#This is Dart with his fuckin cat

[bi-writes]

I think first make out session of Simon and his mail order bride happened because she wore sundress all day ~~ i'm a bit addicted to the way you writing Simon

mail-order bride

reader described as curvier/plus-sized 18+

simon has gotten away with a lot of things ever since he married you. he's kept a respectful distance; gentle touches, affectionate ones, sure, but it's been easy to brush off the itch in the back of his head ever since he scratched it just enough when he kissed you for the first time.

when the itch becomes too severe, he's been able to hide away for a little while; running it out of his system working out, shaking it off in the field, drinking so it quiets when he makes his way to the pub.

but it's gotten a lot harder lately to pretend he doesn't see you for what you are.

a pretty girl.

he tells you that you're pretty all the time. in the mornings when you're still waking up. sitting at the counter as you watch him make sandwiches for lunch. pushing the cart in the aisle at the market, picking out the right cuts of meat or seeing which crisps you both can enjoy for movie night. and you are pretty all those times, all the time, in fact, and you were pretty when he kissed you, too.

but fuck. you're also...you're also so fucking pretty.

simon kicks off his boots at the front door, holding a few paper bags in his hands from his trip to the store. the weather has been getting warmer, summer creeping by (his most dreaded season since it forces him to take off layers he'd rather keep), and you had been begging simon for some sweet icy treats and a water fountain for the cat (it'll keep her from drinking out of your water glasses, simon).

when he steps into the kitchen, you're coming in from the backyard, flowers in your hands that the neighbor must have given you.

and you're wearing the cutest little white and red sundress (and suddenly he doesn't hate summer so much anymore).

it's got a cherry pattern on it and puffy sleeves. the bodice hugs you until the middle, where it fans out in a pillowy skirt, stopping just above your knees. there's a soft bow tied around the back, but simon really can't help himself from his eyes that narrow in on your figure and how incredible you look with the sunlight behind you.

"hi, simon," you coo, and simon glares, fucking tease. he has an inkling you don't even know what you're doing to him, you can't, not with that sweet little smile and the way you rock onto your toes. you even tied your hair up with a bow, and simon can't help but feel like you're his little gift, all wrapped up just for him.

one he wants to pluck, unravel until you reveal whatever you've been hiding underneath it all--

"oh! look it! oh, simon!" you giggle, grabbing the bag from him when you see the box that pokes out of it. you pull out a sweet, red ice lolly, cherry-flavored, and you lean up on your toes to give simon a big, wet kiss on his cheek before sucking it into your mouth. "mmm...thank you...just what i needed, it's so warm today."

bloody fuckin' christ.

your tongue is so pink. it's sliding up the edge of it until you suck it back into your mouth, and simon lets out the shakiest breath. it's unlike him, and you turn to face him fully when you notice the way he's staring at you. he looks good today, dark denim jeans and a wrinkled white t-shirt that stretches around his big arms, and your eyes dart to his tattoo sleeve for just a moment before you smile back up at him.

"what?" you ask him gently. "you want some?"

instead of offering him his own lolly, you simply tilt yours in his direction. he huffs, letting out an irritated laugh before he leans forward a licks a fat stripe up the side of the cherry ice.

you smile a little as he does, and you don't even realize your gaze has dropped. you're eyeing the way his mouth moves, taking in the hinge of his jaw and the light stubble along it and the scar that stretches across his whole face that you kiss sometimes when he falls asleep before you.

he groans a little as he takes a bite of the lolly, and you seize at the sound, dropping the lolly into the sink on accident as you scramble to look up at him. you stare at each other, lidded brown eyes just piercing into your own. you're quiet for only a few more moments before you're throwing yourself at him.

he nearly slams you against the closest wall. your back hits it firmly, rattling the pictures that hang there, and you throw your arms around his neck as he kisses you feverishly. his hands slide down your waist to your lower back, and you stand on your toes, his palms cupping your ass before he picks you up with ease, guiding your plush thighs to wrap around his waist as he holds you there.

you don't know how long you kiss against the wall, but you're breathless when he pulls away. you chase him, kissing along his nose, his cheek, any of the skin that you can get, and simon grunts lowly, cradling the back of your neck.

"we shouldn't," he mutters.

"why not?" you whine, and he hisses, looking into your eyes, hungry, big man, struggling to keep himself away from you. but it isn't what you want, you want him to kiss you, you want more, more, more--

you stand back on your toes, pushing him backwards. simon follows you, his hands bunched around the skirt of your dress as you walk him further into the living room until the couch hits the back of his knees, and he sits with a heavy breath. you bend to go sit in his lap, and simon curses under his breath, leaning his head back against the couch as your cleavage crowds his line of sight.

"fuckin' christ, baby," simon says lowly, running a rough hand over his face. he grunts when you take a seat in his lap, stretching your knees to straddle him, and you cage him in with your arms as you guide his chin back down so you can kiss him. you slot your mouth over his, kissing him lazily, and when you press your chest against his, he breathes out heavily when he feels your pebbled nipples through your dress. "fuck--fuck, fuck--"

"not yet," you giggle between kisses, and simon groans audibly as he slips two big hands under your dress and grabs both sides of your ass, his fingertips slipping under the lace of your panties so he can get a warm feel of you. you sit yourself down deeper in his lap, and you pull away slowly when you feel him underneath you.

he blinks his eyes open slowly, and you tentatively sit a little more in his lap, your eyes widening a little when you feel him between your thighs.

holy fucking shit--

"jesus," you stutter, and he looks away from you, ears reddening, and you're quick to cup his cheeks to bring his eyes back to you. you smile a little, leaning in again, and you press your forehead to his before giving him the gentlest grind of your hips. "oh--simon--" you kiss him again, soft, whispering against his lips, "s-so...you're so--"

"mhm," he nods, and you move so your lips are against his ear, giving him a light kiss where his jaw and neck meet.

"i'd say you're too big for me," you sigh, closing your eyes, "but i'm a riley now." you giggle. "'n we can handle anything..can't we, simon?"

"shit--"

you squeak a little when he wraps a hand in your hair and tugs, pressing your pelvis to his as he ruts his hips up against yours. you kiss him hard, slipping your tongue into his mouth, and he chokes on his moans, big arms keeping you pressed to him as he pants into your mouth.

he stills, face a little scrunched up as he sits there with you. you keep kissing him lazily, exploring the way he tastes, licking over his teeth and bottom lip, up until he pushes you just that much away and groans in frustration.

your eyes open, and you giggle, and simon smooths his hands up the bodice of your dress, his eyes blown wide as he takes in how pretty you look in it. pretty little angel in his lap, a nice weight to ground him as he tries not to think about the mess he's made of himself.

"i assume you like the dress?" you ask, and when you laugh, simon can see the red on your tongue from the lolly. he knows if he kisses you again and sucks on your pretty tongue, you'll taste like that awful cherry, taste as sugar-sweet as you really are. simon leans back a little, propping you up on his thighs, shaking his head as he runs a big hand down his solid middle.

"well," simon mutters. "'aven't cum in my fuckin' pants since i was a bloody kid, so i'd say so."

"w-wha--! simon!"

you cover your eyes, overcome with shyness, with warmth, not believing really that anyone could you want that much. that anyone could really want you at all.

but when you laugh, he does, too.

[some-bunniii]

Lucifer breaks your deal with Alastor

・❥ Your soul is owned by Alastor, and Lucifer is not pleased about it.

x: OVER 20k words!? strap in ya’ll, it’s a roller coaster.

xx: reader is g/n. no use of y/n. if you want to read it in chapter-form, you can read it over on my ao3 here.

warnings: adult themes, abuse, angst

‘Alright, deep breaths. You’ve got this. You’ve practiced this so much it’s a cakewalk, so just take it easy. You’ll rock it, like always.’

“Oi! Welcome to the show, ya dirty sinners! Didn’t think ya’d see me all the way up here, did’ja?!”

Screams and cheers echoed from the seats below, as the voice of the King of Greed boomed from the loudspeakers. 

"Well, listen up, ya pitiful souls! I've got a craving for some more cash, so I've decided to bring the whole shebang right here to the heart of sin, Pentagram City!"

The cheering erupted once more, the spotlights danced across the sandy pit underneath the large circus tent. On the perimeter were rows and rows of stands, packed with demons nestled against each other.

It was Mammon’s first circus show in the Pride Ring, a very rare sight to see him leave his cozy little ring in general. But, when a good portion of your fans are sinners who can’t leave without being incinerated, then you have to receive them on their home turf.

In the large pit, two lions jumped obediently through hoops, their handlers shouting commands and cracking their whips to further spur the cat’s maneuvers.

Bright green flame danced around the lion’s faces, resembling that of a large mane. Their eyes were soulless, black pits that glimmered in the bright lights as they continued maneuvers through the tight obstacles.

On the edges of the pit, support poles towered above the crowd. Thin wires snaked across them, anchored to large platforms that hung in the air from the pole’s side.

“As ya can see, we’ve got a big show tah’night! Lots of great fuckin’ acts for ya mongrels to eat up. But, before we get to the juicy bits, direct your eyes up to the ceiling to get a look at our first performance!” 

Hundreds of gazes lifted to sky, the spotlights below beaming upward towards a platform at one end of the tent.

Bright, white lights hit your vision, and you squinted your eyes to prevent them from burning to a crisp from the focused beams.

You stood, your bare feet planted firmly against the platform’s white surface. Before you, a tightrope connected your place to another platform in the distance, beckoning you.

A small hoop hung from the ceiling, encircling a small portion of the wire. The trick was that it was too small for you to stand up straight while walking through it, so you’d need to limbo underneath it.

"As you can see, we've got some sorry sap up there that is about to practically walk on thin air! See that hoop over there? They're fixin' to stroll right through it."

Small ooh’s and ahh’s emanated from the crowd, their eyes darting from you to the hoop.

"But hold your horses, folks! That ain't your run-of-the-mill hoop, no sir! That, my friends, is a hoop on fuckin’ fire!!”

Suddenly, the hoop ignited in a burst of green flames, illuminating the area before you. Gulping, you took another deep breath, steadying yourself.

Okay, well, you knew that was gonna happen. You’ve just never actually practiced with the hoop on fire, but it shouldn’t be too hard.. right?

You nodded to yourself, assuring your racing thoughts that everything was gonna be alright.

The skin-tight suit you were wearing sparkled in the spotlight, dazzling the spectators with a red gleam as you hovered right over the edge of the platform, waving to the crowd. 

You had been performing ever since you could remember, and this was just another part of the job. You weren’t a part of Mammon’s original crew though, only being given the opportunity when they arrived at Pentagram City.

You were a Sinner, which meant being confined to the Pride Ring just like the rest. Fortunately, one of Mammon’s acrobats was too sickly to perform, so when you saw the large poster detailing auditions, you jumped at the opportunity to make some extra bucks.

You had arrived at the settled convoy of vehicles and trailers at the outskirts of the city, you were ecstatic. You hadn’t performed in an actual circus in forever, and the make-shift village of performers and equipment was a fresh sight.

Mammon himself was a… colorful character. He was a hard party rocker with a big ego, and most likely had a swear jar at home overflowing with pennies, with how that guy talked.

You hadn’t really met him when you auditioned, but you could definitely hear him. He was loud, practically demanding everyone’s attention even when he wasn’t addressing them. 

You could hear him yelling about an absent performer, annoyance evident in his voice as he berated an assistant.

"What do ya mean he couldn't make it to practice 'cause he lost his voice? He's a bloody mime, mate! What the hell are we payin’ these blokes for!?"

When you had performed for the recruiters—which you were surprised to find wasn’t Mammon, since the guy seemed to stick his nose in everything—you displayed to them your . A few somersaults, a bit of ariel silk action, and the classic, juggling. 

“How good is your balance?” One of them had questioned, their pen tapping softly against the wooden desk, as they considered your skills.

“Good enough, I suppose.” You replied truthfully.

Long story short, you got the gig. Although, when you heard they wanted you to tightrope under a hoop, that was a little surprising. 

Good thing you weren’t afraid of heights, or this would have been a nightmare.

Backing away from the edge, your gaze rested on the hoop aflame in front of you. After Mammon would finish speaking, you’d begin your act.

"But that ain't the only thing heating up tonight, folks."

Wait, what did he mean by that?

“‘Cause the tightrope… is also on fire!!!” 

What?!

The crowd went berserk hearing that. They whooped and hollered, as their twisted little fantasies came true before their eyes.

“Oh, god damnit, Mammon!” You muttered.

When you told them you had a pretty good pain tolerance, that did not mean resistance to fire!

You sighed, it was a little too late to back out now. Plus, you needed the money. Bouncing on your toes, you attempted to hype yourself up.

Exhaling a large breath, your foot lifted from the stand, and slowly reached out towards the tightrope. 

‘Fuck, this is going to hurt.’ you groaned internally, your toe just inches from the wire. You could feel the heat of the fire as it hungrily licked at your feet. 

Right as you were about to place yourself onto the wire, you felt something tugging at the back of your collar. 

It was deathly cold, and you tried to pull away from its touch, but whatever was holding you had a strong grip. A thick green fog-like substance pooled at your feet, and you looked down in confusion as it began to circle around your figure.

You felt the force on your collar harshly pull you backwards, and your feet lifted from the ground. The smoke became so thick in front of you, it was only the bright lights from the spotlights below that gave you any visual. Suddenly, large eyes began to dot your vision, staring directly at you, into your hollow being.

“What the fu-”

Darkness suddenly covered your vision, and you felt like you were floating in mid-air. Though, you couldn’t tell where exactly in the air you were, other than the fact the surface below you had completely vanished.

You tried to peel your eyes open, but whatever had thrusted you into this chilling realm would not let you get a glimpse of your surroundings. It wasn’t until you felt your feet hit firm ground, and a much less intense light hit your eyelids. You opened them slowly, your mouth still partially open.

“-ckkkk?” You finished, your eyes darting from one side of the mysterious room to the other. It looked strange.. to say the least. It was old, a little run down. It screamed tacky. 

You observed the room again, trying to find anything familiar that could gauge your location.

Were you in a hotel lobby? But, why? How? You’ve never been here before, nor did you know anyone who stayed at such a dump.

“Ah, there you are, my friend! What a pleasure to see you!”

You pivoted sharply to face behind you, and your eyes widened in shock at the familiar face.

Standing before you, a large toothy-grin plastered across his face, was Alastor. The owner of your soul, your eternal boss, the Radio Demon, and the butt end of most of your unfunny jokes—which you would never dare say in front of him.

“You!”

Your finger lifted, pointing accusingly at the tall, red demon. He only tilted his head amusingly at you, that smile only growing wider as you frowned.

“Yes, it is I. I’m glad you remember my face, how are you today?” 

“What do you want?” You grumbled, ignoring his question. You crossed your arms before taking a step back. There were others behind him, but it was Alastor you were focused on as you waited for his response.

“Oh, just some charity work. My new friends over here are in need of some more helping hands, so I took it upon myself to volunteer your services!” 

He motioned to the others behind him, and you glanced at the strangers. One of them was a woman with long, platinum-blonde hair, who smiled awkwardly at you with a wave. 

“That’s great!” You replied sarcastically, throwing your hands up in exasperation, “but couldn’t you wait until after my gig? I was about to make some good money!”

Alastor only sidled up to you, before wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you against his cheek as if you two were best friends. You wanted to recoil from his touch, but you knew you’d get nothing good out of that action. 

“Oh, I am terribly sorry about that, my friend. But, we do have an agreement, as I'm sure you are well aware. Which means, for the time being, you’ll be living here at the hotel!”

Of course you were aware of the “agreement”, the guy had your soul! 

“What hotel?”

“The Hazbin Hotel! What do you think about the name, hm? I came up with it myself!” 

“It’s kind of lame.” 

“Oh-ho! You are such a charm, my dear! I can always count on you to liven up the room with your jokes.”

You sighed, uncrossing your arms and lowering them to your sides in defeat. You were stuck here, with Alastor, until he no longer needed your presence. As always.

“I still would have appreciated a call beforehand or something.” 

“Take my arrival back in the city as the call, my friend. My return was no doubt discussed by many. You knew I’d acquire your assistance at some point.”

Yes, that’s right. Alastor had been gone a good, what, seven years? It was strange, how he had just disappeared without a word or any kind of clue to his location. Where had he gone? Why was he being so secretive about it?

You didn’t miss him, of course. His absence was a mini vacation for you, a break from endless favors that he deemed you worthy to complete. What a joke.

“Now, why don’t we go and introduce you to all these fantastic fellows, hm?” He spoke, a command deep in his static-laced tone.

You turned back towards the small group of demons, who stood a few feet away silently as the two of you bickered. Standing slightly away from the rest, was a familiar furry face. Husker. He was here too? 

Nudging you forward with his cane, you walked up to the onlookers, who regarded you with a mixed expression. The shorter gray lady stood glaring at you with suspicion, her eyes darting between you and Alastor.

Beside her, was that pretty pale-faced demon in the red tuxedo. She smiled broadly at you, her eyes practically gleaming in excitement at seeing the multiple new faces.

“Hello! My name is Charlie, and this is my hotel! I'm so glad to have you aboard!” 

“..Hi, it’s good to meet you too.”

“Let me introduce you to our crew! Over there is my girlfriend, Vaggie!”

She motioned towards the shorter gray woman, and you looked at her more carefully. She had an X across her eye, barely visible with the long hair she situated across half her face. She still eyed you with suspicion, but her demeanor had softened as Charlie spoke to you.

“And, over there is Angel Dust, our first resident of the hotel!”

“How ya doing, Sugar?” Angel winked at you, as he leaned against the bar counter. Husk stood behind the counter, a thin line on his lips.

“I’m sure you’re familiar with Husker and Niffty, right?” 

You nodded, your gaze meeting Husk’s. His eyes softened just a teeny bit, before he let out a hmph and turned away towards the shelves of bottles against the wall.

Your attention turned back to Charlie, as she began filling you in with the details about the hotel and her plans.

She seemed like a sweet girl, passionate and imaginative. When she described her dreams to you, for the hotel, for the entirety of Hell, you listened carefully.

Sinners.. being redeemed? Going to Heaven? That seemed too good to be true. Unbelievable, almost. Sure, some of the demons down here weren’t too bad, but surely none of them were good enough to actually climb to the pearly gates. 

Charlie seemed… different from other dreamers, though, like she could actually get it to work. You couldn’t pinpoint exactly what made you think so. Maybe it was because she was the princess of Hell, and was the second highest on the food chain of this damned place.

You were lucky with how down-to-earth she was, or your bluntness would have probably gotten you smited by now.

In comparison to Charlie, you were a nobody. Well, you were nobody in general. You didn’t own anything of value, not even your soul.

Charlie didn’t act like a princess though. Such as how she spoke to you, and her friends. No command in her tone, no true motives behind layers of smiles and sweetly spoken lies. 

If she was the owner of your soul, maybe life wouldn’t be so bad. She treated everyone fairly, without judgment of who they used to be. Only dreaming of who they could be.

Was the King of Hell the same? How much did Charlie mirror her father, anyway? 

“So.. what can you do?” Charlie broke you from your thoughts, she was turned to you, her gaze meeting yours intently as she waited for you to respond.

“Well, I'm a performer! Mostly aerobatics, but I can dance and other tricks. Oh! I’m also a crowd-pleaser, i’m a really smooth talker.”  

“That’s ssooooo cool! You do that kind of stuff, like, in the circus?”

“Mostly, yes. Any odd jobs I can find looking for my skill set, really. I’m not picky when it comes to money.”

Charlie contemplated your words for a moment, her eyes darting. She’s already got a bartender and a cleaning lady, but where to put you…

“I’m also fantastic at pick-pocketing.” You grinned pridefully at her. It was something you were very good at, and that you had continued to perfect during your time in Hell.

It was also what led you to make that wretched deal with Alastor. 

“Oh.. um, let’s stick with your other skills, hm?” Charlie smiled awkwardly, before she turned her head, and her eyes landed on an empty desk situated near the large entrance doors. 

She perked, her eyes widening in glee as she spun around towards you. 

“That’s it! You can be our new receptionist! You’ll answer calls and greet all our newcomers, and you’ll be in charge of making sure all our guests are well taken care of during their stay.”

Your smile faltered, your gaze resting on the desk behind Charlie before meeting her eyes once more. You chuckled like she had just told you a good joke. Except when your eyes met hers again, she only smiled at you in anticipation.

Wait, was she serious?

“I’m sorry,” you started, lifting your hands up and shaking your head, “but that is not something i’m good at nor-“

“Well I think it’s a splendid idea!” Alastor appeared besides you, his hand resting on your shoulder. His claws dug slightly into your suit, and you whipped your head up, eyeing him with animosity. 

His eyes were squinted, a glare behind that wide grin. ‘Stay in line, or else.’ was his silent command. You scrunched up your nose, ready to argue, but the intellectual part of your brain smacked you upside the head. 

Your shoulders drooped, that frown deepening before you turned to Alastor. You pulled your shoulder from his grip, and looked at Charlie. 

“Fine.”

And, that’s how it was for a time. 

There wasn’t much to do, in all honesty. As the months ticked by, you sat at that desk drowning in boredom. The people at the hotel were lively, but the job? Not so much.

While Alastor was the face, you were the paperwork. Although, he barely acted like it, which meant you took most of the work. 

There were barely any phone calls, any new visitors, anything new at all really. So, you instead filled your days with walking around the hotel, observing the rooms of any renovations that Alastor could make, or you’d write shopping lists for groceries and other miniscule items for the crew, and going out yourself to shop. 

There was that one demon, the snake inventor, that had become a resident during your time working. You had been there, when he attacked Alastor on the hotel’s doorstep. Your mouth agape as you watched him tear a piece of your boss’s suit, waiting for the snake to meet his death.

He didn’t, surprisingly. Instead, he had arrived not too long after apologizing. Which was shocking, and.. eye opening. 

Could Charlie’s dream come true? Alastor spoke of it as if it would turn into nothing but a failure. You had believed him, but now, that doubt was fading from your mind.

Could.. there be a chance for you too? 

You had mentally slapped yourself for that thought. You, redeemed? With no soul, you were trapped here. Only ever being able to watch from the sidelines as those more worthy ascended. 

Thoughts like that only came when you had drank a little too much. Finger mindlessly circling the rim of your wine glass, brow furrowed as you lamented over your poor decisions, you’d sit at the bar in silence late at night.

Nobody bothered you during those times, not even Alastor. No one saw the way your lip began to quiver, the way your vision blurred with tears.

No one noticed the surface of your drink disturbed with a droplet of salty sadness as it mixed with the bitter alcohol. 

‘You don’t deserve to feel sorry for yourself,’ you’d think bitterly, soaked anger spilling down your cheeks, ‘you damned yourself to eternal suffering the moment you shook that demon’s hand.’

Taking the glass, you’d lift it to your lips and empty the rest of the contents. That salty tang still hanging on your tongue when you set the glass back down.

On the worst nights, you’d simply rest your head against the countertop. The cool surface refreshing to your warm cheek, as you curled into yourself, and drifted into a restless sleep.

When you’d wake a few hours later, your blood-shot, tired eyes would open to the sight of a glass of ice-cold water and a migraine pill sitting a few feet away from your face. 

You never saw who catered to your hungover needs, but you had an inkling of a guess.

Lifting your head, you’d blink away the morning fog before sitting up straight with a groan. Slowly, you’d reach out and grab the small capsule and the water, before swallowing both in one large gulp.

Then, it was back to work as always.

Sometimes, you’d actually that phone on your desk would brnnnggg loudly, and you’d leap out of your chair to have a conversation with a fresh new voice. 

“You guys at least provide free Hash, right?” The masculine voice on the other end questioned.

“Sir, this a hotel meant for redemption. Y’know, to Heaven? We don’t have any paraphernalia here.” You grumbled, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration as you listened to the guy.

“Wait.. so you’re saying Heaven doesn’t have joints?”

“I’ve never been up there, obviously. Though I'm sure drugs are a big no-no up there.” 

“Then what the fuck is the point of wanting to go up there?! No weed? No sex toys? Fuck Heaven! Fuck you and your stupid little hotel!” 

“Choke on dick and die!” You snarled, slamming the phone back into place. You leaned back in the chair, fuming silently. The calls never ended well. 

“Good job, you’re really pulling in all those potential residents.” A sarcastic voice piped up near you.

Your head snapped to the bar across the room, your gaze resting on the black and white feline who was busy cleaning glasses on the counter. 

Standing from your spot, you stroll over to the bar, before nestling into one of the bar stools. Placing a hand under your chin, you rested your elbow against the shiny countertop.

“Pour an old friend a drink, won’t you Husk?” You asked sweetly, batting your eyelashes at him. 

His soul was owned by Alastor too, and even if you didn’t know the guy too well, you felt a kinship with him. You both were hollow beings, now.

“We ain’t friends,” the demon grumbled, “I'm just stuck with you and Niffty until I kick the bucket.”

“Okay, Mr. Grumpy-Pants.” You laughed as he reached for your go-to bottle. Same old, adorably-cross Husker. 

He was getting better, though. Happier, even. The night he disappeared to go retrieve Angel Dust, he came back with a bounce in his step. Seemingly more at peace, with whatever happened between the two away from prying eyes.

Once, you swore you heard him humming some old, happy tune while he organized the liquor bottles on the shelf. Husk.. singing? That was something you thought you’d never see.

He had a very good poker face, and half the time you couldn’t tell if the kitty even liked you. He always regarded you like he was behind a closed, see-through door. Getting close to you just enough to see and speak to you, but never enough you could actually reach out and use him for support. Hopefully, he was getting better with that too.

Maybe, with how things were going, he’d let you scratch his chin one day. You always wanted to try it, see if he purred just like they did back on Earth.

“What do you think about the hotel?”  You asked him, as he popped the cap off the bottle with his claw, and began pouring a glass in front of your seat.

“It ain’t too bad,” Husk replied truthfully, “But, it could be better.”

“I agree, I was having a pretty good time out on my own before this. Guess we’ll just have to get used to it, I’m not sure how long Alastor plans to keep us here.”

“You don’t know?” 

You raised an eyebrow at the feline, as you took a sip of your drink. “No, I don’t. Why would you think I do?” 

“Well, I just assumed the two of you would discuss those kind things.”

“You think I talk to Alastor about his deceitful plans with this place?” 

“Why wouldn’t you? I mean, you two are practically the same, with your silver-tongue and all.”

You leaned back, a mixture of surprise and disgust on your face at his words. Husk thought you and Alastor were like, what, best buddies? The demon that owned your soul?

“That’s a fucking lie,” You growled, glaring at him, “I’m not like that douchebag at all. Just because I’m good at talking my way out of tough shit, doesn’t mean I use them to manipulate people into making magical deals that fuck up their entire existence.” 

Using your feet, you pushed your chair back forcefully. It scraped harshly against the wooden floor, as you stood up from the stool. You didn’t even glance at Husk as you sharply turned away, and stomped across the room.

“Thanks for the drink, Asshole.” You called as you turned the corner into a long hallway, towards your room.

You didn’t speak to Husker for a while after that, or go to the bar. Instead, you worked and kept to yourself in your room. It wasn’t until you walked into the lobby one early morning, did you see the feline.

He was standing with the rest of the crew, concern etched across their faces as they circled around a mumbling, erratic Charlie Morningstar. 

“Why isn’t the hotel working?!” You could hear her fume, as she fussed over a large tack board filled with drawings and pictures. 

It wasn’t until about a half an hour later, when Charlie had hung up the phone with her father, did you realize the day was going to get much stranger.

“Alright, guys! My dad is going to be here in one hour, so we have to make this place perfect!” She said, a nervous smile on her lips as she addressed the small crowd.

Everyone tensed, their eyes darting to each other at her words.

Charlie’s dad was coming? Lucifer Morningstar? The King of Hell?!

