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#I adore Angel and don't understand the hate :(

enigmatist17 · 1 month

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Oh gods I just rewatched Becoming Pt 1 for the first time since I watched it, and I forgot that Angelus reverted back to Liam before the guilt from his soul hits him like a freight train

One minute, you're talking to a pretty lady in an alley, the next some Romanian guy is saying you're a mass murderer and is relishing in the fact you're going to suffer for eternity before boom, guilt aaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

#buffy the vampire slayer #angel #angel btvs #angelus #liam o'malley #liam #liam btvs #just spinning #I adore Angel and don't understand the hate :(

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chrolloluvr · 3 months

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Adam, Mammon, Alastor and Lucifer with a insecure S/o

💋ྀིྀིAdam, Mammon, Alastor, Stolas and Lucifer w/ Insecure S/O 💋ྀིྀི

Note: Yesss i love this request!! As somebody who is insecure about quite a few things I think this is so cute <3 🥰 Also I hope you don't mind me adding Stolas <3

Female!reader, GenderNeutral!Reader for Stolas <3

Warnings: Cussing, mentions of sex

Mammon 💸:

He does not grasp the concept of insecure. Why be insecure when your with him? He chose you, right? He is extremely picky, so what is there to worry about? Why are you insecure? To him you are adorable, so who cares?

He may notice you are feeling down lately, or that you have been avoiding him, which agitates him to no end.

So at first, he will have you bottle up your insecurity, just so that he can be your big savior, and make you feel loved by him.

When you tell him exactly what you are insecure about, he audibly laughs. Well, he doesn't mean to make you upset or anything, but like, are you being serious?

He will say things like:

"Babe, what the fack? you look hot, theres no need to beat around the goddamn bush."

"What, is it your (insert insecurity)? cmon, don't be such a sour puss. You look just fine to me."

"Cmon sweets, whats on ya mind? How about we go out to the restaurant you love, yeah?"

He will go to that restaurant, even though he hates it. He just does not like seeing his little trophy upset or visibly irked. Even if there is Paparazzi around, he will hide them from you, or bribe them to leave.

His favorite insecurity on you would have to be your thighs. He loves squeezing them, jiggling them, putting his head between them, seeing them move when you walk, etc. If you have bigger ones, he thinks that one of, if not the best physical quality about you. He will spend his time ranting to you while snug in your legs about how annoying his newest stars are, or how Ozzie did this, or Fizzarolli did that-

Overall, he will make sure you dont go on with that contentious bullshit ever again. He cant have his favorite little lady upset, can he?

Adam 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪:

He is Adam, the first man, he does not ever feel insecure. he never makes mistakes.

But in reality, he has felt insecure. Especially after his two wives left him for the. same. man.

He does not notice until a while later that you are upset. He thinks you are happy all the time because of him. But he's basically your husband, so he will notice things about you, that you don't even know about yourself (same as mammon)

When you tell him you are insecure, he coddles you, and threats you like you're an infant

He will say things like:

"Your insecure? About what? You have to be lying babe, you look perfect to me."

"Relax babe, im kidding, so its your (insert insecurity)? Oh, are you joking?"

"How about... you and me do a little something something, hm?"

(He is a sex deviant, so he will always bring that up.)

He tries to make it up to you by putting on your favorite movie, and bringing you your favorite snacks. But he ends up eating most of them himself...

But anyways, his favorite insecurity is your ass. He likes squeezing it, spanking it, etc. Even if it small, he likes it and thinks its cute. He will randomly pick you up and throw you over his shoulder and just, spank it, and put you down??

So overall, he is okay at comforting you, but dont come running to him unless you dont want things to turn somehow sexual.

Alastor 🎶:

He has never felt insecure in his twisted mind.

He will notice immediately that you are upset about something. He takes action fairly quickly, by rubbing your shoulders, etc.

When you tell him you are insecure, he is very understanding. You are his dearest, so he wants to take care of you, and make you feel like an angel.

While he may not understand insecurity himself, he understands you are disarmed, and that bothers him greatly.

He will say things like:

"My love, don't fret about these regal thoughts. What are you feeling down about now?"

"Is this about your (insert insecurity)? If so, that is silly nonsense, my dear. You know I do not mind."

"How about, we take a stroll. Maybe we could stop by Rosie, she sure knows how to cheer you up, hm?"

He tries his best to make you feel better, because your feelings reflect on him. While it may not seem so on the outside, his heart tears when he sees you like this.

His favorite insecurity has to be your hip dips. He thinks they make you look very feminine and womanlike, which he likes. He likes to run his hands over them, enjoying the way his fingers sink into them.

So overall, Alastor makes you feel very loved and cared for. You will never feel discontent as long as he is in your vicinity.

Lucifer 𓆩𓆪:

He has felt insecure a lot. From being casted down into Hell, to his wife somewhat recently leaving him, (to his height), he knows what it feels like

But since meeting you, he is very attentive over you.

So he notices very quickly that you are upset.

When the time comes to tell him that you are insecure, (because he kept asking you frantically whats wrong), He is very understanding.

He will say things like:

"Seriously? You? Insecure? Well we cant have that here, now can we?"

"Its your (insert insecurity)? Its ok honey, I love you just how you are."

"Honey, how about the two of us stay home for the day, hm?"

He will stay by your side a lot more often now that you told him that. He is a very doting and worried lover like Stolas, so he wants you to feel comfortable with yourself.

His favorite insecurity of your is also your thighs. Big or small, he loves them. His favorite is when his head and cheeks are squished against them. Or when he's eating you out, and he feels the warmth smothering his face. He loves the way they move when you walk as well like Mammon.

So overall, he knows what it is like to be insecure. He wants you to feel loved, and like you are cherished by him.

Stolas 𓅪:

Feels insecure a lot like Lucifer. WIth his (ex)wife, concerning his daughter, etc.

He also will notice your changes instantly. SO he will constantly ask if something is wrong. When it comes to you being upset, he will be very combative in telling him.

So when you tell him you are insecure, he feels for you. He will hold you close, and let you lay on top of his fluffy, feathered body.

He will say things like:

"Sweetheart, what is troubling you so much? I am always by your side, you know. So if you want to talk, we can."

"Your (insert insecurity)? But they are beautiful! You don't have to worry my owlette."

"How about we watch a movie? That always seems to cheer you up."

He is very concerned about you, and just wants to make you happy. That is his duty in his mind. If he cant make the rest of his family happy, he can surely make you happy, right?

His favorite insecurity of yours is stretch marks. He likes them, and he thinks they look like cute little tiger cub stripes. He will run his slender fingers over them, making you shiver in the process. He believes they are like pieces of art, just all over your body.

So in his mind, you are perfect. He is always going to love you, insecurity through and through. You are his lover.

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bunji-enthusiast · 4 months

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Run, Run Far Angel

Note || I am obligated as a fanfic author to write this, sue me. I got attached to DogDay, and he deserved better in Chapter 3.

WC || 2,070

<(You are here)><(sequel part)>

Sypnosis || An unlikely shortcoming of a friendly entity, or, You get a new friend in spite of this hellish factory.

The noise that had buzzed in the far reaches in the depths of your ears had annoyed you to no end, insistent to remain with you. So many times over had your guilt marred your sense of peace, your sense of futility. Whatever control you felt you had in your life was completely gone the moment you had come back to the accursed place known as Playtime Co. Toy Factory. So many unruly things had gone here, things done and said that left you chuckling–few that had left you with regrets.

Regrets that had stayed with you for well over ten years, since your co-workers had disappeared. You always had a sinking feeling you knew well what had happened to the last of them, your friends and those that you had come to consider family.

Then you fell into Playcare, a place once filled with laughter and joy, something of which was indescribable. To know the children here and being able to hear such joyful playing and sometimes the odd cry, it was fulfilling, now the whole Factory–every floor there was to know–was devoid of the very same life you’ve come to know and love all those years ago.

Now the only thing that had tormented your mind, as it always had been since you first arrived, was your fight or flight. Instinctive you were, but you hated every minute of having to run and hide away from the monster that had presided reign over their domain, on of which the very one you had to be stuck with was-

“Catnap?” You muttered, thumbing the scarred fur that was blotched with ashy spots, as if it were burned by fire.

The small recreational stuffed animal looked so adorable for the most part, yet it disturbed you greatly, guilt was predominant in mind and body. In all of your years you had remembered working at the Factory you don't ever recall the name of Catnap, the creepy elongated mouth had stood out to you the most.

He was hunting you, toying with you for sport. You couldn’t really understand why he hadn’t just gunned you for killing you at a moment's notice, though you felt a breath of relief that you could buy yourself time.

Supposedly some of this relief is partial to the fact that this Ollie kid was guiding you on where to go, with how dark this place was is absurd to you–so the guidance was appreciated. A voice had finally snapped you out of your ever consuming thoughts, it was terribly the truth.

“Hey are you alright? Just press that button and you’ll be through in no time! The small critters cant seem to get you from up there so you should be alright.” Ollie, yes Ollie that is the kids name. Who is this strange person anyway?

Unfortunately you weren’t in a position to worry about that right now, you simply pressed the button with the help of your grabpack. Trying to remember all the hands you had now with you was troublesome, but you manage.

‘I suppose.’ You wonder if there is anyone in this place that won’t actively be out for your head, truth be told.

Maybe that was a miracle in mind, as you walked through the desolate rubble the air seemed to desaturate, a mist once permeated with dread and the iron taste of blood seemed to float away as you came across a surprising display. Gruesome but something nobody should have to see or experience.

It seemed to be DogDay, you could've sworn coming across a cardboard cutout of the very same character earlier.

He seemed to be so.. Sad.

“You…you’re Poppy’s angel. Come to save us. Nothing left to save, not here…You’re in CatNap’s home, angel. Their home.” His voice was broken, forlorn, vocal cords riddled with experience he never wanted to relive again. You felt saddened on his behalf, no doubt the pain he is feeling right now is tremendous. For a moment, silence had filled the comfortable atmosphere rendering you with a small pit of anxiety balling within your gut.

Still you feel as if you had to speak, but you allow Dogday to have his part, that much you could try to do for him.

DogDay’s head lolled about as if he were a ragdoll, the effort to make movement was extraneous. “A million pairs of eyes are on you now. Watching, waiting, hungry. They want nothing more than to crawl beneath your skin and eat away at you bit by little bit - fill what feels empty inside themselves.” Those words sparked an ire of curiosity inside your trodden heart, you wanted to help him now.

You needed help, especially answers too. He was in pain, and you wanted to help him, so to ease your guilty conscience a little; hopefully in the process of gaining a friend at the same time. “Catnap.. Just, I don’t understand him.” DogDay raised his head, looking at you wistfully as if he had expected the aforementioned cat to be brought up.

DogDay winced as he moved, each little rattle sending painful vibrations throughout his body–the phantom legs hadn’t brought any peace to him whatsoever.

“That thing…CatNap. The Prototype is his God, and this is what he does to heretics.” His words carried an aura of ominous spiels, as if you were to heed this warning. “These little toys follow CatNap to avoid that very fate- and in return, they are fed.”

In their place, you would take measures to avoid such a fate too if you would. To a point, you could sympathize with the small toys, not being able to do anything and the teetering possibility of being killed always hanging over your head. Knowing that alone is unfathomably terrifying.

“Would explain why they were hunting me previously..” You murmur, now tucking that thought to the depths of your mind. Still you wanted to hear out DogDay, for he knew better of what had gone on here then you did. His head had shagged, fur ruffled and dangling about as he had squirmed slightly.

“We tried to fight it, the Prototype’s control. I’m…the last of the Smiling Critters.” His tune was mournful, his friends really had been killed right before his very eyes. Catnap’s gas, you remember it well enough.

You had to take a moment – articulate your words. You were completely filled to the brim with anxiety and alert, you remind yourself to not let down your guard in spite of being with someone who has no intention of wanting to kill you. “You had tried to escape, and he… knocked you out with his gas?”

DogDay’s brows creased, confirming your answer. You felt so terrible for him, causing you to be firmly set on a decision.

You were helping him get out of here, in no way shape or form did you feel he should be left behind in shambles like this. “This is probably going to sound, insane. But I’m gonna help you get outta here.” Dogday perked up at this, nodding his head no.

He certainly didn’t want you to die, especially not on his account.

“Angel that is not wise! I will slow you down.” He persists, “Listen to me, you need to get out of this place. You need to live. You and Poppy can fix this, end this madness, the torment–” You didn’t want him to change your mind, so as immediate as you were, You desperately grabbed at his arms.

Quickly and surely enough the small critter toys had began crawling toward DogDay, you certainly would not put up with that. You fired a flare gun at the small critters, as much as you could so you could buy time to get DogDay out of his chains.

It seemed Dogday had sensed your determination to want to help him in spite of his warings, even with how much he had tried to convince you to leave. “You are doing well Angel, keep them away from me.. I will do my best to free myself of these.” His voice felt strained, cut off with a cough as he wriggled free–even if every brittle bone in his body had begged him to just lay there and rest.

You thanked him silently, continuing to work away at the critters who were highly determined in their goal to possess DogDay and resume their chase to kill you. “I am free! Quickly now Angel, quickly.” He ushered you forward to run right away, you picked him up as soon as he had done so and heaved him over your shoulders with a heavy breath as a display of your efforts. To say he was surprised at your willful strength was an understatement, he silently applauded you for your strength to keep moving.

Though, it hadn’t removed any of his worry for you as you continued to run forward, your muscles straining to keep up with your mind. From what he can understand of humans anyway, you were exhausted, though he felt it wasn’t right to speak out on it anyway–safety first before talking.

“Almost there, Angel.. You just need to get to that elevator over there!” He jabbed his finger in the direction you needed to go, and you went on instinct with his direction. Your muscles ached and burned, but you could rest as soon as you reached the elevator, you couldn’t risk DogDay being left behind helpless with the small critters.

Speaking of which, they were still chasing you and your new companion. You wished they stopped, but you had considered an aforementioned thought, they only do this to ensure their fate wasn’t like his. Since then this has wildly changed.

You were close to the edge.

Then, you leaped, everything seemed to slow down. DogDay held on tightly, hands wrapped around your neck secured tight, to you it seemed comforting in the depths of your sudden despair.

You dropped right onto the metal plate, which luckily had railing. The door shut right behind you as DogDay had quickly made action to press the button to start up the elevator nor long after you had succeeded in jumping to the elevator. He slumped with a sigh, something you could very much agree with, sitting down with a thump following in your wake.

Truth be told, you weren’t sure of how much more you could take much more of this nightmare. You may just as well be in a very long dream, and you were just actually sleeping at home, but no way however as the exhaustion had finally settled into your bones.

Weary bones creaked about as DogDay made an effort to check over your slumped body, wanting to ensure you were not injured anywhere before he spoke, “Whatever questions you have..” He paused for a moment as if he were considering his words, something of which seemed to happen to a lot of people and toys alike in this Factory. “I will answer, rest for now first.”

DogDay was being his typical self, always so worried over someone else before considering his own health. His own legs being severed must be a great deal of pain, you wanted to ask him to rest too. Yet, you were too tired to respond, only nodding curtly as sleep had stolen you away from your awakened consciousness.

A genuine smile seems to relax DogDay’s expression, you sorely needed rest. He would help you get that rest, things to talk about and things to face would come later. “You have done impossible things, you have run far. Thank you.” He quietly spoke, curling up to cuddle you.

His head laid to rest on the crown of your head, hands and arms elongating ever so slightly to surround you in his warmth. DogDay was a leader, a friend, but he was also a good napping buddy. That much was certainly no lie to be told.

Silence seemed to fill his ears now, sleep was creeping up to DogDay as well. Ah, he cannot sleep right now. You were in his care and vulnerable, especially considering you had gone through the trouble of freeing him.

To those tormented, the madness had enraged man and toy, you were their saving graces. Someone they could get behind, without the utmost support where would you be now?

“Night has fallen, but for you I will do my absolute best to help you, Angel.”

#poppy playtime #dogday #dogday poppy playtime #x reader #purely platonic #I like how he calls the player angel #it’s cute :D

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holybibly · 3 months

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I think my brain refuses to accept anyone else but Seonghwa today. Sorry not sorry, bunnies, but if I suffer, you'll suffer too.

These are my unholy thoughts.

You've been an Ateez fan for a long time, so when you got the chance to go to their concert, even with VIP passes, you went crazy. God, to be able to see Ateez in real life—isn't that a dream come true?

You had a liking for all of the members—well, maybe not all of them. Seonghwa, you just weren't interested in him; you didn't really understand all the hype around him, and he wasn't really your type on the outside.

The sound check went well, and then you had the opportunity to have a quick chat with the members before the start of the show. You literally melted under Hongjoong's gaze, almost flowing across the floor and shining like the damn sun just from Yeosang smiling at you. The boy was an angel; you could see the divine light that was in his surroundings. San was such a gentleman, and Woo was so playful and full of fun. God, the way Mingi said your name in that deep voice of his took your breath away, and Jongho was so adorable you couldn't help but want to kiss his soft cheeks. Need I mention how gorgeous Yunho's hands were? He could literally wrap his whole arm around your neck.

