The Life I Deserve. Final Part. LN4. OP81

Rocket Queen

Pairing: Slash / Saul Hudson x reader

Info: Smut; 3568 words;

Summary: Axl decides that Rocket Queen is missing something, so he turns to Y/N and Slash for help.

A/N: Hey angels. New fic for you guys while I work on the requests <3 I’m still deeply sorry for taking so long. Anyways, enjoy it <3

Keep reading

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　

Guns N’ Roses

Main Masterlist

𝕊𝕝𝕒𝕤𝕙

𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕜𝕤 𝕚𝕟 𝕡𝕣𝕠𝕘𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕤: 𝟙

𝕃𝕒𝕥𝕖 ℕ𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕤 - 𝕚𝕞𝕒𝕘𝕚𝕟𝕖

𝔼𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕪 𝕄𝕠𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖 - 𝕚𝕞𝕒𝕘𝕚𝕟𝕖

𝕄𝕚𝕕𝕟𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 ℂ𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕤 - 𝕚𝕞𝕒𝕘𝕚𝕟𝕖

ℍ𝕠𝕥 𝕄𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕤 - 𝕚𝕞𝕒𝕘𝕚𝕟𝕖

𝕁𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕠𝕦𝕤𝕪 - 𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕣𝕥 𝕗𝕚𝕔

𝔸𝕤𝕤𝕦𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖 - 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤

𝔸𝕩𝕝 ℝ𝕠𝕤𝕖

𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕜𝕤 𝕚𝕟 𝕡𝕣𝕠𝕘𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕤: 𝟙

𝔸𝕤𝕤𝕦𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖 - 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤

𝔻𝕦𝕗𝕗 𝕄𝕔𝕂𝕒𝕘𝕒𝕟

𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕜𝕤 𝕚𝕟 𝕡𝕣𝕠𝕘𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕤:

𝕀𝕫𝕫𝕪 𝕊𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕕𝕝𝕚𝕟

𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕜𝕤 𝕚𝕟 𝕡𝕣𝕠𝕘𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕤:

ℂ𝕚𝕘𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕊𝕚𝕝𝕖𝕟𝕥 - 𝕚𝕞𝕒𝕘𝕚𝕟𝕖

𝕊𝕥𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕟 𝔸𝕕𝕝𝕖𝕣

𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕜𝕤 𝕚𝕟 𝕡𝕣𝕠𝕘𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕤:

˖ ࣪ 🍦‹ kwonienana⁺˖🏹 ⸝⸝𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐

➤ UNSENT <<part 2/3>> <prev

producer ! woozi × reader

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

𝐀𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐞: 3 | Maternal! figure | Caracalla & Geta

Summary: You serve as a maternal figure in the lives of the young princes, Geta and Caracalla. Only visiting for a few weeks at a time, you are a princess from the North who has grown into caring for the boys.

Warnings: Angst!, (some) fluff, mentions of blood, accidental injury, alludes to abuse— English is not my first language!

Work count: 0.8k

a/n: For this one, they are around 9-11. This serves as a memory. This series is dedicated to the twin emperors during their childhood and stories I have made after reading about it. After looking through some deleted scenes from the script, I found that all the boys want is to be adopted and loved. 

Series: 1, 2

More on my Master list! + follow & like pls

“Four, three, two, one…” Caracalla placed a hand over his own mouth, looking at you from inside one of his father’s liquor cabinets. He managed to hide himself well as Geta hid across the hall inside of his own bedroom; his small body fit inside of a traveling trunk. The boy giggled; you would never look here!

You wandered around the children’s foyer, pushing open the doors to each of their rooms and play area. “I can hear you…” As you entered one of the rooms, you heard the rattle of glass against each other. Caracalla held his breath and steadied his ribcage. You leaned down and opened the cabinet doors. The boy gasped and knocked over three of the glass bottles. The glass crashed onto the floor and the alcohol pooled around the cabinet.

The boy quietly panicked, looking around the halls before turning to you. “Calla!” You yelped as the boy quickly left the cabinet; glass pressed in his small feet. “Wait! Calla!”

Upon hearing his brother’s name, Geta pushed open the trunk where he hid. “Hm?”

“Calla.” You followed him to his wardrobe and Geta followed you. Bloody footprints tracked from the door to the wardrobe. The boy cried to himself, “Calla, please, let me see you. Your feet! They have glass in them, my love.”

“Father is coming.” Geta tugged at your gown, a fearful shake in his voice.

You shook your head, holding small Geta’s hand. “No, no, everything will be ok.”

