A/N: Wow I’m actually writing!!! What a concept!!! Anyways I had a random stroke of inspiration so i’m riding it as hard as I can before it fades again. As I’ve said before, this series is in a non-linear order, and intended to be able to be read as one shots instead of a progressive series!! However, feel free to go through the koh!tom masterlist (linked below) to read some of the other parts I’ve written. If you liked this part, please let me know! And don’t worry, I have more parts coming. I’ve already started another part (that may or may not contain some smut 👀) and then I have another part (about an event that’s been mentioned in a couple different parts) coming after that!! Do you guys like this non-linear one shot style of fic??? I’m finding it works better for me because I don’t feel committed to a progressive storyline, and it’s easier for me to write parts while also working and going to school full time!! Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this, and I can’t wait to hear from y’all!
{koh!tom masterlist}
{masterlist}
The rose on the pillow next to you had become a familiar sight. Although the appearances of the flowers had surprised you at first, you now expected them to be the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes. A small smile tugged at your lips as you picked the flower up, inhaling its sweet scent as you threw back your blankets and got out of bed. You carried the flower to the vase on your vanity, tucking it in with the roses from previous days. They were all wilting from the atmosphere of hell, but with a light breath from you, they began to perk up again. You fixed a few petals before sitting down at your vanity and touching your hair.
Morning tea was already sitting in front of you, as it was every day. You poured yourself a cup and added some cream and sugar, taking a small sip of the hot liquid. Although your first few weeks in hell had been rocky, you were beginning to adjust.
Well, adjust might be a strong word. At the very least, you were beginning to learn how to act and what to do there. You still ached for the surface, and for the fresh air that every angel craved, but you were no longer in fear for your life every moment of the day. Now that you had been there for a few weeks—maybe even a month—you were almost entirely sure that tonight’s dinner menu wouldn’t include you.
You had even grown used to the king of hell. Tom was a fearful thing to behold, but you stood your ground whenever he was around, and he no longer tried to test you. Of course, he did have requirements for you, but they weren’t the worst things in the world.
Once you finished your tea, you dressed and made your way down to the dining hall, where one of the requirements was waiting for you. Although you had originally taken all your meals alone, Tom requested your presence at breakfast, lunch, and dinner. The first time he asked this of you, you had been terrified. However, now you knew that it typically meant eating in silence while occasionally catching his gaze when you looked up. His stare was always intense and purposeful, and while it was originally a source of anxiety, you now thought he stared at you in curiosity.
That breakfast was no different. A servant pulled out your chair, allowing you to sit across from Tom. A glass of water was poured for you, along with another cup of tea. Tom raised his own glass to you, a dark liquid in it that you couldn’t identify. Instead of dwelling on the question of what he drank, you simply raised your own glass in a quiet greeting before taking a sip.
Breakfast was brought out on gold platters and set down in front of each of you. Tom had finally begun to provide for your preferred diet, so your breakfasts mainly consisted of eggs and toast, as well as a bowl of fruit that, despite appearing to be fresh, had a slightly strange taste to it that came with being in such an unnatural place. Tom’s breakfast, in contrast, was much like his other meals: dark with a large piece of protein, usually steak, and various sides.
Throughout breakfast, you could feel his eyes on you, watching your every move. You ignored it as always, taking small bites of your food. However, when your plate was almost cleared, the usual routine began to change.
Tom cleared his throat after a sip of his drink. “Did you sleep well?”
You looked up in surprise, turning and glancing around before looking back at him. You were certain he wasn’t talking to you, but there was no one else around. “Are you talking to me?”
“Aye.” He nodded tersely, his voice low. “Who else is here?”
“I just—I didn’t think you’d ask me something like that. Or ask me anything at all.” You shrugged a bit.
“Well, I am.” His voice had a tinge of annoyance in it. “Did you?”
“Sleep well?” You clarified. When he nodded again, you mimicked the action. “I…slept as well as I could, given the circumstances.”
“Given the circumstances.” He repeated. “And the circumstances are…?”
“That I’m in hell?” You didn’t mean to sound like you were asking a question, but you couldn’t keep the confusion out of your voice. “It’s not exactly a comfortable place for an angel.”
“I’ve given you a place of comfort, angel.” Tom took another bite of his steak. “A comfortable room, a bed, the freedom to roam—”
“But I’m not supposed to be here. This place, it….” You shivered as you thought about it. “It’s rejecting me. The sulfur in the air burns my nose when I breathe in, and it irritates my skin when it’s exposed to it. There’s no light, no fresh air…it leaves me feeling sick.”
Tom picked at his food, silent for a moment. “I see.”
More silence followed. You waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t, so you did it for him.
“Does that surprise you?” You asked, taking a bite of your eggs.
“I suppose not. I just hadn’t…considered the atmosphere here for you.” He looked down. “Are you in pain?”
If you were surprised before, you were just plain shocked now. “Does that matter to you?”
“Answer the question.”
“Answer mine.” You retorted. “The night I was dragged down here, you threatened to pluck the feathers of my wings one by one. Now you’re asking if I’m in pain? Do you want me to say yes?”
“I want you to be honest with me.” Tom muttered. “Are you in pain?”
“I…” You contemplated the responses you could give. If you said yes, would you be able to convince him to send you home? Did he have enough humanity left in his monstrous soul? “It’s…manageable.”
Tom said nothing more, and neither did you. When breakfast finished, he excused you like every other day, and you left the dining hall, taking refuge in the library like usual.
However, the usual patterns broke once again when lunch was brought to you in the library. A servant brought in a tray laden with drinks and a salad, along with a few biscuits and butter. You looked at the tray with confusion. “Does the king not require me in the dining hall for lunch?”
