#Hotel de Charme

[merlinm196]

Happy pride month I did this for fun I also picked ships I like but don’t draw too often so enjoy

1 Paige/billie bisexual charmed

2 Chaggie Charlie (bisexual) / Vaggie (lesbian) Hazbin Hotel

3 Laszlo/Nadja straight presenting couple but both pansexual and polyamorous

4 Ineffable Husbands Aziraphale / Crowley I’m guessing both are demisexual and or gay

5 Harlivy Poison Ivy / Harley Quinn Poison Ivy is sometime presented as lesbian and sometimes bisexual depending on the story / Harley Quinn is bisexual

6 Nandermo guillermo (gay)/ Nandor (pansexual)

[leclercsredhelmet]

New in the Paddock ✧ Franco Colapinto

A/N: Hello! Back with another blurb for you all, this time it’s Franco themed because I’m just so happy that one of my f2 faves is on the f1 grid! (I’m still so sad about Logan) anyways here’s New in the Paddock with a Hispanic reader! I hope you all enjoy reading this one <3 This was inspired by Enchanted by Taylor Swift!

“These are the words I held back as I was leaving too soon, I was enchanted to meet you”

Being back in Italy has you buzzing with happiness, it’s been quite a few years since you’ve been back in the country. Yesterday you’d spent the day sightseeing and doing light shopping in Milan. This is your first big job opportunity fresh out of university and you’re extremely excited for what lies ahead. Once your alarm rang you leapt out of bed and opened the curtains. Music plays from the phone that sits atop the dresser, as you pass by the window you smile at the crowd of Tifosi chanting and you notice Charles signing their things. Smiling, you walk towards your suitcase and take out the outfit you had laid out last night.

Heading to the bathroom you change into a pair of jeans, a white tee, and a white and blue embroidered vest paired with your usual gold jewelry and white sneakers. Applying the last touch-ups to your makeup you grab your brown Longchamp bag and check that all the contents are there before grabbing your passes and the room key from the dresser. Locking the door you head towards the elevator. Looking around the hotel lobby you notice the flurry of staff getting ready to head out. You spot some drivers heading out and want to ask for pictures but you’re nervous and want to remain professional.

Briefly, you catch a glance of Franco Colapinto as he passes by in front of you and he offers a small smile once you lock eyes. Shyly you smile and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. Noticing your phone is starting to ring, you pick it up. Your mother’s face greets you on the other line with a proud smile. Smiling you lift the phone to an appropriate angle so she can see your face.

“Hola mi amor, ¿qué tal te va el primer día de trabajo?” she asks and you smile.

(Hi my love, how is your first day of work going?) “Hola ma, muy bien hasta ahora, estoy esperando a mis compañeros para tomar la guagua al circuito” you reply.

(Hi mom, very good so far, I’m waiting for my coworkers to take the car to the circuit)

“Bueno espero que todo te vaya muy bien y voy a estar al pendiente de las redes a ver si te veo entrevistando a alguien!” she beams and you giggle.

(I hope it goes very well and I’ll be tuning into social media to see if you interview someone!)

“Oye y no has visto al chico de Argentina que sustituye a Sargeant? (Oh, have you seen the young man from Argentina that’s substituting Sargeant?)

“Acabo de ver a Franco hace algunos segundos, no hablamos pero me sonrió ,” you reply. (I just saw Franco a few seconds ago, we didn’t talk but he smiled at me)

“Esperemos que te toque entrevistar a Franco, se ve como un chico adorable y se que es de tus favoritos,” she says. (Let’s hope that you get to interview him, he seems like a charming young man and I know he’s one of your favorites)

Smiling you reply, “Eso espero mamá bueno te voy a dejar porque ya vienen los compañeros de trabajo, hablamos luego. Te amo!” you say. (I hope so, mom. I’ll have to leave you because my coworkers are arriving, we’ll talk later. I love you!) “Yo tambien amor, exito hoy!” (I love you too, good luck today!)

Putting your phone away you stand up and introduce yourself to the rest of the crew that hasn’t met you yet. Smiling, they start chatting with you as you walk towards the van that’s already waiting for everyone. Climbing in you take a seat by the window and adjust the passes around your neck, you run your thumb over the black and purple media pass supplied by Formula One and look at your picture and credentials before smiling. “The first day on the job is a little overwhelming but you’ll be fine,” one of your coworkers says. You smile, “Yeah it’s starting to feel like it,” you say with a little chuckle. Everyone smiles, “Lucky for you, we’re not leaving you to your own devices on the first day so the nerves will ease,” someone else reassures.

