#maybe i’ll write this properly one day…

[sugarsnappeases]

just had this thought of lily as a lit student volunteering at her local library and barty as this delinquent being assigned to do community service there. like she starts off with a bit of a ‘oh this poor criminal, i must save him’ mindset and then is constantly frustrated by barty as it’s clear that he just. doesn’t want to be saved. and he’ll deliberately mess up the book organisation systems and try to scam people by fining them when their books are nowhere near overdue so he can keep the money for himself. and lily is running around after him, huffing as she loudly puts the books back in their proper places, whacking him round the back of the head when she catches him trying to scam some old man. she’s screaming at him in the back room, leaning over him as he sits back unbothered on one of the chairs, shoving her finger in his face but he just grins and tries to bite it so she’s whacking him again and storming out bc he’s just SO infuriating. but then somehow he’s also going in depth with her about the motivations of iago in othello and whether the tragedy can be blamed entirely on him or if society itself plays a part in the plot’s development or animatedly discussing keats’ ode to a nightingale and the concept of negative capability and how it relates to the body. and she’s just completely fascinated by him, she wants to analyse him like one of the texts from her classes, she thinks she could write essay upon essay about his view of the world and the way his brain works and the tattoo she can always see just poking out of the top of his collar. and now she’s missing deadlines bc she wants to spend time w him, and laughing as he knocks over an entire bookshelf while trying to tell her about the book he’s just read, and really he doesn’t want to be saved but maybe he’s saving her instead…

[paimonial-rage]

spark - xiao

[random writing event] | requested by anonymous

“Do you want to try it?” You asked with a smile. “A day like this is a cause for celebration, don’t you think?”

He kept quiet as his gaze trailed to the thin stick within your hand. Though he never used one before, they weren’t unfamiliar to him. In times past, the more studious of the adepti found interest in those Inazuman delights. The lights would often draw his eyes from across a crowd, but he never bothered to investigate up close. While bright and beautiful, they died quickly as transient things often did.

“I’m alright. There’s no need to waste such human trivialities on me.”

As usual, his refusal didn’t color your expression with hurt. Instead, you shrugged and turned your attention back to the Mingxiao Lanterns floating in the sky.

“It wouldn’t be a waste to me. Not for you.”

He held back his urge to sigh. There you went again saying such things. Though you were assigned to his care, you didn’t need to visit him so often. You didn’t need to shower him with gifts. You didn’t need to stay by his side. He knew he wasn’t easy to be around. He knew he often made people feel nervous. But you didn’t mind. You weren’t scared away.

In the back of his mind, he wondered why Rex Lapis gave you to him. Xiao had been a loyal servant for years. Never once had he failed his duty. So he didn’t understand. What was he supposed to do with you? What was the purpose of keeping you by his side?

He broke away from his thoughts when a soft humming filled the air. Turning his attention to you, there you stood by the torchlight with that stick from earlier in hand. After lighting the tip, you held your arm out as the stick began to erupt in a burst of lights and stars. You laughed, waving it around, enjoying the streaks it made across the evening sky.

The sight was captivating.

But just as quickly as it began, it soon came to an end. With a sigh, you placed the sparkler to the side. Almost as if reading his mind, you turned to him with a bashful smile.

“They don’t last long, but they are beautiful, aren’t they? It may be a bit frivolous, but what’s the point in being alive if we don’t allow ourselves to enjoy it?”

Perhaps it was due to it being Lantern Rite that he suddenly found himself caught in a bout of honesty.

“I’m… not sure I understand.”

It was the most truthful answer he could give. And how shocking it was you did not judge him for it. Instead, you walked over to the box of sparklers and picked out a stick. With a smile, you then held it out to him.

“Why not try?”

[mars-paws]

uhhhhhhnnnnnn I need motivation so yeah ;-; (these are purposefully high bc I don’t want to do them)

10 notes and I’ll start doing homework the day it’s assigned.

25 notes and I’ll practice for at least 45 minutes.

45 notes and I’ll start posting a drawing at least once a day.

70 notes and I’ll write more.

100 notes and I’ll try to get outside more.

150 notes and I’ll try to eat a proper breakfast at least once a week.

165 notes and I’ll actually properly learn the State honor band audition/3 octave chromatic scale.

175 notes and I’ll be better about saving money.

2500 notes and I MIGHT talk to one of my teachers about not being called my legal name in class. (THIS IS A HUGE MAYBE)

Might add some more later. Uhhhh yeah :3

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ LUCKY — GOJO SATORU.

contents. baths + non sexual nudity, established relationships, tired toru :(, lots of kissies and praise for the babie :(, solid proof in the form of writing of how embarrassingly lovesick i am for this FOOL

it’s past midnight when satoru walks into your bathroom. he doesn’t even question why you’re in the bath so late—just gives you a lopsided grin tiredly as you smile.

“you’re home,” you brighten.

“look at you,” he coos, staring down at you with amused eyes, “waitin’ for me?”

satoru is tired—you can tell from the way the his shoulders are slouched and his blindfold is clutched in his hand. “i was,” you hum in agreement, “c’mere.”

it’s all it takes. he’s stripped down and waiting for you to move up so he can slide behind you in seconds, hand waving to motion you forward. but you’re stubborn—you shake your head as you hold an arm out for him.

“baby,” he whines, “c’mon i was out fighting big bad curses all day. jus’ lemme hold—”

“no. just come here, toru,” you insist.

there’s something about it—something about the way your voice is so gentle, so insistent, so knowing. it’s like you can read him more than he can, sometimes. satoru is tired, you can see it, you can feel it. you can’t carry his burdens, but you can hold him while he holds the weight of the world for a night.

maybe it’ll do for now—maybe it’ll even be enough and more.

“what? feelin’ like pampering me today?” he teases, “aren’t i a lucky guy,” he hums—but he climbs into the tub anyway, settling between your legs, leaning his back against your chest as his head falls back against your shoulder.

instantly, two gentle kisses plant themselves against his head, and his eyes flutter shut. he’s starting to feel the beginnings of a headache form—the gentle thump in his skull just barely there, but persistently present.

your thumbs rubs along the sides of his head, enough pressure to soothe the pain like you know it’s coming—he thinks you must.

“you are a lucky guy,” you giggle, “look at me. such a catch.”

he grins, chuckling that boyish chuckle of his freely in your arms as he relaxes. it’s been a while since he’s relaxed, you think—it’s half past midnight and he’ll be up with the sun in a bit to head back to the school, but it’s nice to know he’s relaxed. even just for this short, rare moment.

“oh yeah,” he nods, lips curled into a grin as he cracks an eye open and peers up at you, “s no catch like my pretty ‘lil baby. i’m living it up.”

“glad you know your privileges,” you murmur contently, shaking your head in amusement as you wrap your arms around his body. one hand rubs over his abs—he wants to tease you about feeling him up, wants to make a sly comment about missing his body more than him while he was gone. but there’s something about it, about the way it’s so slow and soothing and soft—it’s so painfully soft, satoru swallows.

finally, he lets his body go slack against yours, sliding down so his head rests against your chest and the water soaks more of his body. it’s warm. the water and your arms. it’s all so, so warm and forgiving.

“aren’t you gonna tell me how lucky you are too? i’ll listen, don’t worry. no interruptions.”

“yeah?” you chuckle, threading fingers through his hair and pulling a soft sigh from him, “wanna know how lucky i am?”

“course,” he murmurs, “well, i already know you’re lucky. it’s me after all—but i’m not opposed to hearing it.”

“how humble of you, satoru,” you snort.

he grins wider—he hasn’t had a chance to smile all day. not properly, at least.

“feel free to start any second,” he says with a wink. then his eyes flutter shut again as your thumb traces his cheek, ever so gently running along the soft angles of his face.

it’s pretty—everything about him is pretty. there are no ugly parts to satoru. just the parts painted from cruel hands. they’re beautiful too, you like to think, in their own, fragile little ways.

“okay,” you whisper, pressing a soft kiss to his head, “i’m very lucky,” you murmur into his hair.

he hums, mumbling a quiet, “knew it.”

“lucky i have such a handsome face to greet,” you pepper kisses along his forehead and find his cheek, giving it an affectionate little bite that makes him huff out an amused chuckle. “and he’s so tall too,” you add, resting your chin on his shoulder.

“that all he is?” he pouts, “just a pretty face? you’re breaking my heart, baby.”

“no,” you say quietly, grabbing his hand and brushing a thumb over his knuckles, “he’s also kind. too kind, sometimes,” you say quietly, “he comes home a bit later than usual every once in a while because he took his students out to eat. he loves them a bit too much, i think.”

“no such thing as too much love,” he hums, squeezing your hand.

you smile, admiring him as he lays against you, small in your hold even with the larger than life weight he carries.

“and he’s strong,” you add, “really strong. it’s not fair sometimes,” you whisper, “he’s got so much on his plate.”

“he handles it fine,” he assures, “he always does.”

“and then he still makes time for little old me,” you say fondly, kissing his shoulder, “never lets me feel lonely. he’s too good to me.”

“there’s no such thing as too good for you,” he gasps offendedly, pouting like you’ve insulted him, “he’s definitely not—”

“and sometimes, he comes home tired. and he tries to act like he’s not because he’s a bit of a prick who doesn’t let me help, but i’m smart and i know him well so i’ve figured it out. and if i’m extra lucky, i might get to hold him for a bit like this and help him relax.”

you squeeze him gently for emphasis, holding him closer as you press your nose into his neck and breathe in his smell. it’s like cologne that’s rudely expensive and that sweet smell only satoru has—it’s all you want to breathe in for the rest of your days.

you hope he’ll allow you that much. something tells you he will.

satoru swallows thickly at that, rubs a thumb over your bare thigh as he rests his free hand over it, the other still in your grasp.

and then, quietly, “maybe he’s fine just coming home to you,” he shrugs, “who can stay tired with such a sweet face waiting at home?”

“i don’t know,” you say thoughtfully, “he’s got a lot to take care of. wonder how he does it.”

“he’s probably the strongest,” he shoots with an easy grin, “sounds like the strongest to me.”

“he is,” you nod, “he’s a lot more than that too. i’m lucky he’s mine.”

“oh yeah?” he drawls—there’s something a little shaky about his voice though.

you choose not to mention it, pressing soft, delicate kisses along his jaw as you murmur, “yeah. he makes me feel really, really lucky. love him so much.”

“love you too,” satoru breathes, “guess we’re both really, really lucky.”

don’t talk to me i don’t want to be perceived. that’s enough softness for a lifetime so the next time i write him he’s getting hit by a bus

[gomzwrites]

The taskforce 141’s favourite steamy moments 

Contain smut(18+), minors do not interact

a/n: I wanted to write something that the 141 members like the most whenever they have some spicy moment with the reader >:) so I decided to give smut writing a go! These are arranged based on length, I apologise for writing such a short one for Ghost as I was struggling to make it as gender-neutral as possible(if it still comes out as fem, Im so sorry!), maybe next time I’ll do specific gender one post at a time, but for now enjoy this mess :> Tags: xgn! Reader, dry humping/grinding, eating out(reader receiving), submissive, teasing, riding(implied sorta), biting, slightly possessive behaviour, hand job - let me know if i missed any tags reader's text is in purple PLEASE DO NOT RESHARE MY WORK ON OTHER PLATFORMS WITHOUT MY PERMISSION -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Simon Ghost Riley - taste

Ghost likes it when you run your fingers along his hair, soft and gentle as he closes his eyes and savour the gesture. But he likes it best when you scratch his hairline and lock your hands in his short blonde curls. 

Ghost has been in between your thighs since he dragged you into his room, he laps on your entrance as he sloppily licks up your sensitive sex, sinful slurping and moans filling the room. He works his tongue expertly, mixing those arousal juices with his saliva as he grunts and groans. You watch with teary, half-lidded eyes as he slowly retracts from your aching sex and trails teasing kisses around your thighs before he bites down as you jolt.

S-simon…! 

You whine out his name as he hums and graze his teeth along your thighs, taking his sweet time as he watches you grow increasingly desperate, turning into a whimpering mess on his bed because of him.

He spread your leg further as he let his tongue dance against you, watching your back arches up as he moan into your sex, causing a shiver to run down your spine as his deep husky voice reverberated through your entire body. He looks up to you with those dark eyes that are blown out and filled with desire, hungrily pinning your hips down with his eyes alone. 

“Be good”, was all he said before he latch onto you again as he devour you like there was no tomorrow. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

John Soap MacTavish - wants

You struggle to breathe properly as your chest is fully pressed on top of your desk, now messy and with papers and reports that are scattered about and long forgotten. 

Grunts and moans filled your room as Soap has your hands pinned on top of your head, his other hand grabbing your hips, fingers digging into your hips that always leave purplish-red marks the next day. 

“Fuck y/n…..” Soap slurs as he buckled his hip at your ass, both of you still have your gears and clothes on, leaving only the bulky vest on the floor as he grinds on you, so desperate, so fucking desperate. 

He leans down to bite on the back of your neck causing you to moan as you feel his tongue lap at the bite marks and suck gently to soothe the flesh, now littered with goosebumps. You can feel how warm and hot he is from your back despite the layers of clothes, and you can hear his heartbeat too when he starts thrusting you faster, harsher, pressing his chest and his hips on you, as if he’s moulding your entire body as both of you are mushed together perfectly. 

‘It's not enough…” he growls as he continues grinding on you, voice getting lower as he frowns and bites down on your neck again, another mark as he lets out pants of frustration, you gasp and moan at his bites as you push your hips back to meet his.

‘Yeah just like that…fuck…..fuck. me.” he lets out a deep sigh as both of you fight to push your hips towards each other to be impossibly close, you can feel it too, you can feel how he angles his hip so that every time he snaps and presses onto you, you can feel his tip poking at your entrance, making you roll your eyes back as you sob softly.

You want him, just as badly as he wants you.  God it’s not enough, it’s never enough at all and yet every single fucking time, he does it still, it's too painfully good to stop, to pause this heating moment to remove some fabric, no, there’s no way he’ll stop, it's as if he’s afraid that doing so will result in these pent-up emotions and arousal slipping away.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Captain John Price - voice

John likes it when you hold back your moans and voices whenever you guys do it in his office, since his room is in the centre of the base, that means there are other rooms besides, and the walls are not exactly the thickest.

Sure, he absolutely loves your moans and the way you scream his name whenever he pounds you hard never fails to make him lost in ecstasy. But nothing riles him up more than hearing the voices you make that only he gets to hear.

He loves it when you suppress your moans, because it makes it so your voice tends to become whinier, and more desperate, reaching a pitch that sometimes has surprised him and yourself. He loves it because when you try to be quiet by squeezing your head into his neck, mouth biting on his collar as he drags his thick cock in and out of you, he gets to hear all those little gasps and pretty little moans that are barely audible.

John loves it, and he absolutely likes to break that resolve of yours, he likes to push all the buttons to see you crumble before him, and he knows when he is on the right track when you start to pant harder, and those whimper escapes more as you shakily grab onto his arm, 

J-John….please…

he smirks as the pleas come spilling out from your mouth whenever you feel like you couldn't hold in your moans more.

“Awwww….too much?” 

He would whisper back into your ears as he draws out each word in his deep honey voice, hands coming down on your waist before he slams it down hard on his hip, causing a startled yelp and a jolt of shiver running down your spine and let out a string of suppressed curses and moans.

He chuckles deeply, hot breath fanning against your neck when he watches your eyes tear up and your mouth opens as you let out a silent scream, still holding on as you shake your head and mutter to him, “N-no…m-my voice-” you didn’t finish your words as he clashes his mouth with yours, swallowing your pitiful pleas before biting down your lower lip as he pulls back, smirking as he bites down your shoulder.

“Let it out”, he challenges you with a raspy voice as he kisses the bite marks around your neck and nibbles softly when he coos at you, watching you squirm around as he gives you a mischievous look, oh he is going to, and will bully you until he has you screaming his name.  -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Kyle Gaz Garrick - hands

Kyle loves it whenever you take your time and tease him with your hands, you can feel how his thigh muscle tensed up and how he let out his breath shakily whenever you trail your finger around him. He always likes it when you start slow, gently trailing along his neck first as you kiss and softly nibble his ears, before you slip your hands down lower as you rest it on his chest, and those eyes….those big doe eyes of yours whenever you look up to him and whisper so sweetly, honey tone dripping out from your irresistible mouth absolutely drives him mad every time, and send his head into a spiral heat of want.

You like it, hm?

He gives a nod as he lay back on the sofa, completely melting under you touch as he squeezes his eyes shut when he feels your teasing hand trailing around his chest, sometimes flicking his nipples that cause him to jolt as you giggle,

Mhm, you do like it…

Fuck, you’ve barely done anything and he already feels like his losing his mind, only being able to nod frantically as words fail to come into his mind. As you slowly reach down, resting your palm just shy above his pants, his grip on your hip tightens as he desperately wants you to go lower, to give him what he wants. He loves it because you always manage to rile him up, giving some relief but never enough, it's like you knew exactly how he works. 

Hmmmmm what do you want…pretty boy?

You whisper back teasingly as you brush your lips against his ear, you watch as his boxers get tighter when his arousal increases, even a small stain was visible now the more you tease him with the nickname, his favourite one, among all the other things you call him.

“Ah fuck….please y/n…”

He begs as you slowly pull down his boxers, bit by bit as he lifts his hips up on instinct to help you remove them, then you slowly let him free of these hellish restrictions, and you make sure your hand doesn't touch his hard cock that flings up as you remove the boxers, watching the red angry tip leaking as he lets out a content sigh. Yet as free as he is at the moment, he needs more.

“y/n….god…please….”

He whines softly again as you rest your hand on his V-line, trailing those deep beautiful grooves as you hum idly and press your body against his. You continue moving your hand along the V-line before you lightly ghost his cock with the middle knuckle of your index finger, running it all the way from his tip to the base. 

Please what hm?

He lets out another whimper when you tease him again, trying to be good as he bites his lower lip to stop himself from flinching so much from how sensitive and needy he is, he nuzzles into your neck as he pleaded with a desperate tone, voice crackling at the end as he gulps in between words. 

“Please….fuck….please touch me….touch my cock…need to feel you please….”

You chuckle as you kiss his cheek and snake your hand down to hold the base of his cock, watching him buck his hip up to seek those sweet, sweet friction. Who are you to deny him when he begged so nicely?

Good boy~ 

you whisper back huskily as you wrap your hands around his length, he takes a sharp inhale and lets out a trembling moan as he slung his head back to the top of the couch, his hand holding your hips, to ground himself as you start moving your hands around his cock, sliding upwards as you wipe the precum of the tip, teasing the tip as you slowly pump your hand down and watch another string of precum leak and flow down his length, you run your thumb along that one prominent vein as you press on it slightly, the agonizing slow speed you’re doing makes Kyle gasp as he frown and grab your hips tighter,

“fuck, so good….hmm fuck your hands….ah…”, he lets out a loud moan lightly when you kiss his ear lobe, whispering sweet nothing as you attack his ear with your tongue, moaning and letting sloppy noises consume his head, you take this opportunity to reach out and interlace your finger with his other hand as well to overwhelm him in every sense.

He prays internally as he tries his best not to come right here right now, you just started stroking him but he already feels like he’s about to explode. He can’t help it when he can feel your hands, every crease of your finger swiping along his girth as you pump slowly again, god and your thumb? Whenever you use it to press down on him he swears his vision goes white for a moment.  

“Don't stop….” 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

a/n: yes yes I know yet another longer section for Gaz, I am, and forever will be biased towards our babygirl, YOU CAN'T STOP ME *runs*

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗧𝗨𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝟮𝟭

　　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where Y/N plans a special 21st birthday dinner, but her friends don't show up, leaving her heartbroken. But Matt, while dining nearby, notices her and decides that making her company would be a good idea.

WARNING: None. (Strangers to lovers trope)

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

A/N²: I suck at writing "date" scenes, so I'm so sorry if this is rushed or bad ;(

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

The flickering candlelight on the restaurant table cast a soft, warm glow over the elegantly set table where Y/N sat, looking radiant in her pink, floral dress that hugged her figure perfectly. Her hair was styled in a glamorous way, and her makeup was done just right, accentuating her sparkling eyes and the excited smile playing on her lips. It had been years since she had celebrated her birthday properly, years since she had allowed herself to hope for a special day dedicated just to her. Today was different. Today, she was reclaiming her birthday.

The restaurant was a stunning venue, with crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, casting a beautiful glow over the plush, velvet chairs, and mahogany tables. A grand piano sat in one corner, the pianist playing a soft, soothing melody that added to the sophisticated ambiance. Y/N had chosen this place specifically because it felt special. It felt like a place where beautiful memories could be made; and that's all she wanted, to be remembered.

