#Emily’s joy I fucking love her

[notherpuppet]

I’m so overwhelmed with what we saw,,,, I’m trying to grasp onto one train of thought

[hellishfig]

god… rewatching neverafter again

and the intro scenes are a mixed bag in terms of terror

rosamund is kind of freaky with the vines and the dead princes, but then we have gerard’s, which is very amusing. pib’s is also pretty funny. mother goose’s is dark bc his son is dead, but they still joke about the gander

then we get to ylfa. and brennan and emily show the darkest and saddest origin story i have ever seen for little red riding hood. a little girl, lost in every way possible, confused and alone and scared, begging her mother to let her in, and her mother refuses. her mother says that her daughter is dead and gone and a monster stands in her place. ylfa doesn’t want to be a monster. she wants to go home. but she is different, and her home turns on her, and that betrayal turns her on them. she huffs and she puffs and she blows the family that left her for dead away

and pinocchio. pinocchio whose mother is a shadow in a doorway. pinocchio who became a boy by being good, only to lose that gift by lying to save his father. pinocchio who loves his father enough to lie, and must now keep on lying to serve a woman he has never even looked in the eyes

there’s something very fitting about the children in this fairy tale land having the most horrifying stories. those stories about children straying from the path or needing to never tell a lie or misbehave in order to be real, they’re meant as warnings. be good, children, or you’ll never have the respect that adults get. be good, or the monsters in the shadows will come for you. be good, or you’ll die

in a season that was meant to be horror but was subverted by the players knowing the theme, i appreciate even more the darker corners of the story

[imaginary-land-scapes]

truly the only time i miss twitter is on oscars night. I have THOUGHTS about these red carpet looks (and I can't be arsed to find and reblog pictures with commentary lmao)

[robinante]

Emily Axford acts with unyielding wonder and empathy for everything she touches, and I love how Brennan knows this and plans for it. When he confronts Emily with a power larger than her, or a power stranger than her, he doesn’t bother trying to intimidate her. He expects her to look at whatever monster he’s made and speak to it with understanding. Emily touches what shouldn’t be touched so long as it means she can learn from it, and Brennan prepares for that. He may not know what she will do exactly (she is a bit of wild card) but you can always tell that he’s waiting for her to seek a connection and I love to watch it every time it happens. She acts with radical hope and understanding and pure unadulterated joy for what any world has to offer. Emily Axford and her role playing is fucking amazing.

[miley1442111]

consequences (final part)- a.donaldson

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a/n: HI EVERYONE! Thank you all so much for reading this story (sorry it was so long!) and supporting me, it means so fucking much to me, you don't even know! I HOPE YOU ENJOYED IT AND LIKED THE ENDING TOO :)

summary: a glimpse into your life, 4 years on.

pairing: art donaldson x reader,

warnings: talk of eating disorder, talk of pregnancy, reader is a mom, art is a dad. :)

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4 years later....

You lay in bed, an arm around your waist as the sunlight poured in from the window beside your bed. A pattering of feet and the opening of the door signalled the start of the day. Lily, and her little brother Hunter ran and jumped on top of you and Art, waking you both up from your hazy morning sleep. You rubbed your eyes to wake up, only to be met with the face of Hunter, giving you a hug. 

“Happy Mother's day!” he smiled, all two teeth an adorable sight. 

“Happy Mother’s day!” Lily squealed, squishing between you and Art to give you a hug. She would be spending the day with Tashi today, but she still counted you as her ‘mama’, not her ‘mom’ like Tashi was. 

And it didn’t bother you at all. You loved your two kids, technically neither of them were yours. Hunter had been adopted when he was 2 months old. You remembered the conversation with Art when you told him that you couldn’t get pregnant.

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“Art, I can’t have kids,” you swallowed nervously as your newly-wed husband leaned against the counter in the bathroom as you huddled over the toilet, just finished vomiting. Art had said ‘you must be pregnant’ and started stressing, so you had to just rip the plaster off and do it. 

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Art, I had an eating disorder for a decade, that doesn’t exactly do great things for your body.” 

“I know but-”

“But what? I can’t get pregnant anymore, end of story.”

You had expected him to be mad, to get angry. But he didn’t, of course he didn't, because he’s Art fucking Donaldson, and he loves you. 

“That’s ok baby, we can always adopt,” he nodded. “I wouldn’t have ever said it if I knew. I need you to talk to me about these things, ok?” his arms wrapped around you as you nodded, tears falling down your face. 

Art accepted you fully and loved you wholly. He was everything you’d ever wanted, and you cursed yourself for ever letting him get away, then you remembered that he cheated and that what you did was justified. 

But you loved him back all the same. 

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“Happy Mother’s day, baby,” he smirked, wrapping a hand around one of yours, and pulling it to his lips to press a kiss to. “You’re amazing.”

“You’re amazing,” you smiled. 

“Ok kids, pancakes for mom?” Art offered and they practically jumped for joy. He got up without another question and led the kids into the kitchen to start making your favourite, the first of many Mother’s day treats. 

Yeah, your life was great, and you loved Art Donaldson. Y/n Donaldson always had a nice ring to it anyways.

You two got married two years ago, Art and you quit tennis and now you're just regular boring celebrities. You got to galas and fundraisers, your very active in the foundation, and you get to stay at home with you kids and with Art. Art helped you heal from your ed and you helped him heal his trauma from his marriage with Tashi.

Pretty perfect life if you ask me.

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art donaldson masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)

people who asked to be tagged :)

@fkaams

@emily-b

@yourmommycallsmemommy

@hrtsj1m

@januarycolor

@ruyaas-world

@tqd4455

@blahhucantmakeme

@ellab101

@wheresthecaptaincrunch

@laur20a23

@strengthandstay

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

The Mango (The Surprise, Part 13)

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: explicit language, innuendo, implied sex, periods, mostly just fluff, reader taking care of Emily because our girl deserves it Word count: 1.9k

Summary: Emily comes back from a hard week in the field and you treat her in all the ways you can possibly think of. Because she's baby girl and she deserves to be taken care of.

Week 23: The Mango

In both your personal and professional life, you were a wildly independent person. Self-sufficient, dedicated, proud of the work you did and how hard you’d worked to get where you were. You were nobody’s doormat, nobody’s housekeeper, nobody’s mom.

If anyone else you knew, especially men, asked you to cook for them or do their laundry or take care of them in any way, you would have been personally affronted. You would have said, “You’re a fucking grown-up, do it yourself. I’m not your mom.” And you’d mean it.

So it embarrassed you a bit that, with Emily, you acted like a full-blown ‘50s-style housewife and you loved it. Not all the time, of course. But enough of the time that you couldn’t just brush it off. Dinner on the table when she got home? Your pleasure. Packing her lunch? A joy. Doing the laundry and making sure she always had a second go-bag packed and ready in case there was a quick turnaround on cases? You lived for that shit, especially when you hid little notes in the pockets that said things like:

I love you (so does little mango)!

We miss you! <3!

So proud of you for saving lives and kicking criminal ass! P.S. It’s hot. ;)

The bottom line? You were down bad for Emily. You had been from the moment she’d asked you out and all the years since. But after you’d gotten pregnant, your roles had switched a bit. Emily had always taken care of you well, but in the last few months she'd taken over significantly more of the household tasks since you were often tired and achy. You ordered takeout more often than you cooked (Emily had tried, but after her third time setting off the fire alarm you’d said, “You know what, babe, why don’t we just order out?”).

You missed taking care of Emily. God knows, she wouldn’t let anybody else do it. So when she’d called you from the jet to let you know she was on her way home after a grueling week in the field–made even more grueling by the fact that she was on her period–you set out to treat Emily right. To treat her in all the ways you used to treat her before you got pregnant, in all the ways that Emily deserved to be treated and so rarely let herself be.

You had groceries delivered to make her favorite meal, and when the little Find My dot that was Emily showed up at Quantico and started making its way back to DC, you ran her a bath–water scalding so it’d be nice and hot when she came in, fragrant with lavender Epsom salts. You lit candles, turned the bathroom lights low, even put her favorite hoodie and sweatpants and a fluffy towel in the dryer so they’d be toasty and warm when she got out of the bath.

You started on dinner, playing Emily’s favorite Salah Ragab record on the turntable. The food processor growled as it worked overtime to blend a homemade hummus, complete with your secret ingredient: a splash of aquafaba. You chopped parsley and mint for fattoush, made a marinade for the chicken flavored with all the spices Emily loved so much from her childhood years in Oman and Egypt, sumac and cardamom and coriander and all the others that you ordered online from a specialty Middle Eastern spice seller.

Your oven shawarma wasn’t as good as shawarma from a spit in Cairo, but it was about as close as you could get at home, and Emily loved it. And you made a damn good fattoush and hummus. You sliced cucumbers and tomatoes, whipped together a quick yogurt sauce.

You’d just put the chicken and veggies in the oven and were starting on the cream cheese filling for the stuffed dates when you heard the door open and shut.

“In the kitchen!” you called, hands sticky from slicing the dates.

Emily looked exhausted, with dark circles under her eyes, her blazer rumpled from a long day of travel. But her face lit up when she saw you.

“Do I smell… shawarma?!” she asked, wrapping her arms around your waist and kissing your neck, her hands resting protectively over your baby bump.

“Mmhm.” You grinned, feeling Emily’s body melt into yours, the tension in her muscles already dissipating.

“What’s the occasion?” She turned you around, so she could lean her arms on your shoulders, running her fingers through your hair.

You shrugged. “Can’t a girl just want to treat her wife?”

“She sure can.” Emily smiled and leaned in to press her lips softly to yours. You held your hands out at your sides so you wouldn’t be tempted to press them into Emily’s clothes or skin.

Emily pulled away, watching you lovingly as you sliced and mixed and stirred.

“Can I help with anything?” she asked, lowering herself into a chair and wincing slightly.

“In the kitchen!?” You scoffed. “Absolutely not. There’s a bath ready for you, so go relax for a bit.”

Her eyes brightened. “Aw, honey. That’s so sweet of you.” She grabbed your hips again, once again turning you away from the counter so she could press you against it in a hungry kiss.

You giggled and swatted at her with a dish towel. “Go before the water gets cold!”

“Care to join?” she asked suggestively, pulling lightly at the waistband of your shorts.

You smirked, gently grasping her fingers and moving them away. “I have to finish dessert.”