“It’s more like anxiety but thank you. I just want to be great at the job and have fun. It’s a little hard to believe this is happening and it’s not a dream,” you add with a little chuckle. “It’s pretty surreal but you’re going to enjoy it,” the woman says. “I’m Christine by the way,” she says, outstretching her hand for you to shake. Smiling, you shake it, “Y/N it’s a pleasure to meet you, I’ve seen you race in Dakar,” you reply. Quickly you fall into conversation with everyone and get to know them. Fans line the sides with merch and excitedly wave to every car that passes, there’s a lot of Tifosi and you smile.

“Are you hoping to meet any specific driver?” Roldán asks you. “Honestly mostly everyone but especially Charles, Lewis, and Franco,” you answer. “You should ask them for a signature or picture once you can, they’ll be happy to do it,” he says and you smile. Once the car parks you gather your things and leave the car. Adjusting your passes you walk with them and greet the workers in Italian.

Deciding to film such an important moment for you, you put an Airpod on and open Tiktok. Filming your feet heading towards the paddock, you pan up, show the entrance, and film the moment you scan your pass and walk in before capturing your reaction. Quickly you save the video and press play on one of your playlists. There’s press so of course some pictures of you are taken and you smile at the cameras. The nerves have eased significantly and now you’re just happy to be here. Picking up your pace you join Christine and Melissa and resume the previous conversation.

The paddock is quite busy but it’s all team staff, drivers, media, and other personnel. Given the news that broke earlier this week about Franco replacing Logan in Williams, everyone wants a shot at interviewing the young driver from Argentina. Making it into the media room you sit next to your coworkers and immediately begin to work. Sipping some water from your bottle you review your notes and wait for the assignments to be handed out. “And this next one is for Y/N, you have Franco in the media pen,” Melissa says. Feeling your cheeks flush, you smile and nod, “My very first interview with and it’s with one of my favorites this is crazy,” you comment and everyone chuckles.

Quickly you start to prepare by jotting down a few questions and getting into the work mode headspace. When it’s time to start heading to the paddock everyone filters out towards the media pen. At the media pen, you get settled with the in-ear monitors and microphone. Christine decides to film the moment which makes you chuckle and wave at the camera. “You got this, you look great” she encourages and you thank her. The drivers start to come out and you ask questions to a few such as Max Verstappen, Alex Albon, and George Russell. You spot Franco approaching you and you discreetly adjust your shirt.

“¡Hola, ¿qué tal Franco?” ”Soy Y/N y estoy con DAZN!” you say in your native language and he smiles. (Hi Franco, how are you? I’m Y/N and I'm with DAZN) “Hola, muy bien ¿y vos?” he replies smiling. (Hi, I’m very good and you?) You smile back, “Todo bien,” you reply. “Es un gusto conocerte, tenés un acento bonito, ¿de donde sos?” he asks. (It’s a pleasure to meet you, you have a pretty accent, where are you from?)

The question makes you blush a little and you chuckle, Franco smiles. “¡Puerto Rico!” you reply. “Ah! Muero por visitar, es un país muy bonito,” he replies. (I'm dying to visit, its' a pretty country)

“Lo es, bueno primero que nada ¿cómo te sientes al debutar en la fórmula uno?” you ask. (It is, first of all, how do you feel about your formula one debut?) “Gracias por la pregunta, estoy en una nube todavía, es una gran oportunidad y estoy muy feliz y emocionado” you smile at him and continue to ask questions. (Thank you for the question, I’m still on a cloud, it’s a great opportunity and I’m very happy and excited)

He’s been a little flirty but you chalk it up to be the Argentinian charm and once the interview ends you thank him again and he chats with you off-camera before going off. Being busy with work makes the day roll by and when it’s time to get some lunch you decide to go off on your own and join everyone else later. Heading out of the media room you walk around and pass the Ferrari motorhome, smiling you decide to take a picture of it and marvel at how amazing and fulfilling it feels to finally see all your hard work pay off.

The years away from home, while you studied to chase your dream, are finally paying off. It happens to be your lucky day because you spot Charles and Lewis walking. Politely you go over to them and ask for pictures and signatures, “You must be new, I haven’t seen you before,” Lewis comments. Smiling you nod, “Actually, I’m fresh out of university!” You beam and they smile kindly. “In that case welcome to the paddock Y/N,” Charles says. “Hopefully we see more of you in the media pen,” Lewis adds and you smile and nod. “Thank you both for the pictures, I can’t wait to see you both in red next year,” you say. Grinning, they bid goodbye to you and you head in search of food.

Spotting a stand making pasta you stand in line and once it’s your turn you order and pay. With your food in one hand and phone in the other you reply to some messages from friends. As you reply to the messages you lose sense of direction and collide against someone’s chest. Your phone, bag, and sadly your food all fall to the ground, and embarrassment floods over you since a few passersby witness the incident.