Suddenly, the room bursted into action. Sir. Pentious slithered to the kitchen, claiming he needed to bake sweets for Lucifer’s arrival. Charlie was practically hyperventilating as Vaggie rubbed her shoulder soothingly. 

“Aw man, I gotta go put on my new perfume!” Angel Dust yelled from the chaos, as he sped away towards his room. Husk continued wiping down the bar countertop, but a little more feverishly now. 

Alastor was the only one seemingly unchanged by the news of the king’s arrival. He only stood there grinning, as the others rushed around him, before beginning to push back his cuticles.

“I’m just going to go… put on some better clothes.” You called, unsure if anyone was even listening as they scrambled about. 

You quickly left the lobby, running to your room to clean yourself up and look presentable. Your mind raced as you did so, recalling all the rumors and gossip you’ve heard over the years.

Was he a cruel king? He couldn’t be, not with how Charlie turned out. But, with her reaction to asking for his help… that was strange. She had never spoken of him before, so it didn’t seem like they were that close.

What was he going to think of you? You’ve never stood before such an important figure, other than Charlie, but that was wayyy different than speaking to the most powerful man in the realm.

You’d just have to make him like you, to avoid any trouble. You needed to charm the King of Hell, just like you’ve done successfully with so many others.

You adjusted your appearance in the mirror, before nodding your head in self-approval. You crossed your room, pulling open the door, and making your way down the stairs. 

When you returned to the lobby, everyone was making last minute preparations. 

Sir. Pentious was busy tidying the cookies on the cooking sheet in front of him. Angel Dust was finishing hanging up the balloons around the room, while Charlie was hyping herself up in the corner.

A large banner with a handwritten message ‘It’s A Boy!’ hung from the ceiling, and you shook your head in embarrassment with a smile.

When you had made it back to the group, there was barely any time to talk before you heard a knock at the front door.

Everyone froze, and Charlie exhaled a large breath of nerves, before crossing the distance towards the door. She pulled it open, and a white hat poked from over her shoulder.

“Charlie!” 

You heard him before you saw him, and he sounded like a burst of sunshine as you watched Charlie get pulled into his bear hug.

She sputtered against his tight grip, before he finally released her. You could see the wide brim hat poking out of her figure, see that silly apple that stuck out from the top of his cane, as they talked for a few more moments.

It wasn’t until Charlie turned to face you and the rest of the crew, did you see Lucifer Morningstar’s face. Your breath hitched, eyes widening as you drank in his figure.

Fuck. He was gorgeous. 

He definitely presented himself like a king, with how he stood with his back straight and head held high. He rested slightly against his cane, his interest piqued at the new faces.

As his gaze swept across the lobby, it briefly landed on you, and your heart fluttered in your chest. God, his eyes were so pretty. They were a soft, muted yellow, like buttercream. 

They held many emotions too, you could see it. There was deep sadness that never left his gaze, as if it followed him like a shadow. It was something you felt followed you too. What was his story? 

Your eyes traced the rest of his appearance, landing next on the golden strands nestled under his hat.

That platinum-blonde hair practically glowed underneath the chandelier lighting, as it curled delicately around his face. It looked so smooth and silky, like the guy had a 10-step hair care routine. It probably smelled amazing too. 

And, those cute little rosy cheek spots on the sides of his mouth, that stood out from his pale skin. If you tilted your head just right, you’d say he looked just like a cockatiel.

But, it was his smile that enraptured you. Not the fake one, that wide, awkward mess across his lips he did as a way to appeal to Charlie.

No, it was instead that warm, genuine grin that lit up his entire face, crinkling the corners of his eyes in a way that made you feel like you were the only person in the room. The smile that only appeared during tender moments, like when his daughter rubbed her cheek against his affectionately. 

You hoped he would start to smile like that more often. 

Charlie had approached your group, introducing Lucifer slowly through your companions. Your heartbeat quickened as they made their way closer to you. 

Taking a deep breath, you clasped your hands together, smiling warmingly at the duo approaching. Charlie stopped, turning to her father as she began to introduce you.

“And thisss is our receptionist! They’re in charge of handling most of our inbound and outbound affairs, and in helping us capture potential residents too!” 

“And I'm doing a fantastic job at that, by the way.” You declared to the two, that smile of yours widening as you edged closer to them. You lifted your arm, extending a hand towards the fallen angel.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness.” 

God, could this dude get any more perfect? The closer he got, the warmer you felt your body temperature become, like he was practically the sun itself.

He regarded it for a moment, before hesitantly taking your grip. His hands were soft, but firm. The gold band on his pinkie grazed across your finger, it was cool to the touch, giving you much needed relief to the growing intensity of the heat of his grasp.

His eyes traveled up yours once more, to your eyes as they flickered between your batting lashes, and to your pretty smile that only grew wider as you leaned forward.

“The pleasure is all mine.” He spoke softly with a grin, as he looked you over. His voice was like silk, and you wanted to wrap it around yourself like a sheet. 

A stark difference to Alastor’s, who gave you a headache listening to that static overlay every time the guy opened his mouth.

“This is your first time here, right?”

“Yes, I'm just here to give my daughter the support she needs for her little project.” Lucifer nodded, glancing over to Charlie as he spoke.

“Well, I hope your opinion of the hotel has improved now that you’ve seen it in person.” 

“Oh, believe me, it has.” He assured, that nervous grin disappearing from his face, and you could see a playful smirk slowly blooming on his lips.

That was before his eyes landed on the bar at the other end of the room, his hand left yours as he turned to face it. You pulled your arm back, clenching your hand as his warmth faded from your skin.

“What in the unholy Hell is that?”

You stood up straight, as he walked closer to the bar. Only for Alastor to appear right behind him, a deadly grin on his lips as he strutted forward.

“Just some renovations we’ve had done, adds a little bit of color! Don’t you think?”

You sighed, your lips twisting into a slight frown as you watched the tension in the room escalate with every word Lucifer and Alastor exchanged. It wasn't until Charlie sidled up beside her father, that the drama got good.

“I guess that’s why they call it the Has-Been Hotel, eh?” Lucifer grinned, nudging Charlie with his elbow.

You snorted, your hand coming up to cusp your mouth at the sudden outburst. His dad joke was just so hilariously stupid—not to mention, it was pointed at Alastor, which was bonus points—you couldn’t contain the noise you made.

All eyes turned to you, and you felt sweat beading at your forehead from all the sudden attention.

Alastor still had that large toothy grin, but his eyes were squinted in a glare as his head snapped uneasily towards you. 

It was Lucifer’s gaze that captured your attention, though. He turned in surprise, as if shocked someone actually laughed at his joke. It wasn’t until he saw that the person that laughed was you, did he seem to slightly puff out his chest, a prideful grin dancing on his lips.

Heat flooded your cheeks as he sent you a mischievous wink, before his attention turned back to Alastor as the demon laughed2.

“Yes, Ha-Ha. It was actually my idea, though.” 

“Ha-Ha, well, it’s not very clever!” 

“A-Ha! Fuck you.”

You had stood to the side, as the two demons bickered and fought for Charlie’s attention. The insecurities of both became increasingly obvious to you as time went on.

Alastor, with his uneasiness that someone of much higher stature and power could take his role in the hotel. And, Lucifer, who’s relationship with his daughter was sour enough that the idea of someone replacing his role as a father caused him to short circuit.

Then, when a short, rotund woman bursted through the front doors, dressed like a flapper and fawning over Alastor, you realized even more how today was looking to be a really strange day.

Mimzy, an old friend of Alastor’s from when they were both swinging through the 20’s and 30’s back on Earth. 

You didn’t know her very well, other than she never stopped talking, and in your opinion, had an ego bigger than Alastor’s. But, you’ve been around long enough to know that whenever she came around, it was only to beg Alastor for help when she fucked up.

Your opinion of her only worsened when the wall a few feet away from you blew open less than ten minutes later. 

The chaos that ensued was even worse, as bullets began ripping through the walls of the hotel. Loan Sharks, snarling Mimzy’s name with venom, threw another explosive towards the building. 

When Alastor had suddenly arrived, shifting into his demonic form, you breathed a sigh of relief as he began to decimate the little army outside.

One of them was falling right above your head, and you tried to scramble away. 

Before it could turn you into a stain on the carpet, it suddenly jerked away, smashing into the closest wall instead. Gold sparks faded from around its wooden frame, and you turned your head to see Lucifer at the other end of the room with Charlie, his eyes trailing your form as you beelined for the opposite wall.

Another explosion rocked the lobby again, and you stumbled on your feet. A table skidded quickly across the floor, heading right for you.

The adrenaline pumping through your veins sent your body into overdrive, and you swiftly lean down, lowering your hands to meet the floor. With a powerful push, you launch yourself into a graceful somersault, your body arching elegantly over the crashing obstacle. Time seems to stretch as you execute the maneuver with precision, feeling the rush of wind against your skin as you spin through the air. Your back barely grazing the table’s surface before you landed into a roll. 

You shoot up from the ground, heart racing, a dumbstruck smile blooming across your lips at the realization you were still in one piece.

You were too preoccupied with Sir. Pentious barreling into your side; that you missed the pale face mirroring your  expression, as he watched you clear the table. 

By the time you untangled yourself from the snake demon, the dust had begun to settle in the room. Alastor had killed—or eaten—most of the Loan Sharks, and was now standing on the front lawn, cleaning bits of meat from underneath his nails.

Husk lifted his head slowly from behind the bar, eyes scanning the perimeter for danger. Mimzy crawled out from under the bar stools, before scurrying outside to speak with Alastor.

“Jesus, is everyone okay?” Angel Dust called, while Charlie was helping dust off stray pieces of rubble from Vaggie’s hair.

“HELPPPP!” Came the loud, mousy squeal from above your head. Eyes lifting to the ceiling, you see Niffty clutching a support beam with her life.

“Niffty? How the fuck did’ya get up there?!” Angel Dust yelled back, arms thrown in the air in exasperation.

It had partially dislodged from the ceiling, hanging loosely by one end. Niffty poked her head out from the side, her large eye darting across the room, as she waited for someone to come to her aid.

Your gaze traveled down from the support beam, your eyes landing on a water pipe, broken and sticking out from a large crack in the wall. It hung just perfectly in between you and Niffty, which would allow you to reach her quickly.

If you could just get a boost… aha! Your gaze lands on the partially torn couch that was scooted a few feet across the room from the explosions. If you leapt off its back, you could swing from the broken water pipe and use it to catapult yourself right next to Niffty. 

Lucifer analyzed the ceiling before turning to his daughter, smirking as he slowly lifted his cane.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got thi-“ 

“Hang on, Niff! I’m coming!” Your voice rang through the room, your footsteps echoing as you ran towards the damaged furniture. 

Taking a large leap, your feet hit the backrest of the couch. The muscles in your legs tense as you lower yourself slightly to vault forward and up, your arms shooting above your head as you close in on the pole.

Your fingers wrap around its chilling, metal surface; and with your palms snug against its frame, you swing forward, arching your body so your feet begin to lift above your head. 

You release the pole, your legs high in the air as you lift yourself up. You feel the wooden beam graze to the back of your knee pit, and you curl your legs around its base, hanging upside down.

Tensing all the muscles in your abdomen, you use the momentum to swing your legs around the beam and your butt hits the top of its base. You blink, your heart pounding in your chest as you exhale a sigh of relief.

Damn, that felt good. This was so much better than rotting at a desk all day, you really missed your old job. 

Niffty shot up next to you, wrapping her little arms around your forearm in glee.

“You came to rescue me, you’re my hero!” 

“Yeah, yeah. Just hang on, little lady.” 

You pulled her close, before getting to your feet. You lean over the edge, the only thing catching your eyes that you could use was that water pipe.

Okay, you’ve done a bit of parkour before. Piece of cake. 

You knelt slightly, before leaping from the beam. You stuck on foot out in front of you, and you felt your sole hit the top of the pipe. It was like taking a large step, as you swung your other leg forward and launched yourself with the other. 

Curling your legs, you practically cannonball into the couch. The large, plush cushions swallowed you for a moment, before spitting you back onto your feet in front of it.  

“Holy shit, ya didn’t die!” Angel Dust exhaled a sigh of relief, walking up to you. Niffty fussed in your hold, and you gently lowered her to the ground.

Niffty ran to Angel, who kneeled down to fuss over her for any injuries. You turned from the duo, before you caught sight of another figure coming forward.

“You’re an acrobat, aren’t you?” Lucifer said, a hint of astonishment in his tone as he strolled up to you, his eyes gleaming with interest.

“Yes, well, mostly. But I can do a lot of other things too.” You nodded, smiling bashfully at his facial expression.

“Wow! I mean, heh—boy, I haven’t seen anyone do that perfect of a maneuver in a long time. You looked like a ballerina up there with how strict your form was when you were swinging.”

Did Lucifer just.. compliment you? He knew about aerobics enough to make that kind of judgment on you? Man, this guy just kept getting better and better.

It should have been obvious, though. His silly red-and-white attire had struck you as familiar when you first saw him, and now you realized it was similar to the getup of a Ringmaster.

“Thank you, I've been practicing since I was young. I’ve even done a few circus acts before, and it’s always such a thrill. I'd do it over and over again without getting tired.”

“I think that’s called being an adrenaline junkie.” Lucifer teased, a playful smile on his lips. “But, really, that was good. Impressive, even.”

“Not as impressive as saving me from getting crushed by the ceiling.” 

Lucifer’s eyes widened just a tad, and he nervously adjusted his long collar, his smile turning bashful now.

“Oh, you.. you saw that?”

You nodded, “Yes, I did. Thank you. Also, your magic is just so pretty, they’re like little golden fireworks!”

Before Lucifer could speak, you leaned in closer to him. Your ear just barely grazing the brim of his hat as you smiled.

“And, I just wanted to let you know, I agree with you about the hotel name,” you inched closer to his face, your voice lowering as you spoke with a honeyed tone, “I have no doubt you would come up with a better name, Your Highness.” 

Lucifer tensed, and you thought you could see those red spots on his cheek darkening just a shade. 

He lowered his head slightly after that, his face mostly obscured by the brim of his hat. You couldn’t see what he was doing, but, was that an edge of a smile on his lips?

After a second, Lucifer cleared his throat, before lifting his head again.

“I’m glad we share the same appreciation for aesthetics. It’s been a pleasure speaking with you.” 

“Hey, Dad? Can I, um, speak to you? About the hotel?” Charlie spoke, approaching. A firm look on her face, as if it was rather important.

“Of course, I’ll be right there,” Lucifer nodded, before turning back to you, “Again, a pleasure to meet you. I hope we get to talk again.” 

Then, he did something you never expected, he curtsied. Your eyes widened, the King, showing you such a gesture of respect? All for what, doing a few tricks in the air?

Heat creeped onto your cheeks after that, and you watched him turn away, following after his daughter. Leaving you to stew about your encounter with Lucifer for the rest of the day.

Well, your thoughts on the King of Hell definitely stayed when you awoke the next morning, and the morning after that. 

Your thoughts were still there in that lobby as you sat at your desk one afternoon, your hands organizing a large stack of papers. They had a picture of the Hazbin Hotel on them, along with words that basically screamed ‘Come check us out!’

The plan was to distribute the posters around the city.  Buildings, poles, doorways, anything that could hold a staple was your target. 

You were fiddling around in your drawer, searching for extra staples when you heard it. A gentle rapping against the front doors, which made you lift your head.

There was no one else in the lobby, not even Husk. Slowly, you walked towards the doors, and the silhouette of a hat stuck out from the bottom of the stained glass.

Is that..?

Reaching to the handle, you pull it open, and met the familiar soft, yellow gaze. His lips curved into a smile at your appearance, and he lifted his hand in greeting.

“Oh! Hello, again!” 

Fuck, he was still gorgeous. Definitely an Angel, no doubt about that. His pearlescent skin practically glittered in the red hues of the afternoon light behind him, and you averted your gaze for a moment, trying not to be blinded by his ethereal beauty.

“Your highness? I’m—ahem, well, sorry. I’m just surprised to see you back so soon. What are you doing here?”

“I'm here to see Charlie, of course!” He exclaimed, strolling right past you into the lobby. His eyes scanned the room, resting for a moment disapprovingly on the bar, before landing on the large desk. 

“Is this where you work?” He motioned towards its wooden frame, you sidled up to him, before nodding.

“Yep. Hardly move from there during the day.”

“You sit there all day? Yeesh, that’s terrible.” 

“Mhm. Pretty boring, actually.”

“Well, if you ever want a better career, I’m sure I could find you a job at LuLu World, I’ve got a circus that runs year round there.”

LuLu World? The theme park he owned? You had never been there before, but it always sounded amazing. And, he thought you’d be a great fit there too. He couldn’t have been that impressed by a few of your maneuvers. Maybe, he just needed to go to an actual circus and see the real performers.

“I’d love to, but I'm kind of stuck here.”

“Why?” Lucifer turned to you, an eyebrow raised. 

“Well, um—” 

‘My soul is owned by the demon you have beef with, and I can’t exactly leave without his permission. I also can’t tell you this because I apparently signed an NDA too.’

“—I just want to help people! So, I made a promise that I wouldn’t leave until I made a difference. Y’know, really make an effort to improve this wonderful community!” You responded with fake cheer, clasping your hands together.

Lucifer regarded you for a moment, his fingers fidgeting against the apple on his cane as he thought.

“Oh.. well, that’s generous of you. But, someone with your skill set doesn’t deserve to rot away in a place like this, I’m sure you’d make a difference somewhere more relevant.”

“Are you trying to get rid of me, Your Highness?” You teased, your nails grazing against the desk as you walked past him, before pivoting to face him.

“What? No! Of course not, just—forget I said anything.”  He chuckled nervously, before fussing with his long collar. He seemed to do that often when

Aw, he got all flustered when he thought you were serious. Who knew the embodiment of Pride had such bad self esteem.

“Charlie went out to run some errands, but she should be on her way back, actually. Can I get you anything to drink while you wait?”

“Chamomile Tea, if you have it?”

You nodded, before walking towards the small counter behind your desk. There was a coffee machine, a toaster, and a large, electric kettle. You placed the kettle underneath the small sink, filling it up, before switching it on and setting it down. 

It would take a little time for the water to heat, so you returned to where your visitor awaited.

Lucifer leaned against your desk slightly, his fingers mindlessly tapping at his cane, his eyes staring at the wall. There he goes again, lost in his thoughts. Which he seemed to do quite often.

Would it be rude to wake him from his stupor? You had only just met him, so maybe, don’t push your luck.

You turned your attention back onto the stack of posters, flicking through each one as you counted. You heard Lucifer shuffle beside you, before clearing his throat. 

“What are you doing?”

“Posters for the hotel. I’m going to put them up around the city later today.” You held one out to him, and he took it from your grasp. His fingers grazed yours, and you could feel the warmth seeping into your skin from just that small touch.

When he pulled his hand away, that warmth left you, and you felt that never-ending chill seep back into your bones again. It was something that followed you since you made that deal with Alastor. As if your soul was the sun, and you just got shoved down a long, dark well. 

You could only claw at the edges for so long, letting the blood from your nails drip into the standing water at your feet, before you gave up trying. You’ve been sitting in that well for a long time, allowing time to pass by.

But, for some reason, since you arrived at the hotel, you’ve begun to start digging at the cracks of that well again. Maybe, if you got your claws in deep enough, you’d find that beam of sunlight.

“Hm, the drawings seems.. a little off. Did you do this?” Lucifer dragged you out of your thoughts, as he looked at you expectantly. 

Shaking your head, you chuckled softly. “No, unfortunately, stick figures are my only language in the arts. I think Charlie drew it.”

“Did I say this drawing was off? I lied! Ha-ha, yeah, this is great work.” Lucifer quickly replied, brushing off his earlier comment.

You were going to open your mouth to respond, before you heard the loud whistling of the kettle. You turned, watching the steam pour out of its lid, and quickly ran to fetch it.

You pulled a small tea cup from its stand on the edge of the counter, before filling it full with the water from the kettle.

Reaching towards a small cupboard, your fingers sorted through the different herbal flavors as you looked for one in particular. When your eyes finally caught the light green packaging, you pulled it out.

“Hey, this might seem like an odd question, but do you like caramel?” Lucifer asked from behind you. You turned your head slightly, taking a glance at him. His nails clicked against his cane, fast and nervous as he waited.

“Yes, I do. It’s not my favorite sweet treat, but I've definitely indulged in it a few times.”

Taking a few moments as you spoke, you ripped open the package. Holding the small string in between your thumb and your index finger, you carefully placed the tea bag into the steaming water. 

“Great! I was wondering, well, I mean—you see, I made some caramel apples for Charlie. Except, she hasn’t had one of mine since she was a girl, so I just wanted someone to take a test bite before I presented it to heel

Slowly, you could see the color begin to change as the herbal goodness was dispersed in the cup. You turned to him slowly, eyebrows raised as you regarded him.

“You want me to.. try one of your apples?”

“Yes! That would be great, just to know I still got the gourmet chef in me.” He smiled, lifting up a finger right above his lips, and swirling it in the air. As if twirling a long mustache.

“Your tea, Your Majesty.” You chuckled, bending your head slightly, placing it down on the desk in front of him. When you lifted your head, you were greeted with the sight of a large, light-brown coated apple. 

“It’s not poisoned I promise.” He teased, a lopsided grin on his face as he held the treat out to you, his fingers clasped around the kabob-like stick poking out of the bottom.

Carefully, you lifted your arm, plucking the caramel apple away from his grip. When you had it between your fingers, Lucifer reached down to take the tea cup from the desk, before swirling the mix around slightly. He blew at its surface, and the liquid rippled as steam still rose from it.

He gingerly lifted it to his lips, his pinky lifting away from the handle as he did so. His eyes softened as the herbal flavoring hit his tongue, and his body seemed to relax as warmth bloomed under his skin and the drink traveled down his throat.

‘He drinks with his pinky out? That’s so cute.’ You gushed silently, never did you think the King of Hell would practice such mannerisms. But, in all honesty, he didn’t seem like he should be in Hell at all. Guess that’s what happens, when the highest powers known to man punish you for being you.

His eyes never left you as he drank, as he waited for you to take a bite. You turned the treat in your grip, inspecting it a final time. Carefully, you lifted it to your face, and took a bite of its side.

Lucifer seemed to grimace as your mouth closed against the large chunk of apple. You chewed for a moment, letting your taste buds do the work. Then, your brain short-circuited at the sensations, and your eyes lit up.

“Woa-hu-ho! This is fantastic!” You beamed, and Lucifer’s eyes widened in a look of surprise.

“Really..?”

“Yes! It’s actually really good! I think Charlie is going to love it!” You nodded briskly, taking another bite of delicacy.

“Ha, well. Guess I still got it in me after all this time.” He boasted, chest puffing just slightly at your compliments.

You obliterated that apple in front of him, taking barely a moment to breathe as you scarfed it down. God, his cooking was actually really good. What else could he make?

Lucifer only watched you, a faint smile on his lips as he watched you devour the treat. As if he was fascinated by your sudden primal hunger. 

Your eyes met his and you stopped suddenly, covering your mouth as you continued to chew. Heat flooding your cheeks in embarrassment.

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty, this is pretty rude of me..”

“No! Not at all, if I had more I'd surely give it to you,” he laughed, setting his almost-empty drink back onto the desk, “and please, call me Lucifer. There’s no need to use such titles in a private setting like this.”

Right as he spoke, the front entrance doors burst open, and Charlie and Vaggie strolled in chattering loudly. They held a few shopping bags in their hands, as they entered the lobby.

Right, so much for privacy. Couldn’t you get five more minutes with the #1 bachelor in the realm?

“Oh, Dad!” Charlie exclaimed, surprise etched on her face at seeing Lucifer standing beside you.

“Charlie!” He beamed, strolling over to her. He encompassed her into another of his signature bear hugs, and she sputtered for breath in his hold.

“Wha—gasp—what are you doing here?”

“I just came by to visit, also to take another peek at some renovations that really need to be done. Among other things.”

“Oh, okay! Let me drop this stuff off by Angel Dust, and we can do that.” Charlie smiled at her father, before turning and crossing the room to another hallway.

Lucifer watched her leave, before turning to you, his eyebrows raised as he spoke, “I assume you’ll still be sitting here the next time I stop by?” 

He wanted to see you again? Your brain couldn’t process that thought when the words left his lips.

“As always.” You smiled warmly at him, as you cleaned up the now-empty cup from the desk. You didn’t say ‘Your Majesty’ this time, but you weren’t sure whether calling your king by his real name was appropriate. At least, not yet.

“Good.” He nodded approvingly, before his back faced you and he walked out of the lobby. Your gaze lingered on the corner he had turned out of view from, before you sighed and returned to work. 

You didn’t notice those sickly red eyes watching you intensely from the shaded corner of the room, as you took a seat back at your desk. 

Days like that continued, where you’d be greeted by the soft knocking against the entrance door. And, when you opened it, you’d meet the handsome, smiling face of Lucifer.

“Good morning, I hope you’re hungry!” He’d state as he strolled past you, always stopping right next to your desk first when he came.

You made sure to save your stomach for the delicacy he always carried with him now. Usually, he’d bring two, one for Charlie, and one for you. 

“I need to make sure she’ll like this one too.” He had explained. You were apparently his official taste tester now, but you never complained.

He’d hold the treat out to you, one eyebrow raised playfully, as he presented the caramel apple like a rose.

“Now with sprinkles!” He’d exclaim as you’d gingerly take it from his grip, your fingers brushing against his. The warmth a welcome feeling to your skin.

You’d sit there, feasting on the apple in your seat as he leaned against the desk. He was very chatty, even when he still held reservations around people in general. It never bothered you, of course. It stopped you from getting so bored while you worked.

“Don’t even get me started on Mammon,” Lucifer groaned, as you told him about your most recent circus acts, “the guy will do anything to put more money in his pocket. Y’know, he thinks we’re best buddies or something, thinks that lets him plagiarize my amusement park.”

“Why don’t you tell him to shut it down?”

“Because it brings in more business,” Lucifer had shrugged, “People go there, expecting a good show, and don’t find one. So, they go to my LuLu World, and bam, they never want to leave!”

You chuckled at the name, ‘LuLu’. Yep, you were definitely speaking to the Sin of Pride, alright.

“What’s so funny?” He had asked, curious at your reaction. You straightened yourself, a lop-sided smile on your lips when you realized he caught your laugh.

“Nothing it’s just.. ‘LuLu World’? There had to be something better you could have called it.”

Lucifer gasped, placing a hand on his heart, feigning hurt. “Woah, woah. First, you say I'm good with names, and now you’re laughing at them? Dirty.” 

“Oh, I'm so sorry. Please, good sir, don’t smite me!” You mocked a pain expression, clasping your hands together in a gesture of begging.

“I will allow you to live for now. Can’t have the hotel going into shambles because you’re not here to keep it running.” Lucifer’s voice deepened as he fixed his posture into a much more royal stance. As if he was speaking to a lowly squire in court.

‘I barely do anything around here, but thanks for the confidence boost.’ you’d answer silently, as you leaned back in your chair, watching his antics with amusement.

You began to anticipate his arrival with excitement. Even pouring his tea beforehand, so when he walked through those doors, you’d place a steaming cup into his palms. You always enjoyed the way his eyes softened when he took his first sip.

Hell, you enjoyed.. everything about him. His smile, his jokes, the care he had for his daughter, even if he had a hard time showing it. He made you smile, which was something you haven’t done willingly in a long time. 

And, his smile? That real, true look of happiness that blossomed on his face? That slowly began to return as well. 

For a few months, everything was dandy. Until, one evening, when Alastor summoned you to his room.

He never did that, and that made you nervous.

You stood at the closed door to his room, your heart pounding in your chest. What did he want? Did you do something wrong? Your thoughts just couldn’t still as you fidgeted nervously.

Slowly, you lifted your knuckles to the door. Before you could even graze the wooden surface, the door swung open. It creaked loudly as it did so, and your breath hitched as you began to glimpse inside.