Emily walked toward the bathroom like a scolded puppy, looking back with big eyes. “I can think of something else I’d rather have for dessert,” she commented, eyebrows raised.

You waved her off, blushing furiously. “Get out of here, you dork! Go take your bath!”

“I thought we were treating me tonight!” Emily called from the bathroom.

“That’s an after-dinner treat, honey,” you yelled back. “I’ve got shit to do first.”

“Fine! But I’m gonna hold you to that!”

You shook your head, grinning, as you spooned cream cheese filling into the halved dates, pressing them into a mixture of crushed pistachios and rose petals. God, you loved your wife.

When the dates were plated, the bulgur in the fattoush soaked through, the pita warmed, and the chicken covered in foil and resting on the counter, you washed your hands and went to find Emily, grabbing her comfy clothes and towel from the dryer.

You heart surged when you found her still in the tub, eyes closed, face relaxed. This is what your girl deserved. You leaned down to kiss her on the forehead.

“You alright, honey?” you asked, trying to squat down next to the tub, but ending up on your knees thanks to the baby.

She hummed in affirmation, keeping her eyes closed. “Thank you so much for this, baby,” she mumbled quietly.

“Anytime, love.” You watched her for a few more minutes, then set the stack of warm clothes on the bathroom counter. “There’s a warm towel and some PJs here for you,” you said, struggling to get to your feet.

“You good?” Emily chuckled, watching you out of the corner of her eye.

“Yes.” When you finally managed to make it to your feet, you had beads of sweat on your forehead. It wasn’t even that your belly was that heavy yet, it was that it threw off your center of gravity and made moving from one position to another awkward. “Get dried off when you're ready,” you told her. “I’ll get dinner on the table.”

You were proud of the spread when you stood and surveyed it. Shawarma chicken straight from the oven, spiced and heavenly-smelling. Warm pita bread and a swirl of smooth, creamy hummus with just a bit of paprika and olive oil on top. A lovely, vibrant fattoush, sliced cucumbers, juicy tomatoes. A little plate of stuffed dates, popping with green and pink from the pistachios and rose petals.

Emily walked in, hair wet around her shoulders, blotching her sweatshirt. You pulled her chair out for her but, before she sat down, she wrapped her arms around you, pulling you in for a hug. She smelled like lavender and fresh laundry, and you breathed her in, holding her close.

You could tell by the way she lingered there, by the way she breathed easier with her body pressed against yours, that Emily would need a lot of touch tonight. Not just in a sexual way, though Emily’s sex drive was always through the roof on her period. You could tell that tonight, Emily would let you hold her, that she’d curl herself around you tightly, possessively, as if to cover the most that she possibly could of your surface area.

In other words, she needed comfort. And she didn't get it from anyone else, not really. It had taken her a long time to even ask for it from you, to seek it out. So when she did, you were always more than happy to oblige. More than happy to hold clingy, sweet, needy Emily for as long as she needed.

She whined a bit when you pulled away, and you kissed her cheek, playing with her fingers.

“You’ve got to eat something, love. Then I promise I will not let you go for the rest of the night.”

She sat obediently, squeezing your hand, and piled her plate with all the things you’d made, eyes rolling back in her head when she swiped a finger through the hummus and put it in her mouth.

“I don’t know how you do it,” she gushed. “I swear your hummus tastes just like my friend Zainab’s mom’s from when I lived in Oman.”

“It’s the specialty spices,” you shrugged, taking a bite of pita with shawarma and veggies.

“No, I think it’s the special person making it,” Emily cheesed, beaming at you.

You smiled and rolled your eyes playfully. “Oh, you’re getting it tonight.”

“I certainly hope so.”

When your plates were cleared and the leftovers tucked safely into the fridge, you led Emily to the bedroom, pulling back the covers for her, tucking her in.

“You know these are just gonna get untucked, right?” she asked, biting her lip.

“Shh,” you scolded. “Let me take care of you.”

You crawled into bed next to Emily, drawing her body into yours, holding her gently as you pressed your lips to hers. She melted into the kiss, already breathless.

You brushed her hair out of her face, placing your hand gently on her lower stomach. “How are your cramps?” you asked. “You want any medicine or anything?”

“The only medicine I need is you,” she said, guiding your hand lower.

You chuckled. “Alright, Romeo. Calm down.” You lowered your face to her neck, planting kisses all across her shoulder and collarbone. “I told you I’d take care of you, and I will.”

Emily held your face gently in her hands, looking deep into your eyes. “Why are you so good to me?” she whispered.

You pecked her on the lips. “Because I love you. And you deserve good things.”

And with that, you started your long, slow journey across the topography of Emily’s body, ready and willing to give her every good thing you possibly could.

[1-helluva-hazbin]

Hello! can you see a girl reader who wants to be perfect in everything (in appearance, in weight and in work) and cries if someone bypasses her? characters: adam or lucifer :)

I’m so excited for the ask! I’m happy to try and oblique. I’m not certain I 100% understand your ask so if what I’ve written isn’t what you meant, send in another ask! Thank you for your patience while I got to this as well! Both scenarios for both characters are going to be written with established relationships (friendship bordering on romantic for Adam, a romantic relationship for Lucifer). Both stories were only quickly proofread.

Trigger Warnings for Lucifer's story: suicide, self harm, self depreciation

.˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳.  ✶✶ Adam ✶✶  .˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳. Adam x fem!reader

Song that fits the vibe: Sleep Token - DYWTYLM

Adam was used to seeing women cry; usually tears of joy from having their brains fucked out by the dickmaster himself or subsequently tears of sorrow when he made it clear he didn’t want them and their clingy bullshit around long term. Regardless, they were a pretty regular thing for him to have to deal with.

In the time he had gotten to known you, which was decently long since he tended to get bored of the winners, he hadn’t ever seen you shed a tear. Even when you both had initially met and he had said some rude ass shit to you, you gave him grace. You were much like Emily in the sense that you were usually a bundle of joy full of understanding, forgiveness, love for all, blah-blah-blah.

Only you were hotter. WAY hotter.

In his books you were the hottest winner he had ever seen and based on how you acted, you knew you were good looking. You acted sheepish and tried to downplay any compliments you got but he noticed the way you glowed when you got them. You fed off of it. Taking pride in your appearance. You were always dressing to the nines, going through every known self care routine, and working out; even though you didn’t need to in heaven. You had it down to a science at this point with all of it seemingly coming so effortlessly to you.

Even the work you had taken up to help out the angels who needed it was easy for you. You only ever needed instructions once and you could repeat it back flawlessly performing it with ease.

The only more impressive thing besides being the most flawless being of all the heavenly creatures was that you, of all the winners out there, had impressed HIM. Besides killing sinners and fighting, you might even rank higher than Lute for badass bitches. He wouldn’t admit that openly of course. Lute would be pissed. Plus, that would make it seem like he liked you too much and he wouldn’t want to blow up your ego. He wouldn’t want to have to eat his own words down the line.

Yet, one day as Adam had rounded the corner, after a long boring ass meeting with the counsel, and he saw you standing in the vacant hallway with your head down and fists clenched. What the fuck were you doing? He started to ask until he noticed that though your hair covered your gorgeous face, he could see the tears falling to the ground. Your shoulders shaking slightly as you tried to quell the downpour.

The moment he got his barings, he started marching over to you. “Who the FUCK do I have to kill?” Your head whipped up, your eyes puffy and cheeks red. Somehow the tears that littered the marble floor hadn’t disturbed the perfect makeup you had dawned. 

“A-Adam?” you gasp out, suddenly trying to dab dry your face with the back of your hands. “Tell me who made you cry and I’ll fucking slaughter them.” Adam growled out. As he neared you, his approach slowed but the moment you were within arms reach his hands shot out to gently grab your face. His thumbs lightly rubbing away the tears while trying not to fuck with your make up. His eyes roamed your face, taking in how haggard you look, before locking eyes with you, “Give me a name sugartits. I’ll show ‘em not to mess with THE Adam’s friend.”

The intensity Adam was emitting was a little intimidating and yet, the way he was holding your face was so tender. You couldn’t help but lean into his touch as you brought your hands up to cover his. Tears started to well in your eyes again as you took a shaky breath.

He started to simultaneously panic and get wildly more pissed off the moment it looked like you were going to start crying again. His only tell that he was internally raging was that his eyebrows furrowed more, until you brought his hands down away from your face. You held onto them though as you lightly pressed them to your chest, right above your plush bust.

This was the first time you had ever considered talking about this with anyone. Usually you could hold yourself together long enough to get to your room before you fell apart but, today it had all been too much. The fear was overwhelming. The fear of being replaced. Of being tossed aside. You had done everything perfectly. They all had said so. They had sung your praises since you had come and yet now, their attentions had turned elsewhere. How was it that people could suddenly turn their affections to someone else when you had done it all right? You desperately needed the validation; the vindication. You had done it all right, hadn’t you? Where had you gone wrong? What did you DO wrong? How could you fix this?

You look up to Adam with your misty doe eyes. His gauze tightly fixated on you. He was an honest person. Unkindly sometimes but, he was honest. If anyone was going to tell you how you had fucked up and how you could fix it, Adam would.

“It-It…it’s just…” your breathing is shaky so you take a moment before continuing. “I feel…I feel like I messed up and I don’t know how to fix it. There’s…there’s a new winner. She’s really kind, smart, funny, and so pretty. She’s…” you choke up for a moment thinking about all the ways she’s attractive in the ways you aren’t, “SO pretty… and helpful. She’s so fast at everything she does. I…I…”

“Okay sugartits you’ve lost me. Why were you crying over some new winner?” he asked, utterly bewildered.

You tear your hands away from him as your eyes well up again. You shouldn’t have expected him to understand. “EVERYONE wants her help… I haven’t been able to help anyone out since shortly after she ascended and I feel so…so useless. She’s replacing me… I’m… I’m replaceable… how? I thought I did everything right? She’s so much better than me-”

“Shut the fuck up.”

The words stunned you into silence and halted your spiral, just as the tears had started flowing again. “You really think some dumb bitch is going to walk up in here and take YOUR place?” he scoffed rolling his whole head, “Yeah fucking right. I give it a week tops before she fucks up. As if some rando new winner can take YOUR place. They’ll be crawling back to you asking for your help. BEGGING for your help. You being the goody two-shoe you are though will forgive them for being stupid and will go back to being #1 at whatever boring paperwork they have you doing.”