“Disculpame, no me di cuenta,” a familiar voice says. (Sorry, I wasn't aware) You lock eyes with Franco, “No, discúlpame tú, fue culpa mía. Estaba en el celular y no estaba al pendiente” you apologetically say. (No, I’m sorry, it was my fault. I was using my cellphone and wasn’t aware)

The young driver chuckles and bends down to help you pick up your things. His fingers brush yours as he hands you back your phone, “Escuchás a Taylor Swift?” he asks. (Do you listen to Taylor Swift?)

Smiling you nod, “Si, soy swiftie,” you say. (Yes, I’m a swiftie!)“¡Yo también! ¿Pudiste ir a algún recital?” he asks you. (Me too! Did you manage to go to a concert?)

“¡Si, fui a la última noche de Londres!” you reply. (Yes, I went to the last London show!) ¿Cómo te sentiste sin tener el anuncio de Reputation?” he asks with a laugh. (How did you feel about not getting the Reputation announcement?) Giggling, you adjust your bag, “Me sentí como toda una payasa,” you reply and he laughs. (I felt like a total clown)

Fran walks with you to a nearby bin and you toss the pasta and napkins. “Me siento re mal que perdiste toda tu comida por mi culpa, dejame comprarte otra,” he offers. (I feel so bad that you lost all your food because of me. Let me buy you another one.) “No, está bien no te preocupes,” you reply. (No it’s fine don’t worry)

“Por favor déjame hacerlo, me siento mal que ya en mi primer día acá accidentalmente le he tirado la comida a alguien al suelo,” he says. (Please let me do it, I feel bad that on my first day, I already dropped someone’s food by accident) You giggle, “Ay no te sientas mal, son los nervios del primer día,” you say. (Oh no, don’t feel bad, it’s the first-day jitters)

Franco chuckles in agreement, “Es tu primer día también?” he asks. (Is it your first day too?)“Ajá, me gradué hace unos meses,” you reply. (Mhm, I graduated a few months ago) “Felicitaciones, con más razón tengo que pagarte la comida,” he says and you laugh. (Congratulations, with all the more reason I should pay for your food)

Franco looks over at you and smiles, you smile back and tuck a rogue curl behind your ear. As you stand in line you chat and your stomach flutters every time you catch him looking at you. Both of you order food and he pays for your meals, walking back you’re careful to not drop it or bump into each other again. “Gracias por la comida pero probablemente debo ir a sala de medios,” you say as you start to walk away. (Thanks for the food, but I should probably head towards the media room)

Franco reaches for your hand and stops you, “Quizás esto es muy atrevido pero podés conmigo acá en el motorhome de Williams,” he pauses and looks at you. (Maybe this is a little too bold but you can eat with me at the Williams motorhome)

“Solo si quieres, si no pues esta bien,” he quickly adds. (But only if you want to) You smile at his sweet demeanor and he nods, “Okay, acepto la invitacion Colapinto,” you say and he laughs. (Okay, I accept the invitation Colapinto) “Franco por favor,” he sweetly says. (Franco, please) “Acepto la invitación, Franco,” you add and he laughs. (I accept the invitation, Franco)

Franco leads the way and you go up to the floor in the motorhome reserved for the staff and into his driver's room. “Bueno, almuerzo de primerizos entonces,” he says and you laugh. (Well then this is the lunch of first-timers) “Primerizos que se tropezaron en el paddock,” you joke and he laughs. (First-timers that stumbled upon each other in the paddock) You eat in comfortable silence and after you finish you talk and joke around. He’s made you laugh so much you started to cry and your stomach hurts.

“Me di cuenta de que tenés buen italiano, ¿viviste en Italia?” he asks. (I noticed that you have great Italian, did you live in Italy?) “Solo unos meses, hice un internado en Italia y regresé a España,” you say. (Just for a few months, I did an internship in Italy and returned to Spain) “También lo estudié un poco en secundaria y seguí practicando por mi propia cuenta,” you answer. (I also studied it in high school and kept practicing it)

“¿Cómo es que ambos somos tan parecidos ya?” he comments and you nod in agreement. (How is it that we already have so many similarities?) “Lastima que España es tan grande, si te hubiera conociera antes, habríamos salido o algo,” he adds and you blush. (It’s a shame that it’s so big, if we had met before we would’ve gone out or something) “Quizás hubiese sido una probabilidad,” you say with a little laugh. (Perhaps it could’ve been a probability)

You continue talking and decide to exchange numbers, Franco insists on walking you to the media room. Once you reach it he stops and turns to you, “Fue un placer Y/N, espero no volver a tirarte la comida,” he comments and you laugh. (It was a pleasure Y/N, I hope to not be the cause of you losing your food again)