You poked your head in, your eyes scanning across the room. The decorations were so outdated, it almost made you gag. Skeletons of an alligator hung on the wall, its eyes glowing from the string of lights wrapped around its figure.

A large shelf of books, mostly for cooking, stood out against a small wooden table. A small radio sat snug on the desk, playing a gentle jazz tune. On the opposite side of the room, was where that freaky abyss lay. You had never stepped foot there, the part of the room that simply seemed to dissolve into a dark, swampy land. 

Then, you heard humming. Staticy, soft humming, coming from the left side of the room.

Alastor stood over a bloody cutting board, a large kitchen knife in his hand. He wore an apron that was spattered with blood, his usual overcoat was gone, replaced by a dark red tuxedo underneath and a—surprisingly—clean white dress shirt.

He hummed along in sync with the music wafting from the speaker, as he continued to slice along the large slab of meat on the counter. You couldn’t dare think what the flesh used to be as you slipped through the crack, shutting the door softly behind you.

It didn’t seem like he knew you were standing there awkwardly by the door, but you knew he did. How long was he going to have you wait?

Clearing your throat, you spoke softly, “you wanted to see me, Alastor?”

“Ah, hello there, my friend!” He pivoted sharply, his tone chipper as he smiled at you. The knife was still in his grip, and he swirled it in the air playfully. “How are you doing on this fine, hellish evening?”

“Fine..”

“Wonderful! I called you here today because there is something I’ve wanted to discuss with you for some time. You see, I've taken notice that you and our ever-so charming King of Hell have been growing closer these past few months.”

This is what he wanted to talk about? You fought to not roll your eyes at that. 

“Let me guess, you want me to stop talking to him?”

Alastor giggled at that, a maniacal fit of he-he’s as he forcefully stabbed the knife into the slab of flesh. It stuck out like a grim warning, as he brushed his hands against his apron before removing it entirely. 

“On the contrary,” he spoke as he hung the apron against a dining chair, “I want you to get closer to him.”

You blinked, leaning your head back slightly as you processed his words.

“Wait, what?”

Alastor nodded, confirming that you didn’t just hallucinate that. He slowly walked forward, before placing a hand on your shoulder as he moved behind you.

“You see, I believe it’s in both our best interests to forge a deeper connection with our illustrious King. There are certain… opportunities that may arise from such a relationship.”

“Opportunities? What kind of opportunities are we talking about here?”

“Ah, now that would be telling, wouldn’t it? Let’s just say that there are benefits to being in the King’s inner circle. Power, influence, the chance to shape Hell itself… But I’ve said too much already. Just trust me on this one, my dear.”

Trust Alastor? Ha! That was the first joke he’s ever spoken to you that was actually funny. 

Your thoughts raced as he appeared on your other side, his claw grazing across the back of your neck as he rested his hand on your shoulder once more. 

He wanted you to what, fake your attraction to Lucifer? Wanted you to lie and manipulate him so he’d bend to your will, and carry out Alastor’s evil deeds in the guise of caring for you?

“What makes you think he’d even fall for that? He’s an angel, he’s not stupid.”

Alastor chuckled, patting your shoulder as his grin widened. “Haven’t you noticed the change in his demeanor? The little.. pep in his step? Ever since he met you that first day, he’s only grown more attached to you.”

Was that true? Sure, Lucifer seemed to be getting better, slowly. Seemed to smile more genuine as time went on. But, that couldn’t be because of you! He was reconnecting with his daughter, of course he’d be happier at the hotel.

It didn't matter, in the end. You weren’t going to do that to Lucifer. You weren’t going to ruin the one relationship that was built by trust. The question is, could you resist Alastor?

“What if I don’t want to?” You finally ground out, your firsts clenching at your sides.

Suddenly, you felt a chill around your neck, and you gasped at the sensation. You lifted one hand up, to try and feel whatever was clenching at your throat.

Your fingers wrapped around a green, metal collar that seemed to tighten as the seconds ticked by. Energy sizzled against your fingertips, like static. Eyes widening, you ripped your hand away, your feet moving on instinct to get away from him.

Your back hit the wall roughly, your heart practically beating out of your chest as you watched Alastor slowly stalk towards you. His eyes began to shift, resembling that of radio dials. Those small antlers on his head began to rapidly branch out, growing longer every step he took.

“What if you don’t want to? My, what a foolish question.”

He was just inches from your face, that toothy smile practically ear to ear as he leaned in. Lifting a hand, his claws grazed your collar bone, before traveling up towards the glowing green clasp.

A single claw hooked underneath the metal surface, pushing roughly against your throat as he tugged you harshly forward by it. 

His breath hit your face, and you scrunch your nose from the foul odor. He reeked of death.

“It seems you have forgotten who owns your soul, my dear.” He whispered in your ear. You squeezed your eyes shut, your lip quivering as he spoke.

“If you try to resist, try to fight against your chains. I’ll make sure my radio broadcast is filled with nothing but your dying screams.”

Tears pricked at your eyes, the collar only becoming colder as you writhed slightly against his touch.

“I-I’m sorr-“

“You sold your soul to me, don’t forget. If there is anyone to blame for your misfortune, it is you alone.” Alastor hissed, thrusting you even closer to him by your collar. You felt his smile crease brush against your skin, and you shivered.

You were becoming increasingly aware how sickly-yellow his teeth were, compared to Lucifer’s. Disgust began to boil in your belly as you opened your mouth.

“I’ll do it!” You whimpered, your heart pounding, “I’ll do it..”

“Wonderful.” He drawled, before leaning away from you. His claw released your collar, and it dissolved in green fog. You coughed, rubbing your neck, as Alastor took your shoulder and roughly nudged you to the door. 

It opened on its own, and you were pushed through the threshold. 

“I’m glad we could have this little chat,” Alastor’s chipper tone returned, as you stared at him with disgust, “Have a hellish rest of your day, my friend!”

The door slammed shut as he disappeared back into his room. Leaving a rush of angry tears to pool at your feet alone.

Two weeks had passed, since Alastor told you to tug the heartstrings of the King of Hell, to play him right into your fraud-loving palms. Oh, the universe must surely hate you.

You had begun to avoid Lucifer, though. Whenever he was around, catching you at work, you’d continue your silly little chats. You began to memorize the timeframe he’d show up to the hotel, and make some kind of excuse to not be there when he knocked. Either you were out shopping for supplies, or seeing the latest movie. Anything you could think of, you’d leave and force Husker to greet Lucifer.

The guilt of knowing what would happen if Lucifer fell in love with you? It ate you up inside. You hardly slept lately, tossing and turning with terrible nightmares of drowning in that cold, dark, bottomless well. The chains tied to your feet, preventing your escape to the surface.

Would anyone care if you just let yourself sink to the bottom? 

Those thoughts were still on your mind as you did your morning jumping jacks.

You had asked Charlie to use one of her empty storage rooms as a place to practice your acrobatics, which you had started doing every night now. It was any easy escape from your troubles, on the farthest side of the hotel from the lobby, where no one could bother you.

It was a large room, with ceiling-high windows that lit the room with a light red hue. You had convinced Alastor to give you a makeshift gym as a part of your “deal”. If you were going to be forced to be the bad guy, he could at least give you a place to kick ass.

There were multiple gymnastic bars set up at different heights, two balance beams, and a small-scale tightrope. The tightrope was a thick wire connected between two poles across one side of the room, roughly the size of your torso. There was a platform attached to each pole, allowing good foot room on each side of the wire.

Tonight, you were practicing walking on your hands across the balance beam. Sweat dripped from your forehead, and you watched it land onto the leathery cover of the beam beneath you. 

You had made it halfway across, when you heard the door to the room open softly. 

“I didn’t even know there were rooms back here!” An astonished, familiar voice came from the doorway. 

What was Lucifer doing here?!

Your brain short-circuited, and your arms began to wobble beneath you. You lost your balance, and  immediately tumbled off the balance beam with a breathless “Fuck!”

Your side hit the mats below, pain bloomed from your shoulder as you lay there in defeat. You heard a high pitched yelp from behind you, and the sounds of feet pattering against the floor neared.

“You’re not dead, are you?” Lucifer laughed nervously as he kneeled beside you. He reached a hand down to your face, before he hesitated, and instead lifted his cane.

You felt soft poking against your cheek, as he prodded you with the black stick. 

“Stop that.” You grumbled into the mat, stirring slightly from the floor.

“Oh, you’re not dead! What a relief.” He said, exhaling a breath he had been holding. “I’m terribly sorry about that! I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You groaned, before lifting yourself up from the mat. You got to your feet, rubbing your shoulder tenderly.

“It’s fine, I’m fine. What are you doing here, though?” 

Lucifer processed your question for a moment, before he suddenly straightened himself up. Head held high, he strutted over to you, before halting. He glanced at you, before he began fussing with his bow-tie nonchalantly.

“Well, I came to find you.” 

“Why?” 

“Because, I wanted to speak with you. And, you’re conveniently always out of the room when I want to do that.”

Shit. Did he notice you were avoiding him? You didn’t think it was that obvious.

Lucifer watched you intensely, analyzing your reaction to his accusatory statement. He had a firm line on his lips, as if your actions didn’t bother him. 

“I’m not avoiding you.” 

“Oh, really?”

“I came here to improve my aerobatics, before you rudely interrupted me.”

“Right, like you need to improve.”

You turned to him, an eyebrow raised. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You’re already good at it, there’s no reason for you to come here every day.”

He turned his head to face you as he spoke, and your eyes caught sight of something wiggling slightly on the top of his head. Is that apple decoration not fully attached to his hat?

Suddenly, you had an idea. A playful smile began to bloom on your lips, as you slowly made your way towards him. 

“Actually, that’s not true. I’m not that good at tightrope walking, I’ve told you that before.”

Right before he turned his head so he could trace your movements, you shot your arm above his hat, your fingers pinching around the small apple stem.

You sharply pivoted, facing him now as you walked backwards towards the tightrope platform. The apple hung behind your back, as you kept his gaze. 

“Buuut, I think I’m much better at it than you.”

“Excuse me?”

You turned to face the platform, moving your arm fluidly and taking the stem between your teeth, before lifting yourself on the white surface. 

Gripping the apple once more, you turn to him slowly, watching his eyes widen as you swing the apple between your fingers for his viewing pleasure.

“Actually, I think I'm better at this whole circus bizz than you. Look! I’m a magician even, would you like to see another trick, Your Majesty?” 

Lucifer stood there in shock, for a few moments. His red pupils darted from the swiped apple to you, before they dilated slightly. Then, he laughed, an audible ‘Ha ha!’ at your words. 

“You think you’re better at the circus than me?” Lucifer asked slowly, a mixture of disbelief and teasing in his tone.

“Without a doubt!” You called, turning to face the wire. Not giving him a second glance, a smug smile formed on your lips.

Lucifer regarded you a moment, before a mischievous grin played on his face. “Well, let’s prove it then.” 

He lifted his cane, before tapping it against the ground twice. Suddenly, you found the platform vibrating underneath your feet. Then, it began to move. You stumbled, and then fell to your knees, gripping the edges as you squeezed your eyes shut.

What the hell was happening?!

The support pole began to rise up, and up, and up, until it barely grazed against the ceiling. Slowly, you opened one eyelid, and then the other. You were still safe, clutching to the platform. The tightrope was still holding, connected to the pole across the room. 

You exhaled a side of relief, before crawling over to the edge. Your eyebrows flew up in surprise as you judged the distance to the ground, you were roughly three stories in the air!

Did.. Lucifer do that? He took “prove it” to a whole new level with this one. 

You got back onto your feet, the apple still in your palm as you placed your other hand against the support beam. Now, where was Lucifer? Did he stick you up here to starve to death?

“Hey.”

You jumped, reeling back from the voice, right towards the edge of the platform.

“Woah—hang on there now!” Lucifer quickly reached out and wrapped his fingers around your wrists, tugging you back to the center of the stand. You blinked, slowing your heart beat, as you stared in surprise.

“Lucifer? How did you get up here?”

“I can fly, remember?” 

That’s right, he did have wings. You just didn’t think he was that fast with them. Lucifer had also completely ditched his hat and overcoat, instead he was in his red and white dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up to partially expose his forearms. 

His hair was slightly disheveled, no doubt from the flight up here. It wasn’t as slicked back as before, small strands of hair sticking out messily. You thought that was adorable.

Lucifer looked down, before smiling sheepishly and withdrawing his hand from your wrist. He brushed his fingers down your hand, his nails gently grazing against your palms.

This time, you didn’t feel the cool sensation from his gold ring against your skin, as his pinky lifted from your hand.

“Now, are you going to walk across that wire, or are you going to just give me back my apple?”

You met his eyes, his gaze playful as he smirked at you. He took a step closer, and you took a step back. Slowly, your heel hit the wire, and you halted. 

Lucifer watched you expectantly, waiting for you to make a move. He probably assumed you’d turn around to cross the wire, and he’d nab the apple from behind your back.

Too bad for the King of Hell, you could walk on a tightrope backwards. You winked at him, as your feet moved fully onto the wire. You pivoted slightly every so often, your body fluidly leaning back and forth as you adjusted for balance.

Lucifer watched you, admiration in his eyes as you maneuvered your way down the tightrope. You pulled the apple from behind you, teasing it in front of his view.

“The big question is, how do you think you’re going to best me in those heels, Your Majesty?” 

Lucifer glanced down at his knee-high boots, before slowly peeling them off his feet. He placed them neatly to the side, before moving a foot to the wire.

He began to put his weight onto the tightrope, wobbling a little as he adjusted for balance. He definitely did not do this often, and you laughed softly at his failing posture.

Lucifer huffed, glancing at you, who was still moving a reasonable distance away from him. Then, a smirk played on his lips, and you saw forms begin to appear against his back. 

The red feathers of his wing’s underbelly began to glimmer in the light from the large windows behind you, as he slowly opened them to full length.

Six ethereal, majestic wings flapped gracefully behind him. They began to pivot slightly, adjusting for Lucifer’s balance much quicker and with ease.

“That is so dirty!” You laughed at him, shaking your head disapprovingly.

“Looks like I'm going to getcha!” He teased, as he began to take much more confident steps across the wire; his wings flapping softly, boosting his speed.

You took bigger, riskier steps as you closed in on the other platform. Your heartbeat racing from the challenge, adrenaline beginning to pump in your veins.

“What happens if I eat this apple?” You asked, holding up the apple to your nose, before taking a deep sniff. Licking your lips playfully, you glanced back up to Lucifer.

“A tummy ache, I'm afraid. But, hey, I'll trade you a caramel apple for that one.”

Your stomach grumbled at that, and you genuinely licked your lips at his words.

“I might consider that proposition, if you can catch up to me that is.”

You spun on your heel, facing the base of the pole, as you began to increase your pace.

It wasn’t until you felt the wire jerk under your feet, did you begin to wobble. With a hitched breath, you try to regain your balance, but to no avail.

Your foot slips, and you feel your body beginning to lean off too far to the side. Gasping in surprise, you flail your arms hoping to catch anything in your grip to stop your fall.

Right as you begin to free fall, you feel strong arms snake around yours and grip you firmly. 

“Hang on, I got you!” Lucifer practically spoke in your ear as he pulled you forward, back up onto the wire. You breathe heavily, clutching his forearms tightly as you lean in closer, catching your breath.

Large wings flapping stronger now, Lucifer held you close as you both balanced along the same small portion of the tightrope. You felt his hot breath on your face, and realized how close the two of you actually were.

Your chest was practically against his cute little bow-tie, your legs brushing against each other as you balanced on the tiny surface. The steady wing beats of the fallen angel sent wind softly grazing past your ears, cooling the heat that was beginning to creep onto your cheeks.

He was so close, and so fucking gorgeous. Forget what Alastor wanted to do, what you wanted to do was kiss this man silly. For months, you both danced at the edge of each other's hearts. Gifts of affection, words of compassion, the whole shebang. 

Yet, you’ve never looked the King in the eye and told him ‘I want you.’

Was it because you were stubbornly fighting against Alastor’s demands, that you even ignored your own true feelings? Just to spite the powerful cannibal?

Couldn’t you just look at a sexy man in peace, without anyone else watching your every move?

“Are you alright?” Lucifer asked after a moment, pulling you from your ogling.

“You saved me..” You finally breathed, eyes wide and you met his soft gaze.

“Of course I did, why wouldn’t I—”

Lucifer’s words caught in his mouth as you pressed your lips to his. He froze at the touch initially, but it only took a moment for his entire body to soften against yours. 

His hands found his way to your waist, and he pulled you flush against his body. Your fingers reached up, and you began to caress the sides of his face, twirling a few pieces of hair between your pinkies as you deepened the kiss.

The warmth that bloomed from his touch was intoxicating, your entire being craving for more as you leaned even farther into his embrace. 

His hands moved from your waist, until they brushed underneath your shirt. His palms coming up to cup the small of your back as he pressed you closer to him, as if worried you might dissipate into the air and leave him forever.

It was a good thing he had six wings to keep the two of you afloat, or else you would have been a splatter on the mats by now.

You felt Lucifer's teeth graze against your lip, and you had to fight to not bite his lip back. After a few more moments, you pulled away from his face, your breath coming out ragged as you gave him some distance. 

Lucifer blinked a few times, his eyebrows beginning to raise slowly as a dopey smile danced onto his lips.

“I really enjoyed that, but we should probably get on solid ground, don't you think?” He laughed breathlessly, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he looked at you adoringly.

You reached up, brushing the few loose strands out of his eyes, before nodding. “That is a good idea.” 

“Well, just hang on.” Lucifer replied with a mischievous grin, and you opened your mouth to question him. Before you could get a word out, you felt him begin to lean backwards, pulling you along with him. 

You yelped and squeezed your eyes shut, as you began to free fall on top of him. Lucifer only hugged you closer, before his wings shot open, slowing your descent. 

Carefully, you peeled your eyelids open to the two of you gliding softly down, as Lucifer circled the pole lazily. Your feet swung in the air, and the wind rushed past your ears. The adrenaline rush causing you to laugh in glee as you felt your feet hit a hard surface.

You both stood there in silence for a few moments, the weight of what just transpired finally settling on top of you. 

Holy shit, you just kissed the King of Hell! From trying to stay as far away from him, to getting as close as physically possible. What a twist.

“Well, now that we’re down here,” Lucifer began slowly, his gaze meeting yours with a playful roll of his eyebrows, “we could continue our previous.. discussion.” 

You almost obliged, until you heard the familiar call of Charlie, as she searched for her father. You tensed in his grip, before pulling away from his hold. A pout formed on Lucifer’s lips at the absence of your touch, before he straightened himself. 

Snapping his fingers, that familiar white overcoat magically materialized onto his figure, along with his wide brim hat. Your eyes landed onto that spot where the missing apple usually was, and then you noticed how empty both your hands were.

“Your apple! I think I dropped it when I almost fell.” You explain apologetically.

“Oh, you mean this apple?”

Lucifer pulled the red, gleaming trophy from beneath his overcoat. He threw it in the air a few times, catching it gracefully. A silent boast as he grinned at you. Your mouth only hung agape, as you scanned the apple for any imperfections.

“There is no way you took that from me! How do I know you didn’t just make that?”

“Woah! Sounds like someone is a sore loser.” Lucifer laughed, before turning towards the door, he kept his gaze on yours as he did so, walking backwards as he talked.

Slowly, you kept pace with him, shaking your head in disbelief at his words. He was just as preoccupied as you, sucking on your face, you couldn’t believe he actually took it from you in the chaos.

“At least we settled the little debate, hm? Seems like i’m better at these kinds of things than you. Just like I said.”

“We’ll definitely come back and test that theory with your wings bound this time.”

“Oh, will we? Is that a challenge?”

Lucifer halted at the doorway, and you stopped a few footsteps away. You batted your eyelashes at him, grinning playfully, “it’s a promise, actually.” 

He grinned at that, before he leaned in closer, curiosity gleaming in his eyes.

“So, you haven’t been avoiding me, then?” 

‘Not this again.’ You groaned internally.

“No, I haven’t. I’m sorry, I’ve just got a lot on my mind lately.” You quickly spoke, an apologetic look on your face. Would he buy your lie?

“And you’ll tell me when something is wrong, right?” 

You cracked him an assuring smile, “of course!” You lied through pearly-white teeth. 

Lucifer nodded approvingly at that, before he glanced out of the room. You both could hear Charlie a hallway or two away, and she seemed frantic to find her father. Lucifer only sighed, before turning to you.

“Looks like I’ll be seeing you real soon, Darling.” He promised, bowing his head slightly to you. You wanted to scold him for that, about lowering his head to someone of lower class, if he did that in public no doubt the citizens of Hell would mock him for it.

But, you weren’t in public. You were alone, with someone you cherished, able to whisper all your secrets, hopes, and dreams to someone you trusted most. If only you could tell him the truth, and not be stuck here drowning in your own lies.

Lucifer gave you one final glance, before he turned away, strolling through the hall away from your room. A happy whistle came from his lips, and you could hear it slowly fading as he moved away.

Backing up, you plopped down on a bench on the side of the room. The recent events hit you like a freight train, and you realized how terribly stupid you were.

How were you supposed to protect Lucifer from whatever plan Alastor had in store for him, if you were going to keep disregarding your brain for your weak little heart? 

Yes, Lucifer was the most powerful being in Hell, far more powerful than that red demon. But, he was also a sad, lonely angel. Who craved affection and attention, which he seemed to want solely from you and Charlie. 

If your life were in danger, would he be stupid and risk his own for you? He wouldn’t, he couldn’t. Your filthy, sinning soulless self wasn’t worth the trouble.

You just wish Lucifer would see that. 

For an hour, you paced the perimeter of the room. Your thoughts clear as you evaluated all the metaphorical cards in your hand. If Husk taught you anything about gambling, it was always to call your opponents bluff before he had a chance to do it to you.

Your feet halted suddenly, your heart beating rapidly in your chest as you stared through the large windows. Your thoughts settling as you watched the waning light.

You weren’t some pushover, some scared little child in need of protection. You weren’t going to let some murderous psychopath take any more control of your life. You were going to call the shots this time, even if that meant being dragged by the throat into that well.

As long as everyone you cared about, even Husker, made it out.

There was only one plan of action you saw ahead. And, it was not going to be the easy route.

“I’m done.” 

Alastor halted, the wall sconces in the hallway illuminating his sharp grin as he heard the words leave your lips. It had been four days since you decided you were going to stand against him.

“Pardon?” The words left his lips slowly, his head cracking in-humanely to one side, his ears twisting to face you. 

“I said I’m done deceiving for you. I’m not going to lie to Lucifer, or anyone else, for any longer.”

Alastor didn’t say anything, his back still turned to you. His claws tapped against his microphone, rhythmic and loud as he processed your words.

“Is that so?” 

“Yes, and I don’t care what you have to say about it. There’s more to the world than power, Alastor.”

You felt something cold tugging against your neck, that familiar, sickening sensation returning to your body. You sucked in a large breath, calming your rapid heartbeat. 

Green illuminated your face as you felt something heavy begin to weigh on your body. Alastor held one of his hands out, before flicking his wrist with a painful pop sound. 

The chain snapped forward from the collar around your throat, snaking around your figure as it wove to Alastor’s palm, its green glow casting eerie shadows against the walls. You struggled against its hold, feeling the cold, metallic links digging into your skin. Alastor's laughter echoed through the hallway, a chilling sound that sent shivers down your spine.

"You dare defy me?" Alastor's voice was low, dangerous. "You forget your place, little puppet."

Panic surged through you as you fought against the chain, but it only tightened its hold, squeezing the air from your lungs. You gasped for breath, your vision blurring as darkness threatened to consume you.

"Perhaps a reminder is in order," Alastor said, his tone dripping with malice. "A lesson in obedience."

“Don’t you have any more tricks in the book than this fucking chain?” You growled between gasps, the back of your head sliding against the floor as you twisted against its metal grasp. “C’mon Al, this is just embarrassing.”

Immediately, his face contorted into a look into a large, crooked smile. His eyes shifted to resemble radio dials, as he harshly yanked you towards him. Your cheek slid across the carpet, and you felt the sting of rug burn bloom across your face.

‘Don’t let him see you scared, don’t let him win.’ You begged yourself internally, as you held your tears back. 

Alastor’s face began to change, his features sharpening drastically, that crooked smile growing all the more larger. His antlers branched farther from his head, gnarling together in twisting designs above his ears. 

Even his hair began to stand on end, as he stalked closer to you. Shadows enveloped the hall, like a fog rolling in. Obscuring the sight of your eventual corpse, as Alastor wrapped the chain around his arm, keeping it taut as he closed in.

“The only embarrassment,” He started, his voice flickering into pure static at his rage, “will be how fast it takes for your s̴͔̓̌̍ç̵̯̮͍͆̿r̷̼̥̿̒̊̐e̸͙̣̯͛̽̒a̷͈̼͗ͅm̵̮͑͛͆s̴̻͊̽̑ to die on your t̸̝͓̆͌͝ö̷̻͚̩̎͊n̸̨̘̭͍̕g̵̱̝͍̈́͛̍ͅû̶̞̼̲͜é̴̺, when I rip your h̷̟̣͚̅̏̔̚͜ë̵̺͙́́a̶͉͙̤͆͋r̶̼̈́͝t̴͙̯̕ out of your throat.”

Archaic symbols danced your vision as Alastor’s entire body seemed to contort into jagged edges, his arms and legs doubling in length, as his hunched back hit the ceiling of the hallway. His crooked neck lowered, his head itching closer. One claw coming out to hook  underneath you collar, pulling you up by the neck. 

“What will our dear King do then, when he finds your mangled body on his front door?” 

You snarled, trying to tear away from his grip. How dare he still try and bring Lucifer into this, even when the fallen angel could pulverize him in an instant. Couldn’t he face you one to one? 

The Radio Demon’s eyes flickered a darker red, and you feel the collar begin to tighten around your throat, squeezing the breath from your airways. You gasped, tears pricking at your eyes as you clawed at your neck in a poor attempt to stop the sensation.

“Alastor? Is everything alright over there?” 

Suddenly, the squeezing at your throat dispersed like fog, as the collar and chain vanished into thin air. You were left on the floor, sputtering for breath, as Alastor quickly pivoted towards the voice. His body instantly shifted back to normal, with quiet pops and clicks as his joints squeezed back into place.

It was Vaggie, coming down the hall, her eye staring suspiciously at his shaded form. 

Clutching your bruising throat, you stumble onto your feet. Your back hits the wall, and you use it for support to catch your breath.

Alastor straightened his suit, his expression morphing into its usual grin as if nothing had happened. “Oh, everything’s just dandy, Vaggie. Just having a delightful little chat with our friend here.” He gestured casually toward you, his tone dripping with false cheerfulness. “Isn’t that right?” He raised an eyebrow, his eyes glinting with an unknown expression.

“Yeah—cough—sorry, just choked on the water I was drinking.”

“Right. Listen, Alastor, I wanted to talk to you in private. If that’s okay with you.” Vaggie said, gesturing down the hall.

“Of course, it’s always a pleasure speaking with you, my dear!” You didn’t miss the way Alastor’s eye twitched, as if he was not thrilled about having to leave. But, he was deceiving everyone else, too. Which meant he had to play his little part to a T.

“I’m just.. going to go. I’m not feeling so well.” You muttered to the pair, before darting around the corner, out of sight. 

You ran to your room, slamming your door behind you. Your back hit its frame, before slowly sliding down until your bottom hit the carpet. Tears of anger flowed down your cheeks, as you continued to rub your neck.

Fuck. Why were you so powerless?! If only you had even a sliver of magic in you, you could have defied him better. Now, what was Alastor going to do? 

‘What did you expect?’ A part of your mind hissed scoldingly, ‘You just tried to fight the demon that owns your soul, and got your ass handed to you.’

You growled, rising to your feet. Frustration, sadness, pain, everything seeped out of you, and you felt like killing someone in that moment.