“What was all that damn noise?” You could hear the curses under the old man’s breath as he made his way down the hall, so close to the door. “My drinks?! Who threw down my bottles?!” You went to the corridor of Caracalla’s chambers. “Oh…you.” You muttered as he looked you over a few times. His belly bulged with gluttony and his words slurred. He seemed to always reek of poison, his mind scrabbled and his anger directed at the young boys.

“It was only an accident, me and the boys were playing, your majesty.” You bowed to the man.

“Playing, eh? Always playing when you come around…” He squinted at the young boy that hid behind your gown. Caracalla continued to hide inside of the wardrobe; tears spilled down his face as the pain of the glass ran up his legs. “What is all this?” He looked at the trail of blood.

“I stepped on glass; I will have someone clean it.”

“You keep lying to me…” He squinted at you. He reached for your long curls; his podgy fingers caught in the pattern. You stepped from him, and placed Geta onto your hip.

“I would never lie.” You said back. Geta looked at his father from your height. Rather than scary, he was simply disgusting…but still frightening. “Allow me to tend to the mess. I will replace your…drinks.”

“Hm…as expected.” You looked from him for a moment, “For how long you will be with us this time…Princess?” He asked rather condescendingly.

“For as long as the boys would like.” You said, placing Geta down onto the bed.

“Your people are not worried…Sarmatia left vulnerable?”

You dismissed the comment, “My husband is doing just fine running his kingdom.” Your gaze ran up and down the mess of a man. He scoffed, “I can hear your advisor calling, your majesty.” He grumbled, glaring at the boy that was once in your arms. You turned away from the man and stood between the two’s gazes. The man left with a grumble.

You quickly opened the door to the wardrobe and carried Caracalla to the bath. He did not hold back his sobs as you removed the glass from his heels and toes with a small tool; his cries made your heart ache. Your own eyes watered as Geta held his brother’s head. “You will be ok.” He said flatly. His eyes switched from you and his brother.

Later that night, you held Caracalla to your torso. He slept quietly; his bandaged feet were held up by your other arm. Geta sat against the pillows beside you as he watched his brother. “You should sleep.” Geta quietly said.

“I was going to say the same to you, Geta.”

“I have tried, [Y/n].” You turned to him.

“Are you scared your father will hurt you? You know, I will make sure that never happens.”

“Yes, I know…It is not that this time.” He looked over at the open platform that led to the open courtyard. The sheer linen curtains blew inside of the room. “I fear, uhm, losing you. When you are not here, I look for you; In that way, I miss you. We both do.” The boy shook his head, “You mean a lot to me.”

“You both mean the world to me, Geta.” You whispered into his hair as he leaned against your side. “This pain will not last forever. There will come a time where your father will be put to rest. When there will be no fear.”

“Yes, yes, I know.” His fingertips rubbed the soft blankets, “I hope I will be better than him.”

“I have no doubts.”

“Really?” You nod. “And will you be here for that?”

“I can only pray.”

Series: 1, 2, wip

More on my Master list! + follow & like pls

Master List:

Series:

A Drop in the Ocean

Part one :

Tumblr

A Drop in the Ocean pt. 1

Avatar : the Way of Water Neteyam x reader , Lo’ak x reader Note : so this is just an idea I had in my head. I hope you enjoy, first time

Part two :

Tumblr

A Drop in the Ocean pt. 2

Avatar: the way of water Neteyam x reader, Lo’ak x reader Note : I don’t know how to link part 1 but it shouldn’t be hard to find as this

Part three:

Tumblr

A Drop in the Ocean pt. 3

Avatar: the way of water Neteyam x reader, Lo’ak x reader Note: This is part 3! Thank you for all the support; I wouldn't be this inspired

Part four:

Tumblr

A Drop in the Ocean pt. 4

Avatar : the way of water Neteyam x reader, Lo’ak x reader Note:Part 4! I can not thank you guys enough, I read the comments, and I just s

Part five:

Tumblr

A Drop in the Ocean pt. 5

Avatar: way of water Neteyam x reader, Lo’ak x reader Note:Part 5!as promised here is an extra chapter for today. Thank you for all the su

Part six:

Tumblr

A Drop in the Ocean pt. 6

Avatar : the way of water Neteyam x reader, Lo’ak x reader . Note: Part 6! As always, thank you for all the love! Each comment and each l

Part seven:

Tumblr

A Drop in the Ocean pt. 7

Avatar: the way of water Neteyam x reader, Lo’ak x reader Note: Part 7?! Can’t believe that. After so much support on the last chapter I h

