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#because you can't remember what you did if you never did it
itsswritten · 1 day
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butterfly kisses
Pairing: Azriel x fem reader
Word Count: 1.7K (honestly it's just a little drabble)
Warnings: 18+, implied smut, lots of fluff, mating frenzy
Summary: Azriel just can't get enough of your wings <3
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If you want to read more from this universe - wings
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Azriel wasn’t sure how he’d gotten so lucky.
He had thanked the Mother every day since the bond snapped, and even more when you accepted it. When Mor had introduced you into his life only a couple of years ago, he never imagined this would be the outcome.
Azriel vividly remembered the first night he met you. It was another gathering at Rita’s, one of the many that had unfolded, now peace settled over the land. 
Mor with playful determination had pulled you over to their table, arm looped around yours– almost in a way that said she wasn’t going to let you escape. He had noticed the faint blush that creeped up your face to your pointed ears, merely from the proximity of your High Lord and Lady, and their inner circle. He recalled how you offered a shy little curtsy in their presence, that had led to the whole table stifling their laughter. Rhys kindly explained that such formalities were not necessary, especially not in Rita’s of all places. Azriel did his best to contain his mirth at the display, all the while chewing the inside of his cheek to stop the chuckle leaving his lips. He truly couldn’t get over how adorable you were, he'd found himself captivated by your endearing innocence. 
And that was only the start.
Mor explained how she’d met you in town one day and had essentially thrusted her friendship onto you, and it really didn’t take long for Azriel and his family to do the same. 
You were so sweet and caring, and slotted into Azriel’s life so easily that he found it hard to remember a time when you weren’t there at all. Your kindness towards the Archeron sisters, guiding them through the intricate transitions of fae life that they still at times struggled with. Nyx was absolutely enamoured with you, oftentimes seeking your company over his actual family. But they didn’t blame him, because they all did same. Your calm sweet nature was addictive to them all, especially Azriel.
Driven by an insatiable curiosity, Azriel found himself seeking every opportunity to unravel all your layers. He wanted to know everything about you. From your favourite foods, to the books that captured your attention.
His infatuation all made sense when the bond snapped. 
It was the last solstice.
Azriel had noticed how beautiful you were looking, as you always were. But you were clad in a breathtaking pale pink summer dress, the neckline delicately showcasing your décolletage. As you moved with a natural grace, the fabric billowed ever so slightly at the waist, accentuating your silhouette in a manner that held attention.
Or at least held Azriel’s attention. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you.
He watched you carefully navigate the chaos of the room. Nyx in one arm, giving Feyre some rest and reprieve in her pregnant state. Your other hand bringing in the cake Elain had spent all morning baking. Amidst the flurry of activity, you had been so close to dropping the cake. But Azriel's steady hand intervened just in time, grabbing the plate and taking it off you. Except in that moment your hands touched, grazed past one another in a way they had so many times before. 
But that time had been different.
It was Azriel’s turn to almost drop the cake. That all consuming warmth flooded his chest catching him off guard. A golden thread connecting itself to you. The mating bond. Finally.
And based on the bright red flush covering your cheeks, it was clear you’d felt it too. You’d fled the room then, overcome with emotion and what this new revelation meant. 
Though, it didn’t take long for Azriel to coax you round.
Ever the gentleman, he courted you. Taking you on the most thoughtful dates and spoiling you with bouquet after bouquet of flowers. He would leave little love notes and poetry for you to find. That it was really no surprise to anyone, when you decided to accept the bond.
That was only three weeks ago now.
Yourself and Azriel were deep in the mating frenzy. 
Rhys had kindly offered one of his private residences he had on the outskirts of Night. A smaller cottage, but with all the privacy you both needed. And Azriel had taken advantage of that privacy eliciting sounds from you that he would cherish forever and never tire hearing.
And then there were your wings. 
You had revealed them to him the first night after accepting the mating bond, and, Gods, was he done for.
Azriel had taken it upon himself, in the earlier months, to really vet you. His dedication to his role as Spymaster served as a guise for his self-indulgent exploration of you, delving into the intricate details of your being with a hunger that bordered on obsession. Not only had he discovered all the things you love, but he searched for details of who and what you were.
Finding himself holed up in the library at times, hours spent devoted to aquainiting himself to the type of fairy you were. 
He knew you had wings, was the type of fairy whose wings were the delicate kind. Most kept them concealed with magic. Yet, Azriel couldn't shake the thought that perhaps they were hidden not only for protection but also out of reverence for their breathtaking beauty. They were mesmerising. Enough to trap Azriel into some kind of trance. 
And perhaps possessively so, he was grateful not many males were privy to this part of you.
He was watching you now, laying on your front. Bare. Just how he’d left you when he took a moment to freshen up. You were giggling, your legs up and feet fluttering behind you while propped up over something.
“What are you doing, my love?” Azriel purred inquisitively, stepping closer towards the bed.
“Oh…Feyre was just checking in. Asking how much longer we might be,” he could hear you smile when you spoke, and watched as with the brush of your hand the magical parchment and ink disappeared that you’d been conversing with Feyre on.
“It’s not even been that long,”
“We’ve been gone three weeks–”
“And we’ll be gone 300 hundred more,”
You chuckled at his response, “Az, we do need to go back at some point. They need us.”
“I need you more.” There was no negotiating. Your family would be lucky to see you both before the next solstice at this rate.
Not that Azriel needed the frenzy to be satiated by you, but it truly was driving him. The primal need for you, overwhelming. The pair of you only stopped when you both fell into a slumber from exhaustion. And even then, there were many times you found each other in a sleep exhausted haze, tangled within and inside one another again.
The bed dipped either side of your legs, you were still on your front but could feel your mate over you. He had paused though, his eyes falling over your beautiful pink wings. The iridescent skin reflecting lights across the room. He had almost cried when he first saw them after you accepted the bond, mesmerised and overwhelmed by their beauty.
Getting to see this part of you, a part of you that was so private, stirred a gratefulness inside him. But there was something else too, a possessiveness that had slowly been creeping up his mind recently.
In the past three weeks, you had both done every possible maneuver, tried every kind of love making– fucking, screwing, mating. You’d even made him a crumbling wet mess just from playing with his wings. 
But he hadn’t touched yours.
No, they looked so delicate and soft, too beautiful to touch, that he hadn’t dared. 
You felt him situate himself behind you, his warm naked body lightly laying on you, his chest resting on your behind. His arms wormed their way under your hips to get comfy, and you splayed your wings flat against your back to fit him.
“Az?” you asked curiously, glancing slightly over at your shoulder to catch him in your peripheral.
He didn’t respond though, not with words. You felt his soft warm breath blowing on the membrane of your right wing, making your squirm under the touch. Your wing fluttering a little in the air.
“How sensitive are they? Too sensitive for me to touch?” You heard him behind you.
“Hm..” you tilted your head slightly to think, “They’re delicate, but you can touch them. Gently.”
You were waiting for him to wriggle his hand from out beneath you but instead you felt something warm and wet run against the bottom of your wing.
You couldn’t stop the whimper from escaping your lips at the soft touch. Azriel had taken it upon himself to use the tip of his tongue to explore this part of you, a part of you that was still very new to him. He felt you wriggle under him, and he shifted placing his full body weight on you so you couldn’t move.
His tongue traced the ridge of your wing, and he wasn’t letting up. Not when he’d made that sound from you. He wanted more of that. He moved and pressed his tongue flat against the delicate skin, evoking another moan from you.
“Does that feel good my little butterfly?” he purred, you could feel the smirk on his lips against your wing as he pressed a kiss on them.
You wanted to roll your eyes at his teasing, but it felt too good to do anything other than surrender to his touch.
“I want to hear your words,” he spoke a little more assertively this time, before swiping  his tongue along one of the tubular lines that spread like veins across your wings.
“Yes..” You huffed, before another moan slipped past your lips breathlessly. “It feels good Az…” You felt your body heat, your cheeks for sure rosy, grateful your mate could only hear not see the reaction he was having on you. 
He chuckled softly then, the vibrations from his lips skirting across your wings making them twitch.
“My sensitive little butterfly, ” the new nickname only made you squirm more, your core growing slick at his predatory attention.
Azriel moved his hand then, the one caught under your left hip, so effortlessly moving down to your core, cupping your wet slit as he licked the pink shiny membrane again. 
“Azriel…” you gasped, but his touch didn’t relent.
You knew this was only the start.
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a/n: just some lovely little fluffy mating frenzyness! I just love these two, so I may expand a little more on the wings universe and their relationship if you guys would like to see that! Maybe some domestic bliss, or if there's any scenes you'd like me to write for them or parts of their story you're interested in then I'm happy to explore. Also this was written fairly quickly, so please ignore any typos, I only did a quick little check hehe - Lottie
p.s. also thanks to @thisiskaylin who inspired the nickname! She commented on the wings fic that butterfly would be the perfect nickname and I just had to use it <3
Forever tags: @sleepylunarwolf @daily-dose-of-sass @milswrites @amberlynn98 @marscardigan @illyrianbitch @lilah-asteria
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mysteryshoptls · 1 day
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SSR Ruggie Bucchi - Platinum Jacket Vignette
"Happy 100th Anniversary"
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[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]
Ruggie: Can't believe I'm here bein' a supporter for some museum like this. Guess ya never know what life's got in store for ya.
Ruggie: I mean, I totally wouldn't've ever paid to see paintings that I can't even fill my belly with…
Ruggie: But I guess it's okay if I don't gotta pay. I wonder if they got paintings I've seen in my textbooks.
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???: This painting… These are the hyenas from the King of Beast's legends. When the three of them are lined up like this it's kind of intimidating…
Ruggie: Well, yeah, they were out there patrollin' lava quarries 'n goin' out on scoutin' missions, so.
Trey: You sure know your stuff, Ruggie. I guess that would make sense for a hyena beastman to know.
Trey: But still… Both patrolling and scouting seems like painstaking work.
Ruggie: Oh, yeah. From the stories I've heard, they had some pretty tight scrapes…
Ruggie: Like there's one where while they were out chasin' some stubborn foe, they ended up runnin' off a cliff tryin' to catch 'em…
Ruggie: Which had 'em endin' up flyin' into some real prickly thickets.
Trey: If it were me, I'd probably hesitate, worried about getting hurt. Guess the hyenas who worked under the King of Beasts were just that brave.
Ruggie: Brave? Then I guess I'll take that compliment, too. 'Cause I've jumped into thorny thickets like that a buncha times!
Trey: You've jumped into the thorny thickets…? A bunch of times!? Why would you do that…?
Ruggie: Actually, did you know? In the Sunset Savanna, there's this real steep cliff that's become a bit of a tourist attraction.
Ruggie: It's the perfect place to catch the settin' sun, so a ton of tourists go up there to snap a pic, leanin' over the fences 'n everything.
Ruggie: And like, sometimes there's folk that'll get so focused on settin' up the shot, or that'll bump into others that they'll drop and lose stuff.
Trey: I'd expect they'd have to let their stuff go if they dropped it off the cliff… But how does this all tie into you talking about the thorny thickets??
Ruggie: Sheeheehee. So actually, at the bottom of that cliff, there's a huge bramble of thorny thickets.
Ruggie: It's off-limits, and it's pretty dangerous, so no one really heads down there.
Ruggie: So, that's why I'd sneak down in the dead of night, and pick up all the lost items!
Ruggie: Sometimes I'd find little wrapped pieces of candy, watches 'n accessories, and even wallets!
Ruggie: Well, it kinda depended week to week what dropped, but… That was a great way to make some quick cash.
Trey: B-But if you had gotten injured, would all that have been worth it?
Ruggie: Yeah, true. Back when I was just a kid, I could slip in 'n out pretty easily, but I had to stop when I started getting' bigger.
Ruggie: Not only was I makin' big bucks, but the cliff's environment was getting' kept clean. Felt like a win-win deal to me.
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[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]
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Ruggie: Oh, this one… It's a painting of the thunder god and his son.
Trey: Yeah, according to the legends, he came to the human world just after being born, and was raised by adoptive parents.
Ruggie: Basically, that means he was raised apart from his actual dad, right? Amazin' they actually look like they get along good.
Trey: Haha… I wonder. Do you get along with your dad, Ruggie?
Ruggie: Nah, I don't got one.
Ruggie: He left back when I was a kid, so I don't remember anythin' about him, 'n I don't know what he's up to now.
Trey: Oh… Is that so? Sorry, I didn't mean to overstep my bounds.
Ruggie: Huh, that reaction's pretty different than what I'm used to.
Ruggie: Back home, there's a ton of kids just like me, so usually they'd just shrug and go, "Oh, okay" and move on.
Trey: And I guess it doesn't sound like they're saying that just to be considerate.
Ruggie: Obviously. Because the bigger problem is not havin' the money to buy food!
Ruggie: Granny'd take care of me, but there wasn't much we could do 'bout our empty bellies…
Ruggie: When I was big enough, I'd start working together with all the kids in my little neighborhood to scrounge up some food.
Trey: Kids running around trying to gather food on their own… That's hard for me to imagine.
Ruggie: There's a buncha ways to gather up food. We'd go into town and ask for alms, or drop a line in the river.
Ruggie: We were always pretty hungry, so we'd pretty much do anything… Oh, like we had a great time once digging for potatoes.
Trey: Is digging up potatoes that exciting?
Ruggie: WELL, YEAH!
Ruggie: There's actually a type of potato that grows in my country that can get as large as 20 kilos…
Ruggie: Around the time the potato harvestin' was finishin' up, we all snuck into the fields at night…
Ruggie: And we'd pick up some stunted potatoes that were left behind, as well as dug up some other forgotten potatoes.
Ruggie: We were all up in arms to pick every single one before the sun rose!
Trey: Why'd you go at mid… Never mind, I'm not going to ask.
Ruggie: And then, this one year when I was diggin', I hit the jackpot!
Ruggie: It was a potato so huge I wouldn't've even been able to carry it with both arms! It had't've been heavier than 20 kilos~
Ruggie: Didn't think there'd be any potatoes left that huge… Maan, I really lucked out then.
Trey: 20 kilograms, huh… With something that big, I don't think there'd be much to worry about eating for a while.
Ruggie: Don'tcha think?
Ruggie: I was thinkin', like, we could dry whatever was leftover and turn it to powder to make it last a bit longer…
Ruggie: But then Granny ended up boilin' 'em, fryin' 'em, and basically makin' a ton of dishes. It was a potato party extravaganza!
Ruggie: Me and the other street kiddos were just packin' 'em away, and little by little it started to disappear…
Ruggie: In the end, I couldn't make anything to save it for later.
Trey: Ah… That's rough.
Ruggie: And I never saw a potato that huge ever again. Guess good luck like that only ever hits once in a while.
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[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]
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Trey: Woah… This painting has a real powerful presence.
Ruggie: So, this is a painting of when the Thorn Fairy transformed into a dragon to fight, huh.
Trey: She looks way stronger than what her stories say. I bet I would be no match for her.
Ruggie: Eh!? Trey-san, you lookin' to pick a fight with the Thorn Fairy? It'd be waaay better to try 'n flatter her instead
Trey: Oho, but that might be the scarier route, don't you think? You might end up in deep trouble if you were to offend the Thorn Fairy instead.
Ruggie: Sheeheehee. Oh, but I'm pretty good with that kinda stuff.
Trey: Haha, well, I guess I have to admire that pluck.
Ruggie: But man, she's really something. She's the one that caused all that lightning too, right?