“The king is currently indisposed.” The servant replied, setting the tray down on a small table. “He asks that you’ll excuse him until dinner tonight.”
“He asks, does he?” You couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped you. “Since when does he ask me for permission?”
The servant straightened up. Some servants had grown fond of you, while others didn’t take too kindly to waiting on an angel. This one appeared to fall into the latter category. “It’s a figure of speech…miss.”
“Oh.” You felt a chill run through the room, despite the lit hearth behind you. “I see.”
“Please be sure that you’re on time to dinner tonight.” The servant bowed their head again and left quickly.
After lunch, you continued reading until the late afternoon before retiring back to your room to get ready for dinner. You dressed in a long dress that you found hanging on your closet door, assuming that Tom wanted you to wear it. It was a midnight blue colour, with a sheer overlay over the bodice and skirt. You added no jewelry, only wearing the bracelet on your wrist that Tom had slipped on you when you arrived. It was impossible to take off, and kept you from summoning your angel blade. You touched it, lost in thought before the chime of the clock brought you back to reality. You pinned your hair back from your face quickly before going down to dinner.
Dinner was always more formal than breakfast, even when it was just the two of you. Despite the strangeness of the day, that night was no exception. The chandeliers were dimmed, and candles lined the table to compensate. As usual, there was a goblet of wine next to your water. You had tried to refuse it the first few nights, but the next night, you found it next to your plate again. Finally, you stopped arguing, and simply left it alone.
Tom was already sitting at the head of the table, drinking out of his own goblet. Normally, you would wait until he acknowledged you, but it was an abnormal sort of day.
“Hello.” You said softly after you sat, your hands clasping together in your lap.
Tom set down his goblet, licking his lips as he looked you over. “Hello, angel. Did you have a relaxing day?”
“It was the same as usual.” You replied. “I read in the library. I took my lunch there.” You ran a finger over the silverware next to your plate. “You were absent from lunch today.”
“Aye, I was.” Tom nodded, his face closing off. “I had business to attend to.”
“Oh.” You looked down when he failed to elaborate more. “What sort of business—?”
“The kind that doesn’t concern you.” He cut you off, giving you a long look.
You restrained yourself from giving another remark, simply waiting for the servants to bring in dinner. You started with an appetizer of salad, followed by a pasta dish for dinner. Finally, they brought in a delicate looking chocolate cake for dessert, portioned and plated for each of you individually.
That was when Tom chose to raise his voice. “I have something for you.”
You paused with your fork in the air, ready to take a bite of the cake. “You do?”
He nodded, wiping his mouth and standing up from his seat. He walked over to you, setting down a box wrapped in black paper in front of you. He then returned to his seat, taking a sip of his wine.
You looked down at the box, touching the matte paper before looking back at him. “What is it?”
“Open it.” He muttered, his eyes on his plate as he picked up his fork.
“Is something going to jump out at me?” You asked, your voice uneasy.
The corner of Tom’s mouth twitched, but just barely. “No. Just open it.”
You lifted the lid off the box, and the scent of the contents hit you before you could see them. The smell of the fresh flowers and herbs mixed together, filling your senses as you inhaled deeply for the first time in weeks, finally without pain. “What is this for?”
“Burn the flowers and herbs in your bedroom’s fireplace to help with the smell.” Tom explained. He watched you intently, gauging your reactions. “There’s more.”
You lifted out the flowers carefully before your fingers touched something smooth. You pulled out a crystal bowl, opening the lid slowly. Inside was a white cream that seemed to sparkle in the candlelight with the freshest scent you’d encountered in hell.
“It’s a sort of…balm.” Tom sipped his drink. “You said the sulfur was bothering your skin. Applying this twice a day should help stop that.”
“Where…” You dipped your fingers into the cream, and the subtle stinging of your skin immediately went away. “Where did you get all of this?”
“Had it made.” Tom shrugged casually, but his voice grew a tone softer. “That’s what I was doing today, when I was absent for lunch.”
“You had it made…just for me?” You replaced the crystal lid on the bowl. “But…why?”
He shrugged again, but this time, he seemed more embarrassed. It was a new feeling for him. “I…I thought you’d like it. You do, don’t you? Like it, I mean.”
His voice was nervous now, which was new for him as well. He hated how eager he was for you to say yes, but didn’t hate it so much that he could stop himself from wanting your approval.
You nodded slowly. “Yes, I do like it. It’s a very considerate gift.”
Tom hummed as he took a sip of his drink, but you could still decipher the corner of his mouth lifting into a satisfied smile.
You packed up your gifts and placed the lid back on the box carefully. “Thank you. Truly.”
Tom just hummed again as he continued to eat his dessert.
You, however, just stared at him with a puzzled gaze. You had never heard of a demon, let alone the king of hell, doing anything to make an angel comfortable. Giving you a chamber to sleep and a rose every day in was one thing, but gifts like this? Gifts to keep you more comfortable here? That was unthinkable. You couldn’t figure out his motive behind the move.
Once dessert was cleared away, Tom reached into his suit jacket pocket and pulled out a cigar, lighting it quickly. “You’re excused from dinner.”
Normally, when he said that, you hurried away, but tonight…something drew you to remain sitting. “Would it be alright if I stayed?”
Tom pulled the cigar out of his mouth; it was his turn to be puzzled. “You want to stay?”
You gave a small nod. “If that’s alright with you.”
“It—it is.” He cleared his throat. “Yes. I would…like that.”
“Alright.” You took another sip of your drink, silence filling the space between you two once again. You were beginning to realize, however, that the silence wasn’t one of not knowing what to say. It was more…comfortable. And comforting.
With another glance at you, Tom exhaled cigar smoke in the opposite direction.