“It’s better—”

You picked up a spare shoe from the ground, your nails digging into it as you bared your teeth. Swinging it behind you, you vaulted it towards the opposite wall.

“—than doing nothing at all!” 

You heard glass shattering, and watched shards spill from the mirror above your dresser. You could see your face, partially obscured in its remaining reflection. You could see the slight purple marks around your neck, see the tears spilling from your cheeks.. see that dark look on your features, like you actually would kill somebody.

Reeling back, you placed your knuckles to your lips. Maybe, to stop that lip from quivering so violently. That face in the mirror reminded you of everything you hated about this wretched place.

And, now, you were becoming just like him. You stepped backwards, trying to distance yourself from the reflection, before the back of your legs hit the side of your bed, and you sank into the mattress. You wrapped your arms around your knees, curling into a ball as you sobbed the frustration out of you.

You could still feel the dark magic sizzling against your neck, as if it refused to release you of its hold just yet.

It wasn’t until you heard soft rapping of knuckles against glass did you lift your head. Turning towards the balcony doors, your eyes widen at the sight of the familiar figure standing outside. His silhouette illuminated by the dark red hues of the evening light, as he waved through the frosted glass.

“I see you over there! Can you let me in for a moment?” 

What was Lucifer doing here?! This was terrible timing for him to make an appearance! But, he knows you're there, can see your silhouette through the glass as you sit there on the bed. You sighed, quickly cleaning your face of tears, and taking a few deep breaths.

“Come in.” You called hoarsely, cracking the best smile you could muster.

The glass doors slowly pushed out of them, and Lucifer quietly shimmied through the cracks. He pivoted to face you, a large smile on his lips as he squinted at you through the darkness of your room.

“I’m so glad you’re here, I was just about to leave and then I remembered I never gave you your caramel apple!” 

Lucifer began to stroll forward, your face becoming less obscured in the shadows as he closed in. You tried to shrink away slightly, turning your knees away from him so he couldn’t see them quivering slightly.

“I put a layer of chocolate on it too, and so—wait, why are you crying?” His gaze intensified, as your face finally illuminated in the light.

“I-it’s nothing! I just had something in my eye!” You lied, cracking a wider smile.

“What are those marks on your neck?” Lucifer ignored your excuse, as he stalked closer to you. His eyes constantly scanning your figure looking for any more oddities. 

“Please, Lucifer.. I’m just tired and-”

“What is this?”

Lucifer had asked, his pupils dilated, trained on something against your throat. Something more than the small purple marks.

You began to rub your thumbs together in a soothing motion as you watched him move closer to you. Gulping, you parted your lips to speak.

You didn’t get a chance to say anything, before his hand gingerly lifted towards you. His nail grazed against your collarbone, and heat blossomed underneath your skin from his touch. 

‘Please, just stop here,’ you silently begged, eyes squeezing shut as his finger rested against your figure, ‘don’t ruin this moment by digging any farther.’

Your reaction only spurred him, however. Lucifer’s eyes narrowed, his pupils thin slits now as he watched you.

Slowly, his finger trailed upward, skin brushing softly against yours as he traced the invisible force only a powerful demon could see. Your heart beat rapidly in your chest, every movement of his only quickening its pace. 

Until his hand stopped, right in the middle of your neck, and you felt a sizzling against your skin. The heat was becoming too much, and you wanted to pull away from his touch. You didn’t, instead, you tensed, deathly still before him.

A soft golden light illuminated from Lucifer’s palm, as his fingers wrapped around an invisible object. A shadow formed in his grip, and he tugged at it, that glow in his palm growing stronger.

Backing away, he yanked a long, thin chain from your figure, as if trying to free you of a parasite that found a home deep in your bones. As he stepped backwards, it only dragged across the floor, still connected to your neck as it lengthened.

A thick, metal collar snuggly encompassed your throat. The chain locked tightly against it, a vivid reminder of your poor decisions.

Lucifer’s palm slid across the cold, metal links. Eldritch magic seeped from its form in the shroud of thick fog. Archaic symbols danced at the edge of your vision as its glow illuminated Lucifer’s unreadable expression.

The chain was a sickly green, its harsh glow an annoyance to his eyes. It was embedded with a dark, chilling magic. Whispers of untold horrors and ancient curses coiling around you, promises of a fate worse than death. 

Lucifer could practically smell it, that red demon's aura as it encircled around your frame. A twisted signature, practically scrawled across your forehead like a stamp of ownership.

Oh, the audacity of a person to take such a kind soul and rip it away from its owner. 

You weren’t some dog to be beckoned at the flick of a wrist. You were so much more than that, you deserved so much more than that. 

Yet here you were, the clasp around your neck like a shadowed hand, softly squeezing the life out of your eyes. He could see it, clear as day.

Small, white horns protruded from his head as he clenched the chain tighter. He tugged it once, twice, as if testing its durability. You leaned back slightly, the chain becoming taught between the two of you.

That collar around your throat kept you locked in place, as you watched him turn the chain in his hands. For a moment, Lucifer’s figure melded into the horrid shadow of your owner, and your eyes widened in fear at your delusion.

You could see it, feel it. Your stomach brushing the stained carpet beneath you with that haunting figure bent in a sickly, twisted angle in front you. That chain wrapped around the radio demon’s hand as he threatened you with terrible acts if you failed to stay in line.

Seeing your face contort into pained anguish only caused him to bare his teeth slightly, the sharp edges glinting in the light.

Seeing it so deeply entwined with your very being only further spurred the king’s anger. It seeped quietly from him, his grip tight against the chains as if trying to snap them with his bare hands.

“Who did this?” He hissed, his gaze boring into yours. He wanted to hear you say that demon’s name, wanted to hear you confirm the truth that was so obvious in front of him. 

You knew he wasn’t angry at you, but still you bowed your head slightly. Averting your gaze from his pleading eyes, shame slowly clawing at your stomach. For a moment, you felt like throwing up. Wanting to rid yourself of the terrible feeling that was seeping into your skin.

You felt like crying, or throwing yourself into his arms. Wanting to melt into his hold, and be told again and again that everything would be alright. That the most powerful man in hell would come to your rescue.

But, deals that bartered in souls are a much more difficult magic to conquer.

Fighting the urge to collapse into his embrace, you steeled yourself. Hands planted against your knees, back straight in a pathetic attempt to have some kind of power in this moment. 

Your eyes sullenly traced across the harsh links of the chain, its form all too familiar by now. Yet, it still caused such grief in your bones no matter how many times you looked upon it over the years.

Slowly, your eyes shifted to meet his gaze. Your lips curved into a frown at his expression, and your predicament.

How were you supposed to tell the love of your life your soul didn’t belong to you? That you were trapped in a deal of your own making? 

Curse that little fine line in your deal that kept your mouth sealed shut, that prevented you from uttering his name.

“I-I..” You desperately tried to speak, to tell him the truth, but that invisible hand that pulled at your tongue forced your silence. Tears pricked at your eyes, the desperation in them evident as your attempts to explain only died behind those pretty lips of yours.

As your mouth shut in frustration, Lucifer’s anger only heightened. His eyes flared into a blood-red glow, a harsh change from that soft yellow radiance you often found yourself lost in.

He pivoted harshly away, his voice contorting into a snarl as he stalked out of the room. His overcoat appeared atop his shoulders, and it swished behind him as he moved. 

Lucifer’s thoughts were too tangled with the images of his claws wrapping around the deal-makers throat to sit there and console you.

The tears that had threatened to spill finally rolled down your cheeks, your lip quivering as your eyes lingered on the doorway he had just exited. His thoughts too mangled with the image of his claws wrapping around the deal-makers throat to sit there and console you.

Placing your face into your hands, you sobbed quietly. 

Oh, how that regret had begun to consume you as you continued to wallow in your self-pity. 

Regret, for thinking that giving away your soul was a simple feat. That somehow, you’d still be happy after the fact. 

Regret, for falling in love when you knew the deal that kept you to that deer demon’s side would never allow you to enjoy such a fleeting emotion. No matter how hard you clawed to Lucifer’s soft embrace, that chain would always be there to drag you back. 

Those soft whispers of affections, of promises you couldn’t keep. Knowing, one day, that constant-smiling demon could play his little games and tear you away from your lover’s hold forever.

Oh, what a lovestruck idiot you are. 

Lucifer’s feet carried him back to the lobby, his eyes glowing as he noticed the cat-demon, Husk, cleaning glasses behind the bar. He sharply turned in his direction, surely, this other being 

“You, bartender.” Lucifer hissed, as he lifted himself up onto the barstool, crossing one leg over the other. Acting as if only wanting to have a friendly chat with the demon. His claws extended slightly, as they tapped impatiently against the countertop. 

Husker looked up from the glass in his hands, his eyes bored and his mouth a thin line as he worked. It wasn’t until he saw Lucifer’s deadly expression did he drop the glass immediately, ears slightly pinned to his head, before straightening his back to address the king.

“I-uh, how can I help you, Your Majesty?” 

Lucifer’s lips upturned into a lopsided grin, those sharp teeth on full display. That’s right, some people have to remember exactly who they are dealing with.

“Where is your master?”

Husk paused, regarding Lucifer for a moment with an eyebrow raised. He was very aware of the tension between the two powerful demons, but he didn’t expect the King of Hell would go looking for Alastor.

“I’m not sure, sir. You could bring it up with Charlie when she gets back, I’m sure she knows more than little ol’ me.” 

Lucifer grimaced slightly at that. Of all the people in the hotel, his daughter was the last one he’d want to bring into this whole debacle.

“There’s got to be something you must know, bartender. He owns your soul too, does he not?”

“What, you think I keep track of the guy or something?” 

“No, but you should,” Lucifer snarled, leaning over the counter, causing Husk to reel back slightly, “it’s clear no one here keeps eyes on that filth, enough to stop him from hurting people in this very hotel.”

Husk seemed to deflate at that. Those long, feathery eyebrows of his lowering slightly as an unreadable expression crossed his face. He set the glass down, before sharply turning away from Lucifer.

“He’s usually in his room, by now,” Husk spoke quietly after a moment, “down the left hall, last door on the right. Ya can’t miss it.”

Lucifer didn’t give thanks, instead he tapped his cane at his side, and golden waves circled around him. In an instant, the King was gone, a few pieces of gold dust landing softly against the barstool. 

“Asshole.” Husk muttered, before popping open a bottle of liquor and lifting it to his lips.

Lucifer opened his eyes to see a large door in front of his face, green symbols glittered against its frame, etched into the wood with practiced precision.

Only Lucifer could see them, though. Only powerful wielders of such a force could see these runes. Magical spells, cast upon the room. Protection, defense, muffling, everything an evil guy could dream of.

Although, the demon’s magic was strange. Unfamiler, even. Seems like he’s been dabbling in a new form of sorcery.

Lucifer stood there, for a few moments. He didn’t knock at the door, or jiggle the handle. The Radio Demon was not the one in control here, so he simply waited impatiently for an answer.

“I know you’re in there, you rat.” Lucifer hissed, the horns poking from his head continuing to rise. “I know you can hear me. Why don’t you do us both a favor and show yourself, or are you too much of a coward now?” 

Slowly, the door to Alastor’s room creaked open. The interior obscured by thick shadows, with soft lights flickering from the edges of the room as Lucifer continued to stand there.

“Your Majesty!” A cheerful voice called from the shadows of the room, and Lucifer bared his teeth at the tone. “What an honor to have someone like you gracing my presence. Please, come in!”

Lifting his head high again, Lucifer took a confident step into the room. He had every right to be, even in the demon’s own abode, the King’s powers were unmatched. 

Lucifer’s lips curled into a sneer at the saccharine greeting. “Save the pleasantries, rat. We both know why I’m here.”

As Lucifer stepped further into the room, the door behind him remained wide open, the light from the hallway illuminating the King’s figure. Alastor’s silhouette still danced within the shadows, the glow of his red eyes illuminating the space as he carefully followed the King’s movements.

“Ah, but do we really, Your Majesty? Enlighten me.”

Lucifer’s eyes narrowed, his patience wearing thin. “You have an uncanny knack to create suffering with everything you touch. Now, you pull the strings of innocent lives. Do you thirst for power that fucking badly, to make a deal for someone’s soul?”

“They made a deal on their own whim,” Alastor retorted, waving his hands in a sweeping motion, brushing off the accusation, “How could I say no to such an offer? I’m a demon, if you can recall.”

The lights in the room began to flicker with renewed life, and Alastor’s sharp grin only made the fallen angel want to tear it from his face.

“Demons like you deserve to be ground into dust.” Lucifer snarled, closing the distance between the two. He lifted his head, meeting Alastor’s piercing gaze. His claws wrapped around the Radio Demon’s black bow tie, and he harshly tugged him down to his eye level.

Alastor stared at the grip with a deathly silence, his face contorting into sharper features, his pupils taking the dialed form once more. 

Energy crackled in the room, a mix of both demon’s powers as the tension only continued to escalate. Alastor didn’t move from the hold, he knew better than to test that fate. 

The lines above Lucifer’s lips scrunching as he stared at the demon with disgust. “You steal the souls of those weaker than you to fill that emptiness in your own, it’s pathetic.”

“Maybe.” Alastor shrugged nonchalantly, before a green spark sizzled against his bow-tie, and it limply fell from his clothing in Lucifer grip. He turned away, stalking towards the cutting board on the counter.

“Don’t walk away from me, you freak. Lest I do everyone in this hotel a favor and remove you from existence right here.”

A dark chuckle bounced against the walls, filling the room as Alastor kept his back to Lucifer. “Ah, but if you kill me, they die too. Souls entwined with each other, you see. Such a dilemma, wouldn’t you say?”

Lucifer gritted his teeth, cursing his oversight. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath.

Alastor’s voice took on a sly tone. “But fear not, Your Majesty. I’m not without mercy. I understand the affection you hold for such a.. charming demon.”

Lucifer’s gaze hardened, suspicion clouding his features. “What do you want?”

“Why don’t we.. make a d̴̻͉̺̆è̴̛͎̟̖̻͐a̵̭̫͆͆̽l̸͓͍̽̆̀̕?” Alastor’s tone crackled with static, as he spun to face the fallen angel. His head tilting curiously to one side, watching Lucifer’s expression.

Lucifer laughed, an audible ha-ha as the words left Alastor’s lips. He twisted his cane between his fingers, his claws leaving small etched lines trailing behind his movements.

“A deal with you? Do you actually expect me to give you my soul?”

Alastor’s grin widened, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Oh, not your soul, silly! It’s nothing too extravagant. Just a little exchange of power. After all, what’s a deal between demons?”

“And, what exactly does this deal entail?”

Alastor paused for a moment, his intense gaze never leaving. “I have.. a few affairs I never got to settle when I died. I’d like to be able to return to that filthy place, whenever and wherever I want.”

“That’s it?” Lucifer asked in disbelief, his head leaning back slightly as he processed the demon’s words. “You want access to the human realm? You’re standing before the King of Hell! Why not simply ask for my title?”

Damnit, Lucifer, is it really the time to get your pride twisted?

“Oh, I couldn’t be bothered to bare such responsibilities of a king. I’d take your strength in a heartbeat though, but we both know you aren’t powerful enough to bless me with such a gift.”

The mockery in Alastor’s tone of the fallen angels' lack of heavenly abilities, spurred Lucifer. Who’s horns were fully out for view now, that small fire licking hungrily between them.

“Well? What is it going to be, Your Majesty?” Alastor hummed, his nails clicking against the countertop. “Do you want their soul or not?”

A demon like Alastor, being granted the ability to leap from the realms? It was much different than giving Amsodueus’ little spawns access via that orange crystal, who didn’t hold the kind of magic the demon before him did. 

What would he do when he was up there? Steal more souls? Go on a slaughter spree? There was no telling with the twisted man before him.

But… it was Heaven’s problem. Wasn’t it? It was them who cast Lucifer away from the place he helped create, and now it was their job to clean up the messes.

“Why would you give me something of such value for something like that?” Lucifer asked after a  moment.

“Because your little lover is a deep pain in my side, always disrespecting and challenging my words. If it wasn’t for that silver tongue of theirs, I’d have killed them ages ago.”

Lucifer growled, golden flames dancing on his fingertips at Alastor’s words. 

“They also don’t have any value. No power, no status, just a beggar on the street when I found them all those years ago. You could say I only made such a deal because I pitied their pathetic existence.”

‘If this guy keeps talking, I might just have to kill him.’

Time stood still in that room for a moment, the ending of the song playing from the radio the only indicator that the realm was still moving around them.

“I’m waiting~” Alastor sung, both demons locking eyes with each other across the room instensly.

As Lucifer weighed the consequences, a firm line set on his lips as he nodded. "Very well, Alastor," he said, extending a hand towards the demon. "We have a deal."

Their hands met in a firm shake, and as their fingers intertwined, a surge of dark energy crackled between them. Wisps of shadow and flame danced around their clasped hands, swirling around the duo.

Alastor was lost in a maniacal fit of laughter, as large eyes and symbols danced around him. That smile on his lips changed, as lines of thread locking his teeth together, as if someone had forcefully stitched that grin in place.

The air itself seemed to tremble with the force of their agreement, and the room pulsed with an otherworldly energy. The very fabric of reality seemed to warp and bend around them as the terms of their pact solidified.

Suddenly, you burst into the room, your eyes widening in fear as you saw the two demon’s hands entwined. You placed a hand to your mouth in shock, as you realized exactly what they were doing.

“Oh, no no no NO!” You cried hoarsely against the loud rushing wind, pushing you against the wall. What kind of deal was Lucifer making?! 

With a final burst of darkness, the pact was sealed, and both demons drew back. Alastor’s eyes gleamed with newfound power. His aura crackled with renewed strength, and the demon’s grin widened with satisfaction.

His eyes landed on you, a twisted smirk on his lips as he vanished in a plume of smoke. The intensity of it causing your eyes to water, and to fall into a fit of coughs.

The echoes of their agreement lingered in the air in a mixture of green and gold sparks of energy. Lucifer stood alone in the room, before he took a step backwards, stumbling slightly as you reached him. 

Taking his arm, you yank him out of the room, into the hallway. You scan over his figure, your heartbeat quickening as you search for any kind of injuries.

“What did you do? You didn’t make a deal for your soul, did you?!” You cried in panic, your hands on both sides of Lucifer’s face as he blinked away the fog from behind his eyes.

“Of course, I didn’t.” Lucifer muttered between your palms, “I simply gave him some power that he can go fuck off with for the rest of eternity.”

“But.. he c-could—oh, why would you do that?! That was so stupi—”

Lucifer quickly wrapped his fingers around your forearms, shaking you gently to get you to look at him. The slits of his pupils trained intently on your look of distraught.

“For you!” He growled, and you slammed your mouth shut. His breath was ragged, his lips downturned into a painful frown as he watched your lip begin to quiver.

“I made a deal to exchange your soul for a little power, because I cannot bare seeing you suffer any longer. Do you get that? I walked into your bedroom, to find you bruised and in tears. Over what, spilled milk?!”

“I can take it, I've been taking it.” You cried, arms shaking as you fidgeted in his hold. Shame clawing at your throat. Why did you have to be so fucking useless when it came to things like this?

“No! Stop that. Stop lying to me! That ‘everything is fine and dandy’, when it’s not. I’m the goddamn King of Hell, and I can’t even protect you because you refuse to let anyone prove that you matter.”

Lucifer squeezed his eyes shut, head leaning into your shoulder as he took a deep breath. Your scent easing his anger slowly as he sunk into your embrace.

“You matter so much to me, you and Charlie. If I have to make a deal with a douchebag like him, to save your soul, then so be it. I don’t care what he takes from me.” 

Tears spilled from your cheeks, and you wrapped your arms around his neck. You both fell to your knees, and it was your turn to lean into his embrace. Your shoulders shook as you sobbed into his chest.

You were finally free from that monster. He couldn’t hurt you anymore, couldn’t lay a finger on you without consequence. Yet, your tears were also of sadness. You had tried so hard to prevent this, to prevent Lucifer from being selfless and allowing Alastor to win. 

You felt hands gently rubbing at your back, a soothing motion that quelled your quivering figure slightly. It was so warm, like laying in front of a lively fireplace. You wanted to stay there forever.

You were so tired. The mental exhaustion that had been plaguing your mind all these months finally slamming into you, and you lay there limp against his embrace.

“Please.. please don’t cry. I love you, I love you.” Lucifer whispered softly, his voice cracking as he pulled you deeper into his hold. He kept repeating those words, ‘I love you’, as he placed soft kisses against your forehead.

You felt the soft touch of feathers graze against your ears, and cracked open an eye to see Lucifer’s wings engulfing the both of you. They nestled into you, rubbing against your cheek softly, lulling you into a sleepy daze.

“I’ve got you, I promise.” Lucifer whispered into your ear. “You’re safe, you’re loved, I'm so sorry.” 

You placed a soft kiss to his collarbone, and snuggled deeper into his chest. Thankfully, no one was around to bother the two of you as you sat on the floor in the hall.

Just five minutes. That’s all you needed, five minutes basking in his warmth, in his soft words of affection. Five minutes to promise yourself you’d never let him do something like this again.

And maybe, everything would be alright. 

you guys 😭 i made sure this fic was cooked, damnit!! A little more fast-paced than usual, but I hope you can forgive me for that. i also could not settle on what kind of deal alastor wanted to make, so i blind drew out of a hat. i just wanted to bring in a little drama, and it’s hard when one of them is can be easily bodied haha

i honestly have to stop telling yall how long I think my fics will be bc i said “oh i want this to be as long as artist!reader pt. 4”, yet it’s roughly 6-7k over it someone kill me

let me know what you think 🫶

[Lucifer] taglist: @ohnoivefallen @doodlebob2726 @coleisyn @loslox @sukxma @undertale-is-sansational @nehy019 @mixplara @chewbrry @yellowsubiesdance @airwolf92 @laurenlaurie @lxkeee @jellybellyrulez @catnoirsleftnut @mbruben-stein @mint129106 @froggybich @moonlovers34 @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @lil-bexie @lowkeyhottho @wings-of-sapphire @the-tortured-poet @enigmatic-blues @bethleeham @blue122 @cherry-4200 @azullynx @luzzbuzz @for-hearthand-home

[katszumi]

“stare at her longer people might confuse you for a stalker.” mina said for only his ears to catch, not for the paparazzi that’s incoherently shouting at them.

katsuki unintentionally peeled his eyes away from you, his face contorting. “wasn’t staring.” gruffly, he responded.

he placed a fist over his open dries van noten blazer. he straightened his posture, broadening his shoulders for the picture being taken ahead. once pictured, the two of them both took a few steps down the carpet, preparing to restart the process.

mina refused the urge to snort at his words. he wasn’t fooling anyone, the look on his face even contradicted his own words.

the pink woman placed a hand on her hip, shifting her weight on her left leg as she pushed her right leg forward a smidge. “don’t lie to yourself,” she paused her words, allowing the paparazzi to take her picture for the nth time. “i get it though, she’s beautiful, especially tonight.”

in his head, katsuki immediately agreed. you were the most beautiful woman within a five mile radius, hell, maybe even in the entire country of japan. there wasn’t another woman katsuki could name that could compete with you.

a few yards down, you were busy doing a useless interview with some fuckin’ extra he’s never heard of. your smile was from ear to ear, your gaze daring and fierce, and your aura alluring. all of it was for free for a person that did not deserve any bit of it at all. if katsuki had a say, the reporter should be on his knees, kissing the ground you walked on, thankful he was able to breathe the same air as you.

finishing up one of their last poses, mina and katsuki sideways walked down the carpet once more, angling themselves towards the thousand cameras in front of them.

“still, i wasn’t staring.” he refused her words again.

flashes of white surrounded the area, the cameras whining at every second, every angle of the duo being snapped at.

“sure, bakugou.” this time, mina allowed a small chuckle to part her lips. “heard a certain hero is courting her.”

like a black cat, katsuki’s ears sharpened at her sentence, his eyes darting towards mina only for a second. “bullshit.” he called it. he doesn’t remember you mentioning anything similar to that.

but he reminds himself, what relationship did you two have for you to tell him things like that?

“don’t shoot the messenger, just what i heard.” a smirk quirked up the corner of her lip, mina sending one final pose.

it couldn’t have been true. it was impossible for a rumor about you to have gone around without katsuki hearing about it. mina must’ve been trying to lure him in, to make him slip-up. yeah, that had to have been it.

he wasn’t going to fall for mina’s ridiculous plan.

without thought, katsuki looked over at you once more, his eyes analyzing you more than he’d like to admit.

while it was true he wasn’t going to fall for her stupid plan, it was also true that you’ve had more of a certain glow to you lately. your eyes had been more softer and your smile seemed more genuine.

nah.

he wasn’t falling for it.

but, as soon as his foot touched the end of the red fabric carpet, his legs were taking themselves towards you and that shitty reporter. for why? of course it was for a completely different reason than to what mina said.

almost as if you were reading his mind, your head turned, your soft eyes meeting his fervent vermillion irises.

“katsuki, what a pleasant surprise.” you greeted him with your usual bright smile.

the reporter that was granted all of your attention also ogled at katsuki. mainly because he interrupted a private interview, but also because it was the katsuki bakugou in front of him.

katsuki stood aside of you, still letting all of the focus to be on you, but close enough that he placed his hand on your back gently.

“had to make myself known. feel like you’ve been tucked away all evenin’.”

instead of letting you reply, the reporter finally took his chance to speak up again. “dynamight, what are your thoughts on y/n swiftly climbing the ranks?” the reporter pushed the microphone in his face.

katsuki raised his brow at the male, but nonetheless he opened his mouth to reply.

“what else do you want me to say? obviously it’s well-deserved. these fuckers been sleepin’ on her for way too long, it’s about fuckin’ time.” his voice harsh, but his words were somewhat kind. “she’ll be dominating the charts in less than no time.”

“do you see yourself collaborating with y/n anytime soon?”

now, you looked at him, waiting for his answer.

“if she grants me permission.” katsuki met your eyes once more. “only the best of the best can work with y/n.” mina’s words entering his mind from earlier, he removed his eyesight off of you, back onto the reporter.

“so, that means—”

he interrupted the male, “that means no shitty extras. at all.”

needless to say, katsuki did in fact fall for mina’s antics. the truth coming out days later that there was no rumor of a hero courting y/n, but rather a mind game mina played on him for shits and giggles.

also a few days later, katsuki came across a new rumor that was headlined in the press, but this one he didn’t necessarily mind so much.

Y/N AND DYNAMIGHT WORK BUDDIES, OR MUCH MORE?

[lovelyiida]

mha guys caught stalking your socials.

INCLUDES: KATSUKI BAKUGO, SHOTO TODOROKI, EJIRO KIRISHIMA

SUMMARY: while in class you notice a certain person looking through your socials, and I mean every social platform possible. looking at every post down your first, so you decide to confront them.

WARNINGS: implied gender neutral reader, vulgar language

MASTERLIST

REQUESTS OPEN!!

WORDS: 5.4K

KATSUKI BAKUGO

•his face becomes so pale

• he’s so embarrassed that he becomes angry that you caught him in the act.

It was the middle of your recess before it was time to resume back to regular classes. You were trying to buy something from the vending machine downstairs but forgot your wallet at your desk.

In a hurry, you walk back to classroom 1-A to get your things. Walking in you noticed that Bakugo was the only one in the classroom.

A slight smirk plastered on his lips, watching him scroll relentlessly over and over. Sometimes he would stop and pause, clicking a couple of more times until he scrolled again.

You didn’t want to disturb him, he looked so content with life at the moment. You made sure you quietly got your wallet from your desk.

As you walked towards the back exit of the class, you near Bakugo. You wondered to yourself what’s got him smiling like this until you see it.

He was on Instagram, looking at photos of you.

And he was far down your page…at least a year's worth of posts.

You’d seen a selfie you took in front of a cat cafe with one of your guy friends you haven’t spoken to in a while due to him going to different schools.

