#and he does get them a luxury room at the best hotel there is

[softquietsteadylove]

Gil surprised her with a matching look? She has a white nice dress and he shows up in a white suit? Would be a cool partner look =)

"Madame?"

Thena offered a tight smile as she picked up a glass of champagne off of a passing tray. "Merci."

She hadn't really wanted to come all the way here for this function, but it was insisted upon not only by her French diamond contact, but the entirety of his diamond house family. It was to seal their business, as well as act as a gesture of good will for future deals.

Karun told her she had to go, and Kingo doubled down, even telling her that she should 'lead him on a little more' for the sake of business. She attempted to ignore that.

She was an engaged woman.

She had told Gil she had to attend a meeting in France. But she knew that he was no fan of the monsieur with whom she had conducted business. In all fairness, she supposed she wouldn't be thrilled if he had to conduct business with the Little Heiress again. But she was here for tonight and then she could return home.

"Madame Glasse?"

She smiled as her business associate sat down adjacent to her. At least if she was seated or holding something, he didn't feel the need to kiss her hand. "It's a lovely soiree."

"You seem very," the gentleman looked around the sparkling ballroom, "isolated."

Thena inhaled, looking down at her don perignon. "Forgive me, monsieur, I have never been the life of the party."

"Ah," he offered a smile, adjusting the gold button of his beautiful blue suit. "You accepted my offer, but I think perhaps your heart is not here with us."

Her heart was in a penthouse apartment with a certain Tyrant King, who had probably fallen asleep on the couch in front of the Food Network. She should have just asked him to come with her, risk that he would start a fight be damned.

"Madame, would you grant me the privilege of speaking my mind with you?"

She gave him the faintest expression of surprise before nodding. Perhaps he wasn't as much of a dumb blonde - the irony of which did not escape her - as she had suspected.

"I admit I am quite taken with you," he expressed openly, leaning on the arm of his chair that was closer to her. He did have that sad, puppy-love expression on, too. "Positively enchante, truly."

Thena merely waited for him to go on.

"But as much as you did not tell me," his eyes drifted down, and to her hands, safely folded over her crossed legs. "You do not withhold your heart from me out of modesty, non?"

Thena adjusted her lace around her arms and in the crooks of her elbows. She didn't bother taking her ring off for the night. "Would that affect our business if I told you that you're right?"

He chuckled, although she could already see his disappointment. "But of course not. I am a gentleman, Madame Glasse, and I will honour our business just as you have. And I do have some brain under these looks."

Thena resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She knew it was in good humour, but few men were allowed to get away with cocky humour like that with her. One man in particular.

"I realise I am pursuing a woman who has already made her match," he sighed, leaning back again. His eyes flicked down, "it's a beautiful ring, cheri. They are small, but I can tell the quality of them is impeccable."

Thena smiled. The little diamonds in her ring, creating joints where the bands could meet in their weave, were indeed perfect in every way. "But of course; I am the diamond queen, after all."

"Indeed," her associate agreed, also plucking a glass of champagne for himself. He gave her a smile, "I am grateful that you came. But if you wish to leave, I will not hold it against you."

Oh, how she ached to be at home, in the arms of her Tyrant. But even with a private plane, the journey home was no quick hop across the pond.

"She should stay for a dance, at least."

"Gil!"

"Hey Princess," he greeted gently, despite her insistence that he not call her that in public. He bent over the arm of the chair, capturing her hand smoothly and pulling it up to his lips. "Miss me?"

He was like a knight in shining armour, and while she had never seen him in a white suit before, she didn't dislike it on him. She raised a brow, "new?"

"Like it?" he grinned as he pulled her to her feet, leading her closer to the dance floor. "I had my tailor whip it up just to surprise you."

Thena shook her head at him, her feet moving automatically as he led her until they could sway together, his hands holding hers and at her back. "When did you get here?"

"Not long ago, actually," he made a more sheepish face. "I got on a place a few hours after yours, after I picked up this number."

She smiled, running her hand over the lapel. "Did you want to match me so badly?"

"Well," he smiled as well, his eyes soft and reflecting the chandelier above them. "Can't let my wife show up to a fancy ball unaccompanied, can I?"

She refused to let him know how much she liked it when he called her his wife. "I did, though, didn't I?"

"Okay, so I was a little late," he huffed, rolling his eyes in good nature. He spun her around before pulling her closer, "I wasn't invited."

Thena stole a glance to the edge of the room, where her associate was excusing himself from the room entirely. "Last I checked, he was not in your good graces."

Gil shrugged, and her hand moved with the bounce of his massive shoulder as he did. "Just don't laugh at his jokes, Ice. Then we've got no problem."

She did not believe that. But perhaps she was too intoxicated by the warmth of him and the champagne she'd had. He pulled her nearly flush with him and she resisted the urge to lay her head on his chest.

"Sorry I'm late, baby," he whispered, sneaking a kiss to her temple while they were able to go unobserved. Or at least, unremarked upon, as far as this branch of society was concerned. They weren't exactly law abiding citizens, but this territory of Thena's was more about business than about brutality.

"You're forgiven," she sighed as she let him numb her overstimulated senses, "this time."

"This time?" he chuckled, and his chest bounced against hers from it.

"Just this time," she purred, running her hands over the front of his fine, white suit. "And this?"

Gil didn't even glance down as she tapped at the royal blue pocket square that screamed against the colour of the rest of his outfit. "Maybe a little bit of a challenge to French-y."

"So territorial," she murmured. She had to be careful not to sound like she enjoyed his territorial side; it would only encourage him.

Gilgamesh pulled her hand up his chest until he could kiss her fingertips, tapping against her ring as he did. "I think I have a right to be territorial about my own wife."

"We are not married."

"Yet," he nearly cut her off to insert. He smiled at her, still swaying them loosely to the beat of the band, "not yet. Anytime, any place, Ice."

"Hm," she sighed, the exhaustion of the business and the travel and the whole of the last few weeks weighing on her. She leaned against him heavier and he allowed it, holding her as much as she liked. "Not tonight."

"Fine," he chuckled, kissing her cheek this time. He stayed close, his nose dangerously near 'nuzzling' territory. "Wanna go home?"

"You just got here," she nearly groaned at the thought.

"Okay, so we get a room, spend a little time here before we go back?" he suggested. "We can take a long weekend in Paris, what do you think?"

She did not care what they did, so long as she didn't have to let go of him.

[gladiatorcunt]

🍒🍦 ⸺ ᳂ cherry vanilla dr. pepper !!!

cw: afab reader, voyeurism, tashi and you make out while you get pounded, weird amalgamation of dehumanization/objectification/pet play, subby!art coded, spit roasting at the end, slight overstimulation, bizarre orgy vibes, mean dom!tashi to everyone but you <3, implied breeding/creampie kink, canon typical mind games, tashi sits in the cuck chair /j, implied romantic feelings but no mention of established romantic relationships, slight mxm, clit stimulation, one use of “mommy”

happy challengers day 🎾💚

consider commissioning me or leaving me a tip !

“Round 4 will be the last one, alright? Get ready, baby.”

You take deep breaths, clutching onto Patrick’s wrist. You lock eyes with Tashi, feeling syrupy sweet deep in your gut. She grins and unbuttons the top buttons of her shirt, leaving you three to your own devices for now.

The stretch of Patrick’s cock stings and burns a little but Art nipping at your hip bones helps distract you. Patrick pants against the nape of your neck, you feel so divinely tight he thinks he’s died and gone to heaven.

He keeps his voice low so Tashi can’t hear him, “Fuck-you feel incredible, i’d kill for this pussy, you know that.”

“Hook your arm around their neck, good boy.” Tashi instructs Patrick, leaning back in the hotel chair and palming her pussy at the sight in front of her.

“Yes, ma’am.” He swiftly calls back, acting like he hadn’t said anything to you at all.

Patrick has you in a headlock, pummeling his cock in and out of your pussy with reckless abandon. Art is beneath the two of you, suckling on your clit like it’s a nipple he’s trying to get milk out of. He licks where you’re stretched around Patrick, drawing groans from you both and a chuckle from Tashi.

“Be a good dog and lap them up, okay? I’d hate to have to take away your toy privileges.” She sneers, sliding her damp underwear to the side and stroking her slit.

The “toy” in the equation isn't you.

You’re dead to the world, eyes bulging out of their sockets and nails trying to rip the white sheet to shreds. Your head and tits rock back and forth with Patrick’s thrusts, already on the brink of your fourth orgasm. You try to scream that you can’t take anymore, but you wanna make Tashi proud so you shut up.

“ ‘s so good…” Art hums into your mound, pecking little kisses onto it here and there.

His sounds are muffled but the vibrations send your eyes to the back of your head. The chair in the corner of the room creaks as Tashi gets up, and the second you lift your head and open your eyes, she’s smiling down at you with all the warmth she doesn’t give the men pleasing you. This isn’t about them, it never was.

“Patrick’s so big, Tashi-he’s unggggh-he’s gonna kill me!” You whine, desperately pawing at her clothed breasts.

She coos and pulls her blouse up, bringing your hands to cup her tits and keeping them there, “Baby you know he’s not, this pussy can take a beating. I’d only give you the best toys.”

You nod wordlessly, pouting your lips. She gets the message and claims your lips in a searing kiss, luxuriating in the slick slide of your lips. She loves to make it messy, getting spit all over your mouths and letting it drip on the bed.

Art mewls and flicks your clit, trying to get your attention. You feel bad and try to pull away from Tashi, but she yanks you back into the kiss and bites your lip as a punishment. You hiccup into her mouth, startled when Patrick starts jackhammering into you.

Tashi typically has them alternate, but Art prefere to bury his face between your thighs and Patricks likes to play with fire by cumming inside your sore cunt. He doesn’t speak as much as Art does, but sometimes he holds Tashi stare as you two make out. They’ll have to retire from Tashi’s “employment” eventually, and they’ll be taking you with them when they do. All games of keep away end.

Patrick traces letters and shapes on the glistening skin of your sweaty back, sloppy hearts and ‘ I - L - O - V - E - Y - O - U ‘ s.

You gasp and wrench yourself back to breathe. Art flattens his tongue and licks broad stripes over your labia. He nuzzles his nose into you, stopping to pant and take in your smell. He may be delusional, but he’s convinced that every part of you is so sweet. He honest to God can’t get enough, he’d lie in a puddle at your feet if you wanted him too.

Sometimes you feel torn when you fall into bed with your lovers. You’re too soft to be like Tashi, but that exact softness is exactly why you can’t handle being away from her for too long. Maybe you’ve fallen under her spell just like all the rest, but she puts her career on the line to prove how special you are.

Patrick pulls you up to rest your back against your chest. You let your head fall onto his shoulder and you moan when he adjusts the angle of his thrusts to rub against your cervix repeatedly. He wasn’t like this when the evening started, Patrick only roughens you up when you’ve been thoroughly run through and can take it with a dopey smile and glazed eyes.

“Keep going, it’s okay- want it-want you.” You cry out to Patrick, reaching down to caress his hip.

He smiles and licks your cheek, complying with your request.

Art grins up at you with his eyes, mouthing ‘That’s my angel, only for us.’ into the flesh of your inner thigh. He moves to Patrick balls and takes them into his mouth, bobbing them up and down with his tongue. Patrick moans as Art laves his balls in saliva. Art lets them fall out of his mouth, curling his tongue around the inches peeking out of your pussy and hollowing his cheeks out.

“Shit! Stop, ‘m gonna cum!” Patrick hisses through his teeth.

He either empties another load into you or he just refuses to cum if your pussy’s not available, period.

“They’re so hungry for it, aren’t they? Well, can he? Can our dog cum inside you, baby?” Tashi tsks, cupping your cheeks and bringing your attention back to her.

“Yes, yes, yes! He can cum inside-please let him cum inside mommy-i need it so bad-wanna be stuffed full with it!” You whimper and arch your back, jutting your tits out.

Tashi laughs and leans down to suck one of your pert nipples into her mouth, bouncing your other breast in her hand. Tears spill from your waterline down to her freshly manicured nails. Art has since gone back to sucking the life out of your clit, and the little wink he sends you doesn’t help you hold back your impending orgasm.

Patrick thrusts a few more times and then you’re cumming in sync. You go brain dead and your body locks up in his arms. You’re out of it for a good few minutes, and when you have full awareness again you see Art kneeling in front of you. He holds his dick out for you to gawk at, slowly pumping himself for your amusement.

Patrick hasn’t pulled out of your pussy but he doesn’t fuck you again, he jostles his hips to find the most comfortable position for his softening cock to plug you up.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” He huffs and pushes you back down on all fours.

“You need your mouth taken care of too.” Art whines and squeezes his cock around the base, beckoning you closer with a ‘come hither’ gesture.

Said man is tenderly and carefully bundling up your hair in his arm and casting it aside, giving him ample space on your back to pet. He rubs the pink tip of his cock along your jawline, he gives you a fresh coat of lip gloss via his precum as he slaps your plump lips with his cockhead.

“It’s kinda like sucking off a dildo attached to a mirror, don’t think too hard about it.” Tashi tells you, crouching down to suck the small divot in your back.

She sits back in the cheap black hotel chair, shrugging her blouse off and pinching her nipples.

You moan at the first taste of Art’s cock, longer than Patrick’s but with less heft to it. You peer out of the corner of your eye to see if Tashi’s still watching, and you feel silly when you realize that she always is.

“Doing good, baby, keep it up.”

But that’s the thing, they’re all watching you now. It’s not hard to be a pathetic bottom that needs to be coddled and tended to at all times. It’s never difficult to stroke the fire in someone’s ego, you’ve had an easier job of that than anything else.

You saw them all together on the court, you were there for lessons that didn’t work out. Who knows how long ago, it feels like a lifetime, but all it took was one look to recognize what was destined to be yours. You couldn’t give less of a fuck about Tennis in actuality, but you sure do love the players.

They all have hearts in their eyes as they watch you. Art with his dick deep down your throat, his legs are trembling as he tries to stop himself from fucking your face. Patrick, still making a forever home for himself in your guts, his eyes are so dark you have to repress a shiver. And Tashi, knuckles deep in her pussy, finger fucking herself to the pretty little show her baby puts on with their toys.

When the boys are asleep, you’ll bounce on her ribbed strap until you shatter all over again.

Now, Is it cheating to win a game when people don’t realize that you're playing?

- faetreides 2024. do not repost, translate, or put my works into ai

[mistydeyes]

hiiiii I LOVE YOUR WORK!!!!!!!! Can you please do 141 with a model reader who does Chanel,Versace etc and she gets an invite to do Victoria’s Secret runway and they see her down the runway how would they react

she’s not any model shes and icon,sex symbol,brains,she is the moment

big inspo for me ( I want to become a model)

AHHH I LOVE THIS! anon i feel you tho, every time i look on pinterest i just want to be a model! thank you for requesting <3

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summary: The 141 has always had an odd connection of friends, allies, and connections. However, they can't deny that they don't enjoy your luxurious life as a model and the perks that come along with attending one of your shows.

pairing: Taskforce 141 x fem!reader

warnings: swearing

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A series of events in Milan allowed the 141 to cross paths with you. Staying in a lavish French penthouse was far from what they had expected on a mission dictated by Laswell but her connections with your retired INTERPOL mother had brought them the extravagance of your home and lifestyle. Laswell had to threaten to have their court marshaled if they delayed their arrival home any longer. You thought of that brief moment in summer fondly as you left Gaz a voicemail. "I have a runway in New York coming up, let me know if you'll be on leave," you spoke on the phone, examining your manicured nails, "accommodations and champagne are on me." 

"This is nice," Price said, dropping his duffle onto the marbled tile of their hotel room. "Are you kidding, Cap?" Gaz said as he opened every door into the massive suite, "This is fucking amazing." When they got off the plane at JFK, they had not expected a private driver who brought them to the ornate hotel. The room itself had four separate bedrooms with two bathrooms filled with the best amenities. Soap had taken the opportunity to run over and open a bottle of champagne while Ghost pilfered the small shampoo and conditioner bottles. While the men explored the vast rooms and fought over the beds, there was a knock at the door. Price opened it to reveal a well-dressed bell-hop boy, holding a tray with an envelope. "Four tickets sent by one of the models," he spoke and Price handled the black envelope with embossed pink lettering. "Hell of invitation," he muttered before he looked at the runway time and shared the details with his team. "Wonder what she'll be wearing," Soap mused as he turned to take over one of the bathrooms.

Behind the stage, there was organized chaos with models running around in their silk robes in between the stations. The chatter roared as they chatted with the various hair stylists and makeup artists. "First VS show?" your makeup artist asked as she applied glitter delicately to your primed lids. "Yes, but not my first modeling gig," you smiled as you felt the pressure on your closed eyes, "Versace was beyond a mess compared to this." The artist laughed as she continued to prep your look. You could see mixes of pink and gold applied to your lips and the apples of your cheeks. "We think an olive green liner would look stunning on you," she said before holding a green eyeliner pencil in hand. You nodded in response as you shifted a bit in your robe. You gently closed your eyes again as you envisioned your latest outfit for the night.

Weeks prior you had visited the city to see your outfit for the night. A sage green bra and panty set decorated with pink and glittery flowers to resemble a meadow. Your wings were made of a delicate rose pink chiffon that was reminiscent of a fairy. "Do you like?" the designer asked as you walked around the stand and examined every stitch and detail. You smiled as you nodded happily, feeling the soft fabric under your fingertips. "Any particular inspiration?" you questioned as you made sure to feel the weight of the wings. "The newest line of Victoria's Secret," she spoke dreamily, "the delicacy of nature."

With your makeup and hair done, you walked over to change and receive the final touches from the design team. The group walked rapidly around your figure, assuring every detail would shine when the lights hit your walk. "Have anyone special here tonight?" one of the designers asked as he cut a few loose stitches. "Just a few friends from Europe," you spoke, hoping you didn't sound too entitled. You wanted to talk more but your odd friendship with a small special forces group would definitely reach some tabloids. "You look perfect darling," another designer spoke and you nodded before beginning to walk in your heels. "You can mingle with the others. Your collection is after the classics set," she reminded. You took a deep breath and made some facetious conversation with the other women. They were in awe at your previous shows but you just simply talked as if each was a mediocre experience. "Alright ladies, walk begins in five," a voice called over the comms and you lined up accordingly. As you watched the excited group in front of you, you wondered what you would treat the 141 to for dinner. You were sure if someone knew this is what you thought of before a show, they would laugh.

"Move up, Y/N," the stage manager directed, pulling you out of your food-related musings, "almost time for you to go on." You moved forward, getting into the comfort of your model walk you had done so many times before. You took a deep breath as you heard the live music stream through the curtains and the ethereal light peek through. You looked down at your attire one last time before the model ahead of you returned and it was your turn to awe the show. "Go, go, go," you could hear the stage manager command as the bright lights and menagerie of faces met your gaze.

"I think this is her!" Gaz commented, leaning forward in his chair. "You've been saying that for the past four models," Ghost corrected before he turned to see who was coming out next. As the men directed their gaze to the stage, you confidently strutted onto the platform. They were glued to your figure, perfectly accentuated by the flirtatious lingerie set. The details were delicate and encapsulated your aura. "Fuck." Soap whispered under his breath as the glitter and flower additions to your ensemble shimmered underneath the light. Your wings bounced and looked like they flittered in the air as you made your way in front of the watching crowd. "She's a natural at this," Price commented as he watched the way you walked in a straight line with an air of elegance in each step. He also couldn't deny the way you shined on stage and how the cameras clicked in rapid succession. As you reached the end of the runway, you took an opportunity to look over at the seats you had picked for the 141. You gave a small wink before blowing a kiss in their direction. 

Upon your exiting, there was a clamor amongst the group as to who the kiss was directed to. Primarily, Soap and Gaz were at odds thinking you made eye contact with them as you puckered your glossed lips. Price attempted to put a stop to them before Ghost spoke up. "I'm sure that was for me," he spoke quietly, leaving everyone to shelf the conversation and bring it up later over dinner.

[backwardsbread]

Hazbin Hotel Characters:

~First I love you~

Warnings‼️: use of pet names, a dash of angst for Adam and Lucifer (I’m sorry), swearing, GN!Reader, Lucifer doesn’t really say it but it’s still cute I think.

A/N:Okay I’m VERY into fluffy scenarios with these characters rn- MY HEART- thank you guys for all the love towards these and I hope you enjoy! This is sorta rushed because I’m TIRED and working on TOO MANY THINGS.;-;

~not proofread~

Vox:

I’ve mentioned this in previous headcannons with Vox, but dating someone was most definitely not part of his plan.

He views himself as this big bad overlord who would never go soft for anyone.

Dude thinks he’s too good for anybody, even Vel and Val sometimes. He’s very proud of his work and what he does and doesn’t like anyone getting in the way of that.

You’re only a slight exception.

Who he would literally do anything for

He tries to keep your guys’ relationship very much under wraps. He understands how dangerous of a person he is to be around.

Sharing your relationship to the public would basically be an open invitation for anyone who has beef with Vox,

Including a pesky radio demon

To target you.

So while he denies your guys’ relationship to anyone and everyone, it’s understood between the two of you what you guys truly have.

However, Velvette and Val are able to see right through Vox’s bullshit when he starts getting feelings for you. They see how he reacts to your messages, your affections, and your presence.

They know Vox has a soft spot for you, but since they like their heads attached to their bodies, they keep their mouths shut.

As his feelings for you grow, it became more and more obvious to anyone with common sense what was going on.

The man literally relaxes at the mention of you.

Unbeknownst to Vox, literally EVERYONE knows about your guys’ ‘secret’ relationship.

Vox doesn’t realize how easy he is to read. He’s an impulsive liar, and a good one at that, but his actions very much contradict the lies he spits.

He could literally be screaming at one of his employees for who knows what, and if you walk into the room, his eyes soften and his attention is on you.

He’s straightening out his posture, trying to look as if he wasn’t about to murder one of his employees.

(He would deal with them later)

Despite how obvious his and your feelings are towards one another, Vox still doesn’t make anything public, letting fans and overlords alike to speculate.

It was a poorly kept secret but one the two of you mutually agreed to keep.

You are in Hell afterall. Saying you were the TV faced overlords significant other was like sticking a paper on your back that says ‘Kick me’

Vox does his best to balance his life with you and his work life. Work was all he ever knew, so when you entered his afterlife, scheduling became a huge issue.

He would love to spend every moment by your side but he’s work too hard. His empire is too important to him.

So while the two of you didn’t go out too frequently on dates or outings,

(But trust me when you do, it is luxurious. He makes the limited time you spend together worth it.)

Vox was always making a way to communicate with you.

Whether that be via phone call or through text messages, he’s always making sure to make an effort to spend time with you. Even if it was just hearing your voice and seeing your words through a screen.

On your off days, he keeps you on an ongoing call in his TV room at all times. Unless you have something planned of course, then it’s back to the texting.

He would be in and out of his screen room frequently between meetings and whatever other things he had to do. The little lair of his was where he spent a lot of his time catching up on paperwork, checking up on the latest releases, and working through the insane amount of work emails he received.

All while talking to you. Whether it was ranting about his day or yours, or if it was talking about what your guys’ next date would be or even just enjoying each other's silent, distant, company.

That brought you to now; listening to your significant other rant about his overlord associates who had sprung a last minute meeting on him.

You listen to him shuffling around his office, grumbling as he put on his suit jacket.

He rambled on grumpily while you listened with an amused smile. He swore under his breath as he looked at his watch.

"Alright doll, I'll be back in about an hour."

"Boooo."

"I know, but once this bullshit is over, I just have paperwork so I'll be all yours, I’ll talk to you later."

"Alright, see you in a bit, I love you.”

“Mhm, Love you too.”

Vox hurries out of his media room without a second thought, zapping into a nearby security camera and appearing into the meeting room in a bolt of electricity.

He begrudgingly sat in his chair slumping into himself and mentally preparing for the chaos his coworkers were about to create.

As Velvette and Val went at each other throats, his mind drifted to the thought of you.

God, he would give anything to just be next to you instead on enduring this Hell within Hell.

He zoned out, thinking about how you were sitting on call in his office, waiting for his return. You were so loyal to him.

He thought about you, your company and your voice, the way you sounded when you said you loved him.

Realization hits him like a freight train, his screen glitching out a bit and his fans kicking into high gear as he replays the conversation the two of you had before his abrupt departure.

He kind of stays in stunned silence for a moment, in complete utter shock. Was he dreaming?? He said it back so casually! Too casually!

He whips out his phone, shooting you a quick text:

~“You said you loved me??????”

It takes a few seconds for you to respond, but it feels far too long for Vox.

~“Yeah? You said it back”

~“I didn’t realize I did.”

~“Oh. Did you not mean to?”

~“No!”

~“Fuck that came out wrong. Hold on.”

Vox went into panic mode, his screen glitching in and out. Velvette and Valentinos arguing becoming muted background noise.

He tried his best not to blue screen or shut down completely, taking a deep breath to regain composure before he texted you back.

~“I do. I love you too.”

And boy are you glad Vox can’t see your right now because you are sure he would be soaking in your embarrassment with that prideful grin on his face.

You knew you said it first and honestly it felt natural coming out.

But knowing Vox felt the same, hearing him saying it, or well, seeing him say it.

Seeing that he got over his own pride to just say it by himself meant a lot to you.

It made your chest feel warm with joy, your stomach fluttered with imaginary butterflies, and your face burned red from those words that somehow meant more coming from him.

But of course you couldn’t let him know how giddy he truly made you.

Please don’t boost his ego more-

So instead you respond with;

~“That’s pretty corny, flat screen.”