“Bueno, pero si no pasaba entonces no hubiésemos tenido el almuerzo de primerizos juntos,” you reply attempting your best to flirt back. (But if it hadn’t happened we wouldn’t have eaten lunch together) He smiles, “Tenés razón, esperemos que no sea la última,” he says. (You’re right, let’s hope that it’s not our last time) “Hagamos algo, yo pago el almuerzo en la próxima semana de carrera,” you propose while stretching out your hand. (Let’s do something, I’ll pay for our lunch on the next race week)

Franco shakes it and little jolts run up your body, “Trato hecho, nos vemos pronto Y/N” he says. (It’s a deal, we’ll see each other soon Y/N) Hearing him say your name delicately makes you smile and blush, “Buena suerte mañana, se que vas a demostrar lo bueno que eres en pista,” you say. Franco blushes and gives you a friendly wink and hug before walking away. (Good luck tomorrow, I know you’re gonna prove just how good you are on track)

Blushing, you head inside and greet your coworkers, they notice your blush but don’t ask anything until Melissa points it out. You tell them a little about the encounter and continue to work until it’s time to go.

Once in the hotel room, you call your mom to debrief before showering and after you come out you find a text from Franco and decide to reply. This leads to you two talking for a few hours until you have to call it a night and get some much-needed rest for the hectic weekend that awaits you both.

You were absolutely enchanted to have met him after a slight mishap but it proved to be quite a turnaround.

(all photo credits go to the respective owners)

[hrrtshape]

　　 THE ROLES IN MY FAME DR. . .

quiet, quiet !!! centre stage, lights dimmed, audience hushed. my fame dr is essentially me winning the metaphorical acting olympics while everyone else is still lacing up their shoes. it’s, like, a line-up of roles so iconic, so overpowered, it’s like i’m thanos snapping my way through hollywood history. i wanted the cookie, and i baked the whole bakery.

here’s the rundown.....each role is a slice of cinematic perfection, OKAY, served with a side of "how does she do it? why does she do it?? how many oscars do you need??" energy.

　꒰ 2002. . . ' PONETTE ' as ponette. — picture a four-year-old (shut up) absolutely devastating audiences, grappling with grief and holding onto the wisp of hope that her mom might waltz back from the afterlife. tiny me..... heartbreaking. oscar-worthy. a pint-sized tour de force !!!

　꒰ 2006. . . ' LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE ' as olive. — quirky underdog vibes. a beauty pageant dreamer dragged through chaos on a family road trip. big glasses, bigger heart. adorable chaos incarnate.

　꒰ 2007. . . ' LÉON: THE PROFESSIONAL ' as mathilda. — street-smart, sharp-tongued, and navigating grief and revenge. turned “child assassin vibes” into a genre.... unlikely bond with a hitman? groundbreaking.

　꒰ 2008. . . ' ATONEMENT ' as briony tallis. — precocious young writer turned accidental chaos agent. one little misunderstanding, and boom !! tragedy for everyone. the literary girls wept.

　꒰ 2009. . . ' TRUE GRIT ' as mattie ross. — fearless teen avenger with a rifle and a vengeance. sharp-tongued, sharp-shooting. unstoppable.

　꒰ 2011. . . ' LOLITA ' as lolita /// dolores haze. — a beguiling and precocious girl cloaked in innocence but steeped in rebellion, a mix of youthful charm and intoxicating danger. made everyone very uncomfortable because it wasn't directed by a pervert but instead an actual person who understood the book !!

　꒰ 2012. . . ' MOONRISE KINGDOM ' as suzy. — whimsical runaway girl with a suitcase full of records and big dreams, embarking on an adventurous and heartfelt runaway journey with her first love.

　꒰ 2013. . . ' BLACK SWAN ' as nina sayers. — the drama. the descent into madness on the basis of perfection. a ballerina teetering on the edge of perfection and chaos.

　꒰ 2014. . . ' THE GRAND BUDAPEST HOTEL ' as agatha. — the sweet baker who saves the day in a pastel-hued, heist-filled fever dream. you could say i was the cinnamon roll that held the plot together.

　꒰ 2015. . . ' CINDERELLA ' as cinderella. — glass slippers, big dreams, unapologetic faith in the universe. cottagecore princess moment.

　꒰ 2017. . . ' LADY BIRD ' as christine "lady bird" mcpherson. — high school angst meets big-city dreams. small-town girl, big personality, fiercely independent. greta gerwig girlies cheered.

　꒰ 2019. . . ' ROMEO AND JULIET ' (dir. sofia coppola) as juliet. — tragic romance, youthful rebellion, a modernised shakespearean masterpiece. the english teachers are obsessed.

　꒰ 2019. . . ' ONCE UPON A TIME IN HOLLYWOOD ' as sharon tate. — an enchanting actress and rising star, embodying the golden glow of hollywood’s bygone era with grace and optimism.