“who the hell are you?” He quietly grumbled.

Tapping his phone, your tagged list popped up. Quickly slamming his thumb on his account, he starts to scroll fast through his posts as well.

Letting out a quick snort, bakugo smiles to himself. “Of course, he fuckin’ goes to school there…” he snorts. That was obviously a jab at him, he seemed to be jealous of him and he doesn’t even know the guy.

Before he could fixate on his “competition,” he saw a notification pop up. It was a rather late notification that you updated your story.

he has post notifications on for your account?

Quickly clicking your icon, bakugo paused before he loudly sucks his teeth together.

“What the hell?”

It was a photo of you and your desk neighbor Sero, posing goofily in class. Around 30 minutes before recess began, Sero with his hand on top of your head and a middle finger shown on the other.

He read the caption on your story: “FUCK PHYSICS -sero #eviltwin”

The story flashed quick before Bakugo took a screenshot of it. His breath started to quicken, you could tell he was pissed. Quickly opening his dms, he clicks on Sero’s account.

“What the fuck is evil twin?” He spits.

Sending the photo, bakugo begins to type:

‘WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU’

‘DIDN’T I SAY NOT TO TOUCH THEM?’

‘I’m gonna beat your ass at lunch’

‘meet me at the bottom of the staircase at B hall NOW’

‘what the hell is even an evil twin? ARE YOU GUYS TOGETHER OR SOMETHING?’

‘oh I’m gonna light your ass up’

Bakugo’s thumbs move so fast, spamming Sero with such ease and vigor. You see that Sero leaves him on seen, and you’d honestly do the same.

Typing out a ‘HELLO?’, bakugo starts to grumble. You start to feel heat bounce off of him, standing back you decide to make an exit.

But before you could even move your feet, bakugo jumps up from his seat and whips around. His eyes stare at the ground dart up to your soft eyes.

Words caught in his throat, Bakugo’s eyes widen.

Bakugo, shoots back in shock. He couldn’t even process your presence before he stumbled back into his seat with a loud slam. Startling you, you try and reach out to help him but he held out his hand and pops a spark making you shriek.

“are you okay?” You asked.

“How long have you been fucking standing there?” He yelled. His cheeks dusted pink as he screamed in your face.

stammering, you start to rub your fists together. Your palms were sweaty as you grew nervous.

“a-about 5 minutes or so!” you yelled.

“are you fuckin’ serious?” He groans, his hands shooting to his eyes as he rubs them in embarrassment.

“I-I’m sorry, okay? I was just coming in here to get my wallet for the vending machine and I saw you on your phone and I was just gonna do a quick little peak and then you just so happen to be stalking my account and-“

“Like hell would I ever stalk you!” He exclaimed, just flat-out lying.

This takes you aback, “so are we gonna sit here and pretend that you didn’t just curse out Sero because you’re jealous of him touching me?” You laughed.

Bakugo grew quiet, crossing your arms you let out a smug smile.

“Y’know, instead of parading around orders and making threats to people about not touching me like I’m your property. Maybe you should try and—I don’t know, make a fucking move?” You say.

A long beat of silence goes by.

You eye Bakugo down, his lips quiver. His chest heaving, as his face was red from embarrassment. Only his blonde spikes of hair were covering up the evidence of that.

You frown at him, maybe you were too harsh.

“Bakugo-“

Shooting up from his seat, he raced towards the door. The bell rang, signaling that recess is finally over.

Your lips were slightly agape, as you were still trying to process what just happened. You couldn’t even revel in the moment before your classmates walked in.

One by one they all get seated, settling in as they place out their textbooks for the next subject to be taught.

You didn’t realize how long you were standing there until you looked around and saw that everyone was seated, except for bakugo and sero.

The bell rang, signaling that it was time to continue classes.

“Is there a problem, “L/n?” Your teacher Aizawa voices.

You open your mouth to speak, but the heavy stomps of shoes cut you off once more. Looking at the doorway, you see Sero. Breathing heavily like he just ran for his life, his necktie untucked and a scuff mark on his cheek.

“Sorry, I’m late sensei!” Breathing heavily, you saw him lock eyes with you for a brief moment before walking past you, almost ignoring your existence.

Frowning to yourself you speak, “no sir.”

Talking quick paces to your seat, you sit down, huffing your breath you face towards Sero.

“Are you okay?” You asked.

Sero ignored you for a moment, cursing under his breath he then turned to you. “All good! Just worry about yourself kay?” He says. A fake smile was plastered all over his face.

Your bottom lip pokes out, you knew he was lying.

Turning towards the board, you gather your things and set up for the lesson. Writing some things down on your paper, your phone buzzes.

Picking it up, you notice that someone requested to talk to you on Instagram. Opening it, you read the account name.

@katsuki_lordexplosionmurder

you hesitated for a moment before opening it up.

‘sorry for blowing up on you back there’

‘you don’t have to respond to this, you have every right not to’

‘I fucking like you okay? Like a lot

‘please forgive me…’

letting out a sigh you start to type back:

‘apologize to Sero first, then we can talk’

Bakugo quickly reads your message, a long minute passes by before he responds ‘k.’

still shitty as ever, even in an apology...

around a day or so passes by before the both of you ever talk again. You’d see each other in class or around school, but you wouldn’t give as much as a side glance. Even tho Bakugo would be eyeing you down to where it felt like you thought you were naked.

You talked to Sero about if Bakugo apologized to him, which he said that he did a day ago. So why hasn’t he come to you yet?

It was a new day, and the bell just rang for recess. You decided to stay in your seat for today, scrolling through the nothingness of social media. You paused for a moment, turning slightly, you look back to see that Bakugo wasn’t in his seat.

Turning back you let out a deep exhale. You scrolled some more, growing comfortable in the silent classroom.

Liking a random picture you start to think of Bakugo again. Opening your dms, you mindlessly tap Bakugo’s account.

You wanted to say something, you just didn’t know what to say. Your thumbs hover over the screen, you were too scared to type. You felt that if you typed one single character that the world would crumble and the sky would fall.

Huffing out a breath you turn your screen off, as it fades to black. You notice a pair of amber eyes staring into the screen.

Eyes widening, you lean closer.

“Bakugo?” You whispered.

“Doesn’t feel good being watched does it?” His voice booms through the room. You jump, startled by his deep voice.

You see Bakugo let out a quick chuckle before sitting down in Sero’s seat.

“Bakugo, don’t scare me like that!-“

“After what you did to me? You were beggin’ for it” he jumps in.

A moment of silence goes by…

“Listen-“

“I get it if you don’t want to talk to me again…” Bakugo admits.

“It’s just—I’ve never felt this way about someone, okay? I like you a lot, and I want you to be mines. These people out here aren’t right for you, I wanna the only guy! You’re right I am jealous, I mean- who wouldn’t be? look at you!” Bakugo stammers.

You looked into his eyes for a moment, letting out a smirk as you turn toward him.

“After classes” you grin.

“What?” His head slightly turned in confusion.

“After classes…I’ll give you chance for you to show me that you’re the right guy” you bit your bottom lip, nervous for his reply.

Bakugo is still for a moment before showing his signature devilish grin, “shit.”

“It’s a date?” You asked innocently, extending your hand out to shake you smile at him. He looks down at your hand, quickly taking your hand he softly shakes it.

“It’s a date”

SHOTO TODOROKI

• surprisingly upfront with it

• what’s he got to hide?

At first, you caught him secretly going through your tik tok. Sitting behind him in class you would see your face on the screen as you lip-synced, danced, or talked.

Each video he would save and scroll past another one. Which made you grow uncomfortable.

Then he realized that he didn’t do it just to you but he did it with everyone else’s posts. This made you let down your guard a little.

I mean, who doesn’t stalk their friends from time to time? It’s good to see what your friends are doing within their “inner,” social media lives.

So you let it go.

You continued being friends with Todoroki, as he had no idea you knew he stalked him on social media. You went on and everything went normal.

Until one night you received a notification on Instagram.

‘@shoto has followed you!’

Looking at the notification, you thought nothing of it. Turning into your bed, you began to rest your eyes. Falling deeply into slumber, you were jolted away by the buzz of your photo.

A tired groan passes your lips, turning over you soak your hand down onto the nightstand. Patting around you find the familiar texture of your phone brush against your fingertips.

Letting out a sigh, you flip your phone over. Eyes hooded, closing completely as your screen flashes you. Quickly blinking, you adjust to the lighting of the screen.

“Another notification from Instagram?” You muffled into your pillow. Opening it, you see that Todoroki liked your most recent photo of you.

Another notification pops up on the top of your screen:

@shoto has commented on your post!:

@shoto: beautiful.

Was this a mistake?

You couldn’t believe your eyes, this must be a good dream because no way could this ever be reality.

Then it happened again, another notification on a post from a week ago. Tapping your screen at the speed of light, heat rises to your cheeks.

It was a photo of you holding up your favorite figurine you just bought with your savings. The caption read: ‘I GOT IT YES BITCHES!!’

@shoto: lol

@shoto: so cute

He must be on drugs, or maybe he was hit with a flirtatious quirk? Wide awake, you sit up in your bed. Blankets once covering your body slid off as the cold air of the room hugs your body.

Posture terrible, you bend down eyeing the screen. Neck extended and eyes wide, as you received another notification.

It was a video of you and your friend holding hands, walking at a festival. Laughing like happy idiots.

Another comment from Todoroki appears.

@shoto: should’ve been me holding your hand :(

Your mouth shoots agape, you quickly took a screenshot of the comment.

You genuinely could not process what was happening at the moment. Snapping your head towards your alarm clock it read 10 PM, you let out a sigh.

At least you have time to fall back asleep.

You sent the screenshot to your friends, pleading for advice. But you knew everyone was asleep due to how strenuous the hero drills were this evening.

You quickly place your phone on “do not disturb’” mode. Shutting your phone off you place it back on your nightstand with a “plop”. Smashing your face into the pillow, you let out a much-needed loud sigh.

‘Is he being hacked right now?’

‘He has to be getting hacked.’

‘There’s no way on earth Todorok would be saying this to me!’

It would take about another hour or two of tossing and turning before you were able to fall asleep again.

The room started to feel hotter than usual, stirring in your bed your eyes open. You were too tired for this right now. Slipping out of the covers, you walk over to your fan, turning it onto the highest setting. You huff out a breath and turn back around, only to be stopped dead in your tracks.

“can’t handle the heat?

eyes snapping wide, you whip over to the deep voice you heard.

"Todoroki!" you screamed, your body still from shock. you see him in the bed, under the covers, a smug smirk cast over his lips.

"what are you doing here, you're not allowed in anyone else's dorm past 8pm-"

"why not? you're scared someone will catch us?" he asks, ripping the blankets off your bed as he gets up. his body moving closer towards yours, you still couldn't even move due to the amount of shock.

looking into his multi-colored eyes, your mouth parted, "h-how did you even get in here?" you whispered. feeling a warm hand grip your waist, you jump, startled by the sudden touch of his hand.

"don't touch me there!" you whimpered.

your face looking towards the ground as you cower in embarrassment, this earns a chuckle from todoroki's lips. Leaning in closer, his other hand grabs your face softly.

"look at me," he says. voice stern yet soft, you shyly look up. eyes hooded and breath jagged. you shakily set your arms around his shoulders.

"you're mine" he whispers as he slowly leans in. you gasp at his words, biting your lips to begin to lean in as well.

your eyes close, as soon as you know it. the smoldering warmth you felt faded as you were shaken by the airy coldness of your dorm. eyes shooting open, you turn over to look at your alarm clock.

8:45AM!

you're late for class!

once you finished jumping around and getting yourself together, you dashed out of your dorm with a loud slam of the door. running across the courtyard and into the academic side of the school, running up the grand stairs and long halls. you finally make it to the class.

out of breath, you crash into your seat and bang your head against the desk.

"you're late today l/n, especially on count day, marking you down an extra five points." your teacher Aizawa speaks. You couldn't even mutter a complaint because you were so tired.

as the day went on, you couldn't stop staring at the back of todoroki's head. that was the dirtiest dream you ever had...

soon it was time for hero training, today the student just needed to focus on themselves and build their quirk.

you were looking at todoroki the whole time, and when you weren't, he would look at you.

you can't shake what you experienced last night, even if it was just a dream, it felt so real...

you talked to your best friend Jiro, as she was also suspicious of todoroki's new confidence, she was just as shocked as you were when you showed her all of the comments and messages he left you.

"let him come to you," she said.

"no, go after him! guys like it when a woman's in charge!" sero says.

"I think you just need to wait it out, let the future take its course and the universe will work it out..." says hakakure.

you decided to take hakakure's advice.

as the rest of the day went on, the sun falls and the day was still into another dark night. here you were once again, preparing to fall asleep as you wrapped yourself in your blankets. kinda hoping to have the same dream you had the night before.

growing comfortable with the silence, your phone buzzed.

eyes opening you reach out for your phone, turning it on you see that todoroki commented on your story. opening the notification transports you to your dms.

the story was just a photo of half of your face, eyes tired as it was around 30 minutes after you ran late from class today.

you finally start to read the message, word for word your heart falls to the bottom of your feet. the comment sends you into a frenzy.

@shoto: you look so tired but you're still so pretty.

that's it.

jumping out of your bed you read the clock, 10:45. it's well past curfew but you didn't care. if todoroki didn't care in his dreams, neither do you.

putting on your house shoes you race out the door.

after one elevator ride and a long walk down the hall, you arrive at the front of his door. you were about to knock on his door until you realized you were actually there.

what were you even going to say? hey I had a dream we made out in my room and I want you to stay out of my dreams and my dms? Yeah.

hands-on top of your head, you let out a quiet sigh. "shit, here goes nothing." stepping for award, you place three quick knocks on his door, staring at his name plate on the door, you gulp.

hearing some shuffling, you look down and see the lights switch on past the crack of the door. blinking, you wait anxiously. another moment passes by until the door knob starts to jiggle.

biting your lip, the door swings open. appearing a more laid-back todoroki that you've ever seen. his hair is a little messy from laying in the bed and all he has on is pajama shorts and a white t-shirt.

his eyes shift onto you, his eyes widen only a little. as a soft smirk is shown on his face. "l/n...w-what are you doing here?" Todoroki stuttered.

if you didn't mistake yourself, he almost sounded flustered to you.

"um, I just wanted to talk to you about something if that's alright. I know it's past curfew and I really shouldn't be here but I can't wait any longer" you say, a sigh passed by your lips.

Todoroki leans out the door, looking left and right, then to the security camera a door down. Quickly, he grabs you by the arm and gently pulls you into his room.

you close the door with a quiet thud, turning around you look around todoroki's dorm. it's so...empty?

the modern Japanese-style room was very much his style, he didn't really have any posters or figurines you could base any of his interests on. but that conversation is for another day.

kneeling down on the ground, you sit on your feet. hands placed on your lap, your face was unreadable. you were nervous yet so excited.

you were in todoroki's room, alone, after curfew.

"what did you want to talk about" todoroki's voice was soft. looking around you grew nervous, "well...I wanted to talk about you, and how you've been stalking my socials...and stuff? I don't know" every word you spoke grew quieter and quieter.

balling your hands into fists, you look down at the floor.

"stalking? I don't understand" he says, a frown present on his lips.

"but you do!" you blurt, your hands flung in the air which causes todoroki to jump back. you gasp, slapping your hand on your lips, you close your eyes in embarrassment. hands slowly shifting from your mouth rest on top of your eyes. "but you do todoroki," you quietly groaned out.

"the late-night notifications! do you know I get those? I see you flirt with me and compliment me and all that other stuff, I caught you almost halfway down my profile the other day todoroki."

hands still covering your face, if they were uncovered you would see the priceless pink blush dusting across todoroki's face.

"I'm...I'm sorry, I didn't know you could see that...I thought I could like and comment on things anonymously...apologies."

uncovering your eyes, you notice todoroki slightly bows, the blush still on his face. You quietly scoff, "who told you that you can anonymously comment and like things on Instagram?" you asked.

"Denki told me, he helped me set up my account as well-"

a groan escapes your lips as your body slowly sinks to a bow. "I'm going to fucking kill him!" your yell is muffled by the floor. Rising up again you frown at todoroki.

"Just...I know now that it's not your fault and you really don't know any better, but could you please stop?" you say.

"I don't understand why I should, everything that I said about you is true, I meant it l/n. I think you're so beautiful and-"

"please! I can't handle you doing all of this because if this keeps on going I'll have more dreams about you!" you yell.

"you dream about me?" todoroki asks, his voice filled with hope and adoration.

"what!" you grow warm in the face at this. stumbling up from your feet, you race for the door. Quickly opening it, you turn, giving a respective bow you quietly shut the door behind you.

Todoroki hears your quick stomps and the ringing of the elevator.

a moment passes by, smiling to himself he plops himself down into his bed.

staring at the ceiling he lets out a smug smirk.

"bullseye."

EJIRO KIRISHIMA

• was happily chilling in class looking at your tik tok until denki catches him in the act.

• was very embarrassed, but you fount it absolutely adorable.

It was another regular day inside UA, class 1-A. Everyone talking whilst doing their assignments, slowly reaching the goal of becoming the next generation of top pro heroes.

And within this class, there are the slackers.

And that slacker is Kirishima.

Slouched down in his seat, his phone hidden under his desk as he scrolled relentlessly through your tik tok. Hypnotized by your every act.

Sometimes he would chuckle to himself, seeing how cute you were. Whether that be you should dance with one of your classmates. Or seeing the way you sing your heart out at one of your favorite songs.

You were everything to him.

It was an accidental infatuation, really.

One day you so happened to pop up on his for you page. Surprised, he curiously went through your page.

All 500 hundred posts to be exact. Every. Single. One.

He didn’t mean to really, he just was so amazed by you. Sometimes the people you see on a regular daily basis aren’t who they actually are.

You were more confident in yourself on your page. You were bold, loud, and funny, he never saw this side of you. Maybe in a sparring battle, but that’s only the tip of the iceberg.

Sometimes when he’s hanging out with Sero, he’ll show him a tik tok of you (from a year ago that he saved) and just go off and fawn over you. Which heavily irritated Sero.

“Look at the way they’re dancing, isn’t it cute?”

“Dude, did you know l/n had their hairs died red before they came to this school? We could’ve totally matched!”

“Have you seen l/n’s new post? It’s amazing!”

It was fine at first, Sero gets it. He’s got a crush, but now it was all he’d talk about when they’d hang out.

“Dude, why did l/n make a tik tok about having a crush on a guy in our class!” Kirishima exclaims, a worried expression plastered on his face.

“If you want them, go get 'em instead of blabbering to me about it!” He’d complain.

Kirishima rolls his eyes as he swings back and forth on Sero’s hammock. “Dude, they’d never go for me.”

Sero strummed a couple of notes on his guitar, “if you won’t tell them you like them, at least tell them you look at their tik tok all day~” Sero sarcastically sings, making a little jingle out of his rude statement.

Kirishima’s swinging comes to a halt.

God, you don’t even know he knows you have an account.

Kirishima does follow you, but on a new account, he just made up that kinda looks like a bot you’re too lazy to remove, so you just keep it.

Swallowing his spit he sits up from the hammock, “if l/n ever found out that I have their tik tok, I will off myself.”

And here we bring it back to present day.

You just posted an hour ago on tik tok.

You were doing some random hand dance with Mina at lunch. He’d watch the way you’d laugh when you or Mina would mess up. The multiple takes and the fit of laughter.

He loved the video so much, he found it so organic and personal. Like he was actually there across from the table. He smiles at the screen watching it over again.

His smile faltered only a little when he gets another notification that you posted something.

Quickly pressing the notification, Kirishima’s heart stops.

He didn’t know what song was playing, and what words you were singing. But you looked HOT.

You had an entirely new look. You transitioned from regular pajamas to a whole other cooler outfit. Kirishima bends lower into his desk, making sure that only his eyes get to get to lay on your beauty.

Kirishima likes and saves your post with the quickness. He didn’t care if he was the first ever to interact with your post. At least you know he’s not some bot.

As Kirishima soulfully enjoyed the video you posted, Denki finally walks into class. An hour late.

A scold here and there from Mr. Aizawa, and he reaches his seat. Falling down with a thud he greets his next-door seat buddy.

“What’s up, man! Dude, I couldn’t sleep last night until the early morning and then my alarm didn’t go off! I just said fuck it and took my time today” Denki vents, a defeated smile portrayed on his lips.

Looking at his friend, he noticed how hunched up he is in his seat. “Dude?” Denki says, still no reply.

Kirishima was so deep into thought whilst watching the video of you. He started to think about his deepest fantasies.

What if you sang to him like the way you sang in your tik toks? What if the both of you were a couple?

He’d imagine the dates he would take you on, the way you smile, the way you laughed, it was all worth it at the end of the day.

He’d imagine how he’d kiss you and how you’d kiss him. Arms tightly wrapped around your waist as you sat in his lap, going at it for hours until your lips were swollen and you couldn’t give away anymore more breath.

This makes Kirishima’s breath hitch, what other things would you guys do?

What if you guys were a couple until graduation? He would definitely propose to you. Imagine the wedding the both of you would plan. The reception would be beautiful.

Kirishima really started to melt when he imagines the honeymoon. He wanted to go somewhere warm and tropical, maybe the Bahamas or the Maldives. He thinks you would like the Maldives, as he would too.

A blush castes over his face as he still watches the video of you over and over again. He’d imagine the night of your honeymoon.

Can he give you children? He thought.

If you can’t, he’ll find a way that night–

“Dude!”

Kirishima jumps harshly at the loud voice that called his name.

Denki buffs out a breath, Kirishima sees Denki standing from his seat as he surrounded Kirishima.

“I’ve been calling you for the last, like, 3 minutes!” He exclaimed.

“S-sorry man, j-just deep into thought” Kirishima says. A blush was still present on his face.

“Whatever, anyways as I was saying–“ Denki sits in his chair, his eyes so happen to shoot down towards Kirishima’s phone.

Denki paused at this, a devilish grin showing on his face. “No fucking way dude! You were stalking l/n’s page!” Denki exclaims, laughing enough for everyone to hear.

“Kaminari! Detention!” Aizawa barks.

Denki didn’t even care, a smile still on his face he starts to laugh.

“Dude!” Kirishima grows red at the loud announcement Denki makes, sinking into his seat he covers his head.

“What is he doing?” A voice says.

Kirishima’s eyes shoot wide, looking behind him he blinks. Two seats behind him he noticed you, leaving out the aisle in confusion.

“L/n! Get up, get up, get up! Kirishima’s stalking your freakin tik tok!” Denki laughs. Your bottom lips was pursed out, you were still confused as to what was happening as you slowly gained height out of your seat.

You were walking towards him, oh god.

Kirishima was so embarrassed that his hands were on his face the whole time. He didn’t even realize that his phone was on his desk still playing the video you posted over and over again.

Placing your hands on the two desks behind Kirishima and Denki, you crouch down. “What’s going on?” You say, you were also quiet. As he would assume no one really knows of your tik tok like that but him and a select few.

“Kirishima stalks your!–“ before he could finish, you slapped your hand on top of his mouth. “Quietly!” You whispered.

Uncovering your hand Denki leans down into your ear, telling you about how Kirishima was watching a tik tok of you over and over again. Looking over you eye Kirishima down.

Kirishima swallows his spit as he uncovers his face, the red blush still painted on his face like red roses sprawled out within a garden.

“H-here” he trembles. Reaching for his phone he extends it to you. With a fierce snatch, you scroll through your tik tok, seeing that he at least liked or saved all of your most recent posts. You didn’t even want to know how far this goes down.

You scrolled some more until you stopped on a particular post. “You’ve seen this one, Kirishima?” You asked. Holding the phone out, he leans in staring at the screen.

“Y-yes” he stuttered.

It was the tik tok of you talking about you having a crush on a guy in your class. Letting out a sigh, you stand back up.

“You wanna know who it is?” You say. Kirishima pursed up at your question, his head shaking with a shy nod.

Smiling you reach down, closing the space between the both of you. You grab the back of his neck, which makes Kirishima let out a jagged breath.

Falling close to his ear, you whispered.

“You really wanna know?” You teased.

You could hear Kirishima swallow his spit hard, and he nods again. “Yes—I do” he whispers.

“It’s you.”

Kirishima’s eyes snap wide open, snapping his neck towards your face, he sees you let out a giggle. He shoots up from his seat. Walking backward he stumbled out of the classroom.

Before you could chase him out, you hear a loud thud.

“Kirishima just passed out!” You hear Momo shout.

If Kirishima died today…

He’d die a happy man.

Omg, guys, thank you all so much for all the support and new follows!!! I just saw my post show up third on one of the Bakugo hashtags! And some of my posts were recommended under others. I’m so happy right now.

– lovelyiida<3

[californiaboytoybilly]

Eddie Munson would like to think that years of hunting monsters had taught him to be incredibly aware of his surroundings.

Over those years, lots of things- both of the human and creepy-crawly variety- had tried to get the jump on him and they always either ended up unconscious, or dead.

However, he must have missed something this time.

Pointed fingertips dig into his throat as his back hit the wall hard, enough to feel the aftershock rattle through his bones. The breath was punched out of him in one smooth whoosh.

His eyes shot to his attacker as he tried to rapidly calculate how to get loose.

“Got you.” The man purred. For the briefest moment, he almost could have passed as human with his golden skin and blue eyes, impossibly big and gleaming in the dim alleyway.

Gleaming like a cat’s eyes.

Not human. Vampire. Fuck.

“I will rip your head from your fucking neck—“ Eddie snarled, kicking out with his loose leg. He might as well have kicked a bag of flour for all the good it did him.

“Oh, I’d really rather you didn’t. I’m pretty fond of his head, especially attached.” A second voice chimed in from the other side of the alleyway, earning a snort from the creature who had him trapped.

“You’d just miss my tongue, sweetheart.” He said without hesitating, lips curling into a grin. His sharp teeth glinted. Eddie felt his panic spike as the other figure started to come into focus. He tried to suck in a breath, the hand on his neck a little too tight.

After everything he’d survived— everything he’d done and learned— he was going to be some vampire couples fuckin’ Happy Meal while they flirted over his cooling corpse.

“Mm, maybe. Now come on, Bils. Stop playing with your food, I want to go home.” The other creature stepped free of the shadows at last, studying his nails like a bored trust fund baby.

No, not nails. Claws.

He was tall, athletic in build and covered in lean bands of muscle. A trail of thick, dark hair disappeared into cut off denim shorts, which in literally any situation where his life wasn’t at stake he might’ve been distracted by. His amber eyes were lazily trained on Eddie and the vampire ‘Bils’ and there was a dog collar- with tags- around his throat.

A werewolf? Eddie’s baffled eyes darted between the two. He’d never seen a vampire and a werewolf in the same space unless they were trying to rip each other into tiny, bloody shreds.

What the fuck?

At least he got to see something new as a send off. Very little surprised him in general anymore.

“But he’s feisty. That’s half the fun, Stevie.” The bloodsucker honest to god pouted as he looked back over his shoulder at his partner, who just sighed.

“I’ll do that thing you li-“ Wolfy started, raising an eyebrow.

“Done. Deal.” That only earned him a bark of laughter in response.

Eddie, who’d been slowly getting his arm closer to the sharp dagger hidden in the holster on his belt, suddenly had the vampire’s full attention back on him.

“It’s a waste though. He’s kind of pretty.” He said, venom-sweet breath washing over Eddie’s face as he leaned in. The other one crossed to where they stood. Eddie flinched as a warm hand skimmed over his shoulder and into his hair, claws leaving a tingling trail in their wake.

“He is…” Stevie agreed, starting to sound a little foggy. Eddie felt the tension drain from his body, against his will. As he felt the sharp scratch of fangs on his throat, he sent a quiet apology to Wayne. Those razor sharp teeth cut his skin like butter, making him yelp out in pain. As ripples of euphoria began to spread from his throat to the rest of his body, he heard one last thing come from the werewolves' mouth. "Maybe we can keep him, if you don't make a complete mess of him anyway." Eddie Munson- from hunter to prized show poodle, he thought sardonically as his brain started to swim. And that's when he lost the battle against unconsciousness.

