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#illuminated tent
mizar113 · 1 year
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with3ringh3ights · 10 months
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How it started
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How it’s going
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Depressed little shit turned back into (still depressed) little shit that hides his suffering with jokes.
TD!Leo belongs to @/s0fti3w1tch
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theorphicangel · 5 months
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thinking about collegebf!gojo staying over for the night, constantly complaining about your single size bed.
“stop kicking me.”
“m’not kicking you.”
“Yes, yes you are satoru, don’t even try to deny it.” You huff, grumbling into your pillow.
“Is it my fault that you have a small ass bed?” Gojo exclaims, “I can’t even turn over right, I’ll pull a muscle.”
“leave then.”
your bedroom fills with immediate silence as soon as the words leave your mouth. your stomach nearly drops, regret creeping across your skin. you’ve only been dating satoru for a few months but you’ve known him for years and can already predict his reactions when it comes down to situations like this.
there’s two possible ways he could take this. one: he could turn into a brat and actually leave, giving you the silent treatment until you guilt trip him into talking to you by buying him sweet cinnamon buns for breakfast. or two: he plays along and actually ends up kicking you out…of your own bed.
awaiting his response you whisper his name tentatively.
“satoru—“
“take it back.”
“or what?” you tease, despite there is anxiety in your tone.
“fine then.”
Satoru sits up and reaches for his phone on your bedside table, immediately his fingers start typing, you watch him silently as he scrolls.
your mind gushes over the possible things he’s doing on his phone. finding ways to break up with you? Texting someone to pick him up? Ordering an Uber to leave?
the thought of it makes the regret take control over your whole body.
“I take it back!” you exclaimed suddenly, your arms wrapping around him, securing him tightly so he can’t leave. “m’sorry,” you kiss him between your speech,”don’t leave me — I’ll buy — you all the cinnamon— buns that you want.”
“whoa, whoa, whoa, who said anything about leaving? If anything we’re leaving together.”
“we?” you repeat.
“I’m looking for one bedroom apartments with a double bed.” He emphasises on the last part, “m’ getting sick of these dorm rooms.”
“wait really? you want to—“ you pause, swallowing thickly as the words come out of your throat.
“you want to live together?”
Gojo looks up, the glow of his phone screen illuminating his face.
“Of course baby, unless you don’t want to?”
“I do!,” you say exasperatedly, “I want to. I just didn’t think…”
“what?”
“well, right now? we don’t even have any—
“shhh—“ satoru presses a finger to your lips, “don’t start worrying that sweet little head of yours sweetheart, I’ve got it all figured out.”
you frown, pulling away his hand, “don’t sign anything without letting me see it first satoru” you warn.
“or course!” He says, “what do you take me to be, an idiot?
“sometimes.”
satoru glances up at you, his expression declares full offence. this is the moment where he’d choose to get up and leave but thankfully your sweet lips play as a smart distraction.
“but you’re my idiot, satoru, and I wouldn’t want to be with anyone else.”
“would you still buy me all the cinnamon buns-“
“no.”
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader
From the request HERE
Fandom: Call of Duty
Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader
Summary: Only a few more days are left of his short leave and Simon is determined to make every last second count with you. What better way to start the day than buried in between your thighs, helping you wake up by the feeling of his tongue alone and then overstimming you.
Word Count: 4.6 k
Warnings:
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The sun has just started to peek itself through the small gap in the blinds covering the window, illuminating the bedroom in enough light that it causes Simon to stir awake with the first signs of life as those brown eyes flutter a few times from the brightness until he comes back into consciousness. Rubbing his bare chest and scratching at the patch of hair on his lower abdomen as he rolls over onto his side to face the other body lying peacefully asleep, his breath hitches at the sight that he’s greeted with. 
Your long eyelashes rest delicately against your cheek, your chest slowly rising and falling with your deep, calm inhales and exhales as you still drift mindlessly through your dreams. The covers that are pulled up to your breasts conceal your naked form lying just underneath and the way they cling to your form allows him to follow the contours of your body through the fabric. You are a fucking picture of peaceful beauty.
Damn, you are so perfect he cannot look away and suddenly there is a tenting forming beneath the covers still wrapped around his lower half. It’s not his fault; how is he supposed to keep himself restrained when this is what he gets to wake up to? An ache situates itself in his chest, a gnawing blooming in his stomach to caress all that flawlessness. It is a hunger that only grows stronger the more he gazes until he is compelled to get up.
There are only so many days left in the short bit of leave he has and he wants to make every single second count. That’s why you both find yourselves naked even as you sleep; he needs his body to memorize the way yours feels against his and he needs to fuck you whenever the moment strikes, so there is no sense in wasting any amount of time with superfluous things when you both are about to go months without seeing one another. And right now that is working to his benefit as he wants to shower you with some extra attention to start the day.
Just a taste won’t hurt, he thinks, knowing full well that once he starts there is no stopping. Just till she wakes up.
He moves out from the warmth at your side as carefully as he can to ensure that his movements don’t wake you, not yet. The blanket slips from his unclothed hips as he shifts up onto his knees and positions himself over you, his hands atop the mattress on either side of your body so that he can push himself down your sleeping form while his lips take advantage of all that uncovered skin. Feathery light kisses trail down across the supple flesh of your breasts and over your soft torso as his hot mouth presses delicately into you in adoration for all this beauty that he gets to have all to himself. 
All these curves, all this smooth, voluptuous skin always ready for him to caress, it is enough to drive him insane.
Muscles ripple through his bare back as he continues down the line of your body, inching slowly so as not to miss any patch of flesh. He is careful not to drag his face too harshly as he goes along so that the stubble on his jaw won’t prick your skin, opting instead to pick his head up off you as he moves only to lower it back down at the next spot ready to receive his attention. Your skin is heated from being snuggled down in the bed and it invites him to nuzzle his nose into it as he goes.
Simon eventually reaches the edge of the covers that have fallen around your waist from him getting up and he has to lift them out of the way to reveal the rest of your gorgeous body to his yearning mouth. Rolling them back at a leisurely pace, he makes sure not to reveal too much so the cooler air outside of the blanket doesn’t have a chance to make you uncomfortable until the warmth from his lips can keep the skin flushed. Over the curve of your waist, your stomach, your hip bones he places his steamy kisses. It is when he gets to your belly button that the anticipation finally hits him that he is getting closer to his favorite spot: that beautiful place in between your thighs.
The mattress creaks under his weight as he arrives at the foot of the bed so that he can remove the covers and push them off your legs. He can feel his cock throb as he pulls them back and finds what he’s always pining for. A heavy exhale falls from his lips and his mouth begins to salivate as he catches that first glimpse of your legs laying splayed open and that sweet little pussy just there waiting for his mouth to embrace.  
Simon can’t ever get his fill of it and God, he needs it so bad now that he sees it again. For a split second he thinks about making his movements more pronounced to wake you up, but a sudden intrusion of an idea makes him stop. You had mentioned recently that you were wanting to try something, to be woken up with his tongue lapping against your clit. What kind of man would he be if he never indulged his sweetheart’s fantasies? Today seems as good a day as any to make your dreams come true, not that he ever needs an excuse to get lost in all that goodness between your legs. 
There are times when he is so ravenous for your cunt that nothing else will even come close to satisfying that beast inside him, but today he doesn’t want it to be about the harsh and rough… well, not yet; this morning is all about making you so delirious and overstimulated off his tongue only that you won’t be able to get out of bed at all and he can keep you all to himself for the entire fucking day.  
Quietly Simon slides himself off the edge of the bed to situate himself kneeling on the carpet so that he can lay his torso on the mattress, giving him a better angle to be able to move in. Your legs are positioned open in such a way that from here he can easily slip his face up in between them and right against you, but he is in no rush. Ever so gently he pins more tender kisses along the soft, supple muscles of your inner thighs, his lips embracing your flesh with silent promises that everything he is fixing to do he is going to do for you only because you deserve it. 
His pretty girl, his sweet thing, so perfectly made as if just for him; fuck, do you make him want to worship the ground you walk on. 
His eyes catch the goosebumps forming under his breath along your body wherever he places his warm mouth and he cannot help but smile at your automatic physical reaction to him. Even in sleep you know his touch and respond to it. 
“My sweet girl,” he whispers in his husky morning voice into your calf as he continues up the length of your leg. “You’re so fuckin’ perfect, so goddamn beautiful. I’m one lucky bastard and I ain’t eva’ gonna forget it.” 
He continues on without hesitation as he slides all the way up until he is right at the threshold of those delicate petals that he wants his mouth on. A moist heat meets his lips as he leans in and places kiss after kiss to them; never has something felt so perfect pressed against him. If Simon could live between your legs permanently, they would never fucking find the man again. 
One of those beefy arms he slips under your leg to prop it up and move it even further out of his way so that he has as much space to work as he needs. Restraining himself from going in fast and heavy isn’t easy, but what he wants is to keep his movements relaxed, not crazed and insatiable like on occasions when he’s had a bad day and just needs to smother against you. No, you deserve the full princess treatment from him and that is what you are going to get. Taking the opposite hand not around your thigh, he uses two of those long, thick fingers to delicately spread apart the lips to get at all that lays in waiting inside.
“There she is,” Simon sighs quietly as he immediately spots that sweet little bean that he desperately wants to suck until it’s swollen and throbbing and then even more until you are coming on his face.
He doesn’t go right for the kill first, instead building the anticipation of your body as he kisses that crease between your petals and your thigh, using his balmy breath to stimulate that sensitive area as he switches sides a few times until he feels you twitch and only then does he continue. Gathering up all the spit in his mouth he collects it on his tongue and presses it through your petals to coat the area until your body can take over. As he pushes that thick muscle into you he catches the sound of a quick rush of air escaping through your nose, followed by a sleepy sigh as you stir.
His movements are tender and intimate, circling the nub with the tip of his tongue and slowly using the pad to make love to your clit. You sigh again heavier this time as you begin to squirm in your sleep the more he strokes, your hips rocking faintly over his face as the sound of your fingers clawing at the fitted sheet is caught. Just a little more stimulation and you aren’t going to be able to stay asleep much longer.
Your quiet, breathy moans become more than whispers now and those amber eyes dart back up to your face over the curves of your body, desperate to watch the subtle changes that ripple across your features as he works at bringing you into consciousness by your pleasure alone so he can witness the very moment you wake. 
There is a brightness on the other side of your shut eyelids as you slowly slip back into the realm of consciousness, the sound of your own muted groans filling the quiet around you along with something else you cannot quite distinguish and it feels like you are still dreaming. Then it hits you: there is a familiar glowing, warm sensation in the pit of your stomach that amplifies as you continue waking. Your eyes flutter open as the sensation is so intense that you can’t ignore it anymore and as you look around to gather your bearings you notice that there is a blonde-haired head rocking undisturbed between your thighs.
As you focus you realize that he is staring right back at you and the corners of his eyes crinkle as you feel his lips upturn against your petals; you know he’s pleased with himself at what he is doing. He doesn’t stop or try to speak, he only tightens his grip around your thigh that he has propped on his shoulder and continues to service your clit with his tongue while he presses his face in tighter so that the pressure adds to the stimulation. 
The sensation is damn near overwhelming now and you realize that he must have been at this for a bit as it feels like you are about to come. Your head falls back heavy against the pillow as your eyes close to allow the feeling to wash over you completely, needy moans unable to be kept under control fill what was once the silence in the room. 
That’s when you feel his lips lock around your clit before he sucks down on it and using the very tip of his tongue he twirls around the bud while his fingers come back into play. He finds your entrances and gently shoves his middle finger inside to rub across your G spot and instantly you can feel your calm shatter into pieces. A euphoric spasm shoots through your entire body, making your limbs start to tingle, and you know by the feeling that it is only a few more moments that remain until you are going to spill.
“Simon, shit…gonna come,” you whimper his name as you grind your head into the pillow. To have so much ecstasy hit you all at once overwhelms you with its intensity and leaves you unable to function. You are about to come, that is all your half-asleep brain can process. 
With a few more strokes of that strong muscle and a few more flicks of his finger resting inside you, the pressure building at the base of your spine and the warmth gathering in the pit of your stomach reach their threshold and you spill over the edge with a strong jolt that causes your back to arch up off the bed as you cry out. The force of it makes you buck against Simon’s face, but he is ready and digs his fingers in full force until his hold on you is so secure that he isn’t going anywhere as you ride out wave after wave of your orgasm that crashes over you like a tidal wave. 
Fuck, what a way to start the day.
In your sleepy, mind-numbed state, you forget just how voracious your military man can be and mistakenly believe that at any moment he is going to emerge from your thighs and come lay beside you…except instead of letting you go, he doesn’t stop. Simon keeps at it, only slowing his pace down to almost nothing, but not pulling away from you. Instead he sneaks quick breaths by tilting his head to the side so that it exposes his nose to the air before he buries it right back in against your now dripping slit. 
“Simon, baby,” you call groggily down to him as you try to wriggle free of his grasp; it’s the only thing you can do to persuade him to release you, “you can take it easy. It’s still early, we got all day.”
Just a second, you need to take a break only so long as to catch your breath.
Simon hears your pleas, but it falls on deaf ears as he does not even budge. His plan is already set in motion and you are not nearly exhausted enough for him to even think about stopping yet. This day needs to stay in the forefront of your mind for at least a few weeks after he leaves and be the specific memory that fuels your desperate masterbating while he’s gone and not able to fix the ache.
“Shh…” he hushes mutedly against you. “I only have a few more days with ya and I wanna give ya my full attention. And this mornin’ I wanna take care of ya. I’m gonna take care a ya so fuckin’ good, baby.”
Is there a way to say no to that? If there is, you can’t find it and don’t want to. Even through the overly sensitive nature of your body right now, you don’t want to deny him a thing, not when he says it like that. And to be honest now that he has you at his mercy, his tongue still stroking along the line of your slit before coming back up to circle the nub, you are starting to want it again too.
Tiny beads of sweat like mist cover over your body as the feeling of Simon’s arms slithering up your torso are felt running through the perspiration, greedy hands searching for your chest without being able to see. Grabbing onto as much of your supple breasts as can fit in his large palms he pinches the nipples and rolls them between his thumb and forefinger to make your heated body burn until you whine out loud as they stiffen at his touch.
“Shi-i-it, Simon,” you say, your speech starting to slur together as the mindless haze floods your thoughts from the activity at your chest that radiates in waves of arousal you can feel throb in your clit. Keep sucking, keep playing with my tits, don’t stop, your mind screams.    
Everything outside this is like a distant memory; your body is floating and your mind drunk as you exist only in a world made of pure ecstasy. Your hand reaches down around his arms across your torso to the back of his head where you can press and push him in tighter to your pussy and you hear Simon hum a deep, contented sigh at the feeling of you forcing him to suffocate even more. 
Tha’s it baby, drown me, he thinks to himself as some feral part of his brain gets activated. 
There is movement in the mattress that shakes your body up and down as Simon begins to grind his aching cock against it, trying to use the friction to relieve some of the pressure in the swollen tip. Hearing your beautiful music while being smothered in your pussy is like a religious experience that is akin to having heaven on earth. 
Your glistening thighs are vibrating around Simon's ears and as each flick of his tongue finds its mark you are brought closer to climaxing again as you spiral into sensory overload. Over and over he engages with your core, his mouth filling with your sweet juices, the tip of his tongue playing in such a way it feels like he is signing his name on his favorite part of you. 
His name is falling from your lips in pathetic whines now as the only word you can recall in the fog of euphoria that you are trapped in. Every inch of you is wrapped in a cold sweat that feels like you’re about to burst into flames, the muscles in your belly contract rigid as the pressure in your spine increases with every stroke.  
Right there, it’s right there. You have to come to release the tension.
And that tightness finally snaps just like that and you come again, this time harsher and more intense than the last. Your thighs lock tightly around Simon’s head as you writhe wildly, your body struggling to take all that immense euphoria that fills up every inch of you.
Lengthy seconds pass as you come back down from that high while the sounds of your whimpers act as a gauge to the man crushed in your leg lock how long he will have left to stay suffocating. Once you settle back down again into the pillows and release his head from your hold does he actually emerge fully to sit up for the first time since he went down. 
Twice is enough, right? For anyone else it would be, but for Simon you know the man is still craving more. He wipes away the accumulation of cum and spit glinting in the morning light off the hairs on his chin onto the sheet he has picked up, a contented grin filling his beautifully stark features as he sets the damp fabric aside and stalks back up onto the bed like a lion ready to pounce. Stray kisses embrace your lower abdomen as he sets himself into position kneeling between your legs. 
“Ya ready for more a’ me, baby?” he asks, though not waiting long enough for an answer before he is gripping into your hips to pull your body down over him until your butt rests on top of his thighs. 
You shake your head back and forth. “Too much, t-too much,” you plead, but that isn’t going to do anything and you know it. He is ravenous.
Simon licks his raw, swollen lips. “But you’re takin’ it all so fuckin’ well. Your legs aren’t even shakin’ that bad yet, sweetheart. Said I was gonna take care ‘a ya good and I think that means ya need more.”
You swallow hard, your throat suddenly dry at the thought of going again. “I can’t…I can’t…” you continue, the back of your head digging into the pillow. His fingers run along your inner thighs to send shockwaves of overwhelming ecstasy shooting up your spine to the top of your head and your mouth struggles to form the rest of the words. “Just give me a minute. Please, Si. I don’t think I can go anymore.” 
“Yes ya can, beautiful; you’re not done,” he grunts with a sharp inhale as he takes your legs in his grip and lifts them up so that he can rest your calves over his shoulders in a way that will strap you to him. Looking down at you through the gap in your legs he flashes a toothy, mischievous grin that has you shivering with anticipation as the heat from his breath rolls over your stomach. “Come on, sweetheart, I know ya ‘ave a little more in ya. You’re gonna take it all for me, yeah? I want ya ta fuckin’ soak me.”
You’re screwed.
Nodding your head in agreement, he immediately leans his face in until his nose can nuzzle against that overstimulated button and your back harshly arches right off the mattress, hands gripping with iron strength into the bundled up sheets you’ve gathered in your fists. Those long, rough fingers holding up your sides drive deeper into your hips so that you can’t slip away from his face while you buck roughly as the movements of his tongue settle back into a steady rhythm again.
So velvety soft, so warm, so moist, it makes his engorged cock throb hard and can feel it prod into your butt. He is overtaken by a desperate, burning need that floods his veins like wildfire; he wants to bury his face even deeper into you as if he is trying to fuse himself with your body. That feeling in him is unleashed in all its fury and he laps at your cunt faster and harder with each passing minute and your already weakened body is overwhelmed. 
“Fuckin’ breathe, sweet thing,” he says in a deep, desperate growl, ripping his face from within you for only long enough to speak the order, as he looks down to see the mixture of pain and pleasure ripple through your brow before he is right back in. 
Hot tears are stinging at the rims of your eyes now as your overly sensitive clit is stimulated again, collecting until they finally break over the edge to stream out from the corners and down over your cheeks. Simon stares at them glinting in crystalline drops as they catch the light from the window before they disappear and gather on the pillow behind your head and goddamn are they so beautiful they nearly stop his heart. 
This is it, this is the one that will do you in and his mission will finally be accomplished. He is pushing your body to its limit of what it can handle and you take it all so gorgeously. To see his sweet thing so out of her goddamn mind is something he hopes will be ingrained in his memory for the rest of his miserable life. 
The heels of your feet dig into the sides of his bare torso until his ribs are stinging under the pinpointed pressure. You don’t know if you have another one in you, but just as the thought burrows into your intoxicated mind you can already feel that gathering warmth in the lower part of your abdomen…except… Something is happening, that feeling of orgasmic pleasure bubbling up in your core is similar, but different. 
“Do ya want me ta stop?” he asks with his mouth full, prompted at the feeling.
You whimper pathetically through the tears spilling from the corners of your eyes; as overwhelming as it is, there is no way in hell you can let him stop now. “No,” you say pitifully as you try to push his head back down tighter against you, “don’t, don’t. Please…oh fuck, fuck!!”
“Good girl,” he growls as he dives right back in like he hasn’t already had you twice now.  
It’s too much, the pressure is overwhelmingly too intense. A deep sense of release more extreme than any orgasm you’ve ever experienced leads to a gushing sensation from between your legs and you throw your head back as you squeal loud as ever as it just keeps coming. Your body shakes and twitches as everything you have is released onto his face for the last time.
“There ya go,” he praises in between breaths as he strokes you through it, stopping once you lay limply in his grip. “Ride it out for me.”
Legs shaking, chest heaving, eyes glazed over, cheeks flushed, Simon lowers you back down from his face and notices that his lap is wet and there is a markedly large wet stain soaking into the sheet under you both now. His face is just as coated and Simon is quick to realize what has happened. 
You can barely move at this point, but still turn your face back towards him to be met with a very happy and content man gazing back at you with those fiery auburn eyes as he wipes at the moisture covering face to clean it.
“Goddamn,” he says with a grin as he emerges from the same sheet he used before, “my pretty girl gettin’ so worked up she fuckin’ squirts on my face. Ya do know how ta fuckin’ treat me right, baby.”
You’ve never experienced anything quite like it before and are surprised that you are even able to do it in the first place, but if anyone could make you do it, it would be him. For a split second you feel a little self-conscious at this new development, but the way that Simon looks at you as if you have just hung the stars makes you giggle from the combination of nerves and adrenaline and settle back down.
He crawls back up the bed and drops down exhausted, but completely satisfied beside you and once he settles he reaches out to pull you into his steamy, heated embrace, skin to skin against his chest. His hand cradles the back of your head as he simply gazes into your eyes until your breathing slows and only then does he finally go in to kiss the last part of you he has left to claim.
His lips meet yours softly, but with the entirety of his passion for you. This is his little slice of paradise that he cannot help but feel lucky to have. Out of all the shit he’s had to deal with in his life, he found you and that means something to him. That’s why things like this he will never mind doing, not for you. Not if it’s to keep you satisfied. 
“Ya know, ya make it so fuckin’ hard for me ta leave,” Simon sighs quietly against your lips as the backs of his coarse fingers caress the delicate skin of your cheek in featherlike strokes. “I gotta make it just as hard for ya. Cause I’m gonna miss ya like hell. Still got two days left; gonna make ‘em count, sweetheart.”
Oh, he will… he definitely will. He always does.
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some-bunniii · 1 month
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Lucifer breaks your deal with Alastor
・❥ Your soul is owned by Alastor, and Lucifer is not pleased about it.
x: OVER 20k words!? strap in ya’ll, it’s a roller coaster.
xx: reader is g/n. no use of y/n. if you want to read it in chapter-form, you can read it over on my ao3 here.
warnings: adult themes, abuse, angst
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‘Alright, deep breaths. You’ve got this. You’ve practiced this so much it’s a cakewalk, so just take it easy. You’ll rock it, like always.’
“Oi! Welcome to the show, ya dirty sinners! Didn’t think ya’d see me all the way up here, did’ja?!”
Screams and cheers echoed from the seats below, as the voice of the King of Greed boomed from the loudspeakers. 
"Well, listen up, ya pitiful souls! I've got a craving for some more cash, so I've decided to bring the whole shebang right here to the heart of sin, Pentagram City!"
The cheering erupted once more, the spotlights danced across the sandy pit underneath the large circus tent. On the perimeter were rows and rows of stands, packed with demons nestled against each other.
It was Mammon’s first circus show in the Pride Ring, a very rare sight to see him leave his cozy little ring in general. But, when a good portion of your fans are sinners who can’t leave without being incinerated, then you have to receive them on their home turf.
In the large pit, two lions jumped obediently through hoops, their handlers shouting commands and cracking their whips to further spur the cat’s maneuvers.
Bright green flame danced around the lion’s faces, resembling that of a large mane. Their eyes were soulless, black pits that glimmered in the bright lights as they continued maneuvers through the tight obstacles.
On the edges of the pit, support poles towered above the crowd. Thin wires snaked across them, anchored to large platforms that hung in the air from the pole’s side.
“As ya can see, we’ve got a big show tah’night! Lots of great fuckin’ acts for ya mongrels to eat up. But, before we get to the juicy bits, direct your eyes up to the ceiling to get a look at our first performance!” 
Hundreds of gazes lifted to sky, the spotlights below beaming upward towards a platform at one end of the tent.
Bright, white lights hit your vision, and you squinted your eyes to prevent them from burning to a crisp from the focused beams.
You stood, your bare feet planted firmly against the platform’s white surface. Before you, a tightrope connected your place to another platform in the distance, beckoning you.
A small hoop hung from the ceiling, encircling a small portion of the wire. The trick was that it was too small for you to stand up straight while walking through it, so you’d need to limbo underneath it.
"As you can see, we've got some sorry sap up there that is about to practically walk on thin air! See that hoop over there? They're fixin' to stroll right through it."
Small ooh’s and ahh’s emanated from the crowd, their eyes darting from you to the hoop.
"But hold your horses, folks! That ain't your run-of-the-mill hoop, no sir! That, my friends, is a hoop on fuckin’ fire!!”
Suddenly, the hoop ignited in a burst of green flames, illuminating the area before you. Gulping, you took another deep breath, steadying yourself.
Okay, well, you knew that was gonna happen. You’ve just never actually practiced with the hoop on fire, but it shouldn’t be too hard.. right?
You nodded to yourself, assuring your racing thoughts that everything was gonna be alright.
The skin-tight suit you were wearing sparkled in the spotlight, dazzling the spectators with a red gleam as you hovered right over the edge of the platform, waving to the crowd. 
You had been performing ever since you could remember, and this was just another part of the job. You weren’t a part of Mammon’s original crew though, only being given the opportunity when they arrived at Pentagram City.
You were a Sinner, which meant being confined to the Pride Ring just like the rest. Fortunately, one of Mammon’s acrobats was too sickly to perform, so when you saw the large poster detailing auditions, you jumped at the opportunity to make some extra bucks.
