#faust fluff

You jolted awake to the sound of the phone ringing at three in the morning, one hand clutching your chest as you tried to find the phone in your disoriented state. 

A late-night phone call was never good, and you were acutely aware of the fact that Faust was out partying with his friends.

He’d planned on crashing at the Mayhem house so you didn’t have to go pick him up at an unreasonable hour.

But now, you were frozen, just about to grab the phone off the hook, thinking about the possibility of it being a cop on the other side of the line, about to tell you that Faust had tried to drive someone else’s car home and wrapped it around a telephone pole. 

“Hello?” your voice was a little shaky, full of concern. 

Immediately, you could hear muffled metal music coming from the other side of the line, and slumped over in relief. 

“Faust?”

“Oh good!” he slurred into the phone excitedly, very clearly off his face. “You’re awake!” 

“I wasn’t.” You couldn’t help but laugh, lowering yourself into the chair next to the phone “Everything okay out there?” 

“I just really missed you,” you could hear the pout in his voice, “I always miss you.” 

“I miss you too.” You muttered, “Do you want me to come get you?” 

“No, no- you should be sleeping.” 

“I was sleeping, baby.” You reminded him, “I think you’re the one who should be sleeping.” 

“Oh fuck- did I wake you up? I’m so sorry, Angel, I-” He rambled, but you cut him off before he could get too worked up over it. 

“It’s alright, Faust.” You chuckled into the receiver, “I really don’t mind. It’s nice to hear your voice.”

“Faust, what the hell are you doing?” You heard one of the boys shout on the other side of the line. “Get off the phone!” 

“What?” He shouted back drunkenly, “I can’t talk to my girl on the phone? Fuck you!”

You grimaced at the volume and held the phone a few inches away from your ear. 

“She’s probably sleeping!” You were pretty sure it was Occultus arguing with him, “Man, hang up!” 

“Why?” Faust huffed, a little further from the phone “She picked up! Leave me alone!” 

“Then why don’t you just get her to come get you?” his best friend groaned in the background. 

“Cause she’s sleeping!” 

You could hear a scuffle and some muffled grumbling from both sides, and you guessed they were wrestling over the phone. 

“Can you please come get him?” Occultus must’ve won the grappling match. It was his heavy breathing and voice on the other end, “He wont shut up about you, and if Øystein hears him, he’ll never hear the end of it!” 

You could hear Faust trying to get the phone back, and tried to picture whatever was going on over there. Occultus was probably sitting on him if he’d managed to keep the phone out of his grip for this long, but Faust had a good foot and a half on him and eventually snatched the phone back. 

“Did you hear that, Angel?” He was breathing raggedly into the receiver. “I’m getting beat up over here.” 

“My poor baby,” You played into it. “Do you want me to come get you?” 

“I want to see you.” He groaned dramatically, “You’re so pretty and I wanna look at your pretty face and your pretty hair and-” 

“You just hang tight and try not to drink anymore, okay?” You chuckled, shaking your head. “I can be there in thirty.” 

“Why not?” He pouted. 

“I don’t think I can carry you to bed, my love. I’m gonna need you to work with me here.” 

“Oh man,” He sighed dreamily, “I love when you call me little names like that. Fuck, I love you so much that it hurts.” 

“I love you too, baby.” You couldn’t bite back your smile if you wanted to. “I’ll see you soon, alright?” 

“Okay.” 

You rolled up to the house, unsurprised to see that things had died down considerably by the time you got there. 

It was pushing four in the morning, yet a few stragglers were milling around the yard, just as drunk as Faust had sounded on the phone. 

You kept your distance on your way to the door.

You heard a gasp to your left as soon as you walked in, and before you could even turn all the way around, you were lifted off the ground and being clutched to someone’s chest. 

You could tell immediately, based on just how high off the ground you were and the long inhale as he smelled your hair, that it was Faust, and not a random stranger.

“Angel!” his voice was soft, but excited. “What are you doing here? Oh, your hair smells so good.”

“You called me, baby.” You draped your arms over his shoulders and gave him a squeeze back before gently nudging him to put you down. As much as you liked being in his arms, he was swaying a bit, and you were scared you’d both topple over in his drunken state, “remember?”

“Do you want a drink?” He slurred, clutching your hands in his, “I can get you a drink, come on.” 