And then there was Seonghwa, of course. You greeted him politely but were happy to escape his dark, feline gaze whenever you had the chance. He was... Intense and his presence beside you sent a shiver down your spine.

It would be an understatement to say that this drove Seonghwa crazy. The blood in his veins was literally boiling with rage.

"How dare you disregard him! He's a fucking Park Seonghwa."

But Seonghwa was determined that by the end of the concert, you would be drooling and your juices running down your thighs just looking at him, and damn, the boy did his best.

The fans went crazy, literally swooning over his sexy moves, demonic charisma, and, of course, his tongue. Seonghwa was even moving his hips a hundred times harder than usual, but you... you didn't even look in his direction; you were completely captivated by San and his damn dimpled smile. Seonghwa wasn't jealous. No, of course he wasn't. He is Park Seonghwa. He is the epitome of sexiness and greatness, and you didn't care about him. He hated you like hell.

For you, the concert was just great; you enjoyed every second of it, had a lot of fun, and seemed to have completely lost your mind over San. God, the man was literally a wet dream. All in all, you could say that your night had been a meaningful and joyful one, but Seonghwa was left with a bad taste in his mouth after you had left. When you met for the second time that day, this time for a sweet farewell, you didn't even approach him. You just turned towards him and bowed formally as a farewell.

You did fucking bow. As he watched Wooyoung shamelessly spin you around in his arms, his sensual, plump lips curled in disgust. A bit more, and his hands would have been on your buttocks in a kneading motion. Seonghwa didn't want his hands to touch your soft, plump flesh at all. And he didn't stare at your tits at all, which literally bounced with every move you made and made Yeosang's cheeks blush. He was a second away from the words to them:

"Go ahead, fuck her right here; don't mind me."

But it all ended as quickly as it had begun. Now you are leaving with the rest of the VIP fans, taking Seonghwa's interest in you with you.

Even the day after the concert Seonghwa couldn't stop thinking about you, you just wouldn't let him go. He needed to relax, clear his mind and forget about the stupid fan who didn't even understand her own happiness. He looked at you, maybe he even could fucked you, and you just kept on staring at San's damn dimples.

Seonghwa was literally seeing red.

So he had recourse to his favourite form of relaxation - dancing. And let's just say: Park Seonghwa had a very creative approach when it came to relaxing.

This club was not a big one, and it was certainly not known to the general public. It was very private, and it was by invitation only, which was more difficult to get hold of than tickets for a BTS concert. It made you feel very privileged, like royalty.

In the last few days, your life couldn't have been better. Yesterday you had an Ateez concert, and today a private strip club that was completely inaccessible to ordinary people—hell, not even all the rich and famous could be on the guest list. But you were. And you couldn't be more grateful to your friend, who was fucking the owner. Pussy power, as they call it.

The evening passed under a soft, sexy bass, and the alcohol consumption heightened the senses. Your inhibitions became more and more vague, which is why you didn't even think twice before you agreed to a lap dance with a super-elite and fucking unrealistic stripper. You didn't know what to expect when your friend laughed and pushed you into the small room, giggling and saying, "Have fun."

Waiting for the show to begin, you slowly sat down on the soft plush couch in front of the small stage. Before you entered the room, your friend pushed some papers into your hands, something about confidentiality or security. You still didn't understand it; your brain was foggy from all the cocktails you had drunk, but you signed everything they told you.

The lights dimmed and a sensual, slow bass filled the room. God, you have to fuck with music like that. Your eyes were fixed on the tall, lithe figure, surrounded by shadows, as he bent down around the pole. It was a man, and you had to say it was incredibly handsome, even though you had not yet seen his face, but you were sure of it.

His legs were long and slender, his hips swaying vulgarly as he fucked the air, and that slutty waist... Your mouth was in drool.

He made a few more turns around the pole, sliding down the length of it and arching his plump ass. And then, at last, you saw his face, and you froze like a deer caught in the headlights, your mouth opening and closing helplessly in a complete stupor.

With cat-like eyes, sharp cheek bones, and full, wet lips, the man standing in front of you was none other than Park Seonghwa.

When Seonghwa met the gaze of his 'client', he stopped breathing for a second. It was you, the girl, because of which he had come here today. He was supposed to point out that you looked damn sexy, all petite, curvy, and voluptuous in a tight, shiny sequin dress. It showed off your luscious big tits and sweet thighs. Seonghwa's teeth ached with the desire to bite when he saw the naked skin untouched by the sun.

You were so stunned that you didn't even notice the idol who was standing in front of you until his fingers had wrapped themselves around your chin.

"Isn't this my luck, kitten, hmm?" Seonghwa asked you as he stroked the side of your cheek with his thumb.

"I-I even..." But as Seonghwa straddled you with ease and rolled his hips sensually against you, all words died on your tongue. His tall figure towered over you, and in the purple light, he looked like a real demon who had come to take your soul away from you.

As he tilted your head back so that you looked into his eyes, his long fingers ran through your hair, tugging hard at the strands.

When he spoke, it was in a deep, sexy, angry voice.

"I'm going to teach you some respect, kitten. When I'm done with you, you'll know better than to ignore your mommy."

And Seonghwa meant every word, bending down to plant a harsh kiss on your soft, supple lips.

Yesterday's concert may have been great. But Seonghwa is going to give you a private show that will be a million times better.

#ateez smut #kpop smut #atz smut #ateez hard hours #ateez unholy hours #smut #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa smut #park seonghwa smut #ateez scenarios #ateez au #ateez x reader

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joelscruff · 10 months

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feelings on fire (joel miller x f!reader) 18+ PART 8.5 (JOEL'S POV)

previous chapters | so after the last chapter there were SO many people who really wanted to understand joel's actions, and i thought instead of him simply explaining to reader what happened, why don't i just write a chapter entirely from his point of view instead? hopefully this answers some questions, enjoy! and here's my kofi if you'd like to leave a tip 💕 chapter summary: you're not the only one who has a busy weekend ahead of them. one text changes the trajectory of joel's relationship with you - for better or worse. (this is essentially chapter seven and eight from joel's pov) rating: 18+ explicit warnings for this chapter: age difference (joel is in his 50s, reader is in her early 20s), innocent/inexperienced reader, discussions of child abandonment, mental health & cheating, alcohol, allusions to past sexual encounters between joel and his ex, brief flashbacks to smut from previous chapters word count: 13k ao3

He thinks about you so much more often than he should.

Your soft skin, your smile, your eyes, your hair, your little giggles, your shy and breathless whimpers.... your body, pliant and sweet beneath his touch, open and willing and waiting.

You're so perfect. You're so young.

He's never been with someone so much younger than him before. He's not sure you realize that. But that day on his doorstep when you'd wandered down the sidewalk looking like a bit of a lost puppy, that little frown line prominent between your eyebrows that he's come to adore, something clicked. You brought out a side of him he'd long since buried; he knew he had to have you. He just knew. Could feel it in the pit of his stomach when those gorgeous eyes had come to rest on him. Wide and innocent and sad. Something he saw there that made him pause.

He'd have had you that day if you'd let him, a fact that he's still grappling with. Long gone are the days where he'd meet a woman and take her home within a twenty four hour span - long gone are the days where he's so much as been interested in a woman he didn't know well enough, someone safe and secure and familiar. But he hoped you'd be back, almost knew you would, could see it in the way you shivered under his gaze, the way your eyes lingered on his face, on his fingers. He hadn't felt like being charming in a long time; he'd genuinely surprised himself with the flirtatious comments, the sly smiles, double meanings. But he couldn't help himself.

He'd wanted you so bad. The moment you'd disappeared down the street he'd gotten in the shower and fucked his fist for only a few minutes before coming all over the tiled wall at the very thought of you. He didn't even know your name but had already memorized the curves of your body, the shape of your lips, the smell of your skin when he'd gotten close enough. He'd practically limped back to his bedroom and collapsed on the bed in a heap, staring up at the ceiling with nothing but shock and confusion. Where the fuck had that come from?

He's such a dirty old man.

Old being the operative word. He turns fifty seven in a few months and the thought makes him feel physically ill. It's not that he necessarily hates the thought of getting older, of being one step closer to knocking on death's door, but more-so the fact that he's almost fifty seven and has almost nothing to show for it. His life is a mess, has been a mess for as long as he can remember.

But now... you.

You... full of life and eagerness and kindness. A soft and gentle angel in his bed, on his couch, in his kitchen. So shy and quiet, telling him what you think about, what you worry about. Letting him whisper the filthiest things in your ear while you whimper and moan, letting him touch you the way you deserve to be touched, the way you've never been touched before.

You bring something out in him he can't explain. He'd invited you inside that first day looking for a quick fuck and he admits it was a moment of weakness, the whole thing. He knows Sarah and Mish would kill him for even considering treating you that way, like an object, something to be conquered. The past version of himself who briefly felt that way about you makes him angry now.

Because now he really wants you. Not just a fuck - he wants you. He thinks about you all the fucking time and it scares the shit out of him. What started as something dirty and frivolous quickly turned into something tender and sweet the moment you told him you were a virgin, and he doesn't know how to handle it. You're so fucking lovely but so fucking sad and unsure, full of apprehension, regrets, insecurities, things he sees in himself. You remind him so much of himself at that age and he just wants to take care of you, be the person for you that he didn't have.

But you're so fucking young.

He tries to push the feelings down. He's purposely distant to you, especially during the week. You send him sweet little messages, tell him about your day, ask him about his. He stares at them for so long without answering them, and when he does answer his replies are short and vague. Because how can he say what he really wants to say? I think about you so much, angel. I want you to be mine. I don't want you to chase after any college boys or have any college boys chasin' after you. I wanna be your first and I wanna be your only.

How can he put you in that position? You're having fun, you're learning things, but there's absolutely no way you see any sort of future with him. The fact that he can already see one with you is the biggest red flag in itself - what the fuck is wrong with him?

But you're just so fucking sweet. So lovely. So gorgeous. He wants you in his bed and he wants you to stay there. He knows he'll be the first person to ever fuck you and that thought is enough to keep him going, yet he can't help but want more. But it's so selfish - you're young and bright-eyed and pretty and perfect, the promise of an incredible future ahead of you. And he's just... him.

He's old. He's grumpy. He's washed up. Became a father in high school. Got married. Got divorced. Has had more failed relationships than successful ones. Has been working the same job since he was twenty years old, a job he fucking hates. Loathes it with his entire being. Still doing the same work for the majority of his life with almost no breaks, no stops. He knows he should retire, should have done it years ago, but he's afraid.

He's always been fucking terrified of change. Earlier this year he'd moved into a new neighborhood. He'd gotten sick of the house he'd once shared with Mish, then Mish and Sarah, then just Sarah - the one she'd lived in sporadically 'til she was twenty six and finally felt financially stable enough to go out on her own. He'd stayed there about ten more years out of convenience, had another failed relationship with a woman who deserved far better than what he could give her, then finally pulled the plug and got something new for himself a few hours away, hoping it'd change his perspective. He'd picked a place with privacy, good acoustics, thought maybe he'd play his guitar more - focus on his music and slowly phase himself out of the contracting business.

But months later, he's still working it. The thought of being unemployed after working this hard his entire life, just ending up sad and alone in this new house, still not even properly furnished or decorated, makes him want to throw up. What the fuck would he do with all that free time? He's always wondered exactly how he'd spend it, how life could be enjoyable without the structure of his livelihood, but then he shakes it off and just keeps going because he knows the alternative has to be worse. But now... you.

You - who if you truly knew what a fucking failure he is, the boring bag of bones he pretends he's not when he's with you - would leave his bed and never come back.

You - who if you found out about his ex wife, his daughter, both of whom live adventurous and exciting lives while he's done nothing but stay still in the comforts of familiarity - would probably find him beyond pathetic.

You - who can do so much better.

He just knows that it can't last.

He gets the text from Sarah on Wednesday morning:

Hey Dad!! Me and Mom are doing our annual road trip, thought we'd stop down there for a bit and have a look at your new house!!

He tries not to notice the excitement of seeing his daughter being slightly dulled by the promise of being accompanied by her mother. In a way it makes him sad, because he loves Mish, has loved her since he was seventeen years old. He cares deeply about her and has always wanted nothing but the best for her, has always enjoyed her visits in the past - for more than one reason. But now...

No. He has to shake the thought away before he freaks himself out.

Kiddo!!!! That's exciting, when were you thinkin?

We'll be there by Friday afternoon!! Sorry for the short notice but we weren't sure if it'd be possible til today. We're actually trying to stick to a schedule this time believe it or not.

That's ok, you know it doesn't matter to me. Wanna see you any time. Miss you a lot.

Aw Dad I miss you too, I can't wait to see you!!! We'll text when we're getting close. Gonna check into a motel that night and we'll be leaving again the next morning, gotta stay on track.

He almost offers his guest room. Almost. But then thinks better of it.

Sounds good kiddo, see you then :)

Mish texts him later that afternoon. He'd been expecting it, knew she would want to double check that the visit was alright, but her name popping up in his notifications sends a jab of anxiety to the pit of his stomach. It's one thing for Sarah to visit on her own, but both of them together always adds a... different layer to the situation. A layer that needs addressing. A layer that he'd usually have more than a little excitement for, some anticipation - but not this time.

Sarah's got me roadtrippin again

She loves to make you suffer.

Don't I know it

He can't help but chuckle to himself, but his smile fades quickly as soon as the next message comes in:

Gonna be stopping by on Friday. You good for our usual?

He stalls.

Thought you were still with Elvis.

ALVIN. And no that's over

Sorry about that.

Like hell you are

He purposely doesn't answer her question, and she doesn't send anything else. The anxiety doesn't go away though - it spreads throughout his body until he's an absolute mess, shaky hands and ringing ears at the job site as he tries to stay focused, but ultimately fails to. His crew flits here and there around him without much direction and they end up going overtime, leading to an angry call from the boss, a call that leaves his hands clenched into fists by the time he gets to the bar with the crew. Fuck. This. Job.

He drinks too much, tries to calm himself, keep his thoughts steady. He pretends he doesn't know why he's feeling like this, pushes down all the reasons he wishes Sarah was traveling by herself this time. But deep down, he knows.

He gets a ride home with one of his buddies, limbs aching in a way that they haven't for a while. He always has days like this, days where the physical labor catches up to his aging body and reminds him that he really shouldn't be doing this job anymore, but somehow it's worse this time; the mental load from Mish's texts are giving him a discomfort he can't really describe.

He remembers only as he crosses the threshold that he promised he'd call you. Shit.

He does, but he can't remember much of what he said the next morning, only that he vented a bit. He hopes with every bone in his body that he didn't mention Mish, that his complaints focused solely on work.

Your texts that afternoon from the church bathroom prove this to be the case, and he breathes a sigh of relief when you agree to come see him that night. He knows he'll feel calm in your company, that the anxiety will ebb away in your presence.

He tries not to think about the implications of that.

God, he's fucked.

You had a horrible day.

You show up on his doorstep with tears shining in your eyes and that soft little line furrowed deep between your brows, the line he adores, wants to smooth with his thumb. He pulls you in close and breathes you in and finds that the anxiety, the worry, the uncertainty, all of it disappears in your embrace. You tell him you don't want to do anything, just want to be with him.

You have no idea how much it means to hear you say that to him.

He lays you in his bed and holds you for a while, listens as you tell him about what happened, confide in him. You tell him more about your upbringing and your family, your school years and friends, the pressure and scrutiny you've felt suffocated by your whole life. And god if you're not describing him. You have no idea how fucking similar the two of you are, how much he wants to wrap you up and protect you from the world and from all the people who threaten to dull the light in your eyes. Don't become like me, he wants to whisper, you deserve so much better.

He could listen to you talk for hours. That soft voice lulls him into a state of nirvana he's never experienced, body practically going numb with how in tune it is with your words, like he's become some kind of plant absorbing all your emotions, thoughts, feelings, as you bare yourself to him. You're so lovely. Please never stop talking.

It all culminates in the removal of your crucifix. He barely even thinks about it, just knows exactly what he has to do to calm you, to make you feel better, to steal back some of those worries from you and lock them away for a little bit where they can't hurt you. It's the least he can do. He wants to do it.

It's a gesture he doesn't fully realize the importance of, the magnitude - not yet, anyway.

He backtracks while you shower. It's just sex. This is not going any further than you showing her how it's done, preparing her for the real world, for the future men who actually stand a chance with her. The thought makes him dig his nails deep into his duvet as he settles under the sheets and takes a deep breath. She's not yours. She doesn't want you the way she thinks she does. She doesn't know the real you.

He can't help but picture you in his shower, standing naked under the hot water, in the exact spot he's gotten himself off to your very image. His dick twitches in his pajama pants and he has to adjust himself, cursing softly at his dirty thoughts and reminding himself that nothing is happening tonight, that you don't want to. He's not even disappointed, doesn't care that the sexting from earlier isn't coming to fruition tonight; just laying with you is enough for him. And he hates himself because he knows exactly what that means.