Your reaction to his admission completely catches Vox off guard. He finds himself smirking to himself, somehow feeling better with you not taking him too seriously.

He couldn’t even hear his coworkers screaming at him, wanting his input on the subject they were arguing about.

He just chuckles to himself, tucking his phone into his pocket. Giving fake hums and nods of acknowledgment. Replaying those three little words in his head over and over and over.

Adam:

Holy shit, this man is too up his own ass to realize how bad he’s got it for you.

Don’t get me wrong, the man’s stuck up. He’s selfish. But whatever you ask?

Yeah you’ve got it or it’s at least getting done by the end of the day.

He’s got it bad.

He usually denies your request at first. He’s ’above such things’.

But whatever request it may be, whether it be him stopping to get food or requesting a late night cuddle session. He’s a sucker for you.

And everyone knows it but he will deny it to no end. No way is he soft for you. Nu-uh.

Because of his status and massive ego, it stops him from acting how he wants to around you for a long time.

Like, he’d love to hold your hand, be with you 24/7 in the streets of heaven.

But deep down he’s super self conscious about getting into a relationship. Man lost not one, but TWO wives that’s were MADE for him.

You’re good at getting him to show his true colors though. Straightening him out when he’s pushed too far.

He definitely made a big show about asking you out as well. Mostly to make himself less nervous about doing it.

According to him ‘it’s an honor he’s even asking you’

Which lead to you giving him a death glare and ignoring his ask the rest of the day until he asked you genuinely.

(He then surprised you at the end of the day with chocolates, a romantic dinner, and a huge blanket fort, where you guys cuddled and watched movies until 2 am. Where he asks you again to be his partner properly this time, not letting his ego get the better of him.)

But that aside, you’re one of the few people who can see through Adam’s egotistical exterior.

I hc that he’s a big softie. So oh boy, when you utter these three little words to him, they gain so much more meaning.

I mean we already know the man loves praise. Hearing it from you is a whole different level of euphoria.

It was the morning of an extermination, and while you weren’t meant to know, Adam couldn’t keep anything from you. You ended up finding out about his yearly activities in killing sinners.

The two of you didn’t speak of it often. It’s not like Adam was supposed to speak on the matter anyways.

But when you heard about the exterminations now coming twice a year?

You couldn’t help but feel nervous for your significant other. Sure Adam was strong, but who knew what the hell spawn were capable of?

Adam had finished getting dressed, walking out of his room with his mask in hand.

He seemed like a giddy child, muttering excitedly how he ready he was. It was a way to get the adrenaline flowing and get him hyped for the big day.

Despite how gruesome it was, he did love his job and the praise he received for it.

You’re laying on the couch watching Adam, hearing only your heartbeat in your ears. You watch Adam put on his mask, looking towards you and giving a small wave.

“Alright babe! I’ll see ya later. Hey, you should order from that one kick ass pizza place tonight! Celebration dinner after I wipe out those fuckin’ hellspawn!”

You’re quick to blink out of your panicked daze, swinging your legs over the cushions and nearly tripping over yourself as you go over to him before he can get out the door.

You let out a breath, brushing off nonexistent dust off his pristine war outfit.

“Just.. don’t be stupid. Alright? Don’t go biting off more than you can chew.”

“Uhh. Babe. You do realize who you’re dating right?? I’m fucking Adam! The original-.”

“Original dick, first man, yes yes I know.”

He looked at you through his mask, his grin faltering at the edges when he saw your eyes drowning in worry that you hid behind a nervous smile.

You avoid his gaze, continuing to try and find things in his outfit to straighten out before he can leave.

If you’re lucky, you’ll find something bad enough causing him to have to stay home.

Where it was safe with you.

Adam puts a hand over your own, stopping you from brushing imaginary fuzz off the front of his shirt.

You meet his gaze, and despite his mask being on, you see a genuine soft smile. One of adoration and reassurance.

One that made you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding in.

You press a quick kiss against his mask where a projection of his lips were.

He always hated when you did that. You depriving him of your real soft lips against his own.

Just ask him to take the mask off, he would do it if it meant he could kiss you.

Before he can complain, you gently squeeze his hand, letting out a whispered voice. Almost sounding too nervous- no, too scared- to speak.

“I love you.. please be careful..”

You go to let go of his hand so he can be on his merry way. But he’s quick to process your words.

He tightens his grip on your hand, pulling you in closer to him. A look of shock is evident on his face.

He squeezes your hand, pulling you against his chest. He moves his face, almost uncomfortably close, with his mask causing forced distance between you.

“Say that again.”

Now you were a little confused.

What did you even say again?

Did Adam suddenly get cold feet with the whole extermination?

He kept your body in a sort of pose that looked like you were going to start dancing.

His one hand in your own, holding tightly while his other arm wrapped around your torso, hand pressed against the small of your back to keep you close.

Your body pressed against his, it seemed he only wanted you closer, keeping a firm arm wrapped around your torso while you waited for you to repeat your words.

You look up at Adam, repeating your own words in your head. The realization of what you said and, what he wanted to hear again from you, made your face flush from light shades of pink to dark hues of red.

Adam has a smug grin on his face, keeping his tight grip on you. Refusing to let you go until you give him what he wants.

You see the look on his face and roll your eyes a bit while smiling. In a sudden rush of confidence, you kiss his mask again, wiping that smug smirk off his face.

“I love you.. be careful.”

You repeat, once again before Adam can complain about your teased kisses.

Part of Adam is glad you can’t see his face, which was burning red from your actions and words. You speaking sweetness enough to make him melt in your arms.

Those three little words that seemed so cliche before you uttered them.

He lets go of your hand so he can lift his mask off over his head. As soon as it’s off, he’s leaning in to kiss you. Just before his lips reach yours, whispering back a small:

“I love you too, babe.”

And just like that, he’s kissing you in the most soft and genuine way Adam can be. How he always was with you.

You didn’t know that would be the first and last time you would get to utter those words to your partner.

You didn’t know Adam wouldn’t be returning back to heaven after his expedition.

You didn’t know you’d only be able to hold his empty halo, whispering the lost words you never got to say to him.

Adam never planned to leave you alone questioning your faith.

You didn’t know, but at least Adam knew you loved him before it was too late.

Lucifer:

Another big sap despite his title.

Of ya know. The devil.

He met you a few months after Lillith left. So you saw him at rock bottom.

You met him at rock bottom. Wallowing in sorrows and self pity, waiting for his wife to return.

You never did pry at the king, one because he was your superior, and two because he was never in the right mind space to listen to you.

You offered an ear when he needed, an occasional shoulder to lean on when Lucifer had downed too many bottles.

You made sure the king stayed fed and physically stable. Forcing him out of bed on bad days.

(Well i wouldn’t say forcing. You’d sit beside him, rubbing his back while he lets gentle tears fall down his face. Whispering reassuring words and asking what he wants to eat so he would get up and get his desired meal you serve)

(It’s more of convincing and encouraging)

Lucifer had spent his eternity with Lillith. Having been with someone so long, he couldn’t imagine his life without her.

He was angry. He was grief stricken. He was confused. He was sad.

Her departure tore him and the family they had made apart.

You made him feel normal again. Like he wasn’t a failure of a king, husband, and father. You made him feel okay about himself.

Slowly over the years, Lucifer was recovering. It was painfully slow, but you had patience. These things took time overall.

He would never truly be over his wife’s leaving, not really knowing the reason why she had gone, only blaming himself for it.

A part of his heart was torn out that day, but you worked to fill it with new hope.

Lucifer is completely blind to your doing for awhile. I mean he spent a couple years disassociated from everything.

You provided everything for him and he barely knew anything about you. What was your intent in the first place?

He did ask you this once, why you were helping him. Why you did what you did.

Your reason was simple but struck a chord with Lucifer.

You said he deserved to be loved.

Loved.

He had half the mind to burst out in tears right then and there

After that admission, Lucifer set a goal to become a sort of equal to you. To provide for you as you had for him.

The newfound determination to basically serve you got the king of hell up and moving again.

What the two of you had felt so domestic. Cooking and cleaning together, tending to the garden Lucifer had made with Lillith. He couldn’t bare to step foot in it after she left.

But when he saw you out there in the garden covered in dirt and mud, yanking pesky weeds from the ground.

He couldn’t help but go out there. He didn’t even know you had been tending to it.

Most life had died in the garden with Lucifer’s marriage. Painful and sad

It became a midday chore for you while Lucifer grieved indoors. You caught eye of the gardens beauty one day and thought to spruce it up a bit.

When Lucifer was on his feet again, he joined you in this chore. Trimming away dead branches, pulling weeds, picking fruit that had ripened enough.

While he could just use his angelic power to grow these things, nurturing the plants from the start and watching them thrive and bloom was something he enjoyed ever since creation started.

It was something so special to him. So pure and a reminder of home.

The two of you grew closer with this shared chore, it didn’t quite feel like a chore anymore. As it was something the two of you looked forward to now.

Lucifer could feel himself falling. It was what he was prone to doing. But he couldn’t bring himself to be that vulnerable again.

Everytime he had fallen it left him bruised and lost. And if he lost you, he didn’t know if anyone would come pick him up again.

He could only get so lucky so many times.

He was currently looking at an open space near the center of the extensive garden. Where several paths met up in the middle of the garden. Where large trees formed a sort of dome shape protecting anything beneath them.

Lucifer hummed to himself, sleeves pulled up to his elbows. He tapped his chin thoughtfully, spreading the dirt on his fingertips to his face.

He glanced at how much space there was in the center of the garden. He always thought the center was bland. Sure you could lay down and look up towards Hell’s blood skies, but after centuries of seeing nothing but red above him, the sight got boring.

Besides, his creativity was bubbling in him. Begging for something new.

With a point of his finger, golden hues shot out, a large fountain forming in the middle of the gardens. It wasn’t quite tall enough to reach the trees above, but it did challenge them.

The white cement water fountain had edges to sit comfortably, three tiers, with little ducks on the middle layer spitting out water into the pool below.

Gold accents decorated each layer of the fountain. The pool to hold the water having a ruby red color, making the water appear like blood when it sat at the bottom.

Lucifer walked around the fountain, looking over every detail of his work. Making sure it was pristine and perfect.

He enjoyed it for the smallest moment, leaning his hands against the base of the fountain, leaning in to look at his reflection.

He then grew frustrated, not able to enjoy his own creation. It wasn’t good enough, not if it was made from his hands.

He growled, slapping his hand through the water, causing it to splash out. He gripped the edge of the fountain, gritting his teeth.

“Goodness..”

Your voice made him quite frankly jump into the air, falling onto his butt. His head snapped in your directions.

Your eyes were blown wide while you stared at Lucifer’s newest creation. Hands gripping a basket of freshly picked produce from the garden.

The king sits up, stuttering over himself as you move closer to get a better look at the fountain.

“You made this?”

You ask quietly, gently running your fingertips against the designs of the sides of the fountain, feeling the smooth detailing.

“Yeah I know.. it’s uh.. it’s-..”

“It’s beautiful.”

Lucifer visibly tenses at your words, looking up at you with eyes wide in shock.

He was dumbfounded, he looked like a child sitting on the ground just staring at you like this.

You look down at him, seeing his eyes wide and his jaw practically hanging on the floor. You can’t help but chuckle, deciding to take a seat next to him.

You set the basket between the two of you. Picking up a peach from the basket.

“The produce is growing lovely this year.”

You compliment the gardens hard work. Lucifer blinks out of his daydream, looking at the basket between the two of you.

His heart swells with joy. A sense of accomplishment that his creation, something he made, you thought it was beautiful.

His eyes trail to you. The light peering through the branches above you casting perfect rays on your skin.

Your company felt like home. It felt warm and comforting.

And in this light, in the garden, you looked just like…

“I love y-..”

Lucifer starts to speak before his mind can stop him. When you meet his gaze, his voice catches in his throat.

His face flushes golden colors when he caught himself almost daring to say that to you.

He lets out a comedic laugh, awkward and loud.

“..youuurrr COMPANY! Hah! Wow what a nice day! Gee golly, can’t imagine it any other way haha!”

You stare at him for a moment. Of course you were use to Lucifer’s occasional awkwardness behavior, but often times you had to read between the lines to understand what he truly meant/wanted to say.

You kind of got at what he was trying to say, your heart starting to beat fast in your chest at the thought of it.

But it wasn’t the right time. You knew Lucifer wasn’t ready.

You offer her a small smile, handing the fruit to Lucifer. You reach a hand up to wipe the dirt off his chin.

“I love it too. Any day with you.”

Lucifer’s face flushed gold once again, shoulders relaxing. He instinctively leaned into your touch, looking up at the fountain.

Patience. So patient with him.

[r0-boat]

Hi, have you done Bimet's NSFW Alphabet? If not can you make one please 🙏

Heheh Yes I will gladly make a alphabet headcannon post about one of my favorite characters in the game

Bimet NSFW ALPHABET

Cw: NSFW

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

You would be surprised that he is very good at aftercare, He will make you feel so loved and cared for when he's done. I'm talking small kisses all over your body, rubbing sore spots on your body; anything you want, he will gladly give you. A soft side of him that he shows to only two people in his entire lifetime.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He will never admit it, But his favorite part about you is your smile. Not one of those fake smiles either, a genuine smile never fails to brighten his otherwise shit tastic day. As much as he doesn't agree the little things that make you smile. As much as he thinks something so ignificant like a bug or a leaf could make you so happy. He can't help but find that a little endearing please never change.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

All demons in Tartaros are pretty possessive, it's part of their greedy nature. Even though he knows and gets off to the fact that you own everything, he can't help but have the urge to mark his territory with his seed. And you are on you he just has this hunger to claim and make sure you stay claimed that must be quelled.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He's got pet fantasies, He wants to be your pet, your concubine anything. Desperately willing to worship you. happily wear a nice little collar around his neck. As much as he likes to argue and poke fun at you as soon as those He's alone with you He's on his knees.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Oh he knows what he's doing. He takes great pride in pleasuring you And he strives to be the best fuck you'll ever have anything for you. He'll make you feel like a god, a princess, the most important thing in the world.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Any position that's yours, But if you really have to pick He likes looking at his caught going inside you so as long as he can see His cock disappearing inside You're warm walls He's okay

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He is more serious, if you try to be goofy he will just start fucking you harder.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

This man probably has a 13 steps skin and hair care so of course he's groomed. He prefers to shave and prepare before having sex with you.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

One of the rare times he shows his love and affection for you. He genuinely loves spoiling and taking care of you if only you will allow him to do it. Stop Fighting him and accept his pampering broke dumb bitch!!!

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Never masturbated in his life and never needed to. But that was before you. Now he's... Addicted...You've turned him on so much, who knew sex could be so good! He's supposed to be a demon but you corrupted him now he can't get off without you, almost as good as money... Almost.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Roleplay, of any kind in absolute slut for praise kink and degrading.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere luxurious. My guy will Will make reservations for fancy rooms all across hell just to fuck you in them.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Money and you. Wealthy locations, fancy hotels fancy resorts anything. Especially if you're in nice expensive clothing If he tells you he reserved a night out somewhere he's going to fuck you stupid.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anywhere in bathrooms, in the street, definitely not outside, also don't wear anything stupid that's a turn off as well, )no the Bluey socks will not stay on during sex take them the fuck off...)

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Giving and receiving! Perhaps even a little bit of a fixation He will taste you all day if you don't stop him. Your cunt/dick tastes so good! And of course he will be watching every little move you make if you bob your head up and down on his cock. Try not to make you choke on it

Fast rough and wild, fucks you like an animal. Fucks you like This is the first time he has sex because in a way this is the first time he enjoyed sex. He knows he fucks you good no matter how much he pisses you off.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Master at quickies he could make you come so hard so fast. Though he rather have you all to himself instead of resort due quickly hiking your leg up to have you, He's greedy like that.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Yes he experiments, This is the first time he actually enjoyed sex He is going to make the most of it He's going to get freaky Don't judge him.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Pent up demons are not something you want to toy with. He lasts for a fucking long time even by demon standards, And he has a quick recovery too. After 5 rounds he will want more.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Yes, both him and you. He got some expensive ass toys in his collection somewhere. Some he hasn't even used on you yet some you've never even seen. Started buying them after the first time you had sex.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

That fucker likes to tease like it's his full-time job He wants to hear you beg and sob and squirm. He'll make you say embarrassing things. And record you doing it just for a keepsake. He knows how to get what he wants and he knows just what strings to pull. He knows how to touch you He knows your body and he will play you like an instrument

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

The man is loud, growling grunting whimpering moaning you name it talking degrading praising and whimpering your name..

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Threesomes with You and Mammon had happened before They actually happened more often than you think.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Beautiful big thick and long cut cock. Swollen balls

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Fucking ridiculous. He just had a taste of you and he is not willing to let you go.

Wraps in armorandy to pull you closer before cuddling up to you giving your forehead a few kisses before drifting off.

[judecole]

caught on film. cp20

pairing: you x cole palmer

summery: you’re a famous retired footballers daughter and have been dating cole for a few months. the media hasn’t caught on to your relationship just yet but your appearance at the euros final in a certain players shirt causes quite the stir.

word count: 2114

authors note: idk

THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION.

You’re not exactly sure what you did in your past life to end up here, in this beautiful grand hotel in central Berlin. Despite your luxurious lifestyle, being born with a silver spoon in your mouth and having everything you ever wanted, you never took a single thing for granted. The hotel foyer is vast and grand, great marble columns dwarfing everyone in sight and traditional historic paintings in huge gold frames hanging on every wall. It’s beautiful. You stay in these kinds of hotels regularly but they never cease to amaze you. Your family PA is checking you and your family into the hotel as the several concierges begin collecting your luggage. You smile warmly at them and thank them before the manager greets you to show you to your suites. As soon as you enter your room you lay flat out on the bed, exhausted from your day travelling. You’d been flying back and forth from the UK to Germany for the last month. Any major footballing tournaments were a big deal in your family, you’ve been to pretty much every one since you were born. You can remember being a small child, wearing a shirt with your father’s name and number on the back and feeling so proud every time he stepped on the pitch. However now, things were a bit different. Your family were now invited as special guests and given all the best treatment, a private box in the stands where members of staff would meet your every need. You did truly feel blessed and very appreciative for everything your parents had done for you and your siblings.

You pull your phone out from your trouser pocket and check for any messages. Nothing. You bite your lip and open up iMessage and clicking on Cole’s name. You had been dating Cole for about six months. Things were going very well for the two of you, your parents loved him, especially your dad who was amazed by his talent on the pitch. You’d initially met him when he played at Manchester City after being invited to watch an U21’s match. You loved his laid back style and calm manor when he was playing. You smile as you remember the first time you spoke to him, all sweaty after the game. You’d gone down with your dad to congratulate the boys on their win and chatted with them. You swear you’d fallen for him right then and there, not being able to get his stupid grin out of your head. You begin typing a message to him when your younger sister walked into your room, plopping herself next to you on the bed. “You texting Cole?” She asks, a smirk on her face. She loved to wind you up about your relationship with the football player, often saying that the pair of you made her feel sick. You roll your eyes before replying, “Yeah, I’m gonna see what he’s doing after training.” You type out the message, “I know ur probably training rn but what are u doing tonight? I wanna see youuuu.’

You place your phone down on the bed and lay back, resting your head on the soft pillows. “Are you nervous about tomorrow? I hope Cole gets to play.” Your sister says, actually not being mean or sarcastic for once. “Yeah. I hope he does too.” You hear your phone ding. Picking it up, Cole’s name flashes on the screen. ‘Defo getting an early night but i can see you in the afternoon. Love ya.’ You smile at the words. You know how serious he takes his job, but he never fails to make time for you too. You text him back quickly and lay back again, smiling. “You’re so in love with him it’s gross.” Your sister playfully hits your arm causing you to slap her back.

A few hours later you’re getting ready to head to the England Squads hotel, a little trip planned by your father’s management team that conveniently lined up with your plans to meet Cole that afternoon. Your mum comes in to your room as you’re putting on some makeup and compliments your outfit, a simple pair of jeans and a top that was sent to you by a company that no doubt cost more than a night in the hotel itself. You smile and thank her, pulling her into a gentle side hug as she kisses your head. Your mum was definitely surprised when you told her about your relationship with Cole. Given your previous dating history he would never had been your type. But there was just something about him that instantly pulled you in, you still don’t know what it was to this day but you weren’t complaining.

Arriving at the squads hotel you check your hair and makeup in a compact mirror, brushing a few stray hairs into place with your nails. Your sister rolls her eyes, something that had now become the norm and makes a comment under her breath you can’t really hear. You get out the car and are greeted by some of the staff who lead you in through the hotels modern entrance. The hotel looked more like a spa than a hotel, every piece of furniture placed exactly, in a way to promote relaxation. You follow through the entrance into a board room, filled with players, staff and other prolific footballing legends and their families. You scan the crowd, looking for Cole. It doesn’t take you long as you see your dad pulling him in for a hug and patting him on the back, obviously congratulating him on reaching the finals. You grin as lock eyes with him, quickly wrapping your arms around him. He places a kiss to the top of your head, surprising you. He wasn’t the biggest fan of PDA, even the smallest things like holding hands made him panic. Maybe it was the fact you were one of the most famous people in the world which constantly occurred to him but never to you. You noticed some eyes laying on the pair of you which made you release him. You quickly returned to your professional manner and wished him good luck before finding your mum. She nudges you and gives you a cheeky smile when you reach her. “You two are silly. Why does it matter if anyone finds out?” She says. “It’s not that. I want to be public with him but not now. I want him to focus on football and I don’t want the media circus for him right now.” You say and give her a small smile. “Well that’s very thoughtful of you but make sure you’re public before Christmas because I’m not editing him out of the Instagram pictures.” She wraps an arm round you as you approach more people and chat about the final tomorrow.

Later that night after an expensive dinner in a posh restaurant near the squads hotel, you text Cole and tell him you want to see him before he goes to bed. He replies almost immediately and you ask your driver to wait outside the hotel and that you were just going to take a quick walk. You could see his tall figure on approach which made you speed up, not wanting to waste any more time not having his arms around you. “Hey.” He says softly when you reach him, extending his arms out and enveloping you in them. “Hey.” You almost whisper. “Wanna go for a walk?” You nod your head and begin walking hand in hand. It was dark now but the city of Berlin was still bustling, what with the warm weather. You walk past busy restaurants and bars packed with what you could only assume were England fans based on the noise. Cole squeezes your hand every so often, he can feel his palms become clammy when you look up at him. He still couldn’t believe his luck. After the first time he met you he couldn’t get you out of his mind. He was glad you made the first move though, otherwise you probably wouldn’t have been in this position now. Once you reach somewhere quieter Cole lets go of your hand and wraps his arm around your shoulder, pressing a kiss to your temple at the same time. “Are you nervous about tomorrow?” You ask him. You almost knew what he was about to say, “Not really. You know me.” He cracks a smile.

“I hope Southgate plays you, Cold Palmer.” You joke and poke his side playfully. “Me too. Hopefully I’ll get some time.” You end up sitting on a bench overlooking a river, the hustle and bustle far behind you now. “It’s really pretty here.” You mutter. “Not as pretty as you.” He winks as you roll your eyes. You continue talking for a while before Cole regretfully tells you it’s getting late and he probably needs to head back now. He places a quick peck on your lips and stands up, offering you a hand. “I’m so excited for tomorrow. Are you gonna score a goal for me Palmer?” You tease as you approach the hotel. He shakes his head at you and smiles. When you return to the hotel entrance he turns to face you, you look up at him and he swears his heart starts beating a hundred times faster. “I’ll see you after the game, okay? I love you.” He places a soft kiss on your lips making you blush. “Good luck babe. I love you too. You’re gonna smash it.” You wave him goodbye and open the door of the car, getting in and thank your driver for waiting.

You wake up the next morning with a nervous feeling in your tummy. It sticks around for pretty much the whole day. You feel especially nervous when getting dressed. You grabbed your England shirt that you’d hung carefully in the hotel wardrobe and put it on, turning around in the mirror to see the back. You’d always wanted to wear his shirt to a game. You snap a quick picture and keep it for later, maybe to post on Instagram. You knew the absolute carnage that would take place when you did. You arrive at the Olympiastadion Berlin in your families usual fashion, through the back in all blacked out vehicles with staff waiting for you at the other end. The nerves had well and truly kicked in now. You check your phone to see if Cole had texted you. You knew he wouldn’t be nervous, very sure in himself and the team’s quality but you wanted him to text you to ease your nerves. Your dad shook the hands of the staff that greeted you and you thanked them as they took you all up to your private box. You were sharing with a few other well known people, you eagerly greeted them with big smiles.

(We all know how the game went so we’ll just leave it at that.)

A devastating loss for England. You were gutted. But also immensely proud of Cole. He’d been subbed on in the seventieth minute and scored only three minutes later. The only goal for England that game. You headed down to the pitch once everything had calmed down and spotted Cole in the stands with his family. His eyes were glassy with tears as he spoke to his dad. You approach slowly and he notices you, standing up immediately and wrapping you in a tight hug. You could hear the snapping of cameras behind you but neither of you cared in that moment. “I’m sorry baby.” You spoke quietly as you pulled away, cupping one side of his face with your hand. “You were amazing.” He sniffled slightly, trying not to cry in front of you but failing miserably as he pulled you in again. You rubbed his back reached up to kiss his cheek. His dad walked towards the both of you and pats Cole on the back before sitting with Cole’s mum. “I can’t believe we lost.” He reaches up to dry his eyes as you pout and rub his arm. You turn around slightly hearing his sister call your name. “Love your shirt.” He smirks a bit, it clearly cheering him up. He wraps his arm around your shoulder as you begin chatting with his sister.