“No, thank you.” You chuckled, tugging him gently in the direction of the car. “I’m here to take you home. We’re going this way.” 

Faust stared at you lovingly the whole drive home with a goofy little smile on his face. He held your free hand over the centre console and pouted cutely every time you had to wiggle it out of his grip to make a turn until you were pulling into the driveway. 

His eyelids were drooping by that point, and he was obviously struggling to fight off sleep. 

You got him into the bed while he pawed at you clumsily, tripping over his long limbs while you kept him steady. You’d turned to go get him some water, but yelped when you were dragged into bed instead. 

Faust pulled you under the covers and tiredly clutched your back to his chest while you giggled softly. 

“I was going to get you some water,” you told him, turning around in his arms so you could look up at him with an amused smile tugging at your lips.

“Fuck the water,” He groaned tiredly, still slurring a little “just stay here with me.” 

“I can do that.” You reached up to brush some hair out of his face, then cradled the side of it in your hand, gently brushing your thumb over his cheekbone. “You’re real cute, you know.” 

“I’m cute?” he scoffed softly, looking down at you with hazy adoration, resting one of his big hands over yours,  “you’re the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“You don’t even know how much I love you.” He sighed, shutting his eyes 

“I love you, too, Faust.” You smiled, coaxing his hand to the side so you could bury your face in his chest, sure that he was falling asleep. 

“I’m gonna marry the shit out of you.” he mutted so softly into the top of your head that you could barely make out the the words. But still, you did, and stiffened, eyes widening as your heart rate picked up slightly. “I’m gonna get you a ring and you’ll wear a pretty dress and my parents will come.” 

Your breath hitched in your throat. 

“Stop it.” You breathed, “You’re drunk.” 

“I don’t care,” he rambled quietly. “I am gonna marry you and we’ll have babies, lots and lots of babies. I hope they all have your eyes, wouldn't that be nice?” 

“Shut up.” 

“What? You don’t want little metalheads running around?” He chuckled breathily into your hair at the thought, full of warmth. 

“I haven’t really thought about it.” You lied, curling into him, a little overwhelmed.

In all honesty, you’d never even considered having children until you met Faust. He had you thinking about lots of things for the first time. 

You couldn’t deny the almost giddy feeling that came with hearing him talk so confidently about the future of your relationship.

You knew that Faust loved you, of course you did, but it was still reassuring to hear that he couldn’t picture an expiration date for the two of you. 

“I have.” he sounded half asleep but clutched you to his chest harder “I think about it all the fucking time.”

“You’re all I think about. I miss you right now and I’m holding you.”

You wrapped your arm around him and smiled into his chest. 

“Go to sleep, you big softie.” You muttered, “I love you.” 

“I love you, too, Angel.”

“More than anything.”

If it was during sex, it would likely be when he's cumming. He can barely think when he's buried that deep inside you. The words just pour out of his mouth without being processed. "Ah, fuck- fucking love you, Angel. My pretty girl, shit-" Then, when it's over and he realizes what happened, he'd start rambling an explanation with wide, panicked eyes. "That's not how I was gonna tell you that!" He'd exclaim, "Oh, Angel. I'm so fucking sorry. You don't have to say it back, I just got carried away, and you know how I-" You'd cut him off with a kiss and tell him to stop freaking out and that you love him too, watching as his lips part in shock, then stretch into the biggest smile you've ever seen. "Yeah?" He'd ask, squeezing you tightly, "You love me, Angel?" "Of course I do."

I could totally see him 'practicing' when you're asleep. "I love you, Angel." He'd mutter into the top of your head after your breathing evens out, and he knows you're asleep. Even then, knowing you can't hear him, his cheeks would be burning and his heart would be pounding against his ribcage so hard that he'd be sure you could feel it. It would be followed up by a shaky exhale, bordering on a sigh of relief. He'd probably do it every night, and it would get a little easier every time until, one night, you're not sleeping as deeply as he'd thought and mutter it back tiredly, snuggling closer to him while he goes stiff.

"Are you awake, or are you saying that in your sleep?" "I'm awake" "Are you sure?" "that I'm awake?" He'd be able to hear the smile in your voice. "Angel." He'd groan softly "Yes, baby. I'm sure that I love you."