“But…why would they just… What did I do wrong?” you ask with a hoarse voice his explanation not making sense.

“Do wrong?” He gasped out, “You couldn’t do a damn thing wrong in your life if you tried. They’re just being fucking dumb. You’re better than every other winners out there and when they realize that you need to rub it in their face. Make them LOATH the day they thought they could replace you. Until they pull their heads out of their asses I’m sure I got some stuff you could help me with.”

He reached out and wiped away the tears again. The aching in your heart eased slightly knowing he wholeheartedly believed what he was saying and, for the moment, his conviction was enough for you. Not that it completely quelled your feelings but, you were able to manage them far better knowing you were still wanted in someone’s world.

His eyes lit up, “You know, you could come to meetings with me and take notes or whatever. Give me the cliffnotes. That shit is SO boring. I’m sure your notes will be better than the official ones they write up anyways and I don’t have to read that shit.”

You smile laughing softly, “I can definitely do that.”

He returned the smile, his thumbs lightly caressed your cheeks, before withdrawing his hands. His whole demeanor instantly reverting back to his usual cocky self. “Damn am I good at giving advice out or what? Just another way I’m FUCKING amazing. You know what, I deserve some goddamn ribs.” he hooted as he turned and started waltzing off.

Seconds later he turned and looked back realizing you were still standing there in a daze, “Come on sugartits I ain’t got all day!”

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♱𐕣 𖤐 𐕣♱  ☽𖤐☾ Lucifer ☽𖤐☾  ♱𐕣 𖤐 𐕣♱ Lucifer x fem!reader

Song that fits the vibe: She’s An Actor - Austin Giorgio

Trigger warning: suicide, self harm, self depreciation 

You would have thought by now you would be used to being compared to other people. 

Used to aiming for perfection, without ever truly achieving it.

In life you had been constantly used as a pedestal; your sister, friends, co-works. It had never felt like you could claim the recognition you wanted despite having done everything right. 

The perfect GPA in school with extracurriculars to the point you only got a few hours of sleep. Yet your sister’s athletic achievements in swim and cheer had always meant more to your parents. 

The modeling career that you had gotten into, with your best friend following suit only for her to have gotten a contract a year before you. She had even attributed it to your help during a renowned shoot. An unintentional wound that drove you to the edge of your sanity; studying every fashion magazine, the extreme exercising, dieting, any pills that might help and you could get your hands on. 

Then once you finally caught your own break, getting a contract with a big modeling firm, constantly being included in the creme dela crop of models. The never ending critiques of what outfit looked good on which body for x, y, z reasons. Even if you were chosen more than every other model in the company for being the most ideal woman to show off the reveried outfits of the season, you were nothing more than a manikin. Replaced at the drop of hat the moment you couldn’t do it.

You couldn’t stop yourself though. You had to do it all. You had to do it flawlessly. You were a failure if you didn’t.

Yet, somehow it was never good enough.  Damned if you do. Damned if you don’t. Even in death, the out you brought about convinced it would be your sweet release, hadn’t ended the torment.  You had only condemned yourself further.  The epitome of failure.

Why couldn’t you even die right?

How had you ever attracted Lucifer’s attention?

As you stood in the the hotel lobby, the Hazbin Hotel gala fundraiser in full swing with all the top sinners and hellborns mingling and enjoying the free event, you felt eyes scrutinizing you. 

Your corset was cinched as tightly as it would go, reducing your waist dramatically, though giving you a somewhat nice hourglass shape. The mermaid style, galaxy themed dress had a sweetheart neckline and off the shoulder straps. It was a deep hue of royal purple on top before gradually fading to black starting at the hips as it descended your figure with gold and silver stars across the entirety of it, fit your figure snuggly and played off of Lucifer's pristine white and gold tux, his bowtie and pocket square the same royal purple. All your assets were perfectly held within the outfit, with tasteful peeks of skin showing beneath the chiffon overlay at your sides and a silt from just above the knee down. A golden snake choker with its head seated in your jugular notch, accenting your bust.

Lucifer hadn’t left your side since the event started. He had a hand incessantly lingering on your lower back as you both navigated the sea of people. You weren’t sure if the constant touch was for him or for you, but it helped steady you as you held yourself together by a thread. Every person you met was better than you in one way or another; status, poise, brand name outfit, professional makeup.

There was no hesitation with each new face in identifying any and every advantage or feature they had that you lacked. Another chip off your shoulder.

The socialite veneer seamlessly masking the degradation you were inflicting. The practiced saccharine smile never leaving your lips. Well timed laughs. A slight head tilt here to show your interest followed by a slight nod. The only honest part of your act was the high praise you sang regarding Charlie and her truly stunning optimism and strong willed determination.

You could feel the scrutiny lightening the longer the night went on. Some people even reapproached you and Lucifer to continue talking. Prior feigned politeness making way to many of the hellborns attempting political fanangling. Both you and Lucifer’s attempts to redirect the conversation back to the point of the party thwarted or outmaneuvered. Eventually, the conversations fell outside of your ability to participate. You had become an adornment.

You were so tired, so heavy.

Following a particularly trying bird guest whose smarmy quips were particularly taxing you excused yourself from the conversation, missing Lucifer’s panicked glance as you moved away. You just needed a break. 

Just a quick one.

You looked yourself over in the mirror. Fixing any stray hairs. Correcting any smudges of lipstick or eyeliner. You noted the contour along your nose could have been darker to thin your fat nose. You’d need a tighter corset as well should you need to attend another party like this.

You backed up to further evaluate yourself.

The prettiest you can be and still you are disgusting.

Your eyes fluttered shut and you took a slow deep breath. No. No you looked good. This would be something you could wear for a shoot. You just needed to change a few small things. Maybe a couple things. Possibly one bit thing. All the comparisons throughout the night flooded your mind, a tsunami. If only you could change everything about yourself. All the things you lacked. All the things you needed to be. Nothing you could ever achieve.

You choked out a sob. Your hands crawling up your arms as you hugged yourself tightly. You dug your claws into your flesh. Stop this. You couldn’t break down now. The gala wasn’t over just yet. You squeezed your arms tighter, not realizing your claws had broken skin. The failed attempt to reel yourself in breaking you further. Failure. Why couldn’t you hold yourself together for a night? You hunched over as now silent tears hit the floor.

A knock sounded at the door.

You held your breath, eyes wide as you stood there. A breath in through the nose and out through the mouth. “One moment please! I’m almost finished!” you call, your voice taking on a melodic tone. 

There was a pause. “Open the door sweetheart.”

Lucifer. You didn’t reply. Didn’t move. Didn’t breath. He knew you only used that voice when you were hiding a breakdown. It didn’t help that the bathroom was your go to place. “My sun, please?”

You crumbled.

The moment the door was unlocked he was in the bathroom with you. His small, lithe body slipping in and closing the door behind him. A soft smile greeting you despite the puffy eyes and tear streaks staining your made face.

“I’m ready when you are.” he whispered.

Your eyes widen and you’re frantic at the thought of being the cause of the king of hell leaving. Look at you fucking something else up tonight. Before you could say anything, a portal appeared behind Lucifer. He gently took your hands before he stepped back. He didn’t pull you though. 

You stared at him; his gentle smile, soft eyes, adorable cheek marks. The tears started flowing again and your hands squeezed his. You stepped into his room in the hotel several floors up from where you both had been, the portal closing behind you.

A glittery red mist engulfing the both of you before disappearing in seconds. Both of you in the dark blue rubber duckie pajamas he had created for your 1 month anniversary however long ago. His a short sleeve shirt with loose fitting pants and yours a spaghetti strap dress that flowed down to your knees. The gashes on your arms cleaned and bandaged up. Your hair down and make up gone. Across the room, your galaxy dress and his heavenly white suit and usual hat hung up on hangers.

“Thank you…” you whisper, trying to wipe away the endless tears that were still flowing down your face. He pulled your hands away from your face and lightly kissed you. He led the way over to the bed, both of you quickly climbing in. You cuddled into his chest as he wrapped his arms around you. You closed your eyes. Listening to his heartbeat and steady breathing. One of his hand of claws raking through your hair. A rosy cheek pressed to the top of your head.

“Will you tell me what’s wrong?” He asked in a whisper. Your hands clutched his shirt. Embarrassed you couldn’t keep yourself. He turned his head to kiss your hair. “You don’t have to tonight. It’s been a long day. Tomorrow though?”

You don’t want to. You don’t want to face the feelings, to face him. Admit to him the truth that nothing you did was ever truly good enough. That you were a failure and tonight was further proof.

You backed up to tell him it was nothing. That you just got overwhelmed and were tired. To hide away this ugliness. 

The look of concern caught you off guard though. He was unmasked. Vulnerable. Asking for you to be the same. He had been open about answering everything you had ever asked him, why couldn’t you do the same?

You couldn’t fail him. You could be a failure in every other way but not for him. You couldn’t fail him. Wouldn’t. 

Slowly, you nod and echo, “Tomorrow.”

“Okay.” He returned his cheek to the top of your head squeezing you into him with both arms. His tail manifesting and wrapping itself around your closest lower leg. “I love you.”

You burrowed into his side again, your own arms securing him to you. You smiled, feeling his tail. “I love you too. Thank you, my star.”

Both of you quickly succumbed to sleep wrapped in each other’s embrace.

Neither of you believing you deserved the the other.

[maxiskindahere]

Hell is forever | Lute x F!Reader

i’ve become obsessed w Hazbin Hotel recently and well where’s better to write than Tumblr!

I also love x readers and Lute so this is a fun time xx

i also haven’t written in a WHILE so this is not my best work but i promise im better xx

————

CW: swearing, sexual comments

Lute was an interesting person, she wasn’t typically the type of person you’d get in with. But since meeting her & Adam, you are sure that your life has improved… to an extent.

——

“Hey, Y/N! Don’t you think Lute would so much better with less on?” Adam teases as you walk into his office “Adam, you are going to be the first man with no dick if you don’t shut up.” Y/N deadpans, plopping down beside Lute on the couch

“You’re no fun, Y/N” Adam complains, throwing his head back with a groan “I just know that if I agree with you, Lute is very much able to fuck me up.”

You know of the exterminations, and you know Lutes body count. Being on her bad side is not something you wanted.