His phone vibrates while he's waiting and he picks it up from the nightstand - a text from Sarah:

Gettin closer! We should be there tomorrow, probably late afternoon. Do you work Fridays?

Yep, he wants to say, Monday to Friday, every week of my entire life since before you were born, but of course he doesn't. Would never.

I do but I'll be back around 5:30 or so. I'll give you a call when I'm home.

Sounds good!!!

Also:

An image comes in and he taps it, squinting his eyes to figure out exactly what he's looking at. He can make out Sarah and Mish sitting atop some statue of a bull they must have encountered outside a gas station. Sarah's arm is thrown back as she poses with her signature killer smile, while Mish grips the bullhorns and sticks her tongue out, braids peeking out from under a cowboy hat. There's something about it that's familiar, something he can't quite place as his eyes strain without the aid of his glasses - the ones he never wears. He pushes his phone away from his eyes, brings it back and hopes to bring the image into focus a little bit.

Oh. It's his hat.

And fuck, if he doesn't know how that makes him feel.

"You need glasses," he hears you say softly, and he looks up from the image of his daughter and ex wife to see you standing at the edge of the bed, clad in nothing but a towel.

He locks his phone and hopes you weren't standing there too long.

He doesn't know how to tell you that he won't be able to see you tonight.

He spends the morning in complete and utter bliss, waking up to your bashful request to give him a blowjob. You're so fucking sweet, even when asking for something so filthy. Your mouth is soft and warm around his cock and he feels like he's died and gone to heaven, wants desperately to spill inside and watch you swallow but knows it's not the right time, not yet.

He wonders what your face would look like covered in his come.

Dirty. Old. Man.

You burn his breakfast and furiously apologize, cursing under your breath as you soak the freshly burnt pan under the faucet and frown at your failure. But he doesn't view it as a failure; for him it's just another thing to add to the mental list of reasons he thinks you're adorable.

You ride his thigh. He makes you come, the most beautiful little sounds escaping your lips as you ride it out. He loves how that little worry line between your brows always returns when he's making you feel good, like he really is taking some of that worry away and replacing it with pleasure. He only wants to see that line when he's making you come. He never wants to see you sad again like you'd been last night, just wants to hold you in his arms and protect you from the world.

But then it's time to go and he still hasn't told you about tonight. He does not want to lie to you. He refuses to. But what else can he say? Just that he'll be out late? What if you ask him why? And god, it's not like he's gonna do anything. He's not gonna entertain Mish's offer, not this time. He shouldn't. He won't.

You save him the trouble. Your friend from college is visiting, a girl named Tasha - she's taking you out for the first time ever. He supposes that makes things much easier; no explaining or giving excuses, no revealing things he's not ready to reveal. He dodged a bullet.

Right?

So why does he still feel like such a prick?

He gets home from work and calls Sarah, just like he said he would. He only has a short window of time to do a bit of sprucing - fluff the couch pillows a bit, do a quick wipe down of the bathroom - before the doorbell is ringing and he's jogging to the door with excitement coursing through his veins. The anxiety has dulled at the mere promise of seeing his daughter on the other side of that door.

"DAD!" she squeals excitedly as he thrusts it open, and he's immediately enveloped in the warmth of Sarah's embrace, sweet and familiar.

"Kiddo," he breathes into her hair, feeling tears prick in his eyes like they always do, "Missed ya."

"Missed you too," she says into his shoulder, muffled and quiet, "So much, Dad, you have no idea."

They have their moment together, eyes closed as they sway on the spot and smile tearfully - it's been almost a year since her last visit. It didn't used to feel as palpable, those long periods of time between seeing each other, but as he's gotten older he finds that he misses her a lot; his little pal, not so little anymore. Thirty eight now, a full blown woman with a loving husband and a freshly solid career as an author, the life he always wanted for her.

"How're things?" he asks softly, "You doin' okay? Need any money?"

She laughs, "Things are good. I'm good, I promise."

"How's Jude, he good?"

"He's great, and the book's been doin' really well."

"I'm so happy to hear that, kiddo, really. Happy for both of you."

"Thanks, Dad," she murmurs, sniffling a little bit, "Couldn't have done it without you, hope you know that."

And then she's pulling away, wiping the tears from her eyes and waving to the purple convertible behind her, gesturing for Mish to get out of the car.

Here we go.

She steps out and god, she's gorgeous. Age has done nothing but enhance her beauty. She's never not been the most stunning woman in a room, soft skin a glowing deep umber, supple long legs and playful smile and those dark brown - almost black - eyes that practically sparkle when she looks at him. Like the way she's looking at him now... fuck.

"Hey," she says with a sly grin, shutting the car door behind her and making her way up the front steps.

"Hey," he echoes back, "How was the drive?"

"Long," she groans, reaching him and going in for a hug. It's nowhere near as long or as intimate as Sarah's, but the feeling of her body against his feels just as familiar and comforting. It's so easy to fall back into their rhythm. Too easy. "You been good?" she asks as they part.

He nods quickly, "Yeah, you?"

"Can't complain," she replies with a smile.

"Oh please," Sarah scoffs beside her, "All you've done is complain," she looks to Joel with a grimace, "Alvin's out of the picture."

"Sarah," Mish admonishes quickly, brows narrowing.

"Yeah, I heard somethin' about that," he says, scratching the back of his head awkwardly, "Uh - that's too bad, Mish. He was, um... he was a good guy."

"No, he wasn't," she sighs, rolling her eyes and giving Sarah another look, "But that's a conversation for another time, right?"

Sarah puts her hands up in defense, "Sorry, sorry, my bad. We've been in the car too fuckin' long," she peeks past him with a curious expression on her face, "Can we come in? I wanna see your new house."

He shows them around, though there's not much to see, something which Mish points out almost immediately.

"Where's the character?" she asks, raising an eyebrow as she assesses the living room, "Like where's your stuff, Joel?"

"There's not even pictures of us anywhere," Sarah adds with a frown, scanning one of the bookshelves, "It's like we don't even exist."

He grimaces, hands on his hips, "I know, I'm sorry. I still have a few boxes up in the guest room but," he sighs, "You know me, I hate gettin' emotional over shit from the past. And half those boxes got your old school stuff, and-"

"Your Dad's a sentimental guy," Mish interjects with a soft smile, giving him those eyes again, "It's okay, we'll unpack 'em for you."

He scoffs, "We ain't got time for that, Mish."

"I always have time to be sentimental," her smile grows wider and she throws him a wink - his heart stutters.

"Well I always have time for a movie marathon," Sarah suddenly says, turning from the shelves with an array of DVDs in her hands, "Whaddaya say, Dad? Curtis and Viper? After the bar?"

He cocks an eyebrow, "The bar?"

"Oh? Didn't you hear? We're takin' you out, cowboy," Mish says with a smirk, "Or - I guess you're takin' us out. Whatever, either way we're goin' for dinner and drinks like the well adjusted wholesome family we are."

"And then we're gonna eat too much junk food and pass out on the couch like the good old days," Sarah adds, tossing the DVDs onto the coffee table, "Miller family fun."

"And do I get any say in this?"

They both turn to him at the same time with almost the same expression on their faces, and he knows he's already lost.

He wouldn't have it any other way.

They have dinner at their favorite chain, practically inhale their burgers and fries as Sarah and Mish catch Joel up on the trip so far, where they've been, what they've seen. He's grateful that the conversation is still on them by the time they get the check and start heading to the bar; he really doesn't want to answer any questions about himself tonight unless he has to.

The bar is louder than usual, much more packed than he's ever seen it. He grumbles this to Sarah and Mish but they just roll their eyes and order their drinks, cozying up together on their barstools and laughing hysterically over things that certainly aren't that funny. They're exhausted from their road trip and he can tell, tries to urge them to head back to the house after about fifteen minutes of being at the bar, but they resist.

"I like this place better than your old joint," Mish calls to him over the chatter, "Smells better too."

"Am I supposed to say thank you?" he calls back with a grin, and she just rolls her eyes and orders him another whiskey.

They don't stay too long, just enough for the girls to get their fill and toss back a few beers, continuing to tell Joel about their trip. Sarah scrolls through the pictures on her phone and shows him the tourist traps, the stops they've made here and there, the food they've eaten. Mish chimes in every so often to add her own anecdotes, bouncing off Sarah's stories naturally like she always has.

He loves how easy it feels to be with them, how comfortable, how safe. He's missed them so much. He wishes things could just stay like this for the rest of the night, simple and light, but every so often he catches Mish looking at him from under her lashes, those dark eyes searching his for something in particular, and he remembers there's still something they haven't addressed.

"Oh my god, Mom," Sarah suddenly says with wide eyes, pointing toward the front of the bar, "Do you see that girl's hat?"

"Where?"

"Those girls over there, look at that purple cowboy hat. Fuuuck, we should be wearing ours!"

Joel rolls his eyes, not bothering to look in the direction Sarah's pointing to and instead focusing on his whiskey, trying to think of ways he can get them out of this bar. Curtis & Viper is suddenly calling his name.

"They're still in the car if you wanna grab 'em," Mish says with a laugh, tossing Sarah the keys, "If you can walk straight."

"Oh please, I've had one beer. We're not all lightweights in this family, ya know," she presses a kiss to her mother's cheek before sliding past to head back to the front of the bar.

"Well, now that we have a moment alone..." she leans forward a bit on her elbow, hand cupping her chin as she tilts her head, "You didn't answer my question the other day, cowboy."

Here it is, the conversation he's been dreading, the one thing he's been putting off talking about the most. And why has he been dreading it? Why has he been filled with so much discomfort and anxiety at the thought of telling Mish that even though he's technically single, he can't be with her this time? It's not like she'd be angry with him, like she'd misunderstand or throw a fit over it. So why can't he just say it?

He knows why. It's because he doesn't want to tell Mish about you. It's because the second he says no, she'll see right through him; she'll know. She'll know immediately that there's somebody else, and she'll clock his feelings - the feelings he's been forcing himself to bury - and then he'll have to confront them, what they really mean.

And as usual, he's terrified.

He plays dumb, "What question?"

She inches the stool forward with a smirk, eyeing him pointedly as he feels her bare leg touch his jeans, slowly drifting up and down along his calf. Fuck. She tilts her head, eyes falling to his lips and then going back up to meet his gaze.

"Playin' coy, are we?" she asks softly, "Need me to say it out loud, huh?"

He feels goosebumps rise all over his arms at the sound of her voice like that, low and sultry; it's the voice she reserves just for these private moments together, fully aware of the effect she has over him.

"You gonna fuck me, cowboy?" she continues, eyes falling to his lips again, "Huh? You been missin' me in your bed?"

Fuck.

He doesn't say anything, just watches as her face moves a little closer to his, the hint of his favorite sly smile puling at the corner of her mouth. She assesses him quietly, gaze raking over his features.

"You're shy tonight, aren't you?" she says, fluttering her lashes, "You need me to take care of you, baby boy? You need your mommy?"

Only Mish could get away with saying something like that to him. He can't help but let a grin cross his own face as he shakes his head at the words, feeling his cheeks flush. He's still unsure what to say, what to think, how to feel. Under any other circumstance they would already be fucking in a bathroom stall at this point, and in a few seconds she's gonna realize that and wonder why the fuck he won't give in.

She kisses him then. Softly.

And it's right. It's so fucking right in all the ways it's always been. Her mouth is warm, lips plump and wet and sweet against his, capturing his bottom lip between hers in that seductive fashion she's oh so good at. Without any thought, as if on instinct, his hand comes up to cup her face, holding her there for a moment as he breathes her in. He realizes how easy it would be to just fall back into this rhythm, this old habit they've been indulging themselves in for years. It just feels so right.

But it's also so fucking wrong.

It's wrong. It's so wrong. This is not the mouth he wants to be kissing. For years, he's always found comfort and safety in Mish's kiss, never once felt like what they were doing was incorrect or some kind of mistake. But now it's like every fiber of his being is telling him to stop. To pull away. To end this as soon as possible.

So he does.

He takes a deep breath as they separate, pulls back from her on his stool a bit and takes another sip of whiskey. No, this can't happen. It's not going to happen. But he's gonna have to tell her that, otherwise she'll take the next step and he's not sure he'll be able to reign it in after that. The thought of her naked body underneath him in his bed is admittedly a tantalizing offer, the thought of being inside her again after so many years apart...

But she won't be the first naked woman in that bed. In that house. Someone else has already staked their claim, regardless of whether what he shares with you is real or not. And that thought is what pulls him out of it.

"Sarah's right," he says with a smile, "You are a lightweight."

She cocks her brow, "You think I'm drunk?"

He chuckles and takes another sip, "I think you're only here for one night and we should be spendin' that one night with our daughter."

She doesn't say anything for a second, just watches him thoughtfully until he finally meets her gaze again.

"Joel Miller, are you gettin' laid?"

He almost chokes on his whiskey, unable to stop himself from snorting as he shakes his head and peers at her with that fond look he's always given her, the one that lets her know that despite everything, he fucking adores her. She leans a bit closer, tilting her head a bit more with intrigue.

"Seriously, you seein' anyone?" she seems genuinely interested, eyes alight with curiosity, "You got someone new?"

Before he can say anything - before he even really knows what to say - Sarah has reappeared at the bar, hats in hand. He looks down at them and raises an eyebrow as Mish grabs hers, or rather his, the ratty old brown one he used to wear sometimes in the eighties. She grins and winks as if to say yeah, I stole it, so what?

"Okay well, purple cowboy hat girl is currently holding her friend's hair while she throws up on the sidewalk," Sarah sighs, placing her own atop her head.

Joel and Mish groan simultaneously, "Been there," they both say at the same time, catching each other's eye before Joel turns his attention back to his drink, almost gone now. She doesn't ask him anything else, but he knows this conversation is far from over.

Sarah drops them off at his place, promising to be back in a bit with the much anticipated junk food - no point in them all going together. Joel almost tells her not to go, his heart in his throat as he and Mish climb out of the car. He can't believe how desperate he suddenly is to not be alone with her. But he can't bring himself to say anything.

Coward.

She walks into the house first, almost like she's leading him into the lion's den. There's no escaping her questions now, no more running away from the inevitable. He has to tell her before it's too late. The front door closes behind them and they stand frozen for a moment, not speaking, not even really looking at each other. He could cut the tension with a knife.

"So how 'bout showin' me those boxes?" she finally asks, turning to give him a smile.

They make their way up the stairs to the guest room, Joel's anxiety reaching new levels when they pass by his bedroom. He not so subtly grabs the knob and pulls the door closed, tries to pretend he doesn't notice Mish eyeing him as he does it.

The guest room is still pretty bare bones, only a bed and dresser occupying the space, along with about half a dozen cardboard boxes. He's been meaning to do it up for when Sarah comes to stay, do some decorating, but he's never been good at that kind of stuff - Mish and Sarah were always the creative ones.

They crouch on the floor together and Joel watches as Mish pops open the first box, digging her hand inside and immediately coming out with a framed photo of Sarah's kindergarten graduation.

"Aw, look," she murmurs, thumbing the glass lightly and turning it toward him, "Little bean."

"She was so excited you came," he says with a smile, "It was all she talked about for months."

Mish smiles back sadly, eyeing the photograph one more time before placing it on the floor. She reaches in again and comes out with another framed photo, this one of an even younger Sarah being pushed on a swing by Joel. She's probably almost two, chubby legs poking out through the holes of the swing as she giggles in wonder, Joel standing behind, squinting against the sun.

"I've always loved this one," she says quietly, showing it to him, "Always wanted a copy to keep."

"We can make that happen," he takes it from her and looks down at it himself, feeling a mixture of emotions flutter in his heart at his much younger self - freshly twenty - pushing his little girl. He'd been on his own for a while at that point; he can see the tiredness in his expression, the loneliness.

"Still mad I missed all that," she murmurs, sitting back on her heels and sighing deeply, "Hate myself so much sometimes."

He's not sure what to say, just puts the picture back down and reaches in for another one - Sarah's high school graduation this time. It's a backyard photo, one taken at the barbecue they'd had with about thirty people all crammed into one frame. There are smiles all around, beer bottles raised, and Sarah in the center wearing that beautiful purple dress she'd spent almost a year working on. Mish and Joel stand on either side of her, frozen in a moment of laughter.

What the camera didn't catch was that behind that purple dress, they were holding hands.

"What a party that was, huh?" Mish glances up at him from under her lashes, those dark eyes sparkling with nostalgia, "You remember?"

He smiles softly, "I remember."

The arrangement started in '03.

They hadn't seen each other in about three years when she showed up on his doorstep in the summer of '96. She'd been in and out of their lives before then, usually called every other week to check in and talk to Sarah but rarely ever showed her face. Sarah barely knew her but had a love for her that burned so deep that Joel couldn't say half the things he wanted to. Couldn't tell his daughter that her mother was unpredictable and unreliable, that she'd disappeared for almost two years after Sarah had been born, hadn't checked in once, had only begun to show up again in 1988 when Sarah was almost three. And then one day the calls just stopped coming and he had no other choice but to tell her the truth. She was only eight.