I could see Faust being really good at making sure you’re comfy and have everything you need while you’re on your period. 

He gets a little freaked out when you’re in pain, so the first time you have your period around him, if your cramps are bad enough that you're visibly wincing or bedridden, he’d treat you like you were made of glass and dote on you all day. 

He’d make sure you have all your favourite snacks and would literally feed them to you if you asked or looked particularly pained. The kettle would be going 24/7, ready to make you tea and refill your hot water bottle the second it starts to cool down, even a little. 

This man will do anything you want while you’re on your period. You want to lie on top of him all day while he plays with your hair or rubs your back? He’s on it. Want him to leave you alone? Sure, but he’ll leave the door open a crack so he can check on you periodically throughout the day. Wanna watch a movie he hates? ‘Alright Angel. Whatever you want.’

If you wanted to, he’d 100% be down for period sex. I think he’d be into it, but would be a little afraid to ask, so you’d have to initiate. He’s got a thing for blood, but doesn’t know how to tell you, and fucking you on your period is as close to it as he can get without proposing something a hell of a lot kinkier. 

Even when you’re not on your period, Faust would love running you a nice hot bath and washing your hair for you while you relax. He would try to make it extra special when you’re feeling shitty and would pull out all the stops. Bubble bath, candles, Epsom salts, he’s got it all stashed away so he can help you unwind and soak away the discomfort. 

You were supposed to meet Faust at Helvete after work, and when you didn’t show, he didn’t think much of it initially. He figured you were running late and went about his day. The minutes stretched into hours, and by the end of his shift, he was wondering if you’d forgotten that the two of you had planned to hang out. 

You hadn’t been dating all that long, just a few months, but he already knew that he loved you more than he’d loved anything in his life. He had yet to tell you, afraid of coming on too strong, but the two of you spent just about every spare second together. 

This was the first time you’d blown him off, and he had no reason to think it was anything more than an accident. 

He called from the store, frowning when it almost immediately went to voicemail. 

After going back and forth inside his head a few times, he walked a few streets over to the coffee shop you worked in to check if maybe you’d gotten stuck working late. 

The man behind the counter, whom he vaguely recalled was your boss or something, recognized him immediately as your boyfriend and sighed tiredly. 

“She’s not here,” He told Faust right away. 

“How long ago did she leave?” The tired, slightly annoyed look on the older man’s face was making him uneasy. 

“Pretty much as soon as she got here,” he shrugged, “she looked like shit so I sent her home.” 

“What do you mean?” He frowned, brows lightly furrowed. He could feel his heart rate picking up as worry began to tug at him. “Like, she looked sick?” 

“Sick, tired, I don’t know.” The man shook his head dismissively. “She just looked rough.”

“Huh,” Faust muttered under his breath before ducking back outside. 

Maybe you’d just slept through the phone ringing?

He couldn't fight the urge to go check on you and gave in immediately.

By the time Faust made it to your apartment, he was well past worried, especially after you didn’t answer the door. 

He knocked again and fidgeted in front of the door, contemplating using your spare key to let himself in. He knew where you kept it, and after a minute, he decided that he was worried enough to risk you being mad at him for using it and let himself in. 

It was eerily quiet in the apartment, enough so that he wondered if maybe you hadn’t gone home after leaving work. He stepped inside and shut the door quietly behind him, glancing around at the uncharacteristically messy entryway. 

Your boots looked like they’d been toed off and left where they’d been when you stepped out of them. Your jacket and purse were on the ground a little further inside as if you’d thrown them, it’s contents spilling out onto the hardwood floor. He called out your name and got no answer, so he wandered further into the apartment.

He found you in bed, wearing headphones and staring at the ceiling blankly. The music was so loud that he could hear it from the doorway. 

Well, that explained the missed phone call and knocking. 

Faust stood over you and only grew more concerned when you didn’t so much as blink when he waved a hand in front of your face. 

He understood what the old man had meant when he’d said you looked rough. Your eyes were bloodshot, redrimmed, and framed by dark bags. 

He’d seen you just a day before, and you were fine. 

What the hell happened after he’d left the previous morning? You’d only been apart for a day and a half, yet you looked like you hadn’t slept in a week.

“Angel?” his fingertips brushed over your cheek, and only then did you react. 