“Please, Lute’s too busy st-“ Adam is cut off with a yelp as Lute throws something at him “Shut up, Adam.” She hisses, glaring daggers at him “Fine fine” He mutters, flipping her off as you look between them in confusion

“So what happened in Hell?” You decide to ask, knowing the extermination had happened just a week prior. “Well we had a talk with Lucifers bitch daughter today.” Adam begins in a rant about how “Charles” decided to talk about how she wants the exterminations gone and some bullshit hotel

“She seriously thinks sinners can be redeemed?” Y/N questions, leaning forward “What does Sera think about this?” Adam scoffs, rolling his eyes

“she doesn’t know, it’s not like it’s going to cause problems anyways.”

——

Adam was wrong. It was definitely going to cause problems, but that wasn’t her issue. So, she continued on with her day while waiting for the time to come when she’d meet Lute for lunch.

“Sorry!” A voice exclaims as Y/N feels someone crash into her “Fuck!” She yelps out, quickly spinning around to be met with two demons and Emily, the seraphim of joy.

The h/c girl quickly straightens up “Seraphim Emily! What… are you doing here?” She splutters out, glancing nervously at the demons “Oh hush, Y/N. You know you can call me Em when Sera isn’t around” Emily informs the girl with a happy smile.

“Right well.. Em, what is.. going on?” She questions the seraphim, still glancing between the demons “Right! This is Charlie and Vaggie! They’re representatives from Hell!” The girl cheerfully explains

Y/N’s eyes widen “Holy crap! You’re the princess aren’t you?” She asks Charlie, whose face flushes “Yep, that’s me..!” She says awkwardly before taking Vaggies hand in hers “This is my girlfriend, Vaggie” She introduces with a soft smile

Y/N grins “I knew gay people went to he-“ She’s cut off by Emily wacking her lightly “I’m kidding! That’s sick, congrats” She says softly, fluttering her wings

“So, you here about this.. hotel thing?” Y/N questions, crossing her arms together “How do you know about that?” Emily quizzes the girl who pauses for a second “Uh, Lute told me!” She quickly states, rubbing her arm

Emily’s eyes widen “please tell me you two are-“ Before Emily can continue, Y/N spots Lute approaching the four “Respectfully, your majesty please stop” Y/N hisses out as Lute reaches them

“Y/N, where have you been?” Lute asks the girl, anger clear in her voice “Sorry, I ran into these lovely girls and you know how I feel about ditching people” Y/N states innocently, smirking at the anger in Lutes eyes “And you know how I feel about waiting, finish up here and meet me in my office.” Is all the taller girl says before departing

“She seems.. nice.” Charlie says after a few moments of silence “Oh she is, I just don’t think she likes demons” Y/N comments, she knew Emily was unaware of the exterminations and she was not about to admit that she knew to anyone.

“I’m not sure why, you two are lovely” Emily pouts, causing Charlie and Vaggie to give her light smiles “But uh, I better go.. Lute will be a pain if I keep her waiting much longer” She says, excusing herself as she bids farewell to the trio and makes her way to Lute’s office

“Hey..” Y/N says awkwardly, walking into the unlit office before being slammed against the now shut door “I can’t believe you!” Lute exclaims, glaring down at Y/N

“What did I do?” The girl yelps out, feeling the pain rush to her wings “You’re talking with Vaggie! Of all people!” Suddenly everything made sense.

Lute was always fighting for Adam’s favouritism with Vaggie. She was better than Vaggie in every way, but until Vaggies betrayal Adam couldn’t see it.

Since then, the girl had some serious issues with abandonment.

“Oh cmon Lute! You know I don’t care about that failure” Y/N tries to reassure as she feels Lutes heavy breathing hit her face “I only care about you, I promise” Y/N says softly as she notices Lutes eyes soften

“Sorry.” Lute mutters, still holding Y/N against the door “I know a way you can make it up to me” Y/N mumbles, looking down at Lutes lips before glancing back up at her eyes which were wide in surprise before slowly leaning down and capturing the angels lips.

Y/N quickly reciprocates the kiss, wrapping her arms around Lutes neck and pulling her closer, desperate to have the girl closer to her.

But before anymore could be done, Adam suddenly barges in knocking the two away from each other

“The trials starting, come on.”

—

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

Monster AU

*this day started out like any typical Extermination Day, Adam getting dressed in the dark blue robes he wore and Sera going to secretly wish him luck on this day since they both decided to Emily shouldn’t know about how once a year the Exorcists would go down to Hell and kill Sinners, they wanted to keep her innocent*

Sera: Come back safely my son.

Adam: I will mom.

*Sera had adopted Adam when he came to Heaven as the first human soul, he put on his helmet and left to give a speech to his girls and they left for Hell, in the midst of the slaughter everything was about to go very wrong for Adam, as Adam cut down a Sinner as Adam saw a witch approach him*

Adam: What the fuck do you want?

Witch: You have been slaughtering your descendants, so I will curse you. You will become a monster on the outside just like you a monster on the inside. The only way you can break the curse is if you find someone to love you and sleep with you. Good luck, you will need it.

*Adam screamed as he grabbed at his helmet and wouldn’t come off because it was becoming his actual face, everything hurt so much, he flew away not wanting anyone else to see him, once the pain faded he looked at his reflection he saw his helmet was his real face now, he pulled off his robes and saw his body was covered in black fur and his hand had claws and his feet now had hooves, he had a tail and his wings were more bat like now, Adam hated his body*

Adam internally: Who could love me like this?

*he went and got clothes for himself, black jeans, a black leather jacket, a black shirt, and his kept his black combat boot with gold spikes, he got dressed, he could hide in Hell and pretend to be a Sinner since no one would want him in Hell, what he didn’t know was that Charlie saw him and thought he could be a potential guest at her new hotel along with her first guest Angel Dust*

Charlie carefully walked over to where Adam was, she knew she had to be careful not every soul wanted to be helped or approached.

Charlie: Excuse me?

Adam: Ahh!!

Charlie: Oh sorry I didn't mean to startle you.

Adam looked the young demon girl up and down. She looked like someone he used to know but he couldn't put his finger on who.

Adam: What do you want?

Charlie: My name is Charlie and I run a hotel that helps rehabilitate sinners! I saw you and thought you'd make a nice candidate if you're interested. It'll be at no cost to you everything is free.

Free huh? Adam guessed that it would be better than sleeping outside in the elements. Even if he didn't believe in her redemption crap.

Adam: Alright.

Charlie nearly jumped for joy, another sinner to help! What luck! She talked excitedly all the way back to the hotel with him.

Not knowing that his first love was going to drop in any day to see his daughters progress.

[nunalastor]

I have been struck by an idea for Angel Alastor AU

*Alastor's POV*

A couple months into his stay in Hell Alastor finds and figures out how deals work, as well as their roll they play in maintaining this realm. He is excited to try it out and finds out he is really good at it. BUT!! After awhile the people he takes under his care collapse into shows of light. He doesn't get it. What is he doing wrong! the only 2 thralls not leaving are Nifty and husker.

Let's see he takes in children and women who did what they had to do to survive. Check! Give them free housing in the forest he grew with his magic. Check!! Employ the women as either teachers/caretakers for the kids or writers for his radio shows. CHECK!!! Basically build and maintain a self sufficient community that doesn't have to worry about the stress of hell while he get to have his fun. Check fucking CHECK!!!!

No matter how many years pass in hell it keeps happening. It's confusing but that's ok, he only did it because all the most respected Overlords of hell run and maintain communities. His new bestie Rosie, Carmillia, Missi Zilla, Zestial and even that pathetic picture Box that got a lucky hit to his forehead with an angelic dagger ( thankfully Alastor bashed vox's face in before he could back up the memory) has one. Well the Princess is opening a hotel i hopes of rehabilitating sinners should be fun. He just hopes that the letters he wrote for Guy, Emily and his Mom and that they forgive him for his selfish acts.

*Heaven's/Micheal's POV*

It has been years since the one so loved by Heaven went missing because of Adam's carelessness when something miraculous starts happening. The souls of women and children damned to Hell start appearing before the high Seraphim Sera. Despite all the struggles the souls went through and endured, they had one thing in common.

Alastor

When Micheal is filled in on what's happening he doesn't rushes to the observation orb within Heavens Court house. With the help of the very souls Alastor redeemed he lays eyes upon his beloved for the first time in years. The sight is both comforting and devastating as Micheal watches Alastor rub at a nasty scar along his temple.

Of course. Everything makes sense now. His beloved wouldn't abandon everyone he loves on a whim. He didn't know it was possible for the love he has held for his deer to grow deeper because even when trapped in hell under the delusion that they're a demon Al still went out of his way to help others. After many apology's to Guy, Emily and Al's Mom for the deceit Sera decides the best course of action going forward is to call a meeting with Lucifer.....OH, Lucifer sent his daughter in his place. WAIT! She's starting up a redemption project that's perfect we can give her support through the search party now led by a talented exorcist by the name of Vagatha And his beloved's best friend Guy who's a detective turned therapist.

Charlie: "wait uncle, you know redemption is possible?"

Micheal: "Well yes, but not how because my boyfriend the saint who figured out how to do so, got trapped in Hell due to a tragic mistake some years ago suffering a horrible head wound. We were finally able to find him but we don't know how much he truly remembers."

*Lilith POV*

Lilith who has spent the last couple of years getting faded off champagne on a beach: "I feel like i'm forgetting something important" -the unopened letters Alastor asked her to deliver sitting at the bottom of her luggage- "If i can't remember, probably not a big deal."

-sleep deprived Anon-

P.S. the thought of Alastor finally finding joy in his after life only to have it be ripped out from under him because he is unintentionally being really helpful is funny and the growing unhinged perspective of Micheal as he searches for his beloved, is absolutely delightful for me

P.S.S. I had to write this down twice so it's a lot longer than it was originally so here's this wall of text-sorry not sorry

👀

[literaryvein-reblogs]

bunny x cat dynamic?

Like, adhd bunny and grumpy cat dynamic? I'm going to try writing a bit where the dynamic of the main characters are fleshed out. Any input on what people often enjoy about these for me to take into account?