KOH!Tom x Angel!Reader where the reader is pregnant with his babies and is nervous to tell him one of them is an takes after her and is an angel
9 months ago was the time where your life changed completely. At the time of you finding out about your new pregnancy, you thought this would be the end of the world as well as the end of your relationship with Tom.
January - around 7 months ago
You nibbled in your bottom lip impatiently as you sat on the edge of the bathtub. Your hand shook slightly as you stared down at the small stick resting between your index finger and thumb.
Around this time you had began to experience the worst vomiting you had ever had in all 1,400 years of your life in Hell (200 spent in heaven). A lot a symptoms checked the pregnancy boxes and sure enough you had ascend to earth, disguise yourself as a human, meet with one of your friends and tell her about the pregnancy situation which lead her to buying you a pregnancy test.
Now here you were on the edge of the bathtub, staring down at a singular faint red line. A grateful exhale passed through your lips as you looked up at the ceiling.
“Thank fuck! How was I supposed to tell Tom?” You chuckled to yourself nervously before looking back down again where the test sat. This time, with two bold lines and ‘2 months’ written beside one another.
“Fuck! How am I supposed to tell Tom?” You yelled, dropping the test and running your fingers through your hair. “Shit, fuck-“ you repeated over and over again as you walked around in circles.
February - 6 months ago, a couple weeks after finding out you were pregnant
You sighed as you rested your head against the bathroom door, listening to Tom mumble about his day while he was sat in bed waiting for you. Your hand rested on the doorknob before turning it slowly and walking out.
“There you are. I was wondering if you had fallen asleep in there.” Tom smiled at you. “Are you okay? You look a bit pale.”
You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear as an image of you violently throwing up into the toilet flashed into your head. You had to turn on the shower so Tom wouldn’t hear the sound of what felt like your inner organs being chucked into the bowl.
“Yeah, I just...” You crawled into bed and sat up straight, cross-legged.
“What?” His eyebrow twitched up.
“How would you feel about having a child?”
There was an eerie silence in the room. You heard shuffling as Tom adjusted himself and sat up straight against the headboard.
“I’m not sure. I’m constantly busy as I’m the king of Hell as are you - the queen. I just don’t think we have the time for-“
“I’m pregnant.” You interrupted abruptly.
There was another moment of silence.
“What?”
You turned around and saw Tom sat there in disbelief.
“I said I’m pregnant. Almost four months now, but I only found a couple weeks ago.” You licked your lips out of nervousness, white wings drooping slightly.
His frown formed into a smile, freaking you out.
“That’s amazing!” He replied.
“What the fuck.”
“I can’t believe we’re going to have a baby!”
“But you just said-“
“Ignore that. I’m just so happy we’re finally a happy family. After being just you and me for a thousand years I think it’s right we finally have our own little generation to raise.”
You grinned, your wings now fluttering awake out of joy.
“We’re gonna have a baby! A whole baby.” You grinned widely as you climbed on top of his lap.
“We are!”
August - the present day
Three weeks had passed since you had your baby babies. Three of them to be exact and Tom couldn’t be happier. Two boys and one girl.
Archie, Theodore and Rosie.
The two boys were a spitting image of Tom. They had teensy black horns spouting out of their heads that they couldn’t help but touch and grab onto as well as teensy black wings that matched their father’s.
However, Rosie was an exact copy of her mother. She had your eyes (but Tom’s hair just like her brother’s). But instead of black horns and wings, she had the most angelic white wings and proud white horns that were also beginning to grow slowly.
When Rosie was born, you and Tom exchanged looks before looking down at the third and final triplet.
“She’s an angel.” Tom said as he grinned proudly at his creation.
The King of Hell grew immediately to love his children unconditionally. He raised his two boys to become kings and his daughter to be just as strong. However, he always had a soft spot for her especially at times when he watched her crawl into the throne room at a just few months old, his heart would instantly burst at the sight of his small angel.
Warnings: Violence, angst, Tom being a hot asshole, possible smut in the future, and terrible writing.
Teaser | 1 | 2 | 3
Masterlist
You wanted to destroy everything he loved.
After all, he played god. Even a mortal such as yourself knew that he crossed a line. How dare the man believe he could get away with what he'd done, without the wrath of the Earth and its guardians getting to him first? You clenched your fists in anger, wanting nothing more than to kill the king of hell himself, but your orders were clear.
"Expose him. Find what he treasures—what he desires, what he loves, and when you do, Y/N, take it all away from him. Destroy him."
"Yes, sir."
The best hunter in all of Britain had now made Tom their target, and the man didn’t know. That, however, didn't mean he was unprepared. He was a force to be reckoned with, and no less—After all, what kind of leader of Hell would he be if he couldn't freeze it over himself?
He was the king, and you?
You were done for.
As you crept through the unguarded halls of hell, feet padding gently against the blood red carpet, you knew you needed to keep a wary front. Tom had been gone for hours, and it only took two more for you to build up the confidence you needed to stroll into the king’s territory undetected. You just needed to get in, gather intel, and leave without a trace. Simple as that.
No amount of premeditation, however, could have prepared you for what you'd come across upon entering his room. You wanted to find what he adored, wanted to destroy it.
You didn't think you'd be finding his dresser littered with pictures of you.
A/N: okay so do you guys remember last fall when all @bi-writes and i were talking about was the koh!au but with harrison. so. i’ve been feeling it lately but i feel like i can’t dedicate myself to a full fic rn because i’m going out of town for like a month and i haven’t updated my other fics in three months (*cough* trouble *cough*) so instead of starting another fic that wouldn’t get finished i decided to take a different approach! i’m going to write the scenes i want to write, and they’re going to be posted in a non-linear fashion. this means they’ll be less plot driven, and more emotion/feeling driven, if that makes sense. that also means that you can send in ideas or requests for koh!au things you wanna see!! or questions about how something would play out!! i can’t guarantee i’ll respond to all of them but i literally have this entire story in my head so hopefully something will match up. if i had a good attention span this could be a full fic but i don’t so!! short blurbs is what we’re going to do for now. also, i’ll probably be comprising them all into a mini masterlist which i’ll link to in my real masterlist which is down below!! i hope you guys like this, and let me know what you think!!