On the table before her sat a gorgeous pink cake, adorned with delicate sugar flowers and a scattering of edible glitter that caught the light with every little flicker of the candles. Beside it, she had arranged goody bags filled with small, thoughtful gifts for each of her friends. She had taken great care in selecting each item, wanting her friends to feel appreciated and cherished, even on her special day. Her heart swelled with anticipation as she imagined their reactions.

The minutes ticked by, each one feeling like an eternity. She glanced towards the entrance every few seconds, her eyes lighting up every time the door opened, only to dim when she realized it wasn’t her friends. She felt her heart race every time someone walked by her table, only to look up and see only a stranger.

"Would you like to order something while you wait?" The waitress approached her table with a gentle smile, her eyes kind but laced with concern, her hands holding the tablet that lights up her face full of empathy. This was her fifth time there.

Y/N smiled and shook her head. Again.

"I’ll wait a little longer. They’ll be here soon, I’m sure of it."

The waitress nodded and retreated, leaving Y/N alone with her thoughts. She tried to stay positive, reminding herself that her friends might just be running late. LA was a busy city, after all, and traffic could be unpredictable. She busied herself by rearranging the goody bags and checking her phone for any messages or missed calls, but there were none.

Hours passed, and the restaurant began to fill up with other patrons, groups of friends and families laughing and chatting happily. Y/N’s smile began to waver, but she forced herself to keep it in place. She refused to let doubt creep in, to let herself believe that her friends wouldn’t come. They cared about her, didn’t they? They wouldn't just leave her alone... Right?

"Are you sure you don’t want to order something? Maybe just a drink?" The waitress returned, her expression a little more sympathetic this time, her eyes traveling from the cake to Y/N.

Y/N hesitated, her heart sinking a little.

"I’ll wait just a little longer." Shs replied, her voice barely above a whisper and full of guilty. She knew that she couldn't sit at one of the large tables for hours without consuming any food.

The soft melody of the piano continued to fill the elegant restaurant, creating an ambiance of tranquility that contrasted sharply with the turmoil inside Y/N. She kept glancing at the door, her hope dwindling with each passing minute.

As the reality set in, Y/N felt a lump rise in her throat, her eyes beginning to sting with unshed tears. Her friends weren’t coming. She was alone on her birthday, surrounded by strangers who seemed to be enjoying their own special moments. The weight of past traumas mingled with the fresh sting of rejection, making it harder to hold back her emotions. Her eyes scanned the room, feeling as though everyone was watching her, judging her for being so naive to think her friends cared.

At a table nearby, three brothers were enjoying their dinner, laughing and chatting animatedly.

Matt, the most perceptive of the triplets, caught sight of Y/N just as she wiped a tear from her cheek. It didn't go unnoticed by him since he arrived at the place, the loneliness of the pretty girl surrounded by a cake of flowers and small goodies. But now, her distress was palpable, her attempt to mask it with a forced smile only amplifying her pain. His heart clenched at the sight. His teeth captured his bottom lip in a gesture of nervousness and doubt before a sigh escaped through his nose.

Ignoring the conversation between his brothers, Nick and Chris, Matt focused entirely on Y/N. Despite her apparent beauty that caused small goosebumps to run down his arms every time his blue eyes found her figure, there was something more.

It was clear to Matt that she had envisioned this evening with a lot of love and anticipation, only to have her hopes dashed by the absence of people she, apparently, cared for. He noticed the way she tried to keep a brave face, smiling at the concerned waitress and politely declining to order.

Without a word, he stood up, causing his brothers to pause mid-sentence and watch him with confusion.

"Matt, where the hell are you going?" Chris called after him, but Matt didn’t respond, turning his back to his table and starting his steps.

He moved towards Y/N’s table with purpose, his eyes softening with empathy. As he approached, Y/N, lost in her sorrow, didn’t notice him until he gently pulled out the chair beside her. The sudden presence startled her, and she looked up with wide, tear-filled eyes widening at the sight of the prettiest boy she - probably - had ever seen.

"This seat isn't taken, is it?" He asked with the beginning of a smile on the corner of his lips, watching her closely.

"Oh, uhm..." Y/N looked around the completely empty table, frowning at the obvious answer to the meaningless question, before turning her eyes back to the boy. "No?"

"Right. I’m sorry to intrude." Matt said softly, his voice kind and soothing, settling down on the upholstered chair and resting his elbows on the pure wooden surface, his flaming blue eyes running over Y/N's features. "But I couldn’t help noticing that you seem upset. Are you alright?"

Y/N blinked in surprise, her initial instinct to brush him off, faltering under his genuine concern. She looked around again, still feeling the weight of judgmental eyes, but Matt’s calm, comforting presence made her feel a little less exposed.

The girl raised her hands, her fingers decorated with bright red nails and slightly trembling passed delicately over her cheeks and under her eyes, mentally begging that her makeup hadn't melted from the trapped tears.

"I-" She began, her voice trembling. She took a deep breath, shaking her head while lowering her arms, trying to steady herself. "I’m okay. It’s just… I was supposed to celebrate my birthday with friends, but… they didn’t show up." She laughed wryly at her own misfortune, lowering her eyes in shame.

Matt’s heart ached at her words. He could see the effort she had put into the evening, the beautiful cake, the goody bags. She had planned this with so much love and hope, only to be let down.

"I’m really sorry to hear that." He said sincerely, ignoring the firmness of his brothers' eyes on his back, probably confused. "It’s awful to be let down by the people you care about."

Y/N nodded, her tears threatening to spill over again, causing her to blink repeatedly in an attempt to expel them. She imitated his position, resting her elbows on the table and closing her hands in a sign of prayer, laying her left cheek above it, breathing deeply.

Her eyes found Matt again, taking in his warm, friendly eyes and genuine concern. It felt strange to open up to a stranger, but something about him made her feel safe.

"Thank you." She whispered, smiling brokenly. "It’s just… I haven’t celebrated my birthday in years. I thought this year would be different."

"Well, it still can be. How about I keep you company for a while? No one should be alone on their birthday." Matt smiled gently, observing her reactions closely.

Y/N hesitated, her eyes flicking towards Matt’s table where his - obviously - brothers were watching curiously, eating slowly while Matt's plate kept untouched. The idea of taking up his evening felt daunting, but the warmth in the pretty boy's eyes and his sincere offer made her feel a spark of hope.

"I don’t want to impose." She cleaned her throat, returning her eyes to him, laughing shyly, her voice soft.

"You wouldn’t be imposing at all." Matt assured her, shrugging slightly. "They can be alone for tonight, you know? I’d be honored to spend some time with you. Besides, it’s your birthday. You deserve some attention."

His words brought a small, genuine smile to Y/N’s face for the first time that evening. She felt a little of the heaviness lift from her heart, her cheeks heating up and her body feeling cozy and hugged.

"I don't even know you, I can't-"

"I'm Matt. Pleased to make your acquaintance." The brunette extended his right arm, his hand open and tilted to the side as a sign of greeting, a sarcastic look adorning his expression.

Y/N's eyes traveled from his open hand to his face and back again, her eyebrows furrowed and her lips slightly parted in surprise. He was stubborn.

A long, amused sigh escaped her red painted lips, giving up, extending her right hand, meeting his halfway, her fingers wrapping around his wrist.

"Pleased to meet you, kind sir. I am Y/N." She responded in an exaggeratedly polite tone, raising her nose in the air and closing her eyes in an attempt to look snobbish.

"Excuse me. Miss, would you like me to box the cake?" The waitress's voice echoed again gently, interrupting their moment. The woman stood a few feet away, her eyes traveling curiously between Y/N and Matt.

The two exchanged a quick glance before the girl looked up at the woman who had watched over her throughout the night, a light smile decorating her features.

"No, thank you. We'll eat it later." She replied, her heart warming at her own words as her eyes dropped to the beautifully decorated cake, knowing she wouldn't have to eat it alone. Not anymore.

"Actually, do you like pasta with shrimp sauce? They have the best one here." Matt's voice sounded before the waitress could leave again, his eyes meeting Y/N's, a gleam of excitement passing through the blue orbs.

"Oh, Matt, you don't have to, your plate is-" Y/N shook her head, pointing with her left hand at the table the boy sat at minutes before, ready to deny the suggestion before being interrupted.

"We'd like two pasta with shrimp sauce and your best wine, please." Matt ordered, a proud smile decorating his features, and his head tilted slightly upward so that his eyes could watch the waitress, who selected the opted meals on her tablet.

"Of course, I'll be back soon with your meals. Enjoy your date."

"Oh, it's not-" Y/N started, eyes widening slightly, interrupting her own sentence when she saw the waitress already walking away. Her eyes met Matt's for a few seconds before laughter escaped her lips, followed by the boy's.

Matt sighed, leaning in slightly, resting his armas above the wooden surface and tilting his face towards her, his big flaming blue orbs observing her as if she were a piece of the rarest jewel, focus entirely on her figure.

"So, tell me about yourself, Y/N. What do you enjoy doing?"

Y/N hesitated for a moment, then started talking.

They talked throug long hours, she told him about her hobbies, her favorite books and movies, the things that made her happiest. Matt listened intently, his eyes never leaving hers, his genuine interest making her feel valued and heard, his eyes lighting up with every word she spoke.

His questions were thoughtful, his comments encouraging, and slowly, Y/N felt herself relaxing, the earlier pain easing away.

In return, Matt shared stories about his own life, his career with his brothers, the things he was passionate about, the moments he went through after leaving Boston.

They laughed together, the conversation flowing naturally as if they had known each other for years.

As the evening wore on, Y/N realized that she was actually enjoying herself. The initial embarrassment and pain were replaced by a warm, comfortable feeling. She felt a connection with Matt that she hadn’t felt with anyone in a very long time, and surprisingly, she didn't feel scared.

When their plates were finally cleared away and their bellies full, Matt turned his attention to the beautiful pink cake sitting untouched on the table.

"That cake looks incredible." He commented briefly, his tone sounding like that of disinterest, his eyes twinkling with a mischievous glint. "It would be a shame not to light the candles and make a wish."

Y/N bit her lip, looking at the cake with a mix of longing and hesitation.

"I… I don’t really want to make a big deal out of it." She admitted. "I don’t want to sing ‘Happy Birthday’ or anything."

Matt nodded understandingly, looking at her attentive.

"That’s completely fine." He assured, smiling openly. "We don’t have to sing or to draw attention at all. But you should still make a wish and blow out the candles. It’s your birthday, and you deserve it."

After a moment’s hesitation, her eyes traveling to the pink cake to Matt and back again, Y/N nodded, her pearly teeth trapping her bottom lip in a light grip.

Matt called the waitress again, discreetly pointing to the cake, receiving an understanding nod from afar.

It wasn't long before a black lighter was in his hands and the cake right in front of them. He carefully lit the lighter, approaching the small and orange flame to the 21-shaped candles, the pink color accompanied by small diamonds shining below the warm light.

Matt placed the already turned off lighter on the table again, turning his attention back to the girl next to him, his eyes brimming with admiration.

"Happy birthday, Y/N." Matt murmured softly, shifting in his cushioned chair to be closer to her. Her delicate perfume wafted to him like a gentle breeze, filling his senses. "I hope all your wishes come true."

Y/N felt a warm sensation spread through her chest at his tender words. Her eyes locked onto his for long, lingering moments, like two planets colliding in a beautiful explosion, before she turned her gaze back to the cake. She closed her eyes slightly, summoning a wish from the deepest part of her heart. With a gentle breath, she blew out the candles, the small flames flickering and extinguishing with a soft puff.

Matt clapped softly, his smile wide and genuine, his eyes widening like the one of a child in front of their favorite candy.

"Well done!" He celebrated, his brunette hair falling slightly into his eyes as he beamed at her. "Now, let me cut this beautiful cake for a pretty girl."

By the end of the night, Y/N left the restaurant with a magical smile lighting up her face, feeling as though she were floating with each step she took on the night streets of LA. Matt, meanwhile, left with his ears full of playful complaints from Nick and Chris, which were drowned out by the sound of his own heart pounding in his chest. His hand carried a pink bag full of goodies, and unbeknownst to him, a small napkin with a phone number written in elegant script nestled among the treats.

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(If you want to be added to the taglist, go to this post)

[cozage]

Hi, Coza! I hope you are doing well! I miss your writings and am so excited to see your requests are open! :)

I saw a post by sunshinescribes that talked about how Law doesn’t believe in unconditional love and how he thinks relationships should be transactional. Hopefully I can properly link it here because they do a really good job at explaining it: https://www.tumblr.com/sunshinescribes/728643191573757952/i-think-the-most-tragic-part-of-laws-character-is

I was wondering if it was possible to have a scenario based off of this post of reader just appreciating and loving Law because they want to. Like maybe they’re just waking up and reader is using the rare moment of peace and quiet in bed to spill all of their love and sappy thoughts to him. He deserves all of the comfort, love, and care 😭

A/N: Thanks for this devastatingly lovely prompt! Here's the post for everyone if you want to go give it a read (and a like!) Characters: gn reader x Law Cw: none :)  Total word count: 850

There Are No Conditions

The way the light refracted through the cabin window in the morning and bounced off of Law’s ravenous hair was one of your favorite things in this world. It was one of the few times he didn’t have a scowl on his face. He rarely smiled in his sleep, but his face almost always looked so peaceful. His eyelids fluttered for a moment, and then his face turned soft again. He must have been having a good dream. 

You noticed he was starting to get a few gray hairs. He must have been under some kind of stress recently. Though he always seemed to be since you all had entered the New World. You knew he had a lot on his mind, and you wished there was something you could do to make his life easier. You wanted to bear that burden with him. 

“Do you need something?” Law’s voice came out hoarse, but his sudden alertness had startled you slightly. 

“Nothing at all,” you said sweetly. “Just admiring you in this light.”

He groaned and pulled you in closer to him. “We’re getting curtains at the next island.”

You gave an exasperated gasp, but snuggled in tightly to him knowing his threat was empty. “And you would deny me of such a simple pleasure for what? Extra sleep?”

His eyes cracked open at your words and he peered down at you. “You cannot enjoy watching me sleep.”

You gave a sheepish smile. “It’s one of my favorite things in this world, Trafalgar Law. In fact, you’re one of my favorite things in this whole world, so everything that you do is automatically good in my eyes.”

He rolled his eyes, clearly not believing you. “Flattery is a little thick today. You might want to tone it down, or I’ll catch on to the fact that you want something.”

You stuck your tongue out at his words. “All I wanted was to look at you while you sleep!”

“Freak.” He paired his words with a kiss to your forehead to show he didn’t actually mean them. 

The two of you were silent for a while. You thought he had fallen back asleep, so you occupied your time tracing over his tattoos. But after a few minutes, he spoke again.

“Okay, seriously-” He pulled back slightly to look at you. He tended to do that when he wanted to make sure you were being truthful. “What did you want to do today?”

You were never good at hiding your emotions. You knew they had all washed over your face in a matter of seconds, and Law could read them all with intense precision. Confusion. Knowing. Irritation. And then, understanding. 

“I don’t want anything from you, Law,” you explained. “I was just…enjoying the view? I don’t know how to say it correctly. I find myself staring sometimes because I find you interesting.”

Law’s brows scrunched together in confusion. “If you wanted a good view, the deck and the sea are far more interesting. Especially at this time of day.”

You gave a humorless laugh. “I love you more than I love the sea, idiot.”

He froze at those words, and you could see him struggling to make sense of them. “So you were staring at me…?”

“Because I love you,” you finished for him. 

That didn’t seem to help. “And you love me because…?”

“I don’t know!” You gave out a sharp laugh at the thought. “There are no reasons and so many reasons! But there are no conditions for my love, Law! I just love you because I love you. I can’t say exactly why I love you. I just do!”

You had really done it now. You were fairly certain you had never seen Law more confused or more flustered than he was in this moment. He gave a hard swallow and nodded his head, but you could tell further clarification was still needed.

“You don’t understand,” you said, watching his eyes turn to the ceiling. If they went there, that usually meant he was lost in thought. 

He shrugged. “I do, in a way. I feel that way about you, but I…well, I never expected someone to feel that way about me.”

The weight of his words made your heart sink. He deserved more than anyone to know how much he was treasured. You would die for him for no other reason than love. And while he could grasp the concept, he couldn’t understand why someone would feel that way towards him. 

“How about I tell you all the things I love about you?” you offered softly, trying to pull him away from his thoughts. It was too early to be thinking of such deep topics.

His eyes shifted over to you, and you could see he was half alarmed by your offer. But you could see the smallest spark of intrigue. 

So you began listing everything you could think off, absentmindedly still tracing over his tattoos. 

The sun was more than halfway across the sky before you finished. And there was a soft smile on his face during your all’s afternoon nap. 

[lynnie-ee]

Day 6; Intimidation.

╰┈➤"Being stared at by one of the Leech Twins could scare anyone at Night Raven College, even you, especially if there's no apparent reason behind it. Jade, on the other hand, believes his plan to hint his feelings for you is working greatly."

╰►Gender neutral reader, oneshot, 1.4k words.

╰► Character: Jade Leech.

╰►Note: The prompts are based on words I found interesting and then I put them on a roulette to decide when I would write about them, lol. English is not my first language, so please let me know if there are any grammatical mistakes <3. Not proof read, I haven't written in a long time, so I apologise if anything is out of character.

╰►Masterlist / Inktober Masterlist.

⤿

⤿

Jade Leech has got his eyes on you for two weeks now.

At first, it only happened when you were in the hallways, but you didn't think much of it because, there were a lot of students, why would he be looking at you?

Then it was at the cafeteria when you were surrounded by your first-year friends, but that meant nothing because they were pretty loud, there were a lot of reasons why he could be staring.

But then it happened at the library when it was just Grim and you, which was weird, but perhaps he was looking at your little friend, maybe finding ways to blackmail him into working at Mostro Lounge again.

You've made a lot of excuses about it, thinking that it'd be narcissistic to believe he was solely staring at you, but now, as you are seated at one of the few benches that were around the Botanical Garden, with Jade only a few meters away, you could feel his gaze piercing you.

And it was fucking scary.

He worked casually on some annotations as he looked at a few mushrooms in the area, which made you wonder how seemed to be deeply focused on it while still managing to feel like he was staring at your soul.

'I was just looking for a peaceful place to study, Great Seven.'

You sighed, already tired of such attention upon you, which only fuelled the frustration you already felt due to that damn alchemy assignment you couldn't do properly.

Once again doing the assignment incorrectly, you turned towards where your pencil case was lying, looking for an eraser.

"You did the third step wrongly."

The voice of vicehousewarden echoed through the garden, as you lifted your face to observe him, realising he was staring at the mushrooms instead of you, making you wonder how he was even able to see your notebook from so far.

“Thank you, I’ll correct it when I get back to my dorm.” You answered trying to be polite, an awkward smile on your expression, as you grabbed your pencil case to start packing up your things, instead of just grabbing the eraser. You had enough of that psychological torture already.

“A pity that you’re leaving so soon, Prefect.” He commented as you got up from your seat.

“Yeah, I’ve to run some errands today. Goodbye, Jade.”

“Goodbye, good luck with your errands.” The vicehousewarden spoke with his usual mischievous smile, as if he knew you’d go home straight away after leaving the Botanical Garden, away from his prying eyes.

What the hell was wrong with him…?

⤿

⤿

You wished that was the last time you were under the petrifying gaze of Jade Leech, but as usual for your luck, it wasn’t. In fact, you already had started to get used to it. This was Night Raven College, having a second-year student stare at you like a predator to his prey probably wasn’t even on your top five of the strangest things you’ve gone through ever since you arrived.

"Do you think Trein's going to put the class of this week into the next test?" Deuce questioned, as you walked along him, Ace walking behind with Grim. All of the classes of the day were already finished, and Deuce offered his room to finish one of the group homework that Crewel assigned last week.

"I think he said he would." Ace answered, balancing Grim on one of his shoulders.

"You both talk like you'll study for the test, how cute." You commented, chuckling softly, your laugh stopping immediately as out of nowhere, Jade appeared in front of you.

"Prefect, it's nice to see you." The vicehousewarden greeted, ignoring the panicked expression of the Heartslabyul first-years beside you. "I was wondering if you'd come to Mostro Lounge tomorrow, after class." He questioned politely.

"Tomorrow...? At Mostro Lounge?" The question escaped your lips, as your mind wondered what he could want from you.

"Yes, that's what I said." He reassured, his smile more insistent than usual.

"Yeah, sure..." You answered, mostly out of uneasiness, considering how widely known was around the school about the terrors of those who made the Leech Twins get annoyed.

"Wonderful, I'll wait for you, please be punctual." The second-year remarked, before turning around to continue his walk.

...

"Prefect, did you get into a deal with Azul?!"