　꒰ 2019. . . ' LITTLE WOMEN ' as amy march. — ambitious, artistic, unapologetically confident. justice for amy achieved!!!

　꒰ 2019. . . ' STRANGE COLOURS ' (dir. david lynch) as naste. — struggling sculptor in post-war 1950s paris, whose pursuit of success leads her to morally complex decisions in a crime and punishment-inspired tale.

　꒰ 2020. . . ' THE QUEEN'S GAMBIT ' as beth harmon. — a brilliant yet troubled chess prodigy navigating personal demons, ambition, and addiction while conquering a male-dominated world.

　꒰ 2021. . . ' THE FRENCH DISPATCH ' as juliette. — a cynical and enigmatic character in a whimsical anthology capturing the spirit of journalism and artistic eccentricity.

　꒰  2021 . . . ' PROFIL PERDU ' as josée. — a woman caught in a crumbling marriage, drawn into a web of intrigue and liberation when a wealthy magnate offers her a new life filled with possibilities.

　꒰ 2021 & 2023. . . ' SUCCESSION ' as lukas matsson's complicated girlfriend. — it’s giving chaos. it’s giving scandal. the girl who walked into the roy / mattson power vortex and made it just a tad messier.

　꒰ 2022 & 2025. . . ' SEVERANCE ' as helly r. — kafkaesque corporate dystopia, dual personalities, fighting against the machine. the drama of it all.

　꒰ 2022. . . ' X ' as maxine. — it’s sexy, it’s terrifying, it’s iconic. a daring and ambitious young woman pursuing fame in the adult film industry while navigating fear and survival in a horror setting.

　꒰ 2022. . . ' PEARL ' as pearl. — a dreamer turned unhinged by isolation and frustration, whose violent tendencies emerge as her craving for stardom spirals into tragedy.

　꒰ 2023. . . ' POOR THINGS ' as bella baxter. — a curious and eccentric woman reborn into a surreal world, exploring life with uninhibited wonder and self-discovery. an eccentric frankenstein moment.

　꒰ 2023. . . ' THE HUNGER GAMES: THE BALLAD OF SONGBIRDS & SNAKES ' as livia cardew. — capitol decadence personified. the symbol of privilege and mean-spirituality. as well as coriolanus snow's future wife.

　꒰ 2024. . . ' MAXXXINE ' as maxine. — a raw and determined character fighting to make her mark in a world that feeds on fame, continuing her saga in the x-pearl trilogy.

　꒰ 2025. . . ' FRANKENSTEIN ' as the bride. — a haunting and tragic figure, torn due to her her husband's newest project.

that oscar is practically monogrammed with my soul. engraved, embossed, bedazzled in my honour. if possession is nine-tenths of the law, that golden man is legally, spiritually, and cosmically mine. you ever look at something and just know?? that’s me with oscar excellence. signed, sealed, delivered. twice for emphasis.

also....dividers not mine !!!!!

[ghouldump]

003

lestat de lioncourt x reader

no summary because this is really short, but here is a small piece, since i’ve been lowkey neglecting this account 😬

“are you sure you want to do this, why don’t you come back when he’s awake-

“no-i can’t, i already have plans,” you lied.

“he won’t be too happy-

turning around you were already leaving out of the office, the letter of resignation on his assistant's desk. getting into your car, you lifted your sleeve, staring at the two bruised holes on your wrist. shifting your eyes to the mirror, you could see the same marks on the side of your neck.

vampire. he was a vampire, and none of it was for publicity. you were his makeup artist, you had been for some time now. the longest hire, due to his liking towards you. previously, he acted as if he didn’t need any makeup, but once you came into the dressing room, suddenly, he insisted he needed more glitter or lip tint.

you grew unprofessionally close, you had never been this way with any of your clients. none of his team ever confronted you because well, they were terrified of him, and it was impossible to keep a mua, until you. late night walks, sitting in his hotel room, talking for hours, you couldn’t deny, beyond the theatrics — he was incredibly charming and profound.

you thought back to that night, your heart was pounding, as he approached you. his pale skin glistened through the sheer cropped shirt. you leaned against your hotel room, watching as he walked from the elevator. you hoped to only tell him that he was amazing at the concert, but he had other plans.

hungrily kissing your lips, you soon found yourself pressed against the mattress, moaning loudly — when it happened. fangs emerged, before he moved his head to your neck, biting down. the pain was unbearable for a second before pleasure washed over you. pulling away, your blood dripping from his mouth, he began to kiss your lips.

you could feel your orgasm drawing closer, and before you released, he broke the kiss, reaching for your wrist. kissing down your hand, he bit down, just as you came. watching as he drank from your wrist, he pulled away, pecking your lips once more.

looking into his eyes, he spoke slowly, “get some rest, chèrie,” before you fell asleep. waking up, you had been dressed in pajamas, and tucked in your bed. gulping at the memory, you started your car. the adoration you held for lestat was turning into fear, knowing the possibilities of what he was capable of, which is why you were quitting.

you had to leave new orleans, to get away from lestat, and you had to do it before sunset because you knew he wouldn’t be happy.