Mish showing up again out of the blue when Sarah was eleven was not something they could have ever predicted. He was angry. She was sorry. She'd been to a facility, had been seeing a psychiatrist and a therapist for a solid chunk of time and was on medication. Sarah slapped her across the face and sprinted barefoot down the street until her toes were bloody and she couldn't run anymore. Joel found her and cradled her in his arms like he'd done when she was a baby, promised he'd make Mish go away if that's what Sarah wanted.

It was not what she wanted. She wanted a mom. She wanted her mom. She wanted them to be together.

After that, all they could do was try and heal.

And Mish tried. She did. She was ready. Joel was willing to listen. Sarah forgave, slowly. By Christmas of '97 they were living together again. They'd put their wedding rings back on.

But it couldn't last.

"Maybe this just isn't meant to work," she'd whispered to him tearfully on their back patio on a rainy day in March of '98, head in her hands, "I'm better in some ways but worse in others. I'm not meant for this kinda life, Joel. I just can't stay still anymore."

"Maybe we aren't meant to work," he'd told her firmly, "But Sarah needs you, Michelle. You can't just keep coming back into her life and then disappearing. If you do, you're never gonna see her again."

"I know," she'd whispered, quiet and scared, "I know, Joel. And I won't, I'll never do that to her ever again. But I just..." she'd hung her head, tears streaming down her face, "I just don't know what to do."

He'd suddenly felt a flash of deja vu, a reminder of a moment similar to this one twelve years earlier, when he'd held her just like this while she'd cried in his arms, hopelessness raking through both their trembling forms in the downpour.

"They'll kill me, Joel. They're gonna kill me. How am I supposed to be a mom? This can't be real. This isn't happening. What are we gonna do?"

"I don't know, Mish. But I'm with you, okay? I'm not goin' anywhere. You got me. I don't care what they think, what they wanna do. It's just you and me, you hear me?"

"You and me, Joel. Just you and me."

She left Joel and the life they'd cultivated in the year since she came back, but she didn't leave Sarah, not this time. She kept up with regular visits, called often, tried her best to be a mother in the only ways she knew how. Eventually Joel stopped worrying she'd disappear again, and she didn't. Sarah and Mish's relationship wasn't an easy one, especially during those first few years of being reconnected, but eventually they were mother and daughter again. The way it always should have been. They'd go on adventures together, road trips and concerts and trips to amusement parks, everything they could to make up for lost time.

As for she and Joel, they became friends. For the first time in a long time they talked again, really talked. They got to know each other from scratch without the pressures of trying to be people they weren't; she'd come to stay every so often and she'd be more than welcome in their home, a reassuring presence to Sarah and a comforting one for him. There were times he almost kissed her again, almost embraced her the way they used to embrace, but then he'd remind himself that they didn't work. Couldn't work. He'd push the feelings down and love her from a distance, the only way he could.

She came to stay for Sarah's graduation in '03. They had a big party, invited everyone they knew, got very drunk. The inevitable finally happened, something they'd been skirting around for the past few years every time they saw each other, the attraction and tension building and building the longer they went without admitting that they still wanted one another. They'd been through the ringer together and came out the other side and still looked at each other like they had in high school. It was only a matter of time.

They fucked all night and into the morning.

"Oh my god," he'd groaned into her ear, naked bodies splayed against each other in bed, entwined together for the first time in almost seven years, "I missed that. Jesus fuck, I missed that."

It was only meant to be that one time, a celebration of some sort that happened unexpectedly but never again. That was the case until she came back in '06, still single, still beautiful, and he couldn't help himself. They both couldn't help themselves.

The arrangement was simple: whenever they reunited with each other and they were both single, both wanted it, they'd have sex.

It worked. And it was good, so fucking good. Every time. They were wild with it, felt younger than they'd ever been whenever they were tangled up in Joel's bed, on the couch, in the shower. They tried new things together and had more fun than they'd ever had when they were actually in a relationship. Each time it was like they were playing pretend; pretending for a short while that their everyday problems didn't exist, nothing else existed but them. Just them - just this moment.

The last time he saw Mish was four years ago. He'd been fresh out of his last relationship, the only relationship that had really meant something to him since his marriage. Tess was lovely, beautiful and funny and exactly the person he'd needed after those tumultuous years with Mish; someone calm and collected, stable and secure. They were just friends first, for a while, but eventually developed a sexual relationship that was only ever meant to be casual. After about a year she'd confessed her feelings and he'd thought, what the hell, I might as well try. Unfortunately, his what the hell attitude had been a steady feature of their entire relationship, and he'd never been able to fully be what she'd needed.

It was his fault it ended, but that hadn't stopped him from feeling heartbroken over it. And when Sarah and Mish had visited she'd dressed his wounds in the only way she really knew how - sex. The sex was always good with Mish, regardless of the situation. It was always what they needed. But it could only ever be sex because their personalities were never meant to blend; she was flighty and wild and needed space - he was steady and serious and enjoyed the comforts of home. And those early years were something he'd never get back, something he still blamed her for, and she knew it. It could never work, as much as they may have tried early on.

She'd been on the cusp of a new relationship, this guy Alvin who she'd met in Philadelphia, but nothing was set in stone yet and she wanted Joel to feel good.

"Nothing else matters right now," she'd whispered in the darkness of their old bedroom, the one he'd shared with her countless times over the past twenty years, "It's just you and me, Joel. It's always been you and me."

"You and me, Mish," he'd repeated, hands firm against her bare back as she slowly began to ride him, "Just us, just you and me."

He's still staring at the picture of their younger selves when her hand slowly comes down to touch one of his. He swallows tightly, feels her eyes on him, senses her moving closer.

"Mish," he whispers; an acknowledgement? A warning?

He feels a finger on his chin, tilting his head up to meet her gaze, and then she's kissing him again. It's different than it was at the bar, much less soft, less reserved. She moans into his mouth as the picture falls to the floor, pushes him down so he's laying flat and then throws a leg over his thighs. She situates herself in his lap in the span of about five seconds and he barely has any time to register what's even happening.

But when he does... he's not happy.

"Stop," he mumbles against her mouth, bringing his hands down to grab her hips and carefully pull her off of him. Her brows furrow in confusion as he slides her away and sits back up, kneels and then stands with a groan. His fucking knees.

"Why?" she asks, peering up at him from the floor.

"'Cause... 'cause nothin'," he lies, shaking his head and sitting down on the edge of the bed with a sigh, wincing as his bones crack from being on the floor in such an odd position, "Nothin', I'm just tired."

She follows him up from the floor and onto the bed, seats herself beside him and leans in to mouth gently against his neck, hot and wet, "That's okay, baby. I can do all the work."

"I said no, Mish," he repeats, standing up again and walking away from the bed, "I don't want to."

"Why?" she repeats, adamant now.

He splutters, kicking his feet and not meeting her gaze, "Sarah'll be back soon, there's no time."

"Time has never been an issue before, you know that more than anybody."

"I just don't want you right now, alright?" it comes out much louder and angrier than he'd intended, "Jesus Christ, Mish."

That stops her short, the room plunging into silence as she stares at him from her place on the edge of the bed. Her lips begin to tremble, hands coming to wring together in her lap uncomfortably. She shakes her head slowly, tears welling in her wide eyes.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, voice shaky, "I'm sorry, Joel."

God dammit. He hadn't meant to make her cry.

With a sigh he walks back over to the bed, sitting down beside her again - but not as close this time. She continues to stare forward, still tugging at her hands as tears slowly start to make their way down her cheeks. He feels a familiar pang of pity in his heart, the urge to comfort her like he always has, hold her close and kiss her softly. But he doesn't do that; instead, he places a hand on hers to halt her movements, squeezes them gently.

"You wanna know why it didn't work out with Alvin, Joel?" she asks quietly.

"Why?"

She takes a shaky breath, "He had a wife. A fuckin' wife and three kids. Young kids, still in school, still livin' at home."

"Jesus," he mutters.

"And you wanna know how I found out? Because one night he was sayin' her name when he was fuckin' me; Sharon. Fuckin' Sharon. Repeatin' it over and over without even realizing. And then he had the audacity to act like he didn't know what the hell I was talkin' about." The tears are flowing steadily now, staining her cheeks and dripping down onto their locked hands, "I did some diggin', found out his real name, found his whole other life. I've been a fuckin' mistress for four years and had no clue."

"Michelle..." he breathes.

"Don't call me that," she snaps, turning her face away from him and trying to reign the tears back in but failing miserably, voice coming out in sobs now, "You know how long it's been since someone wanted me, Joel? Actually wanted me? I get that I'm a shitty person. I know I fucked up a lot in my life. I mean, maybe I don't deserve love, 'cause why the hell can't I fuckin' find it? Why does nobody want me?"

"Stop," he says firmly, squeezing her hands tighter, "Don't say shit like that, don't think that way."

"But it's true," she cries, pulling her hands away and bringing them up to her face, "I just needed to be wanted again, Joel. Just for a night, and now you don't even want me."

"That's- that's not true, Mish, come on."

"You literally just said the words two minutes ago," she's suddenly inconsolable, tears streaming down her face as she sobs beside him, "You don't want me, no one wants me."

His arms come up to wrap around her, pull her close to him as she cries harder. He doesn't know what the fuck to do, how to be what she needs without being what she needs. It's an impossible position to be in; how can he just walk out the door and leave her sitting there like this? Leave her so sad, so broken?

"Joel, I need this," she whispers, peering up at him through her wet lashes and leaning her head forward to rest against his shoulder, "Please. I need you."

God. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. What the fuck is he supposed to do? How the fuck can he say no when she's looking at him like that, begging for him?

"Please," she repeats, turning her head and pressing a wet kiss to the skin of his collarbone, "Please, Joel, please," her kisses slowly move up to his neck, warm and safe and familiar. His eyes start to close, lips parting as she keeps going, "It's just us, it's you and me."

Just us, you and me.

"Stay here," he finally breathes, thumbing the skin of her hip reassuringly, "Just - just stay here, okay? I'll be right back."

He finds himself thirty seconds later just standing in his bedroom, unmoving, unsure, thoughts going a mile a minute. He breathes in and out slowly, tries to calm the anxiety threatening to burst through the seams of his very being. What the fuck am I doing? What the actual fuck am I doing right now?

He goes through the motions without really feeling or understanding them. Goes to the bathroom and relieves himself, splashes cold water on his face and stares at his reflection for too long. Heads back to his bedroom and just stands there again, heart pounding. She's waiting for him. Time is passing and he's just standing there.

"Joel?" he hears her call out, voice still thick with tears.

He does not want her to follow him in here. He does not want to have sex in this bed.

With shaky steps he walks over to his nightstand and tugs it open, sees the box of condoms. Stares at them. Stares at them so long that she calls out again.

"Joel? You comin'?"

He feels like he's underwater, ears ringing as his hand trembles on the handle of the drawer, itching to just slam it closed again. What am I doing? What am I doing? What am I doing?

And then he sees it.

He'd completely forgotten it was there, has been doing his best this entire night to not think about you that he's already managed to forget what happened last night. But he remembers now. He reaches down, hand suddenly completely steady, and pulls the gold chain to entwine around his fingers. It's like he's touching you in a way, feeling you, sensing you - your tears, your sadness, your anger, your insecurities - all wrapped up in this one little cross.

He thumbs it carefully, eyes softening, anxiety ebbing away as the seconds pass. He pictures your lovely face this morning, all sleepy and pretty and perfect in the glow of the early sunrise, the way your hair framed your face, the way you bit your lip shyly when you told him what was on your mind.

He hears footsteps in the hall, knows she's coming, but he doesn't care. Just keeps standing there with his hand curled around your crucifix and warmth filling his chest.

He hears the door open, hears her step inside.

"I can't," he says softly, before she can speak.

Silence. Then -

"What's that?"

"It's..." he closes his fist around the crucifix and then shuts the drawer slowly, still looking down at it. When he finally brings his head up he sees Mish standing near the side of the bed, looking at him with confusion in her eyes.

He swallows tightly, "There's someone else, Mish."

He watches the realization dawn on her face, the confusion fading and acceptance flooding her features. She nods slowly, bringing a hand up to wipe the tears still trickling down her cheeks. "You coulda just said that," she breathes, closing her eyes, "Why didn't you just say?"

He doesn't reply, doesn't know what to say. Or rather, knows what to say but can't say it because then it'll make it real. And he's still so fucking scared for it to be real.

Mish slowly walks forward and sits on the edge of the bed, taking a few steadying breaths to calm herself. "Feel like a fuckin' idiot," she mumbles; she seems okay now, nowhere near as hysterical as she'd been before.

"You're not an idiot," he murmurs. God, he should have just fucking told her. He should have said something.

"So, who is she?" she asks quietly.

"She's..." he swallows again, taking a seat on the other side of the bed, facing the opposite direction, "She's a girl I met a little while ago." A few weeks ago, he mentally corrects. Almost a month. Barely any time at all.

She clocks that. "Girl? Or woman?"

"....Girl."

"How old?"

"Twenty one."

"Jesus," he's not sure what she's thinking when he can't see her face, not sure if she's angry or disgusted or just surprised, "I mean, wow. That's... that's young, Joel."

"I know."

"Never known you to go even ten years lower."

"I know."

Silence again. He's waiting for her to ask the question, the one he knows is coming, the one he's been dreading every since he got that text from Sarah on Wednesday. The one that will force him to admit what he's so desperately been trying to bury.

"So... is it just sex? Or is it..." she trails off for a few seconds, "Is it more?"

There it is.

"I don't know," he murmurs, putting his face in his hands and hunching over the side of the bed with a groan, "I don't know what it is but she's... she's in my head, ya know? She's everywhere, can't stop fuckin' thinkin' about her." The crucifix digs into his cheek, probably making an imprint in his skin, "She's so fuckin' young but, God, Mish, she's so fuckin' sweet. I wanna... I wanna take care of her, ya know? But-" he feels the tears flooding his eyes, tries to swallow his feelings as best he can, "I'm just.. I can't..."

"You're in over your head," she acknowledges softly, "You don't know what you're doin'."

"I don't."

"And that scares the fuck outta you, huh?"

"Pretty much."

They don't say anything else for a few moments, both absorbing the revelation in silence and neither really knowing what else to say about it. This night has gone in a direction that neither were prepared for and he's not sure they'll be able to fix it before Sarah gets back. Which reminds him...

"You'd think Sarah woulda been back by now."

Mish snorts, a welcome sound in the middle of so much tension. He turns around to look at her, finds her doing the exact same thing.

"I told her to give us forty five minutes to an hour, tops," she says with a half smile.

Of course she did.

Mish decides to get a cab back to the motel she and Sarah booked. He doesn't argue. He knows it's for the best, knows there will be another, better conversation some time in the future and that despite everything, they'll see each other again.

"She's lucky to have you," she tells him softly at the front door, wrapping her arms around him in a warm embrace. He can hear the sincerity in her words, knows she means it. "You'll take care of her, Joel. Like you take care of everyone."

He just closes his eyes, pulls her in closer and lets the tears fall.

Sarah gets back with the food, doesn't question where Mish is; she must have texted her and told her she wouldn't be here. There's no awkwardness or questions, just the same old familiarity and love as Sarah pops the first DVD into the ancient player they've had forever and settles in beside him on the couch. They only half-watch it, continuously getting distracted by each other's dumb commentary and random anecdotes about the past. This is what he wanted tonight to be. Just this.

He tries his best to be present with Sarah, but by the time they're halfway through the second film he can't stop thinking about you. He'd spent so much of today trying to push thoughts of you away and now your face is suddenly all he can see whenever he blinks, your soft giggles and whimpers echoing in his ears. He wonders what you're doing, if you're having a nice time with your friend, if you're being careful like he'd told you to be. You'd said this was your first time going out and he just hopes you're safe. Your crucifix sits reassuringly in the pocket of his jeans, almost like a part of you is still here with him.

He excuses himself to use the bathroom and sends you a quick text:

Hope you're having a good night, babygirl. You deserve to have some fun. I'll see you tomorrow. Be safe.❤️

He feels the urge to press a kiss to his phone and wonders when the hell he got so damn soft. He can practically hear Mish's voice telling him you've always been soft, dummy. She'd be right.

They both wake up the next morning still snuggled up on the couch, Sarah on one end and him on the other. He yawns and stretches, groans when he feels a searing pain in his lower back; fuck, he shouldn't have slept on the couch.

"Old man," Sarah mocks quietly with a glint in her eye, and he playfully slaps her leg.

He checks his phone when Sarah heads to the bathroom, hopes maybe you'll have replied to him when you got in last night, but there's nothing there. He frowns but lets logic soothe him, reminding himself that you were probably too tired when you got back and fell asleep right away. He sends you another text, just to be sure:

You get home ok? Let me know x

He'll see you soon for your lesson anyway.

After breakfast he walks Sarah out onto the front step, hand holding hers tightly, almost afraid to let go. She smiles up at him sadly and squeezes back, a silent promise.

"I'll visit again real soon, Dad," she says quietly, "Sooner than last time. I'll bring Jude too, y'all can watch football together."

He smiles with watery eyes, "I'm countin' on it, kiddo."