{masterlist}
When you woke up, the room was dark.
This was normal, considering the chambers you slept in had no windows. After all, what was there to see outside? The palace in hell was surrounded by the flames of the underworld and the souls of the damned, and neither of those things were a welcoming sight in the morning, especially for an angel such as yourself. It had taken you so long to adjust to the obsidian stone walls, the heavy black and red velvet drapes, the smell of sulfur that lingered in the air, even after you placed herbs and flowers to burn in the fireplace. Truth be told, you still weren’t completely adjusted to it. An angel never could be.
You felt rustling next to you, and you turned over in the bed, seeing Tom beside you. Another thing you could never get used to. His curls were tousled from sleep, different than his usually gelled style that his crown sat upon. His face was relaxed, soft in a way the demon king of hell could never be while awake. But seeing him, like this…these were some of your favourite times.
Thinking him still asleep, you carefully pushed his curls back from his face, your fingers tracing down the line of his jaw.
“Why are you awake, angel?” His low voice rumbled deep from his chest, raspy from sleep. His eyes were still closed, face half pressed into the pillow.
“I don’t know.” You whispered back, laying your head back on your own pillow. “I’m sorry for waking you.”
“S’alright.” Tom sighed a bit, opening his eyes just barely. “I was just resting. I’m fine.”
Yes, that was another thing you weren’t quite used to. While your body functioned like that of a human, needing sleep, having a heart beat, blood pumping in your veins…Tom’s did not. It was rare he slept, and when he did, it was for no more than a few hours. His heart stilled forever before he reached full maturity, and as for blood…you had never seen him injured. You assumed he wouldn’t bleed.
Tom reached out a hand, fiddling with your hair like you did his. “Why are you awake, hm? What’s troubling that pretty mind of yours, angel?”
You half shrugged. “Nothing. Just…thinking, I suppose.”
“About?”
You hesitated. “How…I don’t really belong here.”
Tom hummed, a deep sound coming from his chest, his brown eyes closing. “’F course you belong here, love. Don’t be silly.”
“I don’t belong here.” You said again, your eyes flicking down. You couldn’t hold his gaze. “I…I’m not from here.”
“Doesn’t mean you don’t belong.” Tom countered, eyes opening again. “I’m the king. I want you here. That means you belong.”
“I just…I miss it.” Your voice sounded small.
“Miss what?”
“Above.”
“Oh, angel…” Tom sighed and pulled you onto his chest, his hands finding your back and stroking it gently. “What’s there to miss? Angry people rushing around all the time, destroying their own planet? Destroying themselves? No, you’re much better off down here, with me.”
“There’s plenty to miss.” You countered. You pressed your ear to his chest, and were greeted by familiar silence. “The smell of rain, sunshine, flowers growing, birdsongs…and I like people. Down here…you destroy things too.”
“Only things that need to be. Souls that deserve punishment, souls that sold themselves to me.” Tom suppressed an eyeroll for your sake.
“I miss my garden.” You whispered the words into his chest. “My rose bushes, my sunflowers…I used to grow berries, too. Strawberries, blueberries…I would make delicious pies and scones…”
“If you truly desire those things, then I can get them for you.” Tom murmured lowly. “I can send a demon to the surface for the fruits, all the ingredients you would need to bake. I’m sure anything you create would taste…” You could practically hear the smirk forming on his face. “Sweet.”
“It’s not the same.” You sighed, although a light warmth came to your cheeks with his words. “I miss the breeze. I miss the ocean. I used to run to the edge of the surf, dip my toes in the water…I loved going at night. On clear nights, the moon would reflect on the water like a mirror, two glowing spheres, watching over me…”
“Are you not happy here?” Tom asked, his voice gruff. “You know why you can’t go to the surface. The angels—”
“Would try to take me back. I know. And I don’t want to go back.” You shook your head, touching his chest soothingly. You can feel how tense his muscles became at the thought of you leaving. “I just miss it. Isn’t there anything you miss? Anything that causes an ache in you, deep in your chest?”
“The only absence that could ever make me ache is yours.” He kissed the top of your head. “Sleep, angel. Dwelling on these matters will only cause you pain.”
You kissed his collar bones, your eyes closing again. The sound of Tom’s breathing lulled you to sleep, the rise and fall of his chest acting like your own personal ocean.
When you awoke again, you could sense it was morning, even without sunshine streaming through windows. The bed was cold, with Tom long gone. Because Tom rarely slept, that wasn’t unusual. What was unusual, however, was the note sitting on his pillow.
Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you unfolded it, reading the words scratched in his familiar handwriting.
Breakfast will be outside today, on the palace grounds.
You frowned in confusion at the note. Tom knew you rarely went outside to the grounds; you could barely stand them. Between the sounds of the damned, the smell of sulfur, the heat…you typically avoided the depressing area. But curiosity got the better of you, so you got up and got dressed before heading out to the grounds.
Tom greeted you at the palace doors, a small smile on his face. He was dressed in his typical suit, all black, with his rings glittering in gold on his hands, matching his cufflinks. They also matched his crown, which was perched on his slicked back curls, the gold and rubies shining as much as his eyes.
“Good morning, angel.” He took your hand and pulled you close to him. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you, my king.” You held up the note. “What’s this?”
“I have a surprise for you.” Tom’s voice lowered as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. “And I really think you’ll love it.”