[madzlang]

okay, this is finally part 2 for ‘Bread, Croissants, and a Date’

thank you all for your amazing comments about parts 1 ♥️♥️ love you all so much

Bread, Croissants, and a Date

Part 2

simon riley x fem!reader smut

summary: reader misses simon while he’s away for work, so she decides to show him, just how much she missed him when he comes back

warnings: smut obviously, i have no idea how cats act bc i’ve never owned one so all those cat lovers, have fun reading my abomination of writing how a cat is (yes, this deserves a warning), loads of consent (like a lot), oral (f receiving), a bit of overstim, unprotected sex, way longer than i thought it was gonna be

Simon quietly closed the door behind him, his eyes darting to the clock in the room as he locked the door.

3:12 it read. In the morning.

He groaned quietly as their small white cat ran over to them, scratching at his shoe.

“What’re you still doing up, huh? Protecting mama, yeah?” He asked quietly, picking up the cat as she purred.

He scratched her back for a few seconds before it started scratching at him, begging in it’s silent cat language to release her. “Yeah, yeah, okay.” He mumbled, putting the cat back down onto the hardwood flooring, watching as it ran away to her cat tree.

He scoffed, shaking his head. “Fuckin’ hates me.” He grumbled, taking off his boots and peeling his balaclava off, going to throw it on the couch before he saw his girlfriend of a year, laying there, sleeping soundly, wearing a jumper that belonged to him and comfy shorts.

He quietly walked over, sitting down in the armchair next to the couch, staring at her as she slept, his hand reaching out to stroke her hair.

“Missed you, lovie.” He whispered, swearing under his breath when her eyes started fluttering open and she turned around, squinting up at him.

“Si?” She mumbled sleepily, rubbing her eyes.

“Hey, sweetheart. Sorry for waking you up.” He muttered, still playing with her hair.

As soon as he spoke, she sat up and jumped on him like she wasn’t sleeping a few moments ago, wrapping her arms around his neck and legs around his waist.

“Missed you so much, Si.” She mumbled into his neck, sniffling a bit.

He rubbed her back, closing his eyes and whispering reassuring words to her as he felt tears against his neck.

They stayed in that position for a few minutes, just hugging one another after around 2 months of being apart.

She pulled back slightly to look at his face, stroking it with her thumbs, one of them going to his cheekbone where a small cut was.

“What’s this?” She mumbled, pressing a small kiss to the cut.

“Nothing, lovie. I’m okay.” He spoke softly, rubbing her back still.

She exhaled and nodded, leaning forward to press her soft lips against his. He groaned into the kiss, his hands gripping his waist and eyes immediately closing.

“Fuck, missed the taste of you, sweetie.” He mumbled into her mouth, his large hands gripping her waist as his rough and chapped lips and her soft and plump lips melded together.

She whimpered into his lips, the thin material of her shorts not doing much to create a barrier between her pussy and the harsh material of his cargo pants.

He furrowed his brows as he felt her hips moving on his, pulling away from the kiss slightly. “Honey.. what’re you doin’?” He mumbled, gripping her hips to stop them from moving.

“Want you.” She whimpered, trying to kiss him again.

“Sweetie.. stop.” He muttered, moving away from her, dodging her lips. “Think about what you’re saying, lovie.”

“I know what I’m saying; want you. Wanna be wrapped around you.” She whined, her face moving to his neck.

He groaned quietly, a bulge forming in his trousers. “Sweetie.. you can’t.. you can’t say stuff like that.” He muttered, his eyes fluttering as he felt her grind on him again, but he didn’t stop her this time.

“Why? I want you. Want you inside me.” She mumbled, her hands gripping his shoulders.

“Wait- wait, honey.” He muttered. “You- you know what you’re saying, right? This is a big deal. I don’t want your first time to be at 3 in the morning. I want it to be special for you.”

“It will be special, Si. It will be. Because it’s with you.” She mumbled against his neck.

He exhaled and nodded. “You sure, honey?” He asked, his hands going to grip her ass.

She nodded enthusiastically. “Want you so bad, Simon.” She mumbled.

He groaned under his breath before standing up with her in his arms and walking towards the stairs, carrying her to their bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him, not wanting them to be interrupted by their cat.

Hs softly placed her down on the bed, flicking on the lamp on one of the nightstands.

“Hey, pretty girl.” He mumbled, hovering over her, his hand playing with her hair.

“Hi, Si.” She giggled softly, looking up at him.

He smiled up at her before moving down to be in between her legs, his hands playing with the cotton of her shorts.

“You’re sure about this, love?” He asked softly, his fingers slowly tugging at the waistband of her shorts.

“I’m sure, Si. Was thinking about it the whole time you were gone.” She muttered, chewing on her lips as he pulled down her cotton shorts, his thumb immediately going to touch the wet patch on her panties.

“Yeah?” He grinned up at her. “You touch yourself?” He asked lowly, leaning forward to press a short kiss to her clit through her panties.

Her hips bucked as he did so, her hands going down to grip the bedsheets.

“I asked you a question, lovie.” He spoke again, pressing another kiss in the same spot, his thumb softly rubbing against her entrance through her panties.

“I- I did.” She mumbled, her eyes clenching shut, a look of pure embarrassment on her face.

“That’s okay, sweetie.” He mumbled, keeping his tone cool even though he was freaking out inside at the thought of her touching herself as his hips were practically grinding on the bed. “Woulda loved to see it. Maybe you can show me some time, yeah?” The thought of that made Simon want to bust right then and there.

She let out a high pitched moan, her head nodding and hips bucking against his face.

“Relax, sweetie.” He mumbled against the cotton of her panties. “Just relax.” His voice was a soothing whisper as his fingers went to play with the elastic of her panties. “Can ya take my jumper off, sweetie? Wanna see you.”

She nodded her head, chewing on her lip as she sat up slightly and grabbed the hem of the jumper, pulling it over her head, revealing that she was wearing nothing underneath it.

He immediately let out a groan at the sight of her bare torso. She continued chewing on her lip, seeing and hearing his reaction. She nervously covered her chest with her hands, looking down at the bed.

“No, no, honey. Don’t cover up. Wanna see you.” He grumbled, moving up from in between her legs to sit next to her, his hands going to her arms, holding them as they covered her chest.

She looked up into his eyes, the dim lighting of the lamp casting a light yellow glow over them.

“Please?” He begged, looking at her with sparkling, dark brown eyes.

She continued chewing on her lip before she dropped her arms, showing off her chest once more.

He groaned again, biting his lip as he stared at her chest. He quickly grabbed her waist and picked her up, propping her up on his lap, she she was straddling his hips and facing him, her tits practically in his face.

His head went to her neck, inhaling her scent, his large hands gripping her waist. He peppered small kisses all over her neck, sucking a few small hickeys into the soft skin. His hands slowly trailed up her body to brush over his ribs, then splaying them across her chest, his thumbs resting on her nipples, making her bite her lip and moan softly.

“Si-.” She whimpered, her eyes fluttering shut.

He propped her up even more before leaning down and attaching his lips to one of her nipples, sucking and licking it.

She moaned even louder, her hands going to grip his blond hair as he licked and sucked at her nipple, his eyes closed as if he was feasting on her.

“So gorgeous. Taste so good.” He groaned into her chest, his hands gripping her waist.

She whimpered, burying her head into his hair, clenching her teeth together as he moved to the other nipple, sucking on it.

After a few moments of him paying all his attention to her chest, he finally pulled her away and flipped them around, so she was on her back, laying beneath him on the bed.

She gasped softly, looking up at him wide with eyes.

“My beautiful princess.” He mumbled, playing with a strand of her hair as he hovered over her. He ran his hand over her almost bare body, until it stopped on her panties. “I’m gonna take these off, okay?” He mumbled to her, pressing kisses on her cheek.

She nodded, biting her lip softly. “Words princess. And stop biting your lip, you’re gonna make it bleed.” He mumbled, pulling her bottom lip out from under her teeth with his thumb.

“Please. Please take them off.” She mumbled, her hands going to rest on his cargo military gear on his chest.

He smiled into her cheek, kissing it before tugging on her panties and taking them off.

His fingers immediately went to press against her folds softly, rubbing her clit with his thumb.

She whimpered, chewing on her lip before she mumbled out: “Can- can you take your clothes off too, please?”

He smiled at her before he nodded, his hands peeling off his camo jacket, leaving him in a tight, black tank top and cargo pants.

She inhaled deeply, her hands reaching up to run over his torso, tracing the intricate details of his tattoos on his left arm before moving down to the waistband of his pants, untucking the tight tank top and pulling it over his head.

He grinned down at her as her hands rubbed his now bare chest, his own hands going down to unbutton his cargo pants, unzipping them. He tugged them down his legs, practically throwing them across the room, only leaving him in his boxers, that had a visible bulge in them.

Her jaw almost dropped at the sight of the large bulge in his black boxers. “Si.. I don’t- I don’t think you’ll fit.” She mumbled, her mind going 200 miles per hour.

“I’ll fit, lovie.” He mumbled back, leaning down to kiss her neck softly.

“I don’t think it will.” She stuttered out, her hands reaching up to rest on his back.

“I’ll be okay.” He whispered, reaching down to take off his boxers too, making her eyes snap down when she heard the quiet slap of his dick hitting his stomach, making her jaw actually drop this time.

“Si, it won’t fit, I know it.” She muttered, her eyes glued to his dick.

“You want me to stop, honey? We don’t have to do anything tonight.” He spoke into her ear, his tone soft and loving, his large hand stroking her stomach.

She looked up at him, gazing into his eyes for a few moments before she shook her head. “No, I want to do it.” She inhaled shakily.

“You sure?” He asked softly, making her nod enthusiastically.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” He smiled down at her before moving down to be in between her legs once again, pressing kisses against her thighs, making sure to pay extra attention to the stretch marks, freckles, and moles that scattered across the expanse of her thighs, slowly getting closer to her pussy that was practically dripping wet.

He inhaled deeply before sticking his tongue out and licking up the slit of her pussy making her immediately let out a shaky moan, gripping his hair.

He moaned into her in response, his crooked nose softly brushing against her clit as he got closer to her pussy, his hands gripping her thighs, burying his head in between her thighs.

“Taste so good.” He moaned into her, making her legs shake from the vibration, his tongue thrusting in and out of her leaking hole.

Her back arched as his nose pressed into her clit, his lips and tongue attached to her entrance.

“Si.. Si, I feel close already.” She whined, gripping his hair.

He didn’t respond, he only gripped her thighs tighter and threw them over his shoulders, burying his face even more into her.

“Oh, please!” She whined out, her legs shaking and body convulsing as she came all over his face.

She expected him to stop and move away, but he just stayed latched to her, swiping his tongue up and down her pussy, moving his attention to her clit.

She let out a shaky whimper, her hands gripping the bed sheets as he stuck his middle finger inside of her.

“Si-Simon!” She moaned out.

He hummed into her, curling his finger up to press against a spot inside her that made her vision go white, eyes roll into the back of her head, and cum over his face again.

“Mm, so sensitive.” He mumbled against her, his mouth making a slurping sound as he licked and sucked on her.

“Oh, God, Simon!” She whined, her hands gripping his hair. “Stop, stop, too much.” She mumbled, to which he licked one last stripe up her pussy before lowering her hips back onto the bed.

“You okay, honey?” He asked softly, licking his bottom lip and brushing some of her hair out of her face.

She looked up at him with hazy eyes, nodding slowly. “Yeah, ‘m okay, Si.” She whispered.

“You think you’re ready for my cock?” He asked, his soft tone a stark contrast to his words.

She chewed on her lip before nodding. “Yeah… just go slow.” She whispered.

He smiled, pressing a sweet kiss to her lips before moving his hand down to align himself with her entrance, swiping it up and down a few times to get it coated in her arousal before pressing the tip of his dick against her slit and slowly pushing it in.

His head dropped down to her shoulder, slowly moving inside inch by inch.

After a few moments of him pressing himself inside her, she whispered. “Wait, wait.”

He immediately halted his movements, hovering over her to look at her face.

“You okay, sweetie?” He asked softly.

“Yeah, just- just gotta adjust a bit.” She mumbled.

He nodded, nuzzling against her cheek, pressing soft kisses to it.

After a few moments she nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I’m okay now.”

He pressed another kiss to her cheek. “Just another few inches, honey.” He whispered before slowly moving inside her again.

Her eyes opened wide, her jaw dropping slightly. “You’re not in all the way?”

He laughed softly, shaking his head. “Barely halfway, lovie.” He muttered, looking down and focusing on moving inside her slowly.

She sighed, leaning her head back to rest on the pillows.

He continued slowly moving inside her before finally bottoming out, making him moan lowly.

“Tell me when I can move, honey.” He said lowly, pressing kisses to her neck.

She inhaled and nodded, her hands gripping his back.

After a few minutes she nodded slowly. “Yeah, you can move. Just- just go slowly.”

He inhaled sharply and nodded, slowly pulling his hips back so only the tip was inside her before thrusting back in.

She let out a high pitched moan, moving her arms to wrap around his neck.

“You okay?” He mumbled again, thrusting in and out once more.

“Yeah, yeah, ‘m okay.” She whined softly, clenching her eyes shut as he thrusted in and out of her slowly. “You- you can go faster.” She mumbled after a few moments.

He let out a guttural moan as he sped up his movements, making her also let out a loud moan, feeling his balls slap against her ass.

“Tell- fuck- tell me to slow down if you need me to.” He groaned out making her nod quickly, her hips bucking into his.

One of his hands moved down to grip her hips while the other moved to rub her clit as he continued thrusting in and out of her at his now fast pace.

Her jaw dropped, her eyes filling with tears of pleasure and legs wrapping around his waist.

“God, you’re so pretty.” He groaned, gripping her thighs and pushing them up so they were pressed against her torso, his hips quickly thrusting into her.

“Si- oh, Si, ‘m gonna cum again.” She whined, her eyes clenching shut.

“Do it. Cum all over my dick, lovie.” He groaned, thrusting in and out of her, holding back the urge to bust and cover her walls with his release.

She whined, arching her back as she came again, her legs shaking.

His hip movements didn’t falter, keeping up with the high speed pace making her moan and whine, her nails digging into his back.

“Shit- can I cum inside you, sweetie?” He asked lowly, his hips speeding up.

She whined, nodding her head. “Yeah, yeah, please.” She whined, her legs shaking again.

“You gonna cum again, honey? Already?” He asked lowly, dropping her legs so they were laying on the bed again, his hand going to rub her clit.

She whined, nodding, her nails creating red crescent marks on his back.

He groaned as he felt her clench around him as she came again, her legs and arms shaking and teeth biting into his shoulder.

He moaned lowly, his hips increasing in pace before he came inside of her, his his stuttering and his movements becoming sloppy, his jaw dropping as he thrusted his cum inside of her and let out a deep, quiet moan.

He sighed, collapsing beside her, his hand splayed across her stomach and head buried into her neck.

After a few moments of laying there he spoke quietly. “Was that okay?”

She turned to him, staring into his eyes. “That was incredible.” She whispered, leaning into his touch. He wrapped his large arm around her body as she cuddled up to him, kissing her head.

He quickly looked over to the clock on their bedside table.

4:13 it read.

He smiled and wrapped both arms around his girlfriend, pressing a sweet kiss to her neck as he hugged her.

@abbiesxox u asked to get tagged sooo ♥️♥️ there ya go lovely

[schlattsdoll]

Lunch club schlatt constantly being mean to reader and one day they just finally snap and yell at him and he just remains silent and then when they’re alone he pins them to a wall and is just like “oh you wanna be brave and yell at me,huh? You don’t seem so brave anymore, toots” and just fucks them stupid

-◼️

◾️i love your brain !!!! minors dni

it was like clockwork for schlatt to bully you. you don’t know why you were even friends with him when all he did was insult you for some reason or another. he caught you on a rough day and you just about had it.

“enoughs efuckingnough johnathan! why do you have to fuckin’ bully me constantly i’m sick of it!” you screamed as he quipped another joke at your expense. he looked shocked but his jaw closed and he smirked, pinning you against the nearest wall. “oh look at you, big tough girl. bein’ all brave. what’s wrong toots? cat got your tongue? you don’t seem so brave now beneath me like this.”

his eyes darted down to your lips as he licked his own. schlatt’s mouth dove down to kiss you fiercely. your body melts into his, as you kiss him back, matching his ferocity. when you two finally break apart, you’re completely baffled. did he bully you because he liked you and didn’t know how to express his emotions? probably

you grabbed his face and kissed him again quickly. “what was that about me not being brave anymore?”

“oh don’t worry doll. when i’m done with you, you’re lucky if you remember your name.”

[joelmillershole]

not gonna stop me

dbf!joel x reader

warnings: mention of sex, very brief mention of death, dbf!joel, age gap (reader is 25, joel is late 40s), pet names (baby, sweetheart, honey), getting caught, established relationship, no use of y/n

word count: 2.6k

summary: Of course a tree would fall on your dad’s house during a storm on a night Joel, your dad’s best friend, decided to sleep over. And of course Joel would be the one to open the door when your dad came over to your apartment at six in the morning because of it. 

a/n: first joel fic so please let me know of any issues or comments about his character! I’m planning on writing more about this particular joel/reader, both the before and after of this scenario. just couldn’t get this scene out of my head. also, the incorrect use of “your” is intentional in this I promise I know the difference

 At the same time your phone pinged with a Ring doorbell notification, a loud chirp that roused you from sleep and sent you shooting up in panic, came a heavy and deliberate knock at your front door. Both sounds sent the sleeping body next to you stirring as well. Joel’s warm hand reached out to you from beneath the covers, searching for some part of you to grab. 

 “Who is it?” he grunted, words slurring together from a mix of accent and sleep. 

 “‘Ion know,” you slurred back, rubbing your eyes. The digital clock on the wall read barely six in the morning. “D’you wanna go check? Or hand me my phone so I can look at the app?” Your phone sat on his side of the bed, plugged in. There wasn’t a close enough outlet on your side to keep it next to you at night. 

 He seemed to consider it for a moment too long, so long you thought he might have fallen back asleep. Finally, he murmured, “No, baby, just c’mere. Come back to me.” 

 His hand found your wrist and pulled you back down, under the thick comforter, and towards him until your back laid flush with his chest. His arms enveloped you and held you close and tight. Nose nuzzling into your neck, Joel murmured, “Go back to sleep. We ’ont have to get up for a few hours. ‘M sure they’ll go away--” 

 Another knock, this one louder. Your phone vibrated on the nightstand. 

 “Joel, just hand me my phone so I can see--” 

 “No,” he huffed into your ear. His warm breath caused a shiver to run down your spine. “Who in their right fuckin’ mind is bangin’ on your door this fuckin’ early?” 

 You loved when Joel slept over. He did it a couple of times a week, usually when he didn’t have to wake up early for work. You enjoyed keeping your apartment cool at night, and when he came over, it was like having a built-in furnace in your bed. Before you started your little… arrangement, you would never have pegged him for a cuddler. However, sleeping Joel did not know how to let you go -- he slept either spooning you, his arms wrapped around your middle, or when he got uncomfortable and wanted to turn the other way, pulled you with him so you could koala-wrap yourself around his back. If all else failed, he wanted you on top of him, your cheek pressed to his chest. 

 You’d never been with someone so cuddly at night. It was a stark difference from the way you first found yourself entangled with him. Sex with Joel was always rough and hard and left your limbs trembling. Having him so intimate and relaxed with you felt like a boon sometimes. 

 The knock sounded a third time, this beat with what sounded like the flat of a fist instead of knuckles. A bang, really. With a growl, Joel unwrapped himself from your body and threw off the comforter. You watched him from your spot, not moving to follow, as he grabbed his previously-discarded shirt and pajama pants off the floor next to the bed and pulled them on, grumbling the entire time. 

 “‘M gonna go yell at that fucker,” he said, stepping over your cat, who darted in between his legs on their way to open the bedroom door and flick on the hallway light. “Move, cat.” 

 While he stomped his way to the front door, you reached across the cooling empty space to unplug your phone. You squinted at the bright screen in the former pre-dawn pitch of the room. The Ring alert was secondary to the first notification, which unraveled a series of texts from your dad, the first one from around one in the morning and the last one sent about a minute ago. 

You awake baby? 

Supposed to be bad storms tonight. Wanted to make sure your okay 

You and that damn cat of yours stay safe tonight baby call if you need anything

 Only after his first couple of texts did you realize it was indeed raining outside. And hard. 

Hey I know your asleep but a tree fell on the house 

The big oak from the backyard 

I’m inviting myself over to wait out the storm hope thats ok. 

I’m here 

Wake up open up

 Fuck. You voiced it. “Fuck,” you whispered. The big oak from the backyard? That tree was huge. It had to have messed up the house big time if your dad invited himself over. He’s always valued your privacy over anything and felt bad for even coming to hang out for a couple of hours at your apartment. You moved out of his house a few months ago, insisting that it was time you get your own place. That was the only reason you and Joel even ended up together. If you were still living with your dad, you doubted anything would have happened between you two. 

 Your eyes widened at the reminder of Joel. Bigger fuck. “Fuck,” you hissed again, your turn to throw back the covers and yank on your pajama pants. “Joel,” you called, desperation evident in your tone. “Joel, wait, don’t open the--” 

 The door. You heard the click of the locks and then the slide of the hinges. You heard Joel’s sleep-heavy, gruff voice grunt out, “Can I help you?” just as the door cracked open and you stumbled into the living room a few feet behind him. 

 Your dad stood before the door, his brows knotted in confusion at the sight of his best friend opening the door to his daughter’s apartment. At barely six in the morning. With pillow-tousled hair and no socks or shoes, pajama pants on, and your cat tucked snugly and comfortably in between his legs. Your testy and oftentimes fractious cat, who hated strangers and barely tolerated even your father. 

 “Joel?” Your dad questioned, confusion lacing his voice. His brows knit even deeper. “Joel?” he said again, more intently. “What the hell?” 

 Joel stood there, frozen, hand still on the doorknob. He seemed to be at a loss for words. In any other situation, you would laugh; Joel Miller, speechless? That was definitely a phenomenon for the books. 

 But not this situation. You stood off to the back for a second, not knowing what to do. What was the protocol for this? What were you supposed to do, to say? You saw your dad start to get angry and rushed forward, putting a hand on Joel’s chest to push him away. 

 “Dad,” you said, a little breathless. “Hey. Um. Good morning.” 

 He didn’t say anything, just stared at Joel, who stared back, face pale and unmoving. You snapped your fingers in your dad’s face to get his attention. 

 “Dad,” you said again. He looked at you this time, lips pressed tightly together. “Just come inside, it’s fuckin’ storming out there.” 

 He didn’t say anything else as you dragged him inside by his arm, closing and locking the door behind him. Joel and your dad stared at each other wordlessly while you stood off to the side, unsure how to snap the tension without everything unraveling all at once. Truly the worst case scenario. 

 The truth was, you were planning on telling your dad sometime soon. Ish. You didn’t like keeping secrets from him. Ever since your mom passed when you were young, you and your dad had always been more like best friends than anything else. Best friends that looked out for each other, rather than just your dad looking out for you. Which might have been a dynamic that a lot of people would find exhausting -- however, it just felt natural to you. He’d always said you’d been too independent for your own good. Even so, he’d teared up a bit when you moved the last box from your old room to your new apartment. 

 Joel caved first. He cleared his throat, trying to rid his voice of its sleepy gravel. “Hey, man, listen--” 

 “What the fuck, Joel?” your dad snapped. “Are you fuckin’ serious?” 

 You took a step forward, trying to get in between them. “Dad--” 

 He held up a hand to you. “Don’t. I’on want to hear it from you.” He jerked his chin towards Joel. “Wanna hear it from him.” 

 Joel lifted a hand to rub his beard, face contorted in a grimace. “What do you want me to say?” he asked. His voice sounded tight, tense. 

 “Start with what the fuck you’re doing here at six in the goddamn morning. At my daughter’s apartment. In your fuckin’ pajamas.” 

 You threw your head back with a groan. “What does it look like, Dad? He was sleeping over. C’mon, I know that’s obvious.” 

 “Why the hell were you sleeping over.” 

 Joel kept rubbing his beard. Must be a nervous tick or something. You’d never seen him nervous (before now, at least), so you wouldn’t know for sure. “I didn’t want you to find out like this,” was all he said. 

 A beat of silence. You inched your way in front of Joel, facing your dad, like you were shielding him. In a way, you were; your dad had a right to be a bit peeved, you guessed, but since you were well past the stage of “Consenting Adult” and you even had your own place, he couldn’t have much to say. 

 “I didn’t want you to, either,” you said. “I was meaning to tell you soon, I just… didn’t know how to bring it up.” When your dad said nothing, just kept glancing back and forth between Joel and you, you continued. “Dad, Joel and I have been… seeing each other. For a little bit. It’s nothing weird--” 

 “Sounds fuckin’ weird, Joel,” your dad muttered through clenched teeth, ignoring you. “She’s a fuckin’ kid--” 

 “No.” You held up a hand, scowling. “I’m not. I’m twenty-five. I’m a full-ass adult.” When he didn’t acknowledge you, you snapped again. “Look at me when I’m talkin’ to you, Dad. Not at Joel.” 

 Your dad, finally, looked at you. 

 “I’m sorry we didn’t say anything sooner, but we only been seeing each other for a couple months. Just since a little after I moved out. Nothing happened before that on either side, so don’t get weird about it like that. Please.” You held his gaze for a moment. “I didn’t know you were coming over. If I had, I wouldn’t’ve sprung this on you like this.” 

 Your dad grunted. “I texted you. About comin’ over ‘cuz of the tree.” 

 “What tree?” Joel said. 

 Your dad just stared at him. 

 “The oak in the backyard,” you explained for him after a beat of awkward silence. “It fell on the house from the storm. I didn’t see the text until just now.” 

 Joel got out a strained, “I’m sorry, man.” Your dad didn’t reply, only kept staring at his friend. “Lemme help you fix it up. Once it’s done stormin’ outside.” 

 Silence again. You rolled your eyes and turned away, heading for the linen closet in the hallway. “Dad, I’mma set up the couch for you. You been up all night.” Grabbing a spare pillow and a few blankets, you carried them over to your couch and began setting up a small pallet. 

 Behind you, Joel’s footsteps echoed down into your room, the soft pattering of your cat following. Your dad sat at the edge of the couch and watched you unfold the blankets. 

 “I’m gonna head out,” Joel said, emerging from the bedroom once more. You glanced over your shoulder at him. He had his shoes and jacket on, keys dangling from his finger. “Let y’all talk a bit. Jus’ be over at my house.” 

 You narrowed your eyes at him. His already-present frown deepened, and you decided not to press it. Not with your dad here. 

 “‘Kay,” you said. “Drive safe. It’s storming.” 

 He nodded. “I’ll call you.” 

 And then he left, your cat meowing at his absence immediately after the door closed. The scrape of the key in the lock sounded and the deadbolt clicked into place, Joel locking the door after himself. 

 Your dad turned to you with a raised brow. “I see he has a key.” 

 “God.” You threw your hands in the air. “He does.” 

 “And that damn cat seems to like him an awful lot.” 

 She did. She’d been obsessed with him since she met him. She liked him a thousand times more than she liked you; she cuddled with him at night, sat on his lap during TV or movie night, and followed him around wherever he went. If he closed the bathroom door before she joined him inside, she would sit in front of it and yowl until he opened it again. 

 “I think she likes him more than me.” You waited a beat. “What are you thinking?” 

 Your dad shook his head, hands rising to rub at his temples. “Baby, I don’t -- I’m too tired for this conversation right now. I haven’t even slept yet.” You nodded and stood up to let him get some rest, about to retire to your room and call Joel. His voice stopped you mid-motion. “He treating you right, at least?” 