"You're not lonely, are you?" she suddenly asks, expression one of love and concern, "You got people here, right?"

Your face crosses his mind again, your lovely smile, that little line between your brows, "I'm not lonely," he reassures her softly, "Promise."

He means it.

They hug each other tenderly, basking in one last moment together before they inevitably have to pull away. She walks to her car and turns back with one final wave, tears glistening in her eyes. He waves back and then heads back inside the house quickly before she can see what a mess he is, hands coming up to cover his eyes on the other side of the door as he pulls himself together.

And then, just like that, he's alone again.

You don't show up to your lesson.

His first thought is that you're still asleep, probably hungover from last night and desperately in need of some rest. He doesn't blame you, has had more bad hangovers than he can even count. He checks in with you anyway, hoping he'll hear back soon when you wake up.

Another hour passes; he's already cleaned up the kitchen, vacuumed up the popcorn lining the couch and living room floor, rearranged the DVDs, and suddenly the boxes upstairs in the guest room are calling his name. Anything to make the time pass, anything to distract himself from the fact that he still hasn't heard from you.

He texts you again after two hours, after he's finished unpacking two boxes. He just sends some question marks this time. It's around noon now and he keeps trying to convince himself that you're just sleeping, probably still passed out in bed with leftover alcohol buzzing through your veins. The thought makes him wish he was there with you, taking care of you, bringing you glasses of water and cuddling with you until you feel better.

It's mid afternoon when he starts to question whether or not you even got home. He knows you're not home home, that you'd gone to an Airbnb with your friend for the weekend, but he has no idea where it is and if you're even there. What if something happened on the night out? What if you got lost or got too fucked up to figure out how to get back? What if someone you didn't know took you back with them?

He feels sick to his stomach. This time he does the only rational thing he feels he can do - he calls you. He sits on the edge of his bed, toes tapping against the hardwood floor as he waits for you to pick up, but you don't. It goes to voicemail. He hangs up and tries again. Same thing.

He texts you again, but something tells him you won't be reading them any time soon.

He leaves the house to clear his head, anxiously tapping on the wheel as he drives around the neighborhood. He passes by your parents' house a few times, eyeing the property and trying his best to see past the ridiculous fence they have blocking off the place. He makes out a police car in the driveway and almost has a panic attack before he remembers that your father is a cop and that's just the vehicle he drives.

He calls and texts you a few more times as the evening comes around. He pours himself some whiskey and tries to calm himself down, breathes in and out, practices the exercises he's had to depend on throughout most of his life. He's always had an anxiety problem, has been on and off medication for it for years. He briefly considers popping an Ativan before realizing that he probably shouldn't mix it with alcohol.

The alcohol messes with his head a bit as darkness falls. He starts to wonder if maybe you did get back safe, just with someone else, someone new. Maybe you met someone, had a connection, took them home and let them be the one to fuck you for the first time. Maybe the reason you're not reaching out is because you're afraid of what he'll say, afraid he'll be angry.

While the thought makes him feel sick and sad, he's even sicker and sadder about not knowing where the fuck you are. He sends you a text to reiterate this, hoping you'll read it and understand:

Just a text is all I need honey. I promise. If you're not feeling this anymore that's okay. Just wanna know you got home safe last night.

He's already unpacked all the boxes, peppered photographs and music memorabilia all over his house as the day came to a close, and now he has nothing else to do but just sit and wait. So he waits. And waits. And waits.

You still don't reply.

He calls you over and over again, wondering what the fuck he's going to do. He can't in good conscious just let this go on, just stop contacting you and let you come back to him on your own. What if something bad really did happen? What if you're really fucked up somewhere? What if someone took advantage of you? He can't just sit idly by and wait.

He lays in bed and stares at the ceiling, feels tears sting his eyes every time he comes up with a new concept as to where you are, what could have happened. All he wants is to have you here with him, warm and soft in his bed, close in all the ways he needs you.

I don't know what to do angel. Can't stop thinking about you. Wish you were here in my arms. Please be safe.

He's scaring himself the longer he thinks about where you could be, knows he has to take action. He decides that if he still hasn't heard from you by tomorrow morning, he'll tell somebody. Whether it be the police or your parents, it doesn't really matter - they're one and the same.

He sends you one last text before the whiskey puts him to sleep:

Please.

The doorbell wakes him up. At first he thinks maybe he's hearing things, especially when he tiredly unlocks his phone and sees that it's three in the morning, but then it rings again. And again. Over and over like someone is pressing the button repeatedly. He sits up in bed with a jolt and swings his legs over the side, heart racing as he practically sprints down the stairs.

He turns on the light, squinting with tired and bleary eyes through the frosted glass along the side of the door. He can make out something pink and his eyes widen. He grabs the handle and tugs the door open, only for his body to immediately collide with someone else's, a beautiful girl in a pink dress.

It's you. His beautiful girl. His angel. Standing there almost completely unable to hold yourself upright as you lean against him, arms coming up to wrap around his middle. He holds you close, momentarily frozen in shock.

"Are you okay?"

You're so out of it. He takes you to the couch and you can barely open your eyes, can barely get words out as you flop drunkenly against the cushions. He can't tell if you're drunk or high or both, trying his best to get your attention, desperately asking what you took, where you've been. It's terrifying to see you like this, so completely not yourself, loose and uninhibited in the worst way. You tell him you came here with Tasha and he waves her inside, hoping she can help shed some light on what the fuck happened to you.

Tasha is something else. She stands her ground, doesn't back down when he clearly tries to intimidate her, consistently tries to get past him and reach for you despite his attempts to block her. He's angry, so fucking angry that she could let this happen to you. How long have you been like this? How long has this "night out" been going on? Did it turn into a fucking bender?

"She knows what you've been doing, you asshole." The words mean nothing to him, he has no idea what the fuck she's even talking about. They're clearly both wasted - you more than her - and have somehow wound up at his house at three in the morning by some miraculous volition. He's not letting you leave with her, that's for sure.

Then you say the same thing to him and he's beyond confused, waiting to be let in on whatever sick fucking joke is being played on him right now. What do they think he's been doing? What do they think they know? What have their intoxicated brains convinced themselves of?

And then the other shoe drops.

"We saw you kiss someone else."

That feeling he'd had yesterday - that sensation of being underwater - returns in full force. He stares at you; not Tasha, you. Because as soon as she says it your eyes tear away from him to stare at the floor, lips trembling in sadness, hands shaking beneath Tasha's arms. He can see it in your expression, in your body language despite the alcohol - you're fucking heartbroken. You can't even look at him.

He tries to explain but the words aren't coming out right; he's sure he sounds absolutely pathetic as he just stands there in the middle of the living room, stumbling over his words like the absolute fool he is. You still don't look at him. You don't say anything, and it kills him.

That's when he realizes that Tasha is not the one in the wrong here. It's him. He's the one who deserves to be shouted at, intimidated, made to feel small. He's the one who fucked up. It's him.

And then - if the situation hadn't already been bad enough - Tasha informs him that you'd seen Sarah leaving this morning. His eyes go wide, heart racing like a steam engine in his chest as he shakes his head and wonders how the fuck this could be happening right now. The past few days he's been so unsure about letting you know the real him, didn't know if he'd ever be able to tell you - and now he has no choice. No choice but to drop a bomb on you in this sad and drunken state, otherwise leave you believing that he's been doing god knows what with god knows who.

"That was my daughter."

You register the words and finally look at him, and his heart swells three sizes in his chest when your gazes meet. Just for a moment you don't look as sad, don't look as broken. You peer into his eyes and he thinks for a moment that maybe you see him, really see him, for the first time. It's both terrifying and incredible and he doesn't know how he manages to get the words out, but he does.

He knows now what he has to do.

He has to tell you. He has to tell you everything.

Tasha apologizes and helps you back out to the cab. He watches her place you carefully inside, watches as you turn your head to look out the back window, still peering at him with that look on your face that he can't really explain. He stands and waits until you've disappeared down the street before going back inside, where he immediately collapses onto the couch, exhausted.

He reaches inside his pocket and tugs out your crucifix, brings it up to his neck with trembling hands and manages to latch it around his neck. He palms the cross, presses it into the bare skin at his collarbone.

She's safe, he thinks to himself, she's safe and that's all that matters.

In the morning, as soon as he wakes up, he sends you a text:

I'm so sorry. Words can't even describe how fucking ashamed and embarrassed I am. I can't imagine how horrible that must have been for you. I understand if you don't want to see me anymore, but I want to tell you everything, if you'll let me. I hope you're feeling okay today, angel. Drink lots of water, stay with Tasha. Text me whenever you're ready.

He wants to cry, thinking about how much he hurt you. He wouldn't blame you for wanting this to just be over now, to move on and pretend like you never even met him that day on his front step. He feels so fucking ashamed of himself, angry for not telling Mish the truth from the beginning, horrified that you'd seen him in a moment of weakness like that, a moment of cowardice.

The crucifix stays on his neck throughout his shower and breakfast. He's never been one to wear jewelry, and god knows he's never been one to wear jewelry with religious imagery, but somehow it calms him to have it on, soothes him. His anxiety feels better despite the circumstances, and he's grateful.

His phone buzzes around eleven and the force at which he picks it up almost sends it flying across the room. His brow furrows when he sees a text from an unknown number:

hey it's tasha. sorry about last night. that was a shitshow. she's awake and feeling better, just wanted you to know.

She didn't have to do that and he knows it.

Thank you. I'm glad she has you. I'm sorry for the way I spoke to you, I was just really worried about her.

that's ok. i know you're a good guy. she knows it too.

Do you, though? Do you really still think of him as being someone you can trust, someone you can talk to? Someone you can give yourself to completely?

i'm gonna send you the address of the airbnb. i think you should come talk to her.

The address follows and he puts it into his maps app; it's not too far, he can make it there in about forty minutes.

Thank you so much Tasha

text when ur here, i'll let you in.

He sits in his truck for a lot longer than he needs to after pulling up to the house. He knows he has to tell you everything now, that you're going to want answers and that he'll give them to you. But he's made a discovery in the past twelve hours that has his head reeling:

He wants to tell you. He wants you to know all about him. Suddenly, he doesn't mind that he's old and washed up and pathetic. He wants you to know that, wants you to see the real him, who he really is. The unpretty, uncharming reality of his mediocre life. He isn't sure that you'll want it, that you'll want him, but what he's sure of is that he's tired of pretending.

What Mish had said on Friday night - "You know how long it's been since someone wanted me, Joel? Actually wanted me?" - it had resonated with him in a way he hadn't been expecting. He knows that feeling, has been feeling it for years without actually saying it aloud because admitting it was too painful, too scary.

He's been putting on a front for his entire life. First, to his parents, then to Mish, then Sarah, then the select few women who'd come in and out of his life, then Tess, and now you. And he's tired. He's so fucking tired of pretending to be someone else. For the first time in a long time, he actually wants to be him.

I'm here.

Tasha opens the door to let him inside. The house is pretty cozy, probably one of the more inexpensive ones you both could find. He notes the leftover snacks littering the table and couch, the empty wine glasses. He hopes you had fun here, at least for a little while. Before he fucking ruined it.

"She's asleep," Tasha says, closing the door behind him and ushering him inside, "I wanna talk to you for a sec, before you go in."

He nods and she gestures toward the couch for him to sit. He takes his place on the edge, knees together as he looks up at her and waits for her to speak.

"I'm her best friend," she says firmly, hands on her hips - she means business, "I've known her for three years now and I know her better than anyone."

He nods slowly.

"She's really coming into herself right now," Tasha continues, "She's making big discoveries, figuring out who she is and what she wants. You know that."

"I do."

"And... well, we both know that what she wants most is you."

He swallows then, feels his heart begin to pound, clenching his fists at his knees.

"This thing with your ex, is it over?"

"Yes," he says immediately, "She'll always be my daughter's mother, she'll always be my friend, but that part of our relationship is over."

"And you mean that?"

"I mean it."

She assesses him and slowly nods, then curls her finger and urges him to stand back up. He does, suddenly towering over her in the small living room.

"First door on the left," she tells him, then walks to the front door, "I'll give you some space."

She's gone before he has the chance to thank her.

He slowly makes his way down the hallway, step by step. He reaches the door, heart pounding in his chest as he closes his eyes, takes a deep breath and lets the promises he made to himself flood through his mind. His past, his present, and his future... the future he sees with you.

He touches his pocket, feels for your crucifix.

I can do this, he thinks to himself. For her, I can do this.

#joel miller x reader #fic: feelings on fire #*

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taintedcigs · 4 months

Text

Steve loves driving you around.

Picking you up, dropping you off, random late night drives, random 'please come with me to run some errand' drives.

Everything.

You always assume he would hate it, get bored, annoyed, from having you just sitting there. But it's all he wants. needs.

Have you right there by him, pretty smile curving on your lips, the light wind from the cranked down windows whiffling through your skin, hair, causing your scent to linger in the air. Comfort filling the space.

His thick palm gripping the wheel, while the other is lightly pressed upon your thigh, squeezing three times to let you know he is there, protective, sticky-sweet, enough to fill your stomach with all the butterflies.

Your hands return the favor, tender fingertips brushing against his possessive grip, almost to ground him, bring him all the comfort he needs, his world turning on its axis every time he realizes you're his. How lucky he is to have you by his side.

You glance at him with your nose scrunched, smile adorning your glossed lips, he wants to kiss it all over, run his fingertips along your features, admire it, have it etched on to his brain. He'd do just about anything to see your pretty expressions.

Yet, all he can utter are endless compliments, "s'pretty... just like an angel, hmm?" He admires the heat traveling up to your cheeks, smile growing wider as you tell him to stop, but he could never.

He brings your hand to his lips, pressing gentle kisses all over the back of it, warmth traveling through him instantly.

Rest of the ride is filled with shared, tender kisses, whispers of compliments, and the two of you singing along to your favorite songs he made a mixtape of, it's nothing short of caring, attentive, and everything you need wrapped up in a bundle.

He hates when it ends, when he inevitably has to drop you off to your destination, heart leaping out of his chest when that small smile disappears from your lips. His does too - knowing that the warmth and comfort would leave with you.

"What time should I pick you up, honey?" It always makes you feel bad, like some sort of a burden, and he can sense it in your anxious gaze.

"Stevie, y'know I can just walk-" And he tuts quickly, never letting you finish. You don't realize it, how much he enjoys this - the comfort you bring to him just being by his side, and his incessant need to keep you safe.

"Nuh-uh, will you be done by 8:30?" He asks with a smile, you tilt your head with a narrowed gaze, all adorably that Steve melts, all over again.

"Steve."

"Sweetheart," he parrots, wicked grin on his lips that makes you giggle, dreamy gaze that you can't say no to. "Mhmm, 8:30 is perfectly fine," you give in, so easily, so quickly, giving him comfort when he leaves you with a simple goodbye kiss.

And just like promised, he's there, at 8:30 - not a minute late, with that beaming smile, glint in his gaze that makes you feel so giddy that you skip your way into his BMW.

Steve turns toward you with a beaming grin, one hand holding the door open, while the other is stuffed with a bouquet of flowers, warmth filling your heart instantly.

You squeal at the lilac Asters and the eggshell white Baby's breath adorning the bouquet - you know to acquire those flowers he had to make an almost twenty minutes trip away from Hawkins, but Steve would do anything for you. Speechless and grateful, your big doe-eyes look up at him, tears almost welling, before you can speak, he gives you a light kiss.

"I picked up something to eat on my way here," he mumbles, smile so big his cheeks hurt from the stretch, but he can't help it. He'd do anything for you, his pretty, pretty girl.

And he knows you so well.

The two of you drive back the same way he got you there, munching on the fries, his hand on your thigh while you helped him sip on his cherry coke, telling him about your day, his mixtape for you serves as a background drop.

And he doesn't understand how you'd think you could ever be a burden, because that's all he wants anyway, to take care of you, have his passenger princess by his side.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington blurbs #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fluff #enjoy this stupidity i found in my drafts. SIGH.

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nunalastor · 4 months

Note

I have a lot of ideas, mainly duckiedeer tho, so this might be long, feel free to ignore it if you don't want to read it, lmao.

One where Alastor is greyromantic, so he has never felt romantically towards anybody.

Lucifer moves in and their bickering just increases, and he does what he has always used to do with his rivals and he starts flirting with Alastor in whatever way will piss the radio demon off the most. With the time Alastor catches feelings and at first he doesn't get what they are, but after seeing the way Husk and Angel act he gets it, and he hates it. The solution? Make their bickering everyone's problem by being as loud as he can, to convince himself he still hates him and he's just confused.

Lucifer catches feelings as well a while after, he realizes after noticing the sarcastic flirting is losing the sarcasm, he tries and fails to ignore the feeling, and just increases when he goes to bed and can't help but think about Alastor's seemingly redder face, from a fairly adorable pick up line he tried earlier.

Now you have two idiots aggressively pinning like highschool girls and both very angry with themselves about it, both try to get rid of the feelings just to end up falling deeper.

This is just Alastor, you know, since he was alive during WWI, I thought maybe he fought on it. Before WWI he didn't have any immoral tendencies, he was just weird, then he fought on WWI, and the feeling of killing someone sunk on him. By the end of the war is when he actually became a serial killer.