Ruggie: They say it was always thunderin' and lightnin' outside her castle as a way to keep intruders out… That's a huge undertakin', huh.
Ruggie: But with all those lightning strikes, I bet the bread prices were super cheap near the Thorn Fairy's castle.
Trey: Bread? …Ohh, right! Because when lightning strikes, certain particles are released in the air that helps plants grow.
Ruggie: Huh? Wait, are ya sayin' there's actually a whole science behind the whole "bread gets cheaper whenever it thunders"!?
Trey: Oh, isn't that what you meant?
Ruggie: I was just sayin' what Granny would always say…
Ruggie: Wait, so does that sayin' mean that 'cause more wheat gets harvested, more bread can get made, and that's why it's cheaper?
Trey: Yeah. Although, with how much we've developed our fertilizers nowadays, I don't know how much lightning strikes actually play a part anymore.
Ruggie: Cooool, I had no idea. Guess you Science Club folk know your stuff.
Ruggie: I bet Granny didn't really know the meanin' behind it like you did…
Ruggie: But I bet she saw with her own eyes the change in bread prices whenever there were tons of thunder and lightning.
Ruggie: But still… Kinda weird, huh. Sheeheehee.
Trey: Weird? What is?
Ruggie: Back when I was a kid, I only ever cared 'bout food, so there's no way I woulda been interested in learnin' why the bread was cheaper.
Ruggie: But now, I heard your whole spiel, and my reaction was to think it was pretty cool. Guess I'm maturin'.
Trey: Well… Maybe it's just that you can actually afford to take the time to listen now?
Ruggie: Maybe, maybe not. 'Cause my wallet's still pretty empty…
Ruggie: Oh hey, maybe this is just me bein' able to relax my stresses away, huh!? …Maybe not, heh.
Trey: Could be, if you're enjoying your time here, at least. Oops… Look at the time.
Trey: I think I'll head out to go check on how my dormmates are doing. See you, Ruggie.
Ruggie: 'Kaay, see ya. I'm gonna keep lookin' around this area a bit longer.
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Ruggie: Hm? This painting… A lion cub's just lollygaggin' with a warthog 'n a meerkat.
Ruggie: I'm wonderin' if they even know all the scary things that can happen to animals that step outta their territory, hm?
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Requested by Anonymous.
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railingsofsorrow · 1 day
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5 hours apart
[spencer reid x reader]
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summary: “I miss you. I miss you so much it hurts.” “I don't want you to miss me. It's tearing me apart.” from this prompt list.
pairing: spencer reid x svu!detective!f!reader
w.c: 3.7K
warnings/content: long distance relationship; crying; sadness; discussions of a case related to kidnapping (brief); migraine; this o.s approaches healthy siblings dynamic and some childhood trauma, be aware; discussions about marriage; spencer does not beat the pipe cleaner allegations.
A/N: decided to do a crossover one shot between criminal minds and law and order: svu (my newest obsession)because I love both shows (and nick amaro has older brother vibes) and it fit pretty well. there's like a few Spanish terms that I used and please consider that I did Spanish in high school and had a few classes afterwards, forgive me if I made some misspellings.
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There are two missed calls on your phonescreen when you turn it on. The heavy load of paperwork you needed to finish plus the migraine that did not leave you alone forced you to turn your phone off during the daytime so you could concentrate on working. Amanda and Fin telling you to go home wasn't as effective as your boss ordering the exact same thing upon seeing your tired state. Thankfully, by the time he did that, you had already finished everything and you happily obliged.
The keychain clinking against the doorknob makes you drop your shoulders in relief. You aren't home but it's close enough. It's been a few months since you have stepped into your brother's place, but it's the same as you remember. Grey couch, the spotless kitchen island that you can see as soon as you walk in, the innumerous pictures of your brother and your niece scattered around the walls.
You throw your dark brown blazer on the loveseat across the room and sit on the couch unceremoniously, pressing play on the latest voice message.
“Hey... It's me. I called you before and it went straight to voicemail, I... I forgot to say something.” You snort, hair falling off of your ponytail as you let it loose down your shoulders. Never have you ever seen your boyfriend forget something. “I'm sorry I couldn't make it. I know I promised and I really wanted to go but the case, it was a serious one, they needed me.” The guilt in his voice breaks a part of you inside. “I-I'm sorry I let you down.” There's a beat, some voices in the background that you can't make out who it is because they're too far away. “I love you and I'll make it up to you, okay? Call me when you can, please.” And the message ends.
You only notice you start crying when a sob echoes through the room and the sound comes from you.
You were never mad at him. Deep down, you expected him to cancel on you because of a case, you knew you would if you were needed. Both if you are not the kind of people who let your people hanging, especially if the reason is work. And that's fine, when you started dating Spencer, that was the first thing you understood, as he did.
Being far away from him is what kills you. You manage to work long-distance. He visits you on his (rare) day-offs, you escape for a few days to Virginia. It works. It's how you do. But there are moments in which you just need him close and it's not like you can drive over to his apartment right away. 5 hours apart does that to a couple. It's not unbearable, but it's painful.
You miss him.
So you dial the number you know by heart, sniffling quietly on your bubble of loneliness in the empty apartment.
You don't know where he is, if he's home, if he's in a completely different timezone. You don't care.
It rings twice before his voice fills up the call. “Hi—Hey, angel.” He sounds frantic. You smile thinking he must have been waiting for your call.
“Hey, Spence,” you respond, folding your knees on the couch. “Are you home? I didn't text first to see if it was a good time to talk, sorry.”
“It's always a good time to talk to you.” He says without hesitantion. “I'm on the motel, packing.”
“Oh, so did the case end okay?”
You can feel the relief through his exhale. “Yes, we found the boy on time. He's finally back with his parents. Home.”
Your mouth twitches, “that's good.” And you make sure to add as you always do, “you saved a life today, I'm proud of you.”
His soft awkward chuckle causes a tearful grin out of you. You can practically see him blushing.
“Thank you. It was... It's a good feeling.”
“Are you happy?”
“Not really.”
You brows furrow slightly. “Why? Did something happen?”
“I miss you,” he says. “I am happy that we saved someone today, of course but... You know, the first person I wanted to tell it to was you. I just— I miss you. So much it hurts.”
You close your eyes as the tears slip one by one down your cheeks, you felt their salty taste. Your chest clenching as you stay silent for what feels like several minutes until Spencer's concerned tone breaks the silence.
“Angel?”
“Please don't miss me. It's tearing me apart.” Your request doesn't quite make sense but you don't have time to think it through before you say it. It just what comes out of your heart.
“Please, don't cry.”
You let out a tearful laugh, attempting to dry your tears foolishly.
“I'm always missing you, sweetheart. I'm sorry but that's inevitable.” He adds, sadly.
“It hurts so fucking much.”
Spencer clears his throat and you know he's either refraining from crying himself or trying to mask it.
“I know. I'm sorry.” He pauses. “I wish I was there.”
You shake your head even though he can't see it. “'s not your fault. It's your job, you can't help it.”
"I hate it that you're crying and I'm not there to comfort you."
"I'm fine," you whisper, sniffling. "Don't worry about me. Today was just... A shitty day, really."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
You hum, fiddling with the soft fabric of the light green hand-knit throw blanket your brother always left on his couch. "Migraine." It's what you say and all he needs to know to wince in the other side of the line.
"Did you take something for it?" Spencer is aware of your frequent migraines and how much they bother you.
"Yeah, it's okay now." You reply even though there's a little painful pang in the back of your back right now.
"Maybe you should try to sleep a little. Did you know that sleeping seven hours every night impacts on your focus, body weight and immune system? Actually, adults aged from sixteen to sixty years should all get at least seven hours sleep every night, but that's almost never happens because of people's usual hectic work schedules-" He sucks in a breathe upon noticing he's rambling non-stop. You laugh and suddenly the harsh grip on your heart diminishes a little. His voice appeasing the momentary heartache you're going through.
"Says you. Who never sleeps, anyway. And work on caffeine 24/7."
"Hey," his tone has a tinge of amusement but he pretends to be offended. "I sleep."
"You do when I'm there. Cause I force you."
"Oh, you're so cruel to me, angel."
Your lips widen into a smirk. "That I am."
The conversation carries on for a while, until you figure out which time it is where he is and immediately orders him to go to sleep because he has an early flight to catch in the morning. He's reluctant, but he eventually lets it go because you need to sleep too and you will talk in the next day again.
Before he hangs up, he asks, the first time he hesitates in the call. "Uh, does- does your brother hate me?"
Your brain takes a few seconds to grasp what he's implying, until you remember what was supposed to happen this weekend. Spencer would come over to your place in New York to meet your brother.
You bite your lip, straightening your legs out on the ouch. "Yeah, about that..."
"He does, doesn't he? I don't blame him, I did screw up-"
"Wait, baby, that's not it. I... I actually didn't tell him." A pause, you curse under your breath. Now he must thing you didn't want him to come. "Spence?"
"Did I pressure to do something you didn't want? I should have asked you if you wanted meet to meet him, right? I think I kind of invited myself over and-"
"Stop." You cut him off. "No, Spencer. You didn't pressure me into anything. I want you two to meet, of course I do. You're one of the most important people to me, but I really forgot. I'm not making up an excuse."
"Alright, yeah. Okay." He says and you hear a door closing and wood creaking. He must be sitting on the bed.
"I love you." You receive the mental image of the scrunch of his nose and the smile he can't help whenever you drop the L bomb out of nowhere. "And you know he doesn't have to approve anything, right? Nick has no say in who I date or not."
"But he's your brother, he's important to you and I would meet him someday anyway because- I, well." Your body shakes with laughter and the phone almost drops from your hand.
"What, are you proposing now, genius? Through the phone, really?"
"Don't make fun of me." Spencer warns playfully.
You take a few seconds to process that he doesn't deny it. You said it as a joke but he didn't even deny it that he thinks about marrying you. God, your chest could combust.
"You think about it?" You ask, shifting your position to bring your knees to your chest. "Us? Someday?"
"You mean getting married to you? Yes. I do. We haven't discussed it yet, but... Yes, I do think about it."
"Mhm."
"Has it ever... crossed your mind?" He's reluctant, shy to ask even. You find it cute as everything Spencer Reid does. Marriage is something that never really crossed your mind, to be honest. You think is nice when people get married and show their love to their loved ones, but your parents' relationship carved a fear deep within your chest and your entire perception of love had to be relearned through the years they separated. One thing that you learned is that no person and no relationship is the same. It's not because your father broke your trust and destroyed a part of your and your brother's childhood that your future partners will do the same. It is easier said than done, but you're coming around to the idea.
"Not before you." You admit quietly.
"Oh."
“Yeah.” You ponder out loud. “It scares me a bit, that I consider spending the rest of my life by your side. Doesn't it scare you?”
“It does,” he replies. “But the idea is nice to think about.”
You smile, letting out a soft breath. “Yeah, it is nice.”
A male voice calls out for him in his end and you know he has to go. You had already taken up much of his time, anyway.
“They want to go to a bar nearby to celebrate.” Spencer explains to you, not sounding too thrilled about the idea.
You snicker, “go have fun, genius. You deserve it. Try to enjoy it even if this is not your usual idea for fun. I love you.”
“I love you more.” Spencer says and laughs at your groan of protest on the other side.
“We're not going to be one of those couples who never hang up because you love me more or no, I love you more, Spencer.”
“I just like to mess with you.” He admits with an edge of amusement to his tone. And damn you miss the smirk you know he's making right now.
“Yeah, I know. Now go, have fun. And have a safe flight tomorrow, text me when you land?”
“Of course, angel. Try to sleep a bit, you need the rest.”
You smile. “Sure. Bye, Spence.”
“Bye, angel.”
An hour or two goes by since your phone call with your boyfriend and manage to cook some dinner and then throw yourself back on the couch while a random show is played on TV. You end up falling asleep and wake up upon hearing the jiggling keys against the door of your brother's apartment, rubbing your eyes in your disoriented sleepy state. Checking your phone, the screen says 11p.m.
Nick stops midway from his way to the couch, where he was probably about to throw himself at. From his tired eyes and hunched over stance, you are able to tell how exhausted he is. “Why are you always here?” Nick throws himself on the floor instead, his head falling against your knees. The tone he used would make you slap him right behind his ear, if you weren't still with your mind in that phone call and a million miles away from New York. “I thought you rented an apartment. Or is it that you just miss me?”
“I don't miss you.” You mumble, voice muffled by the soft fabric of the blanket covering half of your face. “I see you every day, idiot. How can I miss you.”
Nick raises an arm towards your calf and you immediately kick his hand away before it can get to your feet. He chuckles, fluttering his eyes open for the first time since he got home. He glances up at you, who's glaring at him. His smile falls.
“What's wrong?”
You shrug, pulling your knees up to your chest and turning your head towards the TV. You weren't paying attention since the show started, you had no idea what is going on. “I cooked dinner. Left you a plate on the microwave. Go eat, I bet you didn't have a proper meal. You never do.”
“That's not true—”
“Eating burritos isn't a proper meal, Nick.” You groan as he tries to take another look at your face. “Stop it. I'm fine.”
“Yeah, I don't buy it. What happened?” If there's one thing your brother is, that thing is anxious. Nick is a worrier. And he's completely paranoid about knowing what's going on to find a solution before the time runs out. Even if there is no time to run out. He gently tips your chin up, frowning. “Why have you been cryin’?”
You turn your face away from his reach, sitting up on the couch. You take a moment to form your answer and he's anxiously waiting for it, coffee-brown eyes inspecting your matching ones.
You decide to go simple, but it's also the truth. “'s not a good day, that's all.”
He blinks and then the concern opens some space for understanding in his expression. And just like that, he figures out what's been making you upset. You don't doubt that he really knows, since your brother and you always understand each other with a look.
“D'you wanna talk about it?” His usual sarcastic tone gives place to a softer one. The one he uses in moments where his little sister needs her older brother.
You shrug, letting out a sigh before resting your head against the couch, eyes studying the ceiling. “It's nothing, I just... I miss Virginia, that's all.”
Nick hums, nodding. “You mean you miss the skinny kid from the FBI.”
A laugh bubbles out of you unexpectedly, you playfully shove his shoulder as he offers you an unimpressed look.
“Stop being mean to him.”
“Me?” Nick pulls himself up to the sofa, groaning when his joints complain as he stands up. “'m not being mean to anybody.”
“Okay, grandpa.”
“Hey,” he throws a pillow at you, narrowing his eyes threateningly. “you don't get to be mean to me.” You roll your eyes. There he goes playing the older card that just makes him look exactly like an elderly. “Why don't you take a few days off? I can't remember the last time you did that.” Before you can respond to that, he frowns, turning to you as if he just had thought of something. “Or why doesn't the skinny kid come and visit you? It's not that hard.”
“He was gonna to that this weekend.” His raised eyebrow makes you sigh and shake your head. “He had a case last minute, so he couldn't.”
He pauses, munching on his cheek. You question his thoughtful expression.
“What? No jokes now?”
“It's serious then? You and him.”
You blink at him, puzzled by the question. It wasn't what you expected. “W—yes. Why would you ask that?” He had walked up to the kitchen to grab a bite of whatever you had made him and you followed right behind.
“Nothin’,” he says, turning the microwave on and stepping towards the fridge to grab something to drink. “I just never saw you in a serious relationship.”
You pause.