 Your expression softened. “Of course he is.” You sat back down, knees touching your dad’s leg and legs folded underneath you. “It’s nothing weird, Dad. I promise.” 

 “How… how did it start? Do I even wanna know?” 

 You laughed. “Remember when I bought that Ikea furniture after I first moved in? The dresser and bookshelf?” 

 He thought for a moment. His brows lifted in recognition. “Yeah, I do.” 

 “You were out of town for a week for work. I needed them set up but didn’t have a drill. You told me to ask Joel, so I did, and we just got to talkin’. Just realized we got on pretty well.” You shrugged. “Been getting on pretty well since, I guess.” 

 Your dad nodded. “It’s gonna take me a minute to get used to this, baby. And I still gotta talk with him first, too. It’s different with me ‘n him.” 

 “Okay, Dad. I understand. Just as long as you don’t kill him or something.” You patted his shoulder, standing again. “I’m gonna go back to sleep for a bit, okay? You get some sleep, too.” 

 You retreated back to your bedroom, waiting for your cat to follow you before closing the door. As soon as you slid back into bed, you unlocked your phone and sent a text to Joel. 

u home? 

 His reply came quickly. 

Yeah

Just got home

 You pressed the button to call him. He picked up on the first ring, gruff voice sounding muffled through the line. 

 “Hey, sweetheart.” 

 “Hi, Joel.” Your voice sounded small. “It’s gonna be okay, I think.” 

 “You talk to your old man?” 

 “A lil’. He’s gonna talk with you.” You paused. “I wish you didn’t leave.” 

 A sigh. “I know, honey. But it’s for the best right now. We’ll take it slow while your dad is there. Sucks about the house -- I’ll hav’ta get my guys to help patch it up once the rain’s over.” 

 You nodded before you realized he couldn’t see you. “Okay. I’m gonna sleep some more, okay?” 

 “Okay, honey. I’ll talk to you later. Sleep well.” 

 You smiled. “You too, Joel. Bye-bye.” 

 The soft beeps through the speaker indicated he hung up. You rolled onto your other side, facing the side of the bed he normally sleeps on. Your cat sat in his spot, tail flicking in irritation, eyes reflecting the soft light from in between the blinds. 

 “Shut it,” you murmured, closing your eyes. “He’ll be back with you soon.” 

[zablife]

Hi Lee! Hope you’re well! ☺️

Sooo….seeing your moodboard got me thinking about the lovely new John x Solomons!sister pairing and I was thinking………

I love their friendship and the bond that they’ve built off of banter but I wonder if there was ever a moment where things slipped into something more?? Like they were on a tough mission, or things got a little too close for comfort where one was almost hurt and they acted on the more promiscuous feelings that they’ve been otherwise teasingly (maybe they’re not teasing in nature, who knows) throwing around — like there’s so much emotion circulating between them because they’re so close with each other that they just slip … ??

And it could be a one off thing that they then dance around because they were caught in the heat of them moment, or it could be what tilts them into that realm — I’d be intrigued to read either way because I just love them.

Anyways…sorry for rambling…I hope what I’ve said makes sense! 😊

Shots Fired (Partners in Crime AU)

John Shelby x Y/n Solomons

Author's Note: Read previous parts Afternoon Tea and Co-Workers.

“Barney, wait!” you shouted, stumbling from the pub where you’d been celebrating Tommy’s win at the races. John had disappeared some time ago and you’d been looking for him ever since, hoping to win more of his money at darts.

“Y/n, is that you screeching like a bloody alley cat?” John asked, turning toward the sound of your voice.

Only the glowing end of his cigar was visible through the evening fog as you pawed for him to hold yourself upright. 

Grasping his coat sleeve you nearly toppled over as you giggled, “Would you look at that, I went lookin’ for trouble and I found him!” 

“You’re drunk,” John observed, pulling you to your feet.

“Your ma’s drunk!” you retorted with a snort. 

“Alright, I’m taking you home,” John said, steering you toward his car by your elbow. God only knew what you’d get up to if he left you by yourself in Sabini’s territory and he’d be the one Alfie blamed if something happened.

“Not if I escape,” you whispered loudly, and quite obnoxiously, into his ear. Then you broke free of his grasp and ran in the opposite direction as quickly as your wobbly legs would allow.

“Y/n! M not chasing you,” John warned, clenching his cigar in his teeth and shoving his hands in his pockets. As he lost sight of you he growled in frustration, kicking the pavement. “Fuckin hell,” he cursed under his breath as he tossed his cigar aside, knowing he would have to break his promise. 

He set out in long strides, looking out from under his cap with a scowl at the thought of playing hide and seek. Occasionally he heard the click of your heels or a peel of laughter echoing down an alley and he knew he was getting close. As he was about to call to you for the second time, gunshots rang out and his heart clenched in his chest.

Pulling his revolver from under his jacket, he pressed himself against the side of the building where he stood and cautiously made his way toward the noise. Tires squealed as a coupe raced away into the night and John broke into a run, a sick feeling of dread washing over him.

His suspicions were confirmed as he approached you, lying in a pool of blood under a street lamp. “Shit! Y/n!” He called out, sliding next to you to see where you’d been hurt. When you didn’t respond, he began removing your coat, hands roaming over your body for the source of your injury. 

When his eyes came to rest at the crimson stain blooming over your chest he began to panic, clawing at your beaded dress to assess the damage. He pressed his ear to your mouth to listen for your breath, but only heard his own frantic heartbeat jumping into his throat at the thought of losing you. 

At that moment your eyes fluttered opened and you gasped for air, sputtering, “You grabbin’ my tit?”

John fell backward from shock, landing on his ass. “What the fuck, Y/n? I thought you were dead!” he gulped, running a shaky hand through his hair.

You let out a strangled laugh, followed by a groan of pain as you attempted to roll over. “Jesus Christ!” you yelled.

John winced as he exclaimed, “Do you know you’ve got the loudest voice of any human being I’ve ever met?” 

“Happy to know my lungs work though, ain’t ya?” you asked with a weak smile. 

“What are callin’ him for anyway?” he mumbled, placing pressure on your shoulder as soon as he realized that’s where the bullet had entered. 

You wanted to say something clever in return, but the loss of blood was making you woozy, giving the world around you a dreamlike quality. The lamplight made a halo above John’s head and you blinked to right your blurry vision. “You’re an angel,” you remarked at your delusion, focusing on the fading glow surrounding him.

“Now I know we’re fucked,” he joked. “That’s the only nice thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Watching the edges of John’s face darken forebodingly, fear gnawed at you and you briefly wondered if you might die. Your fingers reached for him, needing comfort, but your arm stubbornly refused to move. “Might be the last,” you warned him before you passed out in his arms.

——————————————————-

When you came to you were in a hospital bed, John’s profile staring ahead as his hands twisted his cap nervously. Your arm throbbed with pain as you rolled toward him and he startled, offering hushed apologies. “I’m sorry, Y/n. I shouldn’t have let you go off alone like that. If anyone should’ve taken a bullet, it’s me,” he said, looking at you with red, watery eyes. The guilt had been eating at him as he sat waiting for you to wake, hoping you’d forgive him for not protecting you.

“No, I’m glad it was me,” you choked out.

“Hey, hey, don’t say that,” John hushed you, pushing the hair from your face. “You didn’t deserve any of this.”

You tried to sit up, looking at him incredulously. “I didn’t mean I deserved it!” you exclaimed, scrunching your nose in disapproval. “I meant cos you’re a fucking candy ass,” you chuckled at him. 

Irritated by the suggestion, John’s voice rose defensively, “You think you took a bullet better than me?”

“I know I did and I won’t be whinging about how it looks either.” Lowering your voice to imitate his low timber you continued, “Oh, me face! If it hadn’t been for that shrapnel in France…” 

Your chat was interrupted when the door to your room opened with a quick push and a nurse peeked in to check on you, her bright smile widening at the sight of John.

“You should fuck her,” you said a bit too loudly, the after effects of the morphine still clouding your judgment. “I ain’t his trouble, love! You fancy him?” you called to her, oblivious to the fact that the poor woman was now turning a deep shade of red.

“Alright, that’s enough,” John said, pushing you back against the pillows.

“He doesn’t have the clap….anymore,” you shouted as the nurse scurried away. John dragged a hand down his face. 

“That’s how you thank me for saving your life?” he asked wearily, raising his eyebrows at you.

“Pffft, can’t kill me,” you said dismissively. “You’re such a dramatic little cunt, Shelby” you added with a roll of your eyes.

John huffed out a laugh. “Good to see you're feeling like yourself again. Last night I was your angel, remember?”

“Well I was dying, weren’t I?” you said innocently, pulling your blankets to your chin.

“For fuck sake,” John muttered.

Read Part 4-The Runaway

[jev-urisk]

OC Deep Dive Tag ✨

@the-golden-comet may be a pirate-wrangler, but I'm the one who keeps stealing their tag games. 🏴‍☠️

Oh y'all know I'm starting with Kazimier from 🌐7 Circles🌐

I am however adding a cut bc some of this is pretty spoiler-y. 🙊

Phobias: Hemophobia (his own blood, specifically), medical needles. People whose lust tastes of sadism.

Other fears: IVs, feeling not in control, being drugged, being poisoned, getting cut/stabbed, healthy fear of death. Fear of falling in love.

Pet peeves: Naivety, 'baby-talking', clingy people, sometimes even having sex is a peeve.

3 items in their bedroom: Something to lounge on like a chaise, garish clothing, a lot of rope.

First thing they notice in a person: The sound of their voice/how they pronounce things, the way their face moves as they talk.

Scale of 1 to 10, how high is their pain tolerance?: Hmmm...4.

Do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure? Freeze, followed by fight, flight, fawn (fakely), or fuck.

Do they have a big family/are they a family person?: Does being in a gang at age 10 count as being adopted into a family? Could be a family person if he let himself care about people like that.

What animal represents them? A cat. So particular, weirdly hyperfocused sometimes, likes toying with vermin, can't tell if he'll roll with you giving him attention or try to claw you.

What is a smell they dislike? Cleaning solution

Broken any bones? Maybe, he's almost 300 so it would be a miracle if he hadn't yet.

How would a stranger describe them? Each stranger would describe a completely different person. Kazimier is a shapeshifter. If a stranger somehow saw his 'neutral' form, they'd say he looks fuckin' weird. Horns, green hair, mis-matched eyes of red and green, strange red markings on his cheeks, fangs, black claws, dressed like an 80s rockstar and has this crooked smirk on his face... the fuck?

Night owl or a morning bird? Night? The place he comes from, Du'Preve, barely has a day and night, it's always pretty dark.

A flavor they hate and a flavor they love? Hates sadism, loves desperation. (Kaz is an incubus, and you can discern those feelings from the taste of their lust)

Any hobbies? Sewing (very helpful for a shapeshifter), games like chess, billiards, darts, clue- anything that keeps his mind engaged. Also enjoys doing other people's makeup/make-overs but does this very rarely and is a dictator during the process.

Boom, surprise birthday party! How do they react to surprises? He's already thinking about how much he's going to make everyone suffer. Flip a coin as to whether he shuts it down immediately or plays along up until people get hurt. There is one (1) spontaneous asexual vampire gal who could get away with doing this.

Do they like to wear jewelry? Yeah, and he owns a lot of it.

Neat or messy handwriting? Neater than you'd expect, large unabashed spacing and snarky loops.

The two emotions they feel the most? Fear and curiosity.

Favorite fabric? Hahhahahahaa.. yeah it's cashmere.

What kind of accent do they have? New York-ish, like Baccano. The quality of his voice is not unlike Todd Haberkorn's normal speaking voice, brassy, abrasive, animated, wry and snarkish.

Taggames list: @katenewmanwrites @smellyrottentrees @wyked-ao3 @lychhiker-writes @fortunatetragedy @cowboybrunch @zackprincebooks @urbiggestfan-01 @quillswriting +Open Tag! (No pressure tho!)

[blainesebastian]

worth it

words: 1,373 ship: austin butler x reader summary: (combination of 2 requests) angry!austin + protective!austin (sentence prompt)  notes: thanks for all the requests! it’s been cool to write and realize multiple requests can fit into one writing piece :) hope ya’ll enjoy. masterlist is here  warnings: verbal abuse (men about reader)  tag list: @killerqueenfan, @karamelcoveredolicity, @elizabethrosecresswell, @gigisworldsstuff, @stylesmendeshearted

Austin’s pissed.

You can see it in the frame of his shoulders, tight across like rebar formed into the bone. He stands a bit straighter, the muscle in his jaw works, and his eyes which are usually the softest ocean blue turn hard, like the color of a frozen lake. When your boyfriend has these moments, you always remember something your mother would say when you were younger—to be wary of the anger of a gentle man. Not that you’re afraid of Austin or afraid of what he might do, but you know that he’s never quick to this emotion. So for him to be this upset? His buttons have to be pushed and pushed hard.

You feel like you should have known to just leave the bar that you’re at tonight altogether when you came in and you saw it was packed. It’s a place that you both have been to before, on dates, to hang out with friends and family, to just catch a quick drink before heading home after a long night on set. The entire makeup of the place tonight is just different given how crowded it is, people seem to have shorter fuses, tolerance, and the air is thick with a kind of tension that you can feel seeping into your pores long before Austin’s patience snaps.

But it was supposed to be an easy night of relaxation, of having a few beers, of maybe playing darts and picking up a 2AM pizza and eating it in bed together before crashing. When the first few comments from these guys around you started making things uncomfortable, you should have told Austin to close the tab and suggested heading out.

At first? It was kinda something that you were just ignoring because…it’s not the last time you’ll be out at a bar and guys are saying inappropriate things to you. Especially while drunk—you’ve learned the hard way that assholes will be opinionated no matter what. And giving these guys attention by either yelling at them or asking them to stop is just going to hype them up even more. You’re a woman and men, for the most part with a sparce few, suck. Cat-calling happens all the time and while you’re not saying it’s right? You don’t have the energy to deal with it.

Not to mention, sometimes, that when it happens and you’re alone—it’s not the safest approach to respond.

So a few comments float by while you’re at the bar with Austin, some of them you hear, other times it’s just a part of the loudness of people around you. Either way, you take a step closer to him and just enjoy the night, hoping it’ll just fizzle out on its own.

It doesn’t.

There’s these long string of moments where Austin goes to the restroom and you’re alone, doing your best to just ignore the lewd commentary coming from two or three guys a few bar stools over. You’re not about to look in their direction, give them a thrill or the time of day, but when Austin comes back he can tell you’re uncomfortable.

And then he hears it.

“Fine lookin’ piece of ass tonight at the bar.”

“Right? And usually this place is so fuckin’ dry.”

“Not tonight—you see the rack on her? Think she’s rentin’ by the hour? Could ask her—”

During the entire interaction, you can feel more than see Austin’s demeanor change beside you, the tensing of his body, the way his arm wraps around your waist to keep you close. You’re hoping he’s just going to let it go, maybe offer to go to a different section of the bar or better yet, leave altogether and find somewhere else to spend the night.

Austin leans back from the bar just enough to make sure his words land, “The fuck did you just say?”

The guys fall silent, just for a moment, startled that he’s actually said something to them. But this doesn’t deter them for long, there’s laughter which immediately sets Austin’s blue eyes alight. It’s obvious his blood is boiling and in any other situation? This might cause a shiver to course down your spine but your only concern right now is getting out of the bar without a horrible fight starting.

While you appreciate the gesture of Austin not letting these comments fly, it’s not worth throwing punches.

“We were wonderin’ if your girlfriend rents by the hour,” One guy slurs, taking another sip of beer, “Seems like a fuckin’ waste to keep her to yourself.”

Austin takes a strong step forward and you have to move quickly before you lose him, your hand falling to his chest, “Stop,” You insist, fingers digging into his shirt a little.

“Better listen to your lady, pal.”

You shake your head, tugging a bit on the fabric until he looks down at you. “Please,” And you can feel him relax, just slightly, when his eyes meet yours, “It’s not worth it, okay?”

The muscle in Austin’s jaw tightens before he lets out a short breath through his nose, “Of course it’d be worth it.” But he concedes, throwing cash on the bar counter before taking your hand and leading you out through the crowd.

The night air is cold and biting compared to the heated space of the bar, your skin prickling as a chill settles along your body. Austin doesn’t look back at you either, walking all the way to the end of the street with his hand firmly clasped around yours.

“Austin,” You try and then you pause at a crosswalk when the light changes, “Austin.”

He turns sharply at you saying his name and you…don’t have the words to tell him he’s squeezing your hand too hard when you get a good look at his face. He’s pissed. His breathing is a little off, eyes sharp like broken glass. The hand that he’s not holding quickly moves to cup his one cheek, running your thumb over the bone.

That seems to get him to restart, just slightly, taking a short, calming breath into his lungs and his grip loosens on your other hand. He tips his head back a little, sighing, running a hand through his hair.

“Nothin’ pushes my fucking buttons like that.” He comments, a slight twang in his voice leftover from Elvis when he’s upset.

You shake your head gently; he really doesn’t have to explain. “I know,” You mumble, running your thumb along his knuckles, back and forth in a soothing motion. “Definitely don’t need to be hittin’ people though.”

There’s a crack of a smile on Austin’s lips and from then on you know he’s genuinely calmed down, “Would be worth it though.” He lifts up the hands you both have laced together and presses a kiss to your fingers.

A soft sigh flutters out of your lips, a gentle eyeroll to follow even though it’s fond.

“I know I can’t protect you from everythin’, but sometimes I wish you’d let me protect you from the things I can control.”

And then that hits you a little differently, the warmth Austin obviously feels towards you rolling off in waves. You can’t help but smile up at him, touched that he wants to look out for you, even in frustrating moments like this. Maybe you need to realize that you deserve someone caring about you too—that idiots in a bar like that shouldn’t be able to just throw whatever comments they want in your direction and it just ‘be okay’.

“I mean—I guess throwin’ a punch would kinda be sexy, I dunno.” And you’re joking, of course, but the passion it represents in connection to what he’s said is still there.

Austin hums in amusement and slides his jacket off, the jean sherpa that he tends to wear out once the weather shifts into something cooler. He places it over your shoulders, drawing you close before crossing the street.

You’re not sure it’d be actually worth it to have Austin get into some sort of fist fight over you…but the sentiment is definitely there that he’d even be willing and worth more than you can put into words.

[wjehfshs]

(If you don’t do requests or your requests are not open feel free to delete)

Omg I saw your fnaf reader and cod and I was looking through your blog and saw u write for Resident Evil and I wanted to ask if you for Resident Evil 8 and cod with a gn!reader that’s a dimitrescu daughter

( I don’t know if this violate your rules sorry)

No this is totally fine! I’m actually watching someone play RE8 as I’m writing this lmao

GN!reader, reader is a Dimitrescu child/sibling, reader looks very similar to the Dimitrescu sisters/daughters but readers gender is not specified, OOC characters

They had discovered the castle all as one big group

Hearing about the village and how it has a bunch of supernatural stuff they were sent as a giant group for safety

Going through the village was already tough enough but going through the castle stressed the ever living hell out of them, even if there was basically an entire army

Soap was the one Bela managed to capture

Being the oldest and wanting to impress her mother she was ecstatic to have captured one of the soldiers wandering her home

Unfortunately, your mother was busy doing her own thing

So you all just kept Soap locked up

Daniela was flirting with him the whole time as she was the one to watch him

You, Cassandra and Bela were out gathering the others

You were the second youngest, older than Daniela but younger than Cassandra and Bela

Although yes they all had guns and gear you captured them and brought them to the room you were holding Soap pretty easily

“Oh he’s so in love with me” Daniela whispered to the three of you while pointing at Gaz

“Stop it Daniela” you snapped, you loved her really you did but she got on your nerves

She thought every man was head over heels in love with her

Although you thought you had captured every single one of them there was one soldier missing, how did you find that out? Soap has no idea how to be quiet

“Aye, where’s Logan? the sneaky bastard”

“Fuckin’ hell Soap do you ever know when to shut the fuck up?!” Ghost couldn’t help but snap, Soap had just given away that there was one more solider missing, their only hope

“[name], would you be a dear and go grab him for us?” Bela turned to you with a grin, she had always been the one to give orders

Without saying anything you dashed out the room, darting around to try and find him

Logan was in the library, wracking his brain as to his he could possibly defeat four, tall… things? AND save everyone else

He was just about to open the door out to the hallway when we felt himself be lifted from the ground

Pulling him up by the back of his jacket, you spun him around to face you like he was a cat being held by the scruff of its neck

“Annoying little thing” you snarked at him, dashing back to the room everyone else was

He didn’t even have time to think

Daniela snatched him out of your arms and held him out by his arms “He’s so cute! Like a little doll, I feel bad about eating him” she whined and giggled

“Daniela put him down” you snapped, you had always been the one to keep Daniela in line.

She reluctantly dropped him as he tried his best to cushion his fall

“Logan! You okay?” Hesh’s voice was filled with worry as he pulled his little brother up by the arm

Logan just simply nodded, never really being a man of many words

You picked up König, by the back of his vest

“We should eat this one first, don’t want all the meat to go to waste” you remarked

“This one looks unwashed 😒” Cassandra bent down to look Graves in the face

You couldn’t help but laugh

[flamehairedwritings]

Stray: Chapter One

Characters: Lt. Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Female Reader 

Rating: E, 18+ ONLY

Words: 5k

Summary: Ghost has a fine time making you admit you need want him.

A/N: Chapter One of Six. A chapter posted every Monday!

Entire Story Tags: hurt/comfort, angst, enemies are lovers, porn with plot, they're not nice people, but are they

Chapter Tags:  Dub-con, only because reader says no when she really means yes, slight degradation, affectionate degradation if you will, praise, praise kink, biting, marking, use of love/ma’am/kitten/slut/good girl, belt around back of neck but no choking, cock-drunk, MDom, maybe even a bit of gentle MDom, rough, dirty talk, man-handling, gloves, fingering, blow-job, deep-throat, unprotected sex, slight possesiveness, permission to cum kind of, creampie

Read on AO3

Stray Masterlist

Please don’t copy or steal my work, and please don’t post it on any other sites. I do not consent to my work being used for AI purposes.

─

Chapter One - The Safehouse

His boots thud on every step of the wooden stairs, echoing a little in the stairwell.

Bone fucking tired, he's opted for the nearest safehouse; a flat in a crumbling, shitty block. It's one of the smaller ones in the area, but it's quiet, got some good escape routes.

Still, habits being habits and training being training, he'd scoped out the surrounding area anyway, finding it quiet, not a soul around. No threats. Not really a place you'd want to be out in after dark, anyway.

You might bump into someone like him.

He softens his steps as he approaches the front door, pulling the key out a pocket on his trousers. Nothing on the seal suggests interference, and there's no sign of tampering on the lock so, really fucking ready to put his head down, he unlocks it, opens it, steps a boot inside─

And pauses.

Music.

There’s fucking music.

Coming from down the hall, in the kitchen.

It couldn't be one of the others, this is one of his safes.

Fuck.

It's the last thing he fucking wants or needs, whatever this is.

Silently, he steps fully through the door, closing it behind himself. Unholstering his largest knife and a handgun, he squares his shoulders and moves down the hall. Entering the kitchen, his eyes dart about the small space. There’s the battered radio, his radio, sat on the centre of the circular table, soft jazz music playing from it. It’s so old the sound is slightly distorted, the instruments crackling.

There’s pots in the sink, too.

What the fuck…

Someone's made themselves a nice fucking meal.

And the shower's running too.

Lifting his eyes to the door ahead, his jaw moves as he stills.

A distraction or someone's actually having a fucking shower in his safe house?

Adjusting his grip on his weapons, he nears the door─ 

The water stops.

There's the distinct, faint squeaking of the taps as they're tightened shut, and then the sound of the curtain being pushed aside.

He decides to wait instead of barrelling in, not knowing what he could be facing.

Could be a civilian squatting.

Could be a fucking psychopath.

Steeling himself either way, next comes the sound of the door unlocking, then the handle's being pushed down and it's opened and─

You stand there.

Paused in the doorway, unsurprised.

In a robe. A fucking plush white, looks like it came from a spa, too fucking big for you, robe. Of course it's not fucking his, which means you actually brought it here yourself. He'd've laughed if he wasn't so pissed off.

And then you smile.

Fucking psychopath it is, then.

“Hello, Simon.”

“Stray.”

Of course it fuckin’ is.

Short for Stray Cat, you’ve been so named through the channels, and never supplied any other, because you belong to no unit, are loyal to no one, instead aligning with the highest bidder.

Should be because you just fucking turn up when you like and use other people's shit.

“The fuck are you doing here?”

You shrug. “I was in the area. You can put those down.”

He's not sure he can yet, but he does. Holstering both weapons, he remains where he is, watching you move into the kitchen, grabbing the kettle and filling it with water like you fucking own the place.

“Cup of tea?”

“Nah.” His eyes don’t leave you.

You, on the other hand, have your back to him. “Sure? I found some bags of Earl Grey─”

“I'm sure. Why are you here.”

Flicking the tap off, you shut the lid of the kettle and settle it back on it’s holder. “I needed a shower.” You glance at him, lips twitching. “And I like the head on that one.”

He grunts. “How'd you get in.”

“Reveal my secrets?” You flick the kettle on and turn to him, folding your arms as you lean back against the counter. “You know better than that, Simon.”

He presses his lips together, an action you can't see but can practically sense at this point. Your lips twitching again, you tilt your head.

“You're looking well.”

He doesn't answer.

“Tough job wasn't it?”

His eyes narrow a fraction. “What do you know?”

You tut lowly as the bubbling of the heating water grows louder. “I asked first.”

“Actually, I asked first, and I'll ask again: What the fuck are you doin’ here?”

The kettle reaches its boiling crescendo and flicks off, and you smile as you turn to it.

“Sure you don't want Earl Grey? There's no milk and even you surely can't stomach milkless Builder’s.”

“I don't want one,” he grunts as you set two mugs down.

You glance at him over your shoulder, the robe sliding off it a little as you drop a bag into each mug. “I'm not going to poison you, Simon, not intimate enough for me.”

He opens his mouth to snap a retort, when his gaze catches the drop of water that slides down your neck. His teeth grit momentarily as he follows it, watching it disappear under your robe, most likely about to slide down to─

His brow twitches into a frown as he sees it.

“What's that?”

Placing the kettle down after pouring water in each mug, raising your eyebrows, you look over your shoulder again, then tilt your head down to where his gaze is.

“Oh, nothing.” You grip the robe, pulling it back up. “Don't suppose you have any lemons hidden away?”

His eyes are on the back of your head, and you feel it. 

“That's new.”

“And?” Scooping the bags out of the boiling water with two fingers, you half turn, tossing them into the sink.

And you've forgotten how quick he can be.

Before you can turn back, he's closer, grabbing your extended arm at the bicep with a gloved hand.

“Ghost─”

His other hand yanks the robe off your shoulder again, lower this time, giving him a full view of the fresh, jagged, angry scar that stretches the length of your shoulder blade.

He exhales a harsh breath through his nose, mouth in a thin line.

“What─”

“Get off.”

He lets you shove him away, the hand that had pulling the robe up once more. He watches you as you adjust the cord at your waist, tightening it. All humour has vanished from you now as you tear your gaze from his, turning back to the mugs.

You’re pissed off now and he doesn’t even want to start fucking analysing why.

Silence descends as you shove the mug you’d prepared for him along the counter, water sloshing over the sides, and lift your own to your lips, taking a small sip from it.

He releases a long breath, hands settling on his belt.

“Was it from one of his jobs.”

“I'm fine, Simon,” you mutter, taking another sip.

“Why have you come running to me, then.”

You scoff, setting the mug down and turning suddenly to him, an incredulous smile on your lips.

“You think that's what this is?”

His head tilts minutely. “I know it is.”

You laugh, folding your arms as you lean back against the counter again. “You're so cute. I was just in the neighbourhood.”