Back to radioapple.

Charlie gave Lucifer a 50,000 piece puzzle once they finished the hotel, the picture was a mountain of rubber ducks, so you could tell it took him a lot to get any of it done since the pieces where all really similar with mainly yellow. They placed it on a big table near the bar where everyone usually hung out, so if anyone wanted to help the were welcomed to, he sat there for hours everyday for a few months trying to advance with it.

One day Alastor, pretty annoyed that the puzzle was taking all of his pathetic love interest arch nemesis’ attention, he did the only logical solution which was helping him out with the thing. This helped to:

1. Understand what was so appealing about the thing that Lucifer wasn't interested on hating him as much anymore.

2. Bicker with him as they assembled the thing.

The plan backfired, Alastor ended up loving the puzzle just as much as Lucifer, and now they have something to bond over. Neither knows how to feel about it.

Lucifer gets really depressed from time to time, and he gets nightmares.

He used to cuddle Charlie and Lilith before when this happened, but Lilith wasn't here anymore and Charlie slept with Vaggie, so he couldn't just ask to sleep with them like he was their child. So somehow he ended up on Alastor's room and cuddled up to him, and now it was just something they did every time Lucifer had nightmares, if somebody knew this happened they didn't dare to bring it up.

Subsequently, one day Alastor just came up to Lucifer and gifted him a giant Duck plushie to cuddle up to the nights he wasn't at the hotel, the duck had a duck-adapted version of Alastor's outfit and it smelled like the raio demon.

Lucifer keeps a radio hidden on his room, he listens to Alastor's broadcast when he feels low, nobody knows about this.

Alastor keeps an apple shaped ornament on his radio station where he can see it while broadcasting, Lucifer keeps an Alastor duckie on his workshop.

Giving the “Alastor gets a celestial wound after Adam's fight that can only be cured by Lucifer” trend a twist for my slowburn fan ass, Lucifer takes several days to heal Alastor's wound, at first, he doesn't let Lucifer come near his body, which only slows the process, but then theystart bonding and he slowly starts to let Lucifer make physical contact with him, first they are quick touches through his clothes, then he let's Lucifer linger his hand directly over his wound.

Alastor drags Lucifer to overlord meetings, Rosie is delighted to meet him the first time he goes to one, then the three of them just have their own private conversation while ignoring wherever topic is being discussed that day.

Husk asks Angel out solely because he sees how pathetic Alastor and Lucifer look pinning on eachother like that, and refuses to look life that himself.

10.

Lucifer and Alastor leave gifts in eachother's rooms on increasingly unhinged places (e.g: inside the pillows, taped to the ceiling) Alastor makes a point to leave them on tall places as well, with petty notes attached on them (e.g: Bambi looking ass). They deny the gifts being actually meaningful, despite the presents being sweet (e.g: chocolates, books, scented candles with eachother's favorite smells).

11.

Lucifer loves sweet and sour flavors (chocolate milk, apple juice, sour candy), while Alastor prefers salty and bitter (black coffee, unsweetened tea, chips). They hate on each other's tastes, but secretly try some of the other's favorite foods out of curiosity.

I'm going to stop there because otherwise this thing will go on forever :3.

🔥 so many!!

#hazbin hotel #radioapple #appleradio #radio apple #apple radio #lucifer #alastor #headcanon

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kiame-sama · 4 months

Text

Drag Me to Hell- (Yandere!Alastor x Chubby!Reader) pt 4

Warnings; Several spoilers for EP 8, violence warning, mention of blood warning, injury, stick with it I promise, kind of cliffhanger, Nifty is a wild little thing,

~~~~~~~~

"Ah, the celebratory night before a courageous last stand. It's been a surprising thrill to witness these wayward souls find connection. Almost makes one sentimental, eh Ladies?"

"I really like them, Alastor. They let me put on roach puppet shows without booing!"

"Ah, an enjoyable collective to be around. I admit, one could get accustomed. What do you think, my precious Doe?"

You stood with Alastor and Nifty, watching the sinners you lived with for months drink and enjoy their evening. Part of you was honestly sad you may not see them ever again after that night. Who knew what heaven had in store for everyone or if anyone would even make it through the onslaught.

"I... hope everyone makes it through this. I don't know how much help I can be to them, but I truly want to help them however I can."

It was then Alastor laughed, almost seeming hysterical in his laughter and that put you on edge. Something about his laugh made you feel like you had said something that set him off and that was a concerning feeling for you.

"My adorably naïve Doe, what in Hell makes you think you're going to be anywhere on that battlefield? No, no. You'll be safe where you belong in your microphone home and far from Heaven's table scraps. Enjoy this night, Dear. This may be the last time you see our wayward pals again."

You were both unsurprised and horrified at Alastor's words. Part of you honestly thought you would be fighting the angels with the others and to hear Alastor so casually state his plans to lock you away upset you. There was no fighting or arguing with Alastor, but you also felt compelled to at least try and convince the cannibal demon to allow you to stand with the souls you befriended.

Before you had the chance to speak, there was a sudden weight added to your head and you saw Nifty putting an oddly woven crown with several dead roaches on Alastor as well.

"I dub thee King and Queen Roach."

"Oh, to understand your twisted little mind."

Both Alastor and Nifty laughed, but you struggled to find the same humor in the moment when the reality of all you could lose loomed over you.

~~~~~~~~

Everything was dark spare for the glowing neon lights outside of the broken radio tower. So vastly different from what it had been seemingly moments before. The arms that wrapped around you and held you snugly only served to ground you from the absolute terror you had been in.

"Please..."

Your voice was a whisper that only seemed to echo among the rubble around you. His arms tightened in response for just a moment, his body tense. The broken microphone you had been contained in was clenched in one of his fists and almost felt cold against your body.

"Quiet, sweet Doe... Do not speak now..."

A part of you was terrified to remind Alastor that your deal had been broken and you didn't need to follow his orders anymore, but an even stronger part of you hesitated to think back on how it all fell apart.

It came from seemingly nowhere. You were safe within the microphone when the blast of heavenly light pierced into you. What neither you nor Alastor realized was that when a deal created item like the microphone breaks, the deal and the soul bound to it break as well. That was really all you remembered before your own mind blocked the rest out to protect you.

You winced at the memory despite your now healed stomach. When you awoke after being swallowed by Alastor's darkness, your body was healed almost completely. The only thing left of the splitting injury was a freshly healed scar around your midsection and an oddly empty feeling within.

Alastor couldn't stop himself from replaying the memory over and over in his mind and he hated what it meant for him and the soul he had found himself so fond of. Mostly he hated how he had reacted to it and the truth he now knew in himself. He couldn't deny now that he needed you and losing you was enough to show him that.

The sound of your choked and gasping cries made agony rip through Alastor's damned and tainted soul far more than he realized it would. Both pieces of the microphone in his hands and your soft body laying beneath Adam's axe as the angel grinned maliciously down at you. Your deal with Alastor to keep you safe and alive had been broken.

"Well, ain't that cute. Looks like I got your little fucking sinner bitch instead of you, she- this is one of heaven's souls. Where the fuck did shit like you get a soul from heaven? Damn it! They'll lose their shit if I kill one of our souls!"

He couldn't deny it, but he would never admit to it. Alastor would never admit to being afraid and desperate to not lose you because his own ego couldn't take it. Though he could no longer delude himself, he could still delude everyone else. Everyone except for you.

"Make another deal with me, my innocent lost Doe of heaven. Keep my eternal secrets for me. Broadcast for me with your pure radio waves and soul. I will keep hell from tainting you, and you keep your heaven touched soul reserved for me. Strengthen my radio station and be my trusted pet once more..."

Alastor hummed against your shoulder in a soft tone, knowing that he needed to get you back on his leash. He wasn't the only one in hell aware of your pure soul anymore. A heaven touched and claimed soul so untainted and pure was a very rare thing. Whatever angelic pride resulted in you being wrongfully cast out allowed Alastor a fantastic trophy of a soul. Despite still being considered the quarry of heaven, you wound up in Hell and you would remain there if he had anything to say about it.

A sinner's soul was one thing. One of heaven's souls was another entirely.