You had arrived at the settled convoy of vehicles and trailers at the outskirts of the city, you were ecstatic. You hadn’t performed in an actual circus in forever, and the make-shift village of performers and equipment was a fresh sight.
Mammon himself was a… colorful character. He was a hard party rocker with a big ego, and most likely had a swear jar at home overflowing with pennies, with how that guy talked.
You hadn’t really met him when you auditioned, but you could definitely hear him. He was loud, practically demanding everyone’s attention even when he wasn’t addressing them. 
You could hear him yelling about an absent performer, annoyance evident in his voice as he berated an assistant.
"What do ya mean he couldn't make it to practice 'cause he lost his voice? He's a bloody mime, mate! What the hell are we payin’ these blokes for!?"
When you had performed for the recruiters—which you were surprised to find wasn’t Mammon, since the guy seemed to stick his nose in everything—you displayed to them your . A few somersaults, a bit of ariel silk action, and the classic, juggling. 
“How good is your balance?” One of them had questioned, their pen tapping softly against the wooden desk, as they considered your skills.
“Good enough, I suppose.” You replied truthfully.
Long story short, you got the gig. Although, when you heard they wanted you to tightrope under a hoop, that was a little surprising. 
Good thing you weren’t afraid of heights, or this would have been a nightmare.
Backing away from the edge, your gaze rested on the hoop aflame in front of you. After Mammon would finish speaking, you’d begin your act.
"But that ain't the only thing heating up tonight, folks."
Wait, what did he mean by that?
“‘Cause the tightrope… is also on fire!!!” 
What?!
The crowd went berserk hearing that. They whooped and hollered, as their twisted little fantasies came true before their eyes.
“Oh, god damnit, Mammon!” You muttered.
When you told them you had a pretty good pain tolerance, that did not mean resistance to fire!
You sighed, it was a little too late to back out now. Plus, you needed the money. Bouncing on your toes, you attempted to hype yourself up.
Exhaling a large breath, your foot lifted from the stand, and slowly reached out towards the tightrope. 
‘Fuck, this is going to hurt.’ you groaned internally, your toe just inches from the wire. You could feel the heat of the fire as it hungrily licked at your feet. 
Right as you were about to place yourself onto the wire, you felt something tugging at the back of your collar. 
It was deathly cold, and you tried to pull away from its touch, but whatever was holding you had a strong grip. A thick green fog-like substance pooled at your feet, and you looked down in confusion as it began to circle around your figure.
You felt the force on your collar harshly pull you backwards, and your feet lifted from the ground. The smoke became so thick in front of you, it was only the bright lights from the spotlights below that gave you any visual. Suddenly, large eyes began to dot your vision, staring directly at you, into your hollow being.
“What the fu-”
Darkness suddenly covered your vision, and you felt like you were floating in mid-air. Though, you couldn’t tell where exactly in the air you were, other than the fact the surface below you had completely vanished.
You tried to peel your eyes open, but whatever had thrusted you into this chilling realm would not let you get a glimpse of your surroundings. It wasn’t until you felt your feet hit firm ground, and a much less intense light hit your eyelids. You opened them slowly, your mouth still partially open.
“-ckkkk?” You finished, your eyes darting from one side of the mysterious room to the other. It looked strange.. to say the least. It was old, a little run down. It screamed tacky. 
You observed the room again, trying to find anything familiar that could gauge your location.
Were you in a hotel lobby? But, why? How? You’ve never been here before, nor did you know anyone who stayed at such a dump.
“Ah, there you are, my friend! What a pleasure to see you!”
You pivoted sharply to face behind you, and your eyes widened in shock at the familiar face.
Standing before you, a large toothy-grin plastered across his face, was Alastor. The owner of your soul, your eternal boss, the Radio Demon, and the butt end of most of your unfunny jokes—which you would never dare say in front of him.
“You!”
Your finger lifted, pointing accusingly at the tall, red demon. He only tilted his head amusingly at you, that smile only growing wider as you frowned.
“Yes, it is I. I’m glad you remember my face, how are you today?” 
“What do you want?” You grumbled, ignoring his question. You crossed your arms before taking a step back. There were others behind him, but it was Alastor you were focused on as you waited for his response.
“Oh, just some charity work. My new friends over here are in need of some more helping hands, so I took it upon myself to volunteer your services!” 
He motioned to the others behind him, and you glanced at the strangers. One of them was a woman with long, platinum-blonde hair, who smiled awkwardly at you with a wave. 
“That’s great!” You replied sarcastically, throwing your hands up in exasperation, “but couldn’t you wait until after my gig? I was about to make some good money!”
Alastor only sidled up to you, before wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you against his cheek as if you two were best friends. You wanted to recoil from his touch, but you knew you’d get nothing good out of that action. 
“Oh, I am terribly sorry about that, my friend. But, we do have an agreement, as I'm sure you are well aware. Which means, for the time being, you’ll be living here at the hotel!”
Of course you were aware of the “agreement”, the guy had your soul! 
“What hotel?”
“The Hazbin Hotel! What do you think about the name, hm? I came up with it myself!” 
“It’s kind of lame.” 
“Oh-ho! You are such a charm, my dear! I can always count on you to liven up the room with your jokes.”
You sighed, uncrossing your arms and lowering them to your sides in defeat. You were stuck here, with Alastor, until he no longer needed your presence. As always.
“I still would have appreciated a call beforehand or something.” 
“Take my arrival back in the city as the call, my friend. My return was no doubt discussed by many. You knew I’d acquire your assistance at some point.”
Yes, that’s right. Alastor had been gone a good, what, seven years? It was strange, how he had just disappeared without a word or any kind of clue to his location. Where had he gone? Why was he being so secretive about it?
You didn’t miss him, of course. His absence was a mini vacation for you, a break from endless favors that he deemed you worthy to complete. What a joke.
“Now, why don’t we go and introduce you to all these fantastic fellows, hm?” He spoke, a command deep in his static-laced tone.
You turned back towards the small group of demons, who stood a few feet away silently as the two of you bickered. Standing slightly away from the rest, was a familiar furry face. Husker. He was here too? 
Nudging you forward with his cane, you walked up to the onlookers, who regarded you with a mixed expression. The shorter gray lady stood glaring at you with suspicion, her eyes darting between you and Alastor.
Beside her, was that pretty pale-faced demon in the red tuxedo. She smiled broadly at you, her eyes practically gleaming in excitement at seeing the multiple new faces.
“Hello! My name is Charlie, and this is my hotel! I'm so glad to have you aboard!” 
“..Hi, it’s good to meet you too.”
“Let me introduce you to our crew! Over there is my girlfriend, Vaggie!”
She motioned towards the shorter gray woman, and you looked at her more carefully. She had an X across her eye, barely visible with the long hair she situated across half her face. She still eyed you with suspicion, but her demeanor had softened as Charlie spoke to you.
“And, over there is Angel Dust, our first resident of the hotel!”
“How ya doing, Sugar?” Angel winked at you, as he leaned against the bar counter. Husk stood behind the counter, a thin line on his lips.
“I’m sure you’re familiar with Husker and Niffty, right?” 
You nodded, your gaze meeting Husk’s. His eyes softened just a teeny bit, before he let out a hmph and turned away towards the shelves of bottles against the wall.
Your attention turned back to Charlie, as she began filling you in with the details about the hotel and her plans.
She seemed like a sweet girl, passionate and imaginative. When she described her dreams to you, for the hotel, for the entirety of Hell, you listened carefully.
Sinners.. being redeemed? Going to Heaven? That seemed too good to be true. Unbelievable, almost. Sure, some of the demons down here weren’t too bad, but surely none of them were good enough to actually climb to the pearly gates. 
Charlie seemed… different from other dreamers, though, like she could actually get it to work. You couldn’t pinpoint exactly what made you think so. Maybe it was because she was the princess of Hell, and was the second highest on the food chain of this damned place.
You were lucky with how down-to-earth she was, or your bluntness would have probably gotten you smited by now.
In comparison to Charlie, you were a nobody. Well, you were nobody in general. You didn’t own anything of value, not even your soul.
Charlie didn’t act like a princess though. Such as how she spoke to you, and her friends. No command in her tone, no true motives behind layers of smiles and sweetly spoken lies. 
If she was the owner of your soul, maybe life wouldn’t be so bad. She treated everyone fairly, without judgment of who they used to be. Only dreaming of who they could be.
Was the King of Hell the same? How much did Charlie mirror her father, anyway? 
“So.. what can you do?” Charlie broke you from your thoughts, she was turned to you, her gaze meeting yours intently as she waited for you to respond.
“Well, I'm a performer! Mostly aerobatics, but I can dance and other tricks. Oh! I’m also a crowd-pleaser, i’m a really smooth talker.”  
“That’s ssooooo cool! You do that kind of stuff, like, in the circus?”
“Mostly, yes. Any odd jobs I can find looking for my skill set, really. I’m not picky when it comes to money.”
Charlie contemplated your words for a moment, her eyes darting. She’s already got a bartender and a cleaning lady, but where to put you…
“I’m also fantastic at pick-pocketing.” You grinned pridefully at her. It was something you were very good at, and that you had continued to perfect during your time in Hell.
It was also what led you to make that wretched deal with Alastor. 
“Oh.. um, let’s stick with your other skills, hm?” Charlie smiled awkwardly, before she turned her head, and her eyes landed on an empty desk situated near the large entrance doors. 
She perked, her eyes widening in glee as she spun around towards you. 
“That’s it! You can be our new receptionist! You’ll answer calls and greet all our newcomers, and you’ll be in charge of making sure all our guests are well taken care of during their stay.”
Your smile faltered, your gaze resting on the desk behind Charlie before meeting her eyes once more. You chuckled like she had just told you a good joke. Except when your eyes met hers again, she only smiled at you in anticipation.
Wait, was she serious?
“I’m sorry,” you started, lifting your hands up and shaking your head, “but that is not something i’m good at nor-“
“Well I think it’s a splendid idea!” Alastor appeared besides you, his hand resting on your shoulder. His claws dug slightly into your suit, and you whipped your head up, eyeing him with animosity. 
His eyes were squinted, a glare behind that wide grin. ‘Stay in line, or else.’ was his silent command. You scrunched up your nose, ready to argue, but the intellectual part of your brain smacked you upside the head. 
Your shoulders drooped, that frown deepening before you turned to Alastor. You pulled your shoulder from his grip, and looked at Charlie. 
“Fine.”
And, that’s how it was for a time. 
There wasn’t much to do, in all honesty. As the months ticked by, you sat at that desk drowning in boredom. The people at the hotel were lively, but the job? Not so much.
While Alastor was the face, you were the paperwork. Although, he barely acted like it, which meant you took most of the work. 
There were barely any phone calls, any new visitors, anything new at all really. So, you instead filled your days with walking around the hotel, observing the rooms of any renovations that Alastor could make, or you’d write shopping lists for groceries and other miniscule items for the crew, and going out yourself to shop. 
There was that one demon, the snake inventor, that had become a resident during your time working. You had been there, when he attacked Alastor on the hotel’s doorstep. Your mouth agape as you watched him tear a piece of your boss’s suit, waiting for the snake to meet his death.
He didn’t, surprisingly. Instead, he had arrived not too long after apologizing. Which was shocking, and.. eye opening. 
Could Charlie’s dream come true? Alastor spoke of it as if it would turn into nothing but a failure. You had believed him, but now, that doubt was fading from your mind.
Could.. there be a chance for you too? 
You had mentally slapped yourself for that thought. You, redeemed? With no soul, you were trapped here. Only ever being able to watch from the sidelines as those more worthy ascended. 
Thoughts like that only came when you had drank a little too much. Finger mindlessly circling the rim of your wine glass, brow furrowed as you lamented over your poor decisions, you’d sit at the bar in silence late at night.
Nobody bothered you during those times, not even Alastor. No one saw the way your lip began to quiver, the way your vision blurred with tears.
No one noticed the surface of your drink disturbed with a droplet of salty sadness as it mixed with the bitter alcohol. 
‘You don’t deserve to feel sorry for yourself,’ you’d think bitterly, soaked anger spilling down your cheeks, ‘you damned yourself to eternal suffering the moment you shook that demon’s hand.’
Taking the glass, you’d lift it to your lips and empty the rest of the contents. That salty tang still hanging on your tongue when you set the glass back down.
On the worst nights, you’d simply rest your head against the countertop. The cool surface refreshing to your warm cheek, as you curled into yourself, and drifted into a restless sleep.
When you’d wake a few hours later, your blood-shot, tired eyes would open to the sight of a glass of ice-cold water and a migraine pill sitting a few feet away from your face. 
You never saw who catered to your hungover needs, but you had an inkling of a guess.
Lifting your head, you’d blink away the morning fog before sitting up straight with a groan. Slowly, you’d reach out and grab the small capsule and the water, before swallowing both in one large gulp.
Then, it was back to work as always.
Sometimes, you’d actually that phone on your desk would brnnnggg loudly, and you’d leap out of your chair to have a conversation with a fresh new voice. 
“You guys at least provide free Hash, right?” The masculine voice on the other end questioned.
“Sir, this a hotel meant for redemption. Y’know, to Heaven? We don’t have any paraphernalia here.” You grumbled, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration as you listened to the guy.
“Wait.. so you’re saying Heaven doesn’t have joints?”
“I’ve never been up there, obviously. Though I'm sure drugs are a big no-no up there.” 
“Then what the fuck is the point of wanting to go up there?! No weed? No sex toys? Fuck Heaven! Fuck you and your stupid little hotel!” 
“Choke on dick and die!” You snarled, slamming the phone back into place. You leaned back in the chair, fuming silently. The calls never ended well. 
“Good job, you’re really pulling in all those potential residents.” A sarcastic voice piped up near you.
Your head snapped to the bar across the room, your gaze resting on the black and white feline who was busy cleaning glasses on the counter. 
Standing from your spot, you stroll over to the bar, before nestling into one of the bar stools. Placing a hand under your chin, you rested your elbow against the shiny countertop.
“Pour an old friend a drink, won’t you Husk?” You asked sweetly, batting your eyelashes at him. 
His soul was owned by Alastor too, and even if you didn’t know the guy too well, you felt a kinship with him. You both were hollow beings, now.
“We ain’t friends,” the demon grumbled, “I'm just stuck with you and Niffty until I kick the bucket.”
“Okay, Mr. Grumpy-Pants.” You laughed as he reached for your go-to bottle. Same old, adorably-cross Husker. 
He was getting better, though. Happier, even. The night he disappeared to go retrieve Angel Dust, he came back with a bounce in his step. Seemingly more at peace, with whatever happened between the two away from prying eyes.
Once, you swore you heard him humming some old, happy tune while he organized the liquor bottles on the shelf. Husk.. singing? That was something you thought you’d never see.
He had a very good poker face, and half the time you couldn’t tell if the kitty even liked you. He always regarded you like he was behind a closed, see-through door. Getting close to you just enough to see and speak to you, but never enough you could actually reach out and use him for support. Hopefully, he was getting better with that too.
Maybe, with how things were going, he’d let you scratch his chin one day. You always wanted to try it, see if he purred just like they did back on Earth.
“What do you think about the hotel?”  You asked him, as he popped the cap off the bottle with his claw, and began pouring a glass in front of your seat.
“It ain’t too bad,” Husk replied truthfully, “But, it could be better.”
“I agree, I was having a pretty good time out on my own before this. Guess we’ll just have to get used to it, I’m not sure how long Alastor plans to keep us here.”
“You don’t know?” 
You raised an eyebrow at the feline, as you took a sip of your drink. “No, I don’t. Why would you think I do?” 
“Well, I just assumed the two of you would discuss those kind things.”
“You think I talk to Alastor about his deceitful plans with this place?” 
“Why wouldn’t you? I mean, you two are practically the same, with your silver-tongue and all.”
You leaned back, a mixture of surprise and disgust on your face at his words. Husk thought you and Alastor were like, what, best buddies? The demon that owned your soul?
“That’s a fucking lie,” You growled, glaring at him, “I’m not like that douchebag at all. Just because I’m good at talking my way out of tough shit, doesn’t mean I use them to manipulate people into making magical deals that fuck up their entire existence.” 
Using your feet, you pushed your chair back forcefully. It scraped harshly against the wooden floor, as you stood up from the stool. You didn’t even glance at Husk as you sharply turned away, and stomped across the room.
“Thanks for the drink, Asshole.” You called as you turned the corner into a long hallway, towards your room.
You didn’t speak to Husker for a while after that, or go to the bar. Instead, you worked and kept to yourself in your room. It wasn’t until you walked into the lobby one early morning, did you see the feline.
He was standing with the rest of the crew, concern etched across their faces as they circled around a mumbling, erratic Charlie Morningstar. 
“Why isn’t the hotel working?!” You could hear her fume, as she fussed over a large tack board filled with drawings and pictures. 
It wasn’t until about a half an hour later, when Charlie had hung up the phone with her father, did you realize the day was going to get much stranger.
“Alright, guys! My dad is going to be here in one hour, so we have to make this place perfect!” She said, a nervous smile on her lips as she addressed the small crowd.
Everyone tensed, their eyes darting to each other at her words.
Charlie’s dad was coming? Lucifer Morningstar? The King of Hell?!
Suddenly, the room bursted into action. Sir. Pentious slithered to the kitchen, claiming he needed to bake sweets for Lucifer’s arrival. Charlie was practically hyperventilating as Vaggie rubbed her shoulder soothingly. 
“Aw man, I gotta go put on my new perfume!” Angel Dust yelled from the chaos, as he sped away towards his room. Husk continued wiping down the bar countertop, but a little more feverishly now. 
Alastor was the only one seemingly unchanged by the news of the king’s arrival. He only stood there grinning, as the others rushed around him, before beginning to push back his cuticles.
“I’m just going to go… put on some better clothes.” You called, unsure if anyone was even listening as they scrambled about. 
You quickly left the lobby, running to your room to clean yourself up and look presentable. Your mind raced as you did so, recalling all the rumors and gossip you’ve heard over the years.
Was he a cruel king? He couldn’t be, not with how Charlie turned out. But, with her reaction to asking for his help… that was strange. She had never spoken of him before, so it didn’t seem like they were that close.
What was he going to think of you? You’ve never stood before such an important figure, other than Charlie, but that was wayyy different than speaking to the most powerful man in the realm.
You’d just have to make him like you, to avoid any trouble. You needed to charm the King of Hell, just like you’ve done successfully with so many others.
You adjusted your appearance in the mirror, before nodding your head in self-approval. You crossed your room, pulling open the door, and making your way down the stairs. 
When you returned to the lobby, everyone was making last minute preparations. 
Sir. Pentious was busy tidying the cookies on the cooking sheet in front of him. Angel Dust was finishing hanging up the balloons around the room, while Charlie was hyping herself up in the corner.
A large banner with a handwritten message ‘It’s A Boy!’ hung from the ceiling, and you shook your head in embarrassment with a smile.
When you had made it back to the group, there was barely any time to talk before you heard a knock at the front door.
Everyone froze, and Charlie exhaled a large breath of nerves, before crossing the distance towards the door. She pulled it open, and a white hat poked from over her shoulder.
“Charlie!” 
You heard him before you saw him, and he sounded like a burst of sunshine as you watched Charlie get pulled into his bear hug.
She sputtered against his tight grip, before he finally released her. You could see the wide brim hat poking out of her figure, see that silly apple that stuck out from the top of his cane, as they talked for a few more moments.
It wasn’t until Charlie turned to face you and the rest of the crew, did you see Lucifer Morningstar’s face. Your breath hitched, eyes widening as you drank in his figure.
Fuck. He was gorgeous. 
He definitely presented himself like a king, with how he stood with his back straight and head held high. He rested slightly against his cane, his interest piqued at the new faces.
As his gaze swept across the lobby, it briefly landed on you, and your heart fluttered in your chest. God, his eyes were so pretty. They were a soft, muted yellow, like buttercream. 
They held many emotions too, you could see it. There was deep sadness that never left his gaze, as if it followed him like a shadow. It was something you felt followed you too. What was his story? 
Your eyes traced the rest of his appearance, landing next on the golden strands nestled under his hat.
That platinum-blonde hair practically glowed underneath the chandelier lighting, as it curled delicately around his face. It looked so smooth and silky, like the guy had a 10-step hair care routine. It probably smelled amazing too. 
And, those cute little rosy cheek spots on the sides of his mouth, that stood out from his pale skin. If you tilted your head just right, you’d say he looked just like a cockatiel.
But, it was his smile that enraptured you. Not the fake one, that wide, awkward mess across his lips he did as a way to appeal to Charlie.
No, it was instead that warm, genuine grin that lit up his entire face, crinkling the corners of his eyes in a way that made you feel like you were the only person in the room. The smile that only appeared during tender moments, like when his daughter rubbed her cheek against his affectionately. 
You hoped he would start to smile like that more often. 
Charlie had approached your group, introducing Lucifer slowly through your companions. Your heartbeat quickened as they made their way closer to you. 
Taking a deep breath, you clasped your hands together, smiling warmingly at the duo approaching. Charlie stopped, turning to her father as she began to introduce you.
“And thisss is our receptionist! They’re in charge of handling most of our inbound and outbound affairs, and in helping us capture potential residents too!” 
“And I'm doing a fantastic job at that, by the way.” You declared to the two, that smile of yours widening as you edged closer to them. You lifted your arm, extending a hand towards the fallen angel.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness.” 
God, could this dude get any more perfect? The closer he got, the warmer you felt your body temperature become, like he was practically the sun itself.
He regarded it for a moment, before hesitantly taking your grip. His hands were soft, but firm. The gold band on his pinkie grazed across your finger, it was cool to the touch, giving you much needed relief to the growing intensity of the heat of his grasp.
His eyes traveled up yours once more, to your eyes as they flickered between your batting lashes, and to your pretty smile that only grew wider as you leaned forward.
“The pleasure is all mine.” He spoke softly with a grin, as he looked you over. His voice was like silk, and you wanted to wrap it around yourself like a sheet. 
A stark difference to Alastor’s, who gave you a headache listening to that static overlay every time the guy opened his mouth.
“This is your first time here, right?”
“Yes, I'm just here to give my daughter the support she needs for her little project.” Lucifer nodded, glancing over to Charlie as he spoke.
“Well, I hope your opinion of the hotel has improved now that you’ve seen it in person.” 
“Oh, believe me, it has.” He assured, that nervous grin disappearing from his face, and you could see a playful smirk slowly blooming on his lips.
That was before his eyes landed on the bar at the other end of the room, his hand left yours as he turned to face it. You pulled your arm back, clenching your hand as his warmth faded from your skin.
“What in the unholy Hell is that?”
You stood up straight, as he walked closer to the bar. Only for Alastor to appear right behind him, a deadly grin on his lips as he strutted forward.
“Just some renovations we’ve had done, adds a little bit of color! Don’t you think?”
You sighed, your lips twisting into a slight frown as you watched the tension in the room escalate with every word Lucifer and Alastor exchanged. It wasn't until Charlie sidled up beside her father, that the drama got good.
“I guess that’s why they call it the Has-Been Hotel, eh?” Lucifer grinned, nudging Charlie with his elbow.
You snorted, your hand coming up to cusp your mouth at the sudden outburst. His dad joke was just so hilariously stupid—not to mention, it was pointed at Alastor, which was bonus points—you couldn’t contain the noise you made.
All eyes turned to you, and you felt sweat beading at your forehead from all the sudden attention.
Alastor still had that large toothy grin, but his eyes were squinted in a glare as his head snapped uneasily towards you. 
It was Lucifer’s gaze that captured your attention, though. He turned in surprise, as if shocked someone actually laughed at his joke. It wasn’t until he saw that the person that laughed was you, did he seem to slightly puff out his chest, a prideful grin dancing on his lips.
Heat flooded your cheeks as he sent you a mischievous wink, before his attention turned back to Alastor as the demon laughed2.
“Yes, Ha-Ha. It was actually my idea, though.” 
“Ha-Ha, well, it’s not very clever!” 
“A-Ha! Fuck you.”
You had stood to the side, as the two demons bickered and fought for Charlie’s attention. The insecurities of both became increasingly obvious to you as time went on.
Alastor, with his uneasiness that someone of much higher stature and power could take his role in the hotel. And, Lucifer, who’s relationship with his daughter was sour enough that the idea of someone replacing his role as a father caused him to short circuit.
Then, when a short, rotund woman bursted through the front doors, dressed like a flapper and fawning over Alastor, you realized even more how today was looking to be a really strange day.
Mimzy, an old friend of Alastor’s from when they were both swinging through the 20’s and 30’s back on Earth. 
You didn’t know her very well, other than she never stopped talking, and in your opinion, had an ego bigger than Alastor’s. But, you’ve been around long enough to know that whenever she came around, it was only to beg Alastor for help when she fucked up.
Your opinion of her only worsened when the wall a few feet away from you blew open less than ten minutes later. 
The chaos that ensued was even worse, as bullets began ripping through the walls of the hotel. Loan Sharks, snarling Mimzy’s name with venom, threw another explosive towards the building. 
When Alastor had suddenly arrived, shifting into his demonic form, you breathed a sigh of relief as he began to decimate the little army outside.
One of them was falling right above your head, and you tried to scramble away. 
Before it could turn you into a stain on the carpet, it suddenly jerked away, smashing into the closest wall instead. Gold sparks faded from around its wooden frame, and you turned your head to see Lucifer at the other end of the room with Charlie, his eyes trailing your form as you beelined for the opposite wall.
Another explosion rocked the lobby again, and you stumbled on your feet. A table skidded quickly across the floor, heading right for you.