Okay, you had a few flings in your life, it's not like your love life is messy, it is actually pretty simple. You and the people you've previously have relationships (or situationships) enjoyed having fun. You weren't looking for anything serious and when you were... well, your job got in the way. Until Spencer Reid. He's the unexpected occurrence that showed up during a local case to investigate a series of murders in the city of New York and both of your teams worked together. If someone told you before that you would get attached so quickly to someone and consider driving five hours just because you missed them then you would have laughed in their face.
Your brother might actually have a point. He had never seen you in a serious commitment before, he has, however, had the opportunity to try and scare off some of your partners — the ones he accidentally met, at least.
“I don't need to disclosure every aspect of my love life to you, Nicholas.”
You crossed your arms as the corner of his lips lift in a knowing smile. “Stand down, tiger. I just made an observation, no need to get defensive.”
“I'm not.” You say, shifting on your feet, suddenly self-conscious with the whole conversation. It's difficult to talk about someone so important to you to another someone that's important to you. You've never share much about your personal life and inner struggles with anybody, and that has everything to do with the man you call “father” in the biological sense. But Spencer managed to push through these walls and he didn't demeaned you because of your trauma, neither did he treated you as if you were made out of glass, that you could shatter at any given second. He understood you and you understood him, which is why love has always been within your reach in your relationship. It was only a matter of time.
“He's important to you, isn't he?” The microwave beeped but none of you move.
“Yes.” You utter, playing with the ring on your index finger. “I know we don't— we don't talk about these stuff...”
“We can if you want to—”
“No, it's not— That's not it. I mean. You're my brother and we have a good communication but I never felt the need to formally introduce anyone to you because you're family, Nick. You're my only family,” you finally look at him. “If it ever got to the point, one day, where it was worth it for me to do that, then I would. I just thought that I wasn't made for love, you know?”
You see him rushing to disagree with you and probably say you can't think like this and that is not true, so you intervene before, smiling.
“But I know that that is not true, alright? Porque le quiero y sé que él también.” His eyes soften at your claim and you feel like crying again because you miss Spencer and you wish he's there with you. “So yeah, it is serious. And the reason he was going to come visit me was to meet you properly.”
“What?”
“Yes. That was my reaction too.” A fond smile takes over your mouth. “He insisted he wanted to meet you because he knows how important you are to me.”
“Oh.” He is officially caught off guard and it makes you chuckle. That is a rare image you're seeing in front of you. No one catches Nick Amaro off guard. One point to Spencer, I guess. “Well, now I just have to meet this chico who stole my sister's heart.” He's back to his playful persona, lifting a hand to ruffle your hair, and you flip him off. “Let's see if he is all that you claim he is.”
“He's a good guy, asshole.” He hums, munching on his food. “You'll see,” you say with a small grin while you turn back to the living room to lay back on the couch.
“We'll see.” He mumbles from the kitchen, shaking his head when a thought crosses his mind. He can't believe you fell in love, he still sees you as an annoying toddler who wouldn't let him be at school while he was trying to impress his friends because you were too shy to make your own and would cling to him like a lifeline. In all honesty, Nick has always enjoyed your company, it makes him feel grounded. He cares about your well-being and tries to protect you from every bad thing you have to face, but he knows he can't. Sometimes, you gotta face things on your own. And, sometimes, you don't need your older brother to shield you from pain. It's hard for him to accept that, especially after what you both endured through your lives.
You're all grown up now and he has to stand down his overprotective side because you can handle things, he knows you do. Though he'll be there, in the corner, having your back as always. Because that's what brothers do.
Hopefully, this Spencer Reid will pass the test.
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[translation]
Porque le quiero y sé que él también. = because I love him and I know that he does too
chico = boy, kid
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taglist: @lilyviolets ; @whore-for-spencer-reid ; @yeonalie @ninkieminjaj ;
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alliyanna462 · 2 days
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☆A Party To Remember☆
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Summary: When your boyfriend is late picking you up for a party, you find your own ride there and the night takes an unexpected turn.
Pairing: Fratboy!Matt x Reader
Warnings: Lots of cussing, unprotected sex (please wrap it before you tap it!), p in v, spanking (?), Dirty talk, degrading if you squint
Author's note: This is my first ever fic so if it's bad please ignore it I'm sorry if you don't like it, anyways I love you tumblr Sturniolo Fandom! Hope you enjoy
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The time on my phone read 7:45. Fuck I'm gonna be late. I dug through my vanity drawers looking for my signature lipstick. Of course it's at the bottom. I mentally groaned at the mess I made of my room while trying to get ready. I applied the lipstick with a 'pop' of my lips and did a once over in the mirror.
I headed down my stairs and shot a text to my boyfriend, Jace, that I was heading out since he was my uber for the night. I locked the door on my way out and to my surprise (not) his car wasn't outside..again.
'Hey I'm ready for Jessica's party, where are you?'
I waited for 5 minutes on a text back and started to lose my patience. I decided to call him.
"You better pick up, bastard." I spit. He's always late for everything and never has a good enough reason why. I let the phone ring a couple times before hanging up and calling my best friend Maddie in a haste.
The phone barely rang before I heard a gruffy voice on the other line.
"Hey Y/n it's Nick. Where are you girl you're missing all the fun."
"Yeah yeah I know, stupid ass Jace is late again."
"Oh shit he was your ride? I thought you broke it off with him?"
"I did but we made up last week."
"Oh...well I hate to break it to you Y/n but he's not late..he's all over the birthday girl right now."
"WHAT?!" I hissed. "He left me here to be with Jessica are you fucking kidding me?!"
"I know", Nick sighed, "I don't even know why Matt fucks with her knowing she's been passed around worse than a blunt."
"Because your brother is just as bad as she is." I seethed.
Matthew Sturniolo was the biggest playboy in the whole college campus, and lucky me I fell for his charm. We dated for almost a year before I found out I wasn't the only girl visiting his bed if you know what I mean. I really thought I could change a fuckboy, silly me.
"And that's a story for another time Y/n. Look Maddie and I will come get you. We haven't started drinking just yet."
"Okay thank you Nick really. You know you're my favorite sturniolo." I praised.
"Yeah yeah, we're coming see you soon." Nick chuckled.
The phone clicked with a beep before my screen went black. They'd be here fairly soon considering the party is just a couple blocks down but your girl can't walk in heels to save her life.
Now back to the bigger problem at hand, I sent Jace one last message.
'You're a fucking dick.'
I hugged my jacket closer to my skimpily clothed body searching for warmth. Soon enough Nick came and picked me up in Maddie's car with her jamming out in the passenger seat to Genie in a Bottle. I giggled before climbing into the backseat.
-------------At the party----------------
I was downing vodka shots back to back while Nick and Maddie left a while ago to go dance. Jessica was grinding on, my now ex boyfriend, Jace in the corner of the dimly lit room to shitty rap music that was being played in the background. I couldn't take my eyes off them as I was drinking my anger away into the bitter shots I was slamming down my throat, first Matt now Jace too? Desperate bitch.
Well that was until none other than the fuckboy himself walked into the kitchen.
"Well hello Y/n long time no see hm?" Matt said cockily.
"Yeah what a pleasure it is." I said sarcastically.
"Always is. Now I'm no expert on faces but isn't that your boy toy out there getting dry fucked by Jessica?" He said gesturing to the blonde that was throwing herself onto Jace.
"Yeah and isn't that your whore who's doing it? Better get your bitches in line Matty baby, its kind of embarrassing for you." I rolled my eyes at him.
"Now you know I can satisfy, darling," he said with a wink.
Jace locked eyes with me as he started kissing on Jessica's neck. And the LAST thing I'm going to let Jace do is think he won.
I grabbed Matt by the scruff of his hair an slammed his lips on mine. He let out a whimper in shock but hesitantly started kissing back. I could feel Jace staring, so I grabbed Matt by the hand and whispered in his ear.
"Let's take this upstairs Matty." Hate fuck my ex, that seems like pretty good payback.
I dragged him by his hand up the stairs at a quick pace with him fumbling to keep up with me. Jace watched with a dumbfounded expression until we both disappeared into the many bodies fondling each other on the stairwell.
With Matt still holding my hand I found an empty bedroom. I opened the door and shoved him inside. Once the door was closed I locked it and let out an exasperated sigh.
Matt looked at me and said, "So what was all that about?" He quirked an eyebrow up.
"That motherfucker doesn't get to have the last laugh, I do." I ran my hands down my face starting to feel tipsy.
"Well we're both locked in this bedroom, and I've got to say Y/n, you look hot." He inched closer to me with a smirk.
I opened my eyes to him standing right in front of me, cornering me to the door. My face felt hot as I shivered in excitement. Seeing him this close to me all over again, God I missed this. He put one of his hands on my hip and the other tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.
"Why don't we make him really jealous hm?" He whispered. His breath hit my lips and my core fluttered. I may hate this man but God was he hot.
"Convince me." My voice came out barely audible. He shot me a boyish grin and touched his lips to my ear. "You know I missed you babygirl." He gripped my hip harder. "Missed hearing you whine my name and those pretty little noises you make." He growled, getting desperate by the minute.
"Will you please let me ruin that pretty little cunt baby?" He hissed grinding his painfully hard erection into my clothed core.
I whined at the friction and couldn't do anything but nod. "Need you to use your words love." He stated firmly.
"Y-yes Matt, please I want you." I whined pathetically. Honestly the truth is I did miss him but I wouldn't let a soul hear me say that. So I'll settle for him fucking me tonight.
He licked a trail down my neck and started sucking on my sweet spot making me moan into it. In some sick twisted way this is my way for getting back at Jace, yes, but also getting my lick back at Jessica because it was no secret she wanted Matt but he made it very clear all he wanted from her was sex, so therefore she was always jealous of me. So now I get him all to myself all over again.
He picked me up by my ass making me wrap my legs around him while he was still sucking on my neck. He sat on the edge of the bed with me in his lap. I ran my fingers through his hair to the nape of his neck and pulled him away from mine. I slammed my lips back onto his.
I licked his lip asking for entry in which he happily obliged. I ran my tongue along his and bit his bottom lip only for my tongue to dive back in. He moaned into the kiss and started bucking his hips up, showing me how needy he was.
I broke away from the kiss long enough to take his shirt off and went back in for more. I kissed down his jaw to his torse working my way down to his pants. I unbuttoned them and signaled for him to raise his bottom half. I slid both his pants and boxers down to the middle of his thighs and sucked at his hip bone.
"Fuck baby, please." He pleaded, his blue irises almost completely taken over by his blown out pupils. He looked so pretty laying underneath me like this.
"Fine." I huffed. I kissed his tip, making his dick jump at the contact before sitting up and straddling him. I took my shirt off, my tits bouncing at the motion. He quickly grabbed them and put one in his mouth, tongue swirling around the bud with his other hand fondling the other. I let out the most pathetic moan at the notion.
He slid my shorts and panties to the side in one quick move while continuing the assault on my nipples. He swiped a finger through my dripping folds.
"M-matt I need you." I sighed in pleasure. He pulled my nipple with a 'pop'.
"Shhh baby I've got you." He raised me up and put me on my back on the bed quickly getting on top of me. He looked at me for reassurance and I nodded my head.
He smirked and lined his tip up with my entrance slowly grinding his hips into mine, hitting every spot only he knew how to.
I sighed in ecstasy, seeing stars behind my eyelids.
He grunted once he fully bottomed out in me. Plopping his head into the crook of my neck waiting for me to get accustomed to his size.
"Tell me when you're ready baby girl." He whispered while peppering kisses on my jaw.
I gave him his answer by jutting my hips up into his making him go even deeper. He moaned and started to slide in and out of me at a rapid rate. I decided it'd be fun to tease him so I did something I knew would piss him off. "Oh my God Jace you feel soo good!" I moaned.
He stilled his movements and rose his head up to look down at me. "What the FUCK did you just say to me Y/n." He spit. I just smirked at him in response. "If you want to act like a slut I'll fucking treat you like one." He seethed.
He pulled all the way out and flipped me over onto my back. Before I knew what was happening he pulled my hips up and forced my head into the pillow before slamming back into me harder and faster than before. I started moaning uncontrollably and clenching around him.
"How could you ever call me that bastard's name when you fit around me like this. He'd never fuck you like this, slut. Only I can." He growled. "What's my name, Y/n." He asked as I felt a harsh smack on my ass. I whimpered at the contact.
"Oh my God, Matt, please I'm s-so..so close baby." I could barely comprehend what he was saying.
"Who's pussy does this belong to? Hm slut?" He pulled my hair making me arch my back. He went impossibly deeper, making me scream. "It's yours Matt! It's always been yours!" I wailed, tears threatening to spill from my eyes.
"Good girl," he pushed my head back into the pillow, continuing the assault on my sore cunt. I gasped for breath before I felt my release building up in the pit of my stomach. My legs shaking was a sign for him that I was close. He spanked me again stilling his movements once more. "Come on baby if you want to cum you're gonna have to fuck yourself on my cock." He challenged with his hands digging into the flesh of my hips. I started rocking back onto him at a fast pace, desperately chasing my high.
He reached across me, running the pads of his fingers across my puffy clit. That's what did me in.
"Shitt I'm cumming, Matt!" I whined as the coil in my stomach suddenly burst, white clouding my eyelids as I squeezed them shut, tears flowing out uncontrollably. Still rocking back into him to ride out my high. Matt rubbed my hair and shushed me, "It's okay baby I'm here." He cooed.
I wailed into the pillow as I got overstimulated, pulling off him. That didn't last long though before Matt grabbed my hips pulling me back onto him. "I was nice enough to let you cum don't you think I deserve to?" He uttered before rutting his hips into mine and bottoming out once more. His pace was animalistic almost. He leaned over and grabbed my neck to have a better angle. Making me a bawling mess due to the mix of pain and pleasure.
His hips started to stutter as he grunted in my ear. "Your pretty pussy takes me so well, Y/n baby. Don't know why I ever let it go." Matt said before letting out a string of curses and a mantra of 'I love yous' as his hips faltered. Hot spurts of cum flooded my walls. He pulled out with an exhausted sigh, making me frown at the empty feeling. A very fucked out Matt laid beside me letting out small pants.
As I come to, I realize the fact he said I love you and I become enraged. I roll over to face him and shove his shoulder. "You don't love me and you never did otherwise you wouldn't have fucking cheated on me!" I yell while getting up.
"Woah what the actual FUCK are you talking about Y/n? Cheated on you?!" He he says in a dumbfounded tone. Watching me rush to put my clothes back on.
"I heard about the women you brought to bed when we were together!" I cried. "This was such a mistake oh my god." He rose up putting his boxers back on.
"Who told you that? What women Y/n?" He said genuinely confused and concerned, fully standing up now.
"I overheard Jessica telling one of her girlfriends last semester in the food court about how you fucked her!"
As I said it out loud the more stupid I felt. That bitch was lying.
"Y/n baby, you know she was jealous of what we had, of course she'd try to break us up. Is that why you left me?!" Matt asked running a hand along my cheek causing a tear to trickle out of my eye.
"I guess I was scared of getting hurt so I left before you could confirm it," I looked down in shame. He picked my chin up, kissing me.
"I'm sorry you felt that way my love. But I've lived my life far too long without you, give me another chance to prove you're the only girl for me?" Matt asked with a hopeful gleam in his eye. I kissed him once more.
"Of course Matty." I giggled.
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Please tell me what you think and what I need to work on!! Thank you for your time! Hope you all enjoyed.