“mr. lioncourt, for you,” he watched as his assistant handed him the letter, visibly shaking. taking the letter, he only read the first sentence, before the letter was caught up in flames.

turning around, he abruptly left, making the woman release the breath she didn’t even realize she was holding. she couldn’t believe you quit, although she was grateful you stuck around longer than most. reaching for her phone, she quickly texted you, hoping to give you a heads-up.

‘he knows, please tell me you’re leaving’

your phone dinged, but you didn’t hear it, under the steaming shower head. you had been driving for hours, finally stopping at a hotel in alabama. you would sleep for a few hours and get back on the road. you were headed to florida, perhaps you could have a fresh start there.

turning off the water, you wrapped the white towel around you body, exiting the bathroom. reaching for your phone, on the counter, your eyebrows furrowed at the message.

‘he knows, please tell me you’re leaving’

‘i’m not in new orleans anymore’

‘how far are you because neither is he,’ she responded immediately.

‘what?’

‘he nearly destroyed the office, and left, he’s coming’

the message caused a nervous knot in your stomach, as you sighed, unsure of how to respond.

“i reject your resignation,” he spoke, making you turn around swiftly, dropping your phone.

“lestat,” you began backing away as he slowly approached you, until you bumped the wall. shaking your head, you couldn’t believe your eyes, you had to be dreaming.

“you didn’t even think to say bye before you left,” he reached for your cheek, frowning as you moved away in fear. touching the scar from him feeding on you, he watched as you shut your eyes tightly, almost bracing yourself.

“you’re afraid of me, you have no reason to be”, he told you, shaking his head.

“you drank my blood-

“while we made love, an act of love, not to kill you, ma chèrie,” he said, as you kept your head turned.

“you-

“i love you, and i don’t want you to leave. it was never my intention to scare you, look at me,” he spoke softly.

“no, you’ll do that hypnotizing thing,” you said, making him chuckle.

“i could do that without having to look at you, i just have to say it, but i would prefer to stare at your beautiful face willingly,” he said, as you slowly faced him.

“i’d never do anything to intentionally harm you chèrie, i only wanted to pleasure you, the sensation of having your blood drank, is comparable to sex, and i wanted you to experience such a pleasure,” he explained, making you clench your legs at the memory.

“how can i trust what you’re saying?”

“you’ll have to trust my words, and the way your heart beats for me, the way your legs clench for me,” he said, stepping closer. staring into his eyes for a moment, you both leaned into the kiss. driven by lust and hungry, the towel was ripped from your body, before you pulled him to the bed, straddling his lap.

passionately kissing, you hummed as his soft fingertips pressed into your sides, holding you close. flipping you over, he moved between legs, as he kissed along your neck. wrapping your leg around his waist, you began to grind your hips.

“do you really live forever?” you asked.

“an eternity,” he smirked, reaching to unbutton his shirt.

“i want that,” you said, reaching to touch his cold face.

“baby steps, ma chér, you wouldn't want to bite off more than you can take,” he smirked, his fangs peaking from his mouth.

“my god, is it true-

“i don't know, everyone said it was true,” the two staff members shared a glance. before lestat’s publicist opened the door, their eyes widening at the sight. you sat straddling his lap, as you brushed the lipstick onto his lip.

“y/n, how was your trip?” you heard, making you turn towards his assistant. she gulped, unable to believe her eyes. you giggled, as lestat laid his face between your breasts, as he pulled you closer.

“it was great,” you said, laughing as lestat tickled your side.

“i assume you reconsidered your resignation,” she asked, as you nodded.

“we talked and were able to find a middle ground,” you said.

“oh, that's wonderful, well, i’ll leave you to it, we still have another hour before they will be expecting you, mr. lioncourt,” she spoke, as they backed out of the room, sharing a glance one more time, before going their separate ways.

your eyes, she couldn't get them from out her mind, solidifying your new identity. he had turned you, becoming his fledgling overnight, he would make sure you never thought to leave him ever again.

this was so much better mentally 😵‍💫 i’m quitting my new job after only 2 weeks 😭 and my mind has been all over the place, but i had already started this, and it wasn't going to sit in my drafts.

[cecilysass]

Happy Heart (-Shaped Hail) Day! Fic Recs for Rain King for Valentine's Day (or Any Time)

It's funny how in the fandom circles I tend to spend time in now, Rain King seems to be a pretty beloved episode: super shippy, romantic comedy, multiple fanfic tropes made canon.