The adrenaline pumping through your veins sent your body into overdrive, and you swiftly lean down, lowering your hands to meet the floor. With a powerful push, you launch yourself into a graceful somersault, your body arching elegantly over the crashing obstacle. Time seems to stretch as you execute the maneuver with precision, feeling the rush of wind against your skin as you spin through the air. Your back barely grazing the table’s surface before you landed into a roll. 
You shoot up from the ground, heart racing, a dumbstruck smile blooming across your lips at the realization you were still in one piece.
You were too preoccupied with Sir. Pentious barreling into your side; that you missed the pale face mirroring your  expression, as he watched you clear the table. 
By the time you untangled yourself from the snake demon, the dust had begun to settle in the room. Alastor had killed—or eaten—most of the Loan Sharks, and was now standing on the front lawn, cleaning bits of meat from underneath his nails.
Husk lifted his head slowly from behind the bar, eyes scanning the perimeter for danger. Mimzy crawled out from under the bar stools, before scurrying outside to speak with Alastor.
“Jesus, is everyone okay?” Angel Dust called, while Charlie was helping dust off stray pieces of rubble from Vaggie’s hair.
“HELPPPP!” Came the loud, mousy squeal from above your head. Eyes lifting to the ceiling, you see Niffty clutching a support beam with her life.
“Niffty? How the fuck did’ya get up there?!” Angel Dust yelled back, arms thrown in the air in exasperation.
It had partially dislodged from the ceiling, hanging loosely by one end. Niffty poked her head out from the side, her large eye darting across the room, as she waited for someone to come to her aid.
Your gaze traveled down from the support beam, your eyes landing on a water pipe, broken and sticking out from a large crack in the wall. It hung just perfectly in between you and Niffty, which would allow you to reach her quickly.
If you could just get a boost… aha! Your gaze lands on the partially torn couch that was scooted a few feet across the room from the explosions. If you leapt off its back, you could swing from the broken water pipe and use it to catapult yourself right next to Niffty. 
Lucifer analyzed the ceiling before turning to his daughter, smirking as he slowly lifted his cane.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got thi-“ 
“Hang on, Niff! I’m coming!” Your voice rang through the room, your footsteps echoing as you ran towards the damaged furniture. 
Taking a large leap, your feet hit the backrest of the couch. The muscles in your legs tense as you lower yourself slightly to vault forward and up, your arms shooting above your head as you close in on the pole.
Your fingers wrap around its chilling, metal surface; and with your palms snug against its frame, you swing forward, arching your body so your feet begin to lift above your head. 
You release the pole, your legs high in the air as you lift yourself up. You feel the wooden beam graze to the back of your knee pit, and you curl your legs around its base, hanging upside down.
Tensing all the muscles in your abdomen, you use the momentum to swing your legs around the beam and your butt hits the top of its base. You blink, your heart pounding in your chest as you exhale a sigh of relief.
Damn, that felt good. This was so much better than rotting at a desk all day, you really missed your old job. 
Niffty shot up next to you, wrapping her little arms around your forearm in glee.
“You came to rescue me, you’re my hero!” 
“Yeah, yeah. Just hang on, little lady.” 
You pulled her close, before getting to your feet. You lean over the edge, the only thing catching your eyes that you could use was that water pipe.
Okay, you’ve done a bit of parkour before. Piece of cake. 
You knelt slightly, before leaping from the beam. You stuck on foot out in front of you, and you felt your sole hit the top of the pipe. It was like taking a large step, as you swung your other leg forward and launched yourself with the other. 
Curling your legs, you practically cannonball into the couch. The large, plush cushions swallowed you for a moment, before spitting you back onto your feet in front of it.  
“Holy shit, ya didn’t die!” Angel Dust exhaled a sigh of relief, walking up to you. Niffty fussed in your hold, and you gently lowered her to the ground.
Niffty ran to Angel, who kneeled down to fuss over her for any injuries. You turned from the duo, before you caught sight of another figure coming forward.
“You’re an acrobat, aren’t you?” Lucifer said, a hint of astonishment in his tone as he strolled up to you, his eyes gleaming with interest.
“Yes, well, mostly. But I can do a lot of other things too.” You nodded, smiling bashfully at his facial expression.
“Wow! I mean, heh—boy, I haven’t seen anyone do that perfect of a maneuver in a long time. You looked like a ballerina up there with how strict your form was when you were swinging.”
Did Lucifer just.. compliment you? He knew about aerobics enough to make that kind of judgment on you? Man, this guy just kept getting better and better.
It should have been obvious, though. His silly red-and-white attire had struck you as familiar when you first saw him, and now you realized it was similar to the getup of a Ringmaster.
“Thank you, I've been practicing since I was young. I’ve even done a few circus acts before, and it’s always such a thrill. I'd do it over and over again without getting tired.”
“I think that’s called being an adrenaline junkie.” Lucifer teased, a playful smile on his lips. “But, really, that was good. Impressive, even.”
“Not as impressive as saving me from getting crushed by the ceiling.” 
Lucifer’s eyes widened just a tad, and he nervously adjusted his long collar, his smile turning bashful now.
“Oh, you.. you saw that?”
You nodded, “Yes, I did. Thank you. Also, your magic is just so pretty, they’re like little golden fireworks!”
Before Lucifer could speak, you leaned in closer to him. Your ear just barely grazing the brim of his hat as you smiled.
“And, I just wanted to let you know, I agree with you about the hotel name,” you inched closer to his face, your voice lowering as you spoke with a honeyed tone, “I have no doubt you would come up with a better name, Your Highness.” 
Lucifer tensed, and you thought you could see those red spots on his cheek darkening just a shade. 
He lowered his head slightly after that, his face mostly obscured by the brim of his hat. You couldn’t see what he was doing, but, was that an edge of a smile on his lips?
After a second, Lucifer cleared his throat, before lifting his head again.
“I’m glad we share the same appreciation for aesthetics. It’s been a pleasure speaking with you.” 
“Hey, Dad? Can I, um, speak to you? About the hotel?” Charlie spoke, approaching. A firm look on her face, as if it was rather important.
“Of course, I’ll be right there,” Lucifer nodded, before turning back to you, “Again, a pleasure to meet you. I hope we get to talk again.” 
Then, he did something you never expected, he curtsied. Your eyes widened, the King, showing you such a gesture of respect? All for what, doing a few tricks in the air?
Heat creeped onto your cheeks after that, and you watched him turn away, following after his daughter. Leaving you to stew about your encounter with Lucifer for the rest of the day.
Well, your thoughts on the King of Hell definitely stayed when you awoke the next morning, and the morning after that. 
Your thoughts were still there in that lobby as you sat at your desk one afternoon, your hands organizing a large stack of papers. They had a picture of the Hazbin Hotel on them, along with words that basically screamed ‘Come check us out!’
The plan was to distribute the posters around the city.  Buildings, poles, doorways, anything that could hold a staple was your target. 
You were fiddling around in your drawer, searching for extra staples when you heard it. A gentle rapping against the front doors, which made you lift your head.
There was no one else in the lobby, not even Husk. Slowly, you walked towards the doors, and the silhouette of a hat stuck out from the bottom of the stained glass.
Is that..?
Reaching to the handle, you pull it open, and met the familiar soft, yellow gaze. His lips curved into a smile at your appearance, and he lifted his hand in greeting.
“Oh! Hello, again!” 
Fuck, he was still gorgeous. Definitely an Angel, no doubt about that. His pearlescent skin practically glittered in the red hues of the afternoon light behind him, and you averted your gaze for a moment, trying not to be blinded by his ethereal beauty.
“Your highness? I’m—ahem, well, sorry. I’m just surprised to see you back so soon. What are you doing here?”
“I'm here to see Charlie, of course!” He exclaimed, strolling right past you into the lobby. His eyes scanned the room, resting for a moment disapprovingly on the bar, before landing on the large desk. 
“Is this where you work?” He motioned towards its wooden frame, you sidled up to him, before nodding.
“Yep. Hardly move from there during the day.”
“You sit there all day? Yeesh, that’s terrible.” 
“Mhm. Pretty boring, actually.”
“Well, if you ever want a better career, I’m sure I could find you a job at LuLu World, I’ve got a circus that runs year round there.”
LuLu World? The theme park he owned? You had never been there before, but it always sounded amazing. And, he thought you’d be a great fit there too. He couldn’t have been that impressed by a few of your maneuvers. Maybe, he just needed to go to an actual circus and see the real performers.
“I’d love to, but I'm kind of stuck here.”
“Why?” Lucifer turned to you, an eyebrow raised. 
“Well, um—” 
‘My soul is owned by the demon you have beef with, and I can’t exactly leave without his permission. I also can’t tell you this because I apparently signed an NDA too.’
“—I just want to help people! So, I made a promise that I wouldn’t leave until I made a difference. Y’know, really make an effort to improve this wonderful community!” You responded with fake cheer, clasping your hands together.
Lucifer regarded you for a moment, his fingers fidgeting against the apple on his cane as he thought.
“Oh.. well, that’s generous of you. But, someone with your skill set doesn’t deserve to rot away in a place like this, I’m sure you’d make a difference somewhere more relevant.”
“Are you trying to get rid of me, Your Highness?” You teased, your nails grazing against the desk as you walked past him, before pivoting to face him.
“What? No! Of course not, just—forget I said anything.”  He chuckled nervously, before fussing with his long collar. He seemed to do that often when
Aw, he got all flustered when he thought you were serious. Who knew the embodiment of Pride had such bad self esteem.
“Charlie went out to run some errands, but she should be on her way back, actually. Can I get you anything to drink while you wait?”
“Chamomile Tea, if you have it?”
You nodded, before walking towards the small counter behind your desk. There was a coffee machine, a toaster, and a large, electric kettle. You placed the kettle underneath the small sink, filling it up, before switching it on and setting it down. 
It would take a little time for the water to heat, so you returned to where your visitor awaited.
Lucifer leaned against your desk slightly, his fingers mindlessly tapping at his cane, his eyes staring at the wall. There he goes again, lost in his thoughts. Which he seemed to do quite often.
Would it be rude to wake him from his stupor? You had only just met him, so maybe, don’t push your luck.
You turned your attention back onto the stack of posters, flicking through each one as you counted. You heard Lucifer shuffle beside you, before clearing his throat. 
“What are you doing?”
“Posters for the hotel. I’m going to put them up around the city later today.” You held one out to him, and he took it from your grasp. His fingers grazed yours, and you could feel the warmth seeping into your skin from just that small touch.
When he pulled his hand away, that warmth left you, and you felt that never-ending chill seep back into your bones again. It was something that followed you since you made that deal with Alastor. As if your soul was the sun, and you just got shoved down a long, dark well. 
You could only claw at the edges for so long, letting the blood from your nails drip into the standing water at your feet, before you gave up trying. You’ve been sitting in that well for a long time, allowing time to pass by.
But, for some reason, since you arrived at the hotel, you’ve begun to start digging at the cracks of that well again. Maybe, if you got your claws in deep enough, you’d find that beam of sunlight.
“Hm, the drawings seems.. a little off. Did you do this?” Lucifer dragged you out of your thoughts, as he looked at you expectantly. 
Shaking your head, you chuckled softly. “No, unfortunately, stick figures are my only language in the arts. I think Charlie drew it.”
“Did I say this drawing was off? I lied! Ha-ha, yeah, this is great work.” Lucifer quickly replied, brushing off his earlier comment.
You were going to open your mouth to respond, before you heard the loud whistling of the kettle. You turned, watching the steam pour out of its lid, and quickly ran to fetch it.
You pulled a small tea cup from its stand on the edge of the counter, before filling it full with the water from the kettle.
Reaching towards a small cupboard, your fingers sorted through the different herbal flavors as you looked for one in particular. When your eyes finally caught the light green packaging, you pulled it out.
“Hey, this might seem like an odd question, but do you like caramel?” Lucifer asked from behind you. You turned your head slightly, taking a glance at him. His nails clicked against his cane, fast and nervous as he waited.
“Yes, I do. It’s not my favorite sweet treat, but I've definitely indulged in it a few times.”
Taking a few moments as you spoke, you ripped open the package. Holding the small string in between your thumb and your index finger, you carefully placed the tea bag into the steaming water. 
“Great! I was wondering, well, I mean—you see, I made some caramel apples for Charlie. Except, she hasn’t had one of mine since she was a girl, so I just wanted someone to take a test bite before I presented it to heel
Slowly, you could see the color begin to change as the herbal goodness was dispersed in the cup. You turned to him slowly, eyebrows raised as you regarded him.
“You want me to.. try one of your apples?”
“Yes! That would be great, just to know I still got the gourmet chef in me.” He smiled, lifting up a finger right above his lips, and swirling it in the air. As if twirling a long mustache.
“Your tea, Your Majesty.” You chuckled, bending your head slightly, placing it down on the desk in front of him. When you lifted your head, you were greeted with the sight of a large, light-brown coated apple. 
“It’s not poisoned I promise.” He teased, a lopsided grin on his face as he held the treat out to you, his fingers clasped around the kabob-like stick poking out of the bottom.
Carefully, you lifted your arm, plucking the caramel apple away from his grip. When you had it between your fingers, Lucifer reached down to take the tea cup from the desk, before swirling the mix around slightly. He blew at its surface, and the liquid rippled as steam still rose from it.
He gingerly lifted it to his lips, his pinky lifting away from the handle as he did so. His eyes softened as the herbal flavoring hit his tongue, and his body seemed to relax as warmth bloomed under his skin and the drink traveled down his throat.
‘He drinks with his pinky out? That’s so cute.’ You gushed silently, never did you think the King of Hell would practice such mannerisms. But, in all honesty, he didn’t seem like he should be in Hell at all. Guess that’s what happens, when the highest powers known to man punish you for being you.
His eyes never left you as he drank, as he waited for you to take a bite. You turned the treat in your grip, inspecting it a final time. Carefully, you lifted it to your face, and took a bite of its side.
Lucifer seemed to grimace as your mouth closed against the large chunk of apple. You chewed for a moment, letting your taste buds do the work. Then, your brain short-circuited at the sensations, and your eyes lit up.
“Woa-hu-ho! This is fantastic!” You beamed, and Lucifer’s eyes widened in a look of surprise.
“Really..?”
“Yes! It’s actually really good! I think Charlie is going to love it!” You nodded briskly, taking another bite of delicacy.
“Ha, well. Guess I still got it in me after all this time.” He boasted, chest puffing just slightly at your compliments.
You obliterated that apple in front of him, taking barely a moment to breathe as you scarfed it down. God, his cooking was actually really good. What else could he make?
Lucifer only watched you, a faint smile on his lips as he watched you devour the treat. As if he was fascinated by your sudden primal hunger. 
Your eyes met his and you stopped suddenly, covering your mouth as you continued to chew. Heat flooding your cheeks in embarrassment.
“I’m sorry, Your Majesty, this is pretty rude of me..”
“No! Not at all, if I had more I'd surely give it to you,” he laughed, setting his almost-empty drink back onto the desk, “and please, call me Lucifer. There’s no need to use such titles in a private setting like this.”
Right as he spoke, the front entrance doors burst open, and Charlie and Vaggie strolled in chattering loudly. They held a few shopping bags in their hands, as they entered the lobby.
Right, so much for privacy. Couldn’t you get five more minutes with the #1 bachelor in the realm?
“Oh, Dad!” Charlie exclaimed, surprise etched on her face at seeing Lucifer standing beside you.
“Charlie!” He beamed, strolling over to her. He encompassed her into another of his signature bear hugs, and she sputtered for breath in his hold.
“Wha—gasp—what are you doing here?”
“I just came by to visit, also to take another peek at some renovations that really need to be done. Among other things.”
“Oh, okay! Let me drop this stuff off by Angel Dust, and we can do that.” Charlie smiled at her father, before turning and crossing the room to another hallway.
Lucifer watched her leave, before turning to you, his eyebrows raised as he spoke, “I assume you’ll still be sitting here the next time I stop by?” 
He wanted to see you again? Your brain couldn’t process that thought when the words left his lips.
“As always.” You smiled warmly at him, as you cleaned up the now-empty cup from the desk. You didn’t say ‘Your Majesty’ this time, but you weren’t sure whether calling your king by his real name was appropriate. At least, not yet.
“Good.” He nodded approvingly, before his back faced you and he walked out of the lobby. Your gaze lingered on the corner he had turned out of view from, before you sighed and returned to work. 
You didn’t notice those sickly red eyes watching you intensely from the shaded corner of the room, as you took a seat back at your desk. 
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Days like that continued, where you’d be greeted by the soft knocking against the entrance door. And, when you opened it, you’d meet the handsome, smiling face of Lucifer.
“Good morning, I hope you’re hungry!” He’d state as he strolled past you, always stopping right next to your desk first when he came.
You made sure to save your stomach for the delicacy he always carried with him now. Usually, he’d bring two, one for Charlie, and one for you. 
“I need to make sure she’ll like this one too.” He had explained. You were apparently his official taste tester now, but you never complained.
He’d hold the treat out to you, one eyebrow raised playfully, as he presented the caramel apple like a rose.
“Now with sprinkles!” He’d exclaim as you’d gingerly take it from his grip, your fingers brushing against his. The warmth a welcome feeling to your skin.
You’d sit there, feasting on the apple in your seat as he leaned against the desk. He was very chatty, even when he still held reservations around people in general. It never bothered you, of course. It stopped you from getting so bored while you worked.
“Don’t even get me started on Mammon,” Lucifer groaned, as you told him about your most recent circus acts, “the guy will do anything to put more money in his pocket. Y’know, he thinks we’re best buddies or something, thinks that lets him plagiarize my amusement park.”
“Why don’t you tell him to shut it down?”
“Because it brings in more business,” Lucifer had shrugged, “People go there, expecting a good show, and don’t find one. So, they go to my LuLu World, and bam, they never want to leave!”
You chuckled at the name, ‘LuLu’. Yep, you were definitely speaking to the Sin of Pride, alright.
“What’s so funny?” He had asked, curious at your reaction. You straightened yourself, a lop-sided smile on your lips when you realized he caught your laugh.
“Nothing it’s just.. ‘LuLu World’? There had to be something better you could have called it.”
Lucifer gasped, placing a hand on his heart, feigning hurt. “Woah, woah. First, you say I'm good with names, and now you’re laughing at them? Dirty.” 
“Oh, I'm so sorry. Please, good sir, don’t smite me!” You mocked a pain expression, clasping your hands together in a gesture of begging.
“I will allow you to live for now. Can’t have the hotel going into shambles because you’re not here to keep it running.” Lucifer’s voice deepened as he fixed his posture into a much more royal stance. As if he was speaking to a lowly squire in court.
‘I barely do anything around here, but thanks for the confidence boost.’ you’d answer silently, as you leaned back in your chair, watching his antics with amusement.
You began to anticipate his arrival with excitement. Even pouring his tea beforehand, so when he walked through those doors, you’d place a steaming cup into his palms. You always enjoyed the way his eyes softened when he took his first sip.
Hell, you enjoyed.. everything about him. His smile, his jokes, the care he had for his daughter, even if he had a hard time showing it. He made you smile, which was something you haven’t done willingly in a long time. 
And, his smile? That real, true look of happiness that blossomed on his face? That slowly began to return as well. 
For a few months, everything was dandy. Until, one evening, when Alastor summoned you to his room.
He never did that, and that made you nervous.
You stood at the closed door to his room, your heart pounding in your chest. What did he want? Did you do something wrong? Your thoughts just couldn’t still as you fidgeted nervously.
Slowly, you lifted your knuckles to the door. Before you could even graze the wooden surface, the door swung open. It creaked loudly as it did so, and your breath hitched as you began to glimpse inside.
You poked your head in, your eyes scanning across the room. The decorations were so outdated, it almost made you gag. Skeletons of an alligator hung on the wall, its eyes glowing from the string of lights wrapped around its figure.
A large shelf of books, mostly for cooking, stood out against a small wooden table. A small radio sat snug on the desk, playing a gentle jazz tune. On the opposite side of the room, was where that freaky abyss lay. You had never stepped foot there, the part of the room that simply seemed to dissolve into a dark, swampy land. 
Then, you heard humming. Staticy, soft humming, coming from the left side of the room.
Alastor stood over a bloody cutting board, a large kitchen knife in his hand. He wore an apron that was spattered with blood, his usual overcoat was gone, replaced by a dark red tuxedo underneath and a—surprisingly—clean white dress shirt.
He hummed along in sync with the music wafting from the speaker, as he continued to slice along the large slab of meat on the counter. You couldn’t dare think what the flesh used to be as you slipped through the crack, shutting the door softly behind you.
It didn’t seem like he knew you were standing there awkwardly by the door, but you knew he did. How long was he going to have you wait?
Clearing your throat, you spoke softly, “you wanted to see me, Alastor?”
“Ah, hello there, my friend!” He pivoted sharply, his tone chipper as he smiled at you. The knife was still in his grip, and he swirled it in the air playfully. “How are you doing on this fine, hellish evening?”
“Fine..”
“Wonderful! I called you here today because there is something I’ve wanted to discuss with you for some time. You see, I've taken notice that you and our ever-so charming King of Hell have been growing closer these past few months.”
This is what he wanted to talk about? You fought to not roll your eyes at that. 
“Let me guess, you want me to stop talking to him?”
Alastor giggled at that, a maniacal fit of he-he’s as he forcefully stabbed the knife into the slab of flesh. It stuck out like a grim warning, as he brushed his hands against his apron before removing it entirely. 
“On the contrary,” he spoke as he hung the apron against a dining chair, “I want you to get closer to him.”
You blinked, leaning your head back slightly as you processed his words.
“Wait, what?”
Alastor nodded, confirming that you didn’t just hallucinate that. He slowly walked forward, before placing a hand on your shoulder as he moved behind you.
“You see, I believe it’s in both our best interests to forge a deeper connection with our illustrious King. There are certain… opportunities that may arise from such a relationship.”
“Opportunities? What kind of opportunities are we talking about here?”
“Ah, now that would be telling, wouldn’t it? Let’s just say that there are benefits to being in the King’s inner circle. Power, influence, the chance to shape Hell itself… But I’ve said too much already. Just trust me on this one, my dear.”
Trust Alastor? Ha! That was the first joke he’s ever spoken to you that was actually funny. 
Your thoughts raced as he appeared on your other side, his claw grazing across the back of your neck as he rested his hand on your shoulder once more. 
He wanted you to what, fake your attraction to Lucifer? Wanted you to lie and manipulate him so he’d bend to your will, and carry out Alastor’s evil deeds in the guise of caring for you?
“What makes you think he’d even fall for that? He’s an angel, he’s not stupid.”
Alastor chuckled, patting your shoulder as his grin widened. “Haven’t you noticed the change in his demeanor? The little.. pep in his step? Ever since he met you that first day, he’s only grown more attached to you.”
Was that true? Sure, Lucifer seemed to be getting better, slowly. Seemed to smile more genuine as time went on. But, that couldn’t be because of you! He was reconnecting with his daughter, of course he’d be happier at the hotel.
It didn't matter, in the end. You weren’t going to do that to Lucifer. You weren’t going to ruin the one relationship that was built by trust. The question is, could you resist Alastor?
“What if I don’t want to?” You finally ground out, your firsts clenching at your sides.
Suddenly, you felt a chill around your neck, and you gasped at the sensation. You lifted one hand up, to try and feel whatever was clenching at your throat.
Your fingers wrapped around a green, metal collar that seemed to tighten as the seconds ticked by. Energy sizzled against your fingertips, like static. Eyes widening, you ripped your hand away, your feet moving on instinct to get away from him.
Your back hit the wall roughly, your heart practically beating out of your chest as you watched Alastor slowly stalk towards you. His eyes began to shift, resembling that of radio dials. Those small antlers on his head began to rapidly branch out, growing longer every step he took.
“What if you don’t want to? My, what a foolish question.”
He was just inches from your face, that toothy smile practically ear to ear as he leaned in. Lifting a hand, his claws grazed your collar bone, before traveling up towards the glowing green clasp.
A single claw hooked underneath the metal surface, pushing roughly against your throat as he tugged you harshly forward by it. 
His breath hit your face, and you scrunch your nose from the foul odor. He reeked of death.
“It seems you have forgotten who owns your soul, my dear.” He whispered in your ear. You squeezed your eyes shut, your lip quivering as he spoke.
“If you try to resist, try to fight against your chains. I’ll make sure my radio broadcast is filled with nothing but your dying screams.”
Tears pricked at your eyes, the collar only becoming colder as you writhed slightly against his touch.
“I-I’m sorr-“
“You sold your soul to me, don’t forget. If there is anyone to blame for your misfortune, it is you alone.” Alastor hissed, thrusting you even closer to him by your collar. You felt his smile crease brush against your skin, and you shivered.
You were becoming increasingly aware how sickly-yellow his teeth were, compared to Lucifer’s. Disgust began to boil in your belly as you opened your mouth.
“I’ll do it!” You whimpered, your heart pounding, “I’ll do it..”
“Wonderful.” He drawled, before leaning away from you. His claw released your collar, and it dissolved in green fog. You coughed, rubbing your neck, as Alastor took your shoulder and roughly nudged you to the door. 
It opened on its own, and you were pushed through the threshold. 
“I’m glad we could have this little chat,” Alastor’s chipper tone returned, as you stared at him with disgust, “Have a hellish rest of your day, my friend!”
The door slammed shut as he disappeared back into his room. Leaving a rush of angry tears to pool at your feet alone.
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Two weeks had passed, since Alastor told you to tug the heartstrings of the King of Hell, to play him right into your fraud-loving palms. Oh, the universe must surely hate you.
You had begun to avoid Lucifer, though. Whenever he was around, catching you at work, you’d continue your silly little chats. You began to memorize the timeframe he’d show up to the hotel, and make some kind of excuse to not be there when he knocked. Either you were out shopping for supplies, or seeing the latest movie. Anything you could think of, you’d leave and force Husker to greet Lucifer.