"What the hell did you do wrong?! Messing with Octavinelle is awful, man...You're probably working at Mostro Lounge for at least 2 months."

"But I didn't do anything!" You excused yourself immediately.

"You didn't...? Then why did Jade ask you to go to Mostro Lounge?"

"I've got no idea..." You mumbled, sighing in exasperation. First the stares, and now this...

"Maybe you did something without noticing." Deuce suggested with a nervous tone.

"If that's the case, you're screwed, Prefect. Good luck with that, we'll visit you at your shifts at Mostro Lounge."

"Thanks for the support, boys." You commented sarcastically.

⤿

⤿

This was it, the moment of truth.

You walked through the doors of Mostro Lounge, your expression as confident as you could, even if you were behind scared. You wondered all day what exactly you did to be stalked by Jade Leech and then asked to come to his dorm, because there surely was an explanation for it. Still, when it came to Octavinelle's vicehousewarden, you knew it was safer to wonder rather than be involved with him.

"You arrived perfectly on time." Was the first comment from the second-year student as soon as they arrived. "Please follow me." He indicated the way towards a more secluded room of the Mostro Lounge, which you followed without complaint. You were already there, might as well you could try your best not to bother him.

As he stood in front of you, you wondered once again why could he ask you to come talk to him, perhaps it was Grim who got into a problem, maybe he wanted to blackmail you, or he even could want to persuade you into making a deal with-

"I asked you to come because I had a question for you, so I apologize if it was inconvenient for you at all." He started, your body getting stiff, as if getting ready for a fight. "I was wondering if you perhaps wanted to go on a hike with me this weekend?"

...

"A hike, you say?" You asked, startled, as he nodded. "You mean, just the two of us?" That was bad, wasn't it? What if he wanted to take you to a lonely place to make you disappear or something of the sort?

"Yes, just the two of us." He replied. "Or at least, that was what the book suggested-"

"What book?" You questioned, confused.

"Ah, just a book I read about human custom. It said humans usually liked dates on open spaces, or where they could do activities outdoors. Perhaps you aren't the kind of person that likes them? I could come up with other kinds of ideas indoors, if you'd like." The vicehousewarden explained, his voice steady as usual.

'Did he say date...?'

"No, I do like being outside and all of that, it's just that...You asked me to come here to ask me out?"

"Yes. My previous plans didn't seem to be working, so I figured it'd be best to approach you directly."

"What previous plans?"

"Well, the book explained that humans usually express interest through eye contact, is that correct?" The second-year questioned with a genuine expression that almost seemed adorable.

"Eye-contact...? Well, uhm..." You mumbled, wondering when you ever made eye contact with Jade at all. Wait. "You mean, like the times when you stared at me in class?"

"Indeed, was it effective?"

"It certainly caught my attention, for sure..." You mumbled, relieved to learn that his intentions seemed to be way less dangerous than you thought at first.

"I'm glad to hear that. Then, would you like to join me for a hike?"

You considered his words for a second, wondering whether it'd be a good idea or not. But after so much time being chased by his gaze, and so many hours thinking about the reason behind it, you considered a date wouldn't hurt, wouldn't it? He had perseverance, at least.

"I'd love to join you, Jade."

"I'm glad to hear that." He chuckled softly, surprising you with how cute he actually looked when he didn't stalk you through school hours.

"Jade."

"Yes?"

"From now on, if you want to learn about human customs, just ask me, okay?"

"In that case, I'll be more than pleased to be your student, Prefect." He replied, the small smile still on his face as he looked at you with his mismatched eyes.

Well, perhaps you wouldn't mind being the one staring at him now.

⤿

⤿

[vaaaaaiolet]

He’s away on a mission, but you can’t get him out of your head. Like he’s whispering from miles away. You can't bear how Leon’s presence haunts you. And then one night, you snap.

mdni. f / m, shameless smut but no p in v i swear i'll write it properly ONE DAY. fem masturbation, leon has a rich people bathroom, praise kink, you want him like CRAZY, also i get poetic on you :( and what if it all might be mutual WHOSAIDTHAT

word count: 889 // read on ao3

a/n: mdni / 18+ only, i'm sorry. this is in celebration of reaching 69 posts LMAO also i listened to a lot of fetish by selena. rip pop songs killed by mumble rappers. i <3 u

When Leon leaves for the umpteenth time to chase down bioterrorism’s next Carmen Sandiego, you can’t help but be a little distraught. Pissed for lack of more pleasing verbiage. If the world needed your boyfriend so badly, it could date him itself. 

You were here first. 

And you miss him. 

His paycheck keeps you company more often than he does. It’s not the money’s fault that Leon’s Jacuzzi doesn’t even come close to the molten heat of his skin against yours. He’d left his penthouse to you for a month this time; pressed a kiss to the top of your head and snuck his hand up the curve of your inner thigh right before he disappeared, his whisper like the burn of scotch on rocks: 

“Take care.”

“I’ll keep your place perfect,” you’d ducked to burrow into his heartbeat.

“Not the place, sweetheart. You.”

You’re breaking down, you think. You’re being masochistic, replaying that final exchange over and over and over again as you toss in Leon’s silk sheets. Maybe you’re overworked. His cologne sneaks inside your lungs, his siren song reverbs in your head. Arousal pools like something notorious in the pit of your stomach and Leon’s still not fucking here.

Take care.

Of yourself? Well, if he insisted.

Something unseen jerks you toward his bathroom through your navel. There’s no negotiating, no autonomy over the shaking hands that untie Leon’s favorite robe from your waist, dropping it to the floor in a puddle of blue. 

Good girl. 

Your skin blooms into familiar goosebumps.

Into the tub now.

There’s ancient pleasure in lowering yourself into the warm water. Leon’s bathroom is no Roman bathhouse, but his Jacuzzi gets pretty damn close. It turns you lithe and lush – you’re a goddess in Leon’s palms, in the heat of the water as you dip your head underneath and take your sweet time coming up for air. You set the jets as gentle as they can go. The heat between your legs thrums, compliant with their pace for now.

Another unfortunate fact about your boyfriend: Leon’s like Midas, except anything he touches simply falls under his mercy. It works with you, and it works with the tub because if he were here, he’d turn the knob for the jets to fire at sporadic, impatient intervals.

Taking too long.

The spurts of water behind your back sit you straight up. Your head jerks forward, your hand falls between your legs because there you go, baby, was that so hard? It is hard, it’s unbearable to finally notice the impatient ache that you’ve let fester in Leon’s absence. You gasp as your middle finger brushes against that swollen bundle of nerves. 

Circles, baby. How would I do it?

Your head spins. Leon would click his tongue and brush your hand aside to press a kiss onto your weeping slit, cradle your clit between the bump of his nose and brow, make you cry with a whispered command. Your hips twist in agony. Memories burn and Leon understands that best.

You substitute as best as you can. Hesitatingly dip a finger inside. You don’t know what you’re waiting for because you’ve waited too long.

Little more for me.

Heat sparks impossibly under the Jacuzzi’s water as you grow bold within minutes, rubbing two fingers now in concentric circles, faster and faster. Leon’s somewhere on the other side of the world without a clue that his name’s being whined so pitifully. You sink a third finger in as your arousal mixes with water, bucking helplessly, hopelessly – you’re racing now. Pushing everything out and back in. Miles shrinking to feet. Is this the chase Leon lays down his life for? 

You need Leon to crack you open. You’re up to your knuckles now, his name sounding strung-out in your mouth as you plead to the skies. Where’s the plane bringing him home? 

Almost there. 

You don’t want to be close. Not without him.

You sound perfect. Doing so well.

“God!” You cry out loud. 

Just me, baby.

Embarrassingly enough, you break. You choke on the wave threatening to rend you apart. Pleasure courses between your legs, shipwrecking you in Leon’s tub, your thighs slamming shut as you keel over the tub’s ceramic edge. You’re scrambling to hold on to something to keep afloat as sparks light you on fire. Leon would snicker to himself if he was between your legs like you wanted, cooing pretty things into your ear, the rumble of his laugh stretching the ebb and flow of your orgasm out for however long he desires. He’d whet his appetite for the next time.

“No, no no no…” 

But infuriatingly, he’s not here, and the fireworks in your stomach turn into distress signals as your orgasm clams itself back up with no one to appreciate its showy colors. 

Leftover breaths rattle your ribcage as you stand in the tub. You’re doused in moonlight, a spotlight you don’t want. The strings of leftover slick lining your thighs get wiped away with a paper towel and shamefully shoved down a wastebasket. You can’t keep your hands to yourself for one night?

Pathetic.

And miles away, spread-eagle and groaning your name on stained sheets he’ll need to hide from housekeeping in the morning, Leon shares the sentiment. 

So good for me, Leon.

He’s weak too.

psst, find more of my work here!

comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <3 take care and i love you!

[azurefanfics]

Incoming call from Lover Boy <3

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x reader

Genre: fluff

Word count: 1.5k

Summary: A late night call from your lover Wonwoo after successfully wrapping up his second Tokyo concert.

Note: To celebrate Nana Tour coming to an end I decided to FINALLY write the fic idea I’ve had since episode 1. Please forgive my rusting writing skills - it’s the first fic I’ve actually written in years!

“Incoming call from Lover Boy <3”

The familiar nickname flashed up on your screen, causing you to pause in your reading, smiling slightly at the phone. It was just a joke at first - changing your boyfriend’s nickname in your phone to see how he would react, but the sheepish pink blush that painted his cheeks whenever he caught a glimpse of it drove you to keep it that way ever since.

Your phone continued to buzz angrily, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“What’s up?” you questioned, picking up the phone right away. It wasn’t unusual for Wonwoo to call you when he was away, but you knew he’d just wrapped up a concert that night and usually he’d prefer to either celebrate with the boys or just sleep, especially this late.

“Sorry baby, were you asleep?” a familiar face came into view, picking up on the slightly sleepy tone of your voice and voicing out his concerns.

“No, I was just finishing up this chapter, don’t worry. Is everything ok? What happened to drinking with the guys?” you asked, turning your camera on in turn.

“I had a drink already, but I thought I’d turn in early or else I’d be up all night with those idiots. We do fly out at 6 am after all.” The rosy flush that dusted over his features revealed the truth in his statement, as he shook his head fondly at the questionable sleeping habits of his members. “Besides I couldn’t miss out on speaking with you, it’s the highlight of my day.”

This made you smile a little to yourself. Although you’ve never doubted your boyfriend’s love for you, it still felt good to hear that your presence lights up his day in the same way his does to yours.

As you continued chatting about anything and everything - mostly the boys’ antics during the concert - Wonwoo began to remove the remnants of his stage makeup and get ready for bed. You did the same, basking in the moment of shared domesticity despite the ocean between you both. Despite all of the moments you’ve shared together, perhaps watching him sleepily rub his eyes with makeup remover is the most romantic of them all.

Before long, Wonwoo was done cleaning his face and headed back into the hotel bedroom as the two of you chatted. The lights went out with a click and you heard faint shuffling noises as Wonwoo struggled with his clothes. Eventually, he turned on the bedside lamp to reveal himself lying down, shirtless with his glasses on and his head on the pillow.

“You should take your glasses off hun, that’s got to be uncomfortable”, you chastised him, “and that can’t be good for the frames either”.

“No, I want to see you properly”, came the petulant response, “I won’t be able to actually hold you until tomorrow so this is the best I can get”.

“I can’t wait until you’re home.” you sighed. Although it had only been a few days, the pandemic and the fact that you were able to go with them on the last tour meant that times where you’d been away from Wonwoo were few and far between. Although the two of you had been very lucky in that regard, it did make time apart more of a struggle.

“Me neither, it’s not the same sleeping in these hotel rooms without you…”, he sighed. “I’ll be home tomorrow though! Do you have any plans? I know you’re working but maybe we could have a night in? We can watch a movie and order food? Oh! We should try out that new pizza place near ours, you know, the one Mingyu was talking about?”

“Oh yes! He made it sound so good - I’ve been wanting to check it out for a while! We should get extra and then we can have some leftovers for breakfast the next day!”

“…Babe… What are you talking about…. Pizza isn’t breakfast, you monster.” he deadpanned. At this, your cheeks puffed out a little in frustration.

“Breakfast can be whatever you want it to be! You can’t convince me that you had a healthy breakfast every day when you were living with Mingyu!”

As you continued to bicker back and forth about the validity of various breakfast(?) foods, you took a second to admire your breathtaking boyfriend. Even with his face smooshed into the pillow and his glasses askew, his handsome features and plush lips pulled into a subtle smile never failed to make you swoon.

Eventually the conversation turned to your days, catching up on everything that had happened since you last spoke. Although yours was quite uneventful - “just my manager being an idiot, as always” - Wonwoo was full of stories of shopping with the boys earlier that day.

“And then Hoshi just ran away with Coups’ crutches! He was just sat there on the floor pouting!”

As you giggled at his latest story, Wonwoo couldn’t help but join in as well. Your laughter never failed to give him the deepest joy - he would share stories until his throat ran dry, just to see you smile. He’d even endure the endless teasing from his members to buy magazines with his own face on to bring back to you. He didn’t understand why you needed them when you had the real thing - “They’re good to make collages out of, ok? Don’t judge me!” - but he’d dutifully bring them home to you to catch a glimpse of that bashful blush and shy smile of yours.

As your giggles died down, a wave of exhaustion washed over you and you couldn’t hold back your yawn. Despite doing your best to stifle it off camera, your ever attentive boyfriend still caught on.

“Are you tired baby? Sorry for keeping you up, we can always catch up tomorrow instead”, he said apologetically.

“No, no, if anyone should be tired it’s you. You’re the one that just finished a whole concert! Besides, I like hearing you talk. Tell me more about your day”.

At your gentle prompting, Wonwoo launched into another story about Dino’s latest antics. Despite his animated retelling of the members bullying their maknae, you felt calmed by his voice and felt yourself slowly being lulled to sleep. As your eyes drooped further, a gentle “sleep well baby” was the last thing you heard before your eyes shut completely.

—

The next morning you wake up to a text received at 4 am:

‘Sorry honey, we’ll have to take a rain check on our plans today. I’ve been kidnapped’

‘We’re going to Italy. I’ll bring you back some limoncello to make it up to you x’

You wracked your sleep-addled brain trying to make sense of his message before you remembered - Youth Over Flowers! You felt a slight twinge in your chest at having to cancel your date night, but that was quickly overtaken by excitement for your boyfriend, whom you know has never been to Italy before. You had considered visiting together in the past, but you’d never been able to make it work with your boyfriend’s packed schedule. Your boyfriend had rarely been able to go abroad for leisure at all in the past, let alone with almost all his members. The fact that Na PD somehow managed to surprise the boys, despite them losing all hope of the trip actually happening, just made it that much more sweet.

As you set to work looking up restaurant recommendations in Italy to make sure that your boyfriend was able to enjoy his trip to the fullest, a knock sounded on your door. Jumping out of bed and pulling on a dressing gown, you quickly made your way to the door.

“Pizza for Y/N?” It was the pizza place you’ve been wanting to try.

“I don’t think I ordered this? Do you have the wrong place?” you responded, bewildered.

“It was ordered to this address under the name of Jeon Wonwoo. There was a note left on the receipt.” At that your heart swelled, and you accepted the box gratefully from the delivery driver.

As you settled down at the kitchen table with the still hot box, you unfolded the receipt and took in the message your lover left for you.

“Sorry I can’t be there today baby. Please take this as my peace offering while I’m off expanding my pizza horizons in Italy. I hope you have a good day at work, can’t wait to see you soon! 10 days can’t go by fast enough. Please wait for me a little longer love <3”

You smiled softly at the thought of him, bleary eyed, having to pack all of his belongings in a rush, but still taking the time to think of you.

You took a bite of the piping hot pizza covered in your favourite toppings - delicious. Who ever said pizza wasn’t a breakfast food anyway?

[anyarose011]

"Crawling Back to You" {Aemond x Reader}

Summary: It started with a night out in King's Landing, then a fake name, and then a disagreement. Some time after cooling off, and after a job gone wrong, you and the one-eyed prince come to...an understanding in the rain.

Part 2 of 3 (Masterlist)

Warning(s): Oral sex (f and m receiving), nudity, groping, talk of death, swearing, canon-typical injury, sexual harassment (not done by Aemond), and mention of past child SA

Heyyyyyy pookies. So I just started my senior year and it's been hectic. BUT I hope this long ass chapter (it took me forever) makes up for it! I'm also not sure how accurately I'm writing Aemond. I mean, I know HBO is making him into the edgiest edge lord, but I'm taking creative liberties i guess. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 8.5k

 “It’s a pleasure to finally put a name to your face. One that fits its beauty.” He smiled.

You lowered your gaze, fighting the smile on your lips. It was a stupid compliment, one that you had heard several variations of the rare times men would flirt with you those days. But…it felt different from him.

Still, you merely scoffed, setting the jug on your hip. “Do you want to lead the way, or should I?”

“Go ahead; considering you believe I’ll harm you somehow.”

“See?” You decided to tease instead of defy as you began to walk up the cobbled hill. “You are funny.”

Aemond scoffed, following you. “Did I ever deny it?”

“How you reacted when I first said it never gave me a clear answer.”

“Shouldn’t you change?”

You looked back at him. “What?”

Unashamedly, his eye trailed over your body and yours soon followed. Your nipples were perking through the thin material of the dress.

“Seven Hells.” You cursed, bringing the jug in front of yours.

Aemond came to your side, a hand on your back and leading you up the hill. “You don’t wear a corset?”

“Not with this. I’m meant to lure lustful men, remember?”

“Perhaps you can tell me where you tailor so we can get more appropriate clothing?”

Hell no.

“Or,” you suggested. “I could teach you how to properly steal something?”

“You need to be able to not draw attention to yourself to do that.”

“I’ve done it before.”

“I have no doubt, but the clothing off a man’s back?”

You paused for a moment before replying. “Yes, actually; I even managed all of one’s undergarments.”

Aemond shook his head, pulling his hood farther up to hide his smile. “I mean more so with that dress.”

“It might surprise you, but that is how I robbed him blind.”

“I mean in the sense that-.”

“-I understand.” You shut him up, but not aggressively. The two of you passed by more and more people through the many alleys of King’s Landing. When you got to the main roads, you would’ve lost Aemond in the crowd if it weren’t for the fact his hand had traveled from your back to your arm.

Maybe it was because he was paying you, or maybe it was because you didn’t know how touch starved you had been until it felt like his hand was simultaneously burning and soothing you; but you welcomed his touch.

As you continued to brave through the busyness of the city, you managed to spot a hobbling man wearing a long cloak with a drink in his hand. You smirked at your companion.

“Are you watching?”

He nodded, and how he looked you up and down briefly didn’t escape you. “I’m watching.”

You handed him the jug of water and approached the slightly incapacitated man. You pitched your voice up when you asked. “Ser?”

The man glanced up at you through hooded eyes, and he grunted in response.

“Are you alright?” You feigned concern, wrapping an arm around his shoulders to hold him up.

“Aye.” He sighed. “Much better now that you’re here.”

You giggled, leading him. “You’re too kind.”

“If it’s possible, could that kindness be repaid?”

“Let me at least have your name first,” you turned him down a spacious alleyway where there were less people. “Then I will know what to scream.”

“Gaius. You may-oi!”

You snatched the cloak right off his shoulders and took off in a mad dash down the rest of the alley. Turning your head over your shoulder for merely a second, you were graced to watch as the drunk man stumbled over his own footing before two hands in front of you grabbed your arms. Once you were pulled around the corner, you raised your hands to strike your assailant; to which he caught both of them.

“Is it truly that easy to rob Smallfolk?” Aemond asked, not letting go of your wrists.

Snickering, you pulled away from him. “I thought you said you were watching me?”

“I was.”

“Clearly not.” You slipped the cloak over your body, tying it. “You were lurking in the shadows.”

“I still saw you.” He retorted.

Shaking your head, you bent down and picked up your jug of water on the ground. Then, you stuck your hands into the pockets of the cloak. Your face lit up, and your retracted your hand, holding four pennies in your palm.

“Come with me.” Was all you said before walking past him and continuing down the street.

Aemond was by your side once more. “And where exactly are you taking me to?”

“Are you fond of sweets?”

“I enjoy them, but rarely indulge.”

“Then I will be more of a temptress tonight without having to show any of my skin.” You said excitedly.

All the prince did was smile; somehow trusting your ‘madness’. It was a short walk from where you were to a small stand in one of the several market corners of King’s Landing. Despite the long line, you pushed to the front, ignoring all of the comments and curses from the people.

“Evening, Marija.” You greeted the older woman. “Oh my, has someone bewitched you? You look younger!”

“What do you want?” She sighed your name tiredly, but a pleasant smile was on her features.