You shivered as his breath washed over you. “O-okay.”
“Come, angel.” He pulled you by your hand, the palace doors swinging open as he approached them.
As you walked outside, you felt all the familiar discomforts you expected. Tom squeezed your hand tighter as he walked with you. “You’re alright.” He assured you lowly. “Come.”
You continued on for a few minutes until something changed. You sensed it before you smelled it, and smelled it before you saw it. Then you gasped.
There was a garden. A real garden. At least, you thought it was a garden. As you walked closer, the scorched grass wove into fresh green grass, leading to a large hedge dotted with wildflowers. In the center of the hedge was a large wooden door.
“Here.” Tom took your hand out of his and pressed it against the door. You could sense the excitement in his voice. “It only opens to your touch.”
The moment your hand pressed against the wood, the door swung open, and you walked inside slowly.
It was magnificent. The hedge, higher than you thought possible, and the trees that created a canopy over you, acted like a barrier that blocked out the sounds and smells of hell. Instead, all you smelled was various flowers, and all you heard was—
“Birds!” You gasped in amazement as a small mockingbird landed on a tree branch, chirping happily. “How—?”
“I created it for you last night.” Tom explained. “After our discussion.”
You looked around you, spinning in a slow circle. Birds weren’t the only creatures there; butterflies flew through the air, and you heard the chittering of squirrels scrambling up and down the trees. Darting in and out of the hedges were a few bunnies, scampering away from Tom. When you reached out a hand, a butterfly landed on your finger. None of them would touch Tom.
“Are they safe here?” You asked in a hushed voice.
“This garden is its own ecosystem.” He replied, watching you look around. “As long as they stay in here, they’re safe. I swear it.”
“Oh, Tom…” Your eyes widened again as you noticed the different plants growing. Not only were there flowers (roses, sunflowers, lilies, tulips, daffodils…all of your favourites), but past a grove of trees were— “Are those berries?”
“Yes.” Tom led you over. You could tell he was excited. “Strawberries, blueberries…everything you’ve missed. There’s room for you to plant more, as well. And I set up a few stone benches throughout the garden, so you can come sit here when you need a break. There’s one under the willow tree, one by the rose bushes, and one by the—”
“The water.” You whispered, your voice barely audible. If Tom had been human, he wouldn’t have heard it. “Oh, Thomas…”
You walked slowly, almost as if you were in a trance, to the water feature against the edge of the garden. Somehow, a small waterfall flowed down from the top of the hedge, into a crystal clear pool. It wasn’t enormous, but it was big enough to take a dip in if the heat of hell overwhelmed you. When you peered into the water, you saw a few fish swimming around.
“Do you like it?” Tom asked, his voice growing unsure. “It’s not…done yet. I just did it quickly, so it—I can still add more, or take out things you don’t like, or—”
“Tom.” You cut him off, turning to him with tears in your eyes. “This is…wonderful. I don’t know how to thank you…”
“You don’t need to.” He said lowly, his eyes growing softer. “I…I want you to be happy here. I want you to feel like…this is your home.”
“I do.” You promised him. You took both of his hands in yours, kissing his knuckles, his rings. “Thank you. I truly mean it. Thank you.”
He smiled softly, pulling a hand from yours to cup your cheek. You leaned into his touch. “You’re welcome.”
Your eyes caught a movement in the corner of your eye as the breeze moved something you hadn’t noticed before. You didn’t even pause to think about where the breeze was coming from before turning around, your gaze settling on the branch of a large tree. “Is that—is that a swing?”
Tom chuckled. “Yes. Would you like me to push you?”
“Only if the king would like to.” You answered shyly.
Tom bowed to you, extending a hand. “It would be my honour.”
A/N: after a few months, I finally finished another addition to the koh!tom au! this one is more towards the beginning, during the first few weeks of being in hell. does it read a little like a 1d wattpad stockholm syndrome au?? yes. am I too old to be writing those?? yes. did I still write it?? also yes. let me know what you thought! and please, if you like it, reblog it. not just my work, but the work of others. not to be a PSA about supporting content creators, but please support content creators.
{koh!tom masterlist}
{masterlist}
The flowers had begun arriving three days ago.
Your first week in hell had been nothing short of terrifying. No angel had ever been there so long and lived to tell the tale, and you were afraid that your number would be up at any moment. Even after the king commanded that you be brought to a private chamber, waited on by servants, be served any food you wanted, you couldn’t relax. Every movement around you was a threat, every sound foreign. For all you knew, the king was keeping you like a shepherd keeps a lamb for slaughter.
In the meantime, you had created a routine. After you woke up, you ate breakfast, dressed, and went to the palace library. It was bigger than you ever could imagine, and hiding in the stacks of ancient books helped you feel at peace. You took your lunch in there, and tea, before returning to your room for dinner. Then, after a bath, you would go to sleep, only to wake up and repeat it all again.
Until three days ago, when you awoke to a red rose on the pillow next to you.
It was the scent that had woken you first. The smell of sulfur penetrated every surface of hell, made your nose burn each time you inhaled. When you turned over that morning, however, you were greeted by a light floral scent. When you opened your eyes, the red rose was lying innocently next to you, placed there while you were asleep.
You had sat up in confusion, picking up the rose carefully. The thorns had all been removed from the stem, making it safe to touch. When you examined it closer, you could see it beginning to wilt, wither from the atmosphere it was in.
You knew how the rose felt.
Blowing a light breath on it, the rose brightened, its petals returning to their original glory. You had no doubt in who had left the flower for you, but you were confused as to why. You were even more confused when there was another rose the next morning. Then another.