Part eight:

Tumblr

A Drop in the Ocean pt. 8

Avatar: the way of water Neteyam x reader, Lo’ak x reader Note: I'm predicting about 2 more parts left in the story. With all your suppo

Part nine:

Tumblr

A Drop in the Ocean pt. 9

Avatar : the way of water Neteyam x reader, Lo’ak x reader Note: we are nearing the end! Thank you for the support. Love you all. I update

Part ten:

Tumblr

A Drop in the Ocean Pt. 10

Avatar : the way of water Neteyam x reader, Lo’ak x reader Note: final chapter! I hope you all enjoyed this story. I plan on doing the req

The Mazer Runner :

Newt :

Coming soon

The Song of Blackwoods & Brackens (chapter master list)

Chapters 1, 2, 3 here

Chapters 4, 5, 6 here

Chapters 7, 8, 9 here

Chapters 10, 11, 12 here

Chapters 13, 14 here (coming soon)

Chapter 15 here (coming soon)

Chapter 16 (finale) here (coming soon)

LOVER OF MINE (01)

SYNOPSIS note to self, don’t break a singer’s heart. their next album will be about you. charlie bushnell can speak from experience.

CONTENT 1 death joke and maybe a sexual joke if u see it that way

NOTE set before pjotv airs, but the cast have been announced for awhile, honey is only just now seeing it. tatertitty = tate

DISCLAIMER i don’t own these pictures, i found all on pinterest! also the reader’s fc is asian and reader does play cindy moon, aka silk, in the marvel universe but feel free to change that to something that fits you!!

charlie bushnell/fem. reader smau

series masterlist. prev.

hanihoney just posted to instagram!

Liked by jennaortega, tatemcrae, ynupdates, and 284,963 other people.

hanihoney hey

View all 72,839 comments.

ethanitup heyyyyy

user0 lmaoo not the 5 y’s…

user1 i love women

jennaortega 😳😳

hanihoney heyyyyy

user2 HELLO???? i miss u guys aww

oliviarodrigo matter of fact where’s everybody from

Liked by creator.

user3 does anyone know what happened between her and her ex she never posts him anymore 😭😭

user4 guess they broke up. which is so saddd they were so adorable

user5 who even was her bf

user6 we dont know 😭 she never posted his face

ynupdates so pretty :(

hanihoney no, you :(

user7 YN1 WHEN ITS BEEN MONTHS…

user8 i have a feeling in my boob that its soon

user9 u mean heart…? user8

user8 no user9

rachelzegler FACE CARD NEVER DECLINES

user10 this is a face economy actually

shessogone just posted to instagram!

Liked by olivvy and others.

shessogone tell me why i just saw that my exbf is gonna be playing luke castellan in the percy jackson series

View all comments.

ethanitup i thought there already was a pjo series

ethanitup lmao i just realized why is ur exbf playing ur childhood crush😭😭

shessogone my childhood crush was book percy actually 🖐️ get ur facts straight ethanitup

tatertitty u could play silena

shessogone id rather die!

olivvy pls tell me this means yn1 coming sooner than later

shessogone 🤔

🧾 © timefight

kim mingyu - "i miss my lover."

genre - angst :( ~~in which fans find out you and mingyu are dating, so what happens next? inspired by, "Mr Loverman" by Ricky Montgomery.

on a chilly, rain-soaked eve, mingyu found himself compelled to seek out his beloved y/n, desperate for even a fleeting moment in her comforting embrace. The relentless paparazzi had driven them to this clandestine existence, stealing precious time together whenever opportunity allowed.

as he neared your apartment, his heart pounded with a potent mix of anticipation and dread. slipping inside using the spare key you'd entrusted him, he prayed for a few blissful hours lost in your warmth and love. alas, fate had other plans.

an inquisitive neighbor, spotting mingyu's arrival, wasted no time in alerting the media vultures. before dawn, scandalous images of him entering your apartment plastered every gossip rag and social media platform, accompanied by salacious headlines and wild speculation.

you, oblivious to the brewing storm, was jolted from slumber by an urgent call from her manager. the gravity of their predicament crashed down upon you as you grasped the extent of the damage. meanwhile, mingyu too faced the wrath of his own manager, a man aghast and appalled by his actions.

damage control kicked into high gear, with the agency releasing a statement that confirmed their relationship and announced an indefinite hiatus for the couple. fans erupted in outrage, feeling betrayed and deceived, their disappointment and anger palpable. a scant few voiced support, but the overwhelming majority made their displeasure known.