Sliding the four pennies onto the counter, you said. “Two dishes of Northern Snow.”

“Do you have two other pennies?”

“This was all I was paid.” You sighed. “You know how short everyone is on coin.”

“Precisely why I need every bit of what is owed to me.”

Shaking your head, you lowered your voice. “Do you see the man lingering behind me? The one with one eye.”

She glanced over your shoulder for just a moment, long enough for it to look like an accident and not a stare. “Yes?”

“He’s a rich lord from Essos,” You began the lie with a truth. “and he has fallen in love with me.”

“You have always told marvelous tales, but even for you-.”

“-Marija…I have a good feeling about him.” You spoke with more insistence. “You know that doesn’t happen very often.”

The older woman looked at you for a little longer, as if to try and pick apart your deceit. Then, when she could find no trace of it, she sighed heavily. Still, she brought out two small vanilla cakes and laid them on the counter, then brought out the bowl of puffy cream.

“You better invite me to this extravagant wedding of yours.” She frosted the cakes with the cream, creating a fluffy topping that looked as if it was true snow itself. Marija then drizzled melted chocolate over both cakes before handing them to you. “Considering this handsome stranger is wealthy.”

“He is strange.” You chuckled. “A bit arrogant too, but I shall live.”

“All men are arrogant.”

“You have not met this one. Thank you, Marija.”

“Sure, sure,” she scoffed. “Give me your water as well; I’m parched.”

“Only if you give me the jug back. I need it.”

“I’ll come around tomorrow and visit Yelena in the meantime, is that alright?”

Your smile fell for just a moment, before forcing it back. “Sounds great!”

Rushing away, you could barely hear her goodbye before you soon found Aemond again, handing him the dish. His nose wrinkled as you immediately sunk your fork into the pastry. “What is this?”

“Northern Snow.” Your answer was somewhat muffled by the amount of food in your mouth. “Marija’s traveled across the realms and has been popular for her desserts. The snow is just whipped cream with sugar and some rosewater.”

“The brown parts?” He poked the treat.

“Chocolate, but it’s meant to look like horse droppings.”

“I believe I’ll pass.”

You shook your head. “I’m meant to be showing you around the joys of the city that is not just brothels. Trust me.”

He matched your seriousness. “And if I find it revolting?”

“Then you may know where I tailor.”

Humming, he smiled as he dug his fork into the cake and then into his mouth. He pursed his lips together as you watched him ponder the taste. Then, he shook his head, taking another bite.

“You must be a witch to have known I would favor it.”

Smiling victoriously, the two of you walked a short while through the congested market until you managed to find two chairs and a table.

“What did you tell her?” He asked as you sat. “The woman who made this?”

“That you were Prince Aemond and would have my head if I did not serve you a Smallfolk delicacy.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“No, I didn’t.” You agreed, taking a bite of your treat. You hesitated on your next words. “I…she’s a romantic, and I didn’t have enough for the cakes, so I told her you were a rich lord courting me.”

It was nice you didn’t immediately expect him to lash out or condemn you to your death; he seemed genuinely composed every time you were with him, and he stuck to that.

“And what was my name?” He humored.

“I didn’t tell her one.” You teased. “If you were not yourself, what would you have wanted to be called?”

He hummed, taking time for an answer before settling on. “Ciarán.”

“I’ve met one or two of those.” You nodded. “It’s a good name.”

“Might I ask you a question now?”

“Of course.”

“Do you summon your knife out of thin air, or do you hide it in your cunt?”

Choking on your food, you placed your hand over your mouth to stifle the sound. Once you were alright, you finally looked at him. “I beg your pardon?”

“The rumors I’ve heard of you isn’t just about your beauty.” He grinned, knowing the effect on you. “It’s known that you assault men with a blade, but I’ve heard conflicting accounts.”

You stared at him for a little longer before shaking your head, snorting. “Inside of my thigh, like a normal person. You nearly grazed it the first night.”

“Did I?” He tilted his head to the side.

Nodding, you smirked as you took another bite. It was then that his eye darkened just a hint. “What?”

Aemond didn’t verbally respond. Instead, he bunched up the sleeve of his shirt, reached over to take your face into his free hand, and wiped the corner of your lip with his sleeve. “You had something white on your face.”

It was your turn to hum at his statement, continuing to eat; yet, you would glance at him more often while you slid the fork into your mouth, tongue trying to lick the utensil clean of the whipped cream. You both finished up in silence between each other, yet the people around you only chatted excitedly, laughed boldly, or moaned and fucked one another in the dingiest of places nearby.

“Is it fun to be a prince?” You asked, pushing in your chair when you bother stood to leave.

“I wouldn’t call it such.” Aemond shrugged, following suite, and the two of you were wandering aimlessly once again.

“Then what is it you do for fun?”

“I find myself in the library often; reading, studying the history.” He listed. “I train with Ser Criston Cole, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard and the Hand of the king.”

“You sound like you enjoy his company.”

“I enjoy making him falter as we spar.” He looked at you. “You mustn’t be so horrible in combat. On account of you supposedly taking men’s lives for bounties.”

Shaking your head, you place your hands in the pockets of the cloak. “I don’t take pride in it. I’ve also had my fair share of bruises and broken bones.”

“How many have you killed?”

“How many have you?”

Your response would’ve only worked if it had not been for the well-known fact he had killed Lucerys; something you had forgotten when you saw him again. Now, there you both were, your pace slowing equally in the silence that was the discomfort you had created.

Still, he responded. “Only one; and I assume you along with the rest of Westeros knows who by now.”

Nodding, you kept your eyes down on the road in front of you.

“Aren’t you going to ask how I did it?” He questioned.

You shook your head. “It’s not my place. If you wish to tell me, then tell me. If not, then I believe it’s your turn to ask something about me.”

Humming, he prodded. “Again, how many men have you killed?”

“The same as you.” You stood closer to him as a crew of rowdy men began to pass by. “He was an angry man; a ratcatcher fired from his profession, and to my luck, with no family or anyone to miss him.”

“It must have been his luck as well, considering what happened to all of them merely a week ago.”

You didn’t want to acknowledge the gate into that conversation. “I had only done the luring and thievery for a single moon; the worst I had come across was a bloodied nose and a bruised rib. This night…Chansey had warned me not to pursue him, but I was young and ignorant. I didn’t even get to the well before he came up behind me and…”

This was far too intimate of a story to tell someone you had only met twice; nonetheless, one of the princes of Westeros. You decided to end it as soon as possible. “He didn’t hurt me in the way you’re thinking. We struggled against one another, I had no knife with me at the time, but he did. He dropped it as we fought, we both reached for the blade, and I got it first.”

The two of you had somehow wandered into a small, quiet square; perhaps only a few other people resting from a drunken bender. Aemond, with his hands behind his back, simply inquired.

“Did he have anything of value on him?”

Shaking your head, you grinned. “Three pennies, a half-penny, and a surprisingly clean red scarf.”

“And the scarf was the most priceless.”

“Of course. I would’ve died in the winter without it.”

You both chuckled, and it was him who halted the walking. You stopped in front of him a few places.

 “I hadn’t meant to kill Luke.” Aemond admitted softly.

“Lucerys?” You clarified.

“Yes; only frighten him.” He sighed. “It…it was an unfortunate outcome to what I had intended.”

If he were not himself (perhaps the rich Lord Ciarán he wished to be for that one night), then you would have told him it did not matter what he intended. A boy was dead and that put all of Westeros at risk. Still, whilst your anger was present, you understood you would never know what happened that day. You also understood his regret above all; you had no right to act like a saint.

“Is there anything I can do?”

You genuinely had no idea how to respond to him. So, you did what your mother had done for you whenever you were upset as a child: Ask what you needed from her.

His eye met yours, and you somehow found the courage to not look away from him. After what felt like a lifetime, he approached you suddenly and gradually wrapped his arms around you. Your body was akin to a corpse with how frozen you had become. Still, it didn’t last for long as you found yourself easing into his hold, your own arms around his neck. The night was so quiet, you could hear his shallow breaths in your ear.

Then, his hand slipped into your pocket.

At the sudden change of touch, you flinched out of his touch, but he merely shushed you, pulling away fully. You reached into the pocket and pulled out what he had promised you; three silver moons.

Swallowing thickly, you looked up at him and saw…an array of emotions you could not describe. So, you spoke first.

“I…I hope tonight was enough for you. I’m not sure what else I-.”

“-It was nice.” He interrupted, his gaze still on you. “Lovely, even.”

Nodding, you pocketed the moons and kept your hands at your side. “I bid you a goodnight, Little Prince.”

He rose his brow. “I don’t believe I gave you permission to call me that.”

“Will you have my head then, your grace?” You taunted.

“I should.” He walked closer to you. “But I won’t. What direction is your house?”

Your heart leapt; yet, not in the way it should have after an attractive man (you would later admit) made a forward remark.

“Oh no, I will not bother you.”

“It is not a bother if I desire to see you home safely.” He argued.

“Aemond,” you stepped back, not wanting to play a game. “I don’t want you to walk with me for the rest of the night.”

The quietness returned; but, not one of comfort. He didn’t look angry, and that was what frightened you. He merely stood tall like a man.”

“I see.”

“I didn’t mean to say it so-.”

“-Yet you said it.”

Shaking your head, you tried again. “I offended you, and I’m sorry. My house is no place for anyone other than myself and-, not even other smallfolk.”

“I wouldn’t go inside if that is what worries you. I am merely curious.”

“Look,” you approached him again, only for him to step away. “if you wish to see me again, I wouldn’t mind at all-.”

“-As long as I have coin.”

Your face went blank for a few seconds you had been so shocked by his words, and soon formed a scowl. “You had offered.”

“You didn’t reject it.”

All you could do was laugh. “You-!”

He wasn’t the one to cut you off, it had been yourself. Taking a deep breath, you folded your hands over your mouth to ponder your next words. You were tired, frustrated, and wanted to go home. So, you did exactly that.

“Be safe on your journey back to the Red Keep.” Was all you said, and you brushed past him, expecting him to call you a nasty name, or chase after you again.

But, like the first night you had met him: He did nothing.

A week later, you were back where you’d always been at night: Sylvi’s brothel. As you prettied yourself, the girls were restless; not with enthusiasm for the clients, but for the talk of war. Whether it was the fear of death it would bring, or the lust for strong men to take comfort inside of a woman.

You were a part of the former. Not as horrible as some girls (you found one vomiting up her dinner after the discussion), but you had to admit you were judgmental of those excited about it. You yourself had never experienced war…but if it was just a smidge like the violence you and other women had ever suffered multiplied by a thousand…it wasn’t something you were looking forward to.

Later, you waited in Sylvi’s private quarters (the one place no one is allowed to go during work hours unless she permitted it) until it was Chansey who came, saying she had quarry for you.

She had been with an older, retired member of the Lannister guards. He was three and fifty, she told you; fucked like an animal, but when it was over, while he desired to do it again, his body ached so horribly he could only walk.

It was meant to be easy…but for any reason at all, it wasn’t that night.

You stumbled as you brought your knife out, and he unsheathed a dagger from his side. You fought and fought, it almost being like a twisted dance; he’d strike, you’d doge, and vice versa. He swiped against your side, and it stung but you had no time to even seethe in pain as he brought his blade up to stab you again.

He’d gotten tired sooner than you imagined, and you grabbed onto his sleeve, then dragging him into a handful of barrels nearby. He landed in a crash, and he wasn’t getting up. He was still breathing as you looted him. A few Coppers and a silver Stag.

It was only then, as you pushed your way through the boisterous crowds, that you felt your head begin to lighten, and your side grow heavy. Looking down at the gnawing pain, you saw crimson soak your thin gown. Oh…you were wounded.

“Chansey?” You called out over the groaning of whores and their patrons once you made it back to the brothel. The lights seemed dimmer than usual, and with one hand keeping pressure on your wound, you used your other to tap the shoulder of the nearest server.

She gasped upon seeing you. “What happened?”

“Where’s Chansey?” You asked.

“She-she’s with someone.”

“Seven Hells, already?!” Sighing, you took one of the chalices off her tray. “Fuck it, I’ll do it myself.”

And you took it in one gulp. The server gaped at you as you took another one, also downing it like it was water. “Thank you.”

Her voices of worry were once again drowned out by the sound of constant pleasure from every corner of the brothel. Now, what the server did not tell you, was that it wasn’t the cheap wine usually served to the common payer; no…it was incredibly rich, and incredibly strong.

It also didn’t help you barely ate or drank water that day. So, to no one’s surprise but yours, you were stumbling through the entire pleasure house.

“Needle and thread?” You slurred, pulling open one of the curtains abruptly only to see five naked women lying next to two men. “Sorry.”

You felt the blood begin to seep through the small cracks of your fingers and your pressure wavering as you made your way to the next curtained area.

“Do you have a needle and thread?” You asked again, being welcomed by Valda laying on her back with a man’s head between her legs.

She screamed at your intrusion and cried your name. “What the fuck?!”

“Hey,” in your haze, you found it amusing. “do you know where Chansey is?”

“Get out!”

“Okay, okay.” you whistled at the man. “Good ser, I do declare that you are a gift from The Seven because only They know how many men actually come here to-.”

“-Wait, are you bleeding?!” She sat up in alarm.

You left immediately, taking deep breaths to try and remain upright as you continued your search. A hand grazed your shoulder.

“Are you alright, girl?”

A putrid looking man questioned with a toothy grin as you turned briefly to see who touched you. You nodded. “I’m fine, go away.”

“Hey now,” he tried to make a grab for you again, but you shoved him off. “don’t be like that.”

“I’m dying, I think I can be.”

“Let me give you a little death.” He flirted.

You grabbed the nearest curtain, tossing it aside. “For fuck’s sake, does anyone have a-?!”

Words failed as you gazed upon Madame Sylvi sucking the cock of a standing man. It was then that your eyes traveled up his body, and saw a familiar, silver-haired prince.

A prince with one eye shut, and a sapphire where an eye-patch should have been.

Your mouth ran dry at the sight of him falling apart in whimpers, and it dropped once his eye opened and immediately went to yours.

Aemond released a loud groan, tossing his head back as cum dripped through the creases of Sylvi’s mouth. She drew herself away from him, still on her knees, wiping her mouth and looking over at your interruption.

“What in the devil’s name are you doing here?!”

Your words fell into syllables as you genuinely had no idea what to say. Then, in the corner of your eye, you saw the man that had been following retreat.

“Hey!” You yelled, hobbling after him. “You sheep fucker, get back here!”

Two hands grabbed your shoulders and turned you around sharply, causing a reminder of the wound in your side. You hissed, clutching it and trying to smother a cry. You kept your head low as the person who had manhandled you led you back into Sylvi’s small room. You were laying on the pillows and thin mattress. It was then you saw Aemond Targaryen hovering above you.

“No-!” You tried to push him away.

“-Calm down.” He insisted, restraining you. “You’re going to make it worse.”

“If you touch me, I’ll carve out your other eye and feed it to your mother.” You slurred.

Instead of killing you right there, he thinned his lips. “While I don’t doubt that, you shouldn’t need to worry; I’m well spent.”

You gagged, shutting your eyes in disgust and tossing your head further into the pillow you rested on. You felt a presence soon beside you, and you opened your eyes to see Sylvi.

“My prince,” she turned to Aemond. “please wait in my personal quarters and I’ll-.”

“-I’ll hold her down.” He interrupted. “She’s a fighter, if you don’t know.”

“Believe me,” she unscrewed a bottle of alcohol. “I do.”

Sylvi hiked up your dress, completely exposing you from the waist down, and poured liquid over your side, causing a squeal to escape your throat. In an attempt to not just remain calm for yourself and everyone else in the building, you did your best to stifle your cries. It only became harder to do once Sylvi stuck a needle in your skin.

That was when you instinctively rose yourself up, only for Aemond to force you back down, putting his entire weight upon you. Your hands traveled up to his bare shoulders, sinking your nails into his skin and even scratching in an animalistic attempt to get him off of you.

Tears welled in your eyes as you took in quivering breaths and suppressed your grunts in pain. It looked like everything was underwater, and you could barely make out the face of the man above you. You only saw the shimmering jewel where his left eye should’ve been.

Then, the pain was over.

Your heartbeat began to slow down, and it was no longer the only sound in your ears. Your body rose momentarily as you felt bandages being wrapped around your waist, and your dress finally lowered, covering your nakedness. You felt a warm hand brush your face gently before it pulled away abruptly.

“What did you do now?” Sylvi sighed, tossing her materials away.

You groaned, unable to move. “Bad job.”

“And so, you decided to come and bother me?”

“Chansey was fucking someone and I-.”

“-Watch your words!” She lightly slapped your face and whispered fiercely. “Prince Aemond is here, and I will not have you speak like that.”

You laughed, glancing over at Aemond, who had put his pants on, and was working on his shirt. “Do you hear that, Aemond? I can’t say ‘fuck’!”

“Are you drunk?” She hissed.

“Nooooo.” You trailed off before giggling.

Sylvi stood, placing her head in her hands and shaking her head. Now noticing how strange the whole situation was, you pushed yourself up. Your body was scalding, but you would rather die walking away from embarrassment than in the heat of it.

“He had some coin.” you sat up. “I don’t know where it went, but I’ll find it. I have to go home now.”

“You are not walking out like this.” She pushed you back down.

“I’m not sleeping here.”

“I’ll take her back.”

The prince stood tall, slipping his patch over the sapphire. Sylvi shook her head. “No.”

“Are you questioning my authority, Madame?” He challenged.

You watched her flinch. Then, taking a breath she explained. “You needn’t bother with her; she’s a humble, little thing that doesn’t listen to anyone other than herself. Besides, you requested and paid for two hours, yet you have only used twenty min-.”

“-I will gladly spend the rest of it escorting her home.”

Again, the only sounds being heard was skin slapping alongside loud moans outside. You looked in between the prince and the Madame as if you were a child being fought over. So, coughing, you sat up again.

“Can I wear my own clothes, please?”

Sylvi, for the first time that night, coddled you. “Of course. Aemond, could you tell the first girl you see to fetch her clothes from my quarters, please?”

He nodded, leaving you two alone. When he was out of sight, she brushed the hair sticking against your sweaty face.

“Tell him you changed your mind, and you’re too weak to walk.” She begged.

“And if he says he’ll carry me?”

She scoffed. “He won’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

Sylvi kissed your cheek as if to soothe you. “I don’t want you to be alone with him.”

“He told me he already had his fill of cunt.”

“Men can still hurt little girls without their cock.”

“Take a look at me,” you sassed. “don’t you think I already know that?”

She said your name softly. “He’s not as kind as he seems.”

“No, he’s not. He acts like he’s been born out of an ass’ ass. I mean…how you feel about the Dowager Queen-.”

Slamming a hand over your mouth, she spoke in your ear. “-Not another word from you. You listen to me; I’ve come to know him for the years I’ve spent with him longer than the weeks you have had with him.”

“If he’s so horrible,” you took her hand away. “then tell me what he has done.”

“He-.”

“-Never mind, I don’t care.”

Instead of stepping into the room, Aemond had tossed your set of clothes through the curtains, landing on the floor. Without words, but with looks that could kill, Sylvi helped dress you and then led you out of the brothel.

It was downpouring, and while your clothes thankfully covered almost every inch of your skin, save for your face, you weren’t in the mood to be bathed in rainwater. Sylvi hadn’t even wished you a proper goodbye; just nodded to a hooded Aemond beside you and went back inside.

“I assume you can walk?” He asked, almost annoyed at his own idea to walk you home.

“You’re not going to carry me?” You teased.

“No.”

Sighing dramatically, you took a few steps out into the rain, and immediately felt agonizing pain. Well, not as bad as earlier, but it hurt. Still, you decided to follow the best given advice: Walk it off.

“Stop, stop.” Aemond shook his head after you limped four more steps, coming to your side. “Lean against me.”

You didn’t argue, draping your arm over his shoulders. You both walked as quick as you could in the rain, you giving him directions the best you could (he had to turn around twice to go back to the same fork in the road) until you tapped his shoulder.

“Wait-wait, I don’t feel good.”

“Seven Hells.” He cursed, pulling you over to the side of the street. Grabbing your hands he placed them on the nearest wall, standing behind you to guide you.

“Hey, hey!” You rose your voice. “Don’t-don’t you even think of hiking my skirt up!”

“You’re going to smell like death in a moment, why would I ever-?”

“-Because men are…are…”

You gagged, and Aemond’s hands immediately vanished as you threw up what little you had eaten that day. Your throat was on fire the whole time, making the chill of the rain even more apparent.

“Oi!” An older man yelled. “Are you alright, ma’am?”

You nodded, wiping your mouth and turning over to look at him standing in a doorway of his shop. “Yes, thank you!”

“Do you know that man with you?”