"Refuse... Well, we both know the broadcast can keep your sweet voice and soul protected for another half a decade. At least I don't make you scream for it."

~~~~~~~~

Vox watched the video over and over again of the soft woman Alastor supposedly kept within his microphone. What that stupid first human said peaked his interest in this Hell-bound heavenly soul. If he could get his hands on that soul there were certain to be some grand abilities paired with it, not to mention the value of such a soul in Hell's market.

All Vox had to do was convince Valentino and Velvet to put value in the same soul and it would be akin to a one-way ticket to the strongest overlords Hell has known. Well, that and wresting the pure soul from Alastor's control. It shouldn't be too hard given the fact that their deal was broken, but Alastor was likely to try and make another deal just to keep that sweet soul to himself.

On top of just the heavenly soul, the soul of the little maid Nifty was certainly a hot commodity given just what she did at the end of the extermination battle. With both souls in hand, Vox might not even need the other Vees in time. He could rise above the two Vees he had teamed up with and become more powerful than even Zestial.

No doubt the other Vees won't be too difficult to convince when it comes to the idea of collecting the two high value souls. Once Vox has his hands on those souls and can use them to taunt that old-timey prick, he will finally have everything he wants within his reach.

#kiame-sama #yandere #x reader #yandere x reader #reader insert #tw yandere #yandere alastor #yandere hazbin hotel

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nicoliine · 4 months

Text

The night Lucifer became your god.

☆彡 Your god had abandoned you; the devil stayed by your side.

Whose your devotion is with?

☆ Disclaimer: I'm an atheist myself but was raised Catholic, so I understand that some people may find this disrespectful. Please, if you find the religion subject as a taboo to write about, don't continue reading.

☆ G/N Reader—no pronouns or y/n used.

☆ English isn't my first language and I wrote this drunk, so if there is any mistake please excuse me <3

Religion as a metaphor for love 🛐

—"Eli, Eli, lema sabachtani?" Matthäus 27:46.—

In Lucifer's eyes, you were an angel.

There were few things that he considered pure in hell. His daughter, the love he once had for his wife, and the joy he felt when his last rubber duck wasn't a fiasco.

You, however, were the purest thing that ever stepped on hell.

It made him sick. It was like heaven had taken pity on him and decided to send you to bring love and comfort to his shattered soul.

The first time he ever stepped on your room, he almost thought you two weren't in hell, but in a church, your room resembles a presbytery. He was met by a big cross on the wall in front of him and a lot of candles around; the final straw was a bible on the nightstand.

Where did you even get that?

It was creepy.

It gave him chills; surely he was uncomfortable at first; he hated sacred places; it made him feel dizzy. But the way you talked to him and how you looked at him in the eyes made him feel as if he were in heaven again.

Except that both of you were in hell.

You were in hell. With him.

Your looks weren't any different; you often had a kind smile on your face. When someone made a gross comment, he never failed to see you putting your hands together in a praying motion. He got a glimpse of your scarred knees one time, and a thought came to his mind: you on your knees, praying to God countless nights instead of going to parties.

He felt jealous; oh, to be adored in that way, how would it feel?

And you were so sweet; you always knew what to say and how to react. Even when he felt like getting back into his depression hole, kind words came out of your lips as you held him.

He wanted you; he never, in thousands of years in hell, ever prayed to God, but he would do it for you to be his.

☆◦ •◦☆

If you are an angel, then how did you end up here? He often wondered: surely God wouldn't be so cruel as to send you to hell, right?

A scoff left his lips; of course he would.

It was dark outside, and the pouring rain could be heard from outside your room. In the comfort of your room, he couldn't help but ask. You just finished your prayer, an old but well-conserved rosary on your hands.

You don't really know what to say.

"I just guess that I deserved it."

Hearing you say that broke him, how could you say that you deserved to be down there? How could you be so cool about it? You even laughed it off. He didn't deserve to have you there; please don't be so mean to you.

You tried to change the subject almost immediately; you don't want to go on about the many nights that you stayed awake calling for your god to take you out of there, just to hear you. You think that Lucifer wouldn't like to hear you say that you don't want to be there.

Oh god, my god, why did he forsaken you?

Truth be told, you often questioned it yourself; you didn't want to. Guess that's why you're down there; you asked so many questions? how you spent your whole life following his rules, praying until your knees bled, and giving all your life to him, just to be thrown into hell forever.

It wasn't your fault.

You were so young and so naive.

Please, how can you leave me here?

How could you let me down even when you said you loved me?

☆◦ •◦☆

When you woke up in hell, you felt your heart shatter. Somehow, you managed to make it to the Heaven Embassy, looking at the building and hoping for them to come back for you, you stayed there for days. But it never happened.

It should be a mistake. You couldn't have failed; what had you done wrong?

When you arrived at the hotel, you wanted to cry. Everything Charlie told you would take for you to be redeemed has been everything you did in life.

Then why are you there?

Every passing day, your chest hurts a little more. It was like pieces of your soul were falling apart.

"I feel guilty, Lucifer; I know I shouldn't question his actions, that I would never understand," you said as your eyes were fixated on the big cross on your wall, "but he abandoned me; he doesn't love me anymore. I highly doubt he ever did."

You later felt guilty for breaking the rosary in your hand. Lucifer, however, felt excited about it.

☆◦ •◦☆

It hurts to see you like this, it made Lucifer feel so bad.

I mean, he understands how you are feeling; he used to have so many dreams that were taken away from him the moment he talked to his creator. He just wanted to be heard.

But he wasn't heard.

He remembers how it happened—the court spat on his face in his trial. They didn't even let him talk. He remembers how he felt the air leaving his lungs, so humiliated and despised by his father. He grabbed a fist of his shirt while they brought his sentence. His chest hurts a lot. He looked at his father, asking for forgiveness that he was never granted.

So he understood your pain; he felt your pain as his while you looked so hurt. You two weren't so different.

Except you were, you are a pure soul who did everything right, no questions asked ever. It makes his blood boil.

How could God treat you like this while Lucifer could break hell apart just for you to be on your knees for him?

He wanted to bring you comfort, but what does one say in a moment like this? What could he say that could give your heart rest?

You felt guilty; you felt remorse, wrath, pain, sadness—you didn't know what to think or how to react. You felt like your own father had abandoned you, leaving a hollow in your soul that couldn't be filled.

Everything left was for you to wait.

Wait to find something else to live for.

Something to pray for.

Someone to believe.

"If you were mine, I would never abandon you." Lucifer felt no remorse to say that; he wasn't taking advantage of your state. He just was showing you the right way, by his side you would never feel neglected or hurt. This is how it must have been since the beginning; if you had given him your heart since the beginning, you wouldn't have felt so much pain.

He would take care of you forever.

To have you on your knees before him was strange. He dreamed about this exact moment for so long, but he never thought it could really happen.

But it was happening.

You were there, with so much devotion in your eyes that it was impossible to look away.

He could see in your eyes that you would do everything he asked for.

How could God let you go when you were so devoted?

He wouldn't let you go.

Never.

You are his now.

You are his loyal believer; he's your god.

Like it always was supposed to be.

About where the inspiration for this came from:

There's a Mary statue in Spain that I absolutely loved the work of the sculptor, it's called: "María Santísima de la Quinta Angustia." —love the name!Her hurt face gave me chills and I thought about this writing. Please take a look at her, she looks like a doll! ✨

Likes and reblogs are appreciated. 💞

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader #nicolines

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doki-doki-imagines · 5 months

Note

Heyy can you do more of those angel reader with the mk1 earthrealmers? Pleaseeee they are so good!!! Maybe this time they are all down bad for the reader and the reader feeling very tempted? 😍😍😍🥹🥹🥹

previous part

Johnny Cage: -Every time he looks at you, he bites his lower lip and eyes close a little; his gaze is so intense… -You are not used to being desired, and you know what he feels for you is sinful. -But DAMN, sin never looked so appetising for you like right now. -You tell Johnny about this. It's all nice and hot, 'till your position isn't at risk. -He understands, or at least nods his head. You aren't sure he really understood anything. -The real question is: for how long will you be able to resist his tempting gaze?

Kenshi Takahashi: -Kenshi is gonna pull out all the rizz power that he has hidden for all this time. -He has been young and extremely confident, breaking more than one heart and stealing others. He can do it. -IF ONLY IT WAS THAT EASY. -His palms sweat, and more than once, he stuttered in front of you like a teenager in front of their first crush. -You find him so cute that you decide to kiss his cheek, your wings protecting you both from unwanted eyes. -You kiss him near the corner of his lips, his stubble scratching you a little. -Kenshi blushes immediately, stuttering without being able to say a word. He really is a cute man.

Raiden: -He blushes every time you get near him, but his body always searches for yours. -Raiden hopes that the light coming from your wings will hide his "dumb fool in love" expression. -They don't, and you find him more adorable each day. -It's after a long day at the fields that you decide to visit him, droplets of sweat running down his forehead. -"I think you need to refresh." Raiden doesn't even understand what is happening, your lips on his own, something like a flow running in his soul… -"See? Good like you just woke up." You pinch his cheek before going back to your room. Raiden actually refreshed, no sign of sweat or tiredness. -But damn, his heart is running kilometres.

Kung Lao: -He hates how you made him blush like a kid last time. It's time for revenge. -"Good morning, Lao!" You smile at him, waving from the window of your room. "…" Doctor, we are losing him!! Bring the defibrillator!!! -He has no chance against you, but Lao has no desire to throw in the towel. -"Don't try to be a sour fox, angels dislikes it." You tell him before your lips brush against his ones. -A punishment after one of his pranks. Is this the punishment for naughty kids? -Lao isn't sure he wants to stop.

Liu Kang: -He was already down bad he can't get worse. -As much as Liu Kang has to look like a respectable leader, he'll always try to sneak away to be next to you. -"Liu Kang." "Yes, dear?" "You like me, right?" "Yeah, you are amazing with all of us." "You know I don't mean it in that way!" -Making an angel lose patience isn't easy. Good job, Liu Kang! -Now it is a game of soft gesture and teasing glances! Who will lose first?

Geras: -He goes straight to the point. "I like you more than a friend." "!!!!!!" -You are mostly worried for your position, not sure angels are allowed to have relationships. -"I know what you are thinking. I checked, nothing bad will come from our union." -That's why you fell for him. Geras makes you always feel secure.

Bi-Han: -He fights you because he doesn't know any other way to get close to you. -But it's when you put him back on the ground, wings spread wide and flaming swords pointing at his throat, that Bi-Han understands that maybe you aren't that bad. -He always wants to train with you, nagging and nagging 'till you let go and do as he asks. -"If you want to go out with me, you should take me to a date." "Why when I can get you and improve my technique?" "Because if we keep fighting, I'll cut your throat open before we can kiss."

Kuai Liang: -He is so enchanted by you that Liang just lose the ability to speak. -So he spars with you, muscles going by memory so Liang doesn't need his brain. "Your scar-" "It reminds me of terrible memories." "It gave you a beautiful new light. Be proud of what you've become." You say, thumb brushing his scar near the corner of his lips. -He'll nod and blush. -If only this light gave him the courage to ask you out…

Tomas Vrbada: -He goes straight to the point! Well, Tomas stutters and blushes but won't wait much before revealing his feelings. -Also, because he was totally obvious. -Tomas grips your hand and tells you his feelings, a guy so big looking like a puppy while revealing his feelings. -He makes you blush… -"Will you go out with me?!" "Yes!" Your wings spread at your reply, white feathers surrounding you both. -You both look like fools in love.

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lucifers-rubber-duck · 2 months

Note

Was wandering how the crew would react to a reader with animalistic beahavior (reader that acts like an animal something).

Like how a dog would be possessive of smt, tounge hanging out, suddenly extremely happy, or like a cat doing long stretches and sleeping in small conners.

P.S this is my first request and I really like your format of writing, keep up the good work 👍.(if you don't want to do this I completely understand, it is a rather strange request so no need to fell bad😗)

Characters: Charlie, Vaggie, Alastor, Husker, Angel, Niffty, Sir Pentious & Lucifer

Warnings: None.

A/N: That's a totally fine request! I'm glad you like my writing :} Thanks for the ask Anon and sorry for taking so long.

𖤓Charlie

• Finds you adorable, she enjoys your shenanigans and makes sure that you don't feel ashamed by them, it's something you can't control.

• She has experience with taking care of pets, like Kiki, Razzle and Dazzle; so she totally would make the space around you comfortable for you to act the way you want. I also think that Kiki would sometimes hiss at you for no reason but Charlie is trying her best to make Kiki like you more.

• She would ask if you were okay with her petting you sometimes, she's not malicious or anything, she just truly loves seeing how your face would immediately soften with her touch.

• Likes when you sleep close to her, all curled up in couch or in bed, your presence helps her relax when she ends up too stressed trying to make the hotel work.

𖤓Vaggie

• She's not the biggest animal enjoyer but wouldn't mind you doing your own thing. She does have some experience since she helped Charlie take care of her own pets but watching someone that was previously a human act like that makes her side-eye a few of your actions.

• Would be more helpful if your demon form is similar to a bird, if you had wings she would offer herself to peel your feathers and clean them up so you don't have to do it alone. She was a angel before and had to do the same things but she won't tell you that part.

• You would end up scaring her sometimes tho, she would be going down stairs to grab some water and she would see your figure just down the hall, eyes shining in the shadows as your head quickly turned to look at her, making it even more creepy. She stares at you for a few moments before slowly going back up without her water.

• That would keep happening until she just got used to it and started having midnight snacks with you, even falling asleep with you curled up around her in the couch, she suffers from insomnia and your presence makes her fall asleep easier, but she always wakes up earlier than you so you're always alone in the couch by the morning.

• Stills thanks you thought, in a way no one hears, she's too embarrassed to admit to everyone she has trouble sleeping but you don't mind keeping it a secret, especially when she's being way nicer to you.

𖤓Alastor

• Finds you amusing, I imagine him being rather surprised when he first saw you demonstrate your more animal side, probably thinking at first that you were stupid or something.

• He already likes to mess with Husker, treating him like an actual pet so you would be no different, you may not own your soul to him but living under the same roof means having to deal with his annoying treatment towards you.

• Would pull you around with him and present you to people as if you were his actual pet, ordering you around and making you fetch things for him. And he always talks with you in the most forced cute voice ever, now you get why Husker hates this guy.

• If you ever try to intimidate him by pretending you're going to bite him or something along those lines he'll simply give you a stern look and a slightly more forced smile before saying something along the lines of “What a fiesty one.”. To put it simple, he likes to make your life miserable and there's no way to get rid of him.

𖤓Husker

• He's also technically a animal, he looks more like a cat than he looks human at least and had to deal with controlling his instincts as well, he understand your struggles and will be there to help you control them.

• If your sinner form was more cat-like than he would find it easier to teach you but has advices for other animal related demon forms as well, he makes sure you feel good with yourself.

• But a few of his own animal behaviors would show up by default because you're there. He would rub his face against your arms, his ears would peark up when he hears your voice and there were multiple ocasions were you two feel asleep curled up around each other.

• But you do similar stuff as well so he feels less pathetic when letting his cat side win for a few minutes. Just never dare to talk about how he purrs around you, he'll have your head if you do so.

𖤓Angel

• He enjoys annoying you and making bad sexual jokes about your behavior (like calling you a pussy out of nowhere or something along those lines). He also totally would play pranks that would awaken your more animalistic side.

• Like, I imagine you're literally just chilling on the lobby's couch and then suddenly there's one of those cat lasers moving all around the place and you can't help but chase it around while he's laughing loudly in the background.

• Takes photos of you when you're not looking, but not normal distracted photos, he only takes them when you're doing something embarrassing. The only sweet photos he has of you are the ones you're with Fat Nuggets, be with him sleeping in your lap or just playing with him.

• Would probably buy you a dog-collar for your birthday as a prank, but it actually looks kind nice, being all decorated and having you name in the pendant so if you somehow don't feel too embarrassed to use it he would give you a sly smile before coming back to do whatever he does normally.

𖤓Niffty

• If you have any animal characteristics she'll totally stop everything she's doing to play with your tail/ears/wings or whatever you have, you're a walking fluff ball for her.

• Would insist on helping you bathe, she actually knows ways that not even you knew to keep your hair and fur/wings clean and soft. She would make sure you're all cleaned up.

• Would be more than pleased to receive dead animals if you bring them to her. She would make them onto furniture around the hotel and her room or just turn part of them into accessories.

𖤓Sir Pentious

• Secretly finds you adorable, like, have you seen the way he looked at Kiki when she sat on his lap? He's a total sucker for animals but pretends he isn't.

• You can catch his pupils growing bigger and his eyes shine while he looks at you do anything that resembles a small animal, like stretch yourself, get a sudden burst of energy or sit in high places at the hotel, he tries to play it cool when he notices you’re looking at him but is terrible at hiding that he was staring.

• Would build things for you if you asked him, sometimes without you even asking, for you to put out those animal instincts in more healthier ways insitead of on the hotel, and would keep it a total secret, he doesn't want to make you embarrased.

• He would ask, in a very timid way if he can pet you, if you ask why he wants to pet you he would probably say something among the lines of: “B-because I'm petting EVERYONE HERE!”

𖤓Lucifer

• He loves animals, he helped create some of them back in the days when he was still in heaven so he has a special place in his heart for them, if your sinner form has animal characteristics you can be sure he'll be orbiting around you in pure bliss.

• Asks you a lot of questions on how your body works, what's your diet, how much time it took for you to adjust, even more personal questions, he's kinda oblivious to the fact that you may be uncomfortable with them, he's just so curious (even more if you so happen to have a sinner form similar to a bird).

• Would have a special area designed just for you in his Apple Tower in the hotel where you like to hang out for a big part of the day, watching him build his ducks or anything else he's feeling like building that day. He eventually breaks the silence between him and you when he has a new question to ask but tries to let you be as much as possible.

• When you do anything that he remotely finds adorable, he will start talking in those sweet voices that you use to talk to pets or babies, he's not treating you like an actual animal, he just can't contain his adoration for your behaviors to himself, don't worry, he won't talk to you like that in public, not after he notice how uncomfortable you looked in front of the others. He'll save his reactions for when you two are just by yourselfs.

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skyeslittlecorner · 4 months

Note

can i request relationship hcs with the avisos boys? i really liked the ones u did for the hades demons even though i dont like any of them that much after chapter 5 lmao 😭

Do I see our favourite family? 👀 Here we go! The scenario will be similar, but we will change the topic a bit. Hades had a ball, and here let's welcome a new fluffy member of the family.

This turned out to be longer than I planned, I hope you don't mind. I just love these guys too much-

꧁:･ ✡ ･:꧂

Bael circled his own Bermuda Triangle - kitchen, office, bedroom. You knew his daily schedule perfectly, you knew when he woke up, when he fell asleep at his desk, and when to get out of his way so as not to fall victim to his legendary cookies.

You quietly opened the door to his bedroom, the first rays of sunlight falling on the dug-out bedding. Bael looked so peaceful. He was sleeping deeply, his broad shoulders rising and falling with his breath, the muscles on his chiseled back twitching as he dreamed something. Despite his tight uniform, you rarely had this view as his back was covered by his cape and the chair. You came closer and combed blond hair which was scattered on the pillow.

“You know I hate waking you up.” You whispered, hoping he wouldn't hear. Just as you were getting up, you felt a firm grip on your waist.

“I'm awake…”

“Mm. Of course." He looked so adorably sleepy that you crouched down next to him and tapped him on the nose. “You should rest some more. Avisos can handle itself for an hour or two.”

He lifted an eyelid as if he was thinking about what you said. You tried to leave again, but he pulled you towards him. Despite being sleepy, he had a strong grip. You landed on his bare chest, radiating warmth and the smell of fresh bedding.

“This isn't sleeping.”

"It is." He wrapped his arms around you tightly, murmuring into your hair. “I have to be sure that I will get up soon... and that my alarm clock won’t run away.”

“I can sneak out as silently as a cat!”

“You probably haven't seen Hell’s cats.”

He kissed the top of your head, and before you could respond properly, you felt his breathing slow down. He was sleeping, so you kissed him on the lips for good dreams. Avisos can handle itself, and you in your boredom came up with a brilliant idea.

꧁:･ ✡ ･:꧂

Naberius looked at you like you were crazy when you told him what was on your mind. You were walking down the aisles of the pet store, right between toys shaped like angel wings or fetch pitchforks. You put into his basket one by one what looked the least poisonous and suspicious to you.

“Did I understand correctly… Do you want to adopt a cat?”

“Not me, us.” You made it clear. “He will live with you in the palace.”

He didn't look happy.

“Cat.”

You reached out and scratched his chin. He tried to be strong, but then he leaned his head back and his lips twitched happily from the petting.

“Yes, kitten. Because I already have the best puppy in the world here, with me. You will take care of him, right?”

“Maybe… He will have to be brought up so that he does not disturb Bael at work.”

He tried to be strong, but you knew he couldn't say no to you. And in addition to the cat food (at least you hoped it was cat food), you discreetly added a collar that would go well with the black glasses and red horns.

꧁:･ ✡ ･:꧂

Amon helped you put out the pet shopping and arrange the room so that it would be ready for a new little roommate. He sat cross-legged in the corner, between the cat lounger and the food bowl, and read the instructions for the small water fountain you had just assembled. He clicked a few buttons and water began gushing from above and pouring down to the lower levels.

“Did you know it's a bird fountain?”

“It's also suitable for a cat.”

His legs looked so comfortable. You couldn't resist. You brazenly placed yourself on his lap and wrapped your arms around his narrow waist, completely distracting him from the instructions. He hugged you tightly and started purring like a kitten himself.