bound and gagged, you and mingyu could only watch in horror as their world unraveled. separated, phones confiscated, and movement restricted, you were left alone with naught but you thoughts, the weight of their choices, and the dire consequences that now confronted them. the love that once brought such joy now felt like a cruel curse, threatening to destroy all they held dear.

as the scandal unfurled, the couple was forced to confront the brutal realities of their situation. the public reaction was vicious, with hate-filled comments and death threats deluging their accounts. you and mingyu were branded traitors, liars, and worse, every move scrutinized and judged.

the agency, in a desperate bid to salvage their image, imposed strict surveillance and monitored the lovebirds' every action, limiting contact between them. you were dragged before the media for grueling interviews and press conferences, forced to defend your relationship and its love or your group's reputation. .... you sat across from mingyu, the dim lighting of the room casting your eyes, usually so full of love and adoration, were now dull and lifeless, reflecting the inner turmoil that consumed you. you stared down at your hands, folded neatly in your lap, unable to meet mingyu's gaze.

the weight of your choices and his, the consequences of your love, pressed down upon them like a physical force. the once joyful and carefree couple now carried the burden of betrayal and deceit, their every move scrutinized and judged by the unforgiving public eye.

"it's not that i don't want to be with you, mingyu," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "but look at what our love has brought us to. we're drowning in this mess, and i... i don't know if I'm strong enough to keep swimming."

.... weeks after the break up, fans were mad, sad, and happy. mad because why would you break up such a joyful and lovely couple? sad because mingyu and you couldn't be together. happy because some fans claimed you were theirs and mingyu was theirs too. those were all opinions though. but a fact is that: mingyu still misses you. so very dearly.

MUSIC: Mr Loverman, Ricky Montgomery. @min9yu_k: i miss my lover, man. Liked by: ylangelegy, gyubakeries, hanniescookie, etc. COMMENTS RESTRICTED BY OWNER.

🃏👑🃏

You were married off to the king as a young noble woman. The arrangement was rather rushed in your opinion, not that anyone asked for it. The king only needed a show queen, a quiet but present symbol for the kingdom and you suited well enough for that.

He didn’t need a wife for pleasure, he had plenty mistresses for that and he seemed to be in no rush for a successor. You suspected it was because he had no intent to hand over power to anyone else anytime soon. Although, that's just what you assumed, others never blamed him for it. You were always the target of the hushed whispers and silent accusations of infertility, unruliness or even infidelity when it came to the subject of an heir.

The people's gossip aside, it was an easy marriage. You didn’t have to share a bed with a man you didn’t love and you didn’t have to raise his children. Many more deserving women would kill for such a life, which only made you feel worse about the utter discontent you felt. It was the loneliness, mostly. Such a privileged life and yet not a single companion in the world to share it with.

The king and his advisers only speak to you when they need you to make an appearance as queen. Their orders always dripping with condescension and near mockery. They’ve made you smile and wave for hours, waltz until your feet blister and recite a holy text’s worth of pompous poetry, but this most recent ploy was particularly concerning.

You sit on your throne next to your husband, hands in your lap, staring at the colourful figure in front of you. The bells on his ridiculous hat jingle as he bows his head so low they almost touch the marble floor. Quiet chuckles emit from the nobility crowding the massive ballroom and the unease in your stomach only builds.

When the jester picks his head back up, you can’t help fiddling even more with your dress, just like your husband's advisers have scolded you not to. The jester silently stares with his sheet white face, big red grin painted across his mouth. You want to shrink under the jesters stare, the blue diamonds painted over his eyes make his gaze feel piercing.

The king grins when he catches your nervous gaze.

“Do you like your surprise, my love? I thought you could use some cheering up lately. As did my advisers.”

He chuckles, looking over at the old men in the corner of the room. They smile back, amusing in a joke you're not a part of.

You just nod your head as politely as possible. You don’t know what's happening, but whatever they have planned can’t be good.

The jester skips up to where you and the king sit. He gives an exaggerated curtsy to the king, earning a laugh from him and the various nobility.

The bells jingle as he springs back up and steps closer to you. He stretches his hand out, you stare at it and then back to your husband.

“The fool wants a dance, my dear. Give him a dance.”

You try to hide the apprehension on your face and reach for the jesters white glove-covered hand. He doesn’t squeeze or pull you up like you expected, instead he holds it gently, waiting for your next move. You rise from your throne and cast one more glance at your husband, who only offers a self-satisfied grin in return. This whole time all they've wanted from you is a perfect queen and now they want you to dance with a fool?