To me it's so cute because she considers herself more as an annoying dog but for him, he considers her to be a cute, hyperactive bunny (that's kind of useless to (literal) death but let's put that aside, or not)

The ideal response to this would come from your readers. If you've already established your reader base, try asking them their preferences and expectations. Of course—still, write the story you want (and need) as a writer. And there it is, in your second paragraph. The idea is that if you write what you want, the people who also prefer this dynamic will find your work and stay for the rest of the story, and will more likely enjoy your other work as well (this is essentially what most successful authors advise new writers—write what you want, what you enjoy etc etc). But striking a balance between your readers' and your own preferences would be great too.

If you don't have a reader base yet, I'd suggest going through your favourite literature/films and finding ones that depict this particular character dynamic. Then you yourself, as a reader/viewer now, could answer what you find enjoyable about these pieces of media, and incorporate that in your writing.

Also, here are some tropes that I think have similarities with the dynamic you described. Same suggestion with finding books or films/TV shows you like that feature these tropes. But also research their readers'/audience's feedback to find out what they enjoyed about these character tropes, and this is what you can take into consideration for your story.

Grump and sunshine. One character is so grumpy all the time; the other character is so bubbly all the time. And somehow, through that power-of-love thing, they end up balancing each other out. The grump sometimes has sworn off love.

Savvy Guy, Energetic Girl. This is a potential pairing (platonic or otherwise) between a pragmatic guy and a girl who is very full of energy. One partner in the pair will be lively and optimistic while the other is savvy and more slothful, quiet, or otherwise less expressive. EXAMPLES:

In Corpse Bride, Emily and Victor. The former is a dead bride who is rather lively and spiritual for a corpse, while the latter is a live man who is shy and awkward almost to a fault.

This defines Anna and Kristoff's relationship in Frozen nicely. She is a spunky princess willing to do whatever it takes to bring her sister home, he is a grumpy, rough-around-the-edges ice harvester helping her along the way.

In Pixar's Up, the quiet and timid Carl befriended and eventually married the energetic Ellie.

Uptight Loves Wild. He's stuffy. She's untamed. It's true love. Mr. Stuffy is in a rut: Life is boring because he plays by the rules. Along comes this wild and crazy woman to show him how to live life to its fullest, and she just might learn a few things along the way, too. EXAMPLES:

Enchanted: Stuffy, cynical divorce lawyer Robert meets fairytale princess Giselle.

The Sound of Music: Maria isn't "wild", but she is a Blithe Spirit in the face of the extremely uptight, Captain von Trapp.

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind: Quite thoroughly deconstructs this. A relationship like this doesn't always work and after the falling-in-love part, it causes more pain than joy; so much so that both parties opt to have their memories removed of each other. The Manic Pixie Dream Girl is also far more complicated: "I'm not a concept, I'm just a fucked-up girl looking for a peace of mind".

Opposites Attract. EXAMPLES:

The Princess and the Frog has Tiana and Naveen. She's a Workaholic, no-nonsense waitress and he's a fun-loving, lazy prince.

Tangled gives us the jaded, worldly-wise thief Flynn Rider and the spirited, innocent princess Rapunzel.

Treasure Planet has Captain Amelia and Dr. Doppler. She's a tough-as-nails Action Girl, he's a bookish scientist, not to mention they're basically an anthropomorphic cat and dog, respectively. The two grow closer throughout the movie, and by the end they even have several kids.

Sources: 1 2 ⚜ More: Writing Notes & References

[writteninlunarlight-years]

Now .listen to me Luna I will haunt your dreams if you don't do a part two of "Things I Wish I Got To Say" Where we get redeemed ,and after some time Alastor also gets into heaven which why we meet again .

If that doesn't happen then I advise you to lock your doors because my heart is in pieces.

(I fucking love your writing)

The Things I Wanted To Say

Alastor X Reader

(You guys ask, and I must produce, lol. Here is a happier ending to my previous post, The Things I Wish I Got to Say. Thank you for all the love and support.)

You were like any other demon in hell. You were cold and calculating, standoffish and stubborn. It was cute, but I wouldn’t tell you that to your face. I knew you had your set ways in life, and I had mine. I never thought the day would come when I would never see that familiar smile again. Something so cherished in my time by your side that I refused to forget even in my new life.

I thought surely Charlie's magical ideas would never be actual or possible. However, her smile and joy were so contagious that I returned to that hotel countless times to help her achieve her dreams. See, when I died the first time, I was being attacked; in my defense from the attacker, I killed them, and I was cast to hell. It's an odd thing to be considered a sinner, but I wouldn’t change it for the world, especially since I got to see you all those days.

What hurt the most when I left hell wasn’t the sword to my chest or the ringing in my ears. It was knowing I would never see that smile again. That was the worst part of it all, honestly. I got so used to the sound of your static, the buzz of your voice, the joy hanging off your arms.

I still remember when you taught me how to dance. I was horrible at it, I know, but you made me feel like I was the best at it all the same. You made me feel the best at a lot of things, from dancing to cooking. You even let me write scripts for you a time or two. 

I still laugh when I remember how I told you ‘I Know’ when you confessed your love for me. Would you believe me if I told you I was just scared you were lying to me? Yet when you held me close after saying it, you washed all those worries away. I was fortunate to be there with you.

I sometimes still wish I listened to you that night when you begged me to run away. Maybe had I listened, I would still be by your side or have seen your smile. Yet I didn’t. Would you like to know why, my love? Because the thought of you dying without me was too heartbreaking to handle. I couldn’t imagine a life without you, yet here I was, making you live without me.

When I arrived in heaven with Pentious, everyone was shocked. These two angels were there, Emily and Sera. One sure looked more happy than the others. However, Pentious and I fought to make Charlie's dream a reality here in Heaven, too…I know she saw me up here when she visited last. Did she tell you I was alive and well?

Do you care I am alive and well?

I wish to see you again, my love…maybe one day, you will be redeemed as well.

To: My Radio Demon

From: Your Doe

A loud banging was heard at my door. I rushed to cover up my desk, and as I made my way to the door, I straightened myself out, whipping my eyes from the tears I let out. Charlie had brought me the letter that Alastor had written in my absence, and I felt compelled to respond even if he would never read it. Opening the door, I see the young Seriphem Emily standing before me with a bright smile. “OH, Y/N, YOU NEED TO COME WITH ME QUICK!” 

I laughed. She was always so happy when a new batch of hotel residents was redeemed. She always wanted Pentious or me to be there so we could help them adjust to this new life. “Em, please I…I have had a long day…How about you ask Pentious to go instead.” Though I hated to see her frown, she nodded in sad agreement. I closed the door and returned to my desk, looking at the two letters next to each other. When would Charlie be back to give this to him? Would he even read it? Does he hate me for dying? 

As thoughts swam through my head, I recounted the years since my arrival here in Heaven. Looking at all my new photos of my time and journey here, I wondered if my old room in Hell still had those photos from my time there. Charlie said Alastor wouldn’t let a soul into my room once I was gone. 

It took a lot of arguing and convincing to get the angels on Charlie's side even after we appeared here in Heaven. Yet I couldn’t be more proud of the progress all of us have made. Smiling, I let more tears fall. I missed you so much. As I let the dam of emotions release, I heard another knock at my door.

I hoped it wasn’t Emily, though I have always been kind; I knew my current temper would rival my old self in Hell. “EMILY GO AWAY I CAN’T GO OUT NOW!” 

I had so much sorrow and pleading in my voice that I hoped she understood. Yet the knocking continued, only growing more frantic. I sighed, not even bothering to clear my desk as I made my way to the door. Em had often seen me cry over Alastor, so why would this time be any different? 

As I opened the door, time seemed to freeze, to stop dead still. I couldn’t believe my eyes. A new wave of tears and emotions overran my being, and before I knew it, I was jumping into Alastors' arms.

“Hello, dear, long time no see. Did you miss me?” He spoke so clearly, with no static or radio edge. It was odd at first, but it made no difference; the man I loved was standing before me here right now. “Alastor! You are here! How? What?” As I spoke, I pulled away and saw he no longer sported the Red and Black of his typical look. No, he looked ethereal, angelic. Alastor had been redeemed, The Alastor, overlord, and soul owner was redeemed. “Well, my darling, it took a lot of work and quite a few freeing of souls to make this happen.” He smiled, but not the strained, forced smile; it was a regular, normal smile. I felt so at peace; my Alastor was back.

“Oh, Al, you did all of this for me?” He nodded his head, pulling me back into him once more. This time, over his shoulder, I could see a smiling Charlie, Pentious, and Em at our reunion. Pulling me back to face him, I yanked him into the room and closed the door. “Al, we have so much to catch up on; there is no time to waste.” A warm chuckle left his chest as he held me once more. We had all the time in the world now, safe from hell, contracts, and everything that wasn’t our pure, happy love.

I finally have the chance to tell him all The Things I Wanted To Say…

(aha, did I trick you guys there for a moment, thinking it was just another letter. hehe)

[jude-duarte-wannabe]

hi!! could i please order a s’more with a side of coconut milk and extra sweetener?? for luke alvez pls🫶 thank u lovely!

would you be so kind

order up!

hi lovely thanks for the request, i love a little luke alvez in the morning and as you requested, your order is extra sweet <3 your requested prompt will be bolded and song lyrics from the song i listened to while writing this will be in italics

pairing; luke alvez x female reader

warnings; dirty thoughts, slight intoxication and google translated spanish

s'more; "the accent got to you, didn't it" coconut milk; friends to lovers

currently playing; would you be so kind by dodie "oh, would you be so kind as to fall in love with me? you see, i'm trying, i know you know that i like you but that's not enough so if you could please fall in love"

you thought you knew exactly what the night would bring: laughter, joy and drinks with friends after a long and grueling case which was well deserved after being stuck in a small middle of nowhere town in texas with the sun beating down upon you day after the day and while you wouldn't normally complain about a free tan, this was hardly a vacation; unless of course your idea of a vacation was tracking down yet another sick homicidal psychopath.

and what made everything so much worse was the unrequited crush you had on your best friend who also happened to be your partner; luke alvez

it didn't matter what he did, said or even wore, everything about luke drove you nuts, from his soulful brown eyes to his musky cologne, he always managed to leave your thoughts scattered like leaves in the wind and what made everything harder was that luke had to be the hottest guy you'd ever met; with soft curly locks and brown eyes that reminded you of autumn and after having worked with derek morgan for the past eleven years, that was saying something, the music in the bar was thumping in your ears as you downed another glass of whiskey while staring at luke from your place at the bar, you were tipsy to say the least, wanting to forget all about your feelings for the man who so clearly wanted to take the little blonde currently attached to his arm home with him.

i mean what did she have that you didn't.