“You're never ‘just in the neighbourhood’, Stray.”

“‘cause you're the authority on me, are you?”

“I know what can make you cum, that tells me everything I need to know.”

You stare at him. Then, you snort, a wide smile spreading across your lips as you reach for your mug.

“Very cute, Simon.”

He watches your lips settle over the rim of the mug, watches your throat move as you swallow. 

Well, seeing as he won’t get the sleep he wants…

“You know…” Exhaling a breath, he pulls his headset off and sets it down on the circular table. “... You’re still a fucking shit liar.”

“I’m not, I do think you’re cute.”

You’re smiling again, pleased with your funny little quip, you’re always pleased with them, and it doesn’t falter as he moves closer.

“Well, now I know that is the truth…” It does falter slightly as he takes the mug from your hands, places it on the counter behind you, where his hand then rests, arm nearly brushing against yours. Tilting his head down to look at you, you have to tip yours back. “... That’s why you’re here, isn’t it. He can make you dance to his tune, but he can't give you what you need. What you crave.”

Your smile has eased, but he sees the darkening in your eyes. “Your presumptuousness is grating.”

“Leave then.”

You don’t move. Predictably.

Your arms are by your sides, and he’s already noted the quickening of your breath, your chest rising and falling a little faster. And your smile’s gone.

He shifts his weight to one foot, leaning more on the hand behind you, leaning closer.

“Go on,” he murmurs. “Play your little game, mouse. We both know how it's going to end. Or I could just…”

You inhale sharply as suddenly his other hand is at your inner thigh, making your hands flatten against the counter door behind you. 

Movement around his eyes suggests he’s smiling.

Fuck, you hate being too easy.

Gritting your teeth, you lift your chin a little more, silent.

He releases a sound, almost a chuckle. His gloved fingers glide against your sensitive skin, tracing up and down, and you hate that he can probably see how tight your jaw is.

“Tell me you want it,” he murmurs.

You lick your lips. “No.”

“No?”

His fingers inch higher, so close to your aching pussy.

Your lips part. “No…” You lift a hand to his face. Then, you grip the material of his cloth mask.

Instinctively, his hand darts up from your thigh, gripping your wrist tightly.

You still, gazing at him. After a moment, you lick your lips again. 

“Just want your mouth, Ghost. Please,” you murmur.

He stares at you.

Then, his grip loosens.

“Did you just fuckin’ say ‘please’?”

“Shut up.”

Pushing his hard mask up and off, and the material one up off his mouth, you then claim his lips. He groans against your mouth as he hears his mask clatter to the floor, your arms wrapping around his neck. Sliding his arms around your waist, he tugs you against him, making your lips part with a gasp.

“Always so fucking needy, aren’t you,” he rumbles as you bite at his lower lip.

“Funny, I thought that was your hard cock I can feel…” you breathe, trailing off with another gasp and a smile as he tightens his grip on you.

“Shut up.”

He kisses you fiercely, so hard it’s almost bruising.

You love it.

Rising up on your toes, you press as hard against him as you can, and he holds you there, but it’s not enough.

“… stupid, fucking vest…” you hiss as you draw back suddenly, and then your hands are fumbling with the fastenings. He just watches you, hands gripping at your waist.

“Thought you liked feeling it against your tits.”

“Not today.”

Shoving it off of him, it joining his mask on the floor, you return to your position, and… yes… it will do.

He’s never gotten entirely naked with you, and it drives you insane sometimes, but you don’t dare to push, lest he make you stop completely, so you don’t try today, just let him take the lead.

And he does.

He captures your lips in one, long, firm kiss that nearly steals all the breath from your lungs before he’s kissing down your chin, jaw and neck, making your head tip back.

Well, kissing is generous, it’s more like he’s biting and sucking.

Trapped between him and the counter, all you can do is arch against him as he mouths at your skin, your eyes closed, mouth open, harsh breaths escaping you.

“Beg for me,” he mumbles against your skin.

“No…” you breathe, and his hand is suddenly between you, pulling at the robe cord.

Parting it, his gloved hand glides from your stomach, up over your tits and down to your hip

“Beg.”

“No…” Even you would admit how breathy and pathetic the single word sounded.

He bites down where your neck meets your shoulder, making you cry out softly, and then his fingers are tugging at your hard nipple.

“Beg for me, then I’ll give you what you want,” he murmurs into your ear.

All you do is moan, gripping at his biceps.

“Mmh… I…”

“Beg, love, then I’ll play with your needy, puffy little cunt.”

Turning your head closer to his, you bite hard at his jaw, your saliva slicking the skin and stubble there as you moan, and he knows he nearly has you.

“You want that, don’t you, love… Want my fingers stroking your aching little clit… My cock stretching your hole open…”

You would be embarrassed at the moan you release but you don’t care.

“Simon…” you breathe, and he presses an almost soft, open-mouthed kiss to a bite-mark that’s forming, and you crumble. “… Please, I want that, I want you, please─”

Snarling, he grips your waist and spins you, walking you backwards swiftly and shoving you against the table. Gasping as your hip bumps against a chair, you gaze up at him with half-lidded eyes as he shoves you up, making you sit on the table. Falling back onto your forearms, you send the radio and his headset clattering to the floor.

One of them sounds like it breaks, probably the radio from how the music suddenly cuts off; you don’t care.

“You’re gunna fuckin’ pay for those,” he rumbles as he unbuckles his belt, eyes fixed on yours.

“How would you like me to do that?” your murmur, corners of your mouth lifting as you rub your ankles against his hips.

“You know.” Pushing your legs further apart, he stands between them. “You want my fingers first, want to be stretched open for my cock?”

Licking your lips, your chest rises and falls swiftly as you look at him. “Yes.”

“Want the gloves on or off?”

“Off. Want to feel you.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Removing his right glove, he settles his left hand on your hip, before he runs the other straight down your inner thigh, to your pussy, where he slides his forefinger right into your slick hole.

You cry out as your back arches, eyes falling shut.

“Yeah… That’s good, isn’t it…” he murmurs as he starts to fuck you with it “… Tell me that’s good, kitten.”

Lying back, your head nearly hanging off the table, you don’t want to give into him fully too quickly, so you just moan. And he allows it, for now.

“So fuckin’ wet already… Were you drippin’ from the moment you fuckin’ saw me… I bet you were, weren’t you, you needy little slut… Bet you could take another finger already…”

He eases a second, long finger in so easily, and you fist the robe that’s spilled around you. 

“Oh, God…”

“Not quite, love.”

When his thumb moves from your hip and starts to slowly circle your clit, you’d happily call him so.

You rock your hips into his hand as you moan, almost mewling like your namesake.

“That’s it, fuck yourself on my fingers…”

Gazing up at him, you could cum just from the sight. His eyes flick from your own to your cunt, his shoulders loose, relaxed, and, looking at his chest, you can see his breathing has picked up. You love what you can do to him… but you know you can do more.

Locking your ankles at his lower back, you drop your knees down to the side, giving him better access, and a better look, at your soaking cunt.

“Why don’t you get on your knees, Simon…” you purr. “... Why don’t you taste how wet you’re making me…”

He grunts, though it almost sounds like a groan.

“Now that’s really cute…” Suddenly, his hands are off of you, and before you can whine at the loss, he takes the fronts of the robe in both hands and pulls you up and forward until you’re on your feet, held between him and the table. “... You think you can give the orders here, love? Don’t fuckin’ think so.”

Then, he releases you, and takes a step back. 

“On your knees.”

Lips parted, your body thrumming with pure fucking lust and adrenaline, you smile.

And then you sink to your knees.

“Good girl,” he gravels as he unbuttons and unzips his trousers.

“Fuck you, Simon,” you murmur, your smile lingering and your thighs squeezing together as you tip your head back and open your mouth.

Creases appear around his eyes again; he’s smiling, too.

Pulling his cock out, his groans in the back of his throat as he strokes it a few times with his ungloved hand before he places his heavy tip on your outstretched tongue.

“You know what to do.”

His hand falls away as, instantly, yours takes its place, and you start to stroke, squeezing lightly, as your mouth closes around his cock and you suck hard.

“Oh, fuck…” he hisses, fingers flexing at his sides as his hips buck.

You let his cock sink in deeper from the action, and then you take him all, his tip hitting the back of your throat.

You’re used to it. Or, rather, used to him.

“Christ…” he grits out, a hand flying up to grip your shoulder.

He never touches your head when you suck his cock, unless you ask.

You draw your head back, and then take him all in again, then again, then again, until, looking up, you see his eyes have closed. As if sensing you looking at him, his eyes snap open, and he tightens his grip on you.

“Yeah, you look at me with those big fuckin’ eyes while you suck me off… I’m gunna empty that pretty fuckin’ head of yours until all you’re thinkin’ about is my cock.”

Drawing your head back, you use your tongue to push thick globs of saliva out of your mouth and down his cock before smiling. “You think I’m pretty?”

“Shut up. Put your mouth to better use.”

Exhaling a laugh, you then take him all the way in again, keeping your eyes fixed on his. He grunts and watches you, drawing in sharp breaths. You fucking love sucking his cock, feeling the ridges and veins with your tongue; it’s thick to the point where your jaw will have a delicious ache tomorrow if you carry on for too long, and, well… On your knees, sucking the cock of the feared Ghost and having him grip at you for it? 

That’s pretty fucking intoxicating.

When you have him all in once more, nose brushing against his trousers, you then still, holding all of him in your mouth and throat.

“Yeah, get it all wet for your cunt…” he breathes, voice tight as his eyes flutter, trying to keep them open.

You nearly have him. He’s so very close to the edge.

And you want to push him right over it.

Pulling your lips back, squeezing them around him, until you reach his tip, you suck hard at it, swirling your tongue as your hand strokes up and down his thick shaft swiftly. He gives a strained gasp, quickly gritting his teeth as he hisses out breaths, and you moan against him.

“Cum in my mouth…” you murmur, gazing up at him. “... Cum down my throat…”

You suck at his tip again, swirling and swirling your tongue and─

He steps back, his cock leaving your mouth with a wet, unceremonious ‘pop’.

“What─”

He’s gripping the front of your robe again, hauling you up, and shoves you against the table once more.

“What did I say…” he half-pants, gripping the backs of your thighs and making you sit up on the table. “... about givin’ fuckin’ orders.”

Your heart pounds with excitement and a smile pulls at your lips as he shoves the two chairs either side of you away, sending them toppling to the floor.

“I can’t remember…” you breathe as he stands between your open legs, his wet, heavy cock pushing against your stomach. “... All I can think about is how much I want your cock inside me, Simon…”

He makes a sound akin to a growl, and then his gloved hand is between your breasts, pushing you down. Lying back on the table, you place your heels on the edge of it as he grips his cock, other hand gripping your knee.

“Say it again.”

“Want your cock in me…” you mewl, rolling your hips as you run your hands from your stomach up to your breasts, tugging at your nipples and drawing a soft moan from yourself. “... Want you deep inside me, want to cum on your cock…”

He’s staring at you, your eyes, your fingers, your tits. He’s at the edge of his control… but he’s also a bastard.

“Magic word.”

You exhale a short breath through your nose, rolling your nipples between your fingers. And then you lift a leg, settling your ankle on his shoulder.

“Come on, Simon…”

His hand slides from your knee, up your shin to your ankle, cupping it, and he turns his head to it.

And then he presses a soft kiss to the skin there, keeping his eyes on yours.

Oh, fuck you.

Inhaling a ragged breath, the word sounds like it’s almost punched out of you.

“Please.”

He smiles.

“Good girl.”

You’re moaning before you even feel his tip. When he sinks into you, your eyes fall shut and your head tips back… and it’s bliss.

“Fu-uck…” you breathe out, and you feel his grip tighten on your ankle.

“Fuckin’ hell…”

The groans he releases, so fucking low, so carnal, has you instantly starting to rock your hips, feeling his thick length slid so easily in and out of you, stretching you. Hissing out a breath, he suddenly grips your other leg and lifts it onto his shoulder, taking over and thrusting into you, already setting a hard and fast pace.

The table creaks beneath you with each snap of his hips, but you can barely hear it, all that’s left of your mind focusing on the pleasure that’s pulsing through you.

“How does that fuckin’ feel…” he grunts, hands locked on your shins.

You gasp out moans as you hold his gaze. “... So fucking good, you feel so… so fucking good…”

Shoving your legs off his shoulders, he leans down, settling his arms over your head, mouth hovering over yours.

“Again.”

“So good, so fucking good, so fucking good, fuck, Simon…”

You try to kiss him, lifting your chin an inch, but he moves his head away, instead ducking it to your neck and fixing his lips there.

And then you hear him take a long, deep inhale.

“Fuckin’ Christ…” he breathes.

He thought he’d smelt it earlier.

You smell of the basic, shitty, own-brand soap he keeps here, and it’s driving him fucking wild.

You smell of him.

He thinks of you gliding the bar around your body, soaping your tits up…

“Fuck…” he groans against your skin, spreading fast, sloppy kisses there, sinking his teeth in.

He chuckles darkly when you cry out, your slick walls clenching around his cock.

“Yeah, you fuckin’ like that, don’t you… Like when I mark up your pretty fuckin’ neck?”

He bites down again, revelling in how you instantly clench again, hard, a ragged moan torn from you. Pressing his lips to your ear, he rumbles, “I’ll be on you for days.”

Fucking hell…

Your hands gripping at his jacket, fisting and tugging, you cling to him as he bites and bites and bites, always covering each one straight after with a lick or a sloppy kiss. And he just keeps fucking you hard through it.

When he suddenly pulls back, you actually whine, hands falling from him.

It takes you a moment to realise what he’s saying.

“... Look at me… Look at me…”

Your eyes snap open, and he fucking loves the almost blankness he sees there, how cock-drunk you are.

Yeah, only he can do this for you. Only him.

“Come here…” He slides an arm under you and pulls you up so you’re sat on the table, his cock continuing to spear into you. The angle allows him to plunge deeper and your eyes almost roll back as they close.

“Nah, keep those pretty eyes open, and stay up, look at me as I fuck you open…”

Pulling his belt out of the loops with a snap, without breaking rhythm he wraps both ends around his hands, and then wraps the shortened length around the back of your neck, keeping you up.

Keeping you looking at him.

“This is why you’re here, isn’t it…” he murmurs, nearly panting. “... To be fucked and spread open by my thick cock, to cum on it over and over and over again…”

You’re gasping in your breaths, hands now gripping his forearms, nails digging in, his words probably circling round and round your empty mind.

“… Say it, love… Admit it…”

Your mouth is open, hurried little breaths and moans all that leaves it. “... I…”

“Go on… Say it… It’s why you’re here, isn’t it… Say it.”

“Y… Yes…” you gasp.

“Good girl.”

You clench hard around him.

He growls. “Yeah, that’s it… Squeeze my cock like a good fuckin’ girl…”

You clench again, releasing a ragged moan.

“You need to cum, don’t you, you need to cum on my fuckin’ cock.”

You can’t take your eyes off his. “Ye-es.”

“Beg me for it.”

You’re talking before he’s even finished, words breathless and moaned.

“Please, please, let me cum, wanna cum on your cock, please let me, please…”

He chuckles, the sound catching in his throat with a groan. “You think you fuckin’ deserve it, huh… Think you can break in here and ruin the quiet fuckin’ night I wanted…”

You don’t know how, but you smile, and manage, “Don’t tell me… you don’t prefer this…”

“Well, now I’ll never know.”

Using the belt, he yanks you closer and claims your lips in a fierce, bruising kiss. You give back as good as you can, but you soon falter as an orgasm starts to build and twist in your lower stomach, making your muscles clench.

And he can feel it.

“Go on,” he mumbles against your lips. “Cum for me, rub your little clit and cum on my cock, let me fuckin’ feel you, squeeze me, make me cum…”

The moment he had said it, your hand had flown between you, fumbling, finding your clit and rubbing swiftly as well as you could. You cry out as the pleasure rises and rises, hurtling closer, your hips bucking. 

He tears his lips from yours, pressing his cheek against the side of your head, murmuring into your ear, “Cum for me, fuckin’ do it, cum now, cum on my thick cock, let me feel you, love.”

Your orgasm erupts through you.

Body jerking, you release a strangled scream as you cum, nails digging through his jacket nearly to his skin. He fucks you through it, grunting nearly incoherently in your ear now as your pussy squeezes him so fucking deliciously.

“... Yeah… Good fuckin’ girl… Fuckin’... Good… Tight pussy… Squeeze me… Take it… Take it… Take my fuckin’ cum… Yeah… Yeah… Oh, fuck…”

He thrusts hard and deep once, twice more, and then he cums inside you with a guttural roar, his grip tightening on the belt. Weakened, blissful moans fall from your lips as you feel him fill you, your back arching.

So fucking good, every single fucking time.

When he stills, his hands fall down to the table, taking the belt with them.

Swallowing hard, in turn your forehead drops down onto his chest, and you close your eyes, just focusing on trying to slow your breathing.

Your hand has softened on his arm, your other gently against his thigh.

His chin rests atop your head.

Neither of you speak, for how long you don’t know, and you almost hope neither of you ever do.

Suddenly, enough to startle you a little, his head lifts.

“Suppose you won’t be polite and fuck off now.”

You exhale a laugh, rolling your shoulders as you lift your head, arching an eyebrow. You find his cloth mask is back in place.

“No, I was here first.”

He just grunts out a sound that might be a chuckle as he pulls out of you, making you inhale sharply. Pulling the robe up over your shoulders as he steps back, you slide off the table with a small groan, rolling your shoulders again. His gaze drops down to your thighs, lingers, then meets yours again, and you give him a slow smile.

“Is that my cum leakin’ out of you.”

“Yes it is, Simon.”

You note the way his shoulders drop as his back straightens. 

And he jerks his head towards the bedroom door.

“Get in there. I’m gunna shower off.”

You give him a faux-pout, your brow dipping as renewed lust surges through you. “You don’t want company?”

You know he doesn’t.

He’ll give you everything but his face. And you give him everything but your heart.

He closes the distance between you, lowering his head to you. “You just get on that bed and keep those legs spread for me.”

A corner of your mouth rises higher than the other as you gaze at him. “Don’t tell me what to do, Simon.”

Letting the robe slip from your body to the floor, you turn from him and step over a fallen chair and the radio, moving into the bedroom.

Watching you go, his jaw moves as he releases a long, slow breath.

Fuckin’ hell…

─

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[statticscribbles]

Cause/Effect

Summary: Commisson; Male reader/Theo Raeken, Theo has to know the effect he has on everyone, right?

TW: Smut

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Commissons Rules Here!

You don’t look up from where you’re reading, Scott had given you a whole list of books and journal entries and text messages, and far too much to catch up on now that you were in the pack. You can almost feel Theo Raeken standing over you. 

When you’d first met him, before you knew about all the supernatural things happening, before you knew what he had become from the doctors, you assumed that he was just cocky and though the was better than everyone else. After learning what had happened, what he’d asked for you assumed it was possible some sort of guilt complex but the longer you spend around him the more you realize he’s just being cocky. 

Stiles had been the one to grumble to you about it first and you’re about to commiserate with him but then he scoffs about how Theo’s bisexual and he only does it since he discovered that the type of guy he likes also likes him back and he’s flirting.

“He’s flirting?” You watch Theo wiping the weights down with a towel.

“Yeah, he’s a cocky asshole, he learned it from Jackson fuckin’ Whittenmore.”

“Lydia’s lizard boyfriend?”

“Mhm, they’d get along better if they didn’t have doctor issues.” Stiles laughs a little and you join, knowing enough to be aware the joke is funny, in a traumatic way, which it feels like most everything is.

You don’t mean to pay more attention to Theo after that but you can’t help it, you’re attracted to him, and having confirmation that he’s actually into guys, that you could have a chance with him. You know he knows because you think he’s been showing off for you. You try your best not to make it obvious and don’t even ask Stiles if you’re being obvious, worried if you have to ask his answer will be yes.

“What do you want, Raeken?” Theo laughs, he knows he’s riled you up enough, knows you’re going to snap at him. He laughs more when you stalk over towards him.

“I may be human but there are things I can do that you’ll never expect.”

“Prove it.” You knew he was going to say it and you smirk a little.

It's clear he's not expecting you to attempt to shove him into the wall. The key word is attempt as you end up barely moving him.

"Better luck next time, pretty kitty." You scowl at the nickname trying not to blush at all. Theo had given it to you after Scott had mentioned how you'd stuck around all of them like a stray cat, after you'd been exposed to the supernatural underworld that covered Beacon Hills. He’d ended up shoving you into the wall instead, shoulders shaking in silent laughter as he moves his hand from your shoulder where he’d shoved you.

He’s watching you and tilts his head like he’s studying you. You’ve never seen him look at you this long and you wonder if this is what Scott meant when he’d mumbled how you’d kept Theo in line.

Theo laughs out loud and you huff a little. He closes his mouth and resumes watching you. You press your lips to his, surprised when he actually stays quiet. You can feel the spike of nerves, that you had gotten it wrong, that he might not be interested in guys that somehow Stiles had lied or Scott had been wrong and you’re about to say sorry but he just smirks and laughs more.

“What’s funny?”

“Well you finally got me to stay quiet, I was hoping if I laughed you’d do it again, or should I do something else?”

“What if we did something else?” You smirk a little and are expecting something to happen but Theo just steps back from you.

“We?”

“Yes? We, as in us doing something together?” You wink and he waits for you to continue.

“What?” You frown a little as he keeps his eyes darting around your body.

“Didn’t think you sucking me off would be considered an ‘us’ thing, since you’re the one doing all the work.” He grins as you blush at him.

“Or would you rather me suck your dick, do all the work?”

“Both?”

“We can’t use the bed, Scott has a ban on supernaturals in his bed unless it’s him.”

“Why would we do ANYTHING in Scott’s bed!!!” You scowl and Theo bites at your neck.

“Hm okay I see why we would…” You trail off as he rocks his hips against yours and you can feel his dick pressing on your thigh.

“So, you want to break the rules? I thought you were supposed to be reformed and all that.” You tease and Theo growls into your ear.

“Only if we break the bed.” He tugs you towards Scott’s room. 

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[lycianlynx]

It starts at breakfast in the dining hall -- which is to say, it only begins.

"Good morning, Chad," she giggles, sliding into the seat next to him, grinning over a forkful of eggs. "Happy birthday!" A fingertip creeps over the table until it just barely brushes the side of one of his, and then she pokes him once more for good, playful measure. "Can I steal a little bit of your time later? Please?"

(She departs from breakfast with a grin thrown over her shoulder, mouthing the same two words with a laugh as she disappears; she peeks her head into his classroom between classes just to catch his eye, a finger pushing up both corners of her silly grin ere she ducks out again; and she knocks on his door again, rap-a-tap-tap, a few hours into the afterschool evening.)

"Hi!" She grins, and giggles, and grins again, a speckling of flour touching her hair. One hand darts out, fingers splayed and wiggled mischievously. "Do you have time right now? --yeah?" A brief and different inflection, reminiscent of the one shining in the reflection of her eyes. "Hee hee... I think you should hold my hand to prove it." (Never mind the fraction-tilt of her chin, round eyes peering hopefully from beneath her bangs.) And, should he relent to this tremendous and most fiendish affection, she shall lace their fingers together, roses gently brushing her cheeks as she pulls them along.

Down, down, to a familiar scene, if a different spread. This time it is simpler: an open box of handmade cookies, flecked with gold and scarlet (almond and cranberry -- an experiment, chosen for its colors); a small angel food cake hidden beneath fluffy whipped topping and a crumbling of yellow fruit; and in her hands, when they turn back to her, a small plush cat, its eyes sharp and its smile kind, (and most importantly, with heart shaped beans embroidered into its paws).

Though how soon they notice, who can tell? She certainly aims to distract with the smiling kiss planted against his cheek.

It's almost like there's no way Chad can continue expecting quiet birthdays, even if they had never really hoped for them— It's amazing, what the constants of a single year can get you used to, what hopes it'll set up for the next. Even Maria joining them for breakfast as she's wont to do is met with a little smile and bright eyes, the former stifled behind a mouthful of berries and oats, backfiring as they nearly choke on thanks.

"Always," they had said, without missing a beat.

(And that's an awfully big promise to give to anyone and really mean, isn't it?

And yet: She doesn't know how much of their time she steals already, even beyond actually hounding their day like a lop-eared pup. Today, they meet her eyes at every other turn, having to stifle a smile or even a snort, subtly wiggling fingers back in greeting.

But even when she isn't there, flashing little secret smiles and silly faces— They find her again in the margins of their notes, on loose pages stuck into textbooks, in peripheral flashes of red their eyes follow, even if it is just a rose, a cardinal's feathers, the sun's shine.)

Days like these remind them of kinder years. Selfishly, they want to seek solace in them. They seek solace in the rhythm of her rap-a-tap-tap, the flour in her hair, the smile on her face, the mimicry she flatters them with that they duck from upon recognition.

"I do," Chad replies, deciding they can be selfish for once: It's their fuckin' birthday. "Said so earlier, yeah? My time's all yours."

To prove it: There's only a split second of hesitation before they grab her hand, just a little too fast, but sincere in its holding fast, seeking solace in that, too: Her palm warm against theirs. They chew their lip for a fraction of a second before tilting their own chin slightly upward with the same teasing edge, reaching up to ruffle the flour out of her hair.

A— Saints forbid, a giggle slips out, an equal mirror of her own mirth, bashful and young, spirited away with the wind as he follows her, down, down, down— Thud-thud, thud-thud, their boots a-patter down the path, hop, skip, just to keep up with her, not because of the senseless feeling in his heart, surely— And even though the scenery is modestly familiar, it opens ahead of him like a new world anew. Eyes crescent at earthberry and cream spreads, delighting all senses, but they aren't even given a moment to even think about mourning the hand slipping from theirs a second later when—!!

"!!!"

Thought stops. Eyes widen. A lost opportunity bubbles back to the front of their mind (a gloved hand in theirs, so easy to bring up to their own lips to touch knuckles, the thought fantastical and insane like the stories they'd've mimicked with that move), before dissipating into whatever smoke is pouring out of their overheating head. That same hand left bereft raises, incrementally, to touch the lingering warmth on their cheek, trying to capture it between their fingertips. Brown eyes flick over, staring for a long second, still incomprehending—

what does this mean?

Writ in her smile, the phantom kiss left on their cheek, the hearts stitched into the paws of the little feline she holds: what do you think it means?

They won't miss this again: The fear is swallowed in an instant, the heart deciding on hopeless insanity. A boy surges forward, swaddling a girl up in their cloak in a hug, holding her gentle with all their might; A boy bashfully buries a wobbly smile into her shoulder as opposed to their own collar, drinking deep of vanilla and citrus lingering from her bakescapades.

"Maria, I," The hope cracks their voice in half. They press on. "love it. Thank you."

...

Finally, soft, muffled.

"Can w'stay like this a lil'?"

[bclletragedie]

LOCATION: ralph's boxing gym, late evening FOR: open! ( 2/5 )

𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐘, 𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐑. even if octavia had become used to the throws of her father's former livelihood -- allowed herself to take on his burdens and his side-hustles, when the end of the day came she relished in the thought that she would soon get to go home. it was perhaps the most human instinct that the woman otherwise viewed as a machine possessed. she picks up the sound of footsteps at the front of the gym with the keen hearing of a cat, eyes darting in the direction of the sound in a matter of seconds. as she emerges from her office, formerly her father's office, she soon assesses the individual in front of her with a raised eyebrow. they certainly don't appear to be a threat -- but octavia has certainly been wrong before. she'll stand her guard, while simultaneously making every effort to get them the hell out of here. much like the rest of society, she had dinner to eat and shows to watch.

" fuckin' christ.. someone forgot to lock the damn door. " octavia murmurs, emerging from the darkness. she had been halfway out the door at this point -- lights off, bags in hand. " we're closin' up shop, so make it quick. "