You’re on your way back to your hotel when your phone begins to blow up. Story after story about your relationship with Cole, using the picture they clearly got when you were consoling him after the game. You save the picture, setting it as your lockscreen and then posting the picture of you in his shirt from earlier to your Instagram story.

[mamamangaka]

(No one has posted this and I need it so I shall cook for myself)

- Yandere!Alastor with a g/n reader who likes toys and art stuff -

Okay so here’s the thing I kinda see about Alastor:

Hes a fucking looney who will do anything and everything to keep you if he happens to fall in love.

But lemme tell you if you break past those walls and manage to ameliorate his aceness to the point that he’s yandere about you then baby you done.

You might as well have signed over your soul to him.

I like to think only one thing in particular would peak his interest at first.

Maybe your drawing outside a coffee shop -

Or reading tarot cards at the park?

Perhaps even reading under a tree, who knows?

But whatever it is, Alastor saw you and he froze.

He never once expected to fall so deeply in love (especially not at first sight) and I feel that when he did finally succumb after a bit of denial, it would be a quick realization and he’d make a decision to seek you out immediately.

He’d closely stalk you for some time but when he gets you, he’d keep you in his radio tower, where no one else goes and where his world really is.

He’d probably kidnap you mere weeks after realizing he’s enamored, it wouldn’t take long before he came up behind you out of nowhere.

He was someone you’d only seen once or twice in passing but found attractive each time, though you weren’t exactly thinking about a partnership.

He wouldn’t be asking you, he’d simply take you.

(You didn’t need to know he’d been admiring you anyway.)

You weren’t someone of great power or who was well known. You simply met a tragic fate and unfortunately ended up here by mistake due to being involved in “black magic”.

It was unfair, in your opinion, to be cast down simply due to your divination talents and history.

Never once did you misuse your gifts yet here you were.

When you come around, you’re in Alastor room in the hotel.

He explains the situation and gives you options.

You ask to go, not interested in whatever he’s offering and he explains that’s not an option so you need to pick another one.

After demanding to leave, trying to open the door, banging and calling for help and eventually pleading and sobbing with him, you realize you aren’t going anywhere.

You wheep and hoarsely beg as he carries you into the wooded area that seems to pocket into another place.

You realize later that it was a path to the radio tower.

There’s a wooden door that leads to his own personal “home” in that tower.

And inside, I’d expect it’s quite nice.

Greenery everywhere, plants and/or herbs hanging from the ceiling and a cozy woodstove. Lovely flowers and pretty trees surrounding the outside, blocking the view of the horrors that hell had naturally.

A earthy, modest but very comfortable and exquisite environment and cottage style house with at least one library on hand.

But he can take all this beauty away quite easily, so don’t forget or step out of line. The view is a luxury he gives based on your behavior; do not tread lightly.

Now, he’s very commanding and strict with his darling, often times dictating what they eat and wear, bossing them around and physically moving them to where he wants.

• “My little doe, you were simply taking too much time to get to me, I was just helping you along.”

• “Oh darling, don’t you know I’m doing this for your own good? Don’t cry, come here: give me a kiss.”

• “No no, little doe. It’s best if you rest right now. Ah, yes, I can see you don’t want to sleep. How about I read to you or turn the radio on, hm?”

But he’s also super old timey and you would immediately be considered his spouse, and he would pamper and treat you with such respect (at least as much as he could)

If he found out you liked dolls or soft toys, well he’d be all over that and try to use it to his advantage.

I feel like it would be a rag doll copy of himself or a porcelain/ball jointed doll (dressed in 1920-1950 attire) as a Victorian styled Queen or what not.

• “You seem so lonely honey bun, so I picked you up something nice. Hopefully it will warm you a little when you think of me.”

• “I can see you fiddle with your hands a lot, mi amor. Here, have a doll to dress and play with for when your pretty hands need a break from the books.”

• “Oh my, it seems a nap is in order for your crankiness. Where is your toy? It’s better for you to have something to sleep with while I’m doing the broadcast.”

But he wouldn’t have bought it for you, oh no, because the only thing he buys you is the most pristine art supplies and most flattering jewelry and clothes —

— he’d have made this himself for you, from his own power.

And he’d use it to keep an eye on you no matter where you happened to be.

Needed a moment alone? Not without the doll he gave you.

Was hiding from punishment? Not without the doll.

If you left it somewhere in a vain attempt for distance, you’d find it on your person the second you reached in your bag or turned around.

And when Alastor found out you left it? He’d be livid.

But you wouldn’t know he was mad by his face, only his voice and the static crackle in the background.

• “Don’t you ever leave that doll again sweetheart. Do you understand me?”

• “This is how I protect you, darling. It’s best for everyone if you follow direction.”

• “Now honey, you don’t want to lose your privilege to wander around the hotel and mingle with the others, do you? Then you best keep that doll close, hm?”

If you possibly took a liking to the doll he gave you, well..

His heart might soar, he won’t lie

How cute and innocent you were, so completely unaware of the horrors he possesses — the doll possesses — if you step out of line

It’s something he really loves about you; you trust him (mostly bc you have to)

And if you took up sewing to make outfits for the doll?? He’d be so over the moon and even conjure up a little wardrobe for them if enough clothes are made.

And your drawings??? Oh don’t even get me started

too late I did it myself here I go

He would parade you around like you were the messiah of the demonic art world

It didn’t matter if you or anyone else thought you were good

You like doing it? Hes gonna over indulge you.

You drew something just for him???

Then it’s getting a golden frame and you’re getting the radio host fame.

He wouldn’t let anyone touch your sketchbook. He’d actually kill anyone who destroys any piece of your work.

He always coos over you, he’s literally obsessed with you.

Admires you while your drawing like you are the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen.

Always begs to see your drawings.

Does everything in his power to help you with inspiration or getting out of art block.

Hangs up his favorite pieces you’ve done around the hotel and talks you up to everyone.

• “My my, who would have guessed my little doe was so full of talent? Ah-ha, well me, of course!”

• “Oh yes, they’re nothing short of extraordinary and excel in everything they attempt. It’s absolutely magnificent.”

• “Quite the looker, aren’t they? It’s no wonder I fell so hard, they made this old withering heart beat once more.”

NOW LETS ADDRESS THE ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM:

What if you broke a rule? Either accidental or on purpose?

*rubs palms together deviously*

I mean it’s hell, so it’s not like you could actually die and he’d permanently lose you, but I could see him considering killing, traumatizing and horrifying you to make a point for when you came back. If you broke the rule on purpose or left the hotel without a damn good reason or asking him, I definitely think he’d ponder on it.

But I honestly don’t know if he’d be able to go that far if he’s to the point that he’s fallen for you.

I definitely think he’d be the kind to chain you away for a bit and ignore you for a while after really scaring you though, having only come in when you cry out for him or need to be attended.

He’d be condescending and emotionally manipulating for sure.

• “Well dear, we wouldn’t be in this predicament if you would have just listened and been good, hm?”

• “No no, you can’t come downstairs. I told you this time out is for two weeks. It’s been only two days darling.”

•“Now that’s not the way one of such class as ourselves behave. Shush your crying, my sweet.”

He wouldn’t tolerate a darling openly defying him, he’d put you over his knee and bruise your behind so quick and wouldn’t think twice.

And getting off punishments easy? Nah.

Good behavior or not, you’re gonna be going through the whole thing every single time. He won’t let you have even an ounce of wiggle room on that.

Your bottom stings after only thirty spanks? He isn’t stopping. He said 50 and he meant it, so buckle up buttercup, this is gonna be a long ride.

You don’t want to finish your plate? Well that’s a nice opinion, quite cute! .. but he doesn’t recall asking you what you wanted, so eat up ~

You aren’t tired? Well, allow him the pleasure of wearing you out and soothing you to slumber.

I think he’d allow the darling to cling to him though, that’s the kind of yandere I see him as. He’d maybe mock you a little at first and seem patronizing but all in all, he finds the need to touch him endearing and he does become fond of it.

I think he’d make you dependent on it, really. He’d always encourage you to cuddle up to him, always making sure you sit or stand directly next to him and that’s he’s always got his arm around you or you hanging onto his own.

He’d be tolerant of your crying. I think he’d find you cute while in distress, so that would be his favorite time to hold you tight. He’d caress your tearstreaks and kiss away the droplets.

•“Sweet sugar plum, you’ve been so emotional lately.”

• “Pretty crybaby, what can I do to make you feel better? Come now, there must be something your husband can whip up for you.”

“Oh, my poor, darling y/n..” he’d tsk, stroking the side of your face and nuzzling noses, “don’t cry, hush now, it’s alright, your faithful and devoted protector is here.”

[bratzforchris]

You Are In Love

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Summary: You and Luke have been through so many ups and downs and life adventures together, that he decides it's finally time to show you how much he loves you. Part 3 to the sugar daddy!Luke series (but can be read as a standalone!).

Pairing: Sugar daddy!Luke x feminine reader

Warnings: age gap relationship (college student x older male), sugar daddy/baby and dom/sub dynamics, unprotected p in v, oral (m receiving), marking, dirty talk, hooking up, fingering, overstimulation, fluffy ending (i think that's all but lmk if i missed something in the comments!)

Word Count: 7.5k

A/N: hi besties! i'm officially done with this semester of college so i finally had some time to write and finish up this story that i've been working on all month :) i hope you all love it! happy holidays you guys<3

(p.s. this is based off of "You Are In Love" by taylor swift<3)

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“Luke!” You squealed, writhing under him as he tickled you. “Stop!” You gasped for air, giggling beyond belief. 

“Or what?” he asked. 

“Or we have to get up and go get those matching Burberry coats I sent you last week.” You smirked, looking up at him with soft doe eyes. 

The blond hummed, kissing your neck softly. “We can do that anyway, baby girl.”

“Luke,” You whined again. “I was kidding. I don’t need them.”

“Ah ah,” he tutted, running his pointer finger along your chin as he laid down beside you. “No pouting, honey. That’s the point of having a sugar daddy, is it not?” he asked. 

You blushed, hiding your face in his hairy chest. “Mhm. I think we should keep having snuggle time first, though.” 

“If you insist.” Luke yawned, kissing your forehead and pulling your naked body closer to his own on the silk sheets. 

You two had just finished a rather spicy scene and now you were simply content to lay in bed and cuddle on the chilly, Saturday afternoon. Luke had a way like that. You could just lay in silence with him for hours and not get bored. You laid your head on his strong chest as he pulled out his phone, scrolling through his work emails before migrating to Instagram. The blond’s whole aura was so calming, that even the most mundane things he had to do mesmerized you. 

You watched as a smile grew on Luke’s face. “What?” You asked. 

“Remember this?” he asked you, tilting the phone so you could see the post.

It was an Instagram memory from a year and a half ago. It was of you and Luke at one of Columbia’s charity balls, dressed in black tie. That night was still one of your favorite memories. Since then, you two had grown so much, both as individuals and together. You would be receiving your undergrad degree in May from Columbia and Luke was on top of the world with the current stock market. Your relationship had grown as well, moving away from the sugar daddy/baby dynamic. Your relationship was no longer transactional, and Luke absolutely loved to show you off to the world. He still spoiled you beyond belief, both with material things and with a freakishly active sex life, especially now that you were living in his humongous  penthouse apartment with him. Despite all this, you began to let your mind wander as you laid on Luke’s chest, thinking back to that night last May. 

One look, dark room, meant just for you. You gazed across the ballroom of The Plaza Hotel, watching the tall blond. His curls cascaded against his face in an almost princelike way, but you couldn’t deny that he was looking at you. You sipped your ginger ale that had been poured in a champagne flute, hoping the dimness of the room would hide your blush. Time moved too fast, and before you knew it, he was standing next to you. 

“Hey,” he hummed in a luxuriously deep voice. “Having fun?”

“Mhm!” You nodded, trying your best to appear that you were, especially since you didn’t know exactly who he was. 

“You’re better than me,” he chuckled, downing the last of his cocktail. “I hated these things when I was here.”

“Oh?” You asked, your interest piqued. 

“Luke Hemmings,” he nodded, holding his hand out for you to shake. “Columbia grad.”

“Oh,” You bit your lip, trying to hide your shock. “I know you, I think.” 

“Most people do, sweetheart.” he chuckled. 

“You’re big on Wall Street, right?”

Luke nodded brushing closer to you. The blond was clearly happy that you knew who he was, and it was evident as he pressed himself closer to you, brushing the buttons of his coat against your emerald green, silken gown. “Not nearly the biggest.” he laughed lightheartedly. 

The sound made you swell up with happiness. Luke’s laugh was unusual for a body like his, but it suited him so well. It was warm and sunshiney, just like his smile and the golden curls that engulfed him in his own personal halo. 

“So, do you have a name? Or are you just the mysterious pretty girl?” he chuckled. 

The feeling that this beautiful (not to mention wealthy) man wanted to know who you were made the butterflies in your stomach take flight. You gazed up at him, studying his stubble and his beautiful, full lashes, before you trailed your eyes down to his plump, pink lips. You knew he was older; you were still only a sophomore at the university, after all, but despite not having any proof, you had seen enough to know that Luke was looking for more than just a conversation. 

“I’m Y/N Y/L/N,” You smiled softly, brushing back against him. “You’re really nice.”

Luke chuckled, wrapping an arm around you. Instead of shrinking back like you would if any other man did that, you melted into the blond’s touch, noting how warm and soft he was. He stayed silent for a moment, before gazing down at you. “So, would you wanna get out of here?” he asked. 

“With a man I just met?” You joked. 

“It’s just a question. Up to you.” he whispered huskily into your ear. 

You nodded, a sudden streak of boldness running through you. “Y’know what? Why not?”

Luke smiled, grabbing your hand and leading you through the crowd as you dodged some of your professors, university faculty, waiters, and esteemed party goers in general. Once you made it out into the main hallway of the hotel, you breathed a sigh of relief. The lobby was nearly empty, which wasn’t surprising, seeing as it was almost midnight. The plush carpet sank under your feet as you and Luke walked up to the valet desk. The staff didn’t even need a name, they simply hurried off to retrieve the blond’s car. 

“Are you cold?” he asked, holding your hand as you walked down the grand marble steps to the sidewalks of New York City. 

“A little bit…” You admitted sheepishly, a blush dotting your cheeks for probably the fiftieth time that evening. 

Luke smiled softly, pulling off his suit jacket and wrapping it around your shoulders. “Better?”

You nodded softly, breathing in the scent of his expensive cologne. “Thank you, Luke.”

As you spoke, a sleek black car pulled up to the curb and the driver hopped out, opening the doors for you and Luke. You didn’t miss the Bentley logo on the hood as you carefully stepped in, noting the fine Italian leather. Luke stepped into the driver’s seat beside you, immediately revving the car up and pulling out into the never-ending traffic of the city. 

“What did you have in mind?” You asked your newfound partner. 

“Whatever you like,” Luke smirked. “But there is a beautiful French coffee shop near here that’s open all night?” 

“Sounds perfect.” You said graciously, smiling at him from the passenger side. 

“So,” the blond started, making small talk. “What’s your major?”

You smiled over at him. Luke’s eyes were genuine as he pulled into a parking deck near the cafe. Before you could even answer, he was parking and helping you out of the car. He was such a gentleman, it almost made you wonder why he was talking to you instead of any other girl. You held onto the blond’s arm as he helped you out, smiling up at him. 

“Journalism,” You said happily, always willing to talk about your major and passions. “I wanna be a music journalist.”

Luke smiled, holding your hand as you walked down the levels to the street. “I’ve always loved music. When I’m not working, that is. Wall Street doesn’t give a ton of time for much else…unless it’s something I really want.”

As you two walked into the cafe, you couldn’t help but to notice the chain of your necklace, reflecting in the lights of the city that never slept. Luke opened the door for you and led you into the establishment, easily ordering you both a coffee. You sat down at the table in the corner while you waited, trying not to let how giddy you were with nerves show. 

“Do you have a certain time you need to be back by?” Luke asked you, checking his golden Rolex as the waitress placed a fancy coffee in front of you both.

You shrugged, looking him up and down with a flirty look. “Not unless you’re ready to be rid of me.” You hummed, twirling a strand of your hair. 

Most people probably wouldn’t believe you unless they were your best friends, but despite your studious personality, you loved to flirt. Besides, who wouldn’t want to see what a billionaire CEO who was not lacking in looks had in mind? You could see it in Luke’s blue eyes that he was having similar thoughts as he searched your own.  You smirked at his reaction, biting your lap as he placed one of his large, ring-clad hands on your knee. 

“Finish your drink then we can get out of here.” he said, almost like a command. 

You hurriedly did as he said, enjoying the rich, French coffee that warmed you from the inside out. You could practically see Luke’s eyes clouding over with want for you, and you longed to see what his chest looked like free from the white button-down he was sporting. As soon as you had finished your last sip, he was pulling you up and out of the shop, smiling fondly at you as you wandered back to his car. 

“There are some…rules we need to follow if we’re gonna go further.” Luke hummed as you both got in the car. 

“I understand,” You said sweetly, looking at him. “Go on.”

“I’m not looking for anything serious right now. I just want to make that clear. I want someone I can fuck and spoil without having to worry about…everything else,” the blond said, looking at you honestly. “Kinda like a sugar baby.” a smirk grew on his face. 

“Oh,” You said, flushing red. “That’s okay with me.” Your voice was sultry as you spoke. 

You knew Luke. You had done research on the top investment bankers on Wall Street for one of your classes and lo and behold there he was, number one at just twenty-six years old. It wasn’t even the money that was that enticing, though. It was just Luke as a person. Ever since you had seen him on your laptop screen, you had been in awe of him. He was absolutely beautiful, in a way that made him seem unreal; almost like he belonged with the gods instead of on Earth. The fact that someone like that wanted to be around you, sexually or not, was gratifying. 

“Second of all, you’re going to have to sign an NDA, sweetheart. No one else can know you hang around me, nor can they know where any gifts you get come from. Deal?” Luke asked, a hungry expression in his blue eyes. 

“Deal.” You nodded firmly. 

The blond snaked his large hand around the nape of your neck, pulling you across the console of the car as he began to kiss you. His tongue was soft and warm and tasted like a mix of coffee and the bourbon he must’ve consumed earlier in the evening. You kissed Luke back just as fervently, moving your hands to tangle in his honey-blond curls. It didn’t matter that this man was a billionaire you had just met. He tasted like both heaven and sin, as if he could save you, and make you do awful things. The scent of Hugo Boss Bottled was absolutely intoxicating on this man, making you want to bury your nose in his chest and stay there forever. 

“So, would you like to take this back to mine?” Luke asked softly, but with lust clouding his voice. 

You nodded quickly, and Luke planted one last kiss on your already swollen lips, starting the car. He quickly pulled out into the streets, zipping in between cars as he sped towards southern Central Park. You almost didn’t believe where he was going until the supertall, luxury high rises made of glass and steel came into view. You didn’t know why you had wondered where Luke lived; of course he lived on Billionaire’s Row with all the other businessmen and mega-celebrities. 

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Luke asked as he pulled up to the valet in the parking garage of his building. 

“It’s amazing,” You muttered, craning your head back as you observed the night sky that was aglow with the lights from all of the buildings. “It’s like something out of a movie.”

“Just wait until you see my penthouse.” Luke snuck the word that just affirmed his wealth into the sentence, kissing your cheek and placing a sneaky hand on your ass as he handed his keys to the valet. 

You leaned into his touch, looking up at him as he grinned down at you. Taking your hand, Luke led you to a slightly discreet elevator, smiling softly. “Up to mine.”

“You have your own elevator?” You didn’t know why you sounded so shocked. 

Luke chuckled. “Yes, sweetheart. I have my own elevator.”

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he led you into the fine, marble elevator. With the walls being made of glass, you could practically see the whole of New York City underneath you as you rose higher and higher. Luke’s hand hadn’t left your ass the whole time, and your heart raced at the thought of what the night held. Finally, you docked and the doors opened, allowing the blond to lead you into his penthouse apartment. 

“It’s beautiful.” You mumbled, breathlessly as you surveyed the humongous living room. 

“Sit down,” Luke nodded to the large L-shaped couch. “I’ll be right back.”

You carefully sat down on the white, plush couch tentatively, afraid of staining it or ruining it somehow because you were sure this couch cost more than you spent in three months. Your eyes darted around the apartment, noticing how everything was absolutely spotless and all white. It was a very neat apartment for a young bachelor, but then again, Luke probably had a maid. The blond returned shortly after, having ditched his suit jacket and brandishing papers and a bottle of Cabernet. 

“Would you like some?” he asked, reaching for wine glasses that were sitting on a crystal tray on the coffee table. 

“No thank you.” You blushed. 

Nevermind that you were only twenty. You were just terrified of spilling red wine on his white carpet and couch, not to mention your silk dress. Luke didn’t seem to mind, though. He just poured himself a glass and then pushed the papers and a fine, wooden pen towards you. His blue eyes held an almost soft honesty as he spoke to you, his curls that had been gelled back for the night falling loose. 

“This is an NDA. It has nothing to do with you. It’s just for my safety, and so the magazines don’t come after me or you. Understand?” he asked. 

You nodded, kissing his cheek that was much softer than you had expected. “I know what an NDA is, silly.”

Luke blushed, and you saw a hint of who he was out of the public eye. “I’m really sorry if this is awkward. I just…I think I come off more confident than I really am.”

“I understand,” You said honestly. “For what it’s worth, you’ve been so kind to me this evening.”

The blond gave you a crooked smile, pushing the papers. “Sign and then we can do something else.” he winked. 

You quickly signed the papers without a second thought and then turned to Luke. “What else were you thinking of?”

Luke grabbed you by the hips, pulling you across the couch and into his lap. Hoisting your emerald dress up your legs, you straddled him, looking down into his crystal eyes. Luke held both of his hands across your ass, pulling you closer to him as he began to softly suckle on your neck. You practically moaned at the feeling, bracing yourself against his broad shoulders. 

“Is that okay?” the blond asked, pulling back to look at you. 

“It’s better than okay.” You smiled, pecking his lips. 

Luke ran the hickeys down from behind your ear, across your collarbone, and then to your breasts. Unconsciously, you began to grind into his lap, feeling the blond’s bulge underneath you. He began to slowly bounce you on his leg, soft, erotic moans leaving his mouth as he unzipped the back of your dress. You whined at the feeling of your already-dampening panties at the way Luke ran his hands along your body and the noises that fell from his lips. 

“God, Y/N. You’re so fuckin’ hot,” he whispered huskily. “Wanna take you to my bed and fuck you until your little cunt can’t cum anymore.”

You whimpered at his dirty talk, pushing yourself into him. “Luke, please.”

He easily stood up, despite holding you, and carried you deeper inside the apartment. His bedroom was just as luxurious as the rest of the house, and the blond softly placed you on his California king bed, smiling softly at the way your silk dress fanned out on the sheets. You blushed under his gaze, well aware of the heat flaming your cheeks. Luke placed another kiss to your lips, undoing his tie. 

“So goddamn beautiful.”

You couldn’t help the little giggle that escaped you as Luke showered you with praises. He smirked softly at how cute you were, slipping his thumbs under the straps of your dress. You pushed yourself up to meet his hands, moaning softly as you arched your back. 

“May I?” he asked. 

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his back as he slid the dress off of you, smirking at your bare boobs and white thong. Luke bent, leaving a kiss on your wet underwear as he slowly pulled off your golden, strappy heels. After he tossed the shoes across the room, Luke began to unbutton his own white, dress shirt, giving what you had wanted all evening. You were practically salivating as Luke rid himself of his shirt, leaving you to revel in the glory of his chest.

He had the perfect mix of lean and slightly squishy on his body. His hairy chest mingled with the silver chain around his neck, which trailed down to his milky tummy, and then to the happy trail that snaked its way into his waistband. 

“Do you like what you see?” the blond asked you with a chuckle. 

You nodded eagerly as he climbed into bed with you in his gray, Calvin Klein boxers. “I can see why you were GQ’s Man of the Year.” You said breathlessly, still in awe of him. 

“Oh, so you’ve been looking at me before, baby?” a smirk dawned the blond’s lips as he climbed on top of you, flicking his tongue across your breasts. 

You whimpered at the feeling of him across your sensitive skin, running your nails along his back. “Show me I won’t be disappointed.” You told him. 

Luke began to softly suckle on your tits, leaving more hickeys as he trailed down from your chest to your stomach, then to the waist of your underwear. “May I?” he asked, snapping the white elastic. 

You nodded quickly, bucking your hips up to meet the boner that was growing in his boxers. “Please. Just fuck me. That’s what you wanted, right?” You asked, fluttering your lashes. 

Luke smiled, kissing your cheek softly. “You’re a fast learner, baby girl. You sure you’ve never been a fuck doll before?” the blond hooked his thumbs around your panties, slowly and teasingly smiling as he pulled them down your hips. 

You didn’t have time to respond, because Luke began to slowly rub his thumb over your clit, to which you let out a gasp. He began to speed up the rhythm, smirking as he felt your legs clench around him. You moved your hands from his back upwards, tangling them in his strawberry blond curls. Luke began to use his other hand to slowly slide in and out of you, his fingers gliding easily because of how wet you were. 

“Luke,” You moaned out, bucking your hips up closer to him. “Gonna cum soon.”

That just made the blond tease you more, glee in his blue eyes as he continued to pleasure your entire pussy. Tears were coming to your face as you held back, that white-hot feeling building up in your lower stomach. To stimulate you more, Luke began to rub his clothed dick against you slightly, enjoying the moans that fell from your lips at the friction. You were both panting and moaning until finally, Luke kissed your pubic bone. 