The guilt of knowing what would happen if Lucifer fell in love with you? It ate you up inside. You hardly slept lately, tossing and turning with terrible nightmares of drowning in that cold, dark, bottomless well. The chains tied to your feet, preventing your escape to the surface.
Would anyone care if you just let yourself sink to the bottom? 
Those thoughts were still on your mind as you did your morning jumping jacks.
You had asked Charlie to use one of her empty storage rooms as a place to practice your acrobatics, which you had started doing every night now. It was any easy escape from your troubles, on the farthest side of the hotel from the lobby, where no one could bother you.
It was a large room, with ceiling-high windows that lit the room with a light red hue. You had convinced Alastor to give you a makeshift gym as a part of your “deal”. If you were going to be forced to be the bad guy, he could at least give you a place to kick ass.
There were multiple gymnastic bars set up at different heights, two balance beams, and a small-scale tightrope. The tightrope was a thick wire connected between two poles across one side of the room, roughly the size of your torso. There was a platform attached to each pole, allowing good foot room on each side of the wire.
Tonight, you were practicing walking on your hands across the balance beam. Sweat dripped from your forehead, and you watched it land onto the leathery cover of the beam beneath you. 
You had made it halfway across, when you heard the door to the room open softly. 
“I didn’t even know there were rooms back here!” An astonished, familiar voice came from the doorway. 
What was Lucifer doing here?!
Your brain short-circuited, and your arms began to wobble beneath you. You lost your balance, and  immediately tumbled off the balance beam with a breathless “Fuck!”
Your side hit the mats below, pain bloomed from your shoulder as you lay there in defeat. You heard a high pitched yelp from behind you, and the sounds of feet pattering against the floor neared.
“You’re not dead, are you?” Lucifer laughed nervously as he kneeled beside you. He reached a hand down to your face, before he hesitated, and instead lifted his cane.
You felt soft poking against your cheek, as he prodded you with the black stick. 
“Stop that.” You grumbled into the mat, stirring slightly from the floor.
“Oh, you’re not dead! What a relief.” He said, exhaling a breath he had been holding. “I’m terribly sorry about that! I didn’t mean to scare you.”
You groaned, before lifting yourself up from the mat. You got to your feet, rubbing your shoulder tenderly.
“It’s fine, I’m fine. What are you doing here, though?” 
Lucifer processed your question for a moment, before he suddenly straightened himself up. Head held high, he strutted over to you, before halting. He glanced at you, before he began fussing with his bow-tie nonchalantly.
“Well, I came to find you.” 
“Why?” 
“Because, I wanted to speak with you. And, you’re conveniently always out of the room when I want to do that.”
Shit. Did he notice you were avoiding him? You didn’t think it was that obvious.
Lucifer watched you intensely, analyzing your reaction to his accusatory statement. He had a firm line on his lips, as if your actions didn’t bother him. 
“I’m not avoiding you.” 
“Oh, really?”
“I came here to improve my aerobatics, before you rudely interrupted me.”
“Right, like you need to improve.”
You turned to him, an eyebrow raised. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“You’re already good at it, there’s no reason for you to come here every day.”
He turned his head to face you as he spoke, and your eyes caught sight of something wiggling slightly on the top of his head. Is that apple decoration not fully attached to his hat?
Suddenly, you had an idea. A playful smile began to bloom on your lips, as you slowly made your way towards him. 
“Actually, that’s not true. I’m not that good at tightrope walking, I’ve told you that before.”
Right before he turned his head so he could trace your movements, you shot your arm above his hat, your fingers pinching around the small apple stem.
You sharply pivoted, facing him now as you walked backwards towards the tightrope platform. The apple hung behind your back, as you kept his gaze. 
“Buuut, I think I’m much better at it than you.”
“Excuse me?”
You turned to face the platform, moving your arm fluidly and taking the stem between your teeth, before lifting yourself on the white surface. 
Gripping the apple once more, you turn to him slowly, watching his eyes widen as you swing the apple between your fingers for his viewing pleasure.
“Actually, I think I'm better at this whole circus bizz than you. Look! I’m a magician even, would you like to see another trick, Your Majesty?” 
Lucifer stood there in shock, for a few moments. His red pupils darted from the swiped apple to you, before they dilated slightly. Then, he laughed, an audible ‘Ha ha!’ at your words. 
“You think you’re better at the circus than me?” Lucifer asked slowly, a mixture of disbelief and teasing in his tone.
“Without a doubt!” You called, turning to face the wire. Not giving him a second glance, a smug smile formed on your lips.
Lucifer regarded you a moment, before a mischievous grin played on his face. “Well, let’s prove it then.” 
He lifted his cane, before tapping it against the ground twice. Suddenly, you found the platform vibrating underneath your feet. Then, it began to move. You stumbled, and then fell to your knees, gripping the edges as you squeezed your eyes shut.
What the hell was happening?!
The support pole began to rise up, and up, and up, until it barely grazed against the ceiling. Slowly, you opened one eyelid, and then the other. You were still safe, clutching to the platform. The tightrope was still holding, connected to the pole across the room. 
You exhaled a side of relief, before crawling over to the edge. Your eyebrows flew up in surprise as you judged the distance to the ground, you were roughly three stories in the air!
Did.. Lucifer do that? He took “prove it” to a whole new level with this one. 
You got back onto your feet, the apple still in your palm as you placed your other hand against the support beam. Now, where was Lucifer? Did he stick you up here to starve to death?
“Hey.”
You jumped, reeling back from the voice, right towards the edge of the platform.
“Woah—hang on there now!” Lucifer quickly reached out and wrapped his fingers around your wrists, tugging you back to the center of the stand. You blinked, slowing your heart beat, as you stared in surprise.
“Lucifer? How did you get up here?”
“I can fly, remember?” 
That’s right, he did have wings. You just didn’t think he was that fast with them. Lucifer had also completely ditched his hat and overcoat, instead he was in his red and white dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up to partially expose his forearms. 
His hair was slightly disheveled, no doubt from the flight up here. It wasn’t as slicked back as before, small strands of hair sticking out messily. You thought that was adorable.
Lucifer looked down, before smiling sheepishly and withdrawing his hand from your wrist. He brushed his fingers down your hand, his nails gently grazing against your palms.
This time, you didn’t feel the cool sensation from his gold ring against your skin, as his pinky lifted from your hand.
“Now, are you going to walk across that wire, or are you going to just give me back my apple?”
You met his eyes, his gaze playful as he smirked at you. He took a step closer, and you took a step back. Slowly, your heel hit the wire, and you halted. 
Lucifer watched you expectantly, waiting for you to make a move. He probably assumed you’d turn around to cross the wire, and he’d nab the apple from behind your back.
Too bad for the King of Hell, you could walk on a tightrope backwards. You winked at him, as your feet moved fully onto the wire. You pivoted slightly every so often, your body fluidly leaning back and forth as you adjusted for balance.
Lucifer watched you, admiration in his eyes as you maneuvered your way down the tightrope. You pulled the apple from behind you, teasing it in front of his view.
“The big question is, how do you think you’re going to best me in those heels, Your Majesty?” 
Lucifer glanced down at his knee-high boots, before slowly peeling them off his feet. He placed them neatly to the side, before moving a foot to the wire.
He began to put his weight onto the tightrope, wobbling a little as he adjusted for balance. He definitely did not do this often, and you laughed softly at his failing posture.
Lucifer huffed, glancing at you, who was still moving a reasonable distance away from him. Then, a smirk played on his lips, and you saw forms begin to appear against his back. 
The red feathers of his wing’s underbelly began to glimmer in the light from the large windows behind you, as he slowly opened them to full length.
Six ethereal, majestic wings flapped gracefully behind him. They began to pivot slightly, adjusting for Lucifer’s balance much quicker and with ease.
“That is so dirty!” You laughed at him, shaking your head disapprovingly.
“Looks like I'm going to getcha!” He teased, as he began to take much more confident steps across the wire; his wings flapping softly, boosting his speed.
You took bigger, riskier steps as you closed in on the other platform. Your heartbeat racing from the challenge, adrenaline beginning to pump in your veins.
“What happens if I eat this apple?” You asked, holding up the apple to your nose, before taking a deep sniff. Licking your lips playfully, you glanced back up to Lucifer.
“A tummy ache, I'm afraid. But, hey, I'll trade you a caramel apple for that one.”
Your stomach grumbled at that, and you genuinely licked your lips at his words.
“I might consider that proposition, if you can catch up to me that is.”
You spun on your heel, facing the base of the pole, as you began to increase your pace.
It wasn’t until you felt the wire jerk under your feet, did you begin to wobble. With a hitched breath, you try to regain your balance, but to no avail.
Your foot slips, and you feel your body beginning to lean off too far to the side. Gasping in surprise, you flail your arms hoping to catch anything in your grip to stop your fall.
Right as you begin to free fall, you feel strong arms snake around yours and grip you firmly. 
“Hang on, I got you!” Lucifer practically spoke in your ear as he pulled you forward, back up onto the wire. You breathe heavily, clutching his forearms tightly as you lean in closer, catching your breath.
Large wings flapping stronger now, Lucifer held you close as you both balanced along the same small portion of the tightrope. You felt his hot breath on your face, and realized how close the two of you actually were.
Your chest was practically against his cute little bow-tie, your legs brushing against each other as you balanced on the tiny surface. The steady wing beats of the fallen angel sent wind softly grazing past your ears, cooling the heat that was beginning to creep onto your cheeks.
He was so close, and so fucking gorgeous. Forget what Alastor wanted to do, what you wanted to do was kiss this man silly. For months, you both danced at the edge of each other's hearts. Gifts of affection, words of compassion, the whole shebang. 
Yet, you’ve never looked the King in the eye and told him ‘I want you.’
Was it because you were stubbornly fighting against Alastor’s demands, that you even ignored your own true feelings? Just to spite the powerful cannibal?
Couldn’t you just look at a sexy man in peace, without anyone else watching your every move?
“Are you alright?” Lucifer asked after a moment, pulling you from your ogling.
“You saved me..” You finally breathed, eyes wide and you met his soft gaze.
“Of course I did, why wouldn’t I—”
Lucifer’s words caught in his mouth as you pressed your lips to his. He froze at the touch initially, but it only took a moment for his entire body to soften against yours. 
His hands found his way to your waist, and he pulled you flush against his body. Your fingers reached up, and you began to caress the sides of his face, twirling a few pieces of hair between your pinkies as you deepened the kiss.
The warmth that bloomed from his touch was intoxicating, your entire being craving for more as you leaned even farther into his embrace. 
His hands moved from your waist, until they brushed underneath your shirt. His palms coming up to cup the small of your back as he pressed you closer to him, as if worried you might dissipate into the air and leave him forever.
It was a good thing he had six wings to keep the two of you afloat, or else you would have been a splatter on the mats by now.
You felt Lucifer's teeth graze against your lip, and you had to fight to not bite his lip back. After a few more moments, you pulled away from his face, your breath coming out ragged as you gave him some distance. 
Lucifer blinked a few times, his eyebrows beginning to raise slowly as a dopey smile danced onto his lips.
“I really enjoyed that, but we should probably get on solid ground, don't you think?” He laughed breathlessly, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he looked at you adoringly.
You reached up, brushing the few loose strands out of his eyes, before nodding. “That is a good idea.” 
“Well, just hang on.” Lucifer replied with a mischievous grin, and you opened your mouth to question him. Before you could get a word out, you felt him begin to lean backwards, pulling you along with him. 
You yelped and squeezed your eyes shut, as you began to free fall on top of him. Lucifer only hugged you closer, before his wings shot open, slowing your descent. 
Carefully, you peeled your eyelids open to the two of you gliding softly down, as Lucifer circled the pole lazily. Your feet swung in the air, and the wind rushed past your ears. The adrenaline rush causing you to laugh in glee as you felt your feet hit a hard surface.
You both stood there in silence for a few moments, the weight of what just transpired finally settling on top of you. 
Holy shit, you just kissed the King of Hell! From trying to stay as far away from him, to getting as close as physically possible. What a twist.
“Well, now that we’re down here,” Lucifer began slowly, his gaze meeting yours with a playful roll of his eyebrows, “we could continue our previous.. discussion.” 
You almost obliged, until you heard the familiar call of Charlie, as she searched for her father. You tensed in his grip, before pulling away from his hold. A pout formed on Lucifer’s lips at the absence of your touch, before he straightened himself. 
Snapping his fingers, that familiar white overcoat magically materialized onto his figure, along with his wide brim hat. Your eyes landed onto that spot where the missing apple usually was, and then you noticed how empty both your hands were.
“Your apple! I think I dropped it when I almost fell.” You explain apologetically.
“Oh, you mean this apple?”
Lucifer pulled the red, gleaming trophy from beneath his overcoat. He threw it in the air a few times, catching it gracefully. A silent boast as he grinned at you. Your mouth only hung agape, as you scanned the apple for any imperfections.
“There is no way you took that from me! How do I know you didn’t just make that?”
“Woah! Sounds like someone is a sore loser.” Lucifer laughed, before turning towards the door, he kept his gaze on yours as he did so, walking backwards as he talked.
Slowly, you kept pace with him, shaking your head in disbelief at his words. He was just as preoccupied as you, sucking on your face, you couldn’t believe he actually took it from you in the chaos.
“At least we settled the little debate, hm? Seems like i’m better at these kinds of things than you. Just like I said.”
“We’ll definitely come back and test that theory with your wings bound this time.”
“Oh, will we? Is that a challenge?”
Lucifer halted at the doorway, and you stopped a few footsteps away. You batted your eyelashes at him, grinning playfully, “it’s a promise, actually.” 
He grinned at that, before he leaned in closer, curiosity gleaming in his eyes.
“So, you haven’t been avoiding me, then?” 
‘Not this again.’ You groaned internally.
“No, I haven’t. I’m sorry, I’ve just got a lot on my mind lately.” You quickly spoke, an apologetic look on your face. Would he buy your lie?
“And you’ll tell me when something is wrong, right?” 
You cracked him an assuring smile, “of course!” You lied through pearly-white teeth. 
Lucifer nodded approvingly at that, before he glanced out of the room. You both could hear Charlie a hallway or two away, and she seemed frantic to find her father. Lucifer only sighed, before turning to you.
“Looks like I’ll be seeing you real soon, Darling.” He promised, bowing his head slightly to you. You wanted to scold him for that, about lowering his head to someone of lower class, if he did that in public no doubt the citizens of Hell would mock him for it.
But, you weren’t in public. You were alone, with someone you cherished, able to whisper all your secrets, hopes, and dreams to someone you trusted most. If only you could tell him the truth, and not be stuck here drowning in your own lies.
Lucifer gave you one final glance, before he turned away, strolling through the hall away from your room. A happy whistle came from his lips, and you could hear it slowly fading as he moved away.
Backing up, you plopped down on a bench on the side of the room. The recent events hit you like a freight train, and you realized how terribly stupid you were.
How were you supposed to protect Lucifer from whatever plan Alastor had in store for him, if you were going to keep disregarding your brain for your weak little heart? 
Yes, Lucifer was the most powerful being in Hell, far more powerful than that red demon. But, he was also a sad, lonely angel. Who craved affection and attention, which he seemed to want solely from you and Charlie. 
If your life were in danger, would he be stupid and risk his own for you? He wouldn’t, he couldn’t. Your filthy, sinning soulless self wasn’t worth the trouble.
You just wish Lucifer would see that. 
For an hour, you paced the perimeter of the room. Your thoughts clear as you evaluated all the metaphorical cards in your hand. If Husk taught you anything about gambling, it was always to call your opponents bluff before he had a chance to do it to you.
Your feet halted suddenly, your heart beating rapidly in your chest as you stared through the large windows. Your thoughts settling as you watched the waning light.
You weren’t some pushover, some scared little child in need of protection. You weren’t going to let some murderous psychopath take any more control of your life. You were going to call the shots this time, even if that meant being dragged by the throat into that well.
As long as everyone you cared about, even Husker, made it out.
There was only one plan of action you saw ahead. And, it was not going to be the easy route.
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“I’m done.” 
Alastor halted, the wall sconces in the hallway illuminating his sharp grin as he heard the words leave your lips. It had been four days since you decided you were going to stand against him.
“Pardon?” The words left his lips slowly, his head cracking in-humanely to one side, his ears twisting to face you. 
“I said I’m done deceiving for you. I’m not going to lie to Lucifer, or anyone else, for any longer.”
Alastor didn’t say anything, his back still turned to you. His claws tapped against his microphone, rhythmic and loud as he processed your words.
“Is that so?” 
“Yes, and I don’t care what you have to say about it. There’s more to the world than power, Alastor.”
You felt something cold tugging against your neck, that familiar, sickening sensation returning to your body. You sucked in a large breath, calming your rapid heartbeat. 
Green illuminated your face as you felt something heavy begin to weigh on your body. Alastor held one of his hands out, before flicking his wrist with a painful pop sound. 
The chain snapped forward from the collar around your throat, snaking around your figure as it wove to Alastor’s palm, its green glow casting eerie shadows against the walls. You struggled against its hold, feeling the cold, metallic links digging into your skin. Alastor's laughter echoed through the hallway, a chilling sound that sent shivers down your spine.
"You dare defy me?" Alastor's voice was low, dangerous. "You forget your place, little puppet."
Panic surged through you as you fought against the chain, but it only tightened its hold, squeezing the air from your lungs. You gasped for breath, your vision blurring as darkness threatened to consume you.
"Perhaps a reminder is in order," Alastor said, his tone dripping with malice. "A lesson in obedience."
“Don’t you have any more tricks in the book than this fucking chain?” You growled between gasps, the back of your head sliding against the floor as you twisted against its metal grasp. “C’mon Al, this is just embarrassing.”
Immediately, his face contorted into a look into a large, crooked smile. His eyes shifted to resemble radio dials, as he harshly yanked you towards him. Your cheek slid across the carpet, and you felt the sting of rug burn bloom across your face.
‘Don’t let him see you scared, don’t let him win.’ You begged yourself internally, as you held your tears back. 
Alastor’s face began to change, his features sharpening drastically, that crooked smile growing all the more larger. His antlers branched farther from his head, gnarling together in twisting designs above his ears. 
Even his hair began to stand on end, as he stalked closer to you. Shadows enveloped the hall, like a fog rolling in. Obscuring the sight of your eventual corpse, as Alastor wrapped the chain around his arm, keeping it taut as he closed in.
“The only embarrassment,” He started, his voice flickering into pure static at his rage, “will be how fast it takes for your s̴͔̓̌̍ç̵̯̮͍͆̿r̷̼̥̿̒̊̐e̸͙̣̯͛̽̒a̷͈̼͗ͅm̵̮͑͛͆s̴̻͊̽̑ to die on your t̸̝͓̆͌͝ö̷̻͚̩̎͊n̸̨̘̭͍̕g̵̱̝͍̈́͛̍ͅû̶̞̼̲͜é̴̺, when I rip your h̷̟̣͚̅̏̔̚͜ë̵̺͙́́a̶͉͙̤͆͋r̶̼̈́͝t̴͙̯̕ out of your throat.”
Archaic symbols danced your vision as Alastor’s entire body seemed to contort into jagged edges, his arms and legs doubling in length, as his hunched back hit the ceiling of the hallway. His crooked neck lowered, his head itching closer. One claw coming out to hook  underneath you collar, pulling you up by the neck. 
“What will our dear King do then, when he finds your mangled body on his front door?” 
You snarled, trying to tear away from his grip. How dare he still try and bring Lucifer into this, even when the fallen angel could pulverize him in an instant. Couldn’t he face you one to one? 
The Radio Demon’s eyes flickered a darker red, and you feel the collar begin to tighten around your throat, squeezing the breath from your airways. You gasped, tears pricking at your eyes as you clawed at your neck in a poor attempt to stop the sensation.
“Alastor? Is everything alright over there?” 
Suddenly, the squeezing at your throat dispersed like fog, as the collar and chain vanished into thin air. You were left on the floor, sputtering for breath, as Alastor quickly pivoted towards the voice. His body instantly shifted back to normal, with quiet pops and clicks as his joints squeezed back into place.
It was Vaggie, coming down the hall, her eye staring suspiciously at his shaded form. 
Clutching your bruising throat, you stumble onto your feet. Your back hits the wall, and you use it for support to catch your breath.
Alastor straightened his suit, his expression morphing into its usual grin as if nothing had happened. “Oh, everything’s just dandy, Vaggie. Just having a delightful little chat with our friend here.” He gestured casually toward you, his tone dripping with false cheerfulness. “Isn’t that right?” He raised an eyebrow, his eyes glinting with an unknown expression.
“Yeah—cough—sorry, just choked on the water I was drinking.”
“Right. Listen, Alastor, I wanted to talk to you in private. If that’s okay with you.” Vaggie said, gesturing down the hall.
“Of course, it’s always a pleasure speaking with you, my dear!” You didn’t miss the way Alastor’s eye twitched, as if he was not thrilled about having to leave. But, he was deceiving everyone else, too. Which meant he had to play his little part to a T.
“I’m just.. going to go. I’m not feeling so well.” You muttered to the pair, before darting around the corner, out of sight. 
You ran to your room, slamming your door behind you. Your back hit its frame, before slowly sliding down until your bottom hit the carpet. Tears of anger flowed down your cheeks, as you continued to rub your neck.
Fuck. Why were you so powerless?! If only you had even a sliver of magic in you, you could have defied him better. Now, what was Alastor going to do? 
‘What did you expect?’ A part of your mind hissed scoldingly, ‘You just tried to fight the demon that owns your soul, and got your ass handed to you.’
You growled, rising to your feet. Frustration, sadness, pain, everything seeped out of you, and you felt like killing someone in that moment.
“It’s better—”
You picked up a spare shoe from the ground, your nails digging into it as you bared your teeth. Swinging it behind you, you vaulted it towards the opposite wall.
“—than doing nothing at all!” 
You heard glass shattering, and watched shards spill from the mirror above your dresser. You could see your face, partially obscured in its remaining reflection. You could see the slight purple marks around your neck, see the tears spilling from your cheeks.. see that dark look on your features, like you actually would kill somebody.
Reeling back, you placed your knuckles to your lips. Maybe, to stop that lip from quivering so violently. That face in the mirror reminded you of everything you hated about this wretched place.
And, now, you were becoming just like him. You stepped backwards, trying to distance yourself from the reflection, before the back of your legs hit the side of your bed, and you sank into the mattress. You wrapped your arms around your knees, curling into a ball as you sobbed the frustration out of you.
You could still feel the dark magic sizzling against your neck, as if it refused to release you of its hold just yet.
It wasn’t until you heard soft rapping of knuckles against glass did you lift your head. Turning towards the balcony doors, your eyes widen at the sight of the familiar figure standing outside. His silhouette illuminated by the dark red hues of the evening light, as he waved through the frosted glass.
“I see you over there! Can you let me in for a moment?” 
What was Lucifer doing here?! This was terrible timing for him to make an appearance! But, he knows you're there, can see your silhouette through the glass as you sit there on the bed. You sighed, quickly cleaning your face of tears, and taking a few deep breaths.
“Come in.” You called hoarsely, cracking the best smile you could muster.
The glass doors slowly pushed out of them, and Lucifer quietly shimmied through the cracks. He pivoted to face you, a large smile on his lips as he squinted at you through the darkness of your room.
“I’m so glad you’re here, I was just about to leave and then I remembered I never gave you your caramel apple!” 
Lucifer began to stroll forward, your face becoming less obscured in the shadows as he closed in. You tried to shrink away slightly, turning your knees away from him so he couldn’t see them quivering slightly.
“I put a layer of chocolate on it too, and so—wait, why are you crying?” His gaze intensified, as your face finally illuminated in the light.
“I-it’s nothing! I just had something in my eye!” You lied, cracking a wider smile.
“What are those marks on your neck?” Lucifer ignored your excuse, as he stalked closer to you. His eyes constantly scanning your figure looking for any more oddities. 
“Please, Lucifer.. I’m just tired and-”
“What is this?”
Lucifer had asked, his pupils dilated, trained on something against your throat. Something more than the small purple marks.
You began to rub your thumbs together in a soothing motion as you watched him move closer to you. Gulping, you parted your lips to speak.
You didn’t get a chance to say anything, before his hand gingerly lifted towards you. His nail grazed against your collarbone, and heat blossomed underneath your skin from his touch. 
‘Please, just stop here,’ you silently begged, eyes squeezing shut as his finger rested against your figure, ‘don’t ruin this moment by digging any farther.’
Your reaction only spurred him, however. Lucifer’s eyes narrowed, his pupils thin slits now as he watched you.
Slowly, his finger trailed upward, skin brushing softly against yours as he traced the invisible force only a powerful demon could see. Your heart beat rapidly in your chest, every movement of his only quickening its pace. 
Until his hand stopped, right in the middle of your neck, and you felt a sizzling against your skin. The heat was becoming too much, and you wanted to pull away from his touch. You didn’t, instead, you tensed, deathly still before him.
A soft golden light illuminated from Lucifer’s palm, as his fingers wrapped around an invisible object. A shadow formed in his grip, and he tugged at it, that glow in his palm growing stronger.
Backing away, he yanked a long, thin chain from your figure, as if trying to free you of a parasite that found a home deep in your bones. As he stepped backwards, it only dragged across the floor, still connected to your neck as it lengthened.
A thick, metal collar snuggly encompassed your throat. The chain locked tightly against it, a vivid reminder of your poor decisions.
Lucifer’s palm slid across the cold, metal links. Eldritch magic seeped from its form in the shroud of thick fog. Archaic symbols danced at the edge of your vision as its glow illuminated Lucifer’s unreadable expression.
The chain was a sickly green, its harsh glow an annoyance to his eyes. It was embedded with a dark, chilling magic. Whispers of untold horrors and ancient curses coiling around you, promises of a fate worse than death. 