You finched away from his touch and stared back at him with wide, startled eyes before his face registered, and you relaxed. 

Slowly, you pulled the headphones off your ears and sat up. 

“Hey.” You breathed, offering an obviously forced, tight-lipped smile. “What’re you doing here?” 

“I was looking for you." he sat next to you on the bed, unable to hide the worry clouding his features. “You weren’t answering the phone.” 

“Oh,” You frowned, looking a little out of it, “my music was pretty loud.” 

“Are you okay?” he reached out to cradle your face in his hands. “What happened?” 

“Nothing,” you muttered, looking away, but leaned into his touch, “I’m just hanging out.” 

“I know you weren’t at work, Angel.” He tried to keep his tone light despite his concern, “You don’t look so good. Did you sleep?” 

“I don’t think so.” You admitted softly. 

“Why not?” Faust frowned. “Did something happen? You look like you’ve been crying.” 

“No,” you sighed tiredly, “I think it’s the weather, maybe, or stress, I don’t know. It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” he let go of your face and pulled you into his lap gently, glad when you let him, and tucked your head under his chin. “I was just worried, I’m still worried.” 

“I just feel shitty” you breathed shakily, soaking up the warmth he offered. You found that it helped a little. “How’d you know I left work?” 

“When you didn’t come by the store, I went looking.” He muttered into the top of your head. 

“I stood you up!” You gasped, suddenly full of guilt, and pulled back to look up at him. “Oh, god Faust, I’m so fucking sorry I completely spaced!” 

He opened his mouth to tell you it was fine, but you kept rambling, only getting more upset as you went, eyes welling up with tears. 

“Fuck, I’m the worst girlfriend ever and you still ran all over town looking for me I can’t believe I forgot-“

“Whoa.” He cut you off, looking so fucking worried that it made your chest feel like it was caving in “Don’t cry Angel. It’s alright.” 

“It’s not!” You sobbed, falling apart at the seams. The comfort and look of concern was just too much after sitting around all day, staring at the ceiling,  trying to avoid the unrelenting anxiety that had come out of nowhere the night before. 

“Hey, come here.” he pulled you into his chest and wrapped his arms around you, wide-eyed and unsure of what to do. “You’re okay, I’m not mad at you or anything.” 

“I could never be mad at you.” He rubbed his palm over your back while you shook in his arms, “never.”

You sobbed into his chest, unable to stop and very much embarrassed to be causing such a scene in front of him, but you couldn’t stop once you started. 

The more you tried, the more frustrated you grew with yourself, which only made it worse. Your breathing was just getting more and more laboured until you were gasping for breath. 

“It’s just so fucking stupid” you choked out in between sobs “you can go. It’s okay,” 

“Stop that.” He squeezed you tightly, frowning hard. “I’m not going anywhere, Angel. Just catch your breath.” 

“It’s alright.” He tried to keep himself from freaking out, but he was starting to think that you were gonna get yourself worked up enough to pass out if you didn’t stop “you’re okay, just breathe.” 

Eventually, you either tired yourself out or he managed to calm you down. He wasn’t sure which one it was, but he was sick with relief, still holding you in his arms. 

“Why are you so upset?” He tried after a few minutes had gone by, muttering softly into your hair, “I don’t understand.”

“I didn’t sleep.” You admitted shakily, speaking so quietly that he barely heard you. “And every time I can’t sleep, I start thinking that I’m never going to be able to fall asleep, and I get real freaked out thinking about it, which just makes it extra hard to get to sleep, and it kinda spirals from there.” 

“Why didn’t you call me?” He frowned. “I would’ve come over and sat with you.” 

“I didn’t wanna bother you,” you breathed, playing with the hem of his shirt. “I always get sad for no reason when the weather gets bad, and not sleeping just made it worse, I guess. I don’t know.”  

“You could never bother me, Angel.” Faust ran his fingers through your hair. “Not in a million years. I’d do anything for you.” 

“You didn’t sign up for any of this.” you sighed, scrubbing your hands over your face “I’m really sorry for not showing up and for freaking out, it’s not fair of me to-” 

“I love you.” He blurted, unable to keep it in. There was a millisecond of panic, but really, it just felt good to say it out loud.

“You-” You pulled away slightly to look up at him like he was crazy. “You love me?” 

He nodded, looking so confident that you had to believe him. 