"your staring" came the voice of who you would consider to be your second best friend penelope garcia, her perky voice a little to much handle during the current situation of longing after luke.

"i really don't get what you see him" it was those words that caught your attention, snapping your head towards penelope eye's wide "sometimes i don't know either" you mumbled, sipping from the glass in your hand, the whiskey burning your throat on the way down, the burn was the exact distraction you needed, it's just a shame it wasn't the permanent one you sought for.

"what does she have that i don't" you pondered aloud; staring at the blonde attached to luke's muscular frame not expecting an answer yet receiving one from your co-worker; emily, who'd wandered in on the conversation "uh.. how about the courage to tell him she's interested" she laughed "nothing's going to happen if you don't tell him"

"please, like luke would listen" you scoffed, trying to wave down the bartender for another drink "don't i always listen" oh you would know that smooth tone of voice anywhere, it was smoother than the whiskey you currently drank, you even heard it in your head when fantasizing at night, it was a surprise that you didn't break your own neck from how fast you snapped your head back to look at luke who had appeared out of nowhere, blonde nowhere in sight... thank fuck.

you could see emily and penelope slink off out of the corner of your eye, leaving you alone with the one man who was forever on your mind; the traitors.

"only when it benefits you" you joked, the chuckle that left luke's lips made your thighs clench together and butterfly's swarm in your stomach, couldn't he see what he was doing to you.

"what happened to your friend" you questioned and luke just smirked, leaning against the bar with his usual confident yet sometimes arrogant aura surrounding him "not my type" his words were simple yet you could see through him or at least you thought you could "now that is a lie if i ever heard one luke alvez, she was practically begging you to take her home" no matter how much the words hurt to hear, you had to get the thought off your chest and into the open.

"why would i take her home when i could spend the night with my best friend" and there it was was, the friend zone, looming over you like a rat trap waiting for its prey to take the bait, that was it, you'd had enough, downing the last of your glass of whiskey for confidence.

"i can't do this anymore" you blurted out, your irritated tone of voice one luke knew all too well, he mostly got that tone of voice from you after stealing your last piece of gum or something else stupid "how are your lungs, are they in pain?" your question was strange to say the least "cause mine are aching and i think i know why" oh you knew exactly why, it was because you couldn't function correctly let alone breathe around this man.

"i think you've had enough to drink dulce niña" his fingers brushed your own as he reached for the glass in your hand, trying to take it before you asked for another and heat that pooled in your belly at his touch made you want him even more, oh the things you wanted to do to him.

"don't change the subject" you snapped, staring him down like he was some kind of meal "don't you see what your doing to me, you drive me crazy and to top it off, you lied to me luke.. if you want to go home with that girl who i know you care about-" your rant was cut short as his hand cupped your cheek, forcing you to look at him, his eyes soft "do you truly think i care about anyone or anything but you" his question was simple yet you weren't sure how to answer, your mind was a jumbled mess of thoughts, more jumbled than the 3000 piece puzzles reid kept buying for your birthday insisting that they helped with concentration when really all you really wanted to do with those puzzles was watch them burn.

the soft look in his eyes was enough to calm your erratic heart "i know you care luke but you don't care enough to see how much i want you"

"you want me" you couldn't help but giggle at his bewildered expression "what on earth did i do to make you want me" he gulped.

"i don't know" you replied "i just woke up one day and thought if the chance ever came around that we'd be a good us" you nuzzled against his hand that still cupped your cheek, eyes gazing into his own, now it was his turn to have butterfly's. the way you looked in the moment was heavenly and had he not known you for as long as he had, he would have thought you were an angel, hell you still could be.

"the accent got to you, didn't it" he finally found his words, his suggestion wasn't too far off, his accent was one of the many things to get you hot and bothered late at night while you were tossing and turning, thinking about him and what his touch would feel like on your bare skin as you lay together tangled in your sheets.

he could feel your smile at his suggestion against his palm and he wasn't sure if it was the alcohol he'd previously consumed or what but you'd never looked more beautiful than in this moment "mierda" he cursed, he'd never thought of you this way but now that he had, he didn't think that he was ever going to be able to stop.

"now you know i like you" you whispered against palm, breaking the silence and unable to stop yourself from kissing his palm softly, lips warm against his skin "could you do me a favor luke" he nodded his head.

"would you be so kind as to fall in love with me, you see i'm trying, i know you know that i like you but that's not enough, so if you could please fall in love" you softly begged or more or less whimpered, oh how you wanted to kiss him, try and convince him that together the two of you would be perfect.

"can't you see that we'd be a good us" you murmured and your breath shook as he leaned closer, nose pressed against your own, his smell now more intoxicating than ever from how close he was, you both shared an eskimo kiss, the tips of your noses rubbing together gently "i think we'd be a wonderful us... thank you for making me see that" and his lips met yours, gently kissing away any fears or doubts that you had about ruining the best friendship you'd ever had.

[mylittlegemlins]

Spy x family hurt/comfort ideas for destroy your soul:

-loid and yor are expecting a child, anya is jealous that they don't love her as much as their own child.

-Loid, speaking seriously with Sylvia: " fuck it, I'm going to keep them and if you want me to continue being your star spy, you're going to give me missions that don't involve falling in love with women or adopting children, one is enough for me. "

-Loid thinks about the joy his wife and daughter bring him: God, when was the last time I did something just for… fun? Why I didn't do it befo-... oh right... This is a mission

-Loid wonders how Yor had never dated anyone until she was 27, then Yor interprets something very literal and Loid thinks, oh that's why.

-Since Loid saw that Anya had too much stress after the sandbox test, he is very worried about her mental health. Anya stares into space because she's busy thinking about what he thought. But he thinks that the poor girl she is dissociating due to a trauma and he tries to repair her with kisses and hugs.

-The mission ends on the night of a full moon, so Anya has no idea if her father plans to get rid of them, or how, or when, she just stays close to her parents for as long as she can.

-Yor begins to question if she is going to be married to Loid until death do them part, since she barely knows Loid... Well, she knows him a little... For a year... But she is not sure of her feelings for him.

- -Loid finally decides to take Anya to the doctor because bleeding from the nose every time you get overwhelmed by loud noises might not be normal. Anya is just terrified that the doctors will open her brain and see that she has her powers, somehow. he also discovers that she is very low in weight and height for her age and worries even more.

-you love me? Direct question to destroy the heart of the best spy in the country, especially if it comes from a child, especially if it comes from an orphan, especially if it comes from his daughter who has never lived more than 4 months with an adoptive family because they did not get attached to her. Answer honestly, she will know if you lie.

-The Strix mission ended. Loid abandons Anya and breaks up with Yor without much explanation. only to regret it 15 minutes later and run to find them.

-Anya obtains 7 tonitrus having already 7 stellas. And she knows that expulsion is closer than the prize. So she runs away from home.

- Anya is finally ready to tell Loid a little about her birth mother and the orphanage, and it hurts.

-Anya never had a birthday party because there was no budget at the orphanage. Loid is able to hiring even the boys who cry if that makes his daughter happy

-Yor is hospitalized due to a fight and telling your husband that you have appendicitis is easier than explaining to him that some criminals shot you 3 times in the hip and who the hell you're still alive.

-Bond has to bite one Forger to save them from some imminent danger he predicted but the rest of the family panics and gets very angry with Bond.

-"If you keep getting close to dangerous guys you are going to get really hurt one day." Ergo, Anya gets hurt.

-Did you know that adoptable children in real life know that their chances of being adopted go down as they grow older because most only adopt babies? Anya knows it.

-Loid and Yor have no choice but to sleep together because their daughter is terribly ill in the hospital and her last wish is to sleep with them together. Or she actually has a common cold and they took her to the emergency room because they panicked when her fever went up 0.1 degrees.

- Damian wants to hang out with Anya but he would never let Emilie and Ewen find out.

-Loid comforting Anya during an anxiety attack because he thinks it's because of her past and only he knows.

-Instead of directly saying that he wants to keep his family or give up being a spy, he begins by extending the mission for 4 more months, and then another 4 more. And when he realizes 4 years have passed.

-Yor asks Loid about his dead ex-wife because they will never go to leave her flowers or he doesn't have old photos of her and baby Anya. Loid has many photos to fake.

T/W torture

-Anya biological father is a voluteer or one of the scientist because she was made by artificial insemination so that she was born, Anya's mother was kidnapped from a rural town where her language was almost extinct.

-The scientists remove Anya's mother's tongue so that she cannot communicate with her other than through her telepathy.

-The scientists being really mad the first time that her powers didn't work during the full moon.

-Still has nightmares about the electroshock in the laboratory every time she failed the tests. Her parents try to console her but she can't tell them anything, even if she wants. still hurts.

[the-king-of-hell-66-6]

TW: picture with blood included

Hello, Your Majesty,

Well, I must say, Adam's cult members are quite efficient and they certainly left their mark in my house, to say the least...

However, it seems I ended up somewhere completely unexpected instead of in Hell. Something about lifelong selflessness and constantly putting others' needs ahead of my own? 😅

On the plus side, I met with a lovely angel named Emily and I'm told I can help her spread joy around! Also, I'm getting to learn the harp, which is a lifelong dream of mine!

@ask-adamsapple66

The fuck did they do now?

[kittenofdoomage]

A Bargain Struck

Summary: Inspired by this post on Tumblr and the lovely @angryschnauzer. You’ve struck a bargain with something unholy, and now he wants his due.

Pairing: demonic!Geralt x female!reader

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: angst, demonic rituals, selling souls, everyone’s over the age of 18, this is a sort of medieval AU, use of horns for leverage during sex, transformations during sex, probably a lot of blasphemy?, it’s filth yet fluffy? Soft!Geralt is definitely a thing here. Let’s get weird. Uh, size kink, wing kink, demonic tongue fucking, definitely monsterfucking.

Ao3 Link

A/N: I was too excited to share this one with everyone. I know @deandoesthingstome wanted a tag (I think anyway, I didn't hallucinate that, right?) but haven't tagged anyone else to read. Let me know what you think, in gif form or otherwise!