Lucifer could practically smell it, that red demon's aura as it encircled around your frame. A twisted signature, practically scrawled across your forehead like a stamp of ownership.
Oh, the audacity of a person to take such a kind soul and rip it away from its owner. 
You weren’t some dog to be beckoned at the flick of a wrist. You were so much more than that, you deserved so much more than that. 
Yet here you were, the clasp around your neck like a shadowed hand, softly squeezing the life out of your eyes. He could see it, clear as day.
Small, white horns protruded from his head as he clenched the chain tighter. He tugged it once, twice, as if testing its durability. You leaned back slightly, the chain becoming taught between the two of you.
That collar around your throat kept you locked in place, as you watched him turn the chain in his hands. For a moment, Lucifer’s figure melded into the horrid shadow of your owner, and your eyes widened in fear at your delusion.
You could see it, feel it. Your stomach brushing the stained carpet beneath you with that haunting figure bent in a sickly, twisted angle in front you. That chain wrapped around the radio demon’s hand as he threatened you with terrible acts if you failed to stay in line.
Seeing your face contort into pained anguish only caused him to bare his teeth slightly, the sharp edges glinting in the light.
Seeing it so deeply entwined with your very being only further spurred the king’s anger. It seeped quietly from him, his grip tight against the chains as if trying to snap them with his bare hands.
“Who did this?” He hissed, his gaze boring into yours. He wanted to hear you say that demon’s name, wanted to hear you confirm the truth that was so obvious in front of him. 
You knew he wasn’t angry at you, but still you bowed your head slightly. Averting your gaze from his pleading eyes, shame slowly clawing at your stomach. For a moment, you felt like throwing up. Wanting to rid yourself of the terrible feeling that was seeping into your skin.
You felt like crying, or throwing yourself into his arms. Wanting to melt into his hold, and be told again and again that everything would be alright. That the most powerful man in hell would come to your rescue.
But, deals that bartered in souls are a much more difficult magic to conquer.
Fighting the urge to collapse into his embrace, you steeled yourself. Hands planted against your knees, back straight in a pathetic attempt to have some kind of power in this moment. 
Your eyes sullenly traced across the harsh links of the chain, its form all too familiar by now. Yet, it still caused such grief in your bones no matter how many times you looked upon it over the years.
Slowly, your eyes shifted to meet his gaze. Your lips curved into a frown at his expression, and your predicament.
How were you supposed to tell the love of your life your soul didn’t belong to you? That you were trapped in a deal of your own making? 
Curse that little fine line in your deal that kept your mouth sealed shut, that prevented you from uttering his name.
“I-I..” You desperately tried to speak, to tell him the truth, but that invisible hand that pulled at your tongue forced your silence. Tears pricked at your eyes, the desperation in them evident as your attempts to explain only died behind those pretty lips of yours.
As your mouth shut in frustration, Lucifer’s anger only heightened. His eyes flared into a blood-red glow, a harsh change from that soft yellow radiance you often found yourself lost in.
He pivoted harshly away, his voice contorting into a snarl as he stalked out of the room. His overcoat appeared atop his shoulders, and it swished behind him as he moved. 
Lucifer’s thoughts were too tangled with the images of his claws wrapping around the deal-makers throat to sit there and console you.
The tears that had threatened to spill finally rolled down your cheeks, your lip quivering as your eyes lingered on the doorway he had just exited. His thoughts too mangled with the image of his claws wrapping around the deal-makers throat to sit there and console you.
Placing your face into your hands, you sobbed quietly. 
Oh, how that regret had begun to consume you as you continued to wallow in your self-pity. 
Regret, for thinking that giving away your soul was a simple feat. That somehow, you’d still be happy after the fact. 
Regret, for falling in love when you knew the deal that kept you to that deer demon’s side would never allow you to enjoy such a fleeting emotion. No matter how hard you clawed to Lucifer’s soft embrace, that chain would always be there to drag you back. 
Those soft whispers of affections, of promises you couldn’t keep. Knowing, one day, that constant-smiling demon could play his little games and tear you away from your lover’s hold forever.
Oh, what a lovestruck idiot you are. 
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Lucifer’s feet carried him back to the lobby, his eyes glowing as he noticed the cat-demon, Husk, cleaning glasses behind the bar. He sharply turned in his direction, surely, this other being 
“You, bartender.” Lucifer hissed, as he lifted himself up onto the barstool, crossing one leg over the other. Acting as if only wanting to have a friendly chat with the demon. His claws extended slightly, as they tapped impatiently against the countertop. 
Husker looked up from the glass in his hands, his eyes bored and his mouth a thin line as he worked. It wasn’t until he saw Lucifer’s deadly expression did he drop the glass immediately, ears slightly pinned to his head, before straightening his back to address the king.
“I-uh, how can I help you, Your Majesty?” 
Lucifer’s lips upturned into a lopsided grin, those sharp teeth on full display. That’s right, some people have to remember exactly who they are dealing with.
“Where is your master?”
Husk paused, regarding Lucifer for a moment with an eyebrow raised. He was very aware of the tension between the two powerful demons, but he didn’t expect the King of Hell would go looking for Alastor.
“I’m not sure, sir. You could bring it up with Charlie when she gets back, I’m sure she knows more than little ol’ me.” 
Lucifer grimaced slightly at that. Of all the people in the hotel, his daughter was the last one he’d want to bring into this whole debacle.
“There’s got to be something you must know, bartender. He owns your soul too, does he not?”
“What, you think I keep track of the guy or something?” 
“No, but you should,” Lucifer snarled, leaning over the counter, causing Husk to reel back slightly, “it’s clear no one here keeps eyes on that filth, enough to stop him from hurting people in this very hotel.”
Husk seemed to deflate at that. Those long, feathery eyebrows of his lowering slightly as an unreadable expression crossed his face. He set the glass down, before sharply turning away from Lucifer.
“He’s usually in his room, by now,” Husk spoke quietly after a moment, “down the left hall, last door on the right. Ya can’t miss it.”
Lucifer didn’t give thanks, instead he tapped his cane at his side, and golden waves circled around him. In an instant, the King was gone, a few pieces of gold dust landing softly against the barstool. 
“Asshole.” Husk muttered, before popping open a bottle of liquor and lifting it to his lips.
Lucifer opened his eyes to see a large door in front of his face, green symbols glittered against its frame, etched into the wood with practiced precision.
Only Lucifer could see them, though. Only powerful wielders of such a force could see these runes. Magical spells, cast upon the room. Protection, defense, muffling, everything an evil guy could dream of.
Although, the demon’s magic was strange. Unfamiler, even. Seems like he’s been dabbling in a new form of sorcery.
Lucifer stood there, for a few moments. He didn’t knock at the door, or jiggle the handle. The Radio Demon was not the one in control here, so he simply waited impatiently for an answer.
“I know you’re in there, you rat.” Lucifer hissed, the horns poking from his head continuing to rise. “I know you can hear me. Why don’t you do us both a favor and show yourself, or are you too much of a coward now?” 
Slowly, the door to Alastor’s room creaked open. The interior obscured by thick shadows, with soft lights flickering from the edges of the room as Lucifer continued to stand there.
“Your Majesty!” A cheerful voice called from the shadows of the room, and Lucifer bared his teeth at the tone. “What an honor to have someone like you gracing my presence. Please, come in!”
Lifting his head high again, Lucifer took a confident step into the room. He had every right to be, even in the demon’s own abode, the King’s powers were unmatched. 
Lucifer’s lips curled into a sneer at the saccharine greeting. “Save the pleasantries, rat. We both know why I’m here.”
As Lucifer stepped further into the room, the door behind him remained wide open, the light from the hallway illuminating the King’s figure. Alastor’s silhouette still danced within the shadows, the glow of his red eyes illuminating the space as he carefully followed the King’s movements.
“Ah, but do we really, Your Majesty? Enlighten me.”
Lucifer’s eyes narrowed, his patience wearing thin. “You have an uncanny knack to create suffering with everything you touch. Now, you pull the strings of innocent lives. Do you thirst for power that fucking badly, to make a deal for someone’s soul?”
“They made a deal on their own whim,” Alastor retorted, waving his hands in a sweeping motion, brushing off the accusation, “How could I say no to such an offer? I’m a demon, if you can recall.”
The lights in the room began to flicker with renewed life, and Alastor’s sharp grin only made the fallen angel want to tear it from his face.
“Demons like you deserve to be ground into dust.” Lucifer snarled, closing the distance between the two. He lifted his head, meeting Alastor’s piercing gaze. His claws wrapped around the Radio Demon’s black bow tie, and he harshly tugged him down to his eye level.
Alastor stared at the grip with a deathly silence, his face contorting into sharper features, his pupils taking the dialed form once more. 
Energy crackled in the room, a mix of both demon’s powers as the tension only continued to escalate. Alastor didn’t move from the hold, he knew better than to test that fate. 
The lines above Lucifer’s lips scrunching as he stared at the demon with disgust. “You steal the souls of those weaker than you to fill that emptiness in your own, it’s pathetic.”
“Maybe.” Alastor shrugged nonchalantly, before a green spark sizzled against his bow-tie, and it limply fell from his clothing in Lucifer grip. He turned away, stalking towards the cutting board on the counter.
“Don’t walk away from me, you freak. Lest I do everyone in this hotel a favor and remove you from existence right here.”
A dark chuckle bounced against the walls, filling the room as Alastor kept his back to Lucifer. “Ah, but if you kill me, they die too. Souls entwined with each other, you see. Such a dilemma, wouldn’t you say?”
Lucifer gritted his teeth, cursing his oversight. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath.
Alastor’s voice took on a sly tone. “But fear not, Your Majesty. I’m not without mercy. I understand the affection you hold for such a.. charming demon.”
Lucifer’s gaze hardened, suspicion clouding his features. “What do you want?”
“Why don’t we.. make a d̴̻͉̺̆è̴̛͎̟̖̻͐a̵̭̫͆͆̽l̸͓͍̽̆̀̕?” Alastor’s tone crackled with static, as he spun to face the fallen angel. His head tilting curiously to one side, watching Lucifer’s expression.
Lucifer laughed, an audible ha-ha as the words left Alastor’s lips. He twisted his cane between his fingers, his claws leaving small etched lines trailing behind his movements.
“A deal with you? Do you actually expect me to give you my soul?”
Alastor’s grin widened, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Oh, not your soul, silly! It’s nothing too extravagant. Just a little exchange of power. After all, what’s a deal between demons?”
“And, what exactly does this deal entail?”
Alastor paused for a moment, his intense gaze never leaving. “I have.. a few affairs I never got to settle when I died. I’d like to be able to return to that filthy place, whenever and wherever I want.”
“That’s it?” Lucifer asked in disbelief, his head leaning back slightly as he processed the demon’s words. “You want access to the human realm? You’re standing before the King of Hell! Why not simply ask for my title?”
Damnit, Lucifer, is it really the time to get your pride twisted?
“Oh, I couldn’t be bothered to bare such responsibilities of a king. I’d take your strength in a heartbeat though, but we both know you aren’t powerful enough to bless me with such a gift.”
The mockery in Alastor’s tone of the fallen angels' lack of heavenly abilities, spurred Lucifer. Who’s horns were fully out for view now, that small fire licking hungrily between them.
“Well? What is it going to be, Your Majesty?” Alastor hummed, his nails clicking against the countertop. “Do you want their soul or not?”
A demon like Alastor, being granted the ability to leap from the realms? It was much different than giving Amsodueus’ little spawns access via that orange crystal, who didn’t hold the kind of magic the demon before him did. 
What would he do when he was up there? Steal more souls? Go on a slaughter spree? There was no telling with the twisted man before him.
But… it was Heaven’s problem. Wasn’t it? It was them who cast Lucifer away from the place he helped create, and now it was their job to clean up the messes.
“Why would you give me something of such value for something like that?” Lucifer asked after a  moment.
“Because your little lover is a deep pain in my side, always disrespecting and challenging my words. If it wasn’t for that silver tongue of theirs, I’d have killed them ages ago.”
Lucifer growled, golden flames dancing on his fingertips at Alastor’s words. 
“They also don’t have any value. No power, no status, just a beggar on the street when I found them all those years ago. You could say I only made such a deal because I pitied their pathetic existence.”
‘If this guy keeps talking, I might just have to kill him.’
Time stood still in that room for a moment, the ending of the song playing from the radio the only indicator that the realm was still moving around them.
“I’m waiting~” Alastor sung, both demons locking eyes with each other across the room instensly.
As Lucifer weighed the consequences, a firm line set on his lips as he nodded. "Very well, Alastor," he said, extending a hand towards the demon. "We have a deal."
Their hands met in a firm shake, and as their fingers intertwined, a surge of dark energy crackled between them. Wisps of shadow and flame danced around their clasped hands, swirling around the duo.
Alastor was lost in a maniacal fit of laughter, as large eyes and symbols danced around him. That smile on his lips changed, as lines of thread locking his teeth together, as if someone had forcefully stitched that grin in place.
The air itself seemed to tremble with the force of their agreement, and the room pulsed with an otherworldly energy. The very fabric of reality seemed to warp and bend around them as the terms of their pact solidified.
Suddenly, you burst into the room, your eyes widening in fear as you saw the two demon’s hands entwined. You placed a hand to your mouth in shock, as you realized exactly what they were doing.
“Oh, no no no NO!” You cried hoarsely against the loud rushing wind, pushing you against the wall. What kind of deal was Lucifer making?! 
With a final burst of darkness, the pact was sealed, and both demons drew back. Alastor’s eyes gleamed with newfound power. His aura crackled with renewed strength, and the demon’s grin widened with satisfaction.
His eyes landed on you, a twisted smirk on his lips as he vanished in a plume of smoke. The intensity of it causing your eyes to water, and to fall into a fit of coughs.
The echoes of their agreement lingered in the air in a mixture of green and gold sparks of energy. Lucifer stood alone in the room, before he took a step backwards, stumbling slightly as you reached him. 
Taking his arm, you yank him out of the room, into the hallway. You scan over his figure, your heartbeat quickening as you search for any kind of injuries.
“What did you do? You didn’t make a deal for your soul, did you?!” You cried in panic, your hands on both sides of Lucifer’s face as he blinked away the fog from behind his eyes.
“Of course, I didn’t.” Lucifer muttered between your palms, “I simply gave him some power that he can go fuck off with for the rest of eternity.”
“But.. he c-could—oh, why would you do that?! That was so stupi—”
Lucifer quickly wrapped his fingers around your forearms, shaking you gently to get you to look at him. The slits of his pupils trained intently on your look of distraught.
“For you!” He growled, and you slammed your mouth shut. His breath was ragged, his lips downturned into a painful frown as he watched your lip begin to quiver.
“I made a deal to exchange your soul for a little power, because I cannot bare seeing you suffer any longer. Do you get that? I walked into your bedroom, to find you bruised and in tears. Over what, spilled milk?!”
“I can take it, I've been taking it.” You cried, arms shaking as you fidgeted in his hold. Shame clawing at your throat. Why did you have to be so fucking useless when it came to things like this?
“No! Stop that. Stop lying to me! That ‘everything is fine and dandy’, when it’s not. I’m the goddamn King of Hell, and I can’t even protect you because you refuse to let anyone prove that you matter.”
Lucifer squeezed his eyes shut, head leaning into your shoulder as he took a deep breath. Your scent easing his anger slowly as he sunk into your embrace.
“You matter so much to me, you and Charlie. If I have to make a deal with a douchebag like him, to save your soul, then so be it. I don’t care what he takes from me.” 
Tears spilled from your cheeks, and you wrapped your arms around his neck. You both fell to your knees, and it was your turn to lean into his embrace. Your shoulders shook as you sobbed into his chest.
You were finally free from that monster. He couldn’t hurt you anymore, couldn’t lay a finger on you without consequence. Yet, your tears were also of sadness. You had tried so hard to prevent this, to prevent Lucifer from being selfless and allowing Alastor to win. 
You felt hands gently rubbing at your back, a soothing motion that quelled your quivering figure slightly. It was so warm, like laying in front of a lively fireplace. You wanted to stay there forever.
You were so tired. The mental exhaustion that had been plaguing your mind all these months finally slamming into you, and you lay there limp against his embrace.
“Please.. please don’t cry. I love you, I love you.” Lucifer whispered softly, his voice cracking as he pulled you deeper into his hold. He kept repeating those words, ‘I love you’, as he placed soft kisses against your forehead.
You felt the soft touch of feathers graze against your ears, and cracked open an eye to see Lucifer’s wings engulfing the both of you. They nestled into you, rubbing against your cheek softly, lulling you into a sleepy daze.
“I’ve got you, I promise.” Lucifer whispered into your ear. “You’re safe, you’re loved, I'm so sorry.” 
You placed a soft kiss to his collarbone, and snuggled deeper into his chest. Thankfully, no one was around to bother the two of you as you sat on the floor in the hall.
Just five minutes. That’s all you needed, five minutes basking in his warmth, in his soft words of affection. Five minutes to promise yourself you’d never let him do something like this again.
And maybe, everything would be alright. 
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you guys 😭 i made sure this fic was cooked, damnit!! A little more fast-paced than usual, but I hope you can forgive me for that. i also could not settle on what kind of deal alastor wanted to make, so i blind drew out of a hat. i just wanted to bring in a little drama, and it’s hard when one of them is can be easily bodied haha
i honestly have to stop telling yall how long I think my fics will be bc i said “oh i want this to be as long as artist!reader pt. 4”, yet it’s roughly 6-7k over it someone kill me
let me know what you think 🫶
[Lucifer] taglist: @ohnoivefallen @doodlebob2726 @coleisyn @loslox @sukxma @undertale-is-sansational @nehy019 @mixplara @chewbrry @yellowsubiesdance @airwolf92 @laurenlaurie @lxkeee @jellybellyrulez @catnoirsleftnut @mbruben-stein @mint129106 @froggybich @moonlovers34 @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @lil-bexie @lowkeyhottho @wings-of-sapphire @the-tortured-poet @enigmatic-blues @bethleeham @blue122 @cherry-4200 @azullynx @luzzbuzz @for-hearthand-home
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roseloon · 3 months
Text
DONT SMELL THE FLOWERS! JJK BOYS
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a/n: never done something like this before .. so this was new 🤭
cw: smut, p in v smut, rough sex, sex pollen fic kinda, cervix fucking, raw sex (wrap b4 you tap), overstimulation, squirting, clit stim, i think that’s it
minors and ageless blogs do not interact. 18+ only!
NANAMI:
In his defense, he’s always been a sucker for a pretty flower. How in the world was he supposed to know they were the “special” kind of flowers?
And yes, the box did explicitly say not to open in warm temperature, and you did send a text to nanami letting him know you’d had a delivery coming sometime today .. so reflecting on it now, maybe this was his fault.
he feels the effects minutes after leaving the flower in a vase on the table. it starts with a heat in his chest, traveling all throughout his body and leaving his legs weak.
and then he begins to feel hot, like .. really hot, like really, really hot. his head spins as he takes a sip of his water, breathing heavily as he feels his abdomen clench. the blonde looks down, and groans when he sees a tent in his pants.
“babe? m’home!” you call, eyes looking out at the dark living room. with a flick of the light, you illuminate the room. your eyes travel, scanning over the empty living room until you see a very familiar bouquet of flowers laying in a pink vase on the counter.
nanami appears with a glass of water in his hand, breathing harshly as he stumbles around. his eyes land on you and you’re barely able to ask how his day was before he practically slams the glass on the table before grabbing your face and kissing you.
the kiss is hot and sloppy, and you are almost surprised that your nanami, who is usually so uptight and neat is being is much more different today.
his hands wander all over your body as he swiftly and easily fumbles your bag out of your hands, he walks you to the couch with his lips still moving against yours frivolously. once your back his the soft of the bed nanami is already parting your thighs with desperate hands.
“did you touch my flowers?” you ask him, and you think he doesn’t even hear the question as begins to suck a hickey at your neck a little harshly as his finger slips into your panties. nanami uses a finger to rub your clit a first, all the while leaving hot and wet kisses over your neck as he feels more desperate for you than he’s ever felt his life.
“you smell .. so fucking good. god, i wanna fucking eat you y/n.” his voice is dark and needy as nanami speaks into your ear, briefly taking a break from sucking bruises into the brown skin of your neck.
he presses a finger at your pussy, not even surprised that you’re already wet from a kiss. he doesn’t stop though, kissing you once more as he now pushes his digit through your tight walls, letting out a beautiful groan when he feels your warm pussy clench around his finger.
“your skirt. take it the hell off.” he breathes against your lips. nanami pulls out his finger and allows you literally one second to slip your skirt off before watching you lay back with a smile.
nanami kisses you once more, fumbling with his belt as he doesn’t stop giving you hot kisses. he just wants to eat you up, your pussy, your lips, your tits, everything .. he wants to taste your sweetness again, and again and again until you get tired of him.
nanami presses his cock right a the center of your cunt, gripping the soft fabric of the pillows near your head as he fucks up into your pussy with one big, hard thrust.
it knocks the fucking wind out of you, leaving you breathless as nanami doesn’t stop. he pushes his hips up, up until you’re practically going just as dumb as him from getting your tiny little pussy stretched out.
your arms wrap around his neck out of instinct, and your beautiful lips part in a silent moan as nanami begins to set a brutal pace .. fucking you like an animal in heat as he gets lost in feel the feel of your tight pussy. you mewl and moan for him, squirm and scream as his stiff cock plunges through those tight walls of yours with each and every thrust .. leaving you lost in pleasure.
“f-fuck!” you whimper, eyes beginning to water as nanami angel his hips to hit your g-spot which makes you actually lose your mind. each thrust from him is punctured, and hard with the clear intent to make you cum.
“smell so good .. so good baby,” nanami weakly moans the words into your ear as he keep his pace up, cock now directly hitting your cervix as he shift his hips to get as deep as possible into your slutty walls. and you accept him happily, pussy clenching tightly around you as you hold onto nanami for dear life .. eyes shutting painfully as your abdomen clenches with the indication of a powerful orgasm.
SUGURU:
suguru ends up opening the flowers out of pure curiosity, eyes widening as he examines the beautiful pink color of the flowers. within minutes of carefully putting the bouquet back into the delivery box he begins to feel .. weird.
his head spins as he tries to look around the dimly lit apartment. suguru flops on the couch, eyes hazy and low sunken as he tries to take a deep breath and understand what the fuck is going on with his body. his fingers tremble as he fumbles with the remote, changing to a random channel to distract himself.
all suguru can think about right now is how fucking turned on he is. he misses you, he wants you now, wants to kiss you and feel your warm body up. and it’s so unlike him to be so .. needy.
“suguru? you home?” you call out, shrugging your jacket off and placing it on the coat hanger. at the sound of your voice suguru rises from the couch, turning the tv off as he strides over to you.
“how was your day—” your words are cut off with a sloppy kiss. you’re caught completely off guard as your boyfriend pushes you against the front door. his lips are hot and his breath is uneven as he continues to lay kisses all over you.
“missed you..” he says in between heated kisses. he uses a hand to lift your leg up, wrapping it around his waist before grinding down onto you. “missed you all fuckin’ day.”
suguru’s lips disconnect from your neck, and his eyes are glazed over with unashamed lust as he lets your leg drop from his waist before getting down onto his knees.
“suguru .. are you okay?” you ask, lifting your hands to his hair. suguru closes hos eyes for a split second, allowing himself to just feel how good your fingers feel in his hair. he opens his eyes after a second before beginning to unbutton your pants.
“need you. just fuckin’ … i need to have you.” he grunts, roughly pulling your pants down your legs. suguru’s eyes sparkle as he leans in to place a kiss onto your thigh, and then the other. the gestures have your thighs warming up quickly.
“turn around and put your hands on the door.” he instructs, standing up to his full height. you quickly turn, placing your hands on the wooden door as you feel suguru’s warm hands at your hips. his fingers play with the hem of your black panties, teasing you slowly as he pulls the fabric down at a gentle pace.
“you’re a fuckin’ dream .. you know that? everything i ever fuckin’ asked for,” he speaks, and your breath hitches in your throat when suguru slaps his cock against your ass cheek. everything is happening so fast all at the same time .. it has you lost.
“s-suguru.. you’re acting so different today,” you breathe out, heart hammering in your chest as he lines himself up your cunt. suguru swipes the head against your wet walls, slicking his cock up before sliding the tip right into your cunt.
“ohh—fuck.” he groans, arm holding your hips as he thrusts his hips up to fill you up just the right way. and you’re loving it, eyes almost closing in pleasure as your mouth hangs open in a silent moan. he stretched you out so well, cock dragging through your tight walls so slowly and teasingly that it has you almost going insane.
suguru begins to fuck you, hard. his balls slap up against your ass with each harsh thrust, grunting and letting out desperate sounds as he relishes in the feeling of your tight pussy wrapped around him so beautifully.
you mewl out, hands barely on the door anymore as your boyfriend delivers hard, quick thrust to the soft meat of your cunt. the pleasure is hot, and rocks your body violently so good that it has your eyes rolling back now, pussy squirting immediately from the stimulation.
you think that’s enough. you think that suguru’s had his fill after you cum .. that’s what he wanted right?
but he’s not.
instead his hips keep thrusting, fucking the girth of his cock in and out of your walls quickly. you’re standing on your tip toes now, ass slapping against the abdomen of your boyfriend is loud echoes.
“su-suguru! i can’t!” you whimper when his hand travels down to your clit, rubbing the sensitive bud to get you there faster.
“one more .. give me one more..” he more so speaks to himself as he continues to fuck into you at an animalistic pace, eyes hard and determined as they focus on the way your back arches when he hits your cervix with one hard thrust.
“get ready to cum alright pretty? when i say so.” his words are firm and leave no room for any argument whatsoever. your eyes brim with tears as you weakly nod, pussy feeling sore at this point.
could you even cum again?