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ghyulia · 2 days
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𝗢𝗯𝗲𝘆 𝗠𝗲 𝗕𝗿𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝘀! 𝗪𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗧𝗵𝗲𝘆 𝗙𝗶𝗻𝗱 𝗢𝘂𝘁 𝗧𝗵𝗲𝘆’𝗿𝗲 𝗬𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗧𝘆𝗽𝗲 𝗽𝟮!
p1 | p2
‹𝟹 ft. Satan & Beelzebub
sorry for any grammar mistakes!!
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𝗦𝗮𝘁𝗮𝗻
𐙚 . He's pretty surprised. Satan knows that he's pretty attractive, but he doesn't have the best of qualities. He genuinely thinks you would fare better with someone who isn't as.. short-fused as him. He appreciates your feelings, of course! He's so madly in love with you
𐙚. Satan resolves not to mention it or make an appearance at the moment as quietly makes his way back to his room. He doesn't think you noticed him.
𐙚. Little did he know, you managed to catch a glimpse of a blonde head swiftly disappearing from behind the door. You knew he heard you and chose not to say anything or make himself known. This threw you for a loop. Did he like you? Did he try to flee the scene in hopes that you wouldn't notice him because he didn't feel that way about you?! All of these thoughts were weighing you down.
𐙚. After a few hours, you finally decided to man up and pay him a visit. It wasn't unusual for you to visit him at this time, since you both usually liked to read while occasionally talking about events that transpired through the day.
𐙚. You knock twice. "Satan?"
"Oh, (Name)." "Come in."
You warily open the door, all your confidence from a few minutes ago dissipating. It's now or never, anyway. You swallow your fear.
"How was your day?" You say. "It was pretty normal. Remember that book from the human world that piqued my interest? It finally came in. I was pretty excited to read it, but I thought it might be better to wait for you. I got a little impatient and read the first few pages, though...I hope that's fine." "Hey, (Name), you seem really tense. Is everything all right?" Satan points out.
"Huh? ..Oh yeah. I'm good..I'm super excited to read the book, too!" You force out. He really is acting like he didn't hear what you said. You were starting to get frustrated, and Satan could notice it too.
"Seriously, (Name). What's up with you?" Satan inquires, confusion written all over his face. His beautiful face. That stupid face!! That face to the body of a stupid demon who's acting like he didn't stupidly hear your confession of love (it wasn't even really a confession..)! That tipped you over the edge.
"What's up with me is that I said you were my type! You were there! You were there....and now you're pretending not to have heard me! That obviously means you don't like me, or at least not enough to mention it! It makes me feel so stupid, Satan. So, so unbelievably stupid. And I know it's not your fault, but sometimes I feel like what we do is pretty intimate, you know?! I mean when we read in your room I'm basically on top of you. A guy who doesn't like me should at least have the decency to stop me from making a fool out of myself. He should push me off him! I really like you, but you obviously don't reciprocate, so you should at least say somet-"
Your ramble is abruptly halted with a short, sweet peck on your cheek. You tilt your head a little to face the Cynical Fourth born, whose ears are fully crimson.
"Y-You.."
"(Name), I'm sorry. I didn't... really know how to bring it up. I told myself that I would later, after we got comfortable. Of course I'm into you. Who wouldn't be? You're amazing, funny, and kind, and you never fail to bring a smile to my face. I'm always quick to anger, as you know..but around you, I always find myself striving to be a better person. You keep me in check. I'm not just into you... I know for a fact that.. ᵗʰᵃᵗ ⁱ..ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ." He barely mumbles out the last part. Your smile grows wider and wider, before you all but pounce on the demon.
"I guess that would make us the perfect pair because I feel the exact way about you, 'Tan!"
Satan's smile is the widest you've ever seen. He doesn't know what the future has in store for him, but he knows that as long as you are by his side, there will be nothing he can't overcome.
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𝗕𝗲𝗲𝗹𝘇𝗲𝗯𝘂𝗯
𖦹 He doesn't understand. He's your ideal type of what? He doesn't get it, so he just ignores the statement for a while and continues doing his daily activities.
𖦹 A few hours later, the thought of what you said resurfaces, and while filming his new DevilTube workout video with Asmodeus, Beel decides to ask what it means to be someone's "Ideal type." Once Asmo explains what it means and he finally understands and fully processes what you meant by the statement, he goes fully red. He's so embarrassed he didn't get that earlier. But at the same time, he's ecstatic. You're his type too!
𖦹 Poor guy can't even focus on his workout video. He wraps it up as quickly as possible, leaving Asmo with the editing, and makes a beeline for your room. He stops halfway.
𖦹 He's sweating like a pig...It would probably be best to freshen up before confronting you about what you said. He makes a mad dash to the shower, freshens up quickly, and then hastily makes his way to your room.
"(Name)? You in there?"
"Yeah! Come in, the door is unlocked." Your voice was muffled. "Sorry, I'm looking for a potions book Solomon lent to me. What's up? Asmo was texting the group chat about how you abandoned your "Deviltuber Duties"..or something," You giggled, still not facing him.
"Earlier..You said I was your ideal type. I didn't know what it meant, so I ignored it, but I know what it means now.." Beel confesses.
You freeze. "You heard that?!" You quickly turn around. You felt like all the blood you had in your human body was rushing straight to your face. Your eyes meet his, and you finally realize that the 6'4 demon's face is also decorated in a deep shade of red. You guys are practically matching at this point!
"(Name)... You should probably know that you're my type too. You've always accepted me and my brothers. You still treated Belphie with kindness even after the rough start you two had. I admired that about you. I'm okay with sharing my food if it's you. I've always thought you were amazing ever since the day you stood up for me and Luke. You didn't waver in front of Lucifer, who can be really scary at times...and it made me feel so warm. My feelings only grew from there."
You tear up a little. "Beel, you're so amazing. I don't know what I did to deserve someone like you."
"I think it's the other way around, (Name)." Beel leaves a chaste kiss on your lips and engulfs you in a warm hug.
The Gluttonous seventh-born knows he'll continue to treasure you forever. Beelzebub had never paid any mind to the sun at first because it never shined in the Devildom, but you changed that. You exuded light and radiance from the moment he met you. You were the sun. His sun. He's just so happy that he gets to be the one closest to your heart. You smile and indulge in his embrace, the potions book long forgotten.
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a/n: ahhh it's done!! sorry for the wait omg :(( I'm thinking of what to write ab next but I hope ygs enjoyed this one! oh if anyone has any ideas on what I shld write abt next pleaseee lmk haha :)
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r0-boat · 1 day
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might i request ur thoughts on cock warming the whb kings + amon perhaps
Bark bark bark cockwarming!!!
Aaa
Whb Kings+Amon
Cockwarming reaction!
NSFW mdni
You ended up tying him down because he didn't want to be a good boy and sit there patiently.
Satan
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To his credit, he did last for a little while. You heard all the delicious sounds he made while his hands roamed and groped your body. It felt good at first. A feeling he had never felt before, their walls snug around his cock; he felt so warm, so hard. But after a while, it became agony. Especially when you would clench around him; you felt so good... All he wanted to do was move. He was gritting his teeth, grumbling in protest when you would discipline him for pushing his hips against you.
Oh yeah he can get behind this, He can't stop running his fingers over the little bulge in your tummy from his big heavy cock nothing right up against your warm walls. Look at you sitting pretty in his lap your ass on display for him to grab. And the best part is, He could admire all his possessions while you use him like one.
Mammon
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You're 100% in control of this large beast of a man, even though it really doesn't feel like it. Especially when his big cock stretches you so good even when you're not moving, every twitch makes you clench and gasp.
This is terrible! But it's so good. Oh Fuck- you're clenching! And his eyes are rolling back. It hurts so good! He doesn't even remember the last time he has been this hard. Hes fucking throbbing. That you feel so warm. Every slightest movement which he hates so much, because it's not fair! He's so jealous that you're still allowed to move your hips even though he can't move it all. But he can't tell you to stop. Because when you do move ever so slightly, that painful, heated pleasure hits him tenfold. He's losing his mind and it's your fault! He's almost at his limit if you move one more time, He's going to throw you down and fuck you till you pass out.
Leviathan
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What the fuck, is this torture?! Please!! Please move he'll do anything!! Beel is whimpering begging moaning for you to move your hips. Tied down with no real way to move, He realized on you for his pleasure; too bad you're a sick and twisted human!!
Beelzebub
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You feel so good, so tight, so warm. He wants more!! He needs more! Like Satan you had to tie him down and he still tries to move his hips. Acting more like a beast than a devil his eyes glazed over with lust. There was nothing left but hunger has he still tries to struggle and break the binding so he could fully have you.
His nose nuzzling into your shoulder, His arms wrapped tightly around you pulling you against his naked body, his hand slowly roaming every part of your body feeling every part of your soft comfy skin as he lays against it like a pillow. His cock at home deep inside you, so warm so soft.
Amon
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"mmh So good for me."He murmurs against your neck. He could fall asleep like this. He wishes all of his naps were like this.
Now that he knows that something like this exists. That he could just stay inside you for however long he wants; fucking you and resting at the same time, that he could fall asleep and feel this good at the same time.
He wants to have you on his cock always. When you're sitting down next to him Amon will rap an arm around you pulling you closer. Trying to convince you to warm his cock for a while.
So sinful, how is he supposed to pay attention to his paperwork while you're sitting so pretty in his lap. You're so small and you fit around him so good. Your skin is so soft. The softest thing he have ever felt in his life as an angel and a devil. With his arm wrapped around you his head buried in your hair the pen scrabbling on the paper begins to slow. A whimper escapes his throat as he tries to grind himself deeper.
Lucifer
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"You're not supposed to move."You say with a cute smile that's sinful looking your eye that he is grown to love.
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wonbin-truther · 3 days
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too nice haechan x reader - 791 words angst, mentions of drinking and bars, reader fumbles the bag (haechan) again
haechan watches across the bar as you down your 10th shot of some clear liquid that another man had bought for you. he watches as your lips that were once his move against the lips of another man. mark walks up to his side and groans, "dude she's not worth it. i don't even know why she's here." he was right. you lived on the other side of town. a part of him wonder and hoped you were here because you knew he would be too. mark nudged him to get his attention, "how about we go to karaoke." haechan broke his gaze away from your figure, walking out the door with a mans hand in your back-pocket. "sure," he downed the last of his drink. it seemed as if you followed him everywhere making haechan wonder which god he pissed off in a past life. the next time was in the rain. there you sat on the swing of the old playground as the cold pellets hit you, looking down at your feet. hyuck also wonders in that moment what magnetic force is in him as he walks up to you, placing his umbrella over you. the rain hits him and soaks through his sweater but he doesnt care as your eyes looked up and met his. even as the rain beaded down from your hair onto your face he could tell you had been crying. he put his hand out to you and you took it, following him to his house. you sat with your head down as he lifted the wet top over your head, replacing it with a dry out. you let him dry your hair with a towel and lead you too his room. you sat on the edge of his bed and the tears flowed again, "i'm so sorry." he didnt say anything as he gathered a pillow and blanket for himself. "hyuck im so sorry. you're too nice for me," you continued. he paused to look at you before retreating to the couch for the night, "i know". when he woke up the next day you were nothing but a fleeting memory and crumbled up bed sheets at the foot of his bed. he expected a little more from a girl he dated for nearly 4 years, maybe a note or a text. he looked at his phone to no notification. he wondered for a moment if he blocked you again but remembered you remained unblocked after he drunk called you 5 times last month (none of which you answered).
he hated this run around he always did with you. here he was, drunk in your car as you drove to your apartment. he blabbered in the passengers seat about how he missed you and you sat in silence as your eyes were locked on the road. you swore you had mark's number saved. you paced around your living room as haechan was asleep on your couch. you couldn't have him here. nothing good ever came of haechan in your close proximity. you had broken it off with him last summer. you can't place why it happened. when your close friends asked you what happened you shrugged and just replied "the spark burned out". it was a lie. even as he laid on your couch drooling on a pillow, smelling like cheep wiskey and another girls perfume, you felt nothing but pure love. it was something inside you that you could never tell anyone about. a little voice saying he was too good for you. you never deserved him. why would someone like you be with someone like him? you let the little voice win. no matter who you made out with at bars or who walked you up to your doorstep and made sure you got in safe, they would never be lee haechan. you thanked everything when you finally found marks number. he picked up on the second ring. "uhh who is this?" his voice was sleep deprived "hi sorry it's yn. um can you please pick up haechan" "yea give me a second" and he hung up mark lee was just as you had remembered. he had a certain boyish charm you could never quite put your finger on but pulled you towards him. he walked into your house and slung haechan's arm over his shoulder, hoisting him up. "thank you for keeping him safe." "please dont mention he was here in the morning" mark gave you a soft smile as he bid you goodnight and left. he was true to his word and you didn't a text or call from haechan in the morning. the disappointment settled in your gut as you reminded yourself he was too good for you.
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ninjakk · 14 hours
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Hey!!
I recently saw someone claim that Wei Wuxian was starved of conversation on his journey to Yiling with Lan Wangji and Wen Ning and so board he needed to chat to people before they ascend the mountain. I hadn't really noticed this until it was mentioned. What do you think of that scene?
I love your meta and fics btw. You use your understanding of the novel in your writing and it's just *chef's kiss*
Hi anon 👋🏻
Personally, I've not seen any comments regarding the above - but we can certainly look at the text in question 😊
Let's take a look at the scene in question:
Several days later, they arrived in Yiling.
The Burial Mounds were less than five kilometers ahead of this small town. Although they didn’t know exactly what awaited them there, Wei Wuxian had a feeling it wasn’t anything good. But Lan Wangji was right by his side, his gait steady, his gaze cool. Wei Wuxian had never been one with any sense of crisis to begin with, and with the way Lan Wangji looked, he was even less likely to get nervous at all.
Passing through the small town of Yiling, he was awash in the sounds of the local accent. It was invigorating and incomparably endearing. While he wasn’t planning on buying anything, he couldn’t help but strike up conversations in the local dialect with the street vendors. Only after he’d had his fill of socializing did he get down to business.
“Hanguang-jun, you remember this town, right?”
7S translation
So the scene opens with WWX gushing over how safe and happy he feels around LWJ. He's just so thankful to have someone by his side, someone he can fully depend on and is there for him, should he need it. This very much echoes his thoughts from when they began their descent from the Cloud Recesses, at the start of their journey here. For someone nearing the place he met such a gruesome end at previously, he seems incredibly content and calm - all thanks to LWJ. So straight away, we are reminded of how WWX feels around the other man. It's there for a reason, to set the scene. WWX is relaxed and enjoying himself because he's with LWJ.
They have just arrived in a city he is very familiar with. It's the place he both lived as an orphan and frequented as a man while residing at the burial mounds. He is surrounded by the accent of his "home" for the first time in over 13 years and it's making him feel sentimental. I also think it's a great parallel between when WWX finally visits Lotus Pier in the coming chapters and how desolate and subdued the place has become since JC became sect leader.
I think the above reaction is very normal considering the emotional impact it obviously had on him. WWX has already stated on numerous occasions that LWJ makes him happy and he enjoys his company, but he's also very sociable and likes to look around markets and chat with vendors - there's even a scene in the novel which states as such and many other examples. Although WWX is running around chatting and exploring the stalls, LWJ is still by his side. Doing so does not subtract from his obvious enjoyment of having LWJ's unwavering presence.