The jester walks you to the middle of the room, encircled by leering nobility. He places your hand on his waist before dramatically correcting the mistake and placing it on his shoulder instead, looking bashfully to the audience who snicker at the joke. He takes your other hand in his and gives you a little nod before the musicians starts playing and he guides you into step.

Now obviously you know very well how to dance, you enjoyed it quite a bit when you were little although, now it’s just become another part of your queenly duties. Did any of that even matter now? Now that it’s clear the king and his peers see you as just as much of a joke as the man you’re waltzing with.

Your deep thoughts are broken when said man unexpectedly twirls you in a dizzying circle. You flail slightly in your surprise but you’re brought back into his arms just as quickly to continue your steps. You fully focus on him now and you wonder what his features look like under that gaudy clown makeup. Even in the bright chandelier lights of the ball room, you can’t make out the colour of his irises. Earlier, you thought they were hazel but now it seems they're an impossibly dark brown.

The dark pools look as if they could swallow all the colour from his face and your own. Actually, has he blinked even once during this dance, or at all for that matter?

You’re not sure if it was your mistake or the jester’s but you step on his foot and he suddenly pulls away from you. He clutches his foot and jumps up and down in theatrical pain. The room bursts into laughter, bellows and cackles. These elite men and women delight in the humiliating performance you’re both putting on for them. It takes everything in you not to cave right there in the middle of it.

While the jeering continues, you try your best to steel yourself, replacing the need to cry with spiteful compliance. If they want a dance, they can have a dance.

You curtsy at the jester, offering an apology and hold your hand out to him. He looks around and then points to himself. You can’t help but smile and nod your head.

He takes your hand and when the music starts back up again, you step in time to the beautiful melody. You try and put your full attention on the jester, not anyone else in the large room, which proves to be quite easy as he is by far the most interesting person present. You can just make out the small smile under the red painted grin, his relaxed eyebrows under the bright blue diamonds, the crook of his pointy nose.

While moving in sync, you become almost lost in trying to map out his face under the make-up. You look for imperfections in the face paint but can’t seem to find a single smudge or brush streak, in fact the paint looks impressively even, like it’s a second skin.

It truly does feel like its only you two and the music, for the first time in a long time you feel wanted by someone else.

But when the king grows bored he demands new entertainment.

He motions for the musicians to stop their music and you’re brought back to reality. The jester bows for the crowd, he gestures to you and you offer a little curtsy before being escorted back to your throne. Form there, you watch the rest of the strange performers routine. He juggles an impressive amount of miscellaneous items, he folds himself into ridiculous positions, walks on his hands and generally makes a fool of himself for the crowd.

You watch in delight, though your husband doesn't seem as interested as he was before your little dance.

You think about the jester all the way back to your courters that night. You think about him as you slip on your night dress and slide into bed, and you think of him as you stare up at the ceiling for possibly hours. There is too much on your mind, the fun of watching the jesters performance has subsided and thoughts of what this means for your reputation and position in the court remain constant. A sigh leaves you as you lift yourself up and open the doors to your balcony.

You lean on the balcony ledge and stare out at the starry night sky, not even the strange jester can distract from the humiliation ritual you were just a part of. He could have been in on it for all you know and you're just naive enough to think he was being kind to you during the whole thing.

A shuffling sound from behind you makes you turn your head and it takes you just a split second to register the very colourful jester standing in the corner of your balcony.

The screech you let out is smothered by your own hand. You clutch the edge of the balcony, staring at the slender man who puts his hands up, waving apologies while moving his chest as if laughing, nothing comes out of his mouth. You clutch your heart, breathing quite heavily as you stare at him bewildered. You look around trying to discern where he could have come from, and how you only now hear his bells jingle as he waves his hands, still apologising.

He steps closer and stands tall in front of you, he’s much more imposing than you remember him being. He holds up one finger and then mimics a waltz. His head bows low and he holds his hand out for you to take. He’s asking for another dance but is there really much of a choice at all? Has this also been planned? If you say no, will he just leave? Do you want him to leave? The dance you shared was the most delightful time you've had in so, so long

You stare at him for a good while, he stays with his hand outstretched, bent over at a near 90 degree angle, not straining even a little. The longer you wait, the more uncomfortable you feel in his unwavering presence.

Against your better judgement, you reach out and touch his gloved hand. He curls his fingers around yours and stands upright. You let him bring your hand to his shoulder, place his hand on your waist and step closer. This time is different from the last time. Now it really does feel like his attention is only on you, not with the other guests, not with the performance. It should be frightening, but you find no malice in his eyes, no ridicule in his demeanor.