“Nabe said he would help me raise her, but you all will be definitely switching places. After all, if you have patrols, you won't always be in the castle.”

Amon stroked your cheek. He completely forgot about shopping, and water from the waterer he turned on was spilling onto the floor. You tried to turn it off, but it splashed you in the face. As you snorted water, he quickly corrected the wobbly structure.

"Be careful, love, that's not how it's done. Come on, I'll help you.” He cooed, wiping your wet face gently. “Maybe I should fix it?”

“That's probably a better idea.”

You agreed, but when he leaned towards you with his love-struck smile, you wanted to forget about the waterer and pull him down to the carpet with you in a deep kiss.

꧁:･ ✡ ･:꧂

Stolas was your companion whom you took to the shelter. Despite your excitement, you tried to remain calm. You just didn't know why he kept boasting about how he would defeat any beast you chose, but everything became clear when you arrived. The enclosure where the animals roamed looked more like a coliseum full of wild beasts than a meadow with cute kittens. The smallest of them made Earth's lions look like meerkats.

“Just show me who to beat for you!” Stolas rubbed his hands together with aggressive excitement. “Who makes you sad?”

You sighed in resignation.

“I thought they were smaller. When I was shopping with Amon, all the things we bought… were smaller.”

“So it's Amon's fault? I knew. I'll kill him!"

"Wait!" You placed your hands on his chest as he was already turning around to find another devil. “I thought I could have a cat in the palace… but I see they are too big.”

He looked closely at your disappointed face, then pursed his lips.

“If you like animals, I can take you to an owl cafe.”

If he wanted to cheer you up, he made it. You tilted your head with interest.

“Will you turn into an owl yourself?”

"NO!"

You hoped he was lying. You needed a fluffy ball to cuddle up to. Either way, your mood improved significantly as you left the coliseum filled with beasts for a cozy cafe full of cooing birds.

꧁:･ ✡ ･:꧂

You were sitting at your desk, finishing writing down financial reports you wanted to help the Baels with. You've almost come to terms with the fact that you won't have a kitten when Beelzebub stormed into your room without warning. You stared at him with question marks on your face.

"I have something for you!"

His presence hadn't even dawned on you yet, and there was already a cardboard box on the table. He handled it surprisingly gently. Put it down slowly, as if there were porcelain tableware inside, even though it looked solid. It was a strange box, making sounds through tiny holes on the sides.

Beelzebub stood behind you, resting his elbows on your shoulders and folding his arms over your chest.

“Go ahead, you should check it out, I'm sure you'll like it…” He trailed off when, instead of reaching into the box, you took his hands.

“I'd rather have you than welcome gifts, you know?”

He fell silent for a moment. You couldn't see his face, but his voice had softened noticeably.

“You'll like this one. I promise. Open up, don't make her wait.”

You had a feeling you knew what you would find, and it makes you ticklish inside. When you lifted the lid, a pair of coal-black eyes stared at you from a fluffy muzzle. Kitten. A small, striped, earthly kitten. Your voice stuck in your throat as you squeezed Beel's hands tighter.

"How did you know…!"

“I'm everywhere and hear everything, baby.” He reached out and grabbed the kitten by the nape, just like its mother would. Little pet started meowing.

“Gentler!” You smacked him and took the fluffy ball in both hands. “Is this how you treat your new daughter?”

“My daughter?”

"Yes. Now that you have a baby, you have to visit us more often, you know?”

He leaned down and nuzzled his nose into your shoulder.

“As soon as this is all over.” He promised in a whisper so quiet it might as well have been your imagination. “I will never leave you again. I promise.”

You held the purring kitten to your chest with one hand and stroked Beel's soft hair with the other. Despite his giddiness, you felt that these were not idle words. Your heart sank at the thought that he missed you too. Whatever was going to end, let it end quickly, because all you wanted was to go to sleep next to him, knowing that you wouldn't wake up in an empty bed.

#whb #what in hell is bad #whb bael #whb naberius #whb amon #whb stolas #whb beelzebub #skye's little talk

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hwanchaesong · 12 days

Text

━⁠☞🍽️ Sixth Course: You've always wished for him the best life could offer. But what if you are the best that the universe could ever offer to him? Be salty enough, you guess? 🥢

🎧: Olivia Rodrigo - Happier

wc: 678

genre & warnings: angst, fluff if u squint, lovers to exes to friends, Yeji from ITZY, etc etc

a/n: this is a part of The Sour Restaurant series. if y'all want, you can read the other album inspired fics of other groups here.

"Look! It's adorable! Do you think Mingi will like this?" the girl squeals, grabbing a lilac sweater and showing it to you.

You examined the fabric, and somehow, it made you remember the exact clothing that Mingi prefers.

Gray. Cotton. Oversized.

Still, Mingi will appreciate the thoughtful gift.

"Yeah, he'll love it. Especially since you bought it." you smile, and the girl jumps excitedly, immediately buying the sweater before clinging to you.

"Thank you so much for accompanying me." Yeji hooks her arm with yours, happily skipping in the mall and you can only give her a weak smile.

"It's no problem, really. I'm glad that I can help you." you mumble, laughing a bit when she whines about how helpful you are.

Lies.

Who on earth would feel any ounce of joy when the current girlfriend is asking the ex-girlfriend to help her with picking a gift.. for the man that was once yours and now her boyfriend.

You suppose that it's normal (self gaslight), since you and Mingi broke up mutually, and you two are in the same circle of friends.

The romantic aspect of your relationship was long gone but the camaraderie remains.

It was a well-thought decision on both sides, for the sake of your friends and family, to be casual with each other with no hard feelings.

It was fine and all, until he got a new girl.

You have to bear the pain of watching him be a better, or best, version of himself simply because he is utterly in love with her.

Her being Yeji.

As much as you wanted to hate her, you can't.

Not only is she pretty, but she's also very mature.

When you first met her and she learned that you and Mingi were exes, the way she handled the information was excellent. You explained to her the situation and the agreement, and she was very understanding.

She embraced you fully, accepting you like a sister. She showed you kindness, basically an angel sent from heaven to grace you with blessings. No jealousy, no hostility, only pure intentions.

You hated the way Mingi smiles at her adoringly, his eyes crinkling with affection with the same valor that was once reserved for you.

You hated it whenever Mingi did things for Yeji that he failed to do during your relationship.

But you hated it the most whenever it was shoved in your face that Mingi had found someone new but you still haven't.

You have been replaced so easily while you continuously find it difficult to love again.

The bottom line of all these though, is the fact that you can't hate Yeji.

She has been nothing but a good friend to you. She supported you when you needed it the most, gave you gifts, and she even tried to make you date when you spilled to her the ever growing insecurity of wanting to be with someone again.

You don't despise it when she handed the gift to Mingi, said man happily accepted it then proceeded to give her a loving kiss.

Loathe is not an emotion you harbor but rather... melancholy.

When Yeji turned to you with a proud smile, you had no choice but to act like everything was okay.

You watch her whisper to Mingi, then he turns to you to give you a thumbs up, to which you roll your eyes at him before doing the same thing.

You did wish for him to lead a life of rainbows and flowers, but you weren't ready to witness it.

You did pray for him to meet someone but not so soon, as it gives you a sense of bitterness that the gods listen to you when you pray for someone, but never to you since you are always facing some sort of a challenge before completely having the things that you wanted.

A sigh escapes your lips as your eyes follow the joyful couple.

Selfish yes, but somehow, you hoped that paradise wouldn't come so effortlessly for them unless a storm comes in first.

taglist:

@acciocriativity @iarayara @stolasisyourparent @xdannix @nsixns @heartssol @vixensss @shakalakaboomboo

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ch4osworld · 4 months

Text

THE PASSENGER

A Lucifer x fem!reader ff

This is my first time writing a fanfiction, or writing in general plus my native language isn't english so sorry for any mistake! Critiques are welcome as long as they are respectful and reblogs and comments are well liked! I am planning to make this a series so tell me if you like it!

Words:1509

You were in the garden of Eden, long (h/c) hair flowing behind you. That's when you were created, when you begun living. You were made to be the first wife of the man Adam. You truly loved him, at least you thought you did, you did everything he told you, always being good...then why were you taken and put into heaven?Why did you have to be taken away by your one true love?You stood there, confused, scared even, with only your long hair covering your nudity. That's when you met him, an oh so wonderful and stunning angel, Lucifer was his name. He dressed you, took care of you, cared about you. It didn't take long for you to catch feelings for him. What was a lady supposed to do when some handsome was so caring to you, so touchy even. You still remember the times he took you flying with him, the look of adoration he gave you, it was just you two, flying in the sky peacefully. The comfort he would give you, his touch always lingered on your skin, oh how you wanted him to hold you like that forever.

You stood there, high in heaven, observing Adam, the one that was supposed to be you husband, with another woman. Lilith was her name, how could he do this to you? Did he not love you? No you were sure he did. But if you were so sure then why did tears start falling from your eyes? Why did you start crying like that? You felt horrible. If the man that was supposed to love you for eternity didn't want you, who would have? You hear rustling behind you, and that's when he came: "Y/n? Are you ok?" You didn't respond to him, you didn't have the strength to, you felt so embarassed, you were so vulnerable,what would he think of you now: "Oh sweetheart what happened to you? Who hurt you? Please don't cry I hate seeing you like this. I know that whatever the problem is we can deal with this togheter" and there again, the usual hold he would give you in those moments. He treated you with such a care, you felt bad for him. You used all your strength to mutter some shaky words: "Why is he with another woman, who is she?" He answered, holding you closer to him: "Dear, is this really the problem that's taunting you every day? Don't be sad, please, trust me he doesn't deserve your love. He doesn't deserve you! You are the most wonderful woman I have ever laid my eyes upon, it's not your fault he doesn't see your beauty. It's not your fault he doesn't love you". You sobbed back: "No, no he does love me. I was made for him he surely dose. He just doesn't understand it yet". He watched you with compassion as he kept comforting you.

Lucifer, or Luci, as you would always call him, always talked to you about all his plans and ideas. You never understood them much, you were too naive, too dumb and stupid to understand, but you would always support him through it no matter what. You always encouraged him to expose his ideas, you were his number 1 supporter. You loved him oh so much, you always did and you always will. Nothing would have prepared you to the day he got casted down from heaven, and with Lilith too. Not only have you lost the one you REALLY loved, he loved someone else too, the same one that stole Adam away from you. Damn Lilith, if only you were as pretty, if only you were so captivating maybe it would have been you who got casted down with him. After that you came back to the life at Eden, becoming Adam's wife again, but you couldn't be happy, not when Lucifer was gone for good, you longed for his grasp once again, and so, you did the unimaginable, you decided to fall down for him. You always liked to explore places, you saw a lot of heaven, it was bound that you eventually found the entrance to hell. You were afraid, but your love for him guided you into the pits of that horrendous place. You did it for him, and him only. you jumped and fell for who knows how long. You landed in a place full of Sakura trees, it was beautiful, absolutely stunning. The petals on the ground where as soft as snow and it was so calm you could easily fall asleep in there. You didn't have the time to savor the space you were in at the time. Too focused on the pain all over your naked body. You couldn't give up yet, you had to find him, you had to find Lucifer. You were trying to move from the ground, to get up peraphs, that's when he found you.

Lucifer was relaxing among the trees when he heard a loud thud. Startled, he went checking what the source of the sound was, and that's when he saw you: "What the- Y/n? Is that really you? Oh god what have you done! Why are you in here? Are you hurt? Here let me help you dear" he got you dressed and picked you up, you could hear the hurt in his voice as he murmured you comforting words and whys: "I am sorry, I didn't know what I was thinking. I missed you Luci, I missed you so much I just wanted to see you again" you cried to him. He replied: "Please don't apologize, there is nothing for you to be sorry about. I am just glad you are with me again, I missed you so much, you know?Don't worry sweetheart, me and my wife will take care of you, we will teach you all about this place. Oh there is so many things I have to tell you! Lilith will be super happy knowing she can finally put a face to the name, she always wanted to know you!"

Right....Lilith

It took you a lot to adjust to the situation, and Lucifer and Lilith being all lovey dovey didn't help you one bit. You were forced to see them togheter, you lived with them after all. It isn't that you had any place to go other then his castle. You enjoyed living in there, and you savored all the alone moments you had with him, but oh it hurt you so much, but if you really loved him, you'd let him go, so you kept staying with them as your heart broke and shatteted more, the longer you were with them. The thing you didn't know though is that you weren't the only one suffering from all of this .

Lucifer's pov

As he brought his friends to his castle, his heart was flooded with a torrent of emotions, absorbing his every being. The flames of love once felt for her burnt with a passion he never felt before in his life, peraphs that flame never extinguished. As y/n lived there, his life had changed in an unimaginable way, as he lived in a never ending desperation. A desperation born from the knowing that his heart belonged eternally to his wife, but every quick glances, every alone time spent with y/n, served as a poignant reminder of his unceasing adoration for you. Yet, in the depths of his agony, he found solace in the the devotion and trust he vowed to always give to his wife, that he would never betray her, not when she lived an oh so happy life with him by his side. There was no other choice, he must let you go.

Y/n's pov

The more you learnt about hell the more you felt confident navigating it's depths of your own. You began forming a sense of identity, you started to know yourself, something you were never permitted to do in Eden, you even dared to cut your beautiful, long hair. You didn't like them, they held too many harrowing memories you needed to let go of. Your free spirit was finally able to show itself, the decisive step happened when you decided to leave his castle for good. The agony you felt seeing them togheter becoming unbearable to you. You ventured into the steppes of hell, explored all you had to see, seeked every secret of it. Your hunting never stopping, as the inferno kept increasing in size. The more it got bigger, the more you wanted more, you soon got hungry for it, and you ate all your discoveries. You didn't have a home, you'd rather sleep and get food from the people of this place, also making the usual visit to Lucifer and Lilith. It didn't take long for the demons to get used to you, you also managed to make a few friends. Only a select few knew your real name, the majority of people simply called you

The Passenger.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #fem!reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x reader #hazbin lucifer #lucifer morningstar x reader

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al1fers-haven · 2 months

Note

Platonic hazbin hotel cast and gn!teen!reader with the personality of loona from helluva boss 👀

It could be a list of hcs or a oneshot. Either way is fine ^^

Hazbin Hotel x GenZ!Reader Headcannons

Imma do this as headcannons because...I can't really find any storyline for this lol CHARLIE

one of the things that Charlie seemed to actually figure out the most was why you were so moody lol, she went through that emo phase too but...yours was sticking a bit too long to be a phase.

She had mentioned a couple times that they were going to focus on your issues separately to keep you from feeling bad, but she never actually went for it. Scared it would set you off a bit.

outside of that, she thought you were adorable, treating you more like a younger sister than a normal hotel attendee.

Sees more of herself in you than she would like to admit, and doesn't truly understand why you are in hell but...she doesn't push.

VAGGIE

Oh god, you and vaggie DO NOT MIX. It's one thing to put two demons together, but Vaggie already acts like a depressed teen at times.

She doesn't really...demand respect but she tries to act motherly towards you and just fails miserably.

You think she is trying to be controlling because you are younger and don't know as much.

Genuinely thinks you can be redeemed, and that if anyone has shot at it, it would be you.

Despite the fact you two don't get along, you come to her for some issues that you know she would be good with, like trying to get better and maintain friendships. that doesn't happen often tho.

You and her mixed is awful for boardgames too, talk about competitive.

You and her definitely got a lot of bad blood on, especially if you get all mean with charlie and yell.

ANGEL DUST

Oh god, it's a beautiful friendship.

You and angeldust get along more than needed, despite both being assholes at times, you both love each other and think a lot of one another.

You are usually the one taking care of him (along with Husk) Whenever he gets too rowdy at clybs, not only that but he takes care of you when you are unstable as well.

You don't do well with men, or any sort of family figure that is a man so as much as you try you always blow up.

You deeply care for the spider porn star but sometimes your personality makes it harder than you'd like. And he is one of the people inside the hotel that understands this the most, it's what you guys bonded over.

LOVES YOUR ATTITUDE.

He thinks your absolutely hilarious and wishes that when he was your age he had half the courage to say the shit you say. Watching you tell Alastor he was a braindead prick? Oh it made his day.

But that worried him a little bit, while he was happy you hadn't been roped into any sort of deal or contract, he was worried you'd say something to the wrong person. And if you ever did he would be there in a heartbeat

you two usually get drunk together since he doesn't want you going to any bars alone (Which you hate, but understand) So he won't help you with the hangover, but he will be right next to you throwing up in the sink as you throw up in the toilet :) HUSK

If you had to have a father bond with anyone? It would be Husk. He refuses to give you drinks for no reason and even has late-night talks with you.

scolds you for not being careful and respecting yourself, and usually just sits there as you yell at him till you say something truly horrible to him.

(Which isn't a lot, this guy can take more than he admits.)

But at the end of the day, he's there to give you advice and let you ramble on about the shitty stuff going on in your life,

hell he even lets you drink if it's truly bad

he's more scared of you ending up like him than you getting drunk young, you are in hell.

definitely helps you to bed and takes care of you when you are drunk or after you are drunk. Seems like the type to have a soft spot for emotionally troubled drunk teens. ALASTOR

Oh god, he hates you.

if it wasn't for the fact you were a part of the hotel or one of Charlie's favorites. He would have killed you by now due to the comments you threw at him.

He couldn't tell who he would rather be in a room with, velvette? Or you.

Despite all of that he had an open mind to your behavior, understanding you were an emotional teen.

but that did NOT make the whole 'fossil' joke suddenly funny to him.

You two have bonded over a couple things, suits, food, and your insomnia. At the end of the day you still hated each other.

But he would totally cover you up if you fell asleep on the couch or something like that.

If you listen to his radio show he actually might start being nice to you, he's a sucker for teens as well. Especially if you are a girl.

DEFINITELY IMAGINE DEADPOOL AND THE SUPERSONIC GIRL FROM THE FIRST MOVIE.

"So what's it going to be? Mean comment? Or long sullen silence." "....you got me in a corner here." NIFTY

you two were an odd duo, usually, you sat through her horrible roach puppet shows and tried to hype her up, but in the end, you just couldn't.

she still appreciated you watching them and not booing.

Definitely tries not to get on your bad side, but ends up being annoying on accident,

you can't be mad at her though... SIR PENTIOUS (or however you spell it.)

This man obviously had cried multiple times because of your attitude and yelling.

He is a softy at heart, and you try to feel bad but he just makes it so easy.

the snake jokes are never-ending, especially if you two decide to form a bond? but I doubt that would ever happen...man is sensitive.

Didn't catch him during the trust fall, instead gagged about how slimy he was and called him a rude name.

Might make a part 2 to this, it's adorable

#hazbin charlie #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin art #angeldust #charlie morningstar #husker hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fandom #sir pentious #nifty hazbin hotel #hazbin nifty #nifty

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comradekatara · 3 months

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Wkfndjfske I FORGOT KATARA BULLIES TOPH ABOUT BEING BLIND. Like I know she's a problematic icon and a complex character who undergoes a lot of growth but I truly genuinely did forget that she was also a fourteen year old girl who Toph called sugar queen for very good reason. The specifics fade into the background after so many years and so many of her worse moments are because she is acutely hurt and defensive and also a teenager. Whereas this is just her being a teenager and lashing out because of being socially insecure, which isn't usually her wheelhouse. I'm constantly impressed by how well written she is!!!!

i know right!!!!! i love katara so much (duh) bc she's like the most realistically-written fourteen year old girl of all time. and it's so funny to me how people who refuse to acknowledge that she has flaws (despite the fact that she is of course so eminently and beautifully flawed) will simply dig their heels in if you cite any instances wherein she does something mean or out of line and they'll be like "no she was right and morally justified actually because the person she was talking to was being an asshole and victimizing her [katara voice] personally and so she wasn't being mean she was right 100% of the time and always justified and morally correct actually you just hate her and want her dead" because that's like. exactly how katara thinks. they're just subscribing to her logic (thee ultimate fourteen year old little sister logic) and then deciding that she must be correct because she thinks she's always correct and if she's always right then she is. and i find that kind of endearing because i do cherish katara and do always understand where she is coming from even when she's wrong but like. she is not an irreproachable angel who is always justified in her rage and vitriol. she is a realistically fallible teenager who is in a lot of pain and fucks up a lot and has a tendency to dig her heels in when she's wrong. and that's something i absolutely adore about her!!!! so it's really such a shame that so many people who claim to love her will put her on a pedestal and blindly agree with everything she says and does, because it's a really reductive way to engage with her character, and it's also just plain dehumanizing to reduce such a rich and nuanced character into "girl whose actions should always be taken at face value because she is simply a vehicle onto which we can project our owns thoughts and feelings." i mean, didn't you know that stripping her of all her agency and making her a flawless site of projection (usually for shipping purposes) is feminist actually?? and if you ever point out her flaws (even in a loving, celebratory, or humorous way) it's because you hate women??? didn't you know that feminism is when women don't have flaws they have to learn and grow from, and instead just kind of sit there??????? which is, incidentally, how you get the trash fire that is natla. anyway. i love katara so much, but i really do hate it here -_-

#estra-die-ol #asks #katara #the way she treats toph is sooooo fascinating #but ppl tend to ignore the less palatable things she does bc they dont wanna admit that her rage is not always 100% morally justified .....#lol. lmfao even

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