We see more than enough evidence that WWX happily chats to LWJ and that he, in turn, even responds and asks questions also. There seems to be this mind-boggling misconception that LWJ literally doesn't speak, and if he does he's like some caveman that can't communicate effectively, when it's the exact opposite. LWJ talks when necessary and is very succinct with his words - he's a true gentleman of their time. Of course, in comparison to WWX, he's much less chatty - but when he does talk it's sincere and relevant. WWX loves this about him! He's also an incredible listener and doesn't miss a single thing WWX says, which WWX also appreciates! Hardly anyone listens to all his ramblings and holds them all so dearly!
It's funny, because although WWX chats to anyone and everyone, it's obvious he enjoys conversing with LWJ the most. He treasures the fact they are on the same wavelength and understand each other implicitly 🥰
Aww! Thank you so much anon! I'm glad you are enjoying my meta and fics ❤️
I hope I managed to answer your question! Have a lovely day 😘
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anotherbluesunday · 22 hours
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✨Fic Release: In Technicolor—Ch. 1: Hell in a Handbasket (Pugsley + Cheryl)✨
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____________Pugsley/Lee____________
Just past the shopping center that housed the Erewhon Wednesday silently hissed at and Bertie audibly boo'ed was our new school. A glittering beacon of narrow-minded thinking disguised as liberalism if I'd ever seen one, I'd read up on the place. Had Jug and Reggie fill me in on what to expect and it wasn't good.
Insidious racism veiled as social work and fundraisers. Sender students being made into charity cases to make donating families and businesses feel better about themselves while they donate to political campaigns for politicians who couldn't give two shits about the working class. I could see it in the way they looked at us as we pulled up into the student parking lot and hung up the parking permit from the rearview mirror. They were sizing us up. Knew without having to ask that we were from somewhere else. Somewhere where it wasn't commonplace for sixteen year old's to have access to their parents Amex Black card.
Eyes down on the steering wheel for a moment as the girls to our right sat in their brand new canary yellow Jeep Wrangler "whispering" loudly about how dirty the truck was, Bertie reminded me it was only for a year and that chances were not everyone would be as bad as I was making them out to be in my head. Wednesday snorted a laugh from the backseat and I shot her a glance through the mirror saying "Probablemente sean monstruos chupadores de sangre." With a hard reluctant sneer, I forced myself to unbuckle. Grabbed my backpack from the backseat, slipped on my sunglasses, and heaved sigh.
"I can't believe we're actually doing this."
Shrugging her backpack onto her shoulders, Wednesday stood beside me staring at our new prison. "Just close your eyes and count to ten. It'll be over before you know it."
"Promise?"
"No."
Should have known better than to ask. But it made me laugh nonetheless. And that was the only upside here really. I wouldn't be going at this alone. I'd have Wen and Bert and a couple friends if Toni made it through the testing process since her mom made her apply too. We'd be okay. Not great. Not fine. But we'd be okay.
We'll survive.
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____________Cheryl____________
Routine on repeat like some b-rate film that used timelooping as a metaphor for repeating the past until the main character righted their wrongs, I put on my morning music playlist as I stepped into the spacious en suite bathroom that had been warmed to seventy-two degrees for me. My shampoo and conditioner never seemed to run out. My bodywash was always in supply. Shaving razors never dulled and toothpaste never emptied paste the halfway point. The only thing I was burdened with was remembering when to restock my skincare items which, even when they did run out, it was never a problem because there was nothing that couldn't be handled with a quick call.
Perfectly controlled and acclimated. It was like a dollhouse inside of a greenhouse.
Everything's monitored and privacy is a privilege.
You missed practice this morning. It was from dad, the message brightening the screen of my phone as I stepped out of the shower. We'll double up tonight's session and split it for before and after dinner.
Staring at the message, I hesitated. Could hear the small scream itching at the back of my neck like nails dragging down the nerves hidden beneath my skin.
I wanted to throw up and I hadn't eaten anything yet.
I'll have homework. I told him.
You can do it afterwards. Slacking off once leads to habitual laziness Cheryl. No excuses.
My stomach knotted. Worked itself up until the familiar aftertaste of vomit ghosted itself on my taste buds.
The cold sweats that came with it.
The dizzying nausea.
Looking at myself in my vanity mirror, I dissected the bags under my dull brown eyes. Examined my hairline to see if it had thinned anymore than what mom had pointed to over the summer when we went on vacation to Portugal. "It must be from the stress. You should sleep more darling" she had said. At least my lashes had grown back after my nervous snap over spring semester.
.
.
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*IMPORTANT NOTE!: Please do keep in mind while reading that the characters Pubert and Pugsley have nicknames that they go by and will go by for most of the story. For Pugsley, his nickname is “Lee” and for Pubert, his nickname is “Bert” or “Bertie.” Wednesday sometimes goes by “Wen” but I feel like that is a known in the Wednesday fandom but I wanted to mention it quickly for readers in the Riverdale fandom so that they’re in the loop.
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raaorqtpbpdy · 2 days
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In Memory of Mom
Danny meets a strange, Spanish-speaking ghost wandering around Casper High. His Spanish isn't great, but he's pretty sure she's looking for her daughter.
For the Prompt: Danny encounters a strange spanish-only speaking ghost looking for Paulina Sanchez. Being a first year Spanish student, he only recognizes the words "mi hija" and hesitantly leads her to Paulina. It's Día de los Muertos, but because Paulina has been trying to fit in at school, and her papa remarried and doesn't want to make his new wife uncomfortable, they've fallen out of the habit of setting up the ofrenda and marigolds, leaving their mom/wife unable to find her way home. Paulina can't see or hear her, but Phantom can [From @dreamwraith]
Disclaimer: I am white, and I do not speak Spanish. It is with deepest regret that I must admit to using Google translate for the Spanish dialogue in this fic. If you notice any errors in the Spanish, or regarding Día de Muertos (which there might very well be, though I did do my research), please feel free to correct me. I can only do my best, and always appreciate the opportunity to do better.
Read also on AO3
[Warnings for past character death, and mentions of culture death]
Danny typically liked to have more than one day to recover after fighting Fright Knight every Halloween. Not to mention the numerous other ghosts who always had to come out on that stupid holiday to cause as much trouble as possible during the period of time when the barrier between the human world and the Ghost Zone was at it's thinnest.
Of course, Danny never got more than one day, but he would have liked to.
Luckily the ghost that showed during lunch period on November second didn't seem to be causing any trouble. In fact, it didn't seem like she was powerful enough to cause trouble, even if she wanted to. No one besides Danny even seemed to notice her, which at least meant she wouldn't be able to cause any serious damage, even if she tried.
She was speaking Spanish as she walked through the halls of Casper High, and turning her head this way and that as if she was looking for something, or someone.
"¿La has visto? ¿Mi hija? ¿Dónde está mi hija? ¿La has visto?" she called out.
Now, Danny was only a first year Spanish student, and furthermore... he missed a lot of classes, so he wasn't sure exactly what she was saying, but he did recognize the words 'mi hija', 'my daughter'. The last time he'd been to Spanish class, Señora Gutierrez had been teaching family terms. Madre, padre, hermana, hermano, hija, hijo, tío, abuela, that kind of thing.
Subtly, he followed her until she walked into a hallway where there weren't any people, and then, with no one to look at him like he was crazy for talking to the air, he spoke to her.
"Excuse me, are you looking for your daughter?" Danny asked.
"¡sí mi hija!" the woman replied excitedly. "¿La conoces? ¿La has visto?"
Danny knew 'sí', that was 'yes', the most basic of basic Spanish. 'sí' and... and... okay, so Danny couldn't remember what 'no' was in Spanish, but he remembered 'sí'. Ancients, he was really gonna have to start showing up to that class more if he wanted to get the foreign language credits he needed to graduate.
"Uh... tu hija," Danny said, completely confident that he was already screwing up the grammar, "¿que es la nombre?"
"No es muy fluido en español, ¿verdad?" The ghost laughed. "Su nombre es Paulina."
"Paulina?" Danny didn't understand any of the rest of what she said, so he focused on the last bit. "Paulina Sanchez?"
"¡Sí!" she confirmed, enthusiastically. "Mi hija. Paulina Sánchez. ¿Tu la conoce?"
Danny nodded, although he'd kinda fallen off the sentence after 'sí'. "Why are you looking for her?"
"Es el Dia de Muertos," she said. "Quiero verla, pero no encuentro la ofrenda."
Danny had no idea to respond to that. The only word he recognized from all of that was 'la', but he couldn't glean a whole sentence from a single 'the', so he just looked at her with an expression that was half a forced, awkward smile and half a grimace.
"Ummmm..."
Was it safe to lead an unknown ghost to an unsuspecting human? Objectively no. Most especially not when the unsuspecting human was the girl Danny had a massive crush on. But... on the other hand, this particular ghost seemed pretty harmless, and she said she was Paulina's mother. So... maybe it was okay?
"How about I'll take you to her," Danny suggested.
The ghost that claimed to be Paulina's mother nodded excitedly and said something else in Spanish that Danny had no hope of translating. 
Danny led her to the outdoor table where the A-listers always sat, but Paulina wasn't there. After a little bit of prowling the quad, he found her, at an out of the way table no one ever sat at because the the school custodian always ignored it and it was disgusting. 
Paulina had laid her jacket over the bench to sit on, and unfolded a few paper napkins over the surface of the table. She had a handful of sugar cubes, and was poking one with a toothpick for some reason. She hadn't noticed him yet.
As much as he would have liked to go over to her as Danny Fenton and be the hero who let her talk to her mom again, he figured it would probably be suspicious if people knew he could see ghosts others couldn't. A but reluctantly, he looked around to make sure no one could see and transformed into Danny Phantom. The ghost, Paulina's mom, applauded him, like he'd just done a magic trick. To her, it might have seemed that way.
"Thanks," he said, a little sarcastically, and floated over to talk to Paulina.
"Excuse me, Paulina Sanchez?" Danny asked, as if he wasn't sure whether he knew her name or not. "There's a ghost here who wants to speak to you."
Paulina looked up and looked around, then turned back to Danny and raised a perfect eyebrow. She put down the sugar cube she was poking at, and Danny noticed that on her other side, there were two other sugar cubes sculpted into the shape of a skull.
"You mean you?" she asked. "Look, normally, I'd be thrilled, but today isn't really—"
"Oh, no, not me," Danny said. "She has long hair, wearing a nice knee-length dress.... It's kinda hard to describe ghosts in a way that makes them recognizable to people who knew them in life, 'cause colors tend to be different between life-and-death but uh... you and her have the same nose, actually. She says your her daughter? I don't speak Spanish, but I managed to figure out that much."
When he stopped talking, Pauling gave him a flat look.
"Are you messing with me?"
"No," Danny insisted. "She's not a very powerful ghost, so she can't stay in the visible range, but she's here. She wants to talk to you."
"Mamá?" Paulina asked hesitantly. "¿Estás aquí?"
"Sí, hija mía, estoy aquí," Mrs. Sanchez replied. "Estoy muy feliz de verte de nuevo."
Paulina didn't respond for a long moment, apparently waiting. Then, finally, she said, "I don't hear anything."
"I was worried you might say that," Danny said. "I'm gonna have to speak Spanish if you guys want to talk to each other, aren't I?" he sighed deeply. "Alright fine. Apologies in advance because I am gonna absolutely butcher the pronunciations."
"Hija," Mrs. Sanchez said, "volví a verte, pero no había camino para mí. ¿Por qué?"
Danny repeated the words to the best of his ability.
Paulina took a moment to parse them out, with a puzzled expression before finally saying, "Papá se volvió a casar. Su nueva esposa es gringa, así que no le hicimos un ofrenda en casa para que no se sintiera incómoda."
Danny didn't know what any of that meant, obviously, and was grateful he only had to repeat after Paulina's mom, because Paulina herself spoke Spanish very quickly and there was absolutely no way he wouldn't trip over his tongue mimicking her. 
"Pero estoy aquí, debe haber una ofrenda."
Danny mimicked her again.
Paulina looked a little embarrassed. "Sí... yo... hice uno en mi casillero para ti. No quería que no pudieras cruzar."
Her mother gasped. Danny really wished he knew what was going on.
"¿Me mostrarás?"
Paulina's expression lit up when Danny repeated that, and she stood, gathering up her jacket and her sugar cubes.
"Vamos," she said. "I mean, follow me."
She led the way through the empty halls and Danny and her mom followed.
"What were you guys talking about?" Danny asked, then immediately realized what he was asking and quickly backtracked. "I mean, never mind, it's probably personal. I was just curious. You don't have to answer that."
"No, it's okay," Paulina said. "See, my mom passed when I was seven, and every year, me and my dad set up an ofrenda for Day of the Dead with her picture so she could visit us. We moved here from Mexico when I was ten, but we kept up the tradition. 
"Last winter, though, Dad married my step-mom, and she's white, and doesn't know anything about Mexican traditions or holidays. Dad doesn't want to make her uncomfortable, so ever since they got married, we stopped celebrating most of what we used to back in Mexico, so we didn't put up an ofrenda this year, and Mom was asking why she couldn't find it, so I explained."
"Oh... that's... kinda sad," Danny said. "You just had to give up all your culture because your dad remarried?"
Paulina shrugged. "We had to give up a lot of it already, when we moved to America anyway," she said, as if that made it less sad and not more. "At least Sandra's nice, she's just... a little out of her depth sometimes."
"So... where are you taking us?"
Finally, she stopped in front of her locker and turned the dial with her combination.
"I didn't want mom to not be able to visit me, so... I sort of made my own ofrenda in my locker," Paulina explained sheepishly.
The door swung open to reveal the inside. There was a small magnetic shelf stuck on the back of the locker. On it, there was a small electric candle, some kind of orange flower, a pair of black lace gloves, and a heart-shaped locket. The locket was open and propped up so the picture inside was visible. It was the ghost Danny was trying to help.
Paulina reached in an put a few of the sculpted sugar cubes on the shelf next to the locket. The tiny sugar skulls were perfectly to scale with the tiny picture, but absolutely dwarfed by the flower.
The ghost put her hands to her heart and looked absolutely touched by the tiny display.
"Those were her favorite gloves," Paulina explained. "She always wore them when Dad took her dancing."
"What's the flower?" Danny asked.
"It's a marigold," she replied. "Cempasúchil, in Spanish. They're a traditional decoration for the ofrenda. You're also supposed to leave a trail of their petals from the grave to the ofrenda, but... Mom's grave is in Mexico, and the ofrenda is in my locker so...." 
"Ay, esto es hermoso," the ghost said. "Gracias. Amo mucho esto. Te quiero mi hija."
Danny had been to distracted to properly listen, so he wasn't sure how to repeat her words.
"Uh... she says she likes it."
The ghost gave him a look and a light slap that passed right through him.
"A lot, she likes it a lot."
"¡Y te amo!" she added insistently.
"Y te amo, she says," Danny repeated.
"Thank you, Phantom," Paulina said. She leaned forward and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "This means a lot to me."
Danny knew his cheeks were turning bright green, and he cleared his throat awkwardly to make sure his voice wouldn't crack.
"Uh, yeah, no problem," he said. "Don't mention it."
It was then that the bell rang signalling the end of lunch, and Paulina grabbed a couple of books from her locker and headed to class. Her mom followed, even though Paulina couldn't see her.
Danny had to get to class, too. He had Spanish class after lunch, and Ancients knew he didn't need to be missing any more of those.
In class, Señora Gutierrez talked about Dia de los Muertos, and for once, Danny actually sort of knew what she was talking about, thanks to Paulina. Maybe he should ask her to tutor him.