When it aired, the online fandom's opinion of this episode was pretty mixed. There was a large contingent of fans who really hated it. (I remember this because I am 4,000 years old.) Season 6 had already been perceived as being too light in tone, and we'd already come off of a run of Triangle, Dreamland I and II, and How the Ghosts Stole Christmas. There was a lot of anxiety about the move to LA killing the show's dark and angsty feel.

Me, I always liked Rain King (and Triangle, and Dreamland I and II, and How the Ghosts Stole Christmas). And while I can identify the tone change in season 6, I don't hate it, nor do I think that the show really loses its darkness and angstiness (a lot comes back in the second half of the season). I'm also not someone who believes comedy is a de facto more stupid or less substantial genre than drama or suspense, so I think that's part of it.

Rain King has generated so, so much fanfic, and most specifically fanfic that zeroes in on this little fun fact: THEY CANONICALLY SHARE A MOTEL ROOM BECAUSE THERE'S ONLY ONE ROOM. Obviously many of the fics I'm recommending below are based on that premise. So here are my Valentine's Day recs based on Rain King. (Even though I think it's not actually set at Valentine's? Because the cold open happens months earlier? There's some kind of timeline hijinks, idk.) But anyway, it's the clearest Valentine's episode we have, so happy Valentine's Day.

Free Merlot at the Cool View Motor Court by Sarie_Fairy @sarie-fairy Scully tries a little experiment with Mulder after the reunion that gets rapidly out of hand. This is smutty fun—the kind of high end sexy times this author is really known for. Dating Kings and Queens - Baroness_Blixen @baronessblixen A pure romantic comedy style plot variation on the ending of Rain King. The agents discuss the last time they've been on a date. Turns out it HASN’T been so long for Scully. This is just so charming. 

Kroner by DM When Mulder finds out about the “flicked switch speech,” he deals with it in a flirty, somewhat less sentimental way that feels very in character to me. I like a fic with dialogue that feels like it goes a little unexpected.

No Big Deal by dreamingofscully @dreamingofscully Scully offers to help Mulder sleep in the hotel. This is UST, but deliiiiiiightfully so, and heavy on the complex feelings.

Can’t Fight This Feeling by mldrgrl  @mldrgrl A sweet and more subtle little feelings reveal after Rain King by an author who does this exact thing well. Also there is slow dancing to 80s music.

Time Enough At Last - baylorrific Absolute textbook classic one room trope, but it stands out for me because I like how it focuses on their mutual discomfort. They’re both so awkward here, even though it’s Mulder POV. I also like how the classic Twilight Zone episode Time Enough At Last is in conversation with what’s happening with the MSR.

There’s No Place Like Kroner - MonikaFileFan @monikafilefan You know what would make a “there’s only one room” Rain King fic extra fun? DIANA. Okay, okay, I admit I wrote this prompt for the exchange, lol, so of course I think it sounds fun. But Monika wrote the actual fic, and you don’t want to miss it.

Pillow Talk - Alelou This is a short piece about a chatty Mulder very carefully putting out feelers in the motel room after the reunion. Sweet and in character.

Land That I Heard Of Once in A Lullabye - leiascully @leiascully In Kroner’s tiny airport, Scully takes stock of where they’ve come from and where they’re going. I love this. It feels especially spot on character-wise for season 6.

All that Lights Upon Us - wonderland @amplifyme This is a very different kind of Rain King fic, part of a series, although it can be read alone. During the events of Rain King they share a first kiss, but this fic is about their conversations afterwards (Mulder and Scully, as well as Mulder and Maggie). Gentle affection, and the process of taking little steps towards one another.

On the Flicking of Switches - SisterSpooky1013 @sisterspooky1013 Mulder initiates an awkward conversation in the motel room after the reunion. SisterSpooky1013 always has her characterization shit together, but I think this is an especially compelling character sketch of season 6 Scully.

Break in the Weather - ATTHS_TWICE @atths--twice Mulder and Scully can’t fly out another night in Kroner, so they kill time by going to a drive-in movie. Honestly, this is just adorable.

Still Raining - Donna When Sheila sends them both a letter a few months later, she alludes to what Scully told her in the bathroom. This raises questions for Mulder.

Stop Me - Gina Rain A little seduction by Mulder in the Kroner motel room. It starts with her feet, if that’s your thing. But it’s not exclusively about feet, if that isn’t lol.

They're SOOOOO MANY great Rain King fics, so drop any I missed in the comments! And if you want to read my Valentine's Day recs last year based on Milagro, they're here.