When you woke up this morning, you now expected the flower. Just as you did for the others, you breathed life into it, and wondered why Tom had left it for you. What was the king of hell doing leaving roses for his prisoner? And moreover, what was he doing sneaking into your bedroom every night? The thought made your face burn.
Looking down at the pillow, you noticed something new. Sitting next to where the rose was lay a folded piece of yellowed parchment. Curious, you picked it up and unfolded it, unsure of what you would find.
The handwriting was messy, but still refined. I’m having a ball tonight. Your servants will dress you in the gown I’ve picked. Be ready by 7.
A ball? There was no way demons would welcome an angel into their party for a positive reason. It seemed the shepherd had decided it time to slaughter his lamb.
Terror coursed through your veins, but you tried to steady yourself with deep breaths. Perhaps this was a lie, meant to unsettle you. Perhaps he just wanted to get inside your head. And why would you give a demon what he wanted?
Instead of sitting in your room, afraid of your fate, you decided to spend the day as you would any other. You ate breakfast, went to the library, had lunch and tea. But when you returned to your room, you found it changed. And populated.
The three servants that had been waiting on you were hanging gowns around the room, setting up trays of accessories and rows of shoes. You could smell fragrance emanating from the bathroom, signalling the luxurious oils that had been poured into a bath for you. There was more makeup than you could even name lined on your vanity, along with a set of hot curlers being heated up.
“What…what is all this for?” You asked hesitantly. You knew, of course, but you couldn’t answer the question for yourself.
“We’re here to get you ready for the ball.” One of them answered, taking your arm. “Come. We only have a few hours, and your bath is ready for you.”
“No, I-I don’t want to go.” You shook your head adamantly. “I don’t want to go to a ball. I’d much rather stay here—”
“Your attendance is not optional.” They cut you off, glancing at each other. “The king specifically requested we prepare you.”
“Prepare me?” Your voice was barely a whisper. “Prepare me for…what?”
“For…the ball.” Another servant leaned over to her colleagues. “Do angels not have balls?”
“No, but we do have ears.” You couldn’t help the sarcastic remark that left your lips.
“Please, miss. We are just following our orders.” They sighed.
You sighed as well. “But I—”
“Come.” Two of them gripped your elbows and walked you to the bathroom, while the third began undoing the back of your dress.
Within an hour, against your will, you were bathed, scrubbed, dried, and sitting in a thin silk robe as one of the girls wound your hair tightly in curlers. The other two debated between the makeup, glancing at the dresses as they did.
“The king said he wanted to see red lipstick on her—”
“But won’t that be too much with the red dress? Especially with the eye makeup—”
“We’ll just keep the eye makeup more neutral. And the dress—”
“We’ll never get her in this one, it’s too low cut. She’d freak out at the colour alone—”
“What about this one? It’s modest in front, but backless—”
“The king would hate it—”
“The king sent it—”
You turned around in your chair. “Can you two please stop discussing things like I’m not here?”
They stared at you for a moment, their eyes unblinking. “That was quite rude, angel.”
“I apologize, but—”
“It’s fine. Rude is good.” They shrugged. “But be careful with your temper in front of the king. He doesn’t like to be interrupted.”
“If he wants me to watch my temper, then he should watch his.” You muttered, a blush coming over your cheeks.
“You’ll want to get those remarks under control before seeing the king.” The girl doing your hair warned you. “He won’t like them.”
“I’m not really concerned with what he’ll like.” You mumbled, looking down.
“We are. And I think he’ll like this dress.” One of the girls pulled a red satin ball gown from the rack. It had jewels embroidered into the fabric, and a higher cut front than you imagined. When they turned the dress around, however, you saw it was completely backless.
“I can’t wear that.” You shook your head. “No way. No. It’s not happening.”
But two hours later, you were in the dress with your hair crushed into soft curls, a red rose tucked behind your ear. Two of the girls held your hands as the third climbed under your dress, strapping heels onto your feet.
“Have you ever walked in high heels before?”
“No.” You answered nervously. “Is it…hard?”
They glanced at each other. “Maybe we should practice before you go to the ball.”
It took another hour for you to practice enough that you could walk without holding onto something, but the practice did nothing to soothe your nerves. Your dress was uncomfortable, your makeup was uncomfortable, your hair was uncomfortable, and the shoes…uncomfortable didn’t even begin to cover it. Perhaps this was part of the king’s punishment for you. It was certainly torture enough.
By the time you reached the ballroom doors, you were shaking. You were knowingly about to walk—well, stumble—your way into a room full of demons that hated your kind. Would you even make it to see the end of the night?
The doors opened, and you had no choice but to walk forward. Everyone inside the ballroom stopped and stared at you. You felt like you were on autopilot as you made your way down the path of parted demons, all dressed to the nines, to where the king was seated on his throne.
Tom was in an all black tuxedo, his crown glittering on his well-managed hair. He had his hand on his chin, his ruby rings sparkling as he considered you. You saw his eyes move up and down your form, pausing on the rose in your hair. He licked his lips.
You paused when you reached his throne, sinking into the curtsy the girls taught you. You could feel everyone’s eyes burning holes into your bare back.
You didn’t rise until you heard the sound of Tom stepping down from his throne, his dress shoes clicking against the marble floor. When you stood up, he was in front of you, a serious look on his face.
He extended a hand to you, the other behind his back. You took it nervously, unsure of what else to do. His hand was cold around yours as he led you to the middle of the room.
Still not speaking, he let go of your hand, and instead, placed his hand on your waist. The orchestra began to play a waltz.
You knew enough about dancing to pick up your skirt, letting Tom guide you as you began to dance together. More couples joined as you continued. Your skirt swished around every time Tom spun you in a circle, but it didn’t stop him from getting as close to you as he could. You could feel his hot breath hitting you as you danced together.