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adamsrcnan · 1 day
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i'm thinking about jean and his magnets and postcards again and it seriously breaks my heart. the way he pulled out that first postcard and his heart sank when he saw the writing was blotted out and how he desperately spread them all out trying to find any still salvageable. and then the bear missing a piece and the hope that maybe the missing bit was at the bottom of the box but there was nothing there so it would never be fixed. like they knew it was his favourite and purposely left it irreparable.
and i need to know so many things!!! like when was the first time kevin gave him each of them?? what made him think of jean and pick them up?? what had he written on the back of the postcards??
what did jean think and feel when kevin first gave him them??? did he clutch them desperately in his hand?? bc it had been so long since anyone had given him anything after he'd been snatched from his home and come to the nest empty handed and reduced to a number. did he immediately display them proudly in his room?? or did he keep them hidden at first?? afraid that riko or someone else would take them away from him.
why was the bear with the beret his favourite??? what if it's because kevin handed it to him a stupid smile on his face saying "this one reminded me of you" and jean looks at it skeptically and says "why?? bc of the beret and i'm french?" and kevin just snickers a little and jean rolls his eyes and kevin says something teasingly in french newly taught by jean and jean feels something pull at his chest and he clutches the magnet tighter and says a curt thank you but every time he looks at it he'll remember how kevin smiled at him and how for a second they felt like normal kids and not helpless caged animals. and then he gets them back and they're broken and ruined but they're the only thing he's truly owned in so long so of course he will keep then forever even if he can't bear to look at them anymore. even if the thought of them damaged and destroyed makes him sick to his stomach.
and then!! and then there's jeremy who notices when jean's gaze lingers on the magnets on cat and laila's fridge and gets all excited when he spots jean's collection and tells him they can make room on the fridge and isn't aware of the sadness jean probably has to force down when he tells him they don't stick anymore and how jeremy automatically assumes it's because they were well-worn and sentimental bc he has no idea how much they meant to jean and how they were used as a way to get to him to hurt him.
my heart hurts it really hurts thinking about it. i really hope the trojan's start gifting him some and he starts a new collection and idk maybe jeremy learns the truth about what happened to them and tries his best to fix them up again or even searches desperately to find the same ones and maybe kevin hears about it too and starts sending jean new ones whenever he travels so that one day jean will think of those old ones or even see them up on his fridge or in a drawer and he won't feel an ache in his chest anymore.
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greendragon19 · 2 days
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Ok but TK and Marjan, both trying to figure out if Buck and Eddie are dating after following them on Instagram because they both seem to exclusively only post stuff of each other and Chris. 
Like TK would see it first but it doesn't take long before Marjan is right there with him and they both become lowkey obsessed trying to figure it out.
And then season 7 happens
-
TK - who the fucks Marisole?
Marjan - no clue why?
TK - she just tagged Diaz in her story, I guess they're moving in together
Marjan pulling up Instagram - when, I've literally never seen him post anything about her before
TK - I know, it's weird right.
Marjan - really weird
-
TK - Marj have you seen?
Marjan - seen what?
TK - Buckley took a guy to his sisters wedding, I knew he was flirting with me
Majan - as in some guy that's not Diaz?
TK - yeah he's called Tommy
Marjan having already pulled up Tommy's profile - wow…
TK - he's hot right
Majan - yeah but that's not what I meant have you been on his profile
TK - no I just saw the pictures from the wedding why?
Marjan - he also a firefighter, he's ex army and he seems to be into basketball, cars and Muay thai
TK - So Buckley is dating a clone of Diaz
Marjan - certainly looks that way
Like an hour later 
TK - do you think we should tell him?
Majan - Buckley? You know I was thinking the same thing. Like we should just drop him a quick dm or something
TK - I don't know it feels like the kind of thing you should call someone about
Majan - Wait, you got his number when he was flirting with you during the wildfires?
TK - unfortunately not
Marjan - damn, you think you could convince Carlos to find his number in the police database? 
TK - If I explain it's for the grater good maybe
Paul who has been listening to these two idiots speculate for the past few years - No no no, you absolutely can not do that!
TK - but it's for love
Paul - you're going to what call this guy up and and be like hey you remember when we met briefly in Texas during the wildfires well me and my friend have been insta stalking you and think your in love with you best friend
Marjan - well it sounds crazy when you say it like that
Paul - you would be lucky if they don't file restraining orders against you for stalking. Look, you don't think I clocked them both during the whole five minutes I spent with the two of them, of course I did but you can't just tell people how they feel either they will figure it out on their own or they won't. But whichever it is you have to stay out of it. 
TK & Marjan pouting - fine
TK once Paul is out of earshot - what if we dm Diaz?
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butmakeitgayblog · 2 days
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So we know CI Clarke like to nibble nibble on Lexa whenever wherever. But are there any instances where she’s literally latched on her coz of something her wife did or say that’s just too adorable?
There's plenty of times in their day to day where Lexa is simply too cute, too gorgeous for words and Clarke quite literally just wants to eat her up. Her secret little pair of reading glasses or the way she smacks her lips in her sleep, the way she gets broody and tucks her face into Clarke's neck when she isn't feeling well. The way she can volley between curtious and so fucking rude it'd make your eyes water, the way she scrunches her nose up at something she finds so tacky she can't even begin to contain herself.
There's just so many shades of Lexa, and each one is perfectly wonderful, and extremely biteable 😌
But also, the thing with Lexa is that she's not a particularly outwardly vocal person about her feelings. She's not a partner who says "I love you" often, because she prefers to show it in her actions. Words are too easy to fake. And she's not the kind of person who uses pet names in a genuine sense (beyond Darling) very often, because she loves Clarke's name. The sound of it, the taste of it, the way it makes her feel knowing that name and that girl belong to her, every bit as much as she belongs to it. So she uses it.
So when it comes to Lexa, it's always in the quiet moments that Clarke has learned to listen for the big things. To recognize big moments that really show all the thoughts and feelings that have sat tidy behind the veil of Lexa's carefully crafted indifference.
Because those are the moments when Lexa will turn to her and say something that just... knocks the absolute fucking wind out of her. A random Saturday morning that feels so mundane her past self would cry in agony just at the thought of it, silently drinking their coffees and sharing pain au chocolat that the cook made fresh that morning. Reading or scrolling their phones while ignoring each other's incessant yawning and absently running hands along each other's back, still stiff from sleep.
Those are always the times when Lexa will just let the veil drop to Clarke's "What are you thinking?" with a thoughtful and slowly hummed, "That I'm happy... That... if one day I had no memory of my life, I'd never want to forget this. I think I'd be fine not remembering one single other thing about myself. Except you. And us. Just like this... I'd want you to always tell me stories about this."
It's bizarre and seemingly out of nowhere, but that's why it's so perfectly Lexa in that in way, and truthfully, how is Clarke expected to do anything other than physically attack her wife with nibbles, bites, and kisses that leave the kind of marks that make sure she wont forget? Can't forget. At least not for the rest of the day.
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sinner-sunflower · 2 days
Text
P.2 HH Lucifer-centric AU 13/?
STORY 1, PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 14
Luci is the older sib among the Sins but he's the youngest among the Archangels.
I guess technically, he's the suffering middle child.
If y'all see a mention baby bro or little brother in the Prequel, pretend like you didn't see it ;laksldakl;
-----------------------------------------------
Perhaps Lucifer should've requested a 1 visitor per visit rule just like he should've expected that he's going to get tackled and suffocated in physical affection by the Sins and Charlie as soon as Belphegor opened the door.
Not that he doesn't like the hugs but he's just one tiny guy and he's pretty sure he's about to be buried alive under these giants.
Thank fuck for Belphegor for prying them off of him before he actually suffocated.
Belphegor: What did I say?! What did I just say?! What are you all? Children?!
A gasp and a coughing fit later, he finally calmed down enough to get his breathing steady. He thanks Alastor for the water, taking huge sips to fix his throat.
'Not to self: don't get buried alive. It's not a fun experience.'
He looks over at the now kneeling Charlie and Sins, head bowed as the Sin of Sloth relentlessly scolds them.
Belphegor: -powers in Hell and you can't follow one simple rule? May I remind you all what happens if I'm disobeyed while I'm treating someone?
All: Visiting rights will be stripped off.
Belphegor: That's right. And I am not above putting a ward on any of you to make it stay that way.
Never mess with Dr. Belphegor. As much as Lucifer is amused, he takes pity on his kids (his kids!) and speaks up to save them from the doctor's wrath.
Lucifer: I think they get it, Bel.
The kneeling demons cower as Belphegor sends them one last glare before huffing and went to typing something in her tablet again.
Beelzebub: Sorry for getting carried away, babe. We just got scared.
Asmodeus: Charlie's call really scared us. Did something happen in Heaven?
Satan: Tell me if that bastard Michael did this, I'll go to Heaven myself and beat his ass! In fact, I'm going over there right now. Open a portal.
Leviathan: Christ, Satan. Can you do one minute without thinking of doing something impulsive?
Satan: Don't say that name here! And fuck you! You're one to talk. Which one of us almost obliterated their ring in anger earlier, huh??
Lucifer: Wha- Levi??
Leviathan: I have no idea what you're talking about.
Mammon: Wait, is that why the elevator took so fuckin long to work? I thought I was gonna be stuck there foreva!
Charlie: At least you're all here now!
Charlie's wholesome sentiment made her aunts and uncles coo, wholeheartedly agreeing with her.
Lucifer: My duckie is right. Even though I said I was fine, you all still came for me. I'm starting to feel bad about making you all rush here every time I get hurt.
Satan: Don't you dare. No one is forcing us to be here.
Beelzebub: Right! Plus you always did the same for us.
He remembers those moments. When the rings formed and the Sins grew enough to move and handle them on their own, he was pretty lonely. Sure, he had Lilith, but children brought a different kind of joy with their company.
Plus, he loved indulging in others and all the children wanted was his attention, which he was always so happy to give.
The last person he would've thought to call him for help first was, believe it or not, Leviathan.
Levi had always presented himself as independent, acting like he's not as young as he was. Lucifer saw the aquatic demon's admiration for him, often mimicking how he talks, walks, and even dresses.
Lilith says it's envy (Because what else could it be, Luci? Isn't he the Sin of Envy?) but Lucifer knows better. He knows that Leviathan only looks at him in admiration. He looks at him like he hung the stars. Like Lucifer means something. Like he deserves to be looked at that way.
He doesn't but he's not going to tell young Leviathan that.
Anyway, Levi couldn't get the raging storms of Envy under control despite trying so hard. He was crying, begging Lucifer to believe that he did everything he could but nothing was working.
So he did what every good sibling/pseudo-father wouldo.
He drops everything and headed straight to Envy. In fact, he ran so fast he forgot to tell Lilith he was leaving.
Instead of fixing the situation himself, Lucifer chose that moment to teach Leviathan. He stayed in Envy until the other got it and not once did he berate Levi for not knowing something that wasn't even taught. It was his fault after all that Levi couldn't control it as he should've known that it doesn't come to everyone that easily.
The little scolding he got from Lilith when he came home super late was worth seeing a proud face on little Levi.
Lucifer: And I always will.
When it doesn't look like they're leaving him anytime soon, he figures he could just tell them now. He sat up a little straighter and internally braces himself for the expected uproar.
Lucifer: Heaven is on the verge of a civil war.
He winces. 'Way to rip off the bandaid, Lucifer.'
The room halted. They stared at him as they try to comprehend what he said just said. Then all at once, everyone bursts into screaming and panic, asking questions at him, at each other, at no one, at everyone. It was chaos and Lucifer can feel something rumble inside him. He figures Roo is enjoying all this unfold.
To be fair, he should've thought better than to say something like that out of the blue.
Lucifer: Sorry from dropping a bomb like that suddenly.
Satan: A bomb???
Mammon: Mate, that's a fuckin' nuclear one if I know one! The fuck you mean a war??
Lucifer: A civil war.
Charlie: What? How are we roped in it?? It's not because of the last extermination right?
Belphegor: You couldn't have told us this the moment you arrived?
Satan: Are we involved? Is that why Michael shot a freakin' laser through the sky??
Lucifer: No but-
Beelzebub: Oh god.
Lucifer: Guys, if you just-
Leviathan: Ozzie, how is our forces? Do you think we have enough manpower?
Lucifer: Guys-
Asmodeus: If it's only our fighting forces, then no. I'm sure a lot of demons would be willing to fight. Plus we have the firepower.
Lucifer: I-
Belphegor: Do we even know if angelic weapons would harm a higher ranked angel?
Oh for fucks-
Lucifer: Ê̵̡̟͔͉̱͓͓̪̝̫͙͇̞͛̓͐͒͒̎͒̋͘Ǹ̶̛͙̲̮͓͈̳̗̟̣̊̍͋́̇̀̋̐́̚̕͜O̷͇͔̒̇͋́͋́̓́͂́͆͋̅͘U̴̡̙̫͕̞̩͎̭̤̤͙̠̓̐̊̚͜G̵͖͇̘̘̩̟̗̠̬̐̈́͛́̾̈́̾̍́̈́̏͠͝H̶̢̬͉̯̞͇̯͈͙̜̬͚̟͙̊̈́͋͂̂̾̒̅̈́̆͊͗͂̚͝.̷̧͇͔͖̜̳̲̪̤͇̇͊͑̋͛̾̓͜͜
.
.
.
The room rattles from his voice. He stop his horns and halo from coming out. Lucifer can't see it but everyone else is staring at him in abject horror as his skin turned into a dark, glitchy mess.
He calms himself by taking in deep breathes until the fire in his mouth extinguishes.
Lucifer: Can I speak now?
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My 4th shot of Espresso~~~~Alastor x Reader
Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Sinners being sinners, Anxietyy descriptors, some swear words, high amounts of caffeine consumption, alcohol consumption
Type: Story ( I had no control again and I made it so long)
Word Count: 6944
Playlist: Espresso- Sabrina Carpenter
Prompt: The reader was a singer in her past life, well-known in the human world for her sweet, sultry voice before her untimely death. The people of the overworld would say she was like a shot of espresso to your system. Now, in Pentagram City, a particular radio demon can't help but seek out his next caffeine high.
Notes: I will not lie to everyone; I am a hardcore Sabrina Carpenter fan. She is one of the few artists outside my regular music routine. She has a grip on me and my reptile brain.
Her song Espresso got me thinking of one Radio Demon specifically. The 1900s was a big time for coffee production (in the US, where I am from), mainly due to Prohibition, and it just so happens that right around the 1920s, espresso machines were introduced heavily in America. The FDA also recommends not going over 6 shots of Espresso, but many health professionals say not to go over 3 shots, so I will meet in the middle here.
My 4th shot of Espresso~~~~Alastor x Reader
The day you died was tragic indeed for all parties involved. Your deranged stalker who killed you now serves life in prison, your fans continue to broadcast your music regularly, crying their eyes out, and your record label is on the hunt for the next ‘Hit’ girl. The only problem was you were a one-of-a-kind, naturally gifted with vocal cords, so sweet and sultry everyone fell for you. Your varying music genres make you an addiction to almost any music fanatic. You were the singer of your time. 
How did you keep that title for so long? Simply put, due to becoming the designated ‘shot of espresso everyone needs to wake up and have a good day,’ your fans were less than kind to any new artists or rising stars. You were an Angle, sweet inside and out, never letting your fame get to your head. However, many scandals and theories have been made that people can never surpass you because you sold your soul or hired people to knock down your competition. None of this was true, though. You were simply a bystander to your fan's actions, not wanting to seem unthankful for all the support that got you there.