She can’t help but feel joy when her sister, younger than her by only a few years, bursts through the door of their cottage, laughing as Dotty nips at the hem of her dress. It is a relatively new sight to behold, to see Emily filled with such life, when only weeks before she had been expected to die. “The moon, Y/N, did you see it?” she gasps, coming to a stop at the table, leaning on it with her hands to stare out of the window. “It’s so pretty!”

“I’ve seen,” Y/N replies, turning away from her sibling so she doesn’t see the worry in her eyes. It’s a blood moon, huge and pinkish red, filling the horizon in a stunningly clear sky. You have until midnight at the blood moon, he had said, the formless voice in the darkness that had granted her wish for her sister to live. She knew the price when she sought him out; it was clear in the ritual. Her sister’s life for her soul, bound to him for eternity.

A price she would gladly pay again.

“You’re quiet,” Emily murmurs, pulling out a chair as Dotty jumps around her. “What are you making?”

“Venison pie for supper. And I’m just concentrating.” The pastry around the edges of her creation are not playing ball, and they need to be perfect. This is her last meal with her family, and she intends to savor every moment of it. “Would you mind setting the table?”

She’s spent the last three weeks worrying if they will cope without her. He had given her assurances of a long happy life, but the what ifs and maybes still linger, nibbling at her thoughts until she was consumed with anxiety over it.

Emily hums as she gathers the dishes and cutlery for dinner, making Y/N smile as she finally gets the pastry to behave. The oven billows out a plume of hot air when she tugs the door open, and she shoves the pie in. “There we go,” she mutters, wiping the grease off of her hands onto her apron. “It should be ready when Mother gets home.”

“She’s still at the church?” her sister asks.

Chuckling, Y/N locates her cup of tea, happy to find it still warm enough to drink. “Well, your recovery was nothing short of miraculous,” she sighs. “Mother just thinks she needs to pay Him back.” She could have told her, of course, but their mother had always fallen on the more devout side of religious, and she didn’t think any good could come of confessing her deal with the devil, or something like him at the very least. The last thing she needed is to be locked up for being a witch - if she wasn’t there to pay the price, he could take back what he’d given, and she would not let that happen.

The cottage fills with the scent of the pie as it cooks. Y/N prepares the vegetables, listening to Emily chat about her day, wiping away an errant tear as she soaks in her sister’s excitement and zest for life. She wishes dearly that she could be there to see her grow and learn, maybe get married and have children, and hates even more that she won’t be. As the time to say goodbye creeps closer, she feels her nerves churning into an uncomfortable ball that sits in her belly, filling her with dread.

Their mother comes home just as they are plating up the meal, and the conversation revolves around her day at the church. She makes them say a prayer before supper, though Y/N keeps one eye open because she’s certain no prayer or God can save her from what she’s giving herself to. 

As her family continues to chatter obliviously, she tries to keep her focus on them, to enjoy the moments she has left with them. Emily is talking about a local boy she has a crush on, and Y/N feels her heart in her throat when her mother asks if she will be going to the market in the morning.

“I hadn’t given it much thought,” she mumbles, cheeks rapidly warming. “How’s the pie?”

“Wonderful as always,” her mother replies. “I don’t know where you get your cooking skills from, certainly not me.” The joke is supposed to make her smile but Y/N only feels regret that she’s leaving them.

“You’re a good cook too,” Emily insists, grinning at her sister who manages a weak curve of her lips.

She’s trying so hard not to show her grief. She should be happy. Her sister will live a full and happy life. Y/N couldn’t think of anything she wanted more.

Dinner is over quickly, and once everything is cleared away, Y/N looks out of the window. The moon is a deeper shade of red now, hanging ominously over the trees in the distance. It’s bright enough that the whole valley is bathed in an eerie crimson, and she shudders as she looks towards the forest and the darkness waiting to greet her.

She still has time. Her sister is already in front of the fire, needlework in hand, humming again like she is prone to do since her recovery. Their mother reads, glasses perched on the end of her nose to make her look far older than she is, and Y/N smiles as she sits between them, letting the warmth of the firelight wash over her.

“You should take the rest of those apples to the market tomorrow,” Mother says quietly, and she nods, even though she knows she’ll never go to market again. The apples will probably rot in the basket. 

The night draws on. Mother retires first, kissing her firstborn on the top of the head as she passes, before taking Emily’s hand and looking at her fondly. Y/N watches her go with a heavy ache in her heart, wishing she could say goodbye, and not just leave them without resolution.

“You’re still being quiet,” Emily observes, putting her needlework away. “What’s wrong?”

There’s a second where she’s not sure what to say. She can see herself spilling the truth, dragging a promise from her little sister that she would live her life, fall in love, do all the things Y/N would never get to do. But she can’t say it because then Emily would know, and she couldn’t bear the thought of her sister carrying the weight of that guilt forever.

Sitting up, she smiles, shaking her head. “I’m just tired,” she says, getting up to take over the seat their mother had vacated.

Emily watches her for a moment longer, obviously deciding whether to prod at the subject. When she makes her choice, she sighs, rising from the chair. “Well, I’m tired too, so I’m going to bed. Goodnight, Y/N.” She turns, then pauses before crossing the room to lean down and press a kiss to her sister’s temple. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Y/N whispers, tears in her eyes. If the younger woman notices, she doesn’t say anything, quickly retreating and leaving her sibling alone. 

She waits a while, watching the fire die out until there are only a few embers remaining. Once the red glow fades, she gets to her feet, making her way to her mother’s room first, and she finds her in a deep slumber, one arm slung over the edge of her bed. With a smile, Y/N pulls the door shut, moving to the next, and Emily is asleep too. She lingers for a second, wishing once more that she could say goodbye, but time is running thin, so she closes the door and moves on.

It didn’t seem worth the effort to take anything with her, and it’s easier to move silently with just her cloak. She fastens it at her throat and makes her way out of the cottage, careful to lock the door behind her, slipping the key into her pocket through habit - it’s unlikely she’ll need it again. Pulling her hood up, she walks away from the village and towards the forest, keeping her footsteps light and quick. Her cloak catches on the undergrowth as it gets thicker, and soon she’s picking her way along the narrow path between the trees, feeling more anxious as the darkness crowds her. Further along, the trees are so dense that the moonlight cannot penetrate their leaves and she has to slow to avoid tripping on unseen hazards.

Her destination isn’t all that far. The ground grows steeper, and she has to be more careful as she searches for the ruins in the dark. It helps that she has walked this path before, when she made her bargain, and she knows she’s there when she finds the first stone, stuck upright in the ground with strange symbols she traces with her fingers.

The ruins are empty and dark. Huge stones mark the circle, with some lying flat in the middle, almost like an altar. She doesn’t know what they once were but she can feel the electricity in the air, taste it like iron on her tongue.

“Hello?” she calls in a shaky uncertain voice. It must be nearly midnight; if she looks up, she can see the moon high above the trees. The wind rushes around her, and she shivers, tugging her cloak closed. “Are you here?”

Everything falls silent. A twig snaps, and she spins, peering into the dark thicket of trees between two of the largest stones. She’s about to call again as two golden eyes suddenly become visible, and instinct makes her pull back.

“Hello?” she whispers this time. For some strange reason, she doesn’t feel afraid, just apprehensive and uncertain in the face of something so unholy.

“You are ready to finish our bargain.”

She casts her gaze back the way she came, sorrow heavy in her heart. “I am.”

“The price was agreed,” he murmurs, golden eyes shining in the darkness surrounding him. “Yet I see tears in your eyes. Do you wish to take back what was given?”

Horror fills her, the image of her sister dying slowly still imprinted in her mind. She doesn’t want that. “I’m never going to see my family again,” she replies softly, wiping at her eyes. “Are you so unfeeling that you cannot understand grief?”

He chuckles at that, and she can hear him shifting around. “I understand perfectly.” Squinting isn’t giving her a clearer view of him, though her eyes are still adjusting to the lack of light. “You’re not afraid.”

It’s a statement, made out of curiosity, and she lets her shoulders relax. “I don’t think so,” she whispers. She’s uncertain what faces her, but it’s difficult for anything to overcome the despair at leaving her family. “Can I see you?”

There’s a pause, more rustling, and he clears his throat. “Have you ever seen a demon before?”

“No,” she answers truthfully, even as her mind conjures images of disgusting beasts and eldritch creatures.

He harrumphs under his breath. Y/N watches, unsure what to expect, and then he steps forward, letting the darkness melt away. At first he seems huge, and she hears the rustle of wings, but as he comes closer, he seems to shrink into a more human shape. He’s still tall, broad, rippling with muscle underneath a black shirt that clings to his skin, and the only things that indicate his otherworldliness are his golden eyes, his long white hair, and the two thick black horns curving out from the sides of his head. She sucks in a breath at the sight of him, and he stares at her with a hungry look in his eyes.

“Are you frightened now?” he asks.

There is fear but it’s inspired by a new feeling inside her, something raw and primal, something that’s telling her she belongs to this creature, and she’s not sure if it’s magic or him, or something else entirely. “No,” she says again, shaking her head this time.

His lips curl into a smile. “Curious,” he rumbles. “I knew there was a reason I answered the summons.”

The comment makes her frown. “Aren’t you compelled to?” He laughs, and it’s a sound that makes her insides quiver with need. There’s something strange about him that draws her in, and she takes a step closer to him, tilting her head. “Do you have a name?” she asks boldly.

He watches her in amusement, like he’s never encountered anyone like her before. “Geralt,” he concedes.

It feels more comfortable to have a name to use, though she’s no closer to understanding what is happening. If he didn’t have to respond to the ritual, why did he? The thought makes it out of her mouth before she can stop it, and the amusement doesn’t fade from his face.

“The ritual only binds the one whose blood is used,” he murmurs, closing the distance between them. “You are now bound to me, Y/N, for what I have given you. Do you understand what that means?”

Her mouth goes dry. “You take my soul,” she rasps, eyes watering again. “I have to die.”

There’s a second where he seems confused, and then his knuckles are brushing her cheek, wiping away the errant tear that escapes. “What gave you that idea?” She stares at him, puzzled by his words, and he’s suddenly right there, looming over her, one meaty paw cupping her face. Her heart is racing at his proximity, and she begins to understand exactly what he wants from her. “You’re mine now,” he repeats softly. “I will only ever protect you.”