“Go ahead, baby,” he hummed. “Cum all over my fingers.”

You didn’t need to be told twice to do what Luke asked. You immediately clenched around his graceful fingers, whimpering as you came. Collapsing back onto the pillows, you just caught Luke sucking his fingers off, looking so sinfully beautiful. 

“You taste so fuckin’ good, Y/N,” Luke moaned, beginning to stroke his cock through his underwear. “Think you’re capable of another round?”

You nodded quickly, looking up at him. “Let me.” You said, placing your hand over his own. 

“Well, if you insist.” Luke smirked, practically ripping off his underwear. 

His dick stood tall now, throbbing as it practically begged for you to touch it. You got on your knees, looking up at the blond with a smile as you ran your tongue across his tip. You knew he would be too big to take all of him, so you slowly began to take his cock into your mouth, bobbing your head back and forth while pumping his base when you hit the back of your throat. Luke threw his head back with a moan, pushing his hips towards you. 

“Feels so good, Y/N. Oh my god…” he panted as you sucked him off. 

Luke began to grip your hair as you bobbed your head up and down. He could feel his dick twitching in your mouth, begging for him to claim you and cum all down your throat. The blue-eyed man gripped your hair, pulling you closer to him. Without warning, he released thick, white ropes of cum shooting down your throat. Luke pulled off so you could breathe easier, but he didn’t miss the slutty smirk that was decorating your face. 

“You like that?” he asked. 

You nodded eagerly, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “Yummy.” You giggled.

Luke kissed your forehead, caressing your naked body. “You are so, so perfect. Think you can hold up for one more? I need to be inside of you.” he said, beginning to passionately kiss you. 

You moaned against his warm, plump lips as Luke massaged your breasts while kissing you. Before you knew it, you had moved to straddle his lap, moving your hips in teasingly slow circles. Luke grunted, moving to grab your ass. 

“Gonna act like a slut, gonna get treated like one.” he hummed, thrusting his dick inside your folds. 

You moaned at the feeling of suddenly being so full, bouncing on his lap to adjust. “Oh my god…” You breathed out. “So big.”

Luke smirked at that, his ego being fueled. He pinned you down to the bed, beginning to ride you. His thrusts were fast and sloppy, but they were oh-so-powerful. You could hear that sound of his headboard hitting the wall as he railed you, and you were silently thankful that Luke had the whole floor to himself. Your silence didn’t last long though, for Luke hit your G-spot, making you cry out. 

“Gonna cum.” You whimpered, tears pricking your eyes as you tried to withstand the overstimulation. 

“You can do it, baby girl,” the blond coached you. “Hang on longer, princess.”

You wrapped your legs around Luke’s hips as he continued to pound into you. Your second orgasm was always much faster than your first, and right now was no exception. You sobbed at the feeling of needing to cum so badly, but despite how your emotions appeared, you were really loving this. You gripped the silken sheets in your hands as you writhed under him, until Luke finally kissed your tear-stained, sweaty cheek. 

“Show me how good you can cum on my cock, baby.” Luke growled in your ear. 

You immediately clenched around Luke’s dick, letting go. It was the best orgasm you had ever had, and you knew Luke could tell by the way he was smirking at you. You were still panting and riding out your high when the blond’s dick twitched inside of you and he quickly pulled out, cumming on your thighs. 

“Uh uh…” You panted, staring up at him completely fucked out. “Good pull out game.” You chuckled when you caught your breath. 

Luke smiled, kissing your cheek. “What else would you take me for, baby girl?” he hummed. 

He pulled a pack of wet wipes from his nightstand, wiping both you and himself down before he gave you another heated kiss on the lips. The blond patted your ass softly, in an almost shooing motion. “Get on out of here and get some rest,” Luke cooed. “Call me tomorrow. There should be something waiting for you on the kitchen counter.”

You hurriedly pulled on your silky dress. Your heart dropped a bit as you watched Luke toy around on his phone, that is, until he looked up at you through his lashes, telling you he ordered you a private car to take you back to your residence hall. The blond gave you one last kiss as you left the room, reminding you to check the counter. As you wandered into the kitchen, you saw a rather stuffed envelope with your name on it laying on the marble countertops. 

Your jaw dropped as you opened the package to reveal an enormous stack of cash. You quickly began to count it, speaking softly to yourself. There was over a thousand dollars in that one envelope. You shot Luke a quick thank you text, hurrying out of his home and down to the idling car for you, a smile gracing your face at the thought of your newly found sugar daddy. 

“Whatcha thinking about?” Luke asked, tapping your nose. 

“Sorry,” You blushed, realizing how long you’d been zoned out for. “Just thinking about you, I guess.”

“Oh?” he asked, cocking his brow. 

“Just how much I love you.” You smiled, snuggling closer to his chest. 

“I love you,” Luke hummed, pulling you closer to him. “That night changed my life for the better.”

You smiled when you saw the softer side of Luke’s personality peeking out. You knew that below his stock market aficionado personality, Luke was still a soft, sweet little boy. You had discussed the things from his childhood before, which is why Luke had had a rather hard time staying in long-term relationships. That is, until he met you. The same effect Luke on you, you had on him. He felt that spoiling you and loving you gave him a purpose outside of work. You loved him for more than his job, status, or wealth. When you two were together, he was just Luke, and you were just Y/N. 

“I changed my mind,” You hummed as you cuddled up with Luke. “I don’t want to go get those coats now. I’d rather stay in and watch a movie.”

“Are you sure?” Luke asked, always looking for a way to spoil you. 

“I’m sure,” You nodded. “You know I’ll never turn down naked cuddles.” You winked. 

The blond chuckled, kissing your forehead. “Whatever princess wants, princess gets. Just don’t forget, we have dinner reservations tonight.”

You smiled, hugging him. “We should watch a movie.”

“Would you like to?” he asked, running a hand through his hair. 

You nodded, sitting up and wrapping your pink, silk robe around yourself.  You tugged Luke’s hand so that he would get up and do the same. Your boyfriend pulled on a pair of loose, gray sweatpants that hung low on his hips, allowing your eyes to trail from his happy trail up to his broad chest. You shook your head and grabbed Luke’s hand, tugging him to the kitchen. 

“C’mon, we gotta make coffee first.”

Luke smiled at your antics, chuckling softly. Despite the fact that you were only less than seven years apart, he felt that you kept him “young”. Having never been able to have a real childhood due to studying and watching his father’s empire grow, Luke enjoyed seeing the childlike joy spread across your face. You plugged in the espresso machine while Luke pulled two mugs down from the cabinet. You giggled when you saw the pink, Hello Kitty mug in his large hands, looking up at him softly. 

“I remember that one,” You said, standing on your tiptoes and kissing Luke’s cheek. “You bought it for the very first time I spent the night.”

“That I did,” the blond said, wrapping his arms around you from behind while you started the coffee. “For my girl.” he hummed, leaving a kiss on your neck. 

“You bought me my own mug?” You asked Luke as he pulled them down from the cabinet, filling the pink mug with coffee for you. 

“Why wouldn’t I?” he chuckled, passing the cup of warm liquid to you. 

“I dunno,” You shrugged, looking out the window down on the people of New York City to avoid Luke’s eyes. “I guess I just thought we were mostly…physical.” You blushed. 

It was Sunday morning and you were sat at Luke’s kitchen island, hair messy and in a white lace nightie. It was the first time you’d ever spent the night with him, and you had been pleasantly surprised. Luke had cared for you much more than you’d expected him to, showering you with praises and even currently puttering around the kitchen, making you breakfast. You could see the smirk decorating Luke’s face at the term physical as he turned towards the toaster. 

“Shit!” he yelped, drawing you out of your thoughts. 

“Are you okay?” You asked hurriedly, coming around the island as Luke ran his hand under cold water in the sink. 

“Burnt the toast,” the blond huffed, gesturing towards the plate that was responsible for his injury. “Goddamn it.”

Sure enough, the small, white saucer held two pieces of absolutely blackened bread that was nowhere near edible. You chuckled as you scraped the “toast” into the trash, kissing Luke’s cheek. “I’m sorry, are you okay?”

He nodded, wrapping his arms around you once he had dried his hands off. “Now that I’m holding you I am. What do you say we go out for breakfast, yeah? I know a wonderful Colombian place that we can have privately.”

You smiled, looking into Luke’s blue eyes and then down at your nightie. “I would love to, but uh, I don’t have ‘proper’ clothes to wear.”

Your clothes from last night were covered in a…variety of substances, and you didn’t deem them appropriate for going out anywhere, but especially not to a high-class restaurant with a billionaire. Luke didn’t seem to mind though, he just took your hand and drug you to his closet, throwing the doors open. Everything was organized in an absolutely immaculate way; pressed shirts hung just right, pants folded perfectly in Ikea dressers, shoes stacked neatly on shelves, and a rotating belt hanger. Before you knew it, Luke had rummaged together an outfit for you, consisting of a white button-down that would be a stylish shirt dress on you, a New York Yankees baseball cap, and some gold jewelry. 

“How many times have you done this before?” You asked somewhat seriously as you began to dress. 

“What? Take care of a woman? Plenty.” he grumbled. 

You blushed under the lustful glare in his eyes, knowing you were working him up and loving it. “I was kidding, you know.”

“I know. I just think it’s cute how you pretend to be so big and bad like you weren’t screaming my name last night, baby doll. By the way, keep the shirt.” Luke flashed you a smile that was much whiter than the average person’s was, but your tummy flared with butterflies nonetheless. 

You nodded, breathing in the scent of Hugo Boss Bottled again as you finished dressing. You had no plans of getting rid of anything he gave you. You were so attached to him that you knew it was stupid, but Luke was just so captivating. You understood now why women had been fawning over the blond for years. 

“Are you ready to go?” he asked. 

You nodded once more, and Luke took your hand, leading you down to his car. Today he had decided on driving the Range Rover, and once you were both seated comfortably (and he had made a call to arrange private dining at the restaurant), he began to speak. “You know just because you’re a sugar baby doesn’t mean I don’t value you, right?”

You looked across the console at Luke as he pulled out into the busy streets of New York City, admiring the sharp curve of his jaw and the slope of his nose as his sunglasses cast shadows onto his face. “Go on.”

“I just…I feel a connection to you, Y/N. I enjoy having you in my life, baby girl,” Luke paused for a moment, gripping the steering wheel before speaking again. “You make me feel good. Better than I have in years, actually. Both mentally and emotionally.” he looked over the bridge of his sunglasses to make sure you were listening. 

You blushed, your cheeks flaming under the brim of the baseball hat. “That’s very kind, Luke. Thank you.” You reached across the console to where his right hand rested, pressing yours on top of his own larger, ring-clad one. 

“And I have this promise to you that I want to keep. I want to make this work.” he spoke as he pulled up beside a restaurant, watching as a valet came hurrying out. 

“I think we can, Luke. I think we can.” You said, leaning over the console and pressing a passionate kiss to his plump, pink lips. 

You were absolutely ready to let go of the fears and ghosts you had and just be. Luke made you feel different. He gratified you physically, emotionally, and mentally, and that was exactly what you needed.

“Hello, earth to Y/N. You zoned out again. Coffee’s done.” Luke hummed, tapping your shoulder. 

“Sorry,” You said, ears turning pink. “I guess I’ve just been thinking a lot lately.”

“About…?” Luke questioned, taking his mug and padding to the living room. 

“I dunno. Us? How we got here?”

Luke smiled as you sat down beside him, throwing an arm around you. “We got here because I couldn’t resist the body in that pretty emerald dress and then learned about the woman wearing it.” he chuckled, flicking on the TV. 

It hadn’t meant to be sexy, but you still blushed, hiding your face in his chest. “I know, it’s just…it’s hard to believe we’re in a long-term relationship when we started with the whole sugar baby thing.”

“Well, life is surprising that way,” Luke shrugged, navigating to the rom-coms section. “All I care about is the fact that I have my beautiful girl now. Mwah!” he said, planting an exaggerated kiss on your forehead as a movie began to play. 

As you two fell deeper into the plot of the meet-cute characters, you couldn’t help but to notice the silence between you and your lover. It wasn’t uncomfortable, not in the slightest, but it was almost like you could hear something in it, telling you how much you truly loved Luke. As surprising as it may have been to others, you knew the blond was your forever man. You were in love, true love at that. 

Before you knew it, the movie had ended and Luke was picking you up off the couch and throwing you over his strong shoulder. “Time to get ready for dinner.”

You giggled, wiggling in his arms. “Put me down!”

“Nope,” he said, popping the p. “I have something for you.”

Luke led you into your master suite, setting you down on the bed. You watched curiously as he went into the closet and then returned with a dress bag and a shoe box. You blushed and giggled as you saw the designer logos that were plastered on both. No matter how long you were with Luke, you would probably never get used to such spoiling. 

“What’s this?”

“Oh, just something for you to wear this evening,” he hummed. “I’m gonna go get ready.” Luke left a kiss on your cheek before grabbing the suit he’d laid out on the dresser and puttering to the bathroom. 

You slowly pulled the plastic back from the garment to reveal a beautiful, flowy red dress. You practically gasped in awe at the rich material, quickly sliding it over your head and marveling in the body mirror over how the dress hugged you perfectly, accenting your body in all the right places. 

“Wow,” Luke said breathlessly when he re-entered the bedroom. “You look amazing, my love.”

You blushed under his gaze, looking up at him. “Thank you. I was thinking of wearing red lipstick. Both because it matches the dress…and because it looks good on your face.”

Luke smirked, leaving kisses down your neck. “Please do.”

As you did your makeup and finished getting ready, you let your mind wander. Putting on your mascara is when the thought hit you. Would Luke propose tonight? You shook your head with a small laugh, thinking about how ridiculous the thought actually was. He would give you more of a heads up than that. You knew that Luke would propose one day, but it probably wouldn’t be on a random date night. 

“You ready, darling?” he asked, checking his watch as the Rolex logo glinted in the light of your vanity. 

“Mhm,” You nodded with a smile, standing up and taking his hand. “Always.”

“I booked us a driver for tonight,” Luke informed you as you two left the apartment. “That way it can be all about us.”

You smiled, snuggling closer to his arm. “That sounds perfect. Where are we headed?” You asked as you stepped into the sleek, black car with Luke. 

“You’ll see-” he smiled softly. 

You cut Luke’s sentence off by kissing his lips softly. Sometimes, you just couldn’t believe your boyfriend was real and had to kiss him, just to make sure. Your lover looked so much like a prince right now it was almost illegal. His navy blue suit complimented his blue eyes perfectly, and his light blond curls fell to his shoulder just right. In short, Luke looked absolutely dashing. 

“Hey, this area is familiar. There’s the hotel.” You smiled, nudging Luke’s shoulder. 

Sure enough, the car had stopped outside of the hotel you and Luke had met in so long ago, to which Luke smiled at you. “We have a quick errand before dinner. C’mon.” he smirked. 

The driver opened the door of the backseat for you and Luke, allowing you to step out onto the sidewalk in the chilly, New York City air. The sun hadn’t quite gone down yet, but it was enough to be cool and you pulled your jacket tighter around yourself. Luke took your hand, smiling softly and led you up the stairs and into the warmth of the lobby. 

“What are we doing here?” You asked as he led you towards that all-too-familiar ballroom. 

“I just thought we’d stop by. It is almost Christmas, after all,” he said, nodding towards the large tree in the corner of the ballroom. “What better time to do some reminiscing?”

You blushed softly as Luke led you to the center of the grand ballroom, underneath the luxurious, diamond chandelier. “Would you like to dance, Y/N?”

You nodded softly, trying to hide your embarrassed giggles as Luke played a waltz on his phone and began to spin you around. It was quiet here, allowing you to focus on nothing but Luke. Even though you had known for so long now, you realized just how in love you were with Luke. Looking into his eyes must’ve been what true love from all those princess stories felt like. All that mattered was that you had him and he had you. As the song came to an end, Luke brought you in close and kissed you softly, taking great care not to ruin your lipstick. You had thought that you two were done, that is, until Luke pulled back and got down on one knee, making your heart stop. 

“Y/N L/N, I love you more than anything ever. I have since the day I met you. You are my sun, my moon, and all of my stars. You have given me a reason to live. Will you marry me, Y/N?” Luke asked, a soft, crooked smile on his face as he opened the ring. 

“Yes!” You squealed, throwing your arms around his neck. “Yes, yes, yes!”

Luke picked you up and spun you around as a photographer stepped out from behind the tree, snapping photos. You couldn’t believe this was your life, especially when Luke slid the enormous diamond onto your finger, kissing your knuckles softly. You were so overwhelmed with love and tears that you hardly heard Luke speak to you. 

“We have one more place to go.” he whispered. “Shall we?” the blond led you to the car once again, but you stopped your lover, tugging on his arm. 

“It’s snowing!” You smiled, craning your neck up to gaze as the flurries fell on and around you. 

Luke took your hand, spinning you around in a soft dance. The light glinted off his eyes and brilliant white smile perfectly, making your new fiancé look like a real life angel. It was almost like you two were in a snowglobe, dancing round and round until you finally pulled each other into a deep kiss, ignoring the “awe”’s and snapping of photos by passing strangers. Luke quickly helped you into the car, directing the driver towards his office on Wall Street. 

“I know your job is demanding, hun, but do we really have to go into your work after we just got engaged?” You pouted and nudged the blond, knowing the effect it had on him. 

“Shhhh,” Luke hushed you with a kiss on the head. “We’re not going for work; I want to show you something.”

It wasn’t long until you had arrived at the large skyscraper and were in the ornate elevator, looking through the large, glass windows as you rose higher and higher above New York City. It was hard to believe Luke actually worked here, but you recalled the one night you had seen his checking account balance when he had left his laptop open, and it suddenly didn’t seem as crazy. Even though it was a Saturday evening, people bustled around the office shouting numbers and hurrying after their bosses. 

Luckily, Luke had a quiet, private office to which he threw the door open. “Ta-da.” he hummed softly. 

“You came here to show me your office?” You giggled. 

The blond shook his head, leading you over to the large, black desk. When you saw what he was referencing, you could’ve cried. There were several framed photos of you, all smiley and joyous that Luke had taken himself. Even on his desktop wallpaper was a photo of you when you two had gone to Turks and Caicos over the summer, plus a sticky note stuck to the monitor that said “Book Y/N’s Grad Trip”. 

You threw your arms around Luke’s neck as tears pricked your eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you more, baby girl,” he hummed, holding your ass in both hands and peppering your face with kisses. “How did I get so lucky?”

“I should be the one asking that question. I really understand now.”

“Understand what?” Luke asked, softly setting you down. 

“Why they lost their minds and fought the wars. Why people in romance novels are willing to give up everything for their lover.”

As you spoke, you could see tears brimming on Luke’s lower lash line. In all your time together, you had never seen the blond cry. You wrapped your arms around his waist, laying your head against his tall, broad shoulder. 

“We’re not going to dinner now.” Luke chuckled and sniffled, wiping his eyes with his thumb. 

“Why?” You asked curiously. 

“Because I want to fuck you until you can’t walk anymore, princess,” he smirked huskily. “I know the ring on your finger says it, but I wanna make you mine.”

“Well, if you do insist.” You giggled. 

Luke picked you up bridal style and carried you out of the office, not caring who was looking. They wouldn’t say anything to him anyway. And in that moment, you realized that you were in love. 

[radiant-reid]

Trick or Treat or Surprise

Summary: Halloween at the BAU is a big deal. Apparently, makeup mishaps also are

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (spicy fluff)

Content Warning: just a little making out

Word Count: 2.5k

Masterlist Navigation

Halloween was something Y/n had guessed wouldn't be such a big deal at the BAU. When she opens a black envelope that arrived on her desk one morning in mid-October, she realizes she was wrong.

Spencer's grinning, but it's not directed at her like it usually is. "What is this?" She asks, ripping the envelope open.

"One of the best days of the year." He replies excitedly. He's cute like that, and she wishes she could tell him. Everyone else misses the fact he previously referred to the 31st of October as the singular best day of the year. Not anymore when he has her birthday and their anniversary to celebrate.

Emily provides a more in-depth answer while they all open their envelopes. "It's Penelope's annual Halloween party. Probably the biggest of the year."

Y/n admires Penelope's innovation as she looks at the invitation, designed to look like an ouija board with the details written in bold, black lettering.

"I thought Halloween was just an excuse to get drunk with your friends once you're older than sixte- twenty-one." She jokes.

Penelope walks in from behind her. "It is very much not, my dear. It's a night to get dressed up, celebrate all things spooky-"

"And drink wine." Emily cuts her off.

"And drink wine." She agrees.

"Actually, it's not." Spencer jumps in to correct them as they make their way to the conference room, following behind them. "The tradition originated..."

He keeps going until he eventually gets told by Hotch that it's time to focus on the case while JJ whispers to Y/n. "Every year he does this." She makes a mental note to ask for the full story and pay him undivided attention when they get home.

The case they get send on ends on the 30th, something Penelope says she's thankful for due to the amount of perishable food she's put in Rossi's fridge, and Hotch lets everyone go early on the 31st, softer than he pretends for Penelope's parties.

It gives Y/n and Spencer enough time to go to her apartment before they have to split to get ready and arrive at Rossi's separately. She makes a point to ask about the origins of Halloween, getting to hear his little speech in the forty-five it takes to get home.

Once they're home and fed, a quick nap with cuddles is all they need. They're two luxuries they can't afford while working a case. They both stayed true to the rule about not sneaking into each other's hotel rooms, not that it hasn't been incredibly difficult.

Spencer always holds her close, tucking his head on top of hers and wrapping his arms tightly around her. Eventually, they shower together after some distractions. Then it's time for Y/n to start the long process of putting her costume on perfectly.

"What did you decide?" She asks Spencer, who's watching her from where he's sitting on her bed.

He's fussy about what he decides on, taking the day, in her opinion, a little too seriously. But allegedly, there are prizes for best dressed, and he doesn't want to lose to Morgan again, just because Morgan dressed- inaccurately, Spencer would argue- as a firefighter with his shirt off. She didn't tell her pouting boyfriend when he first told the story, but she supports Penelope's decision.

"He's a villain," Spencer tells her.

"Good." She agrees. "Keeping in line with our theme."

He nods. "I figure, if we can't do a couples costume, we might as well be in the same category."

"Oh my gosh." She laughs just at the thought of her idea. "Are you going dressed as Voldemort?"

"Y/n, you can't say his name." He chastises playfully. "But, no."

He's quiet after that, and she turns back to glare at him once she's put her underwear on. He's watching, admiring the view of his barely dressed girlfriend.

"What, you're not going to tell me?" She asks, jutting out her bottom lip for maximum effect.

"No, you're too annoying." He jokes, smirking. He never knew how fun it would be to have someone he can have repartee with, knowing he will never be judged for being himself.

Y/n knows how to get him talking, and she narrows her eyes as she walks over seductively. She throws her leg over his lap, straddling him as he gulps, repeating a mantra in his head about not giving in.

"Wanna tell me now?" She offers, hands running over his bare chest, thankful he left his dress shirt abandoned on the floor.

He shakes his head. "Not really." He braves touching her, stroking over the green lace of the cups of her bra. "This is cute."

When he goes to take it off, figuring they have enough time, she stops him. "Baby, not happening until you tell me."

"You'll see it in a couple of hours anyway." He whines, needy, hard in his pants and rutting up into her again. "But we might have to do it at Rossi's because you're going to struggle to keep it in your pants until we get home."

She scoffs, reaching down to palm his prominent bulge. "I'm not going to be able to keep it in my pants?"

Spencer groans a little, pushing her head forward so he can whisper against her ear. "It's a suit." He knows her weak spot. What he wears every day, his cute dress shirts and cardigans, don't compare to how hot he looks dressed in a suit. "With a tie tied properly." He adds. "Does that get you hot?"

The grin on his face is bold as he looks down at his lap, where she's rolling her hips against his unintentionally. "Nope." She lies. "Just teasing you."

"Mm, sure." He hums, leaning closer so he can kiss her. He keeps it quick, committed to not slipping up and fucking her hard enough against the bed that she'll struggle to walk. Making out is a pipeline to that. "What are you wearing with this?" He asks, only because he knows her chosen villain has a lot of variation.

"That white dress shirt that you left here." She starts innocently. "Buttoned to here." She finishes, taking his hand and resting it just above the cups of the bra, hidden from everyone else except someone as tall as him.

He grins, thanking whoever is looking out for him in the universe. "So I'm going to get to see your tits all night?"

"No, you're my colleague, agent Reid. That would be inappropriate." She reminds him smugly.

He tugs her closer, kissing her roughly in a way that makes her head spin. "It's Doctor. And it's going to be more than inappropriate when I rip this off you as soon as we walk through the door."

"Let's hope we can sneak out early then." She decides, focusing on ignoring the tingle in her spin as she kisses him once more before getting off his lap.

Spencer's magnetism is intoxicating. There's nothing she can do to not be attracted to him. He sits there a little stunned, relishing in her pull.

"You need to get out of here so I can see you later." She reminds him.

"But I want to sit here forever." He complains, letting his head rest on his shoulder and shutting his eyes.

Y/n rolls her eyes, grabbing his hands and pulling him off the bed. "Get up, lover boy."

"Fine." He agrees, letting her drag him up before moving his hands down to squeeze her ass.

She has to practically yank his hands off, button his shirt, and push him out the door to get him to leave back to his apartment, but she wants her makeup to be a surprise.

Spencer goes back to his place to get into costume, tightening his tie and smearing fake blood on his raincoat. He grabs his axe, and he's ready to go, arriving before Y/n does and complimenting everyone else's costumes.