Before Aemond could say anything, you pat his shoulder affectionately. “I’ll have you know, this is Lord Ciarán of House…Strong…Man, Strongman. He’s one of the richest men in Westeros.”

“Is that so?” He nodded, then looked at your companion. “Lad, do yourself a favor and put your old lady to bed.”

Aemond forced a smile, taking your arm and returning it back to its proper place over his shoulder. The two of you were on the road again, you leading him blindly throughout the streets. The rain felt nice at this point; not exactly, but your throat had been parched, so most of the time, you were holding your mouth up and tongue out like a child to catch the rainwater.

At one point, he hissed in pain, his hand coming up to his eyepatch.

“What is it, what’s wrong?!” You gasped.

“Nothing.” He cursed. “’Just keep going.”

Reluctantly, you carried on through King’s Landing until you reached your home.

“Okay, we’re here.” You stopped him a few minutes later.

Aemond looked at the building before him; it was a bouchère. “Here?”

“No, down there.”

He followed your gaze, and sure enough, there was a set of stairs to the side leading down. Carefully, you both scaled down the steps, and entered your home.

There was no leaking anywhere, to your surprise. With only the little amount of light within the sitting room, you knew Aemond (even with one eye) could see just how much dust there was on the furniture.

“Hells,” he sighed heavily, slipping off his cloak before you could stop him. “how do you live in this humidity? I can barely breathe.”

“I-.”

“-Vivi.” A sweet, tired voice called for you.

In the corner of the room, in her usual chair, was your grandmother. Her eyes drew up to the door once you entered, and they were alight.

“I thought you were out for too long.” She stood.

“Evening, Gigi.” You staggered over, embracing her. “And how was holding down the fort?”

“Some mice almost came in, but I showed them who was the boss around here.”

“I’m sure you did.”

It was only then did she fully realize there was someone else with you; a man. A man with silver hair. She gasped, turning back to you.

“Siobhan, you didn’t tell me the king was visiting!”

You cackled. “Gigi no, this is my friend-.”

She gently took his hand into hers, kissing it. “-Your grace, you must forgive my dear girl; she has a knack for getting into trouble, but not for telling me things.”

And then, Aemond did something you weren’t expecting. He placed his other hand over your grandmother’s, smiling.

“All is forgiven.”

Her grin was contagious as she pulled her hand away to hike her long skirt up, walking to the kitchen. “Oh, I shall make tea! Imagine what Cassian would think?” She chuckled. “Jaehaerys himself in our house!”

The name she uttered sobered you up; not all of you, but enough for terror to return into your body. Once she was out of sight, with a growing fear in your eyes, you looked at Aemond.

“You-you must understand, she hasn’t been herself since I was a child. I don’t think she’s even aware there is-was another-.”

“-I’m not a fool.” He stopped you. Noticing you had the face of someone who would vomit for the second time that night, he said. “I told you; I enjoyed reading the histories. I’m well aware the king before my father was Jaehareys.”

Feeling as if you could breathe again, you rested against the wall. “Thank you.”

Aemond hummed. “Why ‘Gigi’?”

“She never liked me calling her ‘Grandmama’.”

“And who’s Siobhan?”

Your eyes drew to the ground. No mice were in the house, but a few spiders had made their way in. “My mother.”

“Ah.” Was all he could manage.

“She uh, she died when I was one and ten; that’s when Gigi…”

“How?”

“What?”

“How did she die?”

Something clogged your throat, and your head felt heavy all over again. Swallowing the lump, you tried to find the words to-.

“-Forgive me. “Aemond spoke. “I shouldn’t have prodded.”

“No, you-.” You shook your head. “I understand your curiosity.”

And there you two were, against the wall in silence. Sighing you finally said.

“She forgets what she was meant to do when she enters a room with a purpose.” You explained. “I guarantee you, she’s doing a puzzle instead of making tea. We don’t have the best leaves anyway.”

He nodded. “Do you wish for me to leave, then?”

Your eyes went to one of the only windows in the house; the long, thin panel at the top where you could see the feet of everyone in King Landing if it were a nice day. The rain came down harsher, the spattering of water being almost too loud.

“You can stay until the storm eases,” you answered. “if you want.”

“I would prefer it.”

Nodding, the heaviness of your head did not cease, and your eyes drifted to the doorway in the back of sitting room. You made your way through it, glancing back at Aemond.

“If I may be candid, I’m quite exhausted. So…unless you’d prefer being called ‘Your Grace’ by my grandmother, then you’re more than welcome to talk with me in my room.”

“Hm, the former sounds tempting.” Despite his words, he followed close behind you.

You pushed open your door, took a few steps towards your bed, and lowered yourself to lie down with a sharp wince. The prince took his time observing your room, taking in every little detail. From the residue of a mess being pushed under your bed, to old childhood art pieces up on the wall.

One piece had caught his eye the most. A sketch of a woman’s face; a haunting gaze in her eyes that would make anyone believe she was watching them.

Much like yours…

“This is Siobhan?”

Better to use your mother’s name as if she were a stranger instead of calling her ‘your mother’.

“Gigi drew that.” You smiled lightly. “It was on one of her namedays.”

“It’s beautiful.”

His compliment unnerved you before it flattered you. You deflected with a joke. “Beautiful enough to have her paint the Targaryens the next time they so desire it?”

“If she cannot remember to boil tea-?”

“-She is herself again when she does or speak of things she loves.” You sat farther up against the wall behind your bed “Even if they’re things that no longer are with us.”

He sat at the edge of the mattress. “And what are some of those things?”

Oh, where to start? As your mind rattled over what exactly to say first, you truly looked over Aemond for the first time. It was strange; you had acknowledged his attractiveness for just a moment, but never delved more into it.

Then, as you stared at him, you knew exactly what to tell him.

Giggling, you began. “Cassian was my grandfather; I hadn’t known him, he died before I was born. Still, if it’s not him she speaks about being in love with, it’s ‘Elio’; a Dornish man, her first love.”

“Some might say they are far greater than the one you marry.” He shrugged.

“She’s never told me his real name.” You leaned forward. “She said that he had to keep it secret from her for a long time, and he only told her after she got drunk, and he thought she wouldn’t remember.”

The two of you laughed lightly, and you kept going through your giggles. “He-he was only in King’s Landing for a year and went back to Sunspear. They would send ravens to each other, but then he stopped one day. She married my grandfather, had my mother, he died, and that was life.”

“And then there was you.”

You nodded, thinning your lips. “And then there was me.”

“You’ve talked about your mother, but you haven’t mentioned your father yet.”

Sighing, you rubbed your finger into the blanket you rested upon, looking away from him. “When my grandfather’s heart gave out, Gigi had to take on more work at the tailor’s and they still weren’t making enough for food. So…my mother took up working with Sylvi. She was fifteen, and Sylvi only let her cook and clean. When she was of age, she let her go to bed with the men for her coin. I could’ve walked past my father, and I wouldn’t be able to know.”

Aemond stared at her, nodding. “You’re a bastard.”

“It’s the one time I enjoy being smallfolk.” You shrugged. “I can just as easily lie and say my father died while married to my mother.”

“No one else knows?”

“Sylvi and Marija; the woman who gave us Winter Snow.” You scoffed. “Some old neighbors who’ve thankfully died, but I still remember their insults as I passed by them when I was just a child.”

He hummed, and you did not blame him for not saying anything after you. The two of you just existed in your childhood bedroom, the rain still beating against the roof, but not quite as hard this time.

“What were you like when you were a boy?” You questioned.

“Not like my brother or nephews.” He answered right away. “They…teased me a lot.”

“I’ve never had brothers or sisters, but aren’t they meant to?”

“Not like how they did.”

Oh…so it was bad. You wouldn’t ask him how horrible it was, knowing that there are some things no one would ever want to speak of.

“I’m sorry they did.”

He shook his head. “No need, it was years ago.”

“It was still wrong.”

Aemond didn’t say anything; didn’t even look at you. Then, for some reason…you felt compelled (maybe even okay) to tell him. “My mother she…died the same way my grandfather did.”

“His heart.”

“We-we think so. It’s strange though; she was so young, and just one night we were eating dinner, she stands to go tend to the fire…and she fell. It…it was as if her soul had been sucked away from her and all that was left was her body.”

“And you think you’ll die like her.”

Swallowing thickly, you had hoped he didn’t see right through you about that; but at the same time…how freeing it felt to be seen even in the most shameful and terrifying moments of life.

“She was the main provider for our house.” You went into more detail. “Gigi tried her best, but it wasn’t enough. My mother…Sylvi hasn’t told me everything she did to earn enough coin, and I don’t think I want to know. Many healers have said that people dying from a bad heart at such a young age is due to stress. I don’t know if they’re right, and even when I was one and ten, I did everything in my power not to feel so, but Gigi would wander around King’s Landing late at night, or we couldn’t afford food for days on end…”

You were vomiting all of your troubles onto him, it was disgusting; but, once you started, you couldn’t stop. The storm had picked up again, and from how the wind shook the walls of your room, you thought they would all crumble.

“Sylvi knew of us struggling, and she paid for our meals. I was to become an indentured servant to her, like how my mother was; cooking, cleaning, running odd errands…but she paid me in coin as well. I think-I think she thought I was going to follow in my mother’s footsteps when I was of age, but I refused. That’s when some of the girls and I came up with a way for me to make extra coin, and here we are.”

“She never let anyone younger than seventeen be a whore?”

For a moment, you pondered how that was the one thing he got from your nervous ramblings. Still, you decided it wasn’t best to think about it. “She didn’t want men bedding little girls.”

“I suppose it’s different for girls.”

You frowned. “What do you mean?”

“It was my thirteenth nameday when my brother brought me to Sylvi’s pleasure house.” He said it as if it was common knowledge. “He said I needed to know everything there was about women. Your Madame certainly taught me well. It makes sense I suppose; girls are taught to be more ashamed about it.”

Even with the storm still going outside, the only sound you could hear was the beating of your own heart. “…What?”

You remembered what it was like when you were that age. Your body felt strange, you bled between your legs for the first time, you wanted a husband right away one moment, and then wanted to be a child forever the next. You were good at talking to men who were older than you…but…being intimate? No…and Sylvi had…Sylvi had-?

“Is something wrong?”

If you were delusional, you would say he seemed concerned. Still, if you were to tell him that what Sylvi had done was hypocritical and despicable of her, you would go red in the face with tears, and he would only spit on you and say you wouldn’t understand, and-.

“-Your hair.” You said, having been staring at it whilst your mind rushed. “Has…has it always been curly?”

Aemond scowled, not in scorn, but in puzzlement. It must’ve started to dry as he spent time in the house; it must’ve been frizzy and horrible as well. “Yes.”

You forced a smile. “And here I thought only the ladies of the night burned their hair since men favor it straight.”

“Mothers too.” He sighed when he saw the look you gave him. “It curled more by the time I was fourteen. She had the servants straighten it for me ever since; I believe she hates anything about me that is a reminder that she is my mother.”

“Aemond…”

“I don’t need your pity. I’ve been with her since I was born, it is nothing new and I have-.”

You don’t know why you reached forward and combed a strand of his hair between two of your fingers. Maybe it was because you were still tipsy, or maybe it’s because you just wanted to. He flinched upon your touch, and so did you.

“For-forgive me,” you backed farther up your bed. “I-I forgot myself and I-.”

He brought himself forward, taking both of your hands. Without looking at you, he brought both of them into his hair. Almost like it was second nature, you began to gently run your fingers over his scalp. He shut his eye, his hands traveling to drape along your waste, and he bent his head to rest upon your chest.

It was strange. Strange but nice. You were holding him, but just to have the illusion of you also being cared for…not even your grandmother had done something like this for years.

“I like your hair just how it is.” You whispered after a minute. “If it matters at all.”

He merely hummed, his hand travelling under your shirt. Your breath hitched when you felt his finger caress the skin above your wound. Your hands did not still, continuing to comb through his hair softly.

His finger traveled farther up, circling the swell of your breast. You made a noise you hadn’t made before, and you thought you sounded ridiculous. He hummed against your chest, and…

And…

Something between your legs felt like it was beating; like your heart, but it wasn’t that.

“I’m going to touch you there.” He mumbled against the fabric of your shirt. “Alright?”

No, no it wasn’t alright, but it was at the same time.

It wasn’t okay because you’ve only heard stories about this from the girls at the brothel, but it was okay because-because you liked him, and he was-

and you were-

and everything feels warm-

and the way he talked to you-

and the way you-!

“Get off!” You whispered once you heard just the lightest of footsteps outside your door. He listened, backing away quickly to the edge of the bed. An almost silent knock came from your door, and you smiled. “Come in!”

Gigi pushed herself in, holding a tray with two steaming mugs, setting it on the bed. “I’m so sorry, your grace. We do not have tea leaves, so is milk alright?”

Aemond nodded. “It is.”

“How have the both of you been?”

You wore a thin grin. “Fine.”

She nodded, looking in between the two of you. As if she knew what had just taken place, she gave a wry smile and turned to leave. “Well, the rain is dying down now. Let me know if you two need anything else.”

“Thank you, Gigi.” You said without another thought.

She didn’t shut the door when she left. You picked up the mug, took a sip and immediately felt your body heal just a little. Warm milk does numbers on a soul.

“I should take my leave now.” The prince stood up abruptly, dusting himself off.

You tried to stand. “I’ll walk you out.”

The wound at your side burned every inch you moved, and you did a horrible job concealing it. Aemond gently took your shoulders, pushing you back down.

“Rest.” He commanded. “You’re injured, and it’s late.”

“And when have you ever cared?” You teased

“Perhaps just now.” He matched your tone.

“Do you know what I hate?”

“Me? Life itself? Men?”

“Yes, to the last two.” You feel your chest constrict at what you would say next. “I hate that you told Sylvi you would spend time with me because you paid her for…other things previously.”

Aemond tilted his head to the side. “Is that so?”

She nodded. “You…you no longer have to pay for my company. You’ve seen me in turmoil, and I’ve seen you naked.”

He laughed…he laughed in a way you’d never heard him laugh before. “Is that what makes us allies?”

“Friends?” You reworded. “You understand the meaning, don’t you?”

“Of course I do.” He scoffed.

“So…are we friends now?”

Friends who touch each other in ways they usually don’t.

A hint of a smile spread across his lips. He took your hand and kissed your knuckles. “Friends.”

You dropped your face, hopefully to avoid him seeing how you blushed. The damage was done though. Regaining yourself, you took a deep breath and looked at him.

“And…I’m aware I won’t be the first person you’ll seek if you’re in distress, but please know I will help if you need it.”

“Do not call yourself inadequate.” He shook his head. “I might have some use for you.”

You scoffed. “How considerate of you.”

“Rest now.” He repeated, turning to leave without a proper goodbye.

You sat up. “Wait!” Aemond did not turn to look at you, but he stopped. “Your eye. When you were walking me home, you were in pain. Does it still hurt?”

He was silent. For a moment, you thought it was to come up with a lie, then you assumed it was to find the words to tell you the truth…you had too much faith in him for either.

“It’s late.” He said your name softly and walked out of your bedroom. You heard the front door open then shut.

And there you were, on your bed, alone with an undrunk mug of milk.

The rain had completely stopped.

[hurthermore]

hrr okay so request! may you please write some vox x reader smut? maybe its readers first time and she's hella nervous and mr egotistical has no idea how to comfort her abt it since he's usually oh so rough but he tries being softer just for her?? i love vox so much im insane but TYYYY!!!!

»»------► 𝙰 𝙵𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝙵𝚊𝚖𝚎 (18+)

Pairing: 𝚅𝚘𝚡 𝚡 𝙵!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

Word Count: 𝟷.𝟿𝚔

Warnings: 𝙵/𝙼 𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝, 𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢, 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎, 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚋𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚅𝚘𝚡 𝚘𝚠𝚗𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊 𝚍𝚘𝚖 𝚞𝚗���𝚒𝚕 𝚅𝚘𝚡 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚛

A/N: 𝙸'𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚎… 𝙸 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚊 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚊 𝚍𝚘𝚖 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚋 𝚊𝚜𝚏 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝙻𝙼𝙰𝙾 𝚒'𝚖 𝚜𝚘 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚍; 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚎𝚜

𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚍 𝚜𝚘 𝙸 𝚊𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚒𝚜𝚎

The last thing you were expecting after dying was being dragged down into the pits of a reddish hell. You were practically America’s sweetheart for crying out loud, you were the star of the late 1950s; always nice to your fans, and not to mention that you had raised and donated millions to charities across the world with your wealth.

Why the fuck were you in hell?

Storming down the street, you pushed over some slimy looking man as he walked a bit too close to you. “Move it, jackass.”

You really had no clue why you were brought here.

But you weren’t about to let that ruin what you had. Sure, you were dead; but you were still living. You would just build yourself up again.

And you did.

It took barely a month before you became the talk of hell, but it wasn't good enough for you. You craved for more power, craved to see yourself plastered over every building, poster and billboard.

So when an upcoming overload that had control over the majority of the media output in hell who called himself Vox came seeking you out; he offered you a deal that you couldn’t refuse. 

He would give you the fame you desired until the end of time, and in return, he wanted your absolute loyalty; your body, your love, and your life.

You signed instantly.

After your contract was set in stone, you found that Vox had enacted his side of the deal pretty much overnight. You remember the day vividly; your face on the cover of everything, letting all the vermin sinners bask in your lovely existence, and to know of your arrival in hell. From then on, you were back to your high celebrity status that you had attained whilst you were alive. 

At first, all Vox made you do was go on dates with him; which was an assortment of him taking you to restaurants, clubs, or his penthouse, which was something you found yourself enjoying more than you thought you would. But as time passed, he began growing more confident in asking for you to hug him, to kiss him.

One night, he had asked you to come to his penthouse, and as you sat in his lap, laughing whilst he took a shot from in between the junction of your breasts, he confessed that he had a thing for you whilst he was alive.

“Oh, so you no longer have feelings for me, Vox?” You whispered into his screen as he leaned back into the loveseat.

The light that emitted off his face only flooded itself with a hint of luscious pink as he huffed out, closing his eyes before opening his mouth. “You know I still have a thing for you. It’s why you’re currently sat in my lap.”

Giggling, you pushed yourself against him, walking the tips of your nails against his screen. “I know, but I want to hear you say it; properly.”

As he looked at you with his glowing eyes, he placed a hand around the fat of your hip. “I’ll tell you, on one condition.”

“Do tell?” You asked whilst leaning your cheek against him, stroking shapes into his chest.

You could feel his chest rumble before he spoke. “You let me fuck you.”

Instantly you stilled upwards, sitting back to look at him. He didn’t like how your body had left his; didn’t like how you looked almost disgusted as the words left his mouth.

“Look, Vox,” You began, your hands gesturing as you spoke. “I like you, don’t get me wrong, but I promised myself never to fuck someone who I worked with or for.” You confessed; but with the alcohol in your body, you said more than you had meant to. “I’m still a virgin for fuck sakes, I can’t-”

Freezing up, you realised what you had said. The alcohol in your body seemed to sober up as the shock of realisation settled in.

Why did you have to admit that to the man who practically owned you?

Vox could only look at you in disbelief. He had read and heard so many scandals about you fucking your way into stardom when you were both alive; but despite that, he knew you were telling the truth. Placing a hand on your thigh, his sharp tips caressed you. “You don’t work with or for me though, sweetheart.” His teeth showed with his growing smirk. “I own you.”

As you looked down at him, you couldn’t deny the connection you had built with him. You did like him; moreso, you liked what he could offer you, you liked the power he held, and despite his nonhuman face, you did find yourself finding him quite the looker.

Despite all the suitors you had attained in your living life, you had never found someone attractive enough to stand by your side. Leave it to you to find the fucker with a television for a head be the first guy you actually liked.

Ridiculous.

You were already dead, you may as well find out what the fuss about sex was.

You would give him your virginity.

“Fine. But you better fuck me how I tell you to fuck me.” You spat at him before you smashed your face into his, kissing his strange face that could weirdly produce a 3D touchable projection of a tongue that was so wet. Grabbing the sides of his screen, Vox could only groan as he found the entire interaction the hottest thing he had ever witnessed. 

He couldn’t believe he was about to fuck the woman who he had wanked off to throughout his years alive.

Despite his usual roughness during sex; craving control over his sexual partners, he would, for you only, allow you to dictate his pace. 

You pulled away from the heated kiss before standing up; Vox reaching for you as you stood, but halting once you began to slip the dress off of your body. As it dropped to your ankles, you stepped out of it confidently, basking in your own ego as Vox seemed absolutely starstruck as he gazed over every crevice of your body.

Looking up at you, his dead heart pumped all the blood from his body into his cock as he watched you place your hands on your knees, squeezing your breasts together as you leaned toward him. “You wanna fuck me, Vox?” For the first time in his life, Vox’s eyes blew out as he found himself lost for words.