Then it happened: your death. One minute, you were walking to the coffee shop by your apartment in the city when a strange man started yelling at you. Of course, the one day you don’t have a bodyguard leave with you, the paparazzi show up. If only that man were a paparazzi; as he got closer, you noticed the lack of camera, the deranged look in his eyes, and the shirt he wore saying, ‘Y/N be my wife.’ All you could think of doing at that moment was trying to make some distance between you and him, seeing as the streets were barren since it was late at night. Why did your best music writing have to happen late at night? Running as fast as you could, the man grew angry, and then bam, next thing you know, you wake up on the streets of a city, not your city; no, this was too red.
As you stood up from your prone position, you glanced at a window only to see not you standing there; well, it was you. It looked like you, but it also didn't look like you. Soft tan skin, chocolate brown hair, Hazel eyes, and a white, tan, and brown outfit adorned your body. You looked like the embodiment of the coffee you would drink at your go-to coffee spot. If only you hadn’t gone there that night. Maybe you would be your normal (E/c), (H/c), (S/c) self. 
Thinking hard about everything that happened, you remember being chased, him yelling obscenities at you, being shoved to the ground, something warm on your face, then a loud bang noise. What was that bang? You only remember the warm, sticky feeling, probably blood from hitting your head on the curb, then you fought a bit, squirming around; the bang must have been a concealed weapon of your assailant's choice. Jeeze, people are crazy…Oh fuck, your dead. You died. Gone. A memory. As this realization came to you, you began walking the streets of this new city.
All the inhabitants of this place looked like those demons you would see on TV or even read about in books. Looking up at the horizon, you see a large building with a flashing sign called the “Hazbin Hotel,” a giant ball to the left that looked like it had wings on it, and above you, a giant pentagram. The pieces finally clicked: you were in Hell, but why you were the sweetest human alive, even fame, didn’t get to you. Maybe Heaven reads tabloids and assumes you did participate in the fate of many of your rivals or that they thought you were a greedy pop star. Sighing softly, you turn your back on the hotel and make your way to the first place that helped you start up in the human world: a cheap manager at a cheap venue. 
~~~Years Later~~~
Years had passed since Mimzy and her crew had taken you in. She was the only demon in Pentagram City that didn’t ask for your soul immediately. Course, as you found out yourself, it’s because her soul, too, was taken from her. Meeting Mimzy was a breath of fresh air; she reminded you of your grandmother and all the pictures you saw of her singing and dancing at nightclubs when she was your age. Mimzy took you under her wing, gave you a palace to sing your sweet new music, and protected you with her clientele. Mimzy did have a habit of getting herself into some deep shit, though. Nothing you couldn’t help with, see as your popularity in Pentagram City grew, so did your powers. Some even compared you to Lilith when she was still around, a voice to conjoin the masses. You were no Lilith; you were simply ‘Y/N,’ so you compromised for a reprise of your old title: ‘ A shot of espresso to keep you going.’ Honestly, who knew demons still partook in human drinks and activities? 
As you began preparing for your next act at Mimzy’s club, said woman entered your dressing room. “Doll, oh, look at you so gorgeous. You're not as gorgeous as me, but you're still amazing. I have big news for ya’ Come and sit with me, deary.” Following Mimzy’s orders, you went to the small sofa in your Dressing Room and sat with her. “What is it, Mimz? Did you get in more trouble with those loan sharks? I told you they are dangerous; this owner of your soul is a real slow ass seeing as I have to save their ‘precious’ soul over and over again.” 
Mimzy just laughed, waving her hand in your face, resituating herself to look you in the eye before speaking again: " Don't worry about that doll. Of course, I would keep that opinion to yourself. He’s back and probably can hear everything around us. Speaking of which, that is why I came here. My dear friend Alastor and the princess of hell are coming to visit our lovely establishment. Make sure to knock their socks off!” 
You nodded softly to Mimzy, laughing at her; she was a firecracker of energy—a troublemaker, yes, but a firecracker of energy. Mimzy quickly excused herself, saying she needed to be ready to meet her guests and introduce the acts for the night. You sighed softly, returning to double-check your makeup and clothes again. 
Looking like a gorgeous espresso martini, as Mimzy calls it, you stood center stage, waiting for the curtain to rise. You hear Mimzy’s tiny heels hitting the stage and some mic feedback. “Ladies and gentlemen, I bring you our star of the stage, your shot of espresso to boost you through hard times, our dame so beautiful and sweet, Y/N.” Cheers erupted in the audience as the curtain rose and a soft amber spotlight landed on you. 
Looking out into the audience, you hesitated for a minute. A handsome man in a red suit sat in the center of the tables. He looked like a deer, not the oddest thing you have seen in the city. The way he was looking at you, though, was intense. You felt the need to cringe and back away like his power exceeded that of an average Sinner. He looked dominating, powerful, and scary even though he had a giant smile plastered on his face. Next to him sat a young-looking girl with big red cheeks. She looked so happy to be present at this event. Her blonde hair was pulled into a bun on her head, with a black crown adoring her. Your boss, Mimzy, was on the other side of the smiling demon, giving you a big thumbs up. 
You took a deep breath when the song started to play on the drums and guitar behind you. You began to sing the song that had never been released to the public before you died. This was an important night for Mimzy, so why not go all out? As you began to sing, the nerves washed off of you, and you started to do your choreography, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of deep red eyes following your every move. As the song ended, you stopped center stage again, a soft, elegant smile gracing your face. “ Thank you so much, everyone. That was called Espresso, and I do hope you all enjoyed it. I will freshen up; please enjoy our band as they play some classic and new hits throughout the ages.” As you bowed and motioned to the band, they began to play. You walked off the stage, quickly stopping at your dressing room before heading to the floor and meeting the others at their table. 
You finally heard this mysterious, powerful demon's voice as you approached the table. “I never took you as the kind to allow other music in your establishment, Mimzy. Weren’t you also one always found of our time's music.” Mimzy just laughed, slapping the demon's arm. Stopping behind the group, you noticed the demon's ears pull back; he knew you were there, good. You cleared your throat for the others and spoke gently, “I’m sorry. Was there a problem with my song, sir? I didn't realize I would be in the presence of a music critic in hell.” 
The tension in the club could be cut with a knife as the demon let out a soft laugh and turned to view you. The young girl beside him was visibly panicking while Mimzy held a laugh back. The demon stood, bowing slightly and extending his hand to you. “Well, dear Y/N, it's nice to meet you. My name is Alastor the Radio Demon, and if you would like to call me whatever it was, you just made music by all means; I must be your critic.” That smile on his face never faltered. It stayed plastered there, if not a little more strained. Gently taking Alastors hand, you curtsied for him and stood straight and tall again, preparing to speak. “Well, Mr. Alastor, you don't seem to have good music taste, seeing as I am a prized singer in hell.” The two of you stared intensely at one another, sparks flying between your eyes. Mimzy cleared her throat, “ Y/N, this is Alastor, as he mentioned, the demon that owns my soul; he also runs the Hazbin Hotel with Miss Charlie Morningstar here.” 
You let go of Alastors hand, breaking eye contact first to greet the young girl. Charlie was the polar opposite of ‘Mr. Music Critic’. She compliments you and tells you how you reminded her of her mother, who has been missing for seven years. Keeping conversation with Charlie, Alastor, and Mimzy began to speak on the side. “Isn’t she interesting, Alastor? She had to have been powerful even in her human form. She may not be your level of scary, but she is something. When I found her within a month, Valentino had come to claim her and ask for her soul; she whooped him physically and mentally; she's quick-witted and cunning.” Alastor nodded knowingly; this could be advantageous to him. 
“Mimzy darling, why have you not sold her off yet? Could make a pretty penny off of her, maybe enough to pay me back for your soul.” Alastor stared at you intently. He couldn’t deny you were attractive in a beauty standard since, and the fact you weren’t afraid of him even if he dominated you in power was intriguing. Mimzy slapped Alastor’s shoulder, “She's like a daughter to me; she's sweet, smart, and a helluva singer. Why would I risk losing business here selling her off to the Vees or any other overlord.”
Tuning into Mimzy’s and Alastor's conversation, you turned to look at the Radio Demon in the eyes once more. “She also can’t get rid of me due to the fact I save her ass more so than you ever have or will.” The authority in your voice even frightened you. The smile on Alastors face tightened more, changing from boredom to interest. “Oh, is that so doll? You save my property for me.” You nod curtly to the demon holding his gaze. The smile slowly morphed into a smirk. Charlie chimes in, “Well, guys, it looks like we have overstayed our welcome; Y/N, you were phenomenal. Please let me know whenever you have your next performance. You have my number!” You nod softly to the cheerful girl before returning to the Radio Demon. 
As you all begin to stand from your seats, Alastor disappears and reappears at your side. “Ms. Y/N, it seems I have a business proposition for you. As Charlie loved your performance so much and I seem to have bad taste in music, how about we strike a deal? You come to the hotel and live there for free; you can sing once a week, and if you can pull in some more sinners looking to be redeemed, I will admit you have the better music. I will also allow you to broadcast your music on my radio.” You stared at the demon timidly, but no one made a deal that didn’t involve losing their soul. You brace yourself for the answer and speak purposefully, “What is it for you if I lose?” Alastor smiled at you menacingly, “I get your soul, of course, and you will do my bidding.” 
You hesitated, contorting your face slightly; losing your soul was not something you wanted to happen; no one did. You looked between Alastor and Mimzy rapidly, a slight panic overcoming you. As you go to speak, Charlie takes your place, “ Alright, Alastor, enough scaring people; we are leaving now. Let's go.” Alastor looked at Charlie before looking back at you. He nods slightly before saying, “I will return in the morning. Have your decision ready.” With that said, the duo left the club.
The night continued like normal; you sang a couple more songs and mulled over the conversation. You won't lie even if you were sweet on earth. Being here in hell made you a lot more prideful than when you were alive. Had someone offered such a stupid bet in the human world, you would politely decline, move on, and let your fans handle them. Alastor, though, something about him and this stupid condescending attitude made your blood boil. As the night closed, you came up with your decision. You went to your dressing room and began to pack a bag for the morning. You were so wrapped in your thoughts hating that stupid Radio Demon that you didn't hear Mimzy walk in. As you finished packing and turned around, Mimzy sat on your couch, a frown on her face. Setting everything down, you walked over to her and sat with her. 
Mimzy looked at you softly, her regular, boisterous exterior fading as her calmer interior emerged. “Y/N, you don’t have to do this. I shouldn’t have done this. I only invited them to show Al how much better I was doing even after his absence. I didn���t expect him to bargain your soul with him.” You gently grabbed Mimzy's hand and looked at her, “Mimz, I got this. I am one of the best singers in hell. I will not lose my soul, and maybe I can bargain him into freeing your soul-” Before you could finish your thought, Mimzy stood up, tears in her eyes, “NO Y/N! You-You don't understand; Alastor is a notorious and powerful demon. He won’t give up mine or your soul. There is always an underlying bargain in his deals.” You looked up at Mimzy. She had never yelled at you like that before, even after ruining her favorite pink dress. Mimzy sat down gently and hugged you close before letting go. “Let me tell you Al’s story, the best I know of it anyway.” 
Even after hearing Mimzy’s story, you are set on proving yourself. Why did you feel the need to? You could only chalk it up to wanting to wipe that stupid smile off the demon's face. You stood outside the entrance of Mimzy’s club, holding her hand. “Y/N, you don't have to do this. Just ignore him.” You shook your head at Mimzy before responding. “I can do this, Mimzy. Trust me. You know where I am if you ever need me.” She nods somberly and hugs you close. The Radio Demon appears out of the shadows as you two part ways. “Hello ladies, Y/N, Mimzy, what a touching display of affection. Are you ready to strike our deal, Y/N?” You nod gently, extending your hand to the demon. With a soft chuckle, he grabbed your hand. Greenlight erupted all around you. Shadows and relic symbols appeared around you as the deal was bound. As the green lights faded, you were sucked into the shadows with Alastor and taken to a Hotel on the other side of Pentagram City. 
The hotel was lovely, nothing too overwhelming like when you were still alive. It was quaint and adorable. You could tell that Charlie put her heart into the place. Walking through the entrance to your left, you notice a bar with a black and grey cat sitting there drinking. Taking the initiative and having the desire to start already pissing the Radio Demon off, you walked away to greet the cat. “Hello, there one espresso martini, please; my name is Y/N, and I’m going to be a new resident and singer for the hotel.” Hearing your words, the cat looked up at you, practically spitting his whiskey onto the bar before collecting himself and cleaning up. In a gruff voice, he responded, “Never thought I would see the day we got more willing redeemers. Thought Sir Pentious would be our only one.” 
You laughed, covering your mouth politely as the cat put your drink before you. As he finished wiping the bar down, Alastor appeared behind you. “Ahhhh, good friend, you have met our new resident artist. Y/N, this is Husk or Husker, as some patrons call him.” You nodded politely to the cat demon, sipping your drink. Alastor sat next to you, staring the cat down. He acted like it was a sin that Husk even talked to you. As you finished your glass, a spider demon walked into the building, groaning about his day at work, sitting on your other side, and ordering a straight martini.
As he rose his head up, looking to great Alastor, he saw you. “WOAH toots, who are ya’ you gorgeous? I didn’t know another pretty thing like me walked these streets.” You smiled sweetly at the spider demon, sticking your hand out to shake his hand. You liked him. He had spunk. “My name is Y/N, and I am the new resident singer of this joint.” Silence filled the room; the spider demon's eyes widened. Looking at him confused, you pulled your hand back and awkwardly sat there. Behind you, Alastors voice rang, “Yes, dear flamboyant friend, that Y/N, the one who took Valentino down a few pegs before he became part of the Vees.” 
The spider's smile grew ten times as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, “Toots, let's be best friends, deal. My name is Angel Dust. It's a pleasure to meet you.” You laughed softly, connecting that this Angel Dust might be the soul of that awful month. “Deal, I need new friends now that I am out of Mimzys club.” Husker dropped his bottle, causing a shattering noise as he turned to stare down Alastor. “You were Mimzy’s singer; what are you doing here?” Alastor stared down Husker, the ever-growing smile present on his face as power exuded off of him. “Simple Husk, can’t you tell she's in a deal with me.” The room went silent as you looked down at your hands. Based on everyone's reactions, you soon realized you were fucked. 
The tension was thick between the three of you, Angel silent, not daring to interfere in a soul contract, Husker glaring at Alastor, and the Radio Demon eating up everyones distrust. What felt like hours passing was only a few minutes when Charlie and another woman appeared walking down the stairs. “I am telling you, Vaggie, I heard a new voice.” Your eyes connected with Charlie when she let out an excited squeal, barreling down to you. You laughed softly, happy the tension was broken, and hugged the excited girl back. “Oh my goodness, you came here! Are you trying to be redeemed? I am so excited! Vaggie, this is the singer I told you about!” You looked at the other girl and waved at her. When Alastor stood, she nodded back, getting ready to speak to you; however, Alastor had removed Charlie from your embrace. “Sorry, dear Charlie, but Y/N is part of my deal. She will be a new singer for the hotel, as Husk is the bartender, and Niffty the cleaner.” 