Penelope and Emily are an angel and a devil, respectively, and fittingly. Beth must have had to plead with Hotch, but it worked because they're dressed as Woody, Jessie, and Jack as Buzz. JJ's blonde hair perfectly matches her rapunzel outfit, Will by her side as Flynn Rider, and Henry makes the cutest chameleon as Pascal. Morgan went for a Fresh Prince-inspired outfit, pulling it off with comfort and swagger. Rossi selected clothing from the wardrobe he had as a youth, dressing as a member of the mob, which is really his excuse to have cigars.

The one person he doesn't see is the person he wants to see the most.

She gets there only a few moments later, greeted at the door by Penelope, who has taken over Rossi's house. "You look incredible." He hears Penelope squeal.

Y/n walks into the patio a few moments later, top unbuttoned as she promised it would be. He's hard- and trying to hide it- incredibly quickly.

She looks perfect, a purple blazer framing the white shirt of his with tight black shorts. Her makeup is most impressive, with bright red lipstick painted up her face in an overzealous smile, bold purple eyeshadow, filled-in green brows, and a big J under her left eye. Spencer's sure she could easily defeat Batman with just one look.

She grins at him in his suit, wondering why she hadn't guessed he would come dressed as Patrick Bateman. Hot. Very very hot. She resists the urge to grab him by his perfectly tied tie and pull him to a guest bedroom.

Once she's grabbed her wine with eyeballs, she makes a bee-line to stand next to him. Spencer noticeably looks down the front of his her shirt, checking that her tits were as perfect as he remembered them.

Her kick at his leg goes unseen by everyone else as the adults stand around the high circular table, wrapped up in their own chats. Spencer takes their temporary distractions to lean down and whisper into her ear. "So, what'd you think?"

"It's cute." She replies, breathing shallowly.

"Just like that green set that I'll be taking off you later," Spencer reminds her, keeping his voice low and breath against her skin.

She scoffs. "If you're lucky."

The wine and eventually shots go to both of their heads, and combined with the close proximity and burning need to touch each other, they're both close to breaking.

Spencer's stubborn, often to a fault, but when she excuses herself after dinner, he takes the opportunity and follows her through the house a few minutes later.

Y/n squeals in shock when she feels a hand wrapping around her arm and pulling her into a closet when she's on her way back out. It's Spencer which she knows from his cologne.

"What the fuck?" She asks, hitting him on the plastic raincoat covering his shoulder. There are no lights on, but she can feel the heat coming off him. "What is wrong with you? You scared me."

"Missed you too much." He says almost sweetly, nose touching hers. The innocence quickly gets taken over by something darker as his hands started traveling over the curve of her body. "Look so hot in this." He mumbles, lips only an inch from hers.

She's worse at controlling herself when they're close and alone, and in a second, her lips are pressed to his. Spencer kisses her back, slamming her into the wall firmly.

His tongue delves into her mouth, hands traveling to squeeze her tits while she pulls him closer with the hair at the base of his neck.

"Fucking love your hair like this." She hums against his lips, trying not to mess up the perfect, slicked-back look of his straightened, not curled, hair.

"It's my sex hair, that's why." He claims with a laugh before kissing her again. It's just as quick-paced as before, both of them desperate and eager, working with each other.

Before she can fully give in to the urge, and fuck him in the closet, she pulls away. "Wait, wait, we can't do this here." She reminds him.

Spencer nods, although he doesn't want to let go of her, have to go back out there, and socialize until it's been enough time for them to go home.

He takes his hands off her body, holding them up. "Okay, okay. You going first?"

"Yeah, probably should." She agrees, taking a moment to calm her breathing. "See you out there."

Emily gives her a bit of a weird look in the kitchen, which she shrugs off as she grabs some ice water to tamper down the heat in her cheeks.

"Are you okay?" She asks.

Y/n nods. "Just got distracted."

It's when Spencer appears a minute later that she understands the fatal consequence of their makeout session.

Red lipstick.

Her red lipstick.

All over and around his lips. She might have been able to save it, shove him back into a bathroom to fix it, had every member of their team not walked in and witnessed the same thing. Dead silence spreads as quickly as the conclusion about what is happening does. The guilty look from Y/n only confirms the fact they had snuck away to make out.

"What?" Spencer asks, looking at each of them for an answer.

"You got a little something," Morgan tells him with a smirk, gesturing to his lips. Spencer scrambles to wipe it up after glancing at Y/n's missing lipstick, not that it helps at all.

"So you're the distraction." Emily jokes, nudging Y/n on the shoulder.

The surprise is evident on all of their faces, mixed with some excitement. "I did not see that coming," JJ admits, agreements coming from almost everyone.

"Really?" Beth asks, shocked by something else this time. "They have been practically..." She pauses to look behind her and make sure no kids are listening... "eye fucking each other all night. No offense, you guys." She's definitely had a bit to drink and it makes everyone laugh, even more, when she turns to Hotch to continue. "Are you even a profiler, Aaron?"

Will's claiming he saw the same thing to JJ as Beth teases Hotch and Morgan starts reminding Penelope of a conversation they had about who Y/n would end up dating on her first day at the BAU, Emily getting dragged in to authenticate.

With everyone occupied by conversations about them, Spencer sees his opportunity, "So we can just sneak out now, right?" He whispers into her ear.

"Yup." She agrees, taking his hand and pulling him away from the chaos they’d made.

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[mcufan72]

Sugar and Cinnamon

Loki and female reader (AU) / 18+

Chapter 4

Chapter 3

Warnings: smutty, protected sex and it might end differently than you expect, contains fluff, angst, morally grey stuff, and uncertainty

Note: this chapter got a bit long (~6.7k words) but I didn't know where to cut

About two hours later, you arrived at the premium five-star hotel in Manhattan. Walker had driven you there and was now opening the limousine's door for you. Loki left the car first and nodded in thanks to Walker before he offered you his hand helping you to get out of the limousine's backseat. You straightened the blazer of your trouser suit and asked him for a minute alone with Walker. Loki walked a few steps away from you two to give you the space to talk to Walker undisturbed.

“You know what to do, y/n? In case he does anything you dislike and doesn't stop doing it?” Walker questioned quietly.

“Yes, pushing the emergency number on my phone,” you answered calmly.

“Right. Please, place it close to you in reachable distance. If you call me, I'll be there in under a minute.”

“Thank you, Walker. You'll be waiting here for me, right?”

“Yes, Ma'am. I'm here. After your date ends, at midnight at the latest, I'll await you within 30 minutes as usual. If you're not back right in time, I'll be looking for you. Promised. Take care, y/n.”

You nodded at Walker and your mouth formed a silent ‘thank you’ and you gave him a shy smile. You felt a bit embarrassed because he knew exactly why you were here and what you were going to do here next. He also knew it was the first time you would spend intimate hours with a client. But Walker was your protector, your support since you worked as an escort lady and he would never judge you.

Loki guided you through the entrance hall to the lift. When you stood beside him in the lift he saw your hands trembling. You were nervous, and so was he. Was this your first time, too? Having paid sex in a hotel? You were an escort lady and you didn't answer his question concerning this issue and it wouldn't be unusual or bad if you'd done it before. He had casual sex with several women, too…but not paid sex yet. But he didn't mind. He just wanted to be together with you and he just hoped you weren't afraid of him. He would never hurt you.

You were so nervous and tried not to show him how much. You wanted to be self-confident and tempting for him. That's what he would pay for and he deserved first-class treatment from you.

“Come,” you said to him when the lift had reached the floor where your room was and took him by his hand. His hand felt good and soft and somehow it took some of your nervousness away.

You opened the door with the keycard and entered the spacious suite. Pure luxury welcomed you two. A comfortable king-size bed with many fluffy cushions and an oversized duvet made of silk, across from the bed a big sofa, and a coffee table with a bowl filled with exotic fruits. A golden champagne bucket with a bottle of the best champagne, next to it a bottle of the best Scottish whisky and of course, two champagne glasses and two whisky tumblers were also placed on the table. Dimmed lights created a comfortable atmosphere and an amazing view over downtown Manhattan through two floor-to-ceiling window fronts crowned this luxury suite.

Next to the bed stood a vanity table and a chair, your small travel bag already waiting there for you, non-visibly and discreetly next to the vanity table. You had some personal things in it, things like spare clothes, additional lingerie, condoms, cigarettes and some toiletries. You stored the bag at REA a few days ago after you had told Rhea you were bookable for the weekends now too. In case you would spend unforeseen intimate hours with a client, Rhea could bring it there and prepare the suite for the tryst. She preferred to do it herself for her escort ladies to ensure that everything was perfectly prepared for them. The suite also enclosed a first-class bathroom with a big bathtub for two and a half-open shower, big enough to dance in it. It also had a floor-to-ceiling window and the view over Manhattan was breathtaking.

While Loki crossed the room to look out of the window you took some things out of your bag. You draped your black kimono with lace-trimmed sleeves over the back of the chair and a bottle of lube and condoms on the nightstand. In long, slow strides Loki went from the floor-to-ceiling windows over to you and took the bottle of lube from the nightstand into his hand. His hand was so big and the bulging veins were such a turn-on for you that you had to suppress a whimper. Did you ever find veiny hands that sexy?

Loki raised an eyebrow. ”Will we need that?” he asked, astonished.

“Depends on how wet you can get me,” you answered with your arms crossed and a smirk curved his lips because of your sassy undertone.

“No one complained so far,” he responded, still smirking and looking deep into your eyes. Gosh, this guy could undress you with just his gaze.

“If you say so,” you said and walked slowly over to the coffee table. You poured some of the whisky into the tumblers and passed one to Loki who already walked over to you.

“Cheers, handsome,” and you raised your glass. You definitely needed a whisky now to calm your nerves down. Loki raised his glass as well and took a sip, never breaking eye contact with you. This gaze…

“We should talk about the conditions now, the rules we have. Do you agree?”

You didn't want to beat around the bush and clarify this issue quickly.

Loki took a seat on the sofa, one arm placed on the backrest and crossed one leg over the other. “Okay, you start,” he offered you.

You took a deep breath. You were trembling inwardly and before you gave him your clear rules and limits you took a further sip of your drink. The whisky slowly warmed your stomach.

“Okay, here we go. I won't do any perverse shit or hard-core sex. No slaps or spanking, no degrading, no anal sex. I won't suck your dick or swallow your sperm. You can go rough on me but you won't get brutal. No extensive foreplay and you will use a condom. No kissing! You won't kiss me on my mouth, you won't kiss any part of my face. Don't you dare mark me in any way! I'm not your property and my body stays markless. You're not my only client and my body is my asset. If you do anything during the act I don't like, I'll let you know and you'll stop doing it. A no is a no. In case you violate my rules, I'll end our fuck session immediately.” You took a deep breath again, awaiting his reaction to your statement. Your heart raced as if you had run a marathon.

“Any questions?”

Loki stared silently at you, processing every single word you had said. You had been very clear and he understood and accepted your rules and boundaries. He still had some questions because maybe one or two of his rules would collide with one of yours. He also wondered what you were thinking he wanted to do to you. He hadn't even thought about most of the things you said. Yes, he preferred being in control and he was dominant, which didn't mean he disliked the gentle way of sex. But maybe you had different experiences.

“What about some…kinky stuff?” He asked you cautiously.

“Depends on the kink, I'd say. But I have a limited scope for negotiation,” you answered firmly, looking into his eyes. You were still standing at the coffee table and he, still sitting on the sofa, continued staring at you.

“What about a blindfold?” He wanted to know.

"Negotiable."

“Soft bondage?” He took a sip of his whisky.

“What do you want to tie up?” You questioned, irritated.

“Your wrists,” he said, his voice deep and warm.

“No and non-negotiable,” you answered calmly but strictly.

“I don't want you to touch me or my naked skin during the act. That's why I need your wrists tied up. And I want to blindfold you because I don't want you to look at me while we fornicate. Furthermore, I'm always in control and as I already told you, I'm not a tender lover which also means I don't do aftercare,” Loki responded firmly, his voice dark and raspy. “But I'll treat you carefully and with respect,” he said more softly now. “You can rely on it.” His voice was so dark and soft, it sent shivers down your spine.

“Why am I not allowed to touch you?” you were curious about that. Men liked to get touched.

“Why am I not allowed to kiss you?”

“I asked first.”

“I find it unpleasant. I don't really enjoy getting touched especially when it comes to my naked skin, my face or my hair. To get touched there, particularly by a woman I'm not in a relationship with, is too intimate and I don't want that."

That was only halfway true. He knew he could never stand your touch, he would completely lose it, when you would caress his body. And also he would probably kiss the heck out of you, you were too hard to resist. He wanted nothing more than to feel your soft lips on his. But you had forbidden him to kiss you and he had to accept it.

“For me, to kiss a man on his mouth or to get my mouth kissed by him means to be in love with each other. We're not in love with each other, Luke. We're far away from that.”

You sounded harsher than you wanted but you knew if you'd kiss him or he'd kiss you, there would be no way back. And you should better not forget you still had a professional relationship with him.

“That's true, I've nothing to add,” he responded affirmatively.

“Fine, guess that answers that.”

You emptied your whisky and it would be the first and last whisky for tonight. You had to keep your senses clear. You took off your blazer and kicked off your high heels. It was such a relief but you suppress a redemptive sigh. You needed to feel a bit more comfortable before you could go on. Loki's gaze wandered down your body and he couldn't even imagine how much your feet must hurt from these ‘little beasts’. He liked that name you had for your high heels. He appreciated that you wore them for him and accepted the pain they caused. He loved you wearing them, they looked extremely sexy but he didn't want you to suffer for him. He could give you a proper foot massage, that would be a bare minimum he could do for you. Did it count for you as foreplay? If so, he better shouldn't do it.

“Okay, Luke, you can blindfold me if it makes you feel more comfortable but my wrist and hands remain free.”

It was okay for you to not see him but you needed your hands to be untied in case you had to end a possible unacceptable situation or to reach for your phone. You won't discuss it.

“I offer you to put my hands above or behind my head and to keep them there. I promise you I won't touch you,” you told him.

You'd love to run your fingers through his hair, caressing his scalp and tugging at his dark locks. They looked so soft.

“I don't know you well enough to trust you with that. And I cannot allow you to touch me.” Loki placed the whisky tumbler on the coffee table and leaned back again. He looked sceptically at you.

You chuckled in disbelief and placed your hands on your hips. “But I have to trust you with that blindfold, huh? I don't know you well enough either. I cannot even see what you're doing once you're settled between my legs and… fucking me, or what you're doing before that.”

A frustrated laugh escaped your throat. “So we have to find a compromise, Mr. Luke Larsson.” You made a pause. “I allow you to blindfold me and you allow me to keep my hands above my head without tying my wrists… Do we have a deal?” you wanted to know, waiting for his answer.

Loki considered your offer and he couldn't find an argument against it because you were right. He couldn't demand everything from you when he wasn't willing to give something in return. Trust has never been his biggest strength but in your case, it seemed possible for him to trust you with that matter. And damn it, he wanted you so much. He was on edge since you tried to entice him at the gallery so he nodded slowly.

“We have a deal, Miss Sugar Black,” and a mischievous smile curved his lips.

You turned around and went towards the vanity table and sat down on the chair. You took your cigarettes and a lighter out of your bag and onto the table, and you prepared your phone and held it in your hand.

“There are two more things, Luke. I'll keep my phone close to me and our tryst ends at midnight sharp. Got it?”

Slowly like a panther on the way to hunt his prey he stood up from the sofa, took his jacket off and walked over to the bed where you just put your phone on the bedside table.

Loki was already behind you when you stood straight again, placing his hands on your shoulders.

“Fine with me,” he murmured. His deep voice made you shiver.

“Is this okay for you?”, he wanted to know while his fingers circled gently on your shoulders.

You tilted your head a bit and you felt his nose nudging your earlobe. He was so gentle. “Yes, it's okay for me, Luke.”

“You always smell so good, Sugar,” and he sniffed your neck. It was tickling you and you tried not to giggle.

“Want me to run a bath for you, for relaxation…I could join you,” you offered him sweetly.

“No, I'm used to bathing alone… do you really want to get laid by me, Sugar?” He whispered into your ear.

“Yeah, I want it, Luke, I want you.” It was the truth and you wouldn't back down. You wanted him more than you thought. He nibbled at your earlobe and down your throat, gently as a feather. You could barely hold back a whimper and you bit on your lower lip.

“I have wanted it since I got to know you, sweet thing. Perhaps I knew it all along, just wouldn't admit it to myself. Does it scare you?” His hands wandered down your arms and his mouth lingered on the skin of your neck, his breath fanning along your throat. Your body was immediately covered in goosebumps. The firm muscles of his torso were tightly pressed against your back, his hard-on pressed against your ass.

“No, other things scare me more and they have nothing to do with you.” Your voice wasn't more than a whisper.

“I want to show you pleasure, sweet thing, pleasure you've never felt before,” His voice was pure velvet, his breathing calmly and evenly.

“You don't know that, you don't know me, Luke” you answered silently.

“I can sense it, Sugar. The way your body responded to mine when we danced, how it responds to mine now and the way you look at me, gives it away. But I won't force you, I only take what you're willing to give me.”

How could you deny him? You have never met anyone like him. Dark, arrogant, magnetic, seductive, hot as hell but also caring, gentle and interested without being intrusive. He scared you sometimes, with his piercing stare right into your soul, his whole behaviour and his subtle possessiveness, the way he had held you in his arms and grabbed your wrist as if you were his. You should be completely terrified by him but you weren't. You maybe should stay away from him but you couldn't. You were aroused in a way you had never been before and you wished for nothing more than spending more time, more dates with him. But he might not book you again after tonight after he finally had you in the sheets and his carnal desires were satisfied. You wanted to give yourself to him even if you knew you might not satisfy him or be able to feel the pleasure he promised you.

Loki was so hard already and he wished he had more time with you. Your soft body closely pressed against his, felt so perfect and he wanted to enjoy every minute with you to the fullest but time was ticking. He didn't know how long he would last tonight. He hadn't been with a woman for too long and you were so cute and seductive. He saw you unbuttoning your blouse and he helped you to take it off. Your trousers followed and then you were just in your white lace underwear. You slowly turned around to face him. You curled one arm around his neck, and with your other hand, you began to unbutton his shirt, the silk scarf still around his neck. He would use it later for another purpose. At your sight in that white lace, he could hardly restrain himself. You looked so innocent and enticing at the same time. When you had unbuttoned his shirt completely you tugged it out of his slacks and unbuckled his belt. His hands lingered on your hips when you cupped his still-clothed but rock-hard manhood and felt him throbbing in your hand.

“How do you want me?” you asked him so gently that he couldn't believe you just did a job here and how easy you made it for him to forget about that. He slipped one of the straps of your bra off your shoulder, pushed it down your arm and caressed your skin tenderly. He felt you shivering. He hoped you weren't scared.

“I want you on the bed, on your back. ”

“I want to leave my bra on,” you whispered.

“No problem, sweet thing and I leave my shirt on,” he answered, holding your gaze and giving you a little smile.

Loki laid you gently down on the bed. He looked so unbelievably sexy with his open shirt. His chiselled chest with the right amount of soft, curly chest hair, his defined abs and his trimmed happy trail beneath his belly button made your mouth watering and you wanted to lick and bite every inch of his perfect torso. His whole body was pure sin but you weren't allowed to touch his naked torso.

You were relieved that you could leave your bra on. It lets you feel less vulnerable and more safe. You couldn't really explain it but you felt better with your bra on. Maybe it was the same for him with his shirt. When you lay down on the bed, he followed you promptly. You were on your back as he asked you to do. He laid on his side right next to you, propped up on one elbow and cupping your breast, his thumb tenderly teasing your nipples through the lace, one after the other. They hardened instantly under his touch and it let your clit throb with desire and your arousal drenched your thong. He stripped his scarf from his neck and you knew what would follow.

“Are you ready, Sugar?” You nodded yes. “I need your words, sweet thing,” he demanded.

“Yes,” it was more of a squeak, you could barely speak because of desire and nervousness. But you were sure he'd stay true to his words and would not harm you. He covered your eyes with his scarf and tied the ends behind your head above your hair bun together, avoiding too much pressure on your eyes. You were afraid and aroused at the same time. Was that even possible?

“Hands above your head… don't move them and don't remove the blindfold from your eyes.” he stated.

“I won't, I promise,” you answered silently.

You felt him leaving the bed to get rid of his shoes, socks, his trousers and underwear. His shirt stayed on, he just rolled up the sleeves. He came back to you and laid down again. You expected him to quickly fuck you but he took his time with you. You felt his engorged cock pressed against your thigh. He must be aching for relief, he must've been on edge the whole evening …just because of you. You should give him his relief soon, you didn't want to torture him further. You spread your legs for him so he could settle between them. But he made no effort to penetrate you immediately.

He didn't kiss any part of your body. You just felt his nose and his mouth brushing softly over your skin. He started at your throat down to your cleavage, dipping down between the swell of your breasts, further down to your belly button and your hips, his hands slowly sliding down your sides. In one swift move he pulled your thong down and you lifted your legs so he could get it off of you completely. He grazed his lips over your pubic mound and you voluntarily spread your legs for him again and you felt his soft mouth on your pussy lips. Goosebumps, all over your body were goosebumps. Your nipples were hardened further and you suppress a moan. He gave your clit a few gentle licks before he made his way upwards again over your tummy to your throat and your ear.

Everything felt so much more intense because you were robbed of one of your senses and his wonderful scent added to your arousal. You didn't expect such feelings, you didn't expect such tender treatment. Luke could do anything to you but he was patient and careful. You weren't used to it and it irritated you, not in a bad way though but you were just used to quickies or a man just having it his way. Why must he be so tender and caring, you could barely handle it and you should better not get used to it because he wasn't yours and you would likely never see him again after tonight. You were glad you couldn't look at him. If you could look into his beautiful eyes it would be your undoing and you couldn't allow this to happen.

“Are you sure you want this? Do I still have your consent?” He whispered into your ear.

“Yes, go on.” You said it harsher than you intended to.

He got up on his knees and shifted to the side. You immediately missed his warmth and his body close to yours. You heard him unfoil a condom and shortly after, he caged you beneath him and you felt the tip of his cock nudging at your entrance. Why were you so wet? Have you ever been so wet? You never became that wet so quickly. And there hadn't been much foreplay. You didn't even need the lube. What was wrong with you?

“May I?”

“Yes, just go on,” you said impatiently. You were irritated because of your bodily reaction you didn't expect in this situation.

“Don't move your hands, Sugar! Don't even think about touching me!” he murmured darkly.

“And you don't even think about kissing me!” You responded.

“Do I have your consent?” He questioned again.

“Why are you asking again? You talk too much!” you whispered.

“Just to be sure,” he growled.

“Keep going before I change my mind,” you growled quietly back.

When he carefully penetrated you, slowly and inch by inch, a deep moan escaped your mouth you didn't know you were capable of. You had never felt that full and it felt good. Unfortunately, it felt good and when he began to move in and out of you, it felt even better. No, no, no you shouldn't enjoy it, you shouldn't allow yourself to like it that he made you feel good. And anyway he wouldn't last very long, would he? Just two or three minutes more and he would be done. That's the way it always has been in former relationships. You were used to being left high and dry. You weren't even in a relationship with Luke, he was just your client so how dare he give you that good feeling? And he made it worse with his nose in the crook of your neck, his toneless moans and his chest rubbing over your breasts, his thumb teasing your nipples. You should distract yourself, should be possible for two or three minutes.

Did you do your laundry? Was there enough milk in the fridge for your coffee in the morning? Did you already buy new shampoo and body lotion? Another moan of pleasure escaped your throat when you felt his cock moving deep inside of you, hitting a spot you didn't know existed. How dare he distract you from your distraction? And why did his soft skin feel so damn good on yours? And when did you wrap your legs around his waist?

You had to end it immediately, you couldn't stand this good feeling anymore. There was only one way to do it. You were an expert in it. An ability honed over the years. The reasons had been different ones but you knew how to do it. You faked it. You let your walls willingly clench around his sensitive cock. You knew he was close, it seemed it had been a while since he fucked with someone. So it took him just two more strokes and a faked moan of pleasure of yours and he came hard. If you know how to clench your cunt around the dick and if you moan just right, they go crazy. That's how it worked, that's what always led to success. You gave him a short moment before you pushed him off you, pulling the blindfold hurriedly off of your eyes, throwing it aside and standing up from the bed.

You grabbed your kimono from the back of the chair and covered your body with it by taking it on and tying its belt. Your job was done and he had to go now. No aftercare, no small talk, as agreed. Your cunt was still throbbing, unsatisfied lust running through your body. But this feeling was nothing new to you. The feeling of having fooled him was worse than the feeling of being unsatisfied. You grabbed your cigarette pack and lighter from the vanity table and lit up a cigarette. You had given up smoking several years ago but now you were having the urgent need to take a drag and inhale the unhealthy stuff to calm the bad feeling down with it.

Loki didn't know how much he was in need of carnal satisfaction. Of course, he jerked off regularly under the shower or on his bed but it wasn't as satisfying as burying himself into the warmth of a wonderful woman, a woman like you. Your skin was so soft and your scent was so beguiling. A mixture of roses in the summer rain and honey. He wasn't allowed to kiss your lips or your pretty face so he just let his lips travel down over your gorgeous, tempting body and when he reached your most intimate part and you opened your thighs for him further, he gave your clit just a few gentle licks. You had already been so wet without him giving you a proper, deserved preparation before claiming you completely. You tasted so good and deliciously sweet, he'd love to have more of it, more of you but you didn't want extensive foreplay which he accepted.