How the fuck had you managed to make him so nervous? You were the virgin; not him.

As he nodded slowly, allowing red pixelated drool to seep from the rim of his screened lips, you placed a hand on his shoulder, leaning over him to make sure all he could see was you. “Then you better put me somewhere more appropriate; this is no place for a lady to lose her virginity after all, is it?” You whispered in his face.

With a newfound confidence, Vox stood up before pushing you back slightly, grabbing the thick of your thighs before you could actually fall; forcing you to jump up and wrap your legs around the small of his waist. As he carried you towards the bed across the room, he shoved his tongue down your throat, drinking up the wetness of your mouth as your sharp teeth prodded his tongue throughout the kiss.

You had expected Vox to be a tad rougher considering who he was, you knew he enjoyed being rough, so when he gently laid you down on the bed, you were surprised. Leaning over your figure, he began to undress himself, grinning cockily when he slapped the tip of his sex against your thigh. “This appropriate enough for you, sweetheart?” He mumbled as his fingers grazed over the slit of your heated core.

Hissing in pleasure, you glared at him. “You better be gentle, or I'll crack that stupidly handsome face of yours.” You cried out as he plunged a finger inside of you.

You were not expecting it to feel so good already.

His smile only covered almost the entirety of his screen as the red drool only became more prominent; you thought he was handsome?. “Sweetheart, you can threaten me all you want but we both know you’re at my mercy.” He added another finger into your wet sex, making you moan ever so slightly. “But because it’s you, I’ll do whatever you fucking want.”

You could only sigh as his fingers pulled away, only to be replaced by his cock as the tip teased your entrance. You closed your eyes as a slight stinging sensation began to flourish where he was slightly prodding into you. 

Gripping onto his arms to ground yourself, he kissed you with a softness you weren’t used to from him; he was always rough whenever he had kissed you before; this contrast was very welcome. 

It made you feel powerful as he executed your demand of gentleness.

Whining into the kiss, he slowly forced his way into you, scorching your core with a pain you weren’t expecting. “You need me to stop?” He whispered as he felt your face contort into discomfort. Looking into his glowing eyes, you felt your heart race as you felt his cock halfway inside of you. Shaking your head, you asked him to continue before you let him devour your mouth with his tongue once more.

As he slowly forced the rest of his cock inside of you, you felt drops of sweat begin to form on your forehead from the pain. But as he pulled back, fucking into you at a slow pace, the pain began subsiding for pleasure, and you naturally became more receptive to Vox’s kisses and thrusts; meeting him halfway as you began to lift your hips up to meet his.

You could only start babbling his name along with loud moans as the pain fully disappeared; only pleasure deriving from his cock pulsing and pushing inside your cunt. Gripping his screen, you gritted your teeth in strange pleasure as one of his corded wires began sending electrical shocks into your clit.

“You’re so beautiful, but you know that don’t you?” Vox moaned as his thrusts began to become more rough as he started to feel his balls tighten, indicating his orgasm was soon approaching. As you nodded your head, he watched your body move up and down on the bed as he fucked you. He was going to cum into your cunt. He could feel it edging slowly; so he made the electrical shocks more intense on your clit to force you into your own orgasm.

Screams of pleasure were all he could hear from your lips as he could feel the electrical pulse from his wires press into your clit. Gripping your hips, he rammed himself into you at a pace you weren’t expecting, your eyes rolled up as your thighs began to shake uncontrollably; your mouth stuck in a gasp as you felt yourself cum on Vox’s throbbing cock.

Letting out his own groan, Vox finally allowed the tightening of his balls to release as his orgasm shot into the walls of your slick heat, sinking his claws into your hips as his screen glitched through the ordeal.

As he came down from the high, he looked down into your after glowed face, basking in how you looked even more beautiful than you ever had before. 

He couldn’t deny that he felt something a bit more than just a crush in that moment.

“I have more than just a thing for you.” Was all he whispered.

»»------► 𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

[ghost-proofbaby]

fictional boyfriends (e.m.)

summary: eddie gets jealous of your newest fictional boyfriend from a game he got you into.

warnings: kinda sweet. kinda cringe. eddie is jealous of astarion. twilight reference jumpscare. not edited. biting and vague mentions of sex at the end.

wc: 2.5k+

a/n: this is the dumbest, cringiest thing i have ever written. but on this side of town, we embrace the cringe <3 happy valentine's day, enjoy me combining my current favorite fictional men (astarion and eddie) for my own personal delight. maybe one day i'll write a serious fic regarding the biting kink

It’s not that biting had ever been off the table with Eddie, per se.

Nips between kisses, using a little more teeth when he’d kiss across your neck, a joking sinking of your teeth into his shoulder when you were vying for his attention — they were all normal occurrences between the two of you. There was just never much discussion about it. No conversation explicitly had in which the two of you said, “Why, yes. This is something I’d like to bring into the bedroom.” 

Until that damn game.

When Eddie introduced you to Baldur’s Gate 3, the last thing he expected was to watch all your free time you used to spend pestering him suddenly handed over to some fictional vampire. He thought it’d be a game you tried, grew tired of, lost interest in, and that was that. Nothing more, nothing less. He didn’t expect a sudden competition for your goddamn affections. 

“Baby, please come to bed,” he all but whines as he drapes himself over your shoulders, trying to nudge off your headphones. He could feel just how warm your ears had grown beneath them. He swears he can feel your back crack from the slightest bit of his weight on your shoulders. And, sue him — he was tired and he wanted to cuddle. 

“One more minute,” you mumble the same phrase to him that he has used a million times on you; he instantly knows it’ll be far more than just sixty more seconds if he agrees, “Let me just finish this-“

“No,” he’s still whining, but it’s more stern now as he properly removes your headset, earning a glare from your bloodshot eyes, “You’ve been playing this game all afternoon, sweetheart. I think I might die if you don’t offer me some immediate attention. Truly.”

For emphasis, he lays more of his body weight on you, your chair creaking from holding up both of you now. 

“Eddie,” you moan out, wiggling beneath his dead-weight, “I swear to God, get off of me-“

“I’ll get off of you if you come to bed.”

You pause. Your hands hover near your keyboard and mouse, but you’re no longer walking your avatar across the world of Baldur’s Gate, and he knows he has you considering it.

More weight. More groans. At this rate, he’s questioning if your chair won’t break from his outrageous method to get your attention. 

“Fine.” 

The small yes he lets out only earns him a punch to the shoulder. But it gets you off the game, and that’s still a win for him.

He doesn’t even care about appearing over eager as you follow him back to the bedroom. He’s gone as far as preparing the bed, pillows fluffed and comforted pulled back while awaiting your arrival. He’s already washed his face and brushed his teeth (something he usually fights you on as you nag him before bed), and the moment he’s got you in the room with him, he’s dragging you right onto the mattress with him.

“You’re gonna hurt us!” you yelp as he wraps his arms around you and flops down, dragging you with him, but it’s through a laugh. He knows you really couldn’t care less — he’d never deliberately injure you, irritated about your newest fictional boyfriend or not. 

“Oh, no,” he mocks, rolling so you’re laying on top of him, “What ever will you do if I injure one of your precious wrists, and you can’t use it to flirt with your new boy toy tomorrow?” 

“Astarion would be devastated,” you giggle into his chest, not moving off of him despite all your protests. It’s nice — to feel the full weight of you, to just get to bury his nose in the crown of your head as he shamelessly inhales the sweet lingering scent of your coconut shampoo, “He’s even needier than you.” 

“Yeah, ‘cause you serve as his functional juice box.”

“I do not!” you wiggle against him, and it only makes him tighten his arms, “He’s needy because he loves me.”

“Well that makes one of us.” 

Your head lifts off his chest in an instant, faux offense shadowing your features, “You tryin’ to say you don’t love me, Munson?”

He smirks, pressing his lips together tightly, making you huff in frustration. 

Of course he loves you. There wouldn’t be a ring in his sock drawer that he’s terrified of you finding if he didn’t. 

You pout, subtly and adorably so, starting to lift off of him, “If you’re going to be mean, I’m just going to go back to someone who appreciates me-“

“Mean?” he scoffs, enjoying himself far too much. He’s missed your attention, your affection. The effect it has on him is similar to a high, making him dizzy on serotonin as he rolls over and pins you between him and the mattress, “Oh, baby, that’s not me being mean. I can show you mean, if you want.” 

He’s always thought you looked prettiest like this. Under him, eyes wide as you look up at him as if he’s the only thing in this room worth looking at. Worth more than your prized bookshelf, more interesting than all the various posters the two of you have hung on the walls. You look at him as though he’s the greatest thing to exist in these four walls, and he doesn’t take it lightly when your favorite albums and candles are right there.

“You don’t have a mean bone in your body, Munson,” you whisper softly, face going soft for him. The two of you are still surely joking around, the playfulness of it all thick in the air, but there’s something genuine in your words that makes him even more enamored with you. 

He should have predicted you’d fall for Astarion when he showed you the game. You had a thing for people who put up the tough front, but who really just needed a little extra softness and patience under the surface. He was living proof of it.

Unlike your fictional vampire boyfriend. 

“Yeah?” he taunts, leaning down until the tip of his nose brushes yours. His hair works like a curtain, messy as ever as he shields the two of you from the outside world. One of your hands have crept up so that you palm rests against his cheek, and he can hardly remember that flare of jealousy that had gnawed at him when you’d spent your entire afternoon absorbed in the game instead of him, “I bet I could be meaner than Astarion. Although, I’m not sure just how mean that man has ever been to you, given all the war crimes you commit for his approval-“

He’s cut off when the thumb of the hand cradling his face trails up, pressing on his bottom lip. It only makes him grow even closer to you, pressing in, drawn by your touch.

You squint your eyes at him jokingly before cooing, “Someone sounds jealous.”

“Damn right,” he doesn’t even try to deny it, caught in the web of your trap with ease, “Does your pixelated lover even know what a catch he’s got?” 

You snort adorably at that. He pulls away to see the full force of your laughter, lifting up into his elbows to admire how your face scrunches with your smile. He bets Astarion would make some sarcastic comment about it — about the crinkles by your eyes that he aches to pepper with kisses, about the indents in your cheeks when you smile this wide, about the sound of your genuine laughter when you unrestrained and entirely comfortable like this. But there’s not a single joke forming on Eddie’s tongue. He’s all but hypnotized. 

God, he fucking loves you. So much so he’s jealous of a video game character.

“I’m not sure I’d consider this,” you lift the hand not holding him carefully still to motion at your current state of being, “A catch, my love.” 

He has to disagree. Messy hair or not, wrinkled pajamas or not.  You’re the greatest catch of this entire existence; not just Eddie’s, but the Universe’s. Nothing you could say or point out would deter him from this belief. He loves you, mess and all.

“My love?” he chooses to tease instead, all the words of affection threatening to choke him if he so much as considers letting them pour out, “I like the sound of that. If that’s the Astarion effect, maybe he isn’t so bad after all.”  

His elbows are sinking deeper into the mattress. With every passing second, his face is dropping closer to yours, and he’s not sure if it’s by instinct or choice. But when his lips finally brush yours, he decides it’s all the same — it doesn’t really matter what sort of gravity is at work here, as long as it keeps bringing him down closer to you.

“Shut up about the game and kiss me, Eddie.” 

He doesn’t have to be told twice.

The kiss is as sweet as ever. A comfortable dance that still sends shivers down his spine. If either of you looked closer at his arms bracketing your shoulders, you’d see the goosebumps raising as you eagerly returned all his affection.

You taste like the chocolates you’d been snacking on during your gaming. You taste like the greatest gift ever given, and he doesn’t care if he’s exaggerating or not. You’re divine — his favorite good morning and his only goodnight. 

And he’d say all that, but you’d probably accuse him of trying too hard to be like Astarion. Probably bring up that ridiculous line the character once said about you being made by the Gods, just to ruin him.

You were, though. Made by the Gods, specifically to ruin Eddie. Fuck the game. 

“You know,” he whispers against your lips, breaking for air as he adjusts positions. Your thighs open up and welcome him home, letting him slot right between your legs comfortably. He’s not trying to seduce you, but he can’t even be mad about it. He feels like a starved man now that your attention has been divided as of late, “If you wanted a lover who bites, all you had to do was ask, darling.” 

If you weren’t so wrapped up in the kisses he was pressing down your jaw and along your neck, you would have ripped him to shreds for the awful impersonation. 

But you’re already far gone, lost in his touches and his adorations. You let the half-assed attempt at a British accent slide, and you even bare your neck to him at the minute threat. 

Biting had never been off the table, per se, and Eddie was really fucking glad for it.

When he presses one, two, three greedy kisses to that sweet spot just below your ear, he has one intention in mind. Not his usual sucking and nipping and soothing, not leaving behind one of his ordinary love bites. No, he lets himself get caught up in the moment, and when he catches that quiver of excitement the moment he drags his teeth over your neck carefully, he’s fully committed to his decision.

He bites.

Not hard enough to draw blood, or even be terribly painful. He knows it’s nothing like the game or any of your subsequent fantasies you might have had from it. His canines are fairly dull, even as they dig carefully into the skin of your neck, holding for a moment for effect. But your legs tighten around his hips, and he almost wishes he was a damn vampire, able to actually pierce your skin in the moment. Drink your blood. Whatever the allure was with the origin companion.

You let out a soft gasp which has him keeping your skin between his teeth a few extra seconds, and then he’s letting go. Lifting his head and looking into your eyes, a silent exchange of is this okay?

If the glazed over look is anything to go off of, it’s more than okay.

He returns with reckless abandon, switching between his usual desperate kisses and the newer, sharper ones. He has one goal in mind: to mark you up as his, to the point in which you’ll be scolding him in the morning. It’s like a drug, to feel you writhe beneath him as he paints the picture. 

Love notes of freshly born bruises, the imprints of his teeth – a letter across your delicate skin that reads, he was here, and he loved you, more than anyone else in this Universe may ever be capable of. 

“If I had known how much biting would rile you up, I would’ve started doing it ages ago,” he mumbles into the crook of your neck, finally pausing his assault. 

He settles for softer presses of his lip, peppering the affection where he had been a bit more violent. 

Your hands that had taken to tangling into the curls at the nape of his neck have gone more relaxed, no longer tugging but instead just lingering. Pulling him closer. Touching him with softer hands than he’s ever felt deserving of. 

“Guess you’ve got a certain vampire to thank for that,” you tease, but he can hear just how breathless he’s left you. He had sworn he could feel the pulse of your facing heart beneath his lips, even if just for a moment. Even if he just imagined it. 

“Please. Astarion is not getting the credit for that,” he scoffs, lifting up onto his elbows again to just look at you. His lover, his favorite person. It’s nice to see your face when it’s not washed over with the cast of a computer screen. “That was all me. And even if it wasn’t, I won’t forget that you had a Twilight phase.” 

Your hand quickly drops between the two of you, only to smack at his chest. The thump holds no weight as you whine, “I told you that in confidence.” 

He dips down, capturing one last kiss, “It’s okay, baby. It’s good to know that you have a type.”

“I do not-”

He cuts you off with a more playful bite to your neck. Less about marking you, and more just to make a point. 

“Just,” another nip, “admit,” another graze of his teeth, “it.” 

You’re fighting a smile when he looks down at you again, impossible to hide behind your mask of annoyance. “I am not admitting that I have a thing for broody, pathetic vampires.” 

“Well, I’ve got broody and pathetic down-”

“Eddie,” your thighs still bracket him, one hand still clinging to the back of his neck. When you say his name, the game is over. “We can spend all night bickering over the fictional men I love, or you can give me a reason to forget their names. It’s up to you.” 

His eyebrows jump up his forehead, and he’s just about to give up the bit, but not before one last snide remark.

“Kind of hard to do that when I share a name with one of them, but as you wish, sweetheart.” 

Another bout of beautiful laughter from him. Another smack on the chest from you. It’s good – it’s everything Eddie has ever wanted, and it is good.

He does, of course, make you forget their names. And if you find it difficult to get out of bed the next moment, dramatically unable to make the walk to your gaming computer, well – he won’t try to hide his smug smile in between the soft rays of morning light.

eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87 @thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @aysheashea @kellsck @cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking @witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore @mikiepeach @ali-r3n @hawkebuckley @alwaysbeenfamous @darkyuffie-blog @vintagehellfire @lilmisssiren @elvendria @loveryanax @stylexrepp @princessstolas @fangirling-4-ever @eddiesguitarskills @babez-a-licious @josephquinnsfreckles

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[katnisspeetaprim]

Father Figure

Lucifer Morningstar/Platonic!TeenReader

Summary: You'd had a hard time in the sort while you'd been alive, so when your new boss shows you kindness like you've never seen, you can't help but be suspicious...

Warnings: Platonic relationship, teenage fem reader, implied drug use, implied sex work, implied underage sex, dead beat parents, assault, swearing, panic attack, crying, angst, fluff A.N; not sure if I will write a part 2 yet, see how this does!

Word Count: 3102 Hazbin M.list

Hell was a scary place for someone like you. Being a teenager in Hell was less than ideal.

Your parents were useless, always too coked out of their minds to care for you, so you left.

Due to your unfortunate circumstances, you had to resort to some... less than kosher means to survive. It was awful, but it’s all you could do.

One night, one of your clients wouldn’t take no for an answer so when you tried to fight back, things went bad for you.

So here you were.

Luckily, under princess Morningstar’s new work programme, all new sinners would be provided with a job to get them started, if they accepted the help that is. And that’s how you came to be the King of hell’s live in maid.

You’d finally found your way to the mansion, after getting lost multiple times. You felt somewhat intimidated as you stood before the large doors. It just now hit you that you’d be working for the devil himself. The thought made your blood run cold. Why would they give such a high profile job to someone like you? Maybe because you wouldn’t be able to cause any trouble? Either way you couldn’t back out now.

Swallowing back your nerves, you raised a hand and knocked on the door.

Almost immediately the door swung open to reveal a short man, who seemed a little too keen to interact with you.

‘Why hello there! Something I can help you with?’... Was he waiting by the door?

‘I uh- I was told to come here to work?’ You handed him your work certificate, and he quickly scanned it over before breaking out into a smile.

‘Wow! I didn’t expect to get someone so soon!’ It was only after Lucifer read the paper, did he properly look at you. His smile faltered slightly.

‘Uh sorry to be blunt, but you look a little... young?’

‘Well I’m 16.’ You laughed nervously. ‘Is that not ok? I promise I’ll be a good worker!’ Lucifer frowned deeply at your sudden panicked rambling.

It wasn’t uncommon for people to die young, but to end up in Hell?

He knew Earth could be a terrible place, but what could you have done at such a young age to end up here.

‘No no! Just me thinking out loud haha.’ Lucifer quickly backtracked. ‘Please come in.’ He moved to allow you to pass by, now smiling again. You entered, realising you were only slightly shorted than him as you passed by.

Maybe working for the Devil wouldn’t be as scary as you thought.

‘You have no idea how long I’ve needed a maid. I hate cleaning!’ He sighed out dramatically.

Over the coming months, you’d settled well into your job. You suppose you had it easy when it came to jobs in Hell. Cleaning was pretty easy.

Lucifer mostly left you to your own devices, thinking you wouldn’t want to hang out with an old man like him, but that didn’t mean he didn’t make an effort with you.

The first time he approached you in the middle of the day, was to gift you a mobile phone.

‘Hey!’ He slid up to you out of nowhere, making you jump out of your skin. ‘Realised you don’t have a phone! Can’t check in if you don’t have one of those!’ You weren’t used to receiving gifts with no strings attached, But Lucifer didn’t seem to have ulterior motives, so you tentatively accepted.

‘Oh! I’ll even give you my daughters number! You two will get on like a house on fire!’

Another encounter was on an evening. Lucifer was finishing up his supper, when he aught sight of you scurrying round the foyer. He called out for you to come over.

‘Have you eaten yet? It’s getting pretty late...’ You couldn’t help but feel touched that he was seemingly looking out for you.

‘I still have a lot to do... I’m a little behind today...’ You trailed off, worried about being scolded for being tardy.

‘Nonsense! Please join me, there’s way too much for just me anyway.’ Lucifer insisted, jumping up and pulling a chair out for you.

‘Are you sure that’s ok?’ You asked, still a little reserved of his kindness.

‘Of course! Always happy for the company.’

Lucifer could read you like a book. He knew you were still nervous and skeptical of him, but he couldn’t blame you. He still didn’t know the circumstances for you to end up in Hell, plus you were so young, it would take a lot to trust.

Even though you worked for him, Lucifer couldn’t help but feel protective of you.

One of the more recent incidents, was when you got hurt.