As if hearing her name, a tiny, child-looking demon crawled from the depths of somewhere and sat on Alastors shoulder. “Wowie lady, you must sing well for Alastor to vouch for you. You aren’t no bad boy, but you look like you could be tough.” You stood wide-eyed in shock at the minor demon that seemed to spawn into existence. Alastor stood beside you, shooing Niffty off him and placing a firm hand on your shoulder. “Alright, dear Y/N, why don’t I show you to the drawing room where you will perform? You have three days before your big performance.” Everyone looked at the hand placed on your shoulder, confusion laced on their faces. Was Alastor, not a touchy person? All you’ve known of this man was for him to be touching you in some dominating way. You nodded briefly, following the demon to the drawing room. 
You had been practicing hard for the last three days. You met Sir Pentious while in the middle of a practice performance. He was apparently your biggest fan and regularly played your music in his blimp. You signed some autographs for him and told him he was welcome to come and watch whenever he felt like it. Of course, he never did come back while you were practicing. Angel Dust said Alastor frightened the snake demon, who was “getting too close to you and distracting you.” This only confused you: why is Alastor so against any demon getting close to you except for the striking spider demon? Two, why does he care if you get distracted? Shouldn’t he want you to lose so he can keep your soul? These thoughts plagued your mind every day as you practiced. You decided to do a four-song set, your three most popular songs and the new one you debuted at Mimzys place before you left, as a nod back to your old home. 
Throughout your days here, you have noticed so many odd quirks about these residents, but nothing too crazy. I mean, it is hell after all. Angel Dust was a famed porn star for Valentino; Husker used to gamble at the high-end casino in town; Nifty liked cock roaches; Charlie and Vaggie were fighting with Heaven about Sinners being redeemed. Even Sir Pentious had a past saying he tried to kill Alastor, which made you laugh and congratulate the snake demon. The only major oddball was Alastor; every resident said he was acting different, more pompous, possessive, and aggressive. Before you showed up in his life, he was just a condescending asshole who smiled all the time and had a wicked sarcasm streak. 
What made you special? You have been nothing but mean to this man, trying to get a rise out of him and knock him down a few pegs. The main consense from every resident after they learned of your deal is to be careful; he's a master manipulator. The tidbits of information you learned of Alastor were as follows: he hosted a radio show that, up until seven years ago, played screams of his victims; he still very much missed the 1920s; Jazz was his favorite music, makes sense why he hated your pop music, and lastly like any true child of the bayou he enjoyed his coffee, his coffee with three shots of espresso. No wonder the man was wired 24/7. 
Alastor was also not a touchy man; the only person any resident had seen him touch so constantly was you. Why? No one knows the answer; Angel Dust has his theories that he “has the hots for ya toots.” You couldn’t help but laugh at that notion. The pompous, rude, robust, attractive, funny, charismatic Deer Demon didn't have a thing for you. Okay, yes, you have a thing for him, though; what changed in the three days of getting close to him and everyone else? You have no real idea; you only know that the day you realized you had more than aggressive feelings for him was two nights ago.
~~~Flashback~~~
You had been summoned to the famed radio tower by Alastor. He had a treat for you, as he put it. Following Niffty's instructions, you ended up before the radio demon's door. Now you heard the rumors already he killed and broadcasted in his tower. Did your deal mean nothing? Was it a ruse to get rid of someone with a little bit of power? You must have been standing there for too long in your thoughts because before you knew it, Alastor had opened the door for you. “Ah, dear Y/N, come on in. We have a broadcast to get to.” You nodded gently and followed him inside. 
Taking your place beside Alastor, you notice how cluttered his desk is. You stifle a laugh; the thought of the infamous radio demon who looked so clean and polished having anything untidy amused you. You see Alastor pouring his regular coffee as you turn to the small end table with some chairs. “Alastor, I never would have taken you for a coffee drinker. You seem more refined to like English teas or other sophisticated drinks.”
Alastor just looked at you with a small, unstrained smile. As he finished his drink and poured you one, he said, “Nonsense dear Y/N coffee is highly sophisticated; Louisiana was a large export of coffee grounds we lived for this drink. Coffee was the way to go when we needed to work long hours tending to fields or making ends meet at factories.” You nodded gently, amazed that this man remembered his life so well after so long. While you sat and drank your coffee, Alastor got up to prepare the broadcast. While he was busy, you took this time to examine the Deer Demon in more detail. 
He was handsome; his fringe was odd but suited him well, the unforced smile looked attractive, and his suit was perfectly fitted, leaving just enough imagination about what lay underneath. As you caught yourself having this thought, you shook your head, setting your cup down violently. Alastor turned to look at you, his smile still soft but a questioning look in his eyes. You coughed softly into your napkin and stood to meet Alastor at his desk before speaking. “So Al, what is it you need of me.” His reaction to the nickname did not go unnoticed.
Now, the original reason you decided to use the nickname he hated was to get under his skin, but instead of doing that, he smiled at you wider. Gently, he placed a microphone and headphones in your hand. You looked up at him with a curious gaze. “I believe that for people to know you are here at the hotel and will sing, they need a sample. We may have a deal on the line, but I am no cheater.” You nodded, smiling at him; maybe he wasn’t so bad. As the broadcast started, though, the same pompous ass hole came out. Boasting about being missed and how he can't wait to give Sinners of hell an actual broadcast, he introduced you. “Now, my dear patrons, I introduce Y/N. Some of you may know her and even love her, but tonight she will be singing a song for you, a taste into her performance that will be happening here at the Hazbin Hotel in two days.” 
You gripped the microphone and started singing one of your more classic songs. Only the people at Mimzys club that night had heard the new song, and you didn't want to ruin the surprise you had been working on for your concert. As you sang, you couldn’t help but notice the red eyes boring into you. Was Alastor checking you out? No, of course not. This is just to even out the deal. However, how his eyes softened and he hummed gently to your tune made your heart flutter. He sure learned one of your songs for someone who hated your music. 
As you finished your part in his broadcast, Alastor played some old-time Jazz, muting the mics before leading you out the door. You said your goodnights and began to walk away when Alastor grabbed your arm. You turned to look at him, a sweet, innocent look in your eyes; a part of you wanted him to kiss you right there. However, you could see his conflict. After a few seconds of staring at one another, Alastor let go of your arm and cleared his throat, “Good night, Y/N. Be prepared for our deal.” You nodded, and before you could ask him what was wrong, the door was closed and locked in your face.
~~~Present Day~~~
The day you had finally come for your concert. You had spent most of the day resting and preparing for the show. It had been over a week since your last live performance. You took your time getting prepared, wanting everything to be perfect. You double-checked your hair outfit and even dabbed on an old perfume you found while shopping with Angel. Did you buy this specific sent because it was trendy in the 1920s? No, of course not. You weren't trying to impress the famed Radio Demon during your performance tonight. It finally dawned on you as you did your last touches. You either become soulless tonight or beat the Radio Demon. A shiver ran down your back; you were so caught up in falling for the man that you forgot he was ruthless and owned you now. It's not that you minded the owning part; you minded the soulless part. 
A soft knock was heard at your door, and you released a quiet “come in.” As you turned from your vanity to see who had entered, before you stood, Mimzy, you ran to your mentor and hugged her close. “You came, you came. I thought you would be too mad at me to come.” Mimzy slapped your shoulder gently before speaking. “When have I missed one of your shows since you started working for me? Plus, Alastor personally invited me and gave me a front seat. I don’t know if it's to torment me that he's going to take your soul or if mister Deer likes you.” Mimzy began nudging your side. You stifled an almost forced laugh, your cheeks growing warm. “Mimzy, you need to lay off the alcohol. That is an absurd statement. Alastor doesn’t like me.” She gave you a knowing look. “You may think he doesn’t like you, but I can tell you sure like him.” You looked away at the floor.
Mimzy gave you a few more encouraging words before returning to the drawing room. According to Mimzy, there was already a large number of people filling the place. Charlie must be going nuts trying to recruit people. With a final glance in the mirror, you began to walk to your call point. Instead of your average tan and brown ensemble, you wore an elegant blood-red dress for tonight's performance. One that just so happened to be in your closet this morning when you started to get ready. You did your hair up and let some pieces frame your face, your makeup soft and subtle, giving you a sweet, angelic look.
Charlie introduced you to the crowd; as you took center stage and waited for everyone to calm down, you began your set. You looked out to the crowd like you did all those nights ago, and sitting right in front of you were your new friends and him. He didn’t look smug or dominating this time. No, this time, he looked calm and compassionate. Even if you looked hard enough, it almost looked like he was enjoying himself. He wore a suit practically identical to your dress in color. You promoted the hotel between each song as you sang. Your first three songs went perfectly, keeping the crowd entertained to the fullest as you always did. Once your last song died down, the crowd erupted. 
A slow interlude played as you spoke softly: "I wrote this last song a long time ago when I was alive. I have only sung this song once at Mimzy Speakeasy, so if you were one of the lucky few to hear it, please feel free to sing along and enjoy it to the fullest this time.” You smiled softly before landing your eyes on Alastor. You don’t know what possessed you to sing this song, looking directly at him, but you couldn’t help it. You felt compelled, too. As the begging notes to Espresso started playing, a small group of people cheered, including Charlie. 
You began your normal choreography and sang your heart out, never taking your eyes off of Alastor for long, and from what you saw, he never took his eyes off of you for long, either. Singing your heart out as you finished the outro of the song you posed, letting the cheers and lights fade out. Charlie rushed to the stage and informed everyone about food, refreshments, and signing up to join the hotel. You, however, hid behind the curtains, blushing. Why was he looking at you so intently? Why were you suddenly so shy and concerned you sang poorly? You always had confidence in your singing.
Collecting yourself, you quickly refreshed your look in the bathroom before joining the after/recruiting party. As you were going down the hotel hall to get to the main part of the drawing room, an uneasy feeling hit you. An anxious, familiar feeling. You turn your head, and down the hall, you see a man making his way towards you. You turn around and keep walking, ignoring his shouts as you try to beeline for the entryway. You are panting at this point, memories of your death coming back to you, everything feeling too close to that moment. Just as you are about to turn the corner into the doors for the drawing room, the man reaches out for you. You brace for impact; however, nothing happens. You hear sickly screams emanating from before you as a pair of arms gently encase you in a protective embrace. As you open your eyes, you see shadows tearing the man who looked to be a part of the Vees team apart. Alastor covered your eyes before walking you back towards your room.
You didn’t even realize you had begun to cry or shake when you got to your room. The anxiety of reliving that night you died catching up to you. Alastor never let you go, even after you got to the safety of your room. Once you calmed down, Alastor went to the bathroom connected to your room. You sat there holding your face in your hands, probably looking like a mess from your actions. Alastor re-entered the room and brought you a fresh, damp towel. “To wash your face off; you probably don’t want all that on you anymore.” You nodded softly and began to wipe your face. Alastor scoffed, then took the towel from you, crouching down. Alastor gently held your face and began to clean it off. You two never broke eye contact. He was so gentle.
After your face was cleaned, Alastor took the pins out of your hair and went to find some more comfortable clothes for you. You were ushered into the bathroom and began to change when, through the door, Alastor began to speak. “Did he hurt you at all? I tried to get there as fast as I could. Before you came on, Mimzy was telling me about the night you died. I assume the Vees and their minions must have overheard and, in an attempt to weaken your resolve, make you remember that night.” You sniffled lightly, slowly opening the door, and you looked up at Alastor. Where was a man like him when you died? No, where was he when you passed that night? A choked sob left your lips as you hugged him close to you, crying into his shoulder. Alastor was amiss on what to do, but slowly, as you cried, wrapped his arms around you as well. 
As the tears faded, a green glow surrounded you and Alastor again, like when you first made the deal. No one signed up for Charlie's hotel, whether because the demon was mutilated one door over or because you didn’t come to socialize with the guests. It didn’t matter; Alastor had your soul now. Oddly enough, you weren’t as upset by this as you anticipated; you were happy about this. You felt safe, protected even. 
Alastor bid his farewell to you after you had finally calmed down. Neither one of you speaking about the contract or lost deal. You lay in bed, exhausted from all the crying and anxiety. As you drifted off to sleep, you saw your assailant again. This wasn’t an uncommon dream for you, but this time, it hurt worse due to the raw emotions. However, just as you were about to die again for the millionth time in this dream, a man dressed in red with brown hair and a soft smile protected you and saved you. 
You had been asleep for a little less than 24 hours when you woke next. Your body needed a recharge. You made your way to the kitchen to make some coffee; if you were staying at the hotel to sing, you could start putting together new songs and programs. You made your drink, noticing that Alastor's cup was missing from the cabinet. Taking your hot coffee back upstairs, you passed the hall to your room when you heard a piano playing your song Espresso. 
You made your way to the door and entered quietly to find Alastor playing your song, humming quietly in tune. You knocked gently and said, " Al, if you wanted a concert yourself, I would have given you one.” You smile softly. Alastor, unfazed by your appearance, probably already knowing you were there, hummed in amusement before speaking. “As a thank you, why don’t we perform a duet for me saving you?”  You made your way over to the piano, sitting down next to him and setting your coffee cup next to his on the piano. 
He began to play the start of the song, and you two began to sing together. Softly, you rest your head on his shoulder, allowing yourself to be vulnerable with your feelings for the man next to you. You had never sung this song like this before, and it felt special between you two. Some of you began to believe that this song was made for you and Alastor. Before you died, you knew you would meet your match—someone who met you as an equal yet also an opposite. Alastor finished the last few notes of the song. Comfortable silence surrounds you. 
Alastor smiled more naturally, “You know, Y/N, I do like your music. It did catch me off guard the first time I heard it, but your music has a lot of truths in it.” You look up at him from his shoulder, listening to his words. “From the moment I looked at you, I couldn’t get enough of you; when I met you, and you challenged me almost instantly, I knew I had to have you. You keep me awake at night thinking about everything that has happened between us in the last few weeks.” You smile softly, thinking back to the lyrics of your song. You lean up gently and place a kiss on Alastors cheek. He laughs softly when he turns to look at you thoroughly. “I’m sorry, doll, but you may have misunderstood me. I like you a lot; I feel that deserves more than a mere peck on the cheek.” You laugh wholeheartedly, this time without covering it up, before placing a soft, chaste kiss on Alastors lips. You pulled back, both of you smiling. “Now that’s an espresso I would happily take any time.” You laugh at his antics before placing your hands on the piano, now playing an old song you remembered from when you were a kid. 
All was well. Who would challenge the infamous Radio Demon, especially now that he had the notorious addictive ‘Espresso’ singer as his girlfriend? With your powers combined, he could overcome the deal he made, but that is a story for another time.
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avisisisis · 1 day
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i cannot stop thinking about anissa and marky though [COMIC SPOILERS]
how did he react when he learned what his mother did? just like mark, he lived a lie. he thought his mother was kind and nice — the only thing that is true is that she loved him, but now, he has no idea if he should believe it
and. you've grown up being conditioned to believe that violence is peace, and that kindness is a lie and a weakness. you hurt people. by hurting a person, by destroying him irreparably, you found the boy you love most: your son. and you don't regret it. you hope one day, once he sees him, he'll get it. but you still don't regret it. you can't say you're sorry
marky will grow up without his biological father, because when mark hugs him he can only remember his mother and what she did to him. your father can't love you the way your mom did. you can't love your mother the way your father loved his
the worst part is, that it she hadn't done it, you wouldn't have existed. you wouldn't be here. your father will grow to love you. you will grow to accept each other. but you tend to wonder — if he never sees you as anything else other than your mother's son, then who will you have when everyone else you know dies?
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