He wasn't sure but you seemed to enjoy your intimate encounter, he could tell because of how your body reacted to him but something felt odd. It seems you forbid yourself sexual pleasure. He wasn't used to it because normally when he pleasured a woman they wanted him to give them endless pleasure and the sweetest fulfilment. But maybe he shouldn't forget that you were doing a ‘job’ here. You surely thought this here was just about him, getting satisfied in every way but it wasn't how he saw it. He wanted you to feel good too. At least he hoped you felt safe with him and that you wouldn't hate him afterwards.

When you unconsciously wrapped your beautiful legs around his waist and pulled him closer to you, allowing him to get deeper, it was nearly his undoing. He had dreamt of it since he had seen you for the first time and to feel you doing it sent him nearly over the edge. It didn't take him long and he came hard when he felt you suddenly clenching around him but he could've sworn your climax wasn't that close. Shortly after he came you pushed him away and he felt kind of irritated but he didn't mind, he told you he doesn't do aftercare. Just the act, nothing more. But to his own surprise, it would've felt nice to stay a bit longer in that intimate position.

“Are you okay?" He asked you thoughtfully, still lying on the bed and catching his breath.

“Yeah, of course,” you tried to sound lighthearted but Loki doubted it.

He got out of bed, picked up his underwear from the floor and headed for the bathroom to clean himself. You were still smoking your cigarette, fidgeting nervously with it.

“My performance wasn't sublime and a little bit disappointing for you, wasn't it?” He said when he returned from the bathroom. He and he asked you that question as if you had booked him for sex. It wasn't his obligation to satisfy you. It was your job and your obligation to satisfy him.

“What?” You looked astonished.

“Your orgasm.”

“What do you mean?” You questioned him, irritated.

“Your orgasm. ..you faked it,” he said.

“I didn't," you said unbelievingly and appalled. He had noticed it? How? “You came good and hard, right?” You answered a bit annoyed. You had to keep your walls up. You had to keep your feelings out.

“That's not the point, Sugar.”

“That is exactly the point, handsome. I did my job and apparently I did it well.”

You glanced at him. Could he please get completely dressed again? This guy just dressed in an unbuttoned shirt with rolled-up sleeves and black briefs wasn't just distracting you, it also made you want to snuggle up to him.

“Did you enjoy it at least a little bit? I don't want you to feel used,” he asked concernedly.

You gave him no answer. You enjoyed it much more than you were ready to admit.

Frowning and smirking unbelievingly, Loki walked past you to sit down on the end of the bed, resting his forearms on his thighs and staring at your back. He hated cuddling and cuddling after sex even more but he wanted to hug you and keep you in his arms. Why didn't you tell him if you had enjoyed it or not?

“Who did this to you? Who hurt you so much?”

“Why would you want to know that?”

“Maybe because I care about you.”

“Mind your own business, Luke. We just had sex. This here has nothing to do with love or care or anything like that. I just expanded my service for you. I neither need love nor am I looking for it. I don't need a savior. I need money and I work for it, that's all,” you dragged on your cigarette, turned around and looked provocatively at him, blowing the smoke out. He looked devastatingly sexy with his rumpled, open shirt and tousled black curls. You just wanted to hug and kiss him. But both would violate your rules.

“Everyone has their secrets, Luke. You have yours and I have mine and there's nothing to complain about. We owe each other nothing. This is a business relationship and we both got what we wanted. You pay for me and I give you my time and my body. I'm sure you're done with me now. Thank you for booking me,” you said bitterly.

“What makes you think I don't want to see you again? Do you think so badly of me? Did I treat you that disrespectfully?” He asked you silently, your words stinging in his chest.

“No, no you didn't. It's not you, it's me. I'm an escort lady who is also a call girl now. I cannot fall any deeper. So why should you care about me? Maybe you'd like to try someone else now because I couldn't fulfil your expectations tonight. Some other lovely escort ladies are working for REA…” You suppressed the upcoming tears and swallowed hard on the lump in your throat.

There was so much pain and sadness in your voice, that it made Loki's heart clench painfully in his chest.

“That's not how I see it, Sugar. And I can assure you I don't want to meet any other escort lady… just you. You shouldn't speak so badly about yourself because… it's not the truth. Whatever happened to you and caused this dreadful situation… You're a fallen angel, someone has broken your wings and if I ever find this cruel prick who hurt you so much, I'll kill him.” Loki stated, his voice full of compassion.

“Don't make any promises you'll never keep, Luke. ” You struggled to make your voice work. “It's not midnight yet but I want you to go now...please,” you asked of him.

“Can I really leave you alone? I could…,”

“I'm good,” you interrupted him quickly, “don't worry. Walker will drive me home so no need for you to worry about me.”

“What exactly is Walker for you? Is he your bodyguard? He protects you, right?” Loki questioned.

He began to dress himself while questioning. It was like a reverse strip. How could someone be so sexy? How was it even possible to get dressed in a sexy manner?

“He is my chauffeur, my chaperone, my life assurance in case someone becomes a menace,” you told him calmly.

“I'm genuinely glad to hear that.”

“Yes, I feel much better knowing he's there for me.” You answered genuinely.

“I feel much better with that, too,” Loki said and put his jacket on. He headed to the suite door and turned around to look at you.

“Can I ask you one last question?” You shrugged and nodded.

“Do you believe in love, Sugar?” You hesitated with the answer.

“Do you, Luke?”

“I already told you, no, I don't.”

“And I don't either. I don't believe in love anymore. Someone has destroyed it for me. Love is overrated…and sex too.” You tried to smile and look self-confident.

“Is that so Sugar?” He asked you sadly.

You smiled softly at him and shrugged a shoulder, tears brimming in your eyes. You glanced at him, searching for the right words but unfortunately, you couldn't find them.

Loki made an effort to open the door and you swallowed thickly before you found your voice again.

“Luke…You have a completely wrong image of yourself. You might be dominant but…You are a tender lover. Thank you for being so…careful. And I'm sure there's someone out there to love you. But it's not me.” He could barely hear you because you ou spoke so quietly.

Loki smiled unbelievingly at you and opened the door.

“Good night, Sugar. Take care.” He said calmly.

“Good night, Luke,” you answered silently, tears brimming painfully in your eyes and with a soft thud he closed the door and was gone.

You allowed two tears to escape your eyes, wiped them angrily away, and opened your tight hair bun. You got a headache from it. You would take a quick shower, it wouldn't take you longer than fifteen minutes to get ready and then, Walker would drive you home. You weren't sure if you would find sleep tonight. There were too many thoughts in your mind. You felt just exhausted now. You took off your kimono and the bra, dropped them on the floor, and headed for the bathroom. After the hurried shower, you got dressed into the fresh clothes that were stored in your bag and put every piece of your worn clothes, the high heels, and your other belongings into the bag. There was also a package of biscuits in it but you would look for it on your way down to the limousine. It was time to go now and you left the hotel suite.

While walking through the streets of Manhattan in the middle of the night, Loki couldn't stop thinking about you. He always refused to gain too much feelings for a girl but with you, it was something completely different. He wasn't overly proud of what he did tonight. He lusted for you, wanted you but now he felt bad. Not for himself, but for you. Was it right to take your offer? He had used you, he took advantage of your situation you were in. That's how it felt for him now. He had your consent and he knew you wanted it too. He was a skilled lover, always striving to satisfy his sexual partner but he wasn't even able to do that for you. He wished you would've enjoyed it but maybe by taking your offer, he had just added more to your desperation and the difficult situation you were stuck in.

You had told him you would only escort him and then, you reversed your decision. Why? Because you lusted for him or liked him as a person? Surely not. He needed to find out why you needed more money because to sleep with a client meant to get more money than just escorting them. After sleeping with you he felt more worried about you. Maybe this was intrusive but he wanted to help you. His inner turmoil got the better of him and something about you touched his heart. On his way to hail a taxi on his way home, he recognised that he was missing his scarf.

‘Damn,’ he scolded himself. Turning on his heels, he walked hurriedly back to the hotel. When Loki left the lift, he hurried down the hallway with long steps back to the suite. Maybe you were still there and you could open him so he could get his scarf back. A woman walked past him when he was on his way back to the suite, casually dressed in jeans, an oversized black blazer and trainers, busily looking for something in a bag, her head deeply stuck in it, her hair covering her face. She paid no attention to him when he greeted her and he kept walking. He knocked at the door and waited for a minute or two but no one answered or opened the door. You must've been gone already. If you say yes to a further date with him he could ask you if you took his scarf with you and you surely would give it back to him. Or he would ask tomorrow at the reception desk if the housekeeping staff found his scarf.

When you left the entrance hall of the hotel, Walker was already awaiting you. He had just driven the limousine to the entrance of the hotel and opened the car's door for you. You tossed your bag on the backseat and got in the car. Walker rounded the limousine, got into the car himself, started the engine and you fastened your seat belt. You hadn't found the biscuits in the depths of your bag and now you didn't feel like looking for it anymore. You didn't even feel like listening to music anymore so you took your earplugs out and put them into the pocket of your blazer. You leaned your forehead against the glass of the side window and stared at the glittering lights of Manhattan by night. Walker observed you through the rear-view mirror.

“Are you all right, y/n?” he asked concernedly.

You turned your head towards his gaze in the mirror and nodded.

“Yes, I'm ok, Walker, thank you,” and you leaned your head against the glass again.

“Mr.Larsson…, was he good to you?”

“Yeah, … yeah he was,” you answered silently, and you kept staring at the passing city lights.

“Good. He seems to me to be a man with decency and manners.”

“He's wonderful, Walker. He was the best,” and you fought against the tears in your eyes. You couldn't allow yourself to like him too much. ‘Do not fall in love with a client. Do not gain feelings for someone who would never be yours.’ You didn't even know if you would ever see Luke again.

Maybe it was too late already, maybe you had already gained feelings for him. The worst case might have already happened. You might not be able to draw a line between sex and love. Well, you guessed that's what you'd call an occupational hazard.

You should stay away from him but you wished to see him again. Even though you might not be able to keep pretending everything between you two is just professional business.

🌹🥂🌃🌹🥃🌃🌹🥂❤️🌃🌹🥃🌃🌹🥂🌃

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[billthedrake]

STANDING HALL PASS

"Hey," came his sexy voice as he let me into the hotel room. He had that killer smile that first made me crush out on the guy - when he first had that press conference for his hire my dick stood up immediately at his easygoing masculinity.

It still does. "Hey, Coach," I grinned, stepping in to follow him. This wasn't a date, but I tried to look my best for him. Sport coat, dress shirt, hair product in. Maybe because I'd met him smarted up in a blazer for an athletics award bruncheon. I was certainly overdressed now... the man had on sweatpants and an oversized team sweatshirt.

"You're looking good, G," Don said. "I got you a beer from room service," he offered, sitting down at the table. It wasn't a luxury hotel but it was a pretty nice room.

Coach Hartman and I had been having an affair for ten solid years now, and I was getting used to this phase. And to the man's desire to have a conversation before we fucked. So I sat down and we made chit chat, talked about the Broncos game the next day and my promotion at work.

It wasn't always like this. I was an Ohio State lax bro when we met, riding my youthful horniness and feeding of Coach Hartman's pent up sexual energy. We had some exploratory hookups at first, with wild, fevered sex, until we figured out a way to meet more frequently. I was living the dream, indulging my desire to top an older man, a man old enough to be my dad. That he was an honest to god NFL coach stud made me feel like I'd gotten the ultimate prize every time.

Then Don told me he had to break it off. Maybe a combination of guilt and fear of getting caught. I was from the Cincinnati area and I'd hung after graduation, but I knew it would suck being there and not being able to bone Hartman any more. Seeing him on the local news all the time, knowing he was just miles from where I lived. When I half lied and mentioned I was thinking of relocating to a different city, I saw the relief in his face and that nearly broke my heart. "I'd never ask that of you, Grant, but that would be for the best," he said.

So I moved to Denver. Had a great job and was into the outdoor culture. Even made some good friends quickly. But Denver is a young city and didn't have as many bottom daddies as I craved. Still, I was a good looking ex-jock, I did OK. And I took some vacations to Palm Springs that let me scratch my dadfucking itch.

It was about two years to the day when I heard from Don. He was still "William" in my contacts for the messaging, since I'd entered his middle name for anonymity sake. "How are you doing Grant?" was all it read.

The rest was history, I thought, as Hartman and I made small talk now, eye contact getting heavier. I kicked off my sneaker and ran my foot along his anke.

"You're making me hard," he whispered.

"That's the point, right, Don?" I teased. Working my foot higher.

He grunted and with a nod, raised his hips off the chair to pull down his sweats. The man was going commando and his smaller, thick tool stood up from the forest of grayish brown pubes. His legs weren't as toned as when we first started fooling around, but the man kept in shape.

I peeled off my socks and undid my jeans, not taking them off yet but letting my hardon have some breathing room in my briefs. I scooted the chair to angle us facing one another, allowing my foot to travel up his inner thigh, teasing him more. I don't know that either of us were into foot play, but this was novel and sexy, and I got off seeing Don's dadcock twitch.

"You sure you want to be with a 60 year old?" Coach asked, with a glint of flirting but also an insecurity there. He'd just had his birthday the previous week. Just as I'd had my 30th milestone the previous summer.

"Sure I'm sure," I replied. I breathed deep and felt my cock throb. I was glad it was no longer so constrained. "You sure you wanna be with a guy who gets turned on by fucking a 60 year old?"

I thought maybe I was going too far. Like a lot of guys, Don didn't like to think of himself as old, and he'd bristled any time I brought up any "dad" or "daddy" talk. But his spike jerked some, and I moved my foot up to tease his hairy balls sac and his short shaft.

He gave me a sly grin. "Maybe you have more of a granddaddy kink than a daddy one," he laughed.

"Maybe," I shrugged. "Would that bug you?" I challenged him.

He laughed. "Honestly, Grant? I don't fucking know." This was Hartman in his laid back mode, more laid back than I'd seen him in a while. I liked this version of him, I decided.

I played with his exposed genitals some more, getting into the new kind of foreplay. "Well, 60 or not, you're hot as fuck, Don."

He smiled at me, those trademark dimples forming, then lifted up his sweatshirt. It was a gesture that said he was self conscious he didn't have the body he did at 50. But a gesture that said he was seeking my approval.

I gave it to him. "Seriously, Coach," I grunted. "Your body is incredible. All of you." I wasn't laying it on thick, it was the truth. I was now partnered with my boyfriend Kevin, who twelve years older and a total bottom who indulged my incest kink. But I'd been up front with him that I had a married fuck bud who was going to stay in the picture. A famous guy who'd remain anonymous. Kevin actually suspected it was Tim Ryan since I'd fantasized, crudely and out loud, about that man being my bottom bitch more than once.

Kevin had actually called things off with me, until he decided he could live with me hooking up with mystery man 2 or 3 times a year. I'd get a text from "William" and drop any plans I had to come over to the hotel Don was staying at.

Like now. Hartman was feeding off my praise and my clear lust. I pulled out my cock and let him see not only its size but how hard the man was making me.

"Why don't you come over and suck it, Coach," I hissed. I'd played up the alpha jock thing when we first met. Hartman had to get me to tone it down a little, since usually he was more likely to put out for a buddy rather than a dom type. But on occasion, I'd order him around and on occasion he'd get excited by it.

It never got old seeing the middle-aged man naked and hard, getting into servicing position between my legs. Even more as I realized he wouldn't be middle aged much longer.

I grunted as his hands ran along my jeans and his head came closer. His hair was grayer now, much grayer, almost bristly with the silver. I ran my hand through its short length and felt him hiss, just before his tongue made contact with my dick.

Don Hartman wasn't a good cocksucker when we met. That gave me a source of pride, that I was the one who trained him, taught him the way to treat a dick. If I wasn't into fucking so much and if Coach didn't have such an amazing ass, I'd be happy sticking to a nice BJ and calling it an evening.

But it had been too long since we'd gotten together. So I'd let Hartman work me up, tease me to a full fuck-hard. And maybe he wanted to indulge his newfound oral fixation, too. Fine by me. I just pulled him off when I got too close.

"You didn't have me come over just to suck me, did you, Coach?" I growled.

Don's fist now encircled my spit wet prick. "Nah, G.... I need this in me, man. You know that?" His face blushed red at the admission. Carrying on an affair with Hartman was an emotional mine field, but I learned to embrace that part of it, too.

I ran my thumb along his cheek. Still can't believing the man I lusted for in my high school years was here with me now, still... again. "I know, Coach.... you know it turns me on to hear you say it."

He gave me a sexy smile. The embarrassment not giving way fully but transforming into something else. "You know, I thought I could go cold turkey... when you moved away...."

That hit me deep. Maybe I was the one going on the emotional rollercoaster with Don. My whole hand now patted his cheek, stroking his face tenderly. A part of me wanted to give him a slap, but he and I didn't have that dynamic and never would. "I'm here now, Don.... maybe it's once a year, maybe it's more. Whenever you need this cock, tell me, OK?"

He nodded, almost grateful. Fuck, my dick throbbed and started leaking. Hartman's eyes watched excitedly. "Maybe I can fly you out East sometime. If your boyfriend would be OK with that." We had an asymmetrical understanding. Don could talk about Kevin, but his family was off limits to discuss when we hooked up.

"He'll be fine," I replied, reassuring him. Don still had major cheating guilt, but his one stipulation was that he was not going to be a homewrecker for me. "He knows I need this."

With that I leaned forward. Don leaned up and met me. We didn't always kiss, particularly in that "it's just a fuck" phase when we rekindled our affair. But lately, Coach had been open to it. So I greedily kissed back, working as much game as I could into each lip lock.

It wasn't entirely romantic, though. I was horny, and Hartman was crazy pent up. Maybe his wife hadn't been putting out much lately. Or maybe he'd just missed a man's touch after too long. I put no claim on the man, but I knew I was the only guy he fooled around with.

I stood up, and Don was a half beat behind. We embraced and I let Don help me take off my clothes. I was regretting now that I hadn't come in casual attire like Don, because I would be naked now. Sometimes the slow stripping is fun, but just then I wanted to get naked with this hunk of a granddaddy. It had been too long.

"GOD!" Don hissed as I finally peeled off my shirt. I hit the gym pretty regularly and I guess I was in even better shape than last time we'd hooked up. His hands greedily ran over my muscle.

I let him explore my body, then softly patted his ass. "On the bed, Coach. Face down."

He grinned and nodded. I watched him crawl up on the bed, pulling down the covers and settling into a comfortable position. I got up behind him and took a second to massage those daddy buns, feeling just what a 60 year man felt like. Hartman was the oldest guy I'd ever been with, and I found a strange thrill in that. He wasn't the man I first fucked ten years ago, but mentally I still had 50 year old Don in my head and loved the way that fed into the 60 year stud in front of me. Oscillating back and forth, each version bringing out the hotter part of the other.

I leaned in and started burying my face in his ass.

This was my calling card. Before me, Hartman didn't realize he loved getting eaten out so much. After our first time together, he knew that's what he'd been missing. Sometimes our rim sessions would be epic, but tonight it was just going to be intense. Maybe 5 minutes of me feasting on the coach hole I missed so much.

Hartman was worked up too much too. Within a minute he was bucking his hunky ass into my face, challenging me to hold his hamstrings or hips down to steady him. I did just that and powerdrilled my tongue in and out.

I couldn't take any more though. Thankfully Don had set out some lube. I slicked myself up and fingered a good bit into his hole. I knew he'd be tight, which was great but also not. Gently I guided him up to into a doggy position.

He was horny but also a little nervous. I patted his lower back and massaged his muscle some while my other hand worked my lubed pole along his crack and over his pucker.

"It's like riding a bike, Coach," I assured him.

He chuckled. "I want you to open me up again, G," he hissed.

I did. Bluntly I applied force to his ring, until I popped through. I actually wasn't skilled at this when I was 20 but I had it down now... force, then restraint, perfectly timed. I breached that coach hole and then held the breach still so the man could get comfortable with a dick in him again.

"Feeling good, Coach?" I asked when I felt the vicelike spasms let up.

"Jesus, G, you have no idea," he answered. "Go ahead... I'm all yours, buddy."

The magic words. I pushed all the way inside Don Hartman, feeling every bit of warmth and snugness and getting off on his mature muscle. Dad, Granddad... who the fuck cared who he was in my psyche just then. I gave gentle but deep strokes. All the way in, all the way out. I used his hips for leverage, slowly.

"Fuck me, Grant... oh god yeah..." Don hissed in time to my cock. Hartman may take a lot of work to break in sometimes, but when the man got into it, he really got into it.

My fingers gripped around his waist tighter and I fucked harder. I was amazed I was able to hold off this long, but it was gonna happen soon. I was gonna spunk the insides of one of the league's best coaches. I pounded faster, even, feeling so close. I didn't know how close Don was, but his hand was now on his spike, working himself in sync to the fuck I was throwing him.

"Goddamnit, Coach, I'm gonna cum... gonna cum inside you," I announced.

Maybe Don was close already. Or maybe the idea of my sperm shooting in him was the trigger. But I watched his back muscles tense and I heard his deep orgasmic grunt. Hartman was beating me to the finish line by a split second.

My prick fired heavy inside him. Several full jets of my cum flooded his raw NFL coach ass, soaking it full. I always felt like I had won a prize trophy after nailing Hartman, but I also liked to think I was giving him his own personal trophy and keepsake.

I slowed my hips and finally stopped, leaning down to kiss between his shoulder blades before I pulled out.

"That was incredible, Coach," I said. I felt I could never praise this man enough and in the afterglow I always felt grateful as hell.

He had a content smile when he rolled onto his back. The next time I'd have to do him missionary and take advantage of seeing his more mature body. "That it was, G." His hand reached forward and felt up my thigh muscle. "Maybe we can shower off together?"

I still never knew which Hartman I was gonna get. The man who'd be quiet and standoffish after orgasm. Or the one who wanted some intimacy after. But I rolled with the punches. I offered a hand and helped him out of bed.

We actually didn't kiss much in the shower, but it was amazing feeling up each other's body, soaping and rinsing.

When we dried off and got back into the main part of the room, I knew not to push my luck. "I know you have a big game tomorrow, Coach," I said, walking over to find my briefs.

"Yeah," he said. "But if you wanna come over tomorrow night... we can go a little longer then."

I knew I'd have to make this up to Kevin somehow. A whole weekend with another man. But I also knew I'd be back in this hotel room, probably overnighting here. I wasn't gonna pass up on that chance.

"That'd be awesome, Coach," I said, stepping up to get one last kiss. This time it was Don who didn't want to break it off. I felt my dick stir and knew I could go again with this coach hunk, but I would save it for tomorrow night.

I grinned as I pulled back. Maybe cocky, which I tried to keep in check around Don. But he smirked at my reaction. "Jesus, G... you haven't changed a bit since you were in college."

That wasn't true. But I knew what he meant. And I knew he was like me, getting off on the dynamic between me 10 years ago and me now. And liking that difference.

I didn't reply. I didn't know what to say that would be better than the afterglow we were feeling. So I got dressed, eye contact still heavy on Don as he sat, naked and content in his chair, watching me and finally finishing the last of his beer. I picked up my sportcoat... I could put it on later. Tomorrow, I'd definitely be casual.

"Just text me tomorrow and let me know what you're feeling," I instructed. Sometimes Don wasn't in the mood for sex after a tough game, and I always wanted to give him an out.

"You know I will, G," he said. That happy-go-lucky smile getting a more serious paternal look. "Thanks again for coming over."

"Anytime, Coach," I said. "You know that." I patted my pocket to make sure I had my phone. Then I bid him good night.

[imwall-e]

WHAT YOU WANT

Pairing : Angel or Demon! Bucky x Reader

Warning : reader can’t get pregnant, ex-boyfriend cheated on reader, smut, unprotected sex, explicit sexual content, breeding kink, pregnancy. 18+, MINOR DNI

Word count : 2047

The night was already well advanced, yet the lights lit up the city like a thousand suns. Wanda had insisted on spending a few days in Las Vegas, The Entertainment Capital of the World, to take your mind off things.  "You deserve it," she'd said, "especially after the year you've had."

The late-night parties, the booze, the gambling, the glitz and the lights - none of it suited you. You were more of a quiet diner, watching a series or a movie. But Wanda had a point: a new setting would do you a world of good. You were even ready to have a one night stand. A guy only for these vacations. Hell, maybe a new guy every night. Everything that could make you forget your shitty ex.

After all, if Vegas was really Sin City, you were going to taste every single one of them.

Wanda and you had a room at the Ocean, a new hotel that opened only a few months ago and it quickly became the hippest and most luxurious in town. 7 000 rooms, a big casino, pools, restaurants, and more. A city inside the city.

This was your third night here. And tonight you were going to fuck. The two previous nights were just drinking and playing with Wanda, flirting with guys, some kissing and foreplay but nothing more. But tonight was the night, you even had your eyes on one man.

He noticed you too. You were wearing a short, form-fitting, black dress. He was sitting on an arched sofa, drinking a glass of whiskey, his eyes never leaving yours. 

You were at the bar with Wanda, leaning to her you whispered : « Look at the guy over there. Isn't he super hot ? »

« Yes, and he's been watching you for a long time now. I think he was already looking at you yesterday. »

"What ?! How do you…? »

« Listen to me : you go talk to him and I don't want to see you until tomorrow. Have the best night of your life. As for me, I met a guy at the pool this morning and I'm about to have fun too. See you ! »

And like that she left you, leaving with a tall, blonde man wearing glasses. And when you turned your head back to the handsome man, he was next to you. He presented himself : James Bucky Barnes. You told him your name and a smile spread across his face as you took the time to detail him.