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feyascorner · 2 months
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Hear me out! Hear me out!
From Astrion's pov
A Tav who hates physical contact.
But then one night when it's pouring rain Tav comes to Astarion's tent feeling scared and ask if they can stay and then one thing leads to another and suddenly the two of them are cuddled together and Astarion is like "I thought you didn't like being touched" and Tav is like "Normally I'm scared people will hurt me when they touch me. But you are different. I feel safe with you. I trust you."
a/n. I’m going to collapse they’re everything to me AHHH THIS IS SUCH A CUTE PROMPT
Astarion, by nature and by the two-hundred years he’s spent as a vampire spawn, is a touchy person. It’s instinctual. A habit he can no longer break. It’s not even sexual, half the time. It’s simply how he conveys the words that he struggles to say, even if his vocabulary is filled to the brim with flowery verses of love straight from a romance novel.
But he understands the aversion for touch. Because he’s spent so much of his life hating the touch of strangers against his skin, he understands when you recoil when one of your companions attempt to hug you, or someone tries to shake your hand. Even if yours doesn’t stem from the similar situations where he had to set out on a victim under Cazador’s orders, he understands what it’s like to simply dislike it.
He doesn’t touch you, even if his hand itches to brush the stray strands of hair out of your face. Even as he has to yank his arm away when he feels it nearing yours as you walk alongside one another. Even as all he wants to do is drag you to the nearest corner and beg that you just hold his hand.
So when you appear at the flap of his tent, barely shielding yourself from the thunderous weather outside, asking if you can stay, his jaw physically unhinges.
He coughs, gathering himself quickly—or as quickly as he can manage.
“Come here, darling. You’ll freeze away with that mortal body of yours.”
He doesn’t even know how it happens. Well, he does, but he doesn’t really believe it’s happening. Only fifteen minutes later, you’re snuggled in under his blankets, pressed tightly against his side. He stares up at the ceiling on his back with wide eyes, slowly turning to look at you.
“Is this…alright?” He asks, and you peek out from one eye, adjusting your head on his arm. He can smell your shampoo from so close—lavender? No, maybe another blasted flower he doesn’t know the name of…
“What is?”
“This,” he waves his free arm between the two of you. “Don’t get me wrong, darling, you know I’m never against a cuddle, but I thought you—well—“
You stare at him expectantly.
“I thought you disliked physical contact,” he says, softer. “Not just with me, obviously. In general you seem rather opposed to the idea.”
The thunder rings from outside and your brows crease deeper. The light from a lightning strike illuminates your faces briefly before it’s a dim darkness again, with nothing but your own eyes able to adjust just enough to make out one another’s features. He’s sure he sees more than you do, considering his familiarity with the dark, and uses it to notice the way your lips purse at the intrusive sounds coming from outside.
He also notices you leaning closer to him, but hesitant. Your movements are unsure.
If he had a heart, it would’ve been pounding now, surely.
So he curls his arm closer, pushing you into his chest in the process. You tense briefly, but melt into the feeling, and he lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Are you afraid?”
Your voice is but a whisper. “Not anymore.”
There’s a comfortable silence hanging in the air for what seems like hours, but he might consider them to be just a few minutes. The rain pounds relentlessly against the tent, but here, even through the thin fabric, he doesn’t even notice it anymore.
“You’re different from everyone else,” you mumble, and he looks down at his chest to see your eyes halfway shut, clearly about to doze off. “I know you won’t hurt me…there’s no reason for me to avoid touching you.”
He blinks, and you bury half your face into the fabric of his shirt.
“I want you to touch me.”
For the first time in decades, Astarion finds himself at a loss for words. He’s said worse things, sure, but coming from you?…
After filing through a dozen possible responses, he settled on one, opening his mouth to respond, but your breath is already heavier. You’ve already left to a dream world he cannot follow you into, and you’ve left him in a state that he would’ve considered humiliating with anyone else.
He stares at the ceiling again, listening to the soft rhythm of your breathing.
“You can’t just say that and then fall asleep you fool…”
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evie-sturns · 2 months
Text
ᴀʟᴏɴᴇ - ᴍᴀᴛᴛ ꜱᴛᴜʀɴɪᴏʟᴏ
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summary: you're staying at your best friend's house, the sturniolos, for the weekend, until one night you can't sleep, so you decide to go for a dip in the hot tub.. but matt's already there.
contains: smut, virgin!matt, teasing, hot tub sex, semi-public?
----------------------∘°∘♡∘°∘∘ ∘°∘♡∘°∘--------------------
i roll over in bed, the clock on the wall reads, 11:57pm. i've been lying here for 3 hours with my eyes shut, but im too energised, i mean, the sturniolos and i have had a crazy few days, resulting in me staying the weekend.
i hoist myself up out of bed, flicking on the lamp as i dig through my tote bag for a small bikini, afterall its almost midnight, none of them would be in the hot tub at this time.
i open my bedroom door, tiptoeing past chris, nick and matts room down the stairs.
i creak open the backdoor, stepping out into the icy air which hits my barely covered body. i turn the corner to the hottub,
matt's sitting inside, his head tilted back, his eyes shut.
hes shirtless, wearing nothing but swim shorts. he doesnt notice me yet, but im just kind of.. admiring him?
the way he looks tonight is just different, ive known him for a few years but ive never felt like this towards him.
"matt?" i ask softly, being careful not startle him.
his eyes open slowly, looking up at me.
his cheeks instantly flush red, he opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out. "can i come.. in?" i ask, my eyebrows furrowing as matt just looks me up and down.
he quickly runs a hand through his hair before nodding "yeah yeah!" he says frantically.
i climb in next to him, matt just looks straight ahead. "are you alright?" i ask, adjusting the strap to my bikini top.
-
we've been talking and laughing for about 15 minutes, matt's still been nervous.
"and my friend, lana, she went for a job interview and came out of it with the job all because she blowed the manager off" i laugh, my straps accidentally slipping down again teasingly.
matt looks down at his lap before shifting uncomfortably, he clears his throat. my eyes dart down, its hard to see through the water, but matts got an obvious tent in his shorts.
"im sorry.." matt mumbles out in a whisper.
"why do ya think thats happened?" i ask casually, my hand dipping underwater and grazing his thigh.
matt stays silent, he looks horrified with himself.
"im so sorry just give me five minutes in the bathroom i can come right back-" matt rambles but i cut him off but straddling his lap.
matts breath hitches in his throat "oh-"
"do you think you got hard from.. me?" i say seductively, looking down at him.
"i'm sorry." matt says, his eyes fixated on my chest.
"was it from.. these straps?" i say, pulling down the straps on my bikini.
matt nods nervously,
"you can take them off if you want, i mean we are alone." i whisper.
matt reaches his hand out from the hot water, pulling off my bikini top, his tongue slides out of his mouth to dampen his lips as his cheeks go a dark red.
"why are you so scared matt, its not like youve never seen tits before" i joke, but matt tenses under me.
"matt..?" i say, dragging out the 'a'.
"uh.. i'm a virgin so.." matt says, his voice barely audible.
my eyebrows raise, a silence fills the night air.
"i know, we don't have to do anything.. i dont want to make you.. teach me?" matt rambles again, i cup his cheeks and pull him into a gentle kiss, shutting him up.
"you ramble when you're nervous.." i say, toying with the strings of his shorts, i get off his lap and sit next to him. the water is still and clear, illuminated by a blue led light.
i tug at the waistband of his shorts, revealing a small section of his base.
"oh fuck." matt quietly whimpers out.
“i’ll take it gently okay?” i assure him before pulling down his swim shorts,
i never knew matt was this big.
my cheeks flush as i climb back onto his lap, sitting just on his thighs as his dick rests on my stomach. i put my hands on matt’s damp shoulders before hovering just above his tip.
“please..” matt says, his voice hoarse
“please what?” i tease, pulling off my small bikini bottoms and discarding them somewhere in the water.
matt grips my waist, his hands firm against my skin. “please ride me..” matt says, clearly embarrassed.
i slowly sink down onto him, the warm water sloshing around us. matt’s grip on my waist tightens as he lets out pathetic noises.
“you- you okay?” i ask, burying my head on his shoulder as i slowly start to bounce up and down.
“i’m-..” matt struggles to speak, i let out a soft laugh.
“you don’t have to answer now sweetheart.” i whisper into his hair, picking up the pace.
it’s only been a few minutes, but i can tell matt’s close, his fingers are digging into me so harshly i know i’ll have bruises tomorrow.
his groans fill the night air, along with small splashes coming from the water. i clench around him, “i’m so close..” i warn, the knot in my stomach snaps as i orgasm around him, i feel matt tense so i quickly pull off of him, stroking him as he paints my hands with white.
“oh my god.. fuck” matt says, squeezing his eyes shut, he reaches out a hand and grabs my shoulder for support.
i run my thumb over his already sensitive tip, earning a gentle moan from matt. i pull up his swim shorts slowly.
“shit..” matt says, his eyes peeling open slowly.
“you okay?” i ask again, tying up my bikini.
“i’m-.. really good?” matt says, rubbing his eyes.
-
after a few minutes of talking and joking around, i stand up, climbing out of the hot tub onto the cold deck.
“same time tomorrow?” i smile jokingly back at matt.
----------------------∘°∘♡∘°∘∘ ∘°∘♡∘°∘--------------------
was a full task to bring myself to finish this 😭😭 hope y’all like it though
I also genuinely can’t tell if it chris or matt in the first picture by the title, but you get the point
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bby-deerling · 3 months
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cream (ace x reader nsfw)
ace helps you warm up :^) inspired by the prince song
18+, nsfw, mdni, wc: 1.8k masterlist
cw: afab!fem!reader, cowgirl, temperature play kinda, ace is a lil tease, semi-public-ish sex, creampie, spit as lube
tagging: @discodreaming @eelnoise
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The unforgiving chill of the desert night was seeping into your bones, leaving you shaking and clenching your teeth so hard you couldn’t bear the pain any longer.  Nami had greedily yanked away your blanket in her sleep, and you didn’t want to bother or wake Vivi, leaving you no choice but to wander outside of your tent and see if the campfire was enough to warm your nearly numb body—if it was even still lit.
Peeking out of your tent, you see the flames are smaller than before, but still capable of giving you some heat and comfort.  Gingerly, you step towards the fire, keeping your steps light to avoid waking any of the boys up, who had fallen asleep in a pile on top of each other; before you reach your destination, a husky voice cuts through the air and makes you jump.
“Can’t sleep?”  Ace asks you, sitting on the ground leaning against the tent; as you turn to face him, you admire his tired and playful smirk, soaking in as much of him as you can without making your fascination with him too glaringly obvious.
You shake your head, returning his grin with a sleepy smile of your own.  “Too cold, ‘m trying to warm up.” you explain, motioning towards the slowly dying fire.  He nods, and eyes you up and down for a moment before opening his robe, exposing his deliciously sculpted chest and abs, and motioning for you to come closer.
“Are you serious?” you whisper, flustered and blushing at his invitation.  His smirk turns into a wolfish grin, and he nods.  The remnants of the fire’s warm orange light dance across his face, illuminating the wild and free-spirited nature radiating from his presence.
“C’mere, I’ll keep you warm.” he insists, gently tugging your wrist.  Yielding to his touch, you allow him to pull you down and into his arms; closing his robe around you, your back is flush against his chest.  A blush creeps into your cheeks as the abnormal heat of his skin leaves burning tingles through your fingers and toes, his embrace allowing you to finally relax your spine.
“That feel alright for you?” he asks softly, carefully warming his body with his devil fruit to make sure you were comfortable enough—he wanted you heated up and snug in his arms, but not sweating too much yet.
“Mhmmm…feels good.” you whisper contently, allowing yourself to nuzzle closer into his touch; the cozy, enticing feeling of drowning in Ace’s warmth makes any possible reservations about the embrace dissipate into the chilly desert wind.
“You like it hot, don’t ya’?” he teases, lips dangerously close to the shell of your ear.  Tresses of long, slick, black hair ghost over the sides of your neck, tickling the sensitive skin and sending your mind abuzz at the sensation of being so close to him.  “My kind of girl.”
His words leave you a flustered, blushing mess, unable to form a coherent response besides a content giggle—the way his charms are leaving you smitten is cute, and he makes sure you know it.
“It’s a shame I can’t stick around longer, I’d like to get to know ya’ better, you’re a real sweetheart.” he says, words hushed and rumbling through your ears, bringing a bright flush to your cheeks.  “My little brother is lucky to have you around to look after him and keep him out of trouble.”  His neck cranes around the side of your head and slightly chapped lips gently press against your temple, roughened and weathered from the harsh desert sun.
“Don’t let me fool you, we get into a bunch of trouble together too—we’re too silly for our own good.” you say softly, trying to control the way your body is reacting to his intimate gestures; you’re failing, breathing turning shaky as you feel the nearly phantom touch of his lips ghosting along the apple of your cheek.  Hesitant to read too deeply into a bit of cheeky flirting, you tell yourself that he’s just being sweet—nothing more; however, the way his head is nestled into the crook of your neck, gentle smile radiating into your skin, overwhelms your senses and makes your heart flutter.
“I like that about ya’ too.  You’re a fun little ball of sunshine.” he murmurs, pressing soft kisses into your collarbone as he squeezes you tighter.  Nuzzling into his touch, he chuckles quietly as his warm, heated fingers start to roam, tracing lines up and down your arms first, before moving to grip your waist.  “Plus, you’re filthy cute—but you know that, don’t you?” he whispers, teasingly; the husky timbre of his voice leaves you craving more.  His tattooed arm loops around your waist, while the other dips downward along your lower torso; his motions are slow but intentional as he squeezes a handful of your plush thigh and drags his fingers upward, grinning at the way you sigh in frustration when he pulls his hand away.
“Better move this to my tent before I can’t help myself and give it to you out here.” he whispers, hooking an arm around your legs, lifting you effortlessly, and pulling you into his small tent nearby, slightly further away from the others.  Two harsh pulls of a zipper cut through the crisp air—the first is the closure of the tent that wraps the two of you in a blanket of privacy; the second is him fiddling with the fly of his pants as he hastily tries to get them off with one hand.  The other is threaded through your hair, dying to feel as much of you as he could at once.  Tongues twirling together and breathy moans reverberating against each other’s mouths, you’re both starving—for touch, for intimacy, and for the heated, tantalizing way your lips slide against each other.
A lewd smack echoes on the canvas walls of the tent as your lips reluctantly pull apart, a string of saliva keeping you tethered together.  “Get on top for me, baby.” he murmurs, shimmying out of his long cargo shorts that were already halfway off and sitting down beside you.  Eyes glimmering with lust, you pounce at the opportunity and shed your own layers of clothing; Ace watches you, mesmerized, and spits in his hand as he strokes himself to your naked form. 
His free hand reaches out to gently grip your waist and pulls you towards him.  Breath hitching as you straddle him and drag the head of his cock along your folds, he resists the urge to succumb to his impatience and push himself into you all at once—imagining the sharp cry you’d let out as he fills you up makes his cock twitch against you.  Instead, he holds out as you sink onto him, pupils blown out as he watches your walls envelop him; you’re gorgeous as you take him in, back arching, head thrown back and eyes closed as you try to control your breathing as you adjust to his length.
Palms hot as they grip your hips, he grinds your hips against his, guiding you towards finding the right way to drag your clit against him as you ride.  Smoothly settling into a rhythm, you find the right set of movements that makes your head dizzy and leaves you breathless; Ace’s hands start to roam upward, splaying across your breasts and drowning you in tantalizing warmth as his thumbs softly circle your nipples.
“Right there…” he says, voice husky and dripping with lust as he watches you dip into a state of hazy pleasure and delirium, “Get yourself off for me.”  Sloppy, wet sounds intensify with each rock of your hips, swiftly building towards your climax.  Tingles and pins and needles spread through your body as you get close, flush rushing towards your cheeks as your hips snap desperately against him.  Face buried in his neck, you whimper and gasp, choking back more the intense and incriminating sounds that are clawing at your throat.  Locks of his hair find themselves sticking to the side of your face—slightly greasy, damp with sweat, and scented with ash and soot, you can’t help but inhale sharply to take more of him into your lungs.
“Ace, ‘m so close…” you sigh, heat pooling in your cheeks as your words trail off into a strangled gasp.  One of his hands trails down your side and rocks your hips closer into him, giving you the friction you need to make the tightly wound coil snap; mind buzzing and blank, your walls clamp around him as a chorus of lewd sounds fall off your lips.  Ace gives you no mercy, continuing to grind your hips against his through your orgasm, intent on stretching it out as long as possible.
“That’s right baby, cream all over my cock…” he whispers in your ear before biting down on your neck and sucking softly, earning him a moan from you in response. 
Relentless as he gives it to you, his grip on you is firm as he takes control, grasping your hips and bouncing you along his cock.  Still limp and twitching from your high, you’re like a ragdoll in his hands as he fills you up with a punishing pace, unable to do anything but whine and beg for him to give you even more.
“Such a good girl, you take me so well…” he growls, his previous smirks and grins replaced with unwavering and intense focus as he drags your soaked pussy along his length.  Tight and warmer than he could ever dream of, he hopes you’re feeling just a fraction of the flames coursing through his veins as he pounds you so hard that you start grabbing and scratching at his back, babbling nonsense into his collarbone.
And perhaps you feel it even more; your whole body is on fire as his thrusts grow even faster still, and you feel his thighs tense.  As he spills into you, his cum is hot, creamy, and leaves you sighing with pleasure as you feel it mix with the sticky pool of arousal that had completely coated both of your thighs.  Panting and out of breath, he stares at you, eyes half-lidded as he catches his breath; as he regains his senses and his beating heart begins to slow, he pulls you in for a deep kiss as he pulls out of you.
“That warm you up enough?” he asks cheekily as he reaches for a towel out of his bag to clean you up with.
“Might still need to be held a bit, ‘m not ready to brave the cold alone just yet.” you reply with a hopeful grin as you watch him slip into his sleeping bag and pull a blanket on top.
“Good—‘m not ready to let you go yet either.” he says with a smirk, pulling you close against him underneath the covers.
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rileyslibrary · 8 months
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Exhausted and in the middle of a week-long field exercise, you seek comfort and visit Ghost in the command tent.
———————————————————————
You step into the command tent, letting the entrance flap fall quietly behind you. The only light illuminating the place is a small hanging lamp above the worktable, filled with maps and scattered paperwork.
Your eyes gradually adjust to the dim interior, and your focus settles on the back of the figure before you. Ghost leans over the table, absorbed in a discussion over the comms about the field exercise’s next steps.
His leg is crossed in front of the other, and he glances over his broad shoulder as he senses your presence. He raises his fist, silently signalling for you to wait until he’s finished.
However, you’re not one to obey such commands from him; he knows that all too well.
You drag your weary feet across the ground, and the sound of rocks and dust echoes softly in the confined space. The lieutenant motions with his palm for you to move quietly as he continues the conversation with his comrades. This time, you decide to comply.
You walk cautiously and approach the workstation, closing the distance between you. Although behind him, you can see him better now; his head is lowered over the map spread across the table. He listens to the soldiers on the other end of the line, briefing him on safety protocols, emergency procedures, and potential hazards for tomorrow. He nods and murmurs the occasional “mhm” in response.
You place your thumbs into his pants’ belt loops and gently pull yourself closer to him. He doesn’t budge. You exhale through pieced lips, releasing the tension that had been building up, and nestle your face between his shoulder blades. You take a long and deep inhale, breathing him in. That’s the only scent you want to fill your lungs with right now—not the bitter odour of gunpowder nor the dry breeze of the fields—just him.
A stray wind ruffles the tent’s fabric from the outside, and he stiffens up. His head turns towards the source of the disturbance, and his hand retreats from the table to rest on your back as if protecting you from the outside.
“It’s alright,” you whisper into his back, “just the wind.”
He relaxes, shifting his attention back to the comms. His hand migrates from your back to your forearm, gently urging it out of his belt loops. He lifts it to his lips, kissing your hand beneath the balaclava he wears. He sets it against his stomach and holds it there. You follow his lead, repeating the gesture with your other hand and wrapping yourself around him, intertwining your fingers.
He delivers the final instructions over the comms and signs off. He straightens up.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he murmurs, yet still holding your wrapped hands around him.
“You shouldn’t have let me in,” You reply.
You feel his right hand moving, grabbing a pen and writing something on the map. “It’s not as if you ever ask for permission,” he remarks.
You take another deep breath into his back, followed by an audible sigh.
“What’s wrong?” He asks.
“Nothing,” you reply. “Just tired.”
He puts the pen down, lifts his right arm, and you slide beneath it. He hugs your shoulder, and you rest your head on his chest. You both look at the worktable in front of you.
“What’s all this?” you ask.
He shrugs and kisses the top of your head. “You know what they are.” He replies, his voice muffled by your hair.
“I don’t wanna do tomorrow.” You frown as you gesture at the map. “It looks... chaotic.”
His hand shifts from your shoulder to rest on your waist, gently guiding you until you stand between him and the table. You look up into his sleep-deprived, bloodshot eyes. He, too, is tired.
“Nobody does,” he replies, “but we have to, yeah?”
You nod and brush your fingers against his chest. He plants one final kiss on your forehead, then taps your hip twice with his hand.
“Off you go,” he commands. “tomorrow will be a long day.”
You pout and grumble, but he doesn’t back down. You have no choice but to yield to his authority. You walk towards the exit and lift the tent’s flap.
“Can I stay with you tonight?” You venture.
He shakes his head. “Too many eyes, love,” he says, looking over his shoulder. “Wait until we’re back at the base.”
You sigh softly. “I miss you.” You confess.
He turns his entire body towards you as he leans against the work table. The hanging lamp reveals his eyes; there’s a smile hidden within them.
He nods. It’s his way of saying ‘Me too,’ and that’s all you need. He may not voice affection openly, but he doesn’t have to. You understand each other in ways words could never express.
He extends his hand towards you, palm facing down. He makes a small, subtle wave with his wrist, insinuating that you’re standing in the middle of the entrance with the flap open, making yourself an easy target to spot for whoever passes by.
You snap back to reality, excuse yourself, and exit his tent. You make your way towards your own, longing for the moment you’ll finally be reunited at the base.
———————————————————————
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lxndonorris · 11 days
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sleeping naked - Max Verstappen
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Y/N x Max Verstappen Theme: Smutish, light touching as a professional naked sleeper, Max convinced you to try it out as well x word count: 1100+ taglist: @game-set-canet requested by anon :) if you have any request, let me feel free to talk to me. gif by me.
The quiet hum of the night envelopes the room as you and your boyfriend Max head to your bedroom to settle into bed after a long day together. The soft glow of the bedside lamp casts a warm ambiance, illuminating the contours of Max's handsome face as he stands beside you.
With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Max suggests something that catches you off guard.
"Hey, how about we try sleeping completely naked tonight?"
You blink in surprise, feeling a flush of warmth creeping up your cheeks.
The idea is both exhilarating and nerve-wracking—a bold departure from your usual routine. Well, for Max, it isn't that unusual; he does it every now and then. Still, there is something tempting about the prospect of shedding all inhibitions and embracing the intimacy of bare skin against bare skin.
"Are you sure?" You ask, your voice tings with uncertainty.
Max flashes you a reassuring smile; his confidence infectious. "Trust me, it will be liberating. Plus, it's something new and exciting to try together."
With a tentative nod, you agree, your heart racing with anticipation.
As you strip away the layers of clothing, you can't help but feel a sense of vulnerability wash over you, exposed and raw in the dim light of your bedroom.
But as Max wraps his arms around you, pulling you close to his naked form, all doubts melt away. There is a primal intimacy to that embrace, a connection forged through the simple act of being ourselves to each other.
As you gaze upon Max's naked form, bathed in the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the curtain, you can't help but feel a surge of admiration. Taking a step back, you let your eyes wander all over him.
Normally, you are accustomed to seeing him dressed in plain shirts or the vibrant Red Bull racing gear, his athletic physique hinted at beneath the fabric. But now, with nothing but his bare skin on display, he exudes a newfound sense of confidence and freedom.
There is a raw allure to him—a magnetic pull that draws you in with an intensity you can't ignore. His muscles ripple beneath the moon-kissed skin, every contour and curve a testament to his strength and dedication. And yet, there is a vulnerability to him as well, a raw honesty that leaves you breathless.
Gone is the facade of the racing driver, replaced by the unfiltered essence of the man you love. In this moment, he is more than just Max; he is a revelation, a glimpse into the depths of his soul laid bare for you to behold.
As he catches your gaze, a knowing smile tugs at the corner of his lips, and you feel your heart skip a beat.
"You're beautiful." His rough voice sounds a little deeper, huskier, carrying the love he feels for you.
Your entire body flushes with color, and your skin rapidly heats up. "Thank you." You breathe deeply.
With a newfound sense of courage, you reach out to trace the lines of his body with trembling fingers, marveling at the warmth of his skin beneath your touch.
He is a masterpiece, a work of art sculpted by time and experience, and you feel privileged to witness him in all his naked glory.
Then, Max's eyes roam over your body again, tracing the curves with a reverence that takes your breath away.
His gaze is like a caress, tender and adoring, as if he is committing every inch of you to memory. There is no judgment in his eyes, only a deep appreciation for the woman standing before him.
"Absolutely stunning," he whispers, his voice husky with emotion.
His words send a thrill coursing through you, igniting a fire of desire that burns hot and fierce. You step closer to him again, closing the distance between you until your bodies are just inches apart.
Resting your hand on his chest, you feel the warmth of Max's skin beneath it. His skin is smooth beneath your touch, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat is a comforting melody against your palm.
With a contented sigh, Max let out a low growl of happiness, his eyes meeting yours with a playful sparkle. The sound sends a shiver of excitement down your back.