The house chef was running out of ingredients, so he asked you to run out and grab them. You happily agreed since you didn’t really have any reason to leave the house otherwise.

Ok. Maybe you’d gone a little over bored, you thought as you juggled the heavy bags in your arms.

‘Hey baby! Need some help with those?’ You looked over and saw a group of 3 men leering at you. You smiled nervously and said ‘ No thank you.’ Before turning round, hoping to get away without any trouble.

‘Hey do you know who your talking to? Don’t be rude!’ One of the men grabbed your arm, causing you to drop your bags.

‘Don’t touch me!’ You screamed out, trying to pry your arm from his grip.

‘We were just offering to walk you home lady, but if you want to get down here, that’s fine by us.’ The second man sneered at you with a smirk as he grabbed your face hard.

Your eyes widened at his words. You were now struggling even more, to no avail. The final man cam up behind you and grabbed your other arm in an attempt to keep you still.

‘Stop struggling will ya!’ The man in front of you spat out, shaking you by the arm. He shook you so violently, that the long sleeve of your dress began to rip. You took advantage of this. Pulling your arm back so hard, your sleeve came off in his hand.

The attacker behind you hadn’t been expected you to fall backwards, so he lost his grip on your arm, giving you just enough time to book it in the direction of Lucifer’s home.

You could hear them running and shouting after you, but you didn’t look back. It wasn’t far now. You just had to make it back to the house and you’d be safe.

Bursting through the main doors, you immediately fell to your knees and cradled your head in your hands as you hyperventilated.

‘Y/N!? What the Hell happened?’ Lucifer had heard the slam of the door so he came out to investigate. He hadn’t expected to find you having a panic attack in his entrance hall.

He was kneeling by your side in an instant, placing a comforting hand on your back. As he looked closer at you, he saw that your sleeve was ripped, with a bruise forming round your wrist. When you looked up at him with wide, teary eyes he also clocked some bruises on your jaw.

Lucifer’s eyes immediately darkened.

‘’m sorry I-I lost the groceries...’ You stuttered out with a shaky voice.  Lucifer’s face immediately contorted.

‘Y/N I don’t give a damn about the groceries! I want to know who did this to you.’ Lucifer was aware of how angry he sounded, but he was honestly offended that you thought he cared more about some groceries than you.

You cowered slightly at his raised voice and Lucifer felt bad. He took a deep breath to calm down before speaking again, much more softly this time.

‘Please Y/N, I need to know who did this.’

You looked up to him and you could see the genuine concern in his eyes. You tried your best to get your sobs under control so you could speak.

‘There was a-a group of three rough looking guys not far from here...’ Lucifer groaned internally. He knew exactly who you were talking about.

They were a group that had been causing trouble round the are for a while now, but he never had a good enough reason to get rid of them... Until now.

Lucifer stood and extended a hand to you with a smile. You hesitantly took his hand and he helped you to your feet.

‘Go get cleaned up ok? I gotta go out for a while.’ He ushered you towards your room.

‘Ok...’ You trailed off sadly.

‘Great!’ Lucifer grinned widely at you as he opened a portal. He stepped through before leaning his head back out to address you.

‘And I don’t want to see you doing house work when I get back, kay?’ he tipped his hat before dashing back through. Then the portal closed.

‘Evening gentlemen.’ The three men from earlier swiftly jumped up from their card game, to see Lucifer leaning up against the wall, blocking the exit to the alley. They all immediately shrunk back when they saw it was him.

‘oh your majesty... What brings you to our hideout?’ Lucifer started to slowly walk into the alley, never tearing his eyes away from the men, making them even more on edge.

‘Uh-sir?’

‘So you think it’s fun to assault kid’s huh?’ Lucifer spoke in an eerily calm voice. The men looked at each other, now sweating profusely.  They all immediately tried to deny the accusations, but Lucifer wasn’t having it.

‘Keep your filthy mouths shut!’ His demonic form began manifesting as his anger grew. ‘You dare lay your hands on someone I care about!?’

The men were no longer tough bullies, but now reduced to a quivering mass with their backs to the wall as Lucifer stalked forwards.

A smirk appeared on his face as he narrowed his eyes at the men.

‘What do you say I give a demonstration of how Hell got it’s reputation?’

Screams echoed from the alley. People knew better than to intervene.

Lucifer returned home not much later, making a bee line for your room straight away.

He was about to knock on your door, when he heard faint crying coming from the other side.

He looked down remorsefully. Maybe he shouldn’t have left you alone. He composed himself and knocked. The sobs went quiet and he heard a meek, ‘come in.’

As he entered, he noticed you’d changed from your maid outfit and now wore your pyjamas and dressing gown.

‘Hey Y/N, you feeling any better?’ He came to sit next to you with a comforting smile.

‘I guess so...’ You replied, though the defeated look was still evident on your face.

‘Well golly! I have something to turn that frown upside down!’ You were startled by his sudden energetic proclamation. ‘Ta-da!’ He pulled a small duck from his coat pocket and proudly presented it to you.

You looked over the duck, which had obviously been made to resemble you by giving it some of your features.

As you looked at the little yellow duck, something inside of you snapped. Without warning, you batted the duck from his hand and jumped up in a fury, scowl painted across your face.

‘Why are you acting like you care about me!?’ Lucifer jumped up as if you’d burnt him, his hands out in front of him as a peaceful gesture. He was stunned at your sudden outburst.

‘Y/N, I don’t thi-‘

‘Don’t try and lie to me! Nobody’s ever cared about me!’ You cut him off. You were getting more irate as you broke down into hysterics again.

Lucifer didn’t know what to say. He opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn’t find the words to speak.

When he didn’t answer, it only made you more angry.

‘What do you want from me!?’ You screamed at him, tears flowing down your face. ‘Is it sex? Is that what you want from me, just like everyone else!?’

Lucifer audible gasped at your outburst and took a step back to show he meant no harm.

‘Whoa kid! I don’t want anything from you! Especially not...’ Lucifer couldn’t bring himself to say it. Everything began to fall into place for him now. So that’s what you had to do back on Earth.

He was angry that you accused him of being that disgusting, but not at you. He could never hate you. He was angry that there were people on Earth that thought it was ok to take advantage of a child like that.

You froze in place. The way he was keeping his distance, the way he was making himself look small so as to not intimidate you... Then there was his eyes. They were sad.

They bore into you, as if he were pleading with you to believe him. He wasn’t lying.

Your eyes stung with tears and your face heated up as you looked away, embarrassed by your outburst.

Lucifer wanted to comfort you, but he also didn’t want to spook you, so you needed to make the first move.

You mumbled something under your breath he couldn’t quite hear.

‘I uh, didn’t catch that...’ You squinted your eyes and let out a shaky breath, as if hyping yourself up to repeat what you had said.

You looked him dead in the eye, face hard as you repeated yourself.

‘I said I wish I were your daughter! My life would have been so much better.’

Lucifer was gobsmacked. He really hadn’t been expecting that. When he really thought about it he realised he shouldn’t be that surprised at all. He knew you had to have a rough life, and with how welcoming and caring he’d been to you, he should have know something like this would manifest.

The more Lucifer thought it over, the bigger his hear swelled. You thought so highly of him, that you wanted him to be your dad, or fatherly figure at least.

It seemed that Lucifer took a few moments too many to digest this information, as you turned away from him abruptly. He could see you shaking.

‘I’m sorry....’ You whispered.

Lucifer was snapped back to reality by your voice. You were clearly still upset, but he couldn’t stop the smile from spreading  across his face.

He made his way over to you and gingerly placed a hand on your shoulder, so as to not startle you, but you still flinched at the contact.

‘Y/N... You’ve nothing to be sorry for.’ Lucifer spoke so softly that it took you off guard. You couldn’t see his face, but you could tell by the tone of his voice that he was smiling.

‘It wasn’t till recently that I repaired my relationship with Charlie.’ You were rooted to the spot as you listened intently to what he was saying. ‘ I wasn’t there for a long time, and I truly regret how much time I missed with her.’ Your face was cast down as you hung onto every word.

You felt so stupid bringing this up. He already had a daughter that he loved, so you would just get in the way. Maybe this was his way of letting you down gently.

Lucifer moved to stand next to you, with his arm now across your shoulders. As you looked up to him, you were stunned to see him smiling. You almost passed out at his next words.

‘But maybe I can be there for you.’ More tears started to stream down your face, but this time they were tears of joy. For the first time in a long time, you felt truly happy.

Flinging your arms round his torso, you buried your head into his chest as you clung to him for dear life.

Lucifer happily returned your embrace and lay his head a top yours.

‘I’m sorry we couldn’t get here sooner.’ He soothed as he stroked the top of your head. You pulled back and looked up to him with a slight laugh.

‘You mean I should have died sooner?’ Lucifer cringed and pulled away, playfully throwing his hands up in the air.

‘Well of course it’s gonna sound morbid if you say it like that!’ You both laughed together and you wiped the tears from under your eyes.

Something caught Lucifer’s eye from across the room. It was the small duck he’d previously offered you.

You watched without a word as he retrieved the gift. He stood before you and offered it once again with a wide grin. This time you gratefully accepted.

Cupping your hands round the small toy, you held it up next to your face.

‘Great likeness.’ You joked and Lucifer snorted out in laughter.

‘I’m glad you like it! You know when you knocked it away, I thought you were highly offended with how I portrayed you, so good to know that’s not the case!’ He teased and gae you a thumbs up.

‘Thank you.’

‘Well.’ Lucifer spun round, making his way to the door before pausing to speak over his shoulder. ‘Thanks to todays surprising turn of events, I need to hire a new maid.’ He paused for a moment before turning back round to fully face you. ‘Can’t have my honorary daughter run ragged , now can I?’

Later that night after both of you had taken some much needed time to calm down, Lucifer had made you sit at the dining table, whilst he served you for a change. Once you were both settled, he took the opportunity to press you a little.

‘So did you ever reach out to Charlie like I said a while ago?’ You chuckled nervously and rubbed at the back of your neck.

  ‘I didn’t really think it would be appropriate.’

‘Ah come one now, I was the one who bought it up! Plus I think it would be good for you.’

‘How so?’ You titled your had curiously and Lucifer sank back into his chair with a breathy laugh.

‘Charlie showers literally everyone she meets with love, and she’ll introduce you to loads of new friends.’

‘But-‘ You stopped yourself, really thinking weather or not you should even ask. ‘Will she even want to meet me?’ Lucifer’s face softened into a warm smile. He knew exactly what you were thinking. You were scared that Charlie would want nothing to do with you, considering the way you saw him now.

He sat up and reached over, giving your shoulder a comforting squeeze.

‘I grantee it.’

[goldenempyrean]

I'm Better With You

〚 Notes - First Addison fic so I'm just testing the waters here, Ill likely write for her in the future so feel free to send requests for her :)〛

〚 Pairing - Addison Montgomery x Reader 〛

〚 Summary - You find Addison sitting in the rain after a rough surgery. You take it upon yourself to make sure she's cared for 〛

〚 Wordcount - 6,040 〛

〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙

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“What on earth are doing standing out here in the rain like that?” The sound of your shocked voice made Addison jump out of her thoughts from the bench she had been sitting on. A bench was completely unsheltered for the pouring Seattle rain. “You’re completely and utterly soaked! You’ve gotta get back inside and dry off.” 

Addison blinked up at you through the mist of rain dripping from her soaked red hair, a distant look in her eyes. "I needed some air.” She mumbled weakly, her eyes not quite meeting your own. 

You shook your head softly, taking off your coat and pulled it over her shoulders, “There’s getting air and then there’s sitting in a downpour. You’ll catch your death out here.” Your hand reached down to hers and gently tugged, letting her know it was time to get up, “Come back inside.” 

Addison seemed to hesitate for a short second as your hand tugged gently at hers, her body shivering as the cold rain continued to soak through her clothes. For a moment, it seemed like she might refuse, but then her shoulders slumped, and she finally let herself be pulled to her feet. 

“I wasn’t thinking properly.” She murmured, voice low as the two of you stood in the doorway, the heat from inside the building seeped out and she already felt a little warmer. “I just.. I needed to get out of there.”  

You couldn’t stop your face switching from one of concern to sympathy. You’d heard from an intern that she’d been in the OR for the last few hours and if her demeanour was anything to go by, it hadn’t gone well, “It’s okay, just breathe. You’re okay but next time you need to get some fresh air, maybe try a beneath a shelter?” 

You reached up to reposition your coat which had slipped off her shoulders a little, “Or were you purposely going for the ‘recently drowned’ look?” The joke made her smile a little, a small smile but a smile nonetheless and you took the chance to kiss her cheek before taking her back inside. 

Once inside, Addison finally realised how cold she actually was. Shivers ran over her arms as goosebumps rippled over her skin. She pulled your coat on tighter as she mumbled, “Thanks for bringing me in.” 

“You don’t have to thank me Addie,” You smiled and ran your hand through her soaked hair, “Do you have anymore things you need to do today? I finish in an hour then we can both head home and cosy up?” You offered, knowing what Addison needed after days like this was a hot bath, some good food and cuddles. 

Her eyes flicked up to meet yours for a brief second before she nodded, though she didn’t say anything right away. She looked drained, her usual composed expression cracked around the edges. She sighed and let her shoulders slump before finally speaking, “Home sounds good, I’m done for today.”  

“I thought so, I’ll be out by 7 at the very latest. I’ll meet you back home?”  

You watched with a small, sympathetic frown as you watch Addison shuffle towards her office. She looked exhausted, you knew how taxing a long surgery could be but you know how crushing it was to spend hours in the OR only for it to end badly. Addison especially was one to feel the loss personally, she’d never show it to anyone.  

Addison always held herself to impossibly high standards, and when something went wrong, she shouldered the blame alone. She’d put on a brave face and comfort others while simultaneously desperately trying to hold herself together just long enough until she was finally alone. Then she’d let it all out - feeling guilty for what went wrong, running the situation again and again in her head in an attempt to see if she could’ve done something more.  

The rest of your shift seemed to drag, as if time itself was crawling forward with no regard for how desperately you wanted to get home. Final rounds felt like they took more time, the corridors seemed longer somehow and the hands of the clock refused to move. You knew it was all in your head but that didn’t make it any better.  

Eventually though, the seconds ticked by and it was finally time for you to leave.  No time was wasted as you gathered your stuff and headed out the doors. You’d decided it would be worth changing out of your scrubs before you left but you had forgotten to get your coat back off Addie and only had a thin jacket to keep your warm. It was still raining, a little heavier and you jogged beneath the dark clouds to your car. Luckily you didn’t get too wet, just enough to dampen your clothes and hair. 

Thankfully the drive home wasn’t too long. The rhythmic pattering on rain on the metal roof provided a nice background as you drove through the streets. There was a little traffic, nothing terrible and you were soon pulling into your driveway. 

As you parked up, the rain fell down in relentless sheets, you dreaded stepping out into it but the knowledge you’d be welcomed to the feeling of warmth and your wife was amazing. A sudden bright flash caught your attentive followed by a loud, angry clap of thunder, “Oh great.” You found yourself mumbling and made a mental note to bring the bins in. Last time there’d been a storm you had to go on a 15-minute search to try and find your wheelie bins which had been blown away. 

“No point delaying the inevitable.” You said to yourself, and swung the car door open. Instantly you were battered with rain and grimaced as you ran to grab the bins from the end of the drive and dragged them up to be sheltered beside your porch.  The relief that washed over you as you felt the pouring rain ease off as you stepped beneath the roof was amazing. You were definitely going to need a shower later but first... 

“Hey I’m home.” Your voice called out into the house as you stepped inside, you shook off the rain and left your wet shoes at the door. You shrugged out of your wet jacket, letting it hang on the hook near the door, and called out again, "Addie?" 

The house was still quiet, the subtle hum of the heating was the only thing keeping it from silence. You hummed softly to yourself as you headed further inside. You glanced up towards the living room and felt your shoulders relax as flickering lights reflecting from inside. The soft glow of an orange lamp made you feel a little better as you rounded the corner and looked around. You could recognise those red curls anywhere. Addison was currently curled up on the sofa and it wasn’t until you got closer that you realised, she still had your coat draped over her. Her hair was still damp but not as soaked as earlier and you could see that she was staring blankly at the television, though it didn’t seem like she was actually watching anything. 

“Hey, you,” You murmured softly as you knelt down to be at her level, running your hand gently through her hair. She was a little colder than you would’ve liked and now that you looked closely, her skin was still dappled with goosebumps. 

Addison blinked slowly as if emerging from a fog, her red-rimmed eyes finally meeting yours. Her lips curved into a small, weak smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. "You're home," she said, her voice hoarse, as though she’d been on the verge of tears or had already shed them when she thought no one would see. 

You smiled softly and came to sit beside her, warmth pooling in your stomach when she sat up and leant her body against you, the coat falling to the floor as she moved, “Yes, I’m home and you, my love, are freezing.” You mumbled as she involuntarily shivered, “What do you say to having a nice warm bath? I’ll run it all nice for you, I’ll even let you use my bubble bath.” 

She leaned into your further before taking a deep breath and exhaling with a small sigh, “A bath sounds nice.” She sniffled quietly after a moment, nodding as you helped her to sit up again. 

“Come on then darling.”  Your hand extended to take her own as you gently pulled her to her feet. She shuffled close beneath you as you nudged her in the direction of the bathroom, you heard her yawn widely and excused herself quietly as she followed you which made a small smile tug at the corners of your lips. She was always adorable when she was tired. 

Once inside the bathroom, you turned on the faucet, letting the water run until it was the perfect temperature. You added a generous amount of your favourite bubble bath (it smelled of strawberries) watching as the cloudy-like suds began to bubble up. Addison had been sitting in your bedroom as you got everything ready. As you put a fluffy, dark grey towel onto the heated rack, you heard the sound of small footsteps behind you. Looking in the mirror, you could see Addison hovering at the doorframe, a pair of your plaid pyjamas' in her hands.  

You chuckled quietly and turned around to meet her eyes, “You stealing from me now, is that what this is?” You smiled and expected her to give a small chuckle in return but what you didn’t expect was for her face to crumble up, her bottom lip quivering as tears began to spill from her eyes. Small tears turned to sobs within moments and your eyes were wide with guilt as she broke. 

“Baby- no- I'm so sorry-” Your apology began spilling from your lips as you rushed to comfort her, pulling her into a hug as she sobbed into your hold, “I didn’t mean to upset you love, I’m so sorry.” You rambled as you tried to console her, unsure if it was actually you that pushed her over the edge of the events from the day finally breaking her down. 

“I’m sorry,” Addison choked out between sobs, her fingers clutching your shirt as if you might disappear if she let go. “I didn’t mean to... I didn’t... I just—” 

“Shh, it’s okay, you don’t have to apologize.” You rocked her gently, holding her tighter. “You’ve been through a lot today. You don’t have to hold it together all the time, Addie.” 

She continued to cry, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she tried to get the words out. “I... I tried so hard... hours... we were so close... but—” She didn’t need to finish the sentence. You knew what she meant.  

The two of you held each other on the floor of your bathroom for almost half an hour, no words were spoken apart from the occasional shushing along with occasional hiccups and Addison tried to catch her breath. Once she’d seemed to be a little more stable you spoke up. 

“Addie, listen to me,” You spoke gently, pulling back just enough to tilt her chin up so she was looking at you. Her eyes were swollen, red from crying, and her bottom lip trembled. “You gave it everything. There’s nothing more you could’ve done. You’re human. Sometimes... sometimes we lose people, and it’s not fair, but that doesn’t mean it’s your fault.” 

She looked at you, her expression broken, and for a moment, you thought she might argue, but instead, she let out another shaky breath and buried her face in your chest again. You could feel her body gradually relaxing in your arms, the storm of emotions slowly subsiding, but the exhaustion was evident. She’d already been tired to begin with and this had taken away any reserves of energy she had. 

"Let’s get you in the bath, okay?" You suggested gently after a few minutes, rubbing her back as her sobs turned to quiet sniffles. 

She nodded, wiping her eyes as she cleared her throat, “You too?” Her voice was quiet but hopeful as she looked at you and then towards the water. It was clear what she wanted and you couldn’t hold back a small smile as you agreed. 

“Of course my love, let me just grab a towel.”  

When you returned, Addison let you get in first. The warm water felt amazing on every part of your body. You hadn’t really registered how tired you were yourself until then, too busy focusing on your wife and how she was. The bubbles made the room smell amazing and you breathed deeply as Addison slowly climbed in. Her body relaxed against yours, her head falling back to rest on your chest as your arms came to wrap around her. You couldn’t resist planting a small kiss to her red hair as she thanked you for getting everything ready for her. 