Your lips parted in shock. 

“You don’t have to say it back.” He muttered, pressing his forehead up against yours so he could stare into your eyes, “But I’m signing up for all of it. Even this. You’re stuck with me now, Angel. No matter what.”  

“Faust, I-” you breathed, looking back at him with wide eyes, but full of conviction and what looked to him like relief. “I love you too.” 

“Yeah?” He couldn’t stop the goofy smile tugging at his lips. 

“Yeah.” You sniffled, leaning into him.

"Why don't we lie down and see if you can sleep?" He proposed, pulling away to kiss your forehead, then your cheeks, before finishing with a soft, sweet kiss to your lips.

"What if I can't?" You muttered, looking unsure.

"Then we stay here until you do." Faust shrugged, pulling you along as he settled on the mattress. "It'll be okay, Angel."

A part of you wanted to argue with him. To tell him that he didn't know that for sure, but a bigger part desperately wanted to be curled up next to him under the blanket, so you went along willingly, burying your face in his chest once he got himself situated and put an arm around you.

He ducked down to kiss the crown of your head and bit back a laugh when he heard you snore softly, fast asleep after less than a minute curled into his side.

You and Faust got dressed after getting yourselves cleaned up, hanging off of each other the entire time, desperate to remain as close to one another as possible.

He bought you a coffee at the cafe a couple of blocks away from Helvete and held your hand the entire way, glancing down every few minutes, feeling almost giddy that you wanted to spend the day with him. 

He wondered how long he could stretch this date. 

Euronymous was supposed to be in the studio all day with the rest of Mayhem, then Varg to record his new album, so the two of you would be alone in the store aside from the customers drifting in and out, so long as nobody stopped by to hang out. 

Occultus might at some point. Rarely did a day go by when the two of them didn’t hang out in some capacity. He just hoped that his unruly best friend didn’t scare you off. He could be damn near hyperactive at times and Faust didn’t know how you’d take it. 

He’d been at the party where the two of you met and had actually been the one to badger him into talking to you in the first place. He probably never would have had the balls to approach you had he not been fed beer after beer and urged to go talk to you by his best friend after being caught staring one too many times.

He'd have to thank him next time he saw him.

“Well,” Faust jammed his key in the lock and held the door open, waving you inside the record store. “This is it.” 

“Woah.” You breathed, walking into the very dark store. 

It was painted black from floor to ceiling. Its walls were lined with all sorts of posters and racks of vinyl, with a big display in the middle of the open space filled to the brim with albums. 

You recognized a few album covers on display, but most of them looked very obscure and niche.

He threw his keys down on the counter and showed you his little setup. 

“That’s my spot.” He motioned towards it, flicking on the lights before pointing to the bunk above it. “That’s Euronymous’ bed.” 

“He lives in the store?” You raised a brow. “Like, sleeps here?” 

“Yeah.” He shrugged, “I sleep here too, most nights.” 

“Really?” You almost looked taken aback as you looked around the little alcove. “Down here?” 

There was a couch and a little TV set up with a rack of horror films. 

“This is such a boy setup.” You looked up at him, amused. “You don’t even have a pillow.” 

“There’s a blanket.” He pointed, leaning into you, “And a beanbag chair.” 

“I can see that,” you chuckled. “So, what? You just get to watch movies all day when nobody’s in here?” 

“Pretty much, yeah.” Faust smiled, 

“I like it.” You nodded decisively, shrugging off your coat and draping it over the arm of the couch. “Is that what we’re gonna do?” 

“Until somebody comes in, yeah.” He shrugged, nudging you onto the couch while he picked out a movie. “Any requests?” 

“I don’t think I’d know any of them,” you frowned, squinting at all the titles. 

“You gonna get spooked if I put it on, then go into the back for a minute to grab some stuff?” He asked, looking amused. 

“Why don’t you just put it on after you come back?” you narrowed your eyes playfully. 

“Don’t think you can sit through the opening credits without someone to hide behind?” Faust teased. 

“I didn’t hear you complaining last night.” You pouted, jutting out your bottom lip. 

“Fine.” He sighed dramatically, shuffling towards the back office with a soft smirk tugging at his lips. “I’ll be right back.” 

You chuckled under your breath, sinking into the far side of the couch.