As he steps into motion, you begin a slow waltz in the small space of your balcony. It's slower than in the ballroom, it's more intimate. While you dance with this complete stranger, your thoughts run rampant, you second guess your judgement again and again. Maybe the kindness you sense from him is a ruse. Maybe he is here on behalf of the king, setting up another degrading show. He could even be an assassin, come to rid you quietly in the middle of the night.

You would deserve such a fate for giving in so easily. You slowly spin in his arms and this time you don't hear the snide laughs of the nobility, just the sounds of the night. Both of you step in time and you let him guide you to the edge of your balcony. You hold your breath as he dips you over the ledge. Your eyes squeeze shut and you let out what could be your last breath ready for him to let go and let you fall.

But he doesn't let go, your grip on his shoulders never slips. You open your eyes, a bit blurry from wetness but you can make out his face, because it's right in front of you even though you're bent over the balcony far enough that your feet have left the ground. You stare back at his unrelenting gaze. In the dim light of the moon his eyes look even darker than before and something new swims in the deep black of his pupils, something sad.

They are lidded as they examine your face, your entire being. His hand on your back presses your chest further into his until you're sure he can feel your rapid heartbeat through your very flesh.

He lifts you upright again, turning you away from the ledge and out of harms way. You’re still chest to chest, he’s so close but you can’t feel him breathe. Your wide eyes stare up at him, trying to discern his expression. Your breaths are short and your grip on him hasn’t let up a bit.

He brings his hands up to your cheeks, the warm fabric of his gloves on your cold cheeks has you easing into them far too easily. His eyes examine every inch of your face while his thumbs stroke your cheeks, you can just barely see the frown on his lips behind the painted smile. He brings your face closer to his, slow and methodical, making it very clear what his next move is. You’re not sure if this was due to his own hesitation or to give you time to pull away, regardless you let him inch closer and closer until his lips grazed yours and you finally feel him breathe out one long breath.

The kiss is deep. Despite being slow and gentle, it still forces a struggled breath from you. You would’ve thought he tasted like paint but he doesn’t, he’s warm and inviting. It’s nice.

Your eyes close, surrendering all hesitation to the stranger in your arms. Fingers dig into the fabric of his puffy striped sleeves as your body melts further into his. You quickly learn to breathe through your nose, out of necessity and unwillingness to part from his affections.

You let him work your mouth open, slipping his tongue inside. The feeling is so foreign, you can’t help but whine. The backs of his fingers flutter over your throat and you shiver.

His tongue fills your mouth, sliding along yours and savouring your taste. The wet muscle reaches far into your mouth, farther than you thought normal but your experience is slim and you don’t have the awareness to fully question it. It’s overwhelming. Your knees tremble and he lowers you both to the cold stone floor. His tongue reaches into your throat, a feat you know is impossible.

You’re too lost to even think of the implications of this, as you gag and convulse around the thick muscle in your throat that no longer feels like a normal tongue. He reaches so far, your eyes roll back, your lower region warms uncomfortably and you forget how to breathe. You tap his shoulders quickly, a plea for air, and he retreats from your throat. He holds you as you cough and heave, wiping the spit from your chin.

You look at him with the an expression full of shock and fear and bewilderment and every other emotion shooting through your fuzzy mind. His expression is hard to discern but he seems both amused and sad.

He stands and brings you up on shaky legs. When he starts to back away, you panic and clutch his hands tighter. You don’t know what you were hoping for. That he would stay? That he would spend the night with you?

His face is full of what you hope is longing and not pity, you know what pity looks like. He holds you close in what you know is a goodbye embrace. He presses his forehead to yours and he places one last short kiss on your lips. Its playfull and very much not what you’d consider a proper good bye kiss. You search his gaze and you’re met with rather boyish mirth, lifting your spirits slightly. Maybe this isn't goodbye then?

He winks at you and takes your hand, spinning you around once, twice and three times before he lets go. When you rebalance yourself and look around the balcony, there is no sight of the jester. It's just the pitying sounds of the night and your only other witness, the moon. Like he was never there at all.

A couple drinks

Pairing: Slash / Saul Hudson x reader

Info: fluff and smut and 5 seconds or so of angst; 4231 words;

A/N: Hey guys. Here’s another fic for you. I am doing my best to work on the last requests, but I’m also working on a multi-chapter fic that I hope you guys enjoy <3

Keep reading