“I-I don’t understand,” she breathes, lifting her hands to brace them against his chest, to stop him getting closer or just to touch him - she’s not certain which. He’s real and solid under her palms, and she’s surprised when she feels the dull thud of his heart in his chest.

“I’ve been alone for so long,” he hums, dropping his head just enough to nuzzle the tip of his nose against hers. “I was growing weary of solitude. Then I heard your plea…”

His lips brush hers, and she stuns herself by lifting her chin, allowing him to initiate the kiss. It’s not like she hasn’t been kissed before, she’s just never been kissed with such raw need, and before she can register it, he has her body pinned against his, held in place with a hand on her lower back. She can barely breathe when he breaks away to look down at her; his eyes are nearly black and it’s too hard to pull her gaze away.

“But you’re a demon,” she mumbles.

He answers in a gentle tone, almost amused by her dazed reaction. “I cannot help what I am.” His hand is around her hip now, keeping their bodies pressed together, and she can feel something hard digging into her belly. It takes a second for her to realize; her eyes widen, but she doesn’t pull away.

“You want me to be your companion,” she says slowly, acutely aware of how large he is. “For me to - to -”

Geralt smiles, and it’s a hungry smile, exposing his sharp canines. “Yes,” he confirms, voice thick and syrupy. “I knew as soon as I heard your plea. You are lonely too.”

She wants to be indignant at that, to deny it, except she has always been lonely. Once she thought she had found someone who she had been prepared to give her whole heart to, only for him to shatter the dream and walk away. Since then, her only duty had been to her family, and though she loved them dearly, she had never tried to be anything but the perfect daughter and sister.

“You see?” Geralt draws her back to the present. “You ache for someone to love you. To care for you. It’s why you were so ready to sacrifice yourself for your sister.” His hand somehow covers the whole side of her head, which should be terrifying, but she’s leaning into it, finding comfort in the touch. “You’re mine, Y/N.”

She nods, almost in a daze. He pulls back, taking her hand to lead her to the altar-like stone in the middle of the ruins, and she follows without question. When he sits, he drags her between his thighs, and the angle is much friendlier to her neck when he kisses her again.

“I need to hear you say it,” he growls, unclasping her cloak to let it fall to the ground.

Her eyes lock on his. The golden in them is nearly entirely eaten by black, and a rush of warmth ends right at her core. “I’m yours,” she manages weakly, suddenly acutely aware of the pounding of her heart and the blood in her veins. She feels like she should resist simply because he’s a demon, but she doesn’t feel any danger from him at all.

He tugs her dress up, slicing through the fabric that gets in his way with sharpened claws that are gone by the time he finds her flesh. Heat floods her face when he rubs thick fingers against her sex, and she flings out a hand to brace herself against his shoulder, leaning to the side as he sinks a single digit inside her. It’s thicker than anything that’s ever been inside her before, making her squeak and cling to him, and a rumble of amusement echoes in his chest.

“I’m not a virgin,” she whispers, suddenly in fear of disappointing him.

“Neither am I,” he replies in a quiet laugh. She gasps as he works a second finger into her, and she begins to think that if his cock is bigger than this, he might not fit. Somewhere in the back of her mind, there’s a part of her that rallies against the idea of intimate relations with a demon, but she ignores it in favor of his touch, gasping as he thrusts his fingers inside her as deep as they can go.

She can hear how wet she’s getting, and he can too, grunting his appreciation when his fingers come out glistening. When he pushes them into her again, she whimpers, rocking her hips to meet his movement, focusing on the fire he’s igniting in her belly. She’s felt it before, just not this powerful, like she’s forgotten how to breathe, and before she can vocalize the pleasure, her pussy clenches and she’s dripping down his wrist. He moans, almost covering the squelch of his fingers as they keep sinking into her over and over, forcing her to ride out every wave of her orgasm until he’s satisfied she’s done.

He withdraws, allowing her to rest as he tears his shirt off, but her attention has moved to the bulge in his pants. Reaching out, she brushes her fingers against it, looking up sharply when he growls low in his throat and slides his hand to the fastening. His cock springs free the second it's able, and she swallows around the lump in her throat, still uncertain she can take him.

Her apprehension must have been plastered across her face. He catches her chin, forcing her to look at him, and she sees reassurance in his eyes. “It will feel good,” he says softly, taking hold her hand to guide it to his shaft. It’s warm to touch, solid under her fingertips, so she grasps him in her hand, tentatively stroking down then up, smiling when he moans. “That’s it,” he purrs, pressing his hand between her thighs again.

The intrusion of his fingers is familiar now her body has adjusted but he takes his time to open her up properly, bringing her to the cusp of climax after climax. By the time he is hauling her into his lap, she’s a panting mess, yet she still hesitates as he presses the wide tip of his shaft to her entrance, using his fingers to position himself. His golden gaze fixes on hers when he begins to drag her down, and for a moment, she’s convinced he’ll break her, then the first inch is in and she practically begs for the rest. He sinks up into her slowly, letting her pussy drench him to ease his path, and when he’s finally buried deep, she can’t breathe for the pressure in her belly. Her walls hug him tightly, cockhead snug against her cervix, and he keeps her right there, grinding inside while she can do nothing except accommodate him.

“How does it feel?” he asks in a gravelly voice that makes her feel like he’s holding something back.

“You’re -” She still can’t control her breathing, almost shivering through overstimulation. “You’re so big, I -”

“Hmmm.” He sounds amused, watching as she gasps and splutters, pressing her hands against his chest before sliding them to his shoulders. “Would you like me to move?”

She whimpers with a nod. “Yes,” is all she can manage, and he chuckles, putting his hands to her waist. The first slow pull away from him has her digging her nails into his shoulders, but her body is quickly acclimatizing and when he’s almost fully withdrawn, she only wants him back inside her. He gives her exactly what she wants, filling her again, and she cries out in ecstasy, drowning out his low possessive growl.

There’s an electricity in the air when he begins to fuck her, overriding her meager strength to manipulate her body until she’s almost out of her mind with pleasure. The intensity of it makes her feel like she might die if he stops, or if he doesn’t; either way, she’s craving more and more, and it seems he is more than willing to give it. She comes for him easily, easing his path into her slick channel even more, and she’s sobbing by the time she’s done, prompting him to slow just a little.

He growls as she leans back just a little, held in his grasp. “I want to see all of you,” he grunts.

A clawed finger tears down the front of her dress. The fabric falls either side, exposing her breasts, and Geralt doesn’t hesitate, curling his long tongue around one stiff peak as she moans decadently. She reaches up, letting her fingers slide over the horns either side of his head, tugging experimentally. It inspires a moan that vibrates out against her sensitive skin, so she does it again, using the slight leverage to lift off of his cock before sinking back down.

He doesn’t stop her when she does it again. His hands tighten around her waist, giving her assistance on each stroke, bringing her down hard until she’s stuffed with him again. “I want to see all of you too,” she whines, resting her hands at the base of his horns. “I want to see what you really look like.”

Releasing her breast, he meets her gaze, baring his teeth slightly as she keeps moving. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he murmurs.

“You won’t,” she promises desperately.

His grip on her waist tightens, forcing her to slow. She gasps, watching the slow ripple as he relinquishes the control over his form, whimpering when he pulls her down hard on his cock as it grows with him, pushing her to her limit. Large black wings sprout from his back, his teeth become sharper, and his eyes glow; he’s breathtaking and terrifying, or he should be, but she feels no fear, only the need for him.

“Is this what you wanted?” he asks, holding her down on his cock with clawed hands.

“Yes,” she hisses, panting and wriggling to relieve the unbearable pressure in her belly. He grabs her hand, pressing it down against her gut, and her eyes go wide. “Oh -” She can feel him, right underneath her palm, throbbing inside her.

“Like you were made for me,” he snarls, rocking his hips again so she can feel the thick girth dragging against her walls. “You’re mine.”

He moves before she can react, finding herself naked and pinned underneath him on the stone altar. His wings expand then contract, surrounding them as he slides down her body, covering her aching cunt with his mouth. She yelps when she feels his tongue probing her entrance, thick and long, wriggling, and it’s a new sensation that curls her toes as he pushes the flexible organ inside her. It doesn’t fill her like his cock does but it seems to touch every hidden part of her, and she can’t catch her breath, panting hard as she reaches a new high on his tongue.

She’s shaking from head to toe, yet he doesn’t stop, groaning against her pussy, nuzzling against her clit. The additional point of stimulation makes her reach down, sliding her fingers around one horn, and he snarls, fucking his tongue into her with a little more vigor. Her back arches at the unexpected force, and she can feel her heart hammering hard in her chest. She screams and writhes, but he holds her in place until he’s satisfied, and she’s boneless, eyelids fluttering as she fights the urge to pass out.

Withdrawing slowly, he climbs up her body, lining up his monstrous cock once more, and she feels like she’s looking up at a god instead of a demon. Her thoughts are swept away in the next instant when he cants his hips forward, burying his cock to the root inside her aching channel again. She falls apart in seconds, crying out until he silences her with a heady kiss. 

Time is meaningless. Every thrust sends her spiraling, raking her nails over his biceps as he claims her body along with her soul. She can’t think between bursts of ecstasy except for one driving need to feel him come inside her.

He growls as his strokes become sloppy, harder, faster, and finally, he buries himself as deep as he can, punching a choked cry out of her lungs as he spills into her. It’s hot and thick, and she groans as he keeps her still, riding out his orgasm and grinding deep until he’s done.

Her head rolls from side to side as the pleasure resides, though she can still feel him buried inside her, keeping his seed deep in her womb. He doesn’t move yet, coaxing her into a soft kiss as he remains with his wings sheltering them from the cold air. She hiccups a sob against his mouth, letting her fingers tangle in his hair, and when they part, she gasps for breath.

“Do not fret,” he murmurs, nuzzling into her gently.

She doesn’t feel up to anything like fretting at that moment, even as she looks up at his demonic countenance. Her limbs feel like jelly, and she’s certain she could fall asleep in the warmth of his hold. “Will they be alright without me?” she asks, because she has to know, and she trusts him to give her the truth.

He nods, kissing the corner of her mouth. “Yes.”

It’s all she needs. Her eyes flutter shut as she curls into his chest, contentment washing through her as the demon holds her close, lifting her from the stone to carry her towards the darkness he had come from.

When dawn breaks, all that is left is her cloak and a few tattered rags.

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