The band finished playing with a final flourish, and everyone on the dance floor began to clap. Tom, however, kept his grip on you, his dark eyes locked on yours.
“You look lovely in this dress.” His voice was low as he spoke his first words of the night to you. “Absolutely ravishing.”
“I hate it.” You said honestly, breathless from the dance. “I hate the colour, I hate the cut of it—”
“You should be grateful.” Tom’s voice was soft, but his tone was dangerous. “I could have dressed you in something skin tight, low cut…”
The servants’ warnings about Tom’s temper had completely left your head as your indignation rose. “I shouldn’t have been forced to dress at all. I shouldn’t be here.”
“And yet you are.” Tom took a step back from you. “You’re here, you’re at this ball, and you are on the arm of the king. Do you know how many here tonight would kill for that?”
You knew. As you danced, your eyes had travelled around the ballroom, catching the gaze of more than a few demons who were shooting daggers at you. Your instinct had told you to pull your angel blade out, but the bracelet Tom had placed on your wrist the moment you arrived prevented you from doing so.
“It’s one night out from your…prison, as you think of it.” Tom’s fingers moved to the flower in your hair, barely brushing against the petals. “Try to enjoy it, angel.”
“Why did you bring me here?” You ignored his words. “Why was I brought to a ball? Everyone here wants to kill me, and I—”
“And you think I’ll let them.” Tom laughed, his hand dropping from the flower. He snapped his fingers, and a goblet of wine and a crystal glass of liquor appeared on a servant’s platter. Tom took the crystal glass for himself, passing the wine to you. “Not yet, angel.”
You took the wine on instinct, but wrinkled your nose when you got a smell of it. “No. I don’t drink.”
“You’re in hell. Do you really have anything to lose?” Tom raised an eyebrow, sipping from his glass.
“I’m in hell. Apparently, I do.” You kept your voice deadpan, trying not to show your fear. You know demons feed off of it.
“Satan in hell, you’re stubborn.” Tom shook his head, draining the rest of his glass. “I thought angels were supposed to be docile little things?”
Your previous spark of indignation burst into a full flame. “When we’re not being threatened.”
Tom spread his arms wide, gesturing around the ballroom. “Who has threatened you here tonight?”
“Just look at how they’re staring at me!” You answered, glancing around the room. “They’re all—”
“Jealous that you’ve captured the attention of their king.” Tom stepped forward, gripping your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “My attention is all they desire, and yet…I’ve given it to you. They’re jealous.”
“If it’s all they desire, then why don’t you give it to them?” You pulled out of his grip, a drop of wine spilling onto the marble floor. “They’d be more receptive to it.”
“Because.” He grinned wickedly. “I’m having fun playing with my angel.”
A shiver ran through you. “I’m not your angel.”
“Yes. You are.” Tom set his glass down on the tray of a passing servant. “If you stop resisting, angel, you just might find yourself having fun.”
Your nostrils flared as you sucked in a hard breath. “Never. I’ll never find amusement with you.”
Tom laughed. “Then I suppose you’ll have a dreadful time dancing with me. Come.”
The rest of the night passed in a blur of dances, Tom’s meaningless chatter with important officials, and being the official arm candy of the king. By the time he allowed servants to escort you back to your room, you were exhausted, your feet were aching, and all you wanted was to take off your uncomfortable dress and collapse into bed. When you finally did so, you fell into a deep slumber almost instantly. Your sleep was sound, so much so that, as usual, you failed to wake up when Tom snuck into your room in the early hours of the morning.
The king crept quietly, placing his usual rose on the pillow next to you. He was careful not to place it too close, so that it wouldn’t be crushed as you moved in your sleep. Tom couldn’t help but admire the peaceful look on your face, specks of glitter still surrounding your eyes, your lips still stained red from your lipstick. You were the most beautiful creature he had ever seen.
He hesitated before reaching out, letting his calloused fingertips brush gently against your cheek. When you failed to stir, he moved his fingers to your hair, tucking a small strand behind your ear.
“Beautiful.” He murmured to himself, pulling his hand away. “Such a beautiful creature…you’ll like it here. You will.”
With one last glance at you, he snuck out of the room before you awoke.
A/N: here’s another addition to my koh!tom au! as i said in the last post, these are out of chronological order, as i’m just basing them on ideas i have. to be honest, i’m not quite sure if i like this one, because part of me thinks the discussion is a little ooc, but also these are both characters from my head so???? who knows. i hope you like it! let me know if you do!
{koh!tom masterlist}
{masterlist}
“I can’t believe you’ve never had a cupcake before.”
Tom grumbled, wiping his flour-covered hands on the front of the black apron covering his button up shirt. “Why in Satan’s name would I ever need something so sickly sweet? It’s just sugar covered in sugar, topped with more sugar.”
“Right. Because the king of hell only dines on the souls of the damned.” You rolled your eyes as you measured out vanilla, pouring it into the mixing bowl.
“I see your sarcasm has gotten better.” Tom chuckled, pushing up his sleeves once more. “How wonderful.”
“I’ve learned a lot from you. And now you’re going to learn from me, about a lot of things. How to make cupcakes…” You turned around and fixed his sleeves for him, rolling them tightly. “How to properly roll up your sleeves. Must you wear a suit in the kitchen?”
“’S not a suit. It’s a dress shirt. I took off my tie and my jacket, as per your request.” He muttered irritably.
Gripping his chin gently, you made him look at you, wiping a bit of flour from his cheeks. “You would enjoy baking more if you relaxed, my king. I know it.”
“I would enjoy baking more if I was just eating. I have servants to do the baking for me.” He countered, licking his lips. “They’re your servants, too, now. You have no need to sweat in this kitchen—”
“Except pleasure. I love baking.” You turned back around, continuing to mix the batter. “It’s calming. Creating something from nothing…it’s wonderful.”
