regret. He understood that she wasn’t missing him as he truly was but the facade of their shared past. Yet, he couldn’t ignore the impact her words had on him. A flicker of guilt crossed his face, and for a moment, he chose to indulge in the pretence—convincing himself that he actually believed he was the one she truly loved, that their plans could still become a reality.

"I missed you too, darling…" He pretended to believe that he missed what they had, even though, deep down, he might feel indifferent to her fate.

This was their reality—a performance. Or that's how it was supposed to be. But playing an act shouldn't have made him fight so much just to have her. Playing an act shouldn't have made him actually want to be given another chance at life, just to be with her.

He was The Radio Demon. He told himself he just got too sucked up into this performance, but what stopped him from putting an end to it when it became too much? What stopped him from killing her when she clearly became nothing but a burden to him? Why is he here? Why is he back? Why, why, ẅ̶̙̄ȟ̵͓̝y̷̜̿̿? That fucking question again. A question that has no real answer. Because any answer would be faced with an endless chain of other whys, each one making him question himself in the end, something he always hated.

But he knew this question of why had its roots in a completely different one. One that he hated to even think about because there was one specific answer that would mean the end of him. The end of everything he wanted to be.

Was it really just a performance?

Tags: @sirens-and-moonflowers @xalygatorx @princessvampxx @lafy-taffy @mo-0-o

@cinnamon-galaxies @littlebluefishtail @ratsematary @n0tmentallystable @martinys-world

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