His hair was short, but long enough so you could run your hands through his hair. His suit was tailor-made and the color matched his ocean-colored eyes perfectly. You could guess his muscles and were surprised that the buttons on his shirt were still holding. Honestly, you would happily help him remove any of his clothes.

« Do you like what you see, милая ? » (=darling)

« Sorry, » you said as your cheeks took on a slightly pink hue.

« Don't be sorry, милая. I want you to look at me. I like it. » Never a man talked to you like this. Never a man made you wet only with words. His eyes pierced your soul as he was talking : « I saw you last night. I observed you, so beautiful in that red dress. You were with a guy, moving your body against him. You're acting like there is no tomorrow », it was like he could read your mind.

« Isn't that what everyone does in Sin City ? », you asked, biting your lip. There was something about him, something special and you were attracted to it. To him.

« You're right, but you are different », his thumb caressed your lower lip. You could see the beginning of a tattoo on his wrist. Did he have others underneath his perfect suit ? « I hated seeing you with another guy. I wished it was me. But if you choose me tonight, there will be no going back. This won't be a one night thing. I don't do this."

You just met each other, and yet it was like you knew him for years. He wanted you like no one before and you felt like you could cry. A tear must have rolled down your cheek because he gently took your face in his hands, his eyes showing that he only cared.

« What do you want, милая ? » The question drew you out of your thoughts.

« You can't give me what I want, » you answered, moving away from him, tears threatening to fall again. However, Bucky wasn't going to give up on you. You were special, he could feel it and he would do anything to keep you.

« Then let me help you forget, » he gently whispered, his hand opened as an invitation. You took it without hesitation. He never let go of your hand, even as he walked through the crowd of players, taking the elevators and walking through many corridors to his room. This one was very luxurious.

« You seem like a very rich person, Mr. Barnes, » you told him, impressed.

« Baby, I own the place. And please, call me Bucky. »

You entered and he closed the door, then he kissed you after asking your permission. Such a gentleman, you thought. You could feel that he wanted you, his erection was obvious. But he didn't put any pressure on you. 

« What do you want ?, » again with this question. « Ask and I shall give. »

This time, you were not able to stop the torrent of tears that poured out. Bucky held you as you were falling on your knees. He helped you sit on the nearest sofa.

« What is wrong, милая ? Please, tell me. » Bucky was worried. He just wanted to please you.

« I want a baby, Bucky. But that's not possible. »

And like that, all that happened during the past year came back, hurting as if it happened a few hours ago. You told him everything. You had a boyfriend, William, everything was fine and you wanted to start a family. But all the pregnancy tests gave the same response : negative. After some time, you decided to go to a specialist, you both had some tests. The results destroyed you : you were the one who was infertile. Yes, adoption was an option, but it wasn't the same as getting pregnant. You needed time to accept that it would never happen. You thought William would support you, that you would support each other. How wrong you were. He cheated one time, with his best friend. One time, and she was pregnant. Soon after he dropped the bomb, you left, never wanting to hear about him again. And you moved in with Wanda.

You didn't know why you were telling all of this to a stranger. Maybe it was because you never talk about this to anyone except Wanda. Pretending like it never happened was easier. At least that's what you thought. 

Bucky hold your hands all along. Not once did he judge you. Instead, he took you in his arms, kissing your head. Safety. That's what you felt with him : safe. You were safe. You didn't know him but you were sure of this. Raising your head, you let yourself get in his deep blue eyes and you kissed him.

« Come on милая, tell me what you want, » he desperately asked between two kisses.

« I want you, Bucky. » It was like you couldn't get enough of him. You were sure you wouldn't be able to breathe, to dream, to live if he stopped touching you, wanting you. « Please. » Who was he, and what was he doing to you?

« Fuck, I promise I'll buy you a new one, » and before you could ask, he was ripping your dress. His mouth moved from your lips to your nipples, making you moan. He didn't stop, lifting you off the sofa and putting your legs around his waist, guiding you to the giant bed. 

Only then, he let go of you. « Keep your eyes on me милая. » You could feel your pussy getting wetter as you watched him removing his clothes, revealing tattoos all over his arms and chest. You wanted to kiss and lick every last one of them. But what you wanted to taste even more was his cock. It was big and ready to slide inside you.

« As much as I want to feel your mouth around my cock, this night is only about you. » Was he reading your mind or did you just think out loud ? His hands removing your string brought you back to the present moment. After throwing your underwear somewhere in the room, he sucked on your clit, then inserted his tongue in your wet folds. « You taste so fucking good. »

Your moans filled the room, music to Bucky's ears. You were his goddess and he'll do anything to please you. Your hands were in his hair, pulling on it as he was licking you. Soon, his tongue was replaced by a finger.

« How do you feel, милая ? »

« Don't stop, please Bucky, » you begged him.

« Good girl, » he purred, kissing your inner thigh. However, he stopped fingering you only to align his cock with your entrance. « Are you ready, милая ? » You nod, shaking with excitement. « Use your words, » he said, gently biting your neck.

« Yes, Bucky. Make me yours. » Pleased with your answer and spreading your legs open further, he pushed his cock inside you. And damn, was he big. Your legs wrapped around his waist, encouraging him to go deeper. You needed this, needed him. 

Bucky pulled out and slid back in, making you moan louder and louder. With every thrust, it was like he was going deeper. His name escaped your lips. Again. And again. And again, each time he thrust into you, eating that spot. His hands were gripping your hips as he maintained a rhythm, your nails dug into his shoulder, holding onto him like you were going to fall. But he would never let that happen.

« Fuck, милая. You're so tight… that pussy of yours doesn't want to let me go. I won't last long, but trust me there will be other rounds. Night isn't… fuck… over. » His words were getting you closer to your orgasm. « What do you want ? » Again this question, but this time you didn't hesitate.

« I want a baby. Bucky, please breed me ! » You know it wasn't possible, but you needed to believe everything was possible, just this night. To forget this last year. To forget everything. Right now, only you, Bucky and his cock were the only things that mattered.

Bucky was going faster and deeper, giving no time to rest. You were on the edge of an orgasm, and you exploded when he whispered some Russian words into your ear.

« That's it, любимая (=my love), milk my cock », he said as you were holding the sheets, your orgasm still not over. He didn't last longer, filling you a second after. He collapsed on top of you. « How do you feel ?, » he whispered.

« Good, just need time to recover from this, » you chuckled.

« Sleep, любимая. Our night has just started. » And with his words, you fell asleep, snuggling up to him. Bucky watched over you, caressing your body. He couldn't wait until you found out what he gave you. He'll do anything for you, you just had to ask.

2 month later

You were in your bathroom. For how long ? You didn't know. 10 minutes? An hour? you couldn't look away from the pregnancy test. It was positive. But how ? It wasn't possible. Then you remembered your first night with Bucky. A night that led to many others.

I can give you whatever you want.

What do you want?

He often asked you this. And he always provided.

Looking again at the pregnancy test, you wondered who he was. Or what he was.

According to you, is Bucky an angel or a demon ?

[umbran6]

An Error In Divine Bureaucracy

It all starts when Odin's scheme backfires. There are disadvantages to going incognito, after all. Taking the role of 'X' (which personally speaking, sounds foul considering Twitter's still trying to fall into that brand) means that although the King of the Gods can view the workings of Hotel Valhalla, he cannot influence how his hotel is run. Sometimes, that makes the battles a bit too bloody. Sometimes, the thanes decide to overreach their authority. And there was one time they all decided to break convention and make a mock high-school Prom (to the death).

One of these slip-ups is more unconventional: Gunilla decides to patrol Long Island when rumors of a deadly conflict behind the shadows spread to Hotel Valhalla. If Odin was, well, Odin, he could've stopped it. However, Odin, acting as X, cannot keep his lone eye on his Valkyrie Captain.

Thanatos is overworked. He needs to catch up on hunting down all the souls that escaped the Greek Underworld. So, despite his best efforts to keep all the Giants and monsters dead, he can't be perfect. He can't be there when Leo is burning to ashes as he and Festus soar ever higher.

Octavian is a bit slower and more hesitant. Maybe Will's words get to the legacy's head for a few precious seconds, or maybe Nico's aura of death puts fear inside his soul before he steels his nerves. So when he fires himself at Leo and Gaea, it is far too late. Leo has enough time to finish the job.

So when Gunilla spots a boy with flames so bright they mimic a second sun riding a bronze dragon and fighting a monstrous earthly hag, Gunilla doesn't hesitate. The second Leo's body crumbles to ashes, she flies his soul to Hotel Valhalla with Festus as both his luggage and the weapon he died holding. Olympus doesn't catch on to what's happening, which is for the better.

Leo, of course, is extremely bewildered. He's heard Percy and Annabeth's story of how they went to the Underworld—the lines of dead waiting to be judged, Cerberus waiting to chew any and all trespassers into his next meal, and Charon's desire for garish Italian suits. He did not expect to be handed a rune stone, given a mini-bar key, and shuffled into a luxury suite that would make his section of the Argo II look like a shady motel room while his body suddenly looked fit AF. If it weren't for the fact that he had read up on some Norse mythology during his time in the streets, he would've been completely clueless. For fun and convenience's sake, I'll put him on Floor 19.

Like Magnus, Leo thinks he's hallucinating. His room is like a mix of Bunker Nine, Charles Beckendorf's room in the Hephaestus Cabin, and his old room in the apartment he and his mom lived in, all smashed together. For a second, he grounds himself in the familiar — playing with the inventions in his tool belt, petting Festus, and cooking himself some food. Only when he inspects Festus and finds the physician's cure fully intact does he realize something has gone horribly wrong.

Odin, of course, is aware of Leo's arrival at Hotel Valhalla. He only really understands the nature of the hotel's newest guest once Leo's heroic feat is displayed in front of everyone. The thanes, Helgi, and Valhalla's warriors cheer Leo's name. Only the Norns and Odin are silent, both realizing just how exactly things have gone FUBAR.

See, here's the thing about pantheons worldwide when they interact with their divine neighbors: They don't. We're talking about beings functioning under several different rules of reality and their own brands of magic and godly firepower that could tear apart continents and perhaps even the world if they get too sloppy. Syncretism and divine fist-fights have sprouted either differing degrees of bad blood and conflict. If a pantheon chooses to mess with another's favorites, you can be assured the rest of the divine mafia will be out to get them.

Though Leo did the feat with support, he single-handedly masterminded the death of a primordial being. In the Greek Pantheon's view, he should enjoy a peaceful life in Elysium or even join the ranks of Olympus. Leo being chosen as an einherjar is like your favorite athlete getting kidnapped and pressed into military service by another country. Though Leo is getting physical upgrades, the Olympians would see this as an attempt to subvert their sovereignty by kidnapping a hero under their noses. And Odin knows that he and the rest of the Norse gods will need as much einherjar as they can get- losing them in a possible war between pantheons would thin out their numbers.

So Odin decides to break the masquerade, albeit in a limited fashion. Using his ravens to summon Leo and Gunilla, he sheds the disguise of X and reveals why he hid himself from Hotel Valhalla and just how exactly things were screwed up. He apologizes to Leo for essentially kidnapping him, explains to Gunilla just why Leo's recruitment shouldn't have happened, and that touching another pantheon's demigods was a tremendous faux pas.

So he proposes two different possibilities - they can send Leo back to the mortal world and pretend nothing is wrong, or he can stay in Hotel Valhalla until they find a way to spin things so Olympus isn't sending out its best and brightest to do their best to merk the rest of Asgard.

And, well, Leo accepts the second choice. Mainly because he has a bit of an agenda. First, he knows he can't precisely break Calypso out of Ogygia in the state he's in. His master plan to simultaneously kill Gaea and help her relied on the fact that he was dead while Festus brought his body to Ogygia's airspace. He knows it's too much of a stretch, but perhaps the Norse pantheon will have a solution to bypass the magic surrounding Ogygia and allow him to free her.

Aside from that, Leo just wants some peace. He worked himself to the bone, building the Argo II and then maintaining it during the entire month and half-voyage. Most of it had been a thankless job with several near-death experiences. The least he could do was treat himself to a vacation despite the constant TO THE DEATH! experiences Hotel Valhalla had to offer. Heck, maybe he could make some friends here.

Thus begins Leo's stay at Hotel Valhalla. Of course, such a start involves him being impaled several times after the rest of the hotel's guests gang up on him after they make it through Festus during battle training. But he gets used to the constant bloodshed and conflict throughout the hotel, using it to sharpen himself in the ways of combat that Camp Half-Blood didn't entirely teach him. He also learns of the runes, which leads to him scheming. If he can learn how to wield the power of the runes, he can begin conjuring a magical solution to circumvent Ogygia's barriers.

So, for the months Leo is in Hotel Valhalla, he learns. He picks up knives as his primary weapon, second to the hammers; he refines his inventions and upgrades Festus. He low-key (lol) pesters Odin in his X form to teach him the runes. Odin, of course, is having none of it. He would have been willing to teach a knowledge seeker a few tricks in a different situation. But he knows that different pantheon's magics either work beautifully or have disastrous results. One need only look at the Serapis Incident.

Of course, he also makes his own friendships within Hotel Valhalla. We learn another side of Gunilla as Leo tries to get along with the Valkyrie Captain (which is expected because of all the pranks he pulls). He makes friends with TJ and Mallory while trying to get on Odin's good side by showing that he can keep up with the Valhallians (I'm punching myself for that pun).

Then, Sword of Summer comes along, and things get interesting because Mimir tells Odin about Magnus's role. He knows that Magnus will need all the help he can get, and though Blitz and Hearthstone are servants that Mimir trusts, he wants to reinforce any and all chances of winning. He can't help directly since he still wants to maintain the façade of X. However, Leo can. An einherjar demigod who has experience in fighting threats larger than him? Already saved the world once? Seems like the perfect candidate to help stop Ragnarok.

So he sends Leo in—of course, it's not without a price tag. Although Odin may be the king of the gods in Valhalla, he's still ordering a demigod from another pantheon to essentially act as his hand. One that could quickly turn tail if things went to crap or become a turncoat if someone tried to give him a strong enough bribe. Or, you know, alerting Olympus the second he steps on Midgard. Odin knows what Leo wants but not why he seeks it. So, he reluctantly offers to teach the demigod how to wield the runes if he aids Magnus Chase.

Leo is more than happy to accept the task, not only because of what he gets out of it but also because Odin is offering him a deal. He's not going about this like the prophecies that demanded attendance or the apocalypse would come about. He even gets a guaranteed reward once the mission is completed.

So Leo, with help from Gunilla, enters Midgard. He easily fits into the clique of homeless people Magnus is a part of—Leo lived on the streets for most of his life when he wasn't in the foster home system, after all. Festus is with him in his suitcase form, slyly hinting to Hearth and Blitz that he is in the know. Leo is essentially turned by Odin into his divine 007 if 007 lived on the streets as a homeless guy.

He does his best to gain Magnus's trust. He befriends him, proving himself reliable without betraying his awareness of the mystical cloaks and daggers behind the scenes. And, well, he connects with Magnus more than he expected. Maybe it's because he understands Magnus's bitterness and cynical outlook on the world - he went through the same thing when he was younger. Leo just hides it better with a smile. Part of him just wants to protect Magnus.

In the meantime, Magnus is a bit shocked that beyond Blitz and Hearth, another guy his age is willing to look out for him and be his friend. This is most likely something Magnus has never had since his mother died. The first thing that we notice is that during the beginning chapters of Sword of Summer, Magnus is alone. Hearth and Blitz have a few moments in which they show up, but Magnus himself has no one close to his age that he can connect with. This means that despite Leo being the one to do the attaching, Magnus is quite happy that they're attached to the hip.

You guys can probably guess the direction I want to take their relationship. I've read The Homeless Demigod Club. It's one of those fics that lowkey made me realize that crossover ships can be magnificent if you are willing to put in the work to make it work and show how two characters can connect. I would've added this as a spiritual successor to that fic. I will link it here so everyone can read it. (Link)

And then the promised day arrives. Annabeth Chase and her father set foot in Boston, and Leo does his best to hide from their presence while helping Magnus. He discourages Magnus from breaking into his uncle's house but is still willing to do so either way. He follows Magnus's decision because he believes that Magnus has been jerked around so many times that he deserves his own sense of agency. So when Magnus decides to follow Randolph, Leo follows Randolph even though the guy has enough red flags to rival the CCP.

Then Magnus calls forth Sumarbrander, Surt appears, and everything happens. Blitz and Hearth try to intervene and are just as quickly curbstomped like canon. Leo watches, forcing himself to stop and examine each action Surt takes. Then, when Surt entirely focuses on Magnus does he step up.

Magnus POV

"You know, Mr. Volcano, I thought you'd just go for the head. I wonder why you're wasting so much time." Leo stepped forward, suitcase in hand.

"Leo, go away. Get in there and get Hearth, but you don't need to get involved." I protested.

For a second, I was wondering just what all of my homeless friends were smoking because they were suddenly getting all these courageous ideas. Hearth had shot his arrows, Blitz had swung his watch out for ducklings sign. Now Leo - stick thin and somehow not fainting because of the heat - was apparently willing to go mano-a-mano with a guy who was taller than he was.

"Blitz was right, though. It was their mission to protect you. As for me, it's my duty." Leo dropped the suitcase.

I expected it to melt like the cars nearby and the asphalt beneath our feet. But then it grew. Parts started to jut out, panels began to unfold, and Leo's luggage grew despite the laws of physics that were screaming this shouldn't be happening. At first, it was a pure mess, but then a pair of wings sprouted out. A reptilian head somehow appeared from the chaos. Before I knew it, what was once a suitcase my friend dragged around was a bronze dragon that was as tall and wide as a semi truck.

It let out a roar into the sky that made the entire bridge vibrate. Right beneath it, Leo pulled out a pair of knives from that blasted tool belt with an ease that told me he'd done this before. Those brown eyes scanned the entire bridge, and I could feel the air near me dropping a few degrees. If anything, the area around Leo started to blur as if he was absorbing all the heat the 'Black One' radiated.

Surt's gaze turned severe as if satan had dissed one of his takes on fashion. "What are you?"

"You could say I'm a bit like Maggie here — a demigod from a slightly different brand." I was a bit too shocked at the fact that my friend had a mecha dragon to even snark at that.

Leo smiled, but the killing intent it radiated made me want to flinch. "But if you want my full name, you can have it."

Leo beckoned Surt with one of his knives. "I am Leo Valdez. You messed with my friend. Prepare to die."

End POV

The conflict nearly destroys the entire bridge. Leo and Festus's time in Hotel Valhalla has yielded fruit. Though it can be laconically described as a Jujutsu Kaisen-level gang-up, the demigod and his mechanical mount are in sync to the point they can rarely be matched. While Festus is physically stronger than Leo, Leo is faster and has more variety in his attacks, which combine to keep the King of Muspelheim off balance.

However, Leo is still a demigod. No matter the power upgrade being an einherjar and the combat experience he's earned at Hotel Valhalla, he doesn't have the physical might to permanently disable Surt, even with Festus. And although the Jotunn can't burn Leo, Leo can't overcome Surt's own fire and make it non-vice-versa. It is a stalemate until Leo cannot keep up, and Magnus can see that. He awakens Sumarbrander and intervenes, still cutting off Surt's nose. Surt still seizes the chance to kill Magnus, impaling the unknowing son of Freyr with his scimitar. It is only Leo's own reaction that prevents Surt from seizing the sword.

History repeats. Samirah chooses Magnus and brings him to Hotel Valhalla. Blitz and Hearth confer with Mimir on what to do next, while Gunilla returns Leo to the hotel so they can scheme with Odin. When Magnus is fully resurrected, Leo is the familiar face amongst a crowd of strangers, one Magnus can still rely on. Magnus's body is still recovered. Everything seems perfectly in line with canon.

Until it isn't.

Annabeth POV

I've seen my fair share of mortal panic. There was that time at the Gateway Arch during my first quest with Percy (and boy, did part of me want to go back to those days). Then there was the time Kronos and Morpheus broke the chronological sleep bubble that covered all of New York, leading to a human stampede.

So when Dad (I was still getting used to calling him that) got a call from the BPD stating that they found my uncle Randolph in a rabid panic close to ground zero of an explosion, I defied all convenient laws of mortal logic and ran toward the sirens. And the fire truck engines. And probably all emergency services that are known to man.

I will admit that part of me had a raging hatred for my uncle at the moment. It was bad enough that whatever he did had apparently led to the entire mortal side of my family imploding into what was described by my Dad as essentially a nuclear meltdown, with us being split into chunks. Then there was the fact that he somehow hid the death of the only aunt I liked and that the only cousin I trusted was now homeless for two years. And last but not least, the disgraced professor of Harvard called us at midnight saying Magnus was in danger, leading to us getting the closest red-eye flight to Boston.

When we arrived at the scene, I did my best not to pay attention to the people who were hurt. The best I could describe them was that everyone was burnt—some easily mistaken for sunburns, others who would probably need a visit to the hospital. Medics nearby were doing their best to triage the scene while cops were doing their best to get statements out of people who were clearly still shell-shocked from what their eyes may have witnessed.

I quickly spotted Randolph and marched through the chaos, vaguely hearing Dad follow me. He looked physically spared, though a bit shaken up. Which part of me noted was bizarre since, according to Dad, BPD told him a couple of weirdly dressed homeless dudes had dragged him from the epicenter of the explosion.

I had no sympathy, so I got right down to business. "What happened?"

He kept rambling to himself, and I could barely hear his hushed words - sword, black, beast, machine, giant - before I grabbed his shoulder and pinched in a way Chiron taught me would make anyone scream.

"Focus. What the T-" My mind flipped into a Tartarus flashback before I caught myself. "Hell happened?"

Thankfully, Randolph didn't scream, which meant he was either brave or still drunk on adrenaline. But something must have happened because the man's wrinkled face focused on me. "I found Magnus in my home accompanied by another boy. I was bringing him over to you when the meteor struck the bridge-"

My mind was already poking several holes in his discussion - he could've called Dad if he had already found Magnus and the bridge where the explosion took place was farther away from us. Still, I pretended to follow along and nodded.

"What happened to Magnus?" I asked, and Randolph turned pale.

"He - he fell out of the bridge. The meteor hit us head-on. I somehow got lucky, but Magnus got launched out of my car and - "

"Randolph." My father's voice turned deadly serious. "I saw your car in a twenty-minute parking lot. Already ticketed. So if I may speak so frankly, let's cut the bullshit and tell us the truth."

I winced at that. Mainly because my father rarely cursed - he had been giving off an air of wholesomeness when I stayed with him. The fact that he was willing to start cursing showed just how far things had gone wrong.

Randolph surrendered at that and started talking — about Aunt Natalie's death and its supernatural causes and how he thought Magnus was the next in line to die. How he believed Magnus was the son of a Norse god and that his birthright was apparently an all-powerful sword. Then he stated he found Magnus in the Chase mansion with the other boy and how the boy had insisted on sticking with Magnus. He told us how he urged Magnus to claim his birthright and that my cousin had succeeded before a man claiming to be Surt appeared.

Then, I learned how some of Magnus's homeless friends had tried to defend him before the other boy stepped up. "Wait. This guy claimed to be a demigod?"

Randolph nodded at that. "Yes. I didn't believe it either - the kid was so thin I could've folded him into my drawers and still have space for my clothes."

"But he still stood up. He and that blasted suitcase-monster of his. He matched Surt, if only for a while. Then Magnus got involved and he was - and he was -"

Randolph shed a few tears, and I almost had to recoil at his words. Still, I soldiered on. Death had always been part of a demigod's life, whether they were victims, witnesses, or causes. I would have time to mourn for the cousin that my family had failed.

"Can you describe what this guy looked like? He may be able to tell us about his relationship with Magnus. And what he knows about the truth." I asked, doing my best to keep the conversation going.

Randolph vibrated, clearly still shaken up. Yet he kept talking. "Of course. Give me a second. Frederick?"

My dad pulled out a few tissues from the pocket of his suit jacket, which Randolph blew into so strongly it reminded me of an elephant. Disposing the tissues into a nearby trashcan, my uncle looked at us.

"Yes. Very recognizable fellow. He disabled all of the electronic alarms I put in there. Thin, of course. Kind of looked like - what do teenagers call pretty boys these days? Never mind. He looked like one of those. Light brown skin. Curly black hair, brown eyes. Magnus probably had a crush on him, considering how he looked at the boy."

I rolled my eyes. "Clothes?"

"Yes, yes. White shirt with a bit of a collar. A green jacket that was too big for him - probably a woman's? Blue jeans. He also had a tool belt."

Suddenly, I felt like I had taken a dip in the Boston River. I had been willing to dismiss the initial description because anybody could've had a similar face and hair. I would've ruined the search if I just looked for the most likely person. But the tool belt was too much out of left field to ignore.

I seized his jacket lapels, almost tempted to lift him up. I could do it, too. Because there was no way the person Randolph was describing to me could've been in Boston, much less alive.

"What was his name?" I whispered out.

"Pardon?"

"What was his name," I repeated myself, tempted to pull out my knife.

"Oh yes. Thankfully, he was upfront about it. Who the hell quotes The Princess Bride?" Randolph gave a small laugh about it before he looked at me straight in the eyes and flipped my world upside down. "His name was Leo Valdez."

End POV.

The Sword of Summer is also flipped upside down because it is no longer just a mission to stop Fenris Wolf from being unleashed upon the nine worlds. With Annabeth finding the truth about Leo's location, nearly all the members of the Argo II crew (Frank and Hazel can't drop their posts in New Rome after all) do their best to get to Boston ASAP. They had never heard any whispers or truths about Leo's circumstances - you know, because Odin needed to keep everything in the DL. Finding out a guy that they believed was dead for six months was actually chilling with homeless dudes in Boston is a recipe to make your friends both pissed and worried at the same time.