When he came back, Faust made himself comfortable next to you, leaving a little bit of room between the two of you, knowing damn well that you’d be tucking yourself into his side when the movie started getting freaky. Still, he didn’t want to come on too strong.

You made it through half the opening credits before curling into him. 

He made a sound that almost sounded like a laugh while you grumbled, very unseriously, that it wasn’t funny.

It all just felt so right. 

Like you’d known each other for years, and this was a part of your daily routine. Holding his hand, resting your head on his chest, while he wrapped an arm around you. 

His lips pressed to the crown of your head without a thought, like it was just something he did every day. 

You melted. 

The feelings swirling around inside of you were overwhelming. 

You knew that it was crazy, but you were so attached to Faust at this point that you actually wouldn’t mind if your date just didn’t end. You could take him back home with you after his shift was over, maybe stop and get him some clothes from wherever he actually lived, assuming that it wasn’t the store. Then you could just tell him he doesn’t have to leave. Ever. 

Maybe he’d look at you like you’d lost your damn mind and run for the hills. 

Or maybe he could feel the same overwhelming pull to you that you did to him. Maybe he’d just move in with you without a second thought, and you’d live happily ever after. 

You had to remind yourself that you didn’t actually know very much about this man. 

You didn’t know his last name, or if Faust was even his actual first name. All his friends seemed to have strange stage names, and you had no idea if this was his. You didn’t know his birthday or how many siblings he had, if any. You didn’t know his favourite color, or even how he liked his coffee, since you’d been too busy staring at him to pay attention earlier. 

You thought about what you did know. 

You liked him. 

He was in a band. You didn’t know the name of it, and hadn’t actually heard him play, but you knew he played the drums. 

He was a metalhead. 

He worked in the store you were sitting in and liked to spend his time watching scary movies. 

He sure knew how to fuck. 

Good kisser. 

Warm hands...

You were losing your train of thought. 

Faust noticed your grip on his hand loosening and looked down to find you deep in thought. 

“Hey,” He nudged you gently, “You okay?” 

“Huh?” you frowned, looking up at him. “Oh. I was just thinking.” 

For a second, Faust felt a flash of fear that you’d suddenly come to your senses and were trying to come up with an excuse to leave. 

“I like you,” you muttered, able to feel your cheeks warming, “Like, more than anyone should like someone they’ve known for less than a week.” 

His lips parted, and his eyes widened slightly. 

“I know that’s fucking crazy.” You backtracked immediately, feeling like an idiot. “Oh, god. I don’t know why I said that. I shouldn’t have.” 

You hid your face in your hands, a little mortified. 

You always did this.

Just said whatever you were thinking. It had landed you in hot water more times than you could count. 

Once Faust got over the initial shock of your confession, there was little he could do to wipe the goofy grin off his face. 

“Hey.” He wrapped his warm hands around your wrists and gently moved them away from your face. “I get it, okay? Me too. I don’t want you to leave.”

“Well, good, cause I don’t want to.” You cracked a little smile, still a bit pink. “Like at all.” 

 “Come here.” Faust nudged you until you were straddling him and cradled your face in his hands. The way he was looking at you was melting your insides. “Maybe it is a little crazy, but we could spend the whole weekend together. I don’t have to work tomorrow. I have to go practice in the afternoon, but you could come to that too.” 

“Careful.” You rested your hands over his, staring into those big brown eyes. “If you let me sink my claws into you, you might never get rid of me.” 

“That’s the plan.” He breathed, not even thinking about what was coming out of his mouth. He was leaning into you, getting closer and closer to your lips. 

You leaned in the rest of the way and sighed contently into his mouth when your lips met. 

It was a sweet kiss. 

The kind that said a thousand words without making a sound. 

When you both pulled back, your foreheads pressed together, eyes locked in a stare so full of emotion that you shuddered. 

“What’s your favourite colour?” you blurted.

“What?” his brows pulled together slightly.

“I was just thinking that I don’t really know anything about you.” You explained, draping your arms over his shoulders so your fingers could weave themselves in his hair. “So, if you’re willing to answer them, I’ve got questions. Lots of them.” 

“Does that mean I get to ask you all of my questions?” His lips curled into a half smile at the corner of his mouth. 

“You have questions?” You smiled. 

“Of course I do.” He scoffed, “How could I not?” 