After washing her hair and body, the minutes flowed by, you felt her relaxing more and more. Her previously tense shoulders dropped as she allowed the water to surround her, the burdens of the day slowly melting away as she let her eyes occasionally flutter closed. It wasn’t until she closed them and didn’t open them for several minutes that you decided it would be probably best to get out. The water had started to cool anyway and was better to get out now rather than risk her becoming cold again. 

“You think its time to get out now, hm?” You nudged her gently to stir her awake from whatever day-dream she’d been in, “We’ll get you into those pj’s and I’ll make us some dinner, yeah?” 

“Dinner sounds good.” 

After helping Addison out of the bath, you wrapped her in the soft, fluffy towel, making sure to dry her off gently. Her skin was warm now, a marked improvement from earlier, though you could still see the weariness in her eyes. She took the pyjamas from earlier and held them out to you, offering them back. You took them from her hands and smiled at her, silently handing them back to her with a gentle nudge. She slipped them on and looked completely and utterly adorable. 

Once she was dressed, you handed her a brush, offering to untangle the wet knots in her hair. Addison nodded silently and turned, her back to you as she sat on the bed while you carefully worked through the red strands. The rhythmic strokes of the brush seemed to calm her. You took your time, letting her find peace in the simple, repetitive motion. 

“What are you in the mood to eat baby?” Setting the brush aside, you leaned down to kiss the top of her forehead. 

She hummed quietly, thinking for a moment, “Pasta?” The redhead asked hopefully after a moment, “The one you make with that really good sauce.” 

You knew exactly which she meant. “Pasta it is then. Are you going to just relax in here for a bit or come back and sit in the living room?” 

She sniffled, and cleared her throat as she followed you into the kitchen, instead of heading to the living room like you’d presumed she would, instead she followed you into the kitchen. She shuffled herself onto one of the small stools tucked into the island and watched you curiously as you began to take out ingredients for your pasta sauce. 

“Live cooking show?” You questioned with a smile, filling a pan of water and setting it to boil. You’d cooked the recipe hundreds of times. First you salted the pasta water and added a generous helping of fusilli. It was the best pasta for the recipe, not to mention your favourite. 

Addison continued to watch as you cooked, shuffling occasionally as she trying to get a better view of what you were doing. Addie wasn’t a bad cook herself, though she tended to lean more towards making sweet treats and cakes rather than hearty meals. Still, it was a passion you both shared and it wasn’t unusual to see the two of you cooking together. It was something which brought you closer and you cherished the time together. 

It was why you’d been able to slowly notice Addie becoming less and less engaged as time grew on. Her eyes were occasionally dropping closed and her posture seemed to slump. “Nearly done love.” You commented as she crossed her arms and fought back a shiver, “You getting cold again?” You sighed softly as you turned the simmering sauce down to a low heat. 

She shrugged, “A little.” 

You hummed and set the spoon you’d being using to periodically stir before you chuckled, "If I come back to my kitchen burning down, you’re taking the blame.” Before quickly heading to the bedroom, grabbing your fluffy blue robe which had been hanging on the door and jogged back to her. 

“Here, darling,” You smiled, handing it out to her which she gratefully pulled it around her shoulders, sinking into the warm fabric. It was a good robe, heavy and comforting and she continued to wear it as you finished plating up your pasta. 

It was delicious and hit the spot Addison twirled a forkful of fusilli, taking small bites in silence. She still looked worn, her eyes tired, but she stilled managed to eat the majority of it before she smiled gratefully and pushed her plate forward. 

“Thank you love.” She murmured as you took her plate and put it in the sink. Addison was a firm believer in “I cook, you clean” but you weren’t having any of it, insisting it was completely fine and you would take care of all the mess. You’d already done the majority of it, making an effort to clean up as you went along, all there was left was the dishes.  

There was no time wasted as you quickly cleaned up. Wiping down the surfaces and putting away the freshly washed dishes. Addison remained seated; her eyes heavy with exhaustion but following your every motion with a quiet appreciation. Every now and then, she sipped from her glass of water, her body curled up inside your fluffy robe. 

When you finally finished, you turned to her with a warm smile, walking over to press a soft kiss to her forehead. "All done, love. Now, I think it’s time we head to bed." 

She didn’t object and the pair of you headed back to the bedroom, crawling under the soft sheets and getting snuggled without each other's arms. Her body pressed against yours. It didn’t take long for her breathing to even out as she got comfortable within your hold, her red hair was still a little damp but you didn’t have the heart to wake her up just for the sake of drying it properly. 

Eventually you couldn’t avoid the pull of sleep for much longer, you let your mind wander off as you drifted into a soft, much welcomed sleep. 

*^*^* 

If only the two of you could’ve stayed asleep forever, curled up in a peaceful trance. Unfortunately your morning alarm had other ideas and blared off into the silent room, shaking the pair of you out of your slumber. 

You groaned quietly as you rolled over, whacking you hand at the loud, beeping phone on your nightstand in an attempt to quell its yelling. It didn’t work, instead you just ended up slapping your hand on the wooden table. You groaned again. Sitting up properly this time, you turned off the alarm and swung your legs over the side of the bed. 

Padding into the bathroom, you splashed some water on your face, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you thought back to the night before. Noticing the unusual silence from your wife, you leaned back to look into the room, shaking your head fondly when she saw she was still curled up beneath the sheets. Her red hair poking out from within. 

There was no harm in letting her sleep in a little longer. You always liked to set your alarms 15 minutes earlier than necessary to give yourself some extra leeway in the mornings. However, even after you’d brushed your teeth, tied back your hair and done some light makeup, there was still no sign of Addison getting herself up. 

You sighed softly and finished up in the bathroom before coming back and kneeling at the side of the bed. She had her head buried in a pillow. You smiled to yourself, enjoying the sight for a moment. With a gentle touch, you reached to stray red curls from her forehead before gently shaking her shoulder. "Addie, time to wake up," You murmured quietly as she stirred. 

She let out a quiet groan, burying her face deeper into the pillow. "Five more minutes..." she mumbled, you were expecting her usual slightly thicker morning voice, maybe even her grumpy voice. However instead what you heard was congested and thick. A sick Addie voice. 

"Addie," You repeated, your brows furrowing a little as you heard her voice, "Oh , you don’t sound great, baby. You okay?”  

She sniffled and nodded, “I’m fine.” 

“You dont sound-” 

“I said I’m fine Y/N.” 

Her stubbornness was nothing new, especially when it came to work. Addison had always been driven—almost to a fault. It was one of the things you loved about her, but right now, it was frustrating. She shifted under the covers, sitting up slowly, wincing as she did. You could see the exhaustion weighing on her, dark circles under her eyes. Honestly you shouldn’t had been so surprised she woke up like this. She’d been thoroughly soaked yesterday, completely sending her body temperature out of whack. She’d never reacted well to changes like that and her defences were down, of course she’d been an easy victim for the first bug to come her way. 

She was moving slower than usual, clearly feeling the effects of whatever was working its way through her body. You didn't even need to press a hand to her forehead to know she was running a slight fever; the pale tint to her cheeks, the slight sheen of sweat on her skin, and the way she kept sniffling were all clear signs. 

“Addie, love, you can just get back in bed sweetheart.” You murmured, following behind as she headed into the bathroom, “I’ll tell work that you’re out of commission for today. They’ll understand.” 

She gave you a pointed look and closed the bathroom door. Well. Clearly getting back into bed was out of the question. There wasn’t much you could do right now apart from getting yourself ready, you’d try again once she was finished in the bathroom. 

Getting dressed; you had been pulling on your shirt when you heard her sneeze three times in moderately quick succession. You couldn’t help but shake your head sympathetically. Usually, Addie would change into her scrubs at work like you did so you set out a relatively cosy outfit for her to wear, setting the folded clothes on the end of the bed. 

You were just gathering up your things when Addison emerged from the bathroom looking just as pale as before, with a slight flush to her cheeks that matched the pallor of her hair. She’d wrapped her hair into a messy bun, though some strands had already fallen loose, and her eyes were puffy from congestion. 

She eyed the clothes you’d set out for her, biting the bottom her lip before picking them up and beginning to change. Addison could feel your eyes watching her as she changed, not in the flirty way she’d prefer but in the worried, concerned way she’d rather ignore. 

The silent tension got the better of her however and the redhead shot you a look, part stubbornness, part exhaustion. “I’ll be fine, Y/N,” She mumbled through her hoarse voice. She sniffled damply, rubbing at her nose as she grabbed her work bag. “I can’t just stay home. I’ve got back-to-back surgeries and I’m meant to be on call tonight.” 

“Someone can always cover you.” You murmured in return but you knew it would hardly convince her. There was no point trying to change her mind, it would only end with her getting frustrated and that was the last thing you wanted.  

She’d turned away your offer of breakfast but you’d manage to talk her into at least taking a smoothie with her. By the time you’d poured it into her cup it was time to set off so pushing aside your reluctance, you offered to drive her there. The idea of letting a very likely feverish Addie behind the wheel of a 2-tonne vehicle wasn’t overly appealing. 

The storm hadn’t relented much overnight, the sky was dark and overcast, rain drizzling down as you drove to work. You occasionally stole quick glances at your wife in the passenger seat, she was slumped in her seat a little and staring out the window. You were 99% sure she was leaning her forehead against it. The sound of Addison shuffling in her seat caught your attention, your eyes cast over in time to watch as she rubbed at her nose, her expression shifting whatever itch she was trying to stave off failed and moments later she was stifling a sneeze against the back of her hand. 

“Bless you, Bless you,” You repeated when she repeated the action a few seconds later, only this time she didn’t stifle and let out a small satisfied sound afterwards, “There’s tissues in my bag if you need them.” 

But she simply shook her head and sniffled quietly before letting her head return to its prior position against the cool glass, “I’m fine, thank you.” 

You gave her a sideways glance, but didn't push the issue. When you finally pulled up to the hospital, Addison shifted, unbuckling her seatbelt slowly. You could see the way she winced as she moved, a grimace crossing her face as she grabbed her bag. You wanted to tell her one more time to reconsider—maybe just take the morning off, at least—but before you could speak, she leaned over and kissed your cheek, her lips warm against your skin. 

“I’ll see you later love,” She whispered, her voice already sounding strained, you couldn’t imagine what a day of talking would do to it. 

You nodded, biting back your protests. “Please take it easy, Addie. And if you need me, call, okay?” 

She shut the car door and headed inside – luckily she’d brought a coat this time. When the door closed, you took a moment to gather yourself and let out a deep sigh. Of course you loved Addison, she was just too stubborn for her own good sometimes. She knew it herself and while she made improvements from the past, it was still something she had to work on.  

Grabbing your bag, you headed inside, jogging beneath the room and relishing in the warmth of the hospital as you stepped through the entrance. Changing into your scrubs only took a few minutes and you were finally ready to start your day. It wasn’t exactly easy to focus on your work when you knew for a fact your wife was somewhere in that same hospital feeling miserable and ill but you had to push the thought to the back of your mind as you began doing rounds.  

Every so often you’d try and grab one of the interns she usually had following her round but they seemed to be avoiding you today, always running from one place to the next, looking more stressed out than usual.  

The day hadn’t been too eventful. Originally you weren’t meant to have surgery today but after someone came in with emergency appendicitis, you found yourself in the OR for a few hours - having to correct a clumsy interns mistake. By the time you’d finished, it was already past your shared lunch hour which meant you weren’t able to meet your wife as you usually did, an act (which even though you knew you shouldn’t) made you feel a little guilty. 

You’d had no word from the redhead since she started and it had worried you a little. The first place you checked was her office but you only saw her bag sitting on the desk with no sign she’d been here much today. There was no sign on her in the OR for the afternoon so when Karev had passed you in the corridor, you pulled him aside, “Have you seen Addison lately? I checked the board and she’s not in surgery.” 

He shifted a little uncomfortably and crossed his arms, causing you to change your stance and raise an eyebrow, “Alex, I already know she’s ill. I just want to check on her.” Your voice was soft, revealing a little vulnerability. Luckily this seemed to have worked as he sighed and pointed down the corridor. 

“Last time I saw she was coughing and spluttering over a water fountain.” He shook his head disapprovingly, “I’m presuming you couldn’t convince her to stay home?” 

You matched his gesture, “You know what she’s like.” He agreed and you thanked him for the information before heading in the general direction he pointed you in, of course she was not still by the fountain. You’d just been about to page her when your ears pricked up as you heard the sound of a rough muffled cough. Turning around you made a confused face as you saw there was no-one else in the corridor. Humming, you looked towards the linen closet a few feet away. 

Supposing there was nothing to lose, you walked over and pushed the door open, light flooding into the dark room. You didn’t see anything at first but squinting, you could make out the vague shape of someone of the back of the closet. Switching on the small light, your heart dropped to your knees as you saw those recognisable red curls. Addison was slumped on the floor, her fever-flushed face resting against the rack of sheets. 

“Oh sweetheart,” You murmured in the smallest voice as you closed the door, locking it before kneeling at her side. Raising a hand to her forehead, you brushed away damp strands of hair. Beads of sweat were lining her brow and you sighed as you recognised the undeniable heat of a high fever radiating from her skin. 

It was hard to believe she had been trying to power through her shift like this. Brushing her hair back again, you gently squeezed her shoulder. "Addie, hey sweetie," You murmured softly, trying not to startle her, “Wake up for me beautiful girl.” 

She stirred sluggishly, blinking up at you with glassy eyes. "Mhh?” She mumbled something you couldn’t quite work out and sniffled thickly, hardly having time to wake up before she ducked into her arm with a damp sneeze. It sounded harsh and obviously hurt from the way she winced afterwards. 

After murmuring a bless you and handing her a tissue from the packet you’d slipped into your pocket, you asked, “What are you doing napping in a linen closet baby?” You knew that she could have easily slipped into an on-call room and slept there so it wasn’t hard to work out that her linen-closet nap wasn’t intentional. 

Addison accepted the tissue and rubbed it beneath her red tinged nose, sniffling as she tried to sit up a little, her head still spinning as she blinked against the overhead light. “I just... got dizzy. I needed to sit down for a moment.” It was clear she was out of it, her answer sounding more like a question as she spoke and a few moments later, you were rubbing her back in worriedly as she racked forward with a horrible, harsh cough. 

“You sound terrible baby.” 

She shook her head weakly, clearly trying to muster some strength but failing miserably. "It’s not that bad. She tried to insist. her voice cracking before she broke into another round of painful-sounding coughs. You winced just hearing it. 

“That’s new,” You murmured, concern and worry seeping into your words, “How long have you been coughing like that sweetheart?”  

She seemed to think for a moment and sniffled thickly, coughing again before mumbling “Just a few hours.” Your wife cleared her throat with an agitated sound and let her head fall back against the rack making you bite your lip with worry. 

Without another word, you quickly stood up and grabbed the small digital thermometer from your coat pocket. It wasn’t something you normally carried, but with flu season hitting hard, it had become a necessity around the hospital. Kneeling back beside her, you pressed it against her temple. 

Addison closed her eyes, too exhausted to protest. After a few moments, the thermometer beeped, and your stomach dropped as you read the number. 

“Poor girl, you’re nowhere near well enough to be here. Come on, we’re going home.” Your tone held no room for arguments and well, Addie didn’t really have the energy to be stubborn anymore. She felt too terrible and all she really wanted to do now was to go home and crawl back into bed where she should’ve stayed to begin with. 

Finally, Addison nodded and you wrapped your arm around her waist as you helped her up off the floor. She stumbled and swayed a little so you kept your hold tight as you got her out of the closet, “You still dizzy?” She nodded and walked slowly, the both of you taking your time as you headed down the corridor. Stopping off at her office, you grabbed her bags and coat, wrapping it around her before quickly jogging to your office to grab your things. Changing could wait. All that was important now was getting her home 

You pulled out your phone and sent a quick text to the chief explaining the situation, knowing he’d be sympathic. You slipped your phone back into your pocket, your focus fully returning to Addison. Her breathing was shallow, and every step seemed like an effort, but she leaned into you, grateful for your support. Her body trembled slightly, whether from the fever or exhaustion, you couldn’t be sure. What mattered most now was getting her home, out of the fluorescent hospital lights and away from the sterile walls that she'd been pushing herself to work within for far too long. 

Before long, you were helping Addison back into your car, putting your bags on the backseat before closing the passenger seat down. She was coughing when you slipped into the passenger seat and you instantly reached across to rub her back. She cleared her throat and looked over at you. 

“Thanks for taking care of me.” Her voice sounded so hoarse but you knew exactly what she was saying regardless, “I know I should’ve come home sooner. I’m sorry.” 

You smiled, shushing her softly, “You don’t need to apologise, we’re going home now that’s all that matters. We’ll have you feeling better soon, okay?” 

“I love you.” 

“Love you too sweetheart.” 

As the pair of you drove home, you could see Addison begin to drop off as her head periodically bobbed forwards, her eyes beginning to close on their own accord. 

It wasn’t long before she had fully given into her exhaustion. You couldn’t help but feel relieved now that Addison was finally safely nestled in your passenger seat, her exhausted body leaning fully against the door as she slept against the window, her mouth open a little as small, stuffy snores rose from her. She’d definitely be out of work for the next few days, likely the week so you made a mental note to call at the pharmacy on your way home. It wouldn’t be long before you got her home, ready to tuck her up into bed and dote on her every need. 

Yes, you’d taken care of her last night and you were more than happy to do it all again. 

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[markrosewater]

As someone who only recently got properly into Magic this year my stance on the recent UB Standard legality is that so long as the mechanics are good, fun to play, and work well with the other Standard legal sets then I don't particularly care if Final Fantasy is legal.

But.

There is something about the Marvel Universe being Standard Legal that feels off. Final Fantasy shares many aesthetic and gameplay similarities to Magic that make it slide into the general ecosystem better from a Look/Feel perspective. Meanwhile, as much of a Spider-Man fan as I am, it is going to be incredibly weird seeing Peter Parker or Miles Morales face off against the critters of Bloomburrow, even more than Thunder Junction or Duskmourn do.

I will attend the Final Fantasy and Spider-Man prereleases because I love playing Magic and I am interested in both sets, but I cannot shake the feeling that this decision makes the overall play experience strange, especially since SIX Standard sets of a year is way overdoing it (maybe 3 In-Universe sets and 1 UB set would be a better balance?)

I understand the decision from a logical standpoint but the emotional reaction to Magic losing some of its Qualia is something that I can't ignore

I have read many of the responses to my request for emotional responses yesterday (I will continue reading - there are just a lot of people sharing). A common through line is the feeling of loss, that the decisions we’ve been making are taking things away from them.

So, I wanted to take a moment to talk about something that I believe Universes Beyond is adding to the game. I’m not talking about value to other people that aren’t you, but something that is upside to the enfranchised players that are the backbone of the game.

As I’m head designer, my focus is on mechanics and the core gameplay experience of playing the game. Universes Beyond has been a bolt of energy for the design of the game.

Because so many of you are sharing personal stories, I’ll use my own experiences as a way to illustrate my point.

One day, when I was seven or eight, I woke up and went downstairs to see that my Dad had bought me a comic book and left it out on the counter for me as a surprise. It was Spider-Man.

I must have read that comic ten times. It was the start of a life long love of comic books. I’m not quite sure why the superhero genre, in particular, spoke to me so strongly, but it did.

As a teenager I was a bit of an outcast, and when I stumbled upon the X-Men, it felt like a story that was core to my lived experience. I too was an outsider, but out there were people like me and if I could find those people, we could bond over our similarities.

I enjoy designing Magic. I mean really, really enjoy designing Magic. I don’t throw around the term “dream job” lightly. It is truly a lifelong passion. I spend so much time writing about it because it is something that brings me so much joy, and there is a desire to share that joy with others, my found family that shares my similarities.

Designing Marvel cards has been electrifying. I have spent years mastering the art of Magic design. Getting to combine that with my love of Marvel characters has been inspirational. It has inspired to make designs I would have never thought of.

It has pushed me in directions I couldn’t have predicted and resulted in designs that tickle both my inner Mel and Vorthoses.

And it hasn’t just affected my own designs. I have given more notes on card designs than I have in my twenty nine years at Wizards.

For example, the amount of back and forth with Aaron who designed the five Secret Lair cards we recently revealed at New York ComicCon was exhaustive. He and I have long bonded over our shared love of Marvel, so getting to translate that into Magic with him has been amazing.

And each Universes Beyond product we’re making has people as equally passionate about that property.

My point is from purely a design perspective, Universes Beyond has had huge dividends. It has inspired us to make fresh new designs. It has sparked creativity. We are making awesome card designs, mechanics, themes, and sets, things that most likely wouldn’t have come into existence otherwise.

The passion that beloved characters and worlds has inspired in us is translated into amazing Magic design, something that will make the act of playing Magic better for anyone who enjoys the nuts and bolts of the raw gameplay of Magic.