Tom tried to crack an egg in the bowl, sighing when he saw shells in the egg whites. “I wouldn’t describe this shit as wonderful.” He began to pick out the tiny shells.
“Because you’re being stubborn.” You said gently. “Be more open-minded.”
“I’m the bloody king. I don’t need to be open minded.” He huffed, wiping his egg-covered fingers on his (completely filthy) apron.
“If you want me as your queen, then yes. You do.” You countered, whisking the eggs before pouring them into the batter.
Tom watched as you finished mixing the cake batter, spooning it into the moulds. You worked quickly, barely making a mess as you measured out each individual cupcake. You dipped a quick finger into the batter and then into your mouth, humming in appreciation of the taste. Normally, Tom would make a comment about your enjoyment, but there was something more pressing on his mind.
“Why do I need to be open-minded, if…” Tom cleared his throat, watching you put the cupcakes in the oven. “If you haven’t agreed to marry me yet?”
You paused your movements before slowly reaching for the kitchen timer, setting it for thirteen minutes. You kept your eyes down. “Because it’s a nice thing to do.”
“So is marrying me.” He reached out, taking your hand gently, examining your fingers. “You won’t even wear the ring.”
“Thomas—”
“Why is that?” His voice dropped lower. “Is the idea of marrying me truly so abhorrent to you?”
“No, Thomas. It’s not that.” You pulled your hand from his as you began to gather the ingredients for the icing.
“Then what is it?” Tom rounded the kitchen table, moving to the other side of it so he could be across from you. “You won’t say yes.”
“You haven’t even properly asked.” You countered, measuring out icing sugar.
Tom snorted. “I got you a ring, I tried to put it on your finger, and you refused. What else is there to do?”
“There’s plenty.” Your voice was flat. “Please pass me the vanilla.”
Tom ignored your request. “Like what? What did I miss?”
You sighed, reaching for the vanilla yourself. “Perhaps the fact that I am a prisoner in your palace. That you took me, kept me here—”
“I’m fighting a war.” Tom answered in exasperation. “And I have hardly treated you as a prisoner—”
“You did the first week. The first few weeks, actually.” You kept your ice on the icing bowl as you mixed everything. “And then you just expect me to marry you, out of the blue—”
“I didn’t even keep you in the dungeons. You have your own chamber, for Satan’s sake—”
“Do you expect me to be grateful for that?” Your eyes finally snapped up, an incredulous look on your face. “You didn’t keep me in a dungeon, so I should marry you?”
“The life you live here is far better than the one you lived in heaven. I know that for a fact.” Tom muttered. The tips of his ears were flushed, and it seemed that he decided that it was his turn to avert his gaze.
“I wasn’t in heaven when you took me. I was on earth. And you did it because I was trying to stop innocent people from selling their souls.” You shook your head, continuing to mix the icing.
Tom walked away from the table, towards the fire in the kitchen hearth. He stoked it for a moment before answering. “But things got better. I…we got better. Are you not fond of me? Do you not enjoy your time here? I brought you roses, every day, even taking care to remove the thorns. I showered you in gifts, jewels and gowns…was that not enough?”
You moved to the cutting board, taking a few freshly washed strawberries from the sink and cutting them. “Those are hardly reasons to marry someone.”
“Most would not even give you the choice.” Tom muttered. “I am king. I could make you marry me. I’m being kind—”
“The way you speak leads me to believe that kindness is a luxury in your eyes.” You cut him off, scooping the chopped strawberries into the icing bowl. “And that not forcing me to bind myself to you counts as a kindness.”
“It is. I’m the king—”
“And you think that means I should bend to your every whim?” You began scooping the icing into a piping bag. “That is precisely the attitude I wouldn’t want in a husband.”
Tom picked up a knife, cutting up more strawberries roughly. “Duly noted.”
You both worked in silence for a few more minutes until the timer went off. You pulled the cupcakes out of the oven, checking that they were done before setting them on a cooling rack.
Tom chewed on his bottom lip before speaking again. “Is it the ring?”
“What?”
“The ring I got you. Did you not like it?” Tom’s voice sounded more vulnerable than you had ever heard before.
“I—no. It’s a lovely ring.” You said lightly. You looked over the strawberries he cut, popping one into your mouth.
“Then it’s me.” Tom concluded. “You just don’t want to marry me.”
“I don’t want to discuss this anymore, Tom.” Your voice grew more tense. “Please, just—”
“No. I need to know. Is it me?” He continued prodding you. “Please, tell me. Before I lose my mind.”
“It’s…” You sighed, laying your palms flat on the kitchen table. “Do you really want to know?”
“Yes?”
“You never asked me.” You said, your voice strained. “You never asked me to marry you.”
Tom scoffed. “Yes, I did.”
“No, you didn’t.” You countered. “You tried to put a ring on my finger and said that I was to be your wife. You never asked. And do you know why?”
Tom crossed his arms. “Enlighten me, angel. Why?”
“Because you don’t love me.” Your eyes drifted down. “You haven’t said it to me, and I haven’t said it to you. So why would I marry someone who doesn’t love me? Whom I don’t love? Why?”
Tom’s ears burned as he dropped his arms. “You—I—we—” He struggled for words. “We’ve fucked.”
It was your turn for your ears to burn. “That doesn’t mean we’re in love. You told me that much.”
“Not always, but—”
“Please. Drop it, Thomas. Please.” You looked at him with begging eyes, and he sighed. You always knew how to touch his softer side.
“Fine. We won’t discuss it anymore. Not right now.” He said softly, picking up a cooled cupcake. “Now how am I supposed to eat this?”
You couldn’t help but smile a bit. “With the icing. I’ll show you how.”