As you climb into bed, pulling the sheets up to cover your lower halves, you relish the sensation of your torsos being exposed to each other. There is an undeniable intimacy in the simplicity of your intertwined bodies.
Max leans in to press a lingering kiss to your forehead, his touch tender and affectionate. "Thank you for trying this out with me," he murmurs, his voice filled with gratitude.
"It's actually pretty good." A coy smile plays on your lips. "I could get used to this." You smile, tracing lazy circles on his chest.
"Me too." His gaze softens, and he leans in again to press a tender kiss on your lips.
The sensation of Max's fingertips gliding over your skin sends shivers down your spine, each touch a delicate caress. You embrace the way he moves with such care and mindfulness, as if every stroke is a silent delcaration of his love.
Unable to resist, you reach out to cup his cheek, your thumb tracing the rugged outline of his jawline, reveling in the texture of his stubble against your skin. It sends a tingling sensation through you, but it is a sensation you welcome, a reminder of the raw masculinity that defines him.
Then, Max's fingers graze the skin of your shoulders, and he pauses, his touch lingering over a spot on your arm.
What's this?" He asks, his voice tinging with curiosity.
You glance down, following his gaze to the tattoo adorning your skin—a small emblem commemorating his third championship win. A surge of pride swells within you as you recall the exhilaration of that moment, the joy etched into Max's face as he stood victorious on the podium.
"It's for you," you explain, a shy smile playing on your lips. "To celebrate your incredible achievements." You got it just a few days ago, when he was racing in Saudi Arabia. 
Max's eyes sparkle with delight, and he pulls you closer, pressing a fervent kiss to the tattoo.
"You're amazing, you know that?" He murmurs, his voice thick with emotion.
You melt into his embrace, savoring the warmth of his affection. You cocoon yourselves beneath the sheets, your bodies entwined as you lay face-to-face, lost in the intimacy of the moment.
His lips find yours once more, a gentle caress that speaks volumes of his love.
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mizar113 · 1 year
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ginnsbaker · 6 months
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mastermind
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Summary: As your sticks fly across the drums, your eyes momentarily scan the crowd, taking in the faces, the movements, the ecstatic energy. And then, in the flickering club lights, you spot her // …or the one where you find Wanda in the crowd during your band's gig, only to discover there's much more to her than you initially thought.
Word count: 5.2K+ | Tags: Smut (18+), Fluff, Oral and fingering (W receiving), Squirting, Overstimulation, Meet-cute, Drummer!Reader, Wanda Maximoff x Reader
Requested by anon. I got carried a way for a bit and took a few liberties. Hope you like it!
-
You almost didn’t make it for tonight’s gig. 
Still recovering from the flu you caught last week, you were close to letting Kate fill in on the drums. That is, until Yelena begged you not to let her girlfriend botch a sold-out evening.
The tension backstage is thicker than Bucky’s pre-show smoothie, and, given the mishmash of green ingredients, that's saying something.
“I'm just saying, letting Kate drum tonight is like giving a cat a keyboard and expecting Bonham,” Yelena says, gesturing wildly with her hands.
“Continue talking and you might not have a girlfriend by the end of your next sentence!” Kate huffs, spinning on her heel to stomp out of the area. 
You sip on your water, trying to keep your hydration levels up but also stifle a chuckle. This isn’t the first time Yelena’s protective streak has clashed with Kate's overenthusiastic approach to... well, everything. Natasha is trying, and failing, to keep a straight face, while Bucky seems to have found sudden interest in the intricate patterns on his boots. 
Your head is throbbing, the remnants of the flu still gnawing at your energy, but you've mustered up just enough strength to make it through tonight's set. Before Yelena or any other band member can comment further, the organizer gestures for your band to take the stage.
You take a deep breath, followed by another swig of water. It's almost showtime, and the excitement is seeping through the nerves, reminding you why you endure the endless rehearsals, sleepless nights, and yes, even the pre-show squabbles.
As you step onto the stage, the applause is deafening. The lights illuminate the sea of faces before you, and you can see the familiar glint of excitement in the eyes of returning fans mixed with the curious expressions of first-timers.
Bucky approaches the mic, flashing his signature charming smile at the crowd. “Good evening, everyone! We’re ecstatic to see so many familiar faces and new ones too! We've got a great set for you tonight, but before we start, let's give a big shoutout to Y/N here, who's powering through the flu to be with us tonight!” The crowd roars in appreciation, and you can't help but wave sheepishly, a tentative smile stretching across your face.
Natasha strums the opening chords of the first song, her fingers dancing effortlessly over the strings. Yelena, momentarily forgetting her earlier spat with Kate, loses herself in the rhythm, the bassline syncing perfectly with your drumbeat. The music flows, each note hitting the right spots, the synergy between band members mesmerizing the audience.
As your sticks fly across the drums, your eyes momentarily scan the crowd, taking in the faces, the movements, the ecstatic energy.
And then, in the flickering club lights, you spot her.
There's a brunette, her hair cascading down, dancing like she was born for this exact moment. The way she sways and lets loose to the rhythm—it's captivating.
But it's when she turns around that your heart nearly leaps out of your chest. Her eyes meet yours, and the world seems to slow down for a moment. Those intense, deep-set eyes pull you in, making it impossible to look away. They're filled with an emotion that's hard to pinpoint: intrigue, curiosity, maybe even a hint of challenge. The message is clear—she's noticed you, just as much as you've noticed her. 
She doesn't break the gaze, and as her hips move in tune with your beats, there's a silent communication happening. Your hands, despite the rising temperature of the room, feel cold against the drumsticks. It's a battle to maintain your rhythm and not lose yourself under her spell.
Natasha, catching the look on your face, leans in during a brief instrumental break. “You good?”
“Yeah,” you reply, attempting to refocus. Your distraction had almost caused you to miss a beat or two. 
Your eyes are locked onto the brunette once more as she starts grinding against her friend, her movements confident, sultry, and unapologetically magnetic. It's the sort of dancing that would have any person within the perimeter drooling on the spot. Usually, you'd shy away from openly watching someone move so suggestively, but you find yourself completely mesmerized.
As the next song kicks off, you throw in some extra flash on the drums, just to see if she'll play along. And sure enough, with every fancy beat you drop, she dances right to it. It's like you're both in this unspoken challenge, seeing who can outdo the other. Your fingers grip the drumsticks tighter, and you can feel the heat rising on your face.
That's when Natasha glances in the same direction and catches on. “Well, well, looks like someone's got a fan,” she murmurs with a wink, her voice barely audible over the booming speakers.
You roll your eyes, trying to play it cool, but the dryness in your mouth betrays your nonchalance. “Just playing my part,” you quip, though you're keenly aware that your concentration tonight is split between the drums and the mesmerizing dancer.
Yelena, following the exchange between you and Natasha, leans in from the bass guitar, raising an eyebrow. “Who's got you all hot and bothered?”
“Shut up, Yel,” you retort. With cheeks aflame, you try to shove Yelena’s teasing aside, to focus solely on the music coursing through your veins. However, the allure of the brunette is a magnet you can’t seem to resist.
As the beat picks up, so does the pace of your heart, hammering against your chest with every enthralling movement she makes. She is intoxicating, and you’re utterly spellbound.
During the bridge, you hit a sour note—a misstep that rarely happens—and Bucky gives you a dirty look from across the stage. He’s a perfectionist when it comes to the music, and you mouth a silent “sorry” before forcing your eyes away from the captivating sight in the crowd.
But not before catching her reaction.
She's laughing, her eyes alight with impishness, and you'd swear she's looking right at you. There's a knowing smile on her lips that suggests she knows exactly the effect she’s had on you. It’s both mortifying and exhilarating.
You try to keep to the side, hiding behind cymbals and drums, but it's impossible to shake the sensation of being observed. It's like she's got a spotlight aimed right at you, and you're center stage. Every moment you resist looking her way feels like an eternity, but every time you feel the pull to glance in her direction, Yelena’s earlier tease flares in your mind, keeping your eyes stubbornly on Bucky’s flashy shoes.
As the last song fades and the applause rolls in, you set down your drumsticks, nerves and excitement warring within you. You don't hang around for Bucky's wrap-up speech. Instead, you hustle to get backstage.
-
To everyone's shock, you decide to stick around after the gig. You're usually the most introverted one in the group and never do this.
Natasha sidles up to you, a teasing smirk on her lips. “So, about that girl you couldn't take your eyes off of...?”
You attempt to play it cool, but your nervous fidgeting with your drumsticks gives you away. “What girl?” you ask, feigning ignorance.
Bucky snorts in amusement, a wicked grin stretching across his face. “The one you were practically eye-fucking the entire set? Thought you were gonna jump off stage and grab her right there.”
You're now the shade of a ripe tomato, desperately searching for a diversion. “You guys are seeing things,” you mumble, avoiding their amused gazes.
“Honestly, I was half-expecting her to throw a bra onstage or something, the way you were gawking,” Yelena chirps in.
“Enough,” you protest weakly, your voice drowned out by the laughter of your bandmates.
Just as you're about to slip away to the bar for a breather, a waiter approaches you with a drink in hand. “Compliments of the lady over there,” he says, nodding towards a dim corner of the club.
You peer in the direction he's indicating but can't make out who it's from. The drink looks fancy, possibly alcoholic. Glancing at the waiter, you inform him, “I can't drink alcohol right now, but thank you.”
Natasha snatches it from the tray. “Well, if you're not taking it, it's mine.”
Bucky laughs. “Is everyone in this club trying to woo our drummer tonight?”
You roll your eyes at them, trying not to dwell on the mystery woman. However, it's not long before the same waiter returns, this time holding a simple glass of lemonade. “The lady noticed you weren’t drinking the cocktails and thought you might prefer this.”
Your curiosity almost gets the better of you, but the memories of the striking brunette dancing to your beats earlier still linger fresh in your mind. You opt not to scour the club's corners to spot who's sending the drinks. Instead, you lift the lemonade in a thankful gesture, aiming it in the general direction of where the waiter had pointed, and offer a polite, appreciative smile into the dim.
Natasha teases, “Playing hard to get, huh?”
You shrug and take a sip from your drink. “Just soaking in the night and the rewards of our hard work,” you remark, patting the pocket where you tucked away the cash from tonight's gig. “Isn't that what we're here for?”
-
An hour later, the club's neon and strobe lights continue to play tricks on your eyes, turning every brunette head you spot into a potential sighting. Each time, however, it’s not her.
Bucky's animated conversation about a new track he's been working on fades into the background. Natasha keeps throwing you knowing glances, but doesn't press. It's Yelena who finally comments, probably having had enough of your desolate puppy-dog look. She nudges you with her elbow, Kate giggling drunkenly by her side. Yelena's arm is protectively around Kate, but her sharp gaze is all on you.
“You know, you won't find her by just sulking here and gazing at every brunette that walks past. You gotta move,” she challenges, her tone equal parts bored and encouraging.
Kate, in her slightly inebriated state, adds with a giggle, “Yeah, go get her, tiger!”
“It's not that easy, you know,” you sigh, brooding over your drink. “Plus, what if she's not even interested?”
Yelena's smirk is almost predatory. “From what I saw? Trust me, she's interested. Now go.”
With a resigned sigh, you push yourself up from the booth. Steeling yourself, you start weaving your way through the crowd, using your slightly sober advantage to maneuver past intoxicated dancers. You scan every corner and table as you walk past, even though there's a nagging feeling in your gut that she might have already left the club.
It’s after what feels like an eternity that you spot a familiar cascade of brunette locks by the bar. She’s engaged in what appears to be an animated conversation with a tall, equally striking man. However, her posture—shoulders slightly hunched, eyes darting around—suggests that she’s far from comfortable.
The protective instinct kicks in before you can talk yourself out of it. Closing the distance, you position yourself between her and the persistent guy, offering her a way out. “Hey there,” you say, smoothly, your voice loud enough to be heard over the clamor. “I've been looking for you. Sorry I'm late.”
She catches on immediately, her relief evident as she steps closer to you, away from the guy. “There you are! I was starting to worry,” she plays along, giving you a swift kiss on the cheeks that has your eyes widening for a second and breaking character. Thankfully, the guy doesn’t notice your blunder, and sensing he's lost this battle, scowls and retreats into the crowd.
Turning to her, you can't help the grin that finds its way to your face. “Sorry for that, I wanted to help, but I didn’t also want to cause any trouble.”
She smiles back, her eyes gleaming in the club lights. “Thank you for the save. I was about to resort to more drastic measures.”
The banter between you flows naturally, the awkward ice broken by the unusual circumstance of your first interaction. “I'm Y/N,” you offer, extending a hand.
“Wanda,” she says, taking your hand. Her grip is firm and her hand warm against yours. It sends a jolt of electricity up your arm. Only now do you notice her eyes, the shade of green in them, and the way they reveal so much yet nothing at all. Just like that, you fall a little deeper into her trap.
“Wanda,” you repeat, tasting the name on your tongue as if trying it out. Your smile broadens instinctively, and she catches it, her nose scrunching up bashfully.
“What?” she asks.
“Oh, nothing,” you chuckle nervously, rubbing the back of your neck. “I just think it's a beautiful name. Fits someone as beautiful as you.”
She blushes, and you can't help but inwardly high five yourself for making her smile like that. She looks away for a moment, trying to hide her smile but fails miserably, and you find it endearing.
“Thank you, Y/N,” she says, her eyes meeting yours once more, a shy smile on her lips.
The night unfolds seamlessly from there. You find a quiet corner away from the crowd, where the music is a distant thump, allowing conversation to flow freely.
“So, when did you start drumming?” Wanda asks, leaning in a bit, genuinely seeming interested in your answer. You try your best to stay calm as you feel the heat radiate from her body.
“Believe it or not, I started a bit late, around twelve,” you reply, smiling at the memory of your younger self, awkwardly trying to grasp the drumsticks. “But I played the guitar first, picked it up when I was just five.”
Her eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Wow, so you're a multi-instrumentalist?”
You shrug, trying to appear nonchalant, but can't help the proud grin that creeps onto your face. “Something like that. But I mainly stick to drums in the band.”
She tilts her head, her eyes shining with interest. “Why don't you play the guitar for the band then?”
“Natasha's better than me on the guitar. She's got this incredible flair and finesse. I mean, I'm good, but she's... amazing.”
Wanda nods, absorbing the information, “I've heard her play, she really is. But I'm sure you're just as great.”
You laugh, “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Then, taking a sip of your drink, you add, “Playing the guitar actually helps a lot when I'm writing our songs.”
“Wait, you write the songs?”
“Most of them,” you confirm, trying to sound as modest as you can be. “It's a collaborative effort, of course. But yeah, having a knowledge of multiple instruments, especially the guitar, helps lay the foundation for many of our tracks.”
Wanda looks at you, clearly impressed. “That's incredible, Y/N. No wonder your music feels so... personal. It's like you're telling a story with every song.”
“You’ve listened to our songs before?” you ask, mildly surprised.
Wanda nods sheepishly, as if caught harboring a guilty secret. “I might have, a few times... I definitely came here tonight to see you guys perform.” 
She then places a hand on your knee, and all at once, your throat feels parched. She scoots closer to you, to speak directly into your ear. “I wish I could see you play the guitar for me.”
You swallow hard. Her suggestion has certainly crossed your mind several times throughout the conversation. “Actually,” you begin, trying to steady your voice, “we keep our instruments in the back of the van. If you're interested, I could... play something for you?”
Wanda pulls back slightly to meet your eyes, looking like she wasn’t expecting you to actually agree to give her a private performance. “Really? Now?”
You nod, then stand and extend your hand to her, grinning. “Ready for a show?”
-
This isn’t exactly the kind of show you had in mind when you led Wanda to the back of the van. But you’re just twenty seconds into the new song you’ve been working on when she grabs your face with both hands and draws you in for a ferocious kiss. It’s a kiss that you haven’t tasted in a while—completely unrestrained.
You're lucky the drum set hasn't been loaded up yet, and with Bucky's keyboard being used by the current band onstage, there's just the right amount of space. Taking advantage, you push Wanda onto her back without breaking away from the kiss.
You pull away just enough to ask, “Are you sure?” while Wanda starts to slide your jacket down your arms.
Wanda nods impatiently, tracing her tongue along the underside of your chin, clearly enjoying the reaction she provokes.
“Was that a yes?” you prod, sitting up. Wanda sighs, albeit a bit irritably, only because you're suddenly out of her reach, before she collects herself enough to answer, “Yes, Y/N, I'm sure.”
“It's just that... I usually don’t do this,” you confess, looking down in embarrassment.
Your heart is pounding so loudly you're sure Wanda can hear it, especially with the way she's studying you intently. You can feel the heat creep up your neck, coloring your cheeks a deep shade of pink. This isn't typically your scene, and you wonder if she's regretting her decision.
But then, with a move that’s smooth and tender, Wanda slides her fingers under your chin, lifting your head to meet her gaze. Her eyes aren't filled with judgment or mockery, but with genuine understanding and something else you can't quite place.
“I find it... sexy,” she murmurs. “It’s refreshing, actually. Everything about you feels genuine. It's rare to find someone not playing games.”
Your eyes widen a fraction. That wasn't the reaction you'd been expecting.
She smirks a little at your expression, that hint of mischief returning. “Did you think admitting you're a little inexperienced would scare me off? If anything, it makes this even more exciting.”
“I'm not exactly 'inexperienced',” you argue with a bashful smile.
Her voice drops to a whisper, making your breath catch, and she inches just a bit closer. “I'm sure about this, Y/N. The back of a van might not be a romantic scene from a movie, but…” she breathes, and then she makes sure you feel every word she’s going to say next being spoken in your ear. “But right now? I swear, I might just go crazy if you don't touch me.”
Her statement stokes the fire between your legs and acting on the pull you feel, you lean in, hesitating just for a fraction of a second before capturing her lips with yours. Wanda lets out a soft, sultry moan as you deepen the kiss, your tongue boldly seeking entrance. She grants it, and you're immediately intoxicated, not just by the taste of the vodka she's been sipping on, but by Wanda herself. The way she feels, the way she responds—it's all consuming.
She tilts her head, granting you better access, and you take the opportunity to explore every inch of her mouth. The gentle tang of the alcohol is present but overshadowed by her own unique flavor, which is even more intoxicating. You can feel her hands resting on your shoulders, fingers gripping you with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine.
Wanda's breath hitches sharply as you confidently take charge. You yank her shirt off in one quick move, and she's laid bare under the soft street lights. Outside, some party is still in full swing, but in here, it's all about the uninhibited hunger between the two of you.
You slip your fingers to the back of her bra, fumbling just a moment before unhooking it, revealing her. Not wasting any time, you dive in, taking her nipple in your mouth, savoring it. The sensation drives her wild, and she arches her back, pushing herself deeper against you with a throaty moan.
Her fingers grip your hair, guiding and sometimes just pulling when she needs more. Every sound she makes, every pull of her fingers, gets you more revved up. It's intense, it's messy, but it's all too real.
As your hands venture lower, you notice her pupils dilate and her breathing grow uneven.
“You still sure?” you whisper, releasing her nipple with a wet pop. She responds with a desperate whine, pressing her hips closer to yours.
“Use your words, baby girl,” you murmur, nipping at her pulse point.
“Yes, yes, yes…” she answers breathlessly. “Please, Y/N.”
Your fingers playfully glide over her entrance, teasing her, “So wet for me,” you marvel, pressing a firm kiss to her neck. Your fingers dip inside her just slightly, pulling back out to further tease her.
“It's too bad I don't have my strap with me,” you groan, grinding against her thigh, letting her feel how turned on you are. “You'd look so pretty, taking it all.”
Her breathing hitches, “God, I wish you had it too.”
Wanda’s whines intensify, a sweet sound of pure desperation, as you suddenly remove your fingers from her. “Why did you—” she starts to complain, but you silence her with a searing kiss.
“I want to see all of you,” you murmur against her lips. Her skirt is the next target, and you fumble with the zipper, eager to remove the barrier between your hands and her skin. However, as you're about to pull down her underwear, a thought strikes you. Looking around the back of the van, you remember how it's been used for hauling equipment, and the floor isn't exactly pristine.
Thinking quickly, you grab your jacket and lay it out beneath her, ensuring she's on a cleaner surface. “Always got to take care of my girl,” you wink at her, trying to lighten the moment.
“Your girl?” Wanda echoes, her eyes half-lidded, a playful smile curling on her lips.
You realize your slip-up a beat too late, but then, her underwear and skirt are swiftly discarded, and she lies there, beautifully exposed to your hungry gaze.
“You're breathtaking,” you whisper in awe.
She flushes under your gaze. “I could say the same for you,” she murmurs, pulling you closer.
Your eyes roam her body, the soft curves and inviting skin, particularly where she's most sensitive. But you've always been one for asking. 
“Can I taste you?” The question leaves your lips, whispered against the skin of her inner thigh, making her shiver.
She responds with a needy, “Yes, please,” and bites her bottom lip, arching her hips slightly, as if laying herself bare for your indulgence.
You don't waste any more time. Shuffling down, you position yourself between her legs, the aromatic scent of her arousal filling your senses. Carefully, you part her folds with your fingers, your tongue darting out to collect the first taste. The first touch of your tongue against her wetness draws a sharp inhale from her, followed by a moan that has your ears burning from how shameless it sounds.
Your tongue swirls around her swollen nub, establishing a pattern that has her thighs clenching around your head. “Fucky, right there,” she groans, her hips thrusting up, eager to meet each glide and flick of your tongue. The wet sounds of your mouth paired with her whimpers urge you to sneak a hand beneath your jeans, seeking relief for your own building tension.
Her hands tighten in your hair, pulling you closer, almost as if she's trying to mold you to her. “More, right there... Oh, god!” she cries out, providing the exact guidance you need.
Amused by her reactions, you intentionally draw out a slurping sound as your tongue dives deeper, making Wanda retreat, but you abandon your own need for release to grab her ass and pull her back to your mouth. 
“Y/N, please, please, I’m—”
“You like that, don't you?” you tease, voice husky with lust. “You sound so pretty when you beg.”
She keens, a desperate sound, her fingers tightening their grip on your hair. You're relentless, enjoying every second of her unraveling, and she's close—so close.
“Are you going to come for me, Wanda?” you growl, lost in the intoxicating taste of her, pressing your tongue deeper, seeking out every intimate spot that makes her body jolt and writhe above you. Her voice breaks into a high-pitched cry, “Y/N! I'm—I'm—” and you feel her climax, her entire body shaking with the force of it, her wetness dripping from your chin down to your throat, drenching you in the process. 
Wanda's gasps fill the space as she shudders, the aftershocks of her orgasm leaving her body trembling. A wicked grin spreads across your face as you take in the sight of her, completely spent and vulnerable. She squirms beneath your mouth, trying to escape the onslaught of sensations. “Too much,” she pants, her voice hoarse.
Ignoring her plea, you continue your ministrations, lips and tongue working in tandem, driving her to the brink once more. As you feel her tensing up, preparing to escape your relentless assault, you slip two fingers inside her, feeling the tight clench of her around you. The unexpected intrusion steals her breath and the fight from her limbs, her resistance melting under your touch.
“You want more, don't you?” you murmur before your lips find her clit again. 
The van is starting to smell like sex. You know you'll have to do something about this later, but for now, you can't bring yourself to care as you take in every detail of the naked girl before you. The pleasure is almost overwhelming for Wanda, teetering on the edge of pain, but she feels another climax building deep inside her.
“Y/N!” she cries, her grip on your hair tightening, her back arching. “I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum!”
You don't stop, doubling your efforts, fingers and tongue working in sync, driving her up and beyond any point she's ever known. Suddenly, there's a gush, wetter and warmer than before, surprising you both. You pull back slightly, and she looks down, mortified. Her face turns a deep shade of red, and she tries to squirm out from beneath you.
“I'm so sorry... I—” Wanda stammers, scrambling to hide her face in her hands.
You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, a smirk forming on your lips. “Wanda, that was... incredibly hot.”
She looks away, still trying to process what just happened. “I didn’t... I've never...”
Sitting up, you gently cup her face, making her look at you. “Hey, it’s alright,” you say softly, trying to reassure her. “Don't be embarrassed. I'm honored that you felt comfortable enough with me to let go completely.”
She gives a shaky laugh, her fingers lightly tracing circles on your chest. “I can't believe you made me do that on the first try.”
“And I’m extremely lucky to be able to,” you say with a chuckle, gently brushing a stray strand of hair away from her face.
She blushes for a moment, then says, “I noticed you didn’t... you know. Do you want me to...?”
“Next time,” you promise, pressing a tender kiss on her forehead. “Right now, I need to make sure this van doesn’t end up as evidence of our... activities.” You wink, earning a soft giggle from her.
“Besides, I have to admit, I thoroughly enjoyed watching you fall apart because of me,” you add, mischievously wetting your lips.
She blushes, playfully swatting at your arm. “You're impossible.”
-
You were the first to step out of the van, offering Wanda a moment of privacy to get dressed. When she finally emerges, she leans on you for support. “I can't feel my legs,” she jokes, struggling a bit. She hands you your jacket which you'd forgotten, helping you slip it on. Immediately, the scent of her hits you, reminding you that she had climaxed twice on that very fabric.
Before you can dwell on the thought, a man approaches Wanda. It’s the same guy from earlier, the one she was arguing with at the bar. You instinctively square your shoulders, ready to step in between them, protectively, but Wanda halts you with a hand on your chest.
“Pietro!” Wanda exclaims, letting out an exasperated sigh as she utters her brother's name. You halt, puzzled.
She knows this guy?
Pietro looks at Wanda, then at you, his eyes narrowing for a moment. “You ready to go, Wanda?” he asks, clearly impatient.
She turns to you, giving you a soft, apologetic smile. “Y/N, this is my brother, Pietro.”