“You’ve gotta answer the first one.” You urged, “Your favourite colour. What is it?” 

“I’ll give you one guess.” Faust raised a brow, gesturing towards his all black outfit. 

“Okay, silly question.” You chuckled, rolling your eyes playfully. “Now you can ask one.” 

“The pictures in your hallway.” He didn’t even have to think about it. “Did you paint those?” 

“Yeah.” You nodded, cheeks warming slightly. “You liked them?” 

“They’re really good,” He nodded right away, “dark though, very different from your girly room.” 

“My room is not girly!” You exclaimed in mock defense. “It’s just a little pink.” 

“It’s very pink.” Faust teased, “Your bathroom, too.” 

You pouted, and he kissed you.

Final Part

You jolted awake, sitting up in bed as a strangled gasp tore through your throat. 

Your chest was heaving, forcing air into your lungs while your heart raced and tears ran down your cheeks. 

It was just a dream. 

Just a stupid, vivid nightmare. 

But fuck, it had felt so real.  Felt like you were back in that house, standing in the doorway of Pelle’s room, listening to the steady drip of blood falling from the ceiling. 

You were too worked up to notice that you’d woken Faust until you felt his warm hand on your back. You hadn’t expected it and flinched away from his touch, whipping your head over your shoulder, only to immediately relax when you saw his concerned look and outstretched hand. 

“Hey,” He spoke lowly, as if he were talking to a scared, wounded animal, “You’re okay. What’s wrong, Angel?” 

Your eyes welled up with tears, and the second you blinked, they joined the stray ones staining your red cheeks. 

“Nightmare?” He spoke when it became clear that you just couldn’t. 

You nodded tightly, and the movement shook loose more tears, curling in on yourself. 

“C’mere.” Faust opened his arms to you and swept you into his lap when you crawled towards him, wrapping his arms around your tired body while you shook, desperately trying not to start sobbing. “You wanna talk about it?” 

“No,” your voice was shaky, “can you just hold me?” 

“Yeah, Angel.” His thumb swept over the bare skin of your arm, soothing your trembling form, “whatever you need,” 

“I’ve got you.” He pressed his lip to the crown of your head and leaned back against the headboard, keeping you in his arms. “I’ve always got you.” 

You just couldn’t hold back your sobs any longer. Not while you were safely tucked into Faust’s chest, listening to his soothing voice and the steady thud of his heart beating inside his chest. 

The first one sounded more like a gasp, choked and wet. 

His arms tightened around you, and he felt his chest ache. 

He hated it when you cried. It physically pained him, but he knew that you needed this. Needed to get it all out so you could work your way towards sleep. 

“It’s okay,” He muttered into your hair, rocking you back and forth gently. “Just let it out, Angel. You’re alright. I’ve got you.” 

The floodgates opened, and before you could process what happened, you’d tired yourself out, hiccuping little cries into his skin while he continued whispering reassurances and sweet nothings, an endless loop of comfort, just for you. 

His palm rubbed soothingly up and down your back, until you were struggling to keep your swollen eyes open. 

“There you go,” he breathed, slowly inching down until you were lying down without letting go of you. “That’s it, get some sleep, Angel.” 

“I’m sorry for waking you up.” You whimpered into the side of his neck, half asleep.

“Stop that,” He frowned, kissing your forehead. “Don’t be sorry.” 

“I love you,” You borderline slurred into his skin. 

“I love you, too.” 

I mention in one of my Pelle dating headcanons that he would give you a necklace with a vial of his blood, but if Faust's witchy GF did that for him, he'd wear that shit with his whole chest, showing it off to anyone who asked about it, even his friends because how could he not feel all cocky when his girl loves him so much that she'd bleed for him.

I could totally see him being determined to make something for you too, so that you could feel as special as he did, even if he knows nothing about being artsy or crafty at all. He'd re-make it over and over again, trying to get it perfect until you finally find one, or ten of his failed attempts, and ask him about it.

Pink-cheeked and sheepish, he'd try to sweep them into a drawer and hide them, explaining that he was trying to make you something, but just couldn't get it right. You'd make him show you and gush over whatever it is that he'd made, showering him with praise and affection until he finally agrees to just give it to you so you could show all your friends.

AHHH I love him, he's so cute!