Unfortunately, this also puts a kibosh on any plans to follow canon because Leo is now being hunted by his friends in a situation where staying incognito is vital. Of course, they can't break into Asgard or Valhalla because they don't know how to get there. Any attempts at Iris-Messaging Leo go horribly wrong because Iris needs a cross-dimensional roaming plan for her services to work in this situation. When Leo returns to Midgard to help Magnus, the gloves come off on the search.

Leo's involvement doesn't just add spice; it force-feeds the plot enough Carolina reaper peppers to set its mouth on fire and cause diarrhea that needs its own fallout zone. The crew of the Argo II chases him down when Annabeth meets Magnus, leading them to accidentally stumble across the Nine Realms when Percy tracks Magnus and Sam after their encounter with Jormungand. They each end up getting scattered across the Nine Realms - Jason into Jotunnheim, Piper into Svartalfheim, Annabeth falling into Folkvanger, while Percy gets the short end of the stick and is stuck in Midgard.

The Seven think that Magnus and Co. are holding their friend against his will. Magnus believes it's people from Leo's past who want him dead. Leo can't get a single word about the truth as things erupt too easily into conflict, and Odin's mandate for secrecy stops him from giving the full story. Regardless, he tries to keep the peace as he, Magnus, and the rest of the crew run into each other through the realms.

It all accumulates at Lyngvi. Surt arrives. Fenris Wolf tries to break free. The warriors of Floor 19, alongside the Valkyries, actually join up with Magnus and co because Gunilla has been briefed by Odin as to what exactly is going on. And the crew of the Argo II makes landfall right in the middle of the fight. They're all quick to realize that the fire giants are their opponents, and the tide of battle is turned with the sudden influx of reinforcements, no matter their origin.

Having an additional four out of seven heroes who also had a hand in saving the world? One of them, you know, having powers over the ocean in the middle of a freaking island? That's no longer a battle; that's the opposing side being Amazon-delivered to the closest morgue with same-day shipping.

When things are settled, and everyone is tired from simultaneously kicking Surt to the curb and imprisoning Fenris Wolf, things finally get cleared up. Odin reveals himself early to explain to the Seven what happened to Leo on August 1. Of course, Odin does his best to spin things in the best possible light for the Norse Pantheon and portray himself as doing his best to help Leo recover from the post-death experience. Leo is always welcome to stay at Hotel Valhalla or return to Camp Half-Blood, but he urges the rest of the Seven that they will have to keep their experience secret.

The Seven think Leo will go back to Camp Half-Blood. After all, in their eyes, Camp is the place that Leo is most familiar with. It's the place that he should belong. This is his chance to take a clean break from his stay at Hotel Valhalla and return to Camp Half-Blood. Only Odin knows differently, while everyone on the 19th Floor, alongside Magnus and Co., is wondering if Leo really is going to drop them like a flaming bag of turd.

And Leo declines. In another lifetime, in another set of circumstances, he may have joined the Seven and returned to Camp Half-Blood. But now? Well... he would admit, he has grown to love Hotel Valhalla. Though he gets bodied daily, he feels included compared to the months he spent in Bunker Nine hammering away at the Argo II. He has friends with which he can actually be friends, compared to his time being the only person in a sea of couples. And maybe he's gotten attached to Magnus, but they didn't need to know that.

He doesn't say goodbye. With enough time, they can genuinely be friends instead of the coworker dynamic he always felt he had with the rest of the Argo II crew. So, instead, he hands Piper the last invention he made before his world was once again dominated by a quest to save the world. For a second, she thinks it's a remote. And in a way, it is. His name is written on it in ancient Greek. But it only has a single button, with a single rune.

ᛗ

Mannaz (For those more knowledgeable, please excuse me if I'm wrong and correct me) is the rune of humanity as a concept—of society, friendships, individuality, and a person's willingness to help one's fellow human. The intention is clear—he's always a button press away if they ever need help.

With that, the two pantheons go their separate ways. And hopefully, things should be at peace now. Right? Right? ... Right?

But as everyone knows, they aren't. The sun hasn't reached its final verse, Ragnarok still has many triggers, and people scheme to bring everything down behind the shadows. Peace is still a long way off. And Ragnarok will eventually eradicate the world. All everyone is doing is staving off the inevitable.

But then again, isn't that just part of being a demigod?

FIN

P.S. @pjowasmy1stfandom- I've cooked. Hope you enjoy the meal.

[gabessquishytum]

Dream found himself as findom for two men. He meets Corinthian, ceo of a big tech company, online before he even knew findom was a Thing. Hes just a natural tho and proceedes to humiliate Corinthian for being such a pathetic man for needing to buy the privilege of taking dream shopping in the first place. Dream hasnt even let Corinthian do more than place a hand on his lower back when theyre out and Corinthian wants to take dream to a luxury fucking beach resort even if dream decides to ignore him the entire time.

Dream meets hob gadling by accident. Hes also in the tech industry, not that dream cares or listens when hob is buying him the most expensive drinks at the bar theyre at. Dream knows what hes doing by now, and he thinks he would rather like to cuck the both of these men against each other.

Corinthian is furious when dream cancels an appointment with a jeweler with him to go to DINNER with his business rival HOB GADLING whos one of the cockiest assholes hes ever met and hes not even suave or cool about it like Corinthian hes loud and brash and obnoxious and he gets to take dream on an actual DATE???

dream plays them against each other relentlessly and industry conferences have never been more tense.... it all errupts when Corinthian finally gets the privilege of taking dream to a gala (whatever gown jewelry and shoes dream wants are provided ofc) and dream even allows him to kiss the back of his ringed hand like this is seriously the best night of the Corinthian’s life and he knows hob fucking gadling is going to be there and see who his plus one is which is even better... until near the end of the night dream has slipped from his side and Corinthian sees hob gadling helping dream into his stupid little sportscar. He shows up to hobs hotel room and dream answers in his little silk pajama set.

"Believe it or not Corinthian but i do need someone who can pleasure me sexually"

Thats how dream gets two very eager to please service tops and dream has them bid on whos allowed to eat his pretty cunt out<3

-🔪

Hnnnggg we'll stick with the findom theme tonight because I'm low-key obsessed. I love how you've flipped it make Dream the dom. I think he would be amazing tbh. Those cold blue eyes, that slightly sneering mouth. He was made to walk on pathetic men in his $10,000 dollar heels.

Poor Cori, showing up at that hotel room. He's so hard in his perfectly pressed trousers. And he's almost pathetically grateful when he's allowed into the room! Except for the fact that Hob is there, shirt sleeves rolled up, holding a glass of something expensive and alcoholic. Dream sits delicately in Hob’s lap while Cori just stands there, seething with rage and lust.

First they bid for a kiss. Dream sets up a time limit and sits back, sipping his drink while Hob and Cori spit bids at each other, higher and higher with little or no regard for the consequences. Cori wins - he doesn't even flinch as he writes a cheque for $80,000. Oh, its so worth it. Dream swishes over and melts into Cori's arms. The kiss is the most wonderful, delicious, intoxicating thing. Dream mewls into his mouth and submits when Cori licks at him, and it's just perfect. Until it's over. And Hob is still there, legs spread, smirking as Dream slips away from Cori's grasp.

"I hope you enjoyed it, because that's all you're getting." Hob says, and he slips his arm around Dream’s waist. Cori is outraged - he's never been allowed to touch Dream like that... without paying. "Or maybe he could pay to watch while i eat your cunt. What do you think, darling?"

Dream just smiles. "If he can afford it."

And Cori knows that he's being goaded, but fuck it feels so good. He knows he's going to cum his brains out tonight, whatever happens. Hob hasn't won the next bet yet, after all.

(Dream will reward both his lovely money-slaves, don't worry. Everything he does is for the sake of bringing pleasure to his sweet boys. He'll even let them buy him breakfast in the morning, if they keep being so good for him <3)

[writingoncloudydays]

Accidental praying

Summary: Dean has been having very explicit dreams of his best friend. Little does he know that each time he says his name, Castiel hears him. He hears every single sound Dean makes. Castiel enjoys listening to Dean; his voice makes his body shudder with each moan he hears. However, Castiel has a cracking point that ends up involving some brownies.

Warnings: Smut-sih, wet dream, fluff, making out, goes from being smutty to cute fluffy making out.

1.40k words

Life in the bunker has been more complex to adjust to than Sam and Dean thought. Not having a home for so long, only staying at shitty hotels and sleeping in baby, which was more of a struggle for Sam. With his lanky frame that clashed with the confined spaces of their temporary lodgings. He would grumble about his discomfort. The cramped seats and lack of legroom only added to his frustration, prompting Dead to fiercely defend his beloved Impala. To him, his car was more than just a transposition; it symbolised constancy in their otherwise chaotic world. 

Yet, despite the challenges, the allure of a place to call their own beckoned to them. The bunker offered sanctuary from the constant threat of danger lurking outside. They no longer had to worry about enemies breaking in or monsters lurking in the shadows. Here, they could finally relax, surrounded by familiar walls and the comforts of home.

For Sam and Dean, the prospect of real beds with clean sheets was a luxury they had long forgotten. Separate rooms meant privacy, a rarity in their line of work, where every moment was spent in each other's company. And separate bathrooms? That was practically unheard of, a small indulgence they never knew they craved until now.

As they settled into their new surroundings, Sam and Dean realised that perhaps, amidst the chaos of their lives, there was still room for a semblance of normalcy. The bunker wasn't just a shelter; it was a refuge, a place where they could finally breathe easily and be themselves. And as they embraced this newfound sense of stability, they knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, they would face them together in the safety of their own home.

However, they would still get Castiel randomly appearing and spooking them, leading to awkward situations. For instance, when Sam walked out of his shower with only a towel, Cass startled him, which caused him to drop the towel. Sam couldn’t look him in the eye for two weeks, and his face would heat up in embarrassment. Dean found the whole situation hilarious until he had his own encounter with the angel. 

It was a typical morning. Dean did not have anything on for that day. He slept in, letting his dreams surround him. Lately, a particular angel has made a star appearance in a not-so-friendly way. The dreams are in all sorts of places around the bunker, his room, the table in the library, against most of the walls, and Dean favoured the kitchen. The kitchen always felt like his second home, cooking for Sam, drinking after a long hunt, and talking with Castiel. However, lately, he has been unable to enter the room without getting hot flashes of all the different ways Castiel had his way with him.

Dean woke from another one of dreams, the sheet sticking to his body, his breath heavy, his chest rising and falling fast. Panting, he lets out a groan, his cock staining against his boxers, a stain of pre cum can be seen forming. Dean kicks the sheet off to ease his discomfort, letting the cool air flow over his body. The air does little to nothing to cool his body temperature, only making his nipples peak and adding to his Harding cock.

His eyes are heavy with sleep groaning from the familiar feeling of his cock straining against his boxers. Rubbing his face, letting his mind wander to how Castiel's hands and mouth felt on him, grabbing and manhandling as he pleased.

“Fuck Cass.” He groaned and ran his hands down his face.

“Yes, Dean?” His voice mixed with the sound of his wings fluttering.

"FUCK Cass!" Dean's voice now panicked, jumping to cover his hard-on with the blanket. "What are you doing here?" He asked, trying to calm down, though the thought of being caught by Castiel moaning his name had Deam squirming under his gaze.

“You called me. Are you hurt?” Castiel said, doing his adorable head tile when he was confused as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Dean blushed like a schoolboy around his crush.

"Your breathing is all rushed, and you're quite red in the face and sweating. Are you sick?" Castiel starts making his way over to Dean before he shouts.

"Wait, it's fine, Cass, just leave," Dean stated quickly while bringing his knees to rest against his chest to hide his hard cock from Castiel's gaze. At Dean's request, Castiel stops moving towards him, his eyes roaming his body, slowly taking in Dean's beautiful sight. From his flushed face, making his freckles more noticeable. He would sit, hold his face, and count them if Dean let him. His broad shoulders were slightly shaky, his breathing was heavy, and sweat beads were running down his stomach following the outline of Dean's abs. The sight makes Castile groan, the growing urge to sit on his knees in between Dean's legs and lick up his chest, run his hands over his pecs, and kiss him till he is no longer breathing. He doesn't act on his thoughts, only nodding, heading to the door and closing it behind him.

Dean cusses and jumps out of his bed to head to the shower to deal with his problem and his plan to try and avoid Cass Castiel for the rest of the day. Which didn’t end up being too hard as the angel seemed to have disappeared to who knows where, not that Dean cared.

Whenever Dean is upset, he ends up in the same place as always, in the kitchen, with a beer and brownie mix on the table. Baking has become one of Dean's favourite time escapes—no stress, just something fun to do. Dean places all the ingredients in the bowl and mixes them, slowly folding them together before pouring them into the oven tray. Perfect.

Dean must wait until they are done cooking or when he gets too impatient and eats them raw. Being too distracted with the baking, he didn't notice the familiar sound of wings fluttering into the kitchen. He needs to start paying more attention to carefully placing the tray in the oven. Greeting Castiel with a perfect view of his ass, his gaze darkens, watching Dean's hips sway a little. Closing the oven and setting the timer for 15 minutes before standing up straight and taking a swing of his beer.

Dean's heart raced as he processed the whirlwind of sensations Cass's close proximity induced. "Ah, Jesus, Cass, you gave me a heart attack," he blurted out, trying to regain composure.

Cass, unfazed, responded, "You show no sign of having a heart attack, and what does Jesus have to do with it?"

Dean chuckled nervously, attempting to brush it off. "It's a metaphor, Cass, don't worry," he said, realizing how close Cass was and feeling his face flush with heat.

Dean struggled to focus as Cass leaned in closer, trapping Dean with his muscular arms. Cass's disregard for personal space was both exhilarating and disorienting. "Um, need anything else, Cass?" Dean stumbled over his words, excited as Cass smirked and locked eyes with him.

Cass's gaze lingered on Dean's lips, sending shivers down Dean's spine. "No, I'm not trying to kill you," Cass replied cryptically, his hands moving closer to Dean's body.

Caught off guard, Dean's mind raced as he tried to process Cass's intentions. "I-I'm sorry, I-I didn't mean to," Dean stuttered nervously, feeling Cass's hands gently resting on his hips.

But Cass's reassurance and comforting touch melted Dean's nervousness away. "You have nothing to be nervous about, Dean," Cass murmured, his lips tantalizingly close to Dean's.

Dean felt emboldened by Cass's words, drawn to Cass's lips, his heart pounding with anticipation. Dean surrendered to the moment's intensity as their lips met passionately, wrapping his arms around Cass's neck.

Their kiss deepened as Cass's hands roamed over Dean's body, igniting a fiery desire within him. Lost in the heat of the moment, Dean gasped for breath as Cass's lips trailed down his neck, leaving a trail of fiery kisses in their wake.

But Sam and Dean's sudden entrance abruptly interrupted their passionate embrace, causing Dean to crash back into reality. Flustered and embarrassed, Dean quickly tried to deflect attention from their intimate moment, only to be teased mercilessly by the Winchester brothers. Dean couldn't shake the lingering sensation of Cass's touch as the chaos unfolded around them, his mind already wandering.

[ehlnofay]

Summerfest Day 7 - COMPANION

The hotel’s dining room is reminiscent of the restaurants Caelestis remembers eating at when ze was younger, on the rare occasions zir mother coaxed zem out of the house. The smooth gleam of the floors, the crackling glow of the hearth; even the weave of the napkins, the buffed edges of the tabletop, the candle in its little dyed-glass holder.

It makes Caelestis think of the stained glass in the walls of the temples; which is strange, because ze’d never been an avid temple-goer, and it’s been years since ze’s seen one. They don’t have the grand windows in the sporadic shrines in Morrowind; they are much smaller, most of the time, more self-contained, as if whoever designed the buildings – or, it almost felt, the buildings themselves – knew how oddly placed they were, soft little sacrariums dedicated to foreign gods. Most of them were never very busy. Caelestis understands why, ze thinks; ze’s never fully grasped the appeal of a religiously lived life, constant thought for beings so eternally far away. Gods that walk, two feet on the ground with the rest of them, have much more allure.

(Vivec always used to float, cross-legged, above his own shrine. Sotha Sil didn’t even have legs.)

It’s very nice, the setup of the tables, the art on the walls, the stained candle-cups and marbled glass of the windows and the quiet chatter of the room all around, the clinking of plates and cutlery, the gorgeous smell of food now more nostalgic than familiar. A jug of wine sits on the table before zem, untouched; the food is still steaming. Zir companion picks up a spoon to prod their dish with.

“You told me,” he says gravely, “that the cuisine of Cyrodiil had fewer insects.”

The prawns, spattered with sauce and spices, their antennae curled and lifeless eyes gleaming, do look remarkably buglike.

“Fewer,” Caelestis says, “not none.” A pause; ze looks down at zir own dish of egg and carefully lined up squid cakes. It’s unfamiliar enough now that ze needs to prepare zirself to try it. “Besides, they’re crustaceans, not insects.”

“A paltry difference,” he replies, with a flick of the spoon, and he cleaves the boiled-soft head off with its edge.

It’s strange, to be in a place like this again; so different to the places ze can easily afford in Morrowind, and the luxuries ze’s grown accustomed to. It’s strange to be in a public house at all, really, sitting over a meal ze does not need, opposite a stranger’s face; but they are practising, the pair of them. Play-acting at normalcy in a place that gives them some little leeway. Caelestis’ clothes aren’t at all the fashions worn by anyone else at any other table in the hall; zir skin, dry and mottled, is free of any visible scars or tattoos, cheeks plump and uneven with soft flesh taken from the inside of zir thigh. Zir hair lacks its shaved sides, long and dark and twined into an elaborate twisting shape reaching down the back of zir neck. (That’s the strangest change, honestly, and one ze hasn’t attempted before; ze’s left the barely-visible seams to make it easier to find where the join comes in, and stored zir real scalp, its hair shaved almost to the skin, in the leather folds of zir kit.) Zir companion, a bug-eyed Dunmer with temperamental hair and glisteringly new clothes, seems more at home in the change of scenery than ze is. With every flourish of hir cutlery, the firelight catches on the blood-red ring on hir middle finger.

(Caelestis still can’t look at it without grimacing; but maybe that’s for the best. Ze’s trying to get better at controlling zir facial expressions anyway.)

“I am curious,” says the traveller-who-is-not-Vivec to his companion-who-is-not-the-Nerevarine, and he pops the spoonful of prawn into his mouth, shell intact. (Caelestis has never eaten prawn zirself – ze’s always been very put off by meat that looks like animals – but ze’s reasonably certain that that’s not how it’s done.) He chews, eyes dark as wine; asks, “Why here?”

Caelestis takes up zir own cutlery. “It’s supposed to be the best in the city,” ze says. Ze’d ordered eggs, because bird isn’t so different from kwama, and seafood, because Vvardenfell has sea, too. (Ze has never taken easily to change, no matter how minor.)

Ze manages to carve off a forkful of squid. It smells nice, at least, though it will be irritating getting it out, later. On a normal day ze wouldn’t eat. But they’re practising, pretending to be people. People eat, as a general rule, so the not-Nerevarine has to, too.

Vivec flicks his eyes to the side. “No. Why any hotel?”

Ah.

Caelestis eats the squid, for the sake of looking like ze’s doing anything other than scrambling for an answer.

(The answer is, simply, that ze’s afraid; to ask for things, or to be given them, and then not want to refuse.)

“I think it’s best,” ze says, once the perfectly nice bite of squid cake is chewed and swallowed, “that I keep this time short.” (It’s been years of letter-writing; years of growing apart; ze is terrified down to zir bones that the minute ze steps into that house it will feel wrong. Even worse, that it won’t.)

(It’s a final farewell. No sense in dragging it out. Surely that will only make it more painful.)

There’s too much to it; too much mess and confusion; Caelestis stares at zir egg and squid and doesn’t mean to say anything, but the words fall ugly and vulnerable onto the ceramic of zir plate anyway. “I don’t even know what I’ll say.”

Vivec’s spoon clinks against his dish. The candle in its little glass dances. “Say everything,” he says, with the tone of one bestowing enlightening knowledge; “You’re lucky enough to know this is your last chance.” Guilt rises, as it always does, in Caelestis’ throat; the spoon clanks again and zir companion says, “This is actually quite good.”

“I’m glad you like it,” Caelestis replies. Zir fork squeaks. They are quiet, for a brief moment, in the noise of the hall.

Vivec reaches for the wine jug, pours hirself a glass; offers it to Caelestis, who declines. Food is more difficult to extract when mixed with liquid; besides, ze’s never liked wine enough to drink it for the sake of the taste, and it does nothing to zem, now.

Alcohol, like most intoxicants, works its effects through the bloodstream. Caelestis is a dry and clotted corpse.

“It is good,” Vivec repeats, and tilts their head to the side, thoughtful. It’s odd to see the hair move with them. “Hm. Perhaps you can just leave me here when you go to visit your mother.”

Their eyes look as deep red as the wine swirling around in the glass. It’s an unfamiliar brand; from Skingrad, Caelestis would bet. Most Cyrod wines are. The whole county is a vineyard, according to zir mother; ze’s never been, personally.

Maybe before they return to Vvardenfell, they could take a look. It isn’t as if travelling time is an issue. It isn’t as if any time is an issue anymore.

Caelestis prods at the spiced yolk of zir egg. “Maybe,” ze says. “But surely you’d get bored of sitting around eating prawns after a while.”

When Vivec smiles, an odd and private twist of the lips, the guise flickers; his hair gleams and one eye flashes gold. “You underestimate me,” he says gravely, beginning an attempt to shell the prawn with careful fingers. “I’m sure I’ve written verse on this very subject. Anything can be interesting if you choose to be interested by it.”

There is soft meat spreading over his fingers, knuckle-deep in cracking the carapace. Caelestis stares at the shell, wonders vaguely if ze could do anything with it; if it’s flesh-like enough; if it’s dead enough. Vivec extracts the innards with the care of a surgeon and swallows the shelled prawn in one. For a moment it all feels overwhelming – so staggeringly unbelievable – so ridiculous; Caelestis thinks of their first meeting, strange and awkward and so, so heavy. Ze’d still been alive, then, still growing accustomed to the new shape corprus and ridding zirself thereof gave zem, still figuring out how to talk around zir half-tongue, still carving out a place in Morrowind’s mythos to fit zem. It was staggering; it was overpowering; ze’d been choking on parables, still, so very unprepared to meet him in person. When ze first pushed open that door Vivec hadn’t even yet called off the curse they’d levelled on zir head; the temple was ready and willing to kill zem at a word. They’d each spoken of it simply, perfunctorily; that they had tried to have zem executed was, at that time, the simplest part of their relationship.

(Now, Caelestis thinks, the simple thing it all boils down to is different. Now, they are allies. Everything else is secondary.)

Vivec had seemed intimidating then. Alien, unknowable; the centre of a legend ze’d found some strange comfort in since ze was a child, hovering still and silent above hir own ancient shrine; a god, back when it meant something bigger than it does now. Hir speech had been short and weighty, every word pronounced as if it were momentous, solemn as anything. Caelestis doesn’t think ze saw hir smile until perhaps their fourth meeting, and even then it had been wry. Ze didn’t joke, then; said nothing flippantly; carried hirself with a comportment befitting the roll ze was taking.

Caelestis wonders, now, how true any of it was. How true any of it is, or ever has been. Ze’s not an enormously insightful person, and people are complicated; gods, seemingly, even more so. Especially when they’re both at once.

Zir fork clinks against the porcelain of the plate. “You seem happier,” ze says. The fire crackles.

“Do I?” says Vivec; Caelestis can never usually read his tone, but now he sounds curious. He leans back into the smooth wood of his chair, eyes settling on the elaborately coffered ceiling. (It really is overpoweringly strange seeing him with hair; long and pulled back, escaping easily from its ties. Caelestis wonders if this is how he looked, before the Heart; ze hasn’t asked.)

He gazes at the ceiling as if some grand thing might be inscribed in its painted contours.

“I think,” he says after a moment, Caelestis watching him while slicing off a mouthful of squid cake, “I am relieved,” and he nods decisively as he looks back at his plate, moves in to peel open another prawn. In the light of the little candle, his fingers look slick.

Caelestis lifts zir forkful to zir mouth. Ze does not say why? does not say how? does not say don’t you grieve for all we’ve wrought? but it must be written on the lines of zir face, because they meet zir eyes and tilt their head, gentle.

“You know I wasn’t surprised,” ze says, and Caelestis nods, once. “All of it – all we’ve done – was eons in the making.” A pause; hir fingers crack open a shell. “I hadn’t spoken to either of them in decades. I grieved for each loss long before it came to pass.”

The room swirls and eddies around them, a mess of chatter, painted-on scenery. Caelestis feels, sometimes, like ze could reach out and smear the world around zem with a touch.

Vivec sets hir food down in the ceramic dish. “And now there is nothing left to dread. I’m done mourning.” He brings his thumb to his mouth, licks off the juice of the meat. His teeth are small. He smiles, suddenly, wide and brilliant. “I confess, I didn’t think this far ahead. Now it seems all the world is new.”

“Soon enough,” Caelestis says drily, “it will be.”

Vivec raises their glass to that. Caelestis chinks zir fork against it, after they spend several seconds refusing to bring it back down. “Salut,” ze says, watches him drink.

He sets the glass down. “I am glad,” he says, “that I do not navigate this new mortal world alone.” His dish glisters in the firelight, spices mingling with the air’s thin smoke; he tips it toward zem and offers, “Crustacean?”