You swallow dryly, offering a somewhat clammy hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Pietro just eyes your hand, perhaps connecting the dots from earlier. Feeling like an idiot, you quickly pull your hand back, subtly rubbing it against your pants. He departs without another word, muttering to Wanda, “I'll be in the car. Don't keep me waiting too long.”
Wanda watches Pietro go, her smile fading a bit. Turning back to you, she takes a deep breath. “Okay, so, about earlier,” she starts, biting her lower lip nervously. “I might have, um... staged that whole fight thing to get your attention. He wasn’t too thrilled about the idea, but he played along.” Her eyes dart to the ground, avoiding your gaze.
You blink, processing her confession. Before you can come up with any coherent response, she giggles at the dumbfounded expression on your face. “I really have to go,” she says.
And then, before you can react, she plants a featherlight kiss on your cheek. The warmth of it lingers on your skin as she steps back, her eyes holding yours for a long, sweet moment.
“Thank you,” she whispers, her eyes glistening under the soft moonlight. “Tonight was... unexpected, but amazing.”
And with that, she turns and hurries off to where Pietro is waiting for her by a parked car. You stand there, feeling the spot on your cheek where her lips touched, watching her until she hops into the car and drives off into the night. It’s only after the car disappears around the bend that you mentally kick yourself for forgetting to ask for her number. With a sigh, you turn back to your van, resigned to cleaning up.
The chill of the night settles in, and when you slip your hands into your jacket pockets, your fingers catch a scrap of paper. It feels out of place, foreign to the usual belongings you stash in there. You pull it out, and to your surprise, it's a receipt. The drinks listed there jog a memory: an alcoholic cocktail offered to you earlier in the night which you politely declined, and the tangy lemonade that followed right after.
Realization dawns on you. Wanda had been orchestrating things all night. You flip the receipt over and your heart skips a beat. Scrawled at the back in a neat, cursive handwriting is her number, accompanied by a simple message: “Call me soon.”
Grinning like a fool, you grab a cloth and some disinfectant from the compartment. Cleaning the back of a van has never felt this satisfying.
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eiightysixbaby · 8 months
Text
my brain is just full of little smutty thoughts lately I’m not sorry
cw: unprotected piv, creampie, oral m receiving, somnophilia 18+
eddie’s soft snores are just about the only sound in the room aside from the slight rustling of the sheets as your hand inches slowly down to his cock. his curls are cascading across the pillow as he sleeps, his beautiful long lashes on display. he looks so perfect, so peaceful, that you almost feel remorse for what you’re about to do. almost.
eddie had recently brought up the idea of you… doing things to him while he was asleep. had asked you if that’s something you’d ever be interested in, if you’d want to. you’d been hesitant at first, not wanting to risk doing it at a time where he just wasn’t in the mood - you’d feel horrible, you’d feel like you were taking advantage of him. he reassured you that you had his explicit permission to use him whenever you liked, but on the off chance he just wasn’t down for it, he’d be sure to tell you.
he’d had a long day at work yesterday, coming home and barely making it through a shower before he completely collapsed into bed. you’d wanted to take care of him right then and there, wanted to make him feel good and take the stress off of his shoulders, but the way he pulled you to his body to snuggle you had told you that nothing more was necessary just yet. now, you’d woken in the middle of a restless sleep. it’s around six in the morning, and you can’t get back to sleep for the life of you. seeing eddie’s chest rise and fall beside you, eyes roaming over his bare arms and toned shoulders had you worked up. all you could think about was having his cock inside you, and so, feeling a little bold, you decided to try out eddie’s newest fantasy.
your hand wraps around his soft dick, squeezing the flesh slightly. you pump lightly a few times, smirking to yourself when he grows harder almost instantly. his size expands in your hand, fingers wrapping around the full girth of him. you bite your lip, pumping his cock in your fist again, and again. eddie remained asleep, which was no surprise because you know he’s a heavy sleeper. you feel so scandalous in this moment, so raunchy, and it only turns you on further. the thought of eddie waking to you doing sinful things to him drives you mad, and so you push it even further. your unoccupied hand reaches down to cup his balls, squeezing them between your fingers. you tug on the stretchy skin, curling your lips inwards in a smile when eddie’s breath hitches.
the soft glow from the nightlight and the trickle of a rising sun from the early dawn slipping in through the window are the only things illuminating your room, but they’re enough to light up eddie’s body in the perfect way. the contours of his frame are outlined, his face bathed in just enough light, making him look so soft and sweet. your hand continues to glide up and down his shaft, before you finally decide you need to see him. you pull the bedsheet off of him, exposing his entire body to you. your mouth falls open at the sight of his cock like you’d never seen it before, maybe you’re just surprised to see how hard he’s gotten when he’s not even awake to look at you or touch you back. you shuffle your body down so your mouth is near his crotch, tentatively sticking your tongue out and licking his balls. you let your tongue continue upwards, leaving a stripe of saliva up the shaft of his cock, watching the way it twitches when you reach the tip. you’re practically drooling at the sight before you, his head pink and leaking just for you. eddie lets out a snore, and for some reason it only spurs you on. how far can you take this until he wakes up? how excited will he be when he wakes up?
you wrap your lips around his swollen head, pressing your tongue to the slit and collecting the salty pre-cum that waits for you there. eddie almost stirs, his back arching a little bit in a subconscious stretch. you bite your lip in anticipation, letting his breathing steady again before you lap at his leaking cock once more. you take him further into your mouth, slowly slowly slowly, getting him nice and covered in your spit. he grunts a little, but remains asleep, and you can’t help but laugh to yourself. you work him with your mouth a little longer before you can’t take it anymore, the ache between your thighs growing too strong. you straddle his lap carefully, grabbing the base of his cock in a needy hand and lining him up with your entrance. you’re soaked for him, and you take every inch he has with ease as you sink down onto him. you let out a high-pitched whine as you start to rock your body against his, feeling him everywhere. this is enough to wake eddie, and the beautiful boy beneath you enters reality. eyelashes flutter open, those dangerous big brown eyes meeting yours. his lips part slightly as he registers what you’re doing, before they twist into a shit-eating grin.
“good morning to you too,” he purrs, his morning voice deep and gravelly.
all you can do is hum in response, a pleased little sound, as you bounce on his cock. his hands find your waist, squeezing the flesh there as your soaking cunt engulfs him. he lets out little groans here and there, husky moans of your name as his voice adjusts to being used. you’re whining, pleading with him even though he’s not denying you of anything. you need a release so badly, and his hips move in lazy thrusts to match the movements of yours. his cock hitting the perfect spot over and over, bringing you to your breaking point in the stillness of the early morning. your mouth hangs open as you fall apart on top of him, walls fluttering around him, repeating his name over and over like a hymn. he cums immediately after you, movements slowing to a stop as he works every last drop from himself.
he pulls out and flips you over, nose nudging yours as he presses his lips to your own.
“you’re a little minx, you know that?” he grins, peppering more kisses to your face.
“figured you could use a nice wake up call after the day you had yesterday,” you say, suddenly shy.
“it was everything I needed and more, baby. you’re unreal,” he praises, laying down beside you and wrapping you up in his arms. “think you’re gonna need to do that more often,” he says smugly.
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kentoangel · 7 days
Text
nanami kento teaches you how to play chess on an early spring morning — when the sunlight pours into your home and warms your back, illuminates your husband as he drinks his coffee and gently smiles as you tentatively move your pieces.
“ooh, am i about to win?” you say, eyes trained on his next move as your hand wraps around your mug.
he laughs, raspy and drowsy. “think so, angel.”
“yes — checkmate, kento.” you giggle, hide your smile behind your mug.
secretly, he has let you win — revels in the softness of your eyes and your lively laugh. god, he would lose to you a million times just to see you smile.
“does yuuji play, too? i’m really nervous to meet him.”
for his spring break, yuuji will be visiting you and your husband for the first time since your marriage — a boy you have only seen in the photos kento has framed in his office.
“sometimes,” your husband replies, smiles, “though he is incredibly competitive. especially when megumi is present.”
“megumi will be staying with us as well, right?”
“only for a few days — then he’ll fly to new york to visit satoru and his wife.”
you smile, reminiscing on what your husband had told you about his friend and his blind wife — an endearing, beautiful love story. you hope to meet them one day, too, and make their acquaintance.
you stand, walk to your husband with your dirty mug in hand. “i hope he’ll like me.”
your husband turns to you, wraps a strong arm around your thighs and brings you in close — kisses your tummy, looks up at you with adoration and a chunk of the sun in his eyes.
“he’ll love you. just as much as i love you.”
you laugh, run your free hand through his hair, lean down to kiss the top of his head. “and i’ll love him just as much as i love you.”
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Lessons in Love.
Bucky didn't believe in love at first sight. Then he met you.
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Pairing - Bucky Barnes x female reader
Warnings - None
Word Count - 3615
Author's Note - hello gorgeous people, hope you're all doing well. writing this has made my heart so full, and I hope it makes you feel the same. requests are always open and more than encouraged!! currently working on a stunning jake seresin request that's just so lovely. i'm SO open to more jake requests, but also any marvel, top gun maverick, criminal minds, narcos and any others you have in mind!! just send them over, and I'll see what I can do. as always, so much love x
Masterlist. Requests.
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“No way. How is that even possible?”
You look at the bewildered man in front of you and can’t help but smile.
“It’ll play anything you want it to. Anything in the world. Just ask it!” you encourage, beaming grin still plastered on your face.
“Alexa,” he says tentatively, “play Marvin Gaye.”
The first notes of Trouble Man begin to sound through your apartment, and his eyes light up. He’s looking at you like you’ve discovered something completely revolutionary.
You laugh – a real, genuine, delighted sound that flows through Bucky like a beam of light, illuminates his bones, makes his heart beat that little bit faster.
Grabbing your notebook, you delicately place a check next to Number 26 – voice-controlled devices. Number 27 is air fryers. Number 28 is Bluetooth. Number 29 is kindles and e-readers. Number 30 is Doordash. You’ve already checked off Spotify, and ATMs, and Google, and online banking, amongst many others. A list of things to better integrate Bucky into the 21st Century. A list of things to make him feel less like a man out of time. A list of things that allow you to spend all the time with him that you can.
A warm hand on your left hip and a cold one on your right pull you back into reality.
“Dance with me.” he murmurs. “Let me teach you something, for once.”
Before you can process his words, he’s gliding across the kitchen with you in his arms. Trouble Man isn’t playing anymore, instead replaced with something slower, richer. Bucky hasn’t taken his eyes off you, not even for a second. He’s watching your every move, every expression, every twitch of your lips. Reading you like a book.
You bring your hands to rest around his neck, and he relaxes into you. He’s leading, swaying you gently, occasionally twirling you like a ballerina in a music box. Perfectly effortless. He’s good at this.
The sun is setting, casting a warm orange hue across the kitchen. The light is reflecting onto your hair, making you glow, giving you a halo. Angelic, he thinks. My guardian angel.
You close the space between your bodies, wrapping your arms around his middle. Resting your head on his chest, he prays you can’t hear how his heart is working overtime. You shut your eyes, and breathe him in. He smells faintly like the Bakery, like sugar and coffee and cinnamon. The place that started it all.
             ⋆    .  ✵  ⋆    .  ✵   ⋆    .  ✵   ⋆    .  ✵ 
When Bucky first moved into his apartment, he’d noticed the Bakery down the street immediately. The smell of cake and coffee drifted out of the lilac colored door, enticing him in. He resisted the urge, and told himself that he’d go inside tomorrow.
The next day, he stood outside of the red brick building, and read the menu on the noticeboard carefully. Then he reread it. And then read it again. Since when was coffee so complicated? And don’t even get him started on cake. He swore there was only a few types back in the forties. Now, there was at least fifty different kinds on this menu alone. He was overwhelmed. He thought he’d be able to walk into this Bakery, get some coffee, maybe something sweet, and leave content. Instead, he's stood on the sidewalk on the verge of a panic attack. Tomorrow, he thinks to himself. I’ll go in tomorrow.
Tomorrow never comes. Every day, he takes a walk, and purposely passes the building that he longs to go into. But somehow, he can never find the courage. He knows he’ll just look like an idiot if he walks in. He’ll look lost, and out of place, and everyone will laugh and mutter. Look, they’ll jeer, The Winter Soldier can’t even order a coffee.
And so, he spares himself the pain. Lets his feet carry him past, only slowing down slightly when he passes the lilac door. Every day for three months, he takes the same route. Willing himself to go in, to find the courage. It’s just coffee, he tells himself. Get a grip.
Until, one day, you decided to change his life, unknowingly. Or maybe knowingly. He’s still not sure.
He takes his usual path, and just as he gets to the lilac door – you’re there. Stood, waiting, soft smile on your face. Bucky panics, and wills his feet to move faster, to take him away from this inevitably awkward situation. You stop him before he can make a run for it.
“Hi.”
Oh. You’re talking to him. You’re staring into his soul with no judgment, or fear, or trepidation. You’re staring into his soul with gentleness. Kindness. Friendship. He’s terrified.
“Uh – hi.” He rubs the back of his neck. Nervous habit.
“So, uh, I hope this isn’t weird, or anything. But, I’ve been watching you walk past every day for like three months, and, well…” you trail off. Now you look nervous. “Actually, I haven’t really thought this far ahead. I just see you, and I wanted to… invite you in, I guess? Not that you need an invite, of course not, we’re open to everyone, but… you always look like you’re going to come in, and then you never do. And I’ve been telling myself for months that I should properly invite you in, but now I’m realising this is, uh, really weird. And I’m sorry.”
You still have that gentle smile on your face, but it’s more tentative now. A dusting of pink is making its way onto your cheeks, and Bucky thinks it might be his new favourite color.
It’s now that he really starts to take you in. Your hair is blowing slightly in the breeze, and the sleeves of your sweater are pulled down over your wrists, to try and keep the New York chill at bay. You have bright, inquisitive eyes – eyes that contain hope, love, laughter. You make him feel almost peaceful. No one makes him feel like that. Damn.
You’ve stepped closer to him now, to get out of the way of the customers making their way through the door. You smell like sugar, and coffee, and optimism. He wants to breathe you in, let you settle in his lungs. A comfortable warmth spreads through his chest.
He decides to take a gamble and bear his truth to you. He’s not sure why, but he trusts you. He doesn’t trust anyone, these days. But he trusts you.
“Can I be honest with you?”, he asks, looking at you expectantly. You’re almost expecting him to laugh in your face at the absurdity of it all. You nod anyway, signalling for him to continue.
“I’ve been trying to work up the courage to come in. But every time I try, I just, uh-” he stutters, and you can tell that his mind is screaming at him, sounding alarm bells, begging him to stop with all this sudden vulnerability.
“It’s overwhelming, right?” you ask, cutting him off. Saving him. Guardian angel.
You see the relief in his body at your question. His fists unclench, the tension leaves his shoulders. He smiles bashfully. Half grateful, half embarrassed. You get it.
“Yeah,” he chuckles. You giggle, and he’s convinced that the melodious sound will circle around in his mind forever, like the Earth orbiting the Sun.
You fiddle with the strings of your mint green apron, and look at him. You’re gazing at him so earnestly that he’s worried he might spontaneously combust.
“Are you busy tonight?” you ask suddenly, and he feels so dizzy he’s concerned momentarily that he’s going to pass out.
“Uh, no. I’m not,” he replies, managing to force the words out of his mouth.
“We close at 6, so meet me here at 7.”
You still have that sparkle in your eye. He couldn’t say no to you if he tried.
“Why?” he queries. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t absolutely petrified at the turn the conversation has taken.
“I want to show you around. Maybe make you a coffee, introduce you to some of my favourite things. You won’t believe how good my raspberry and white chocolate cookies are. They’re best sellers for a reason,” you beam at him.
Beaming. He wonders how he’s lived his whole life without your light illuminating his universe. Anywhere he goes without you is going to feel so dark, he thinks. How did I ever live like this?
He manages to pull himself together to smile back at you. His first genuine grin in God knows how long. He’s forgotten what joy feels like, and he’s almost drunk on it now.
He agrees to your plan, and you turn on your heel, about to make your way back inside.
“Wait!” he yells, louder than intended. “What’s your name?”
Your lips turn up into a smirk, mischief seeping out of your pores.
“Come back at 7 and find out.” You wink at him, and he has to take a few deep breaths in order to stay conscious. With that, you leave him alone on the sidewalk, where he’s silently thanking the universe for dropping you in his lap. Finally, he thinks. The cosmic punishment is over.
He does come back at 7. In fact, he’s stood outside waiting at 6:45. He can see you mopping the floor, singing as you go. His supersoldier hearing allows him to listen to your voice, even from this far away. He’s never been more grateful for the thing he used to call a curse. He’d be cursed every damn day if it meant he got to listen to you like this.
At 6:58, you appear at the lilac door, beckoning him to follow you inside. He knows that stepping over that threshold is going to change him fundamentally. He can’t wait.
Upon entering, he’s hit with the smell of cinnamon, sugar, coffee, and you. A beautiful mix of all three. Without a second thought, he reaches out with his right hand, and gently brushes some flour from your cheekbone.
“Bucky,” he murmurs.
You can’t tear your eyes away from him. Lips slightly parted, chest heaving, it takes you a minute to register that he spoke.
“What?” you ask, dazed by the handsome stranger with the steel blue eyes.
“My name,” he speaks softly. “It’s Bucky.”
You smile knowingly, and take a deep breath. It’s overwhelming, meeting someone that you know is going to be in your life forever. You’re both feeling the same, neither of you sure just quite what to do.
You grab his left hand, sighing quietly in relief at the feeling the cool metal against your heated skin. Leading him gently, he lets you guide him through the front of the store, until you stop behind the counter. He’s convinced he’d let you lead him anywhere, as long as he gets to feel your skin, soft and warm, on his. Grounding. Comforting. Easy.
“What kind of milk do you like?” you ask, fingers still intertwined with his.
“There’s more than one kind of milk?”
Bucky looks so disorientated, that you want to kiss the confused expression off his face. You chuckle softly, and the sound bounces off the metal in the room, twinkling around him.
“We have cows’ milk, oat milk, almond milk and soy milk.” You take one look at him, and decide to change course. “Let’s start with something less complex, actually. Any allergies I should know about?”
He shakes his head, mischievous grin beginning to form on his handsome face. There he is, you think. He’s with me.
“I’m going to make you a latte. It’s milky, and not too strong or too sweet. I think you’ll like it.”
She thinks I’ll like it, he muses. And he trusts you - whether it be with his life, or just a cup of coffee.
You reluctantly let go of his hand, and begin to flit around, gathering everything you need. Bucky leans back against the counter and watches carefully. He watches the way you bite your lip when you measure out the milk. He watches the way the steam from the coffee machine blows your hair back from your face gently. He watches the way you’re trying to make everything perfect. He can’t remember the last time someone paid attention to him like this. His mind is telling him to sprint in the opposite direction, to excuse himself and never come back. He’s terrified. But he stays. I deserve this, he thinks. I deserve something good.
You pull him from his thoughts by handing him the mug of warm coffee. He takes it from you carefully, and, without breaking eye contact, takes a sip. He smiles, really smiles. That’s all the validation you needed.
“Let me show you where we bake everything,” you say quietly, as if you’re afraid to burst this bubble of warmth and trust you’ve created. You’re scared he’s going to bolt if you give him the chance. So, you don’t. You take his hand once more, and guide him through to the kitchen.
“Have you done much baking in your life, Bucky?”
No, he thinks. But I will. I’ll bake everyday for the rest of my life if it means you’ll love me. If you’ll make me coffee and smile at me like that.
Instead, he answers cautiously.
“Not really. I’d like to, though.” He adds that last part bashfully. You smile back at him earnestly.
“Well then you’re in the right place,” you wink. He has the overwhelming urge to drop to his knees. To pray at your altar. To worship you like an angel sent down just for him. He’s surprised he’s still stood on two feet.
Before he can even register what’s happening, you’re beginning to create a mixture for your infamous cookies. You direct him to stir, while you add meticulously measured ingredients into the bowl.
“Put those arms to good use,” you’d smirked, and a blush had risen up to his cheeks almost instantly.
You click the radio on, and a soft, jazzy melody begins to drift through the room. You’re humming quietly, gliding around the kitchen, and he decides that this is it for him. You’re it for him. He could watch you do this every day and die a happy man.
Cookies baking in the oven, you jump up to sit on one of the counters. Bucky moves to stand in between your legs, still being careful to keep his distance ever so slightly. He knows if he touches you, he won’t ever want to let go.
“This wasn’t as scary as I thought it was going to be,” he confesses.
“What, me?” you tease.
“No. Coffee. And cookies,” he chuckles.
“Are there lots of things that you haven’t done because you find them scary?” you ask genuinely. You want to know him. All of him. Fears, wants, quirks. All of it.
“Yeah, actually. The world is so different now. I don’t really know where to start. It’s all terrifying, honestly,” he laughs. You laugh with him, but you know there’s truth to his words. You want to wrap your arms around him. He may be 6 foot tall and made of solid muscle and vibranium, but you want to protect him.
“Why don’t we do it together?”
A pause. He’s confused again.
“Do what together?”
“All of it. The learning. I’ll help you. Everything is less scary if you do it with someone else.”
It’s now that he’s convinced he’s dreaming. You can’t be real. Why would you be here, offering him everything, after all that he’s done? He has to remind himself. I deserve this. I deserve something good.
You can sense his trepidation, so you keep talking.
“Why don’t we make a list? You write down the things you want to learn about. I’ll write down other things I think you should know. You’ll be an expert on the 21st Century before long, Buck.”
Buck. The nickname sounds like a gift coming from your lips.
“Okay. Yeah. Are you sure you don’t mind?”
The anxiety is coming off him in waves. He’s panicking. You grab a hold of both of his hands, and place one on each of your legs, just above your knees. He steps in closer, and takes a breath. You’re warm, and you’re soft, and you’re love personified. He’s okay.
“Of course I don’t mind. I’m excited!” you assure him. Then, quieter, “It means I get to spend more time with you.”
He aims a beaming, megawatt smile in your direction. He feels as if his nerve endings are alight. You’ve awoken something in him. He’d forgotten what it was like to feel like this. To feel alive.
You reach over and grab your notebook. In it, you simply write his name, followed by a love heart. Then, underneath, you begin to list everything you can think of that you want to teach him. You hand the list to him, and he adds his own requests. Between you, you manage to write 50 different lessons.
“Perfect. We’ll start with number one, and work our way down. Are you busy tomorrow evening?”
He chuckles at your eagerness, but secretly, he can’t wait. He knows he’ll be counting down the hours until he can see you again.
“Nope, I’m not. You are my only priority, sweetheart.”
The term of endearment seeps into your skin, settles in your ribcage. You’re convinced it’ll warm you up from the inside out. If he keeps calling you sweetheart in that Brooklyn drawl of his, you’ll never be cold again.
             ⋆    .  ✵  ⋆    .  ✵   ⋆    .  ✵   ⋆    .  ✵ 
You’re not sure if you’ve been swaying in your kitchen with Bucky to Marvin Gaye for 2 minutes or 2 hours. You’re comfortably settled into him, as if the space in his arms was made especially for you. Maybe it was.
Bucky’s voice breaks through the solitude.
“You know, I’ve created my own list,” he murmurs against the top of your hair, where he’s resting his head.
You pull back, still in his arms, to look at him carefully.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. Read it, and tell me what you think.”
He untangles himself from you and crosses the room, to retrieve his leather-bound notebook. He returns, and places it carefully in your awaiting hands.
You flick open the cover to reveal the first page. You recognise his handwriting instantly. It’s spiralling, and imperfect, but so Bucky. At the top of the page, you spot the title – your name, with a love heart next to it. Exactly the same as you’d done for him when you’d originally created your list together.
Underneath your name, only one thing is written.
I love you.
You look up at him, to see him watching you, holding his breath. Neither of you know what to say. You know what you want to say. You want to tell him that you hope the list never ends, so you always have an excuse to spend time with him. You want to tell him that you watched him walk past the door of the Bakery every day for 3 months because you thought he was the most beautiful person you’d ever seen. You want to tell him that every time he looks at you, you feel as if you’re going to pass out. You want to tell him that you can recognise him anywhere, by touch or smell alone. Instead, you say,
“You do?”
That genuine, million dollar smile is back, etched on his face. He’s glowing, light radiating from his bones.
“Yes. I do. I think I’ve loved you ever since I saw you waiting for me on the doorstep of the Bakery that day.”
You think you might be floating. Levitating above ground, fuelled by love. You laugh.
“That’s the exact moment I fell in love with you.”
He laughs with you, then. You could get drunk off the sound.
“I didn’t think love at first sight was a real thing. I thought I was going crazy,” he confesses.
He’s convinced that the two of you have discovered something, invented it even. Because he doesn’t understand. If love feels like this, so all encompassing, so consuming – how does anyone live? Every moment of every day, Bucky thinks of you. How does anyone go to work? How does anyone ever feel sad, or angry, when love like this exists?
You drop the notebook and cross the room to him. He closes the gap, and throws his arms around you, spinning you in circles, laughing with joy. He sets you back on your feet, and tilts your chin up, so you’re looking into his steel blue eyes. You could drown in the ocean of his irises if he let you.
He leans down, and presses his lips to yours. He’s giving you all of the love, the joy, the laughter – everything good that he has ever felt, because of you – through his kiss. Your knees go weak, and he holds you up by your waist, his strong arms encircling your frame. He tastes like coffee, and sugar, and promises. You’ll never want to taste anything else.
Eventually, you break away for air. You gaze up at him, and he sees sunshine in your eyes. He’s not sure what he did to earn a love like this. You seem to sense his doubts creeping in, because you say, in the most assured voice he’s ever heard –
“No one has ever loved anyone as much as I love you.”
I deserve this, he thinks. I deserve something good.
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