[imninahchan]

⌜ 𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐒: leitora!atriz(?), oscar 2024, car sex, exibicionismo(?), dirty talk (degradação, dumbification e elogios), masturbação fem, manhandling, um ‘papi’, choking, tapinhas na cara, finger sucking, rough sex, sexo sem proteção. Termos em espanhol — te extraño (sinto saudades suas), mi reina (minha rainha) ⋆ .⭒˚｡⋆ ⌝

꒰ 𝑵𝑶𝑻𝑨𝑺 𝑫𝑨 𝑨𝑼𝑻𝑶𝑹𝑨 ꒱ driver roll up the partition please~

⠀⠀

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ───── 𓍢ִ໋🀦

A TENSÃO DENTRO DO CARRO É PALPÁVEL, teme que o motorista possa notar. E não é a melancolia da perda do prêmio, que você tanto cogitou que fosse enfrentar quando ofereceu carona a Enzo após a afterparty, que domina o veículo. O jeito que ele te olha, a cabeça levemente tombada, o sobrolho relaxado mas conciso, o cotovelo apoiado na janela, é a mesma mirada intensa que recebeu na primeira vez que dormiram juntos naquele quarto de hotel em Londres, depois do BAFTA.

Sendo honesta, não ia contactar o seu rolinho mais recente, o namoradinho da América Latina, de novo nesta noite. Os pés doem, o salto fino de marca francesa é lindo, porém te fez cruzar o tapete vermelho sorrindo por cima do incômodo. Isso sem falar na ladainha que essas cerimônias e seus pós podem ser — muita gente de nariz em pé e pouca música boa tocando. Mas muda de ideia com a mensagem que recebe, o te extraño, nena e a foto que ele manda de frente para o espelho. Vai buscá-lo meio que de imediato, nem mesmo põe os pés pra fora do automóvel pra cumprimentar seja lá com quem ele estivesse saindo depois da premiação. As intenções são óbvias, claro, muito mal intencionadas, acontece que você vem contendo a vontade o caminho todo, mantendo as aparências na frente do funcionário.

Por isso, se arrasta pelo estofado, chegando mais perto do uruguaio para cochichar um para de me olhar assim.

— Assim como? — ele ainda tem a pachorra de retrucar, indiferente.

Um risinho se expande nos lábios do homem, soprado, abaixando o olhar só por um instante antes de retorná-lo para a sua figura bem vestida no banco de trás do carro.

— Perdão — o toque quente da palma da mão masculina repousa sobre a sua coxa, por cima do vestido —, me perdi pensando em todas as formas que eu vou te comer quando a gente chegar no hotel.

Teria repreendido em voz alta se o medo de chamar a atenção de terceiros não fosse maior. Só dá um tapinha discreto no peito do Vogrincic, os seus olhos espiando pelo retrovisor para constatar que o senhorzinho ao volante não escutou nada.

— Relaxa — os dedos na sua coxa apertam de leve a carne —, não disse que é só um gringo que não sabe falar nenhuma língua senão a dele? — Inclina-se para mais próximo, a ponta do nariz roça abaixo do lóbulo da sua orelha. — Posso dizer as maiores covardias no seu ouvidinho, e ele nem vai sacar...

Você desvia o rosto pro lado oposto, mantém a mesma postura de quem não está escutando nada demais.

— Pensei que fosse chorar no meu colo...

A mão de Enzo escorrega em direção à barra do vestido, se esgueirando por baixo para só assim começar a retornar pro lugar onde estava. Não vale a pena chorar, o raspar suave da palma pela sua pele desnuda é arrepiante, se eu posso te foder com raiva.

Você tem de parar o toque despudorado ao senti-lo alcançar a sua peça íntima. O encara novamente.

— Então, esse era o seu plano quando me mandou aquela mensagem? — sussurra de volta. — E aquela foto... — sorri, ladino, como quem desdenha. — Você é tão puto, Enzo.

Ele estica um sorriso também, quase que em câmera lenta. O processo é tão sedutor que você se sente latejando entre as pernas, esquentando. O vê tornar a sustentar o cotovelo na janela do carro, a mesma pose de anteriormente.

— Gostou da foto? — te questiona.

— Não poderia ser mais canalha.

A mesma mão que te tocava a perna é usada para repousar sobre o peito dele, o cenho se unindo e os olhinhos do homem parecendo mais dóceis quando devolve com charme não fala assim comigo, sou um ‘gentleman’.

Você ri.

— Um ‘gentleman’, hm? — repete. — Um ‘gentleman’ não me comeria com os olhos dentro desse carro igual você está fazendo.

— É? — o murmuro soa debochadinho, e é ainda pior quando o flagra levantando o indicador e o médio no ar, como se quisesse te atiçar, antes de chupar os dedos na sua frente. — Perdóname — sopra a desculpa falsa, guiando os dedinhos molhados por baixo da barra erguida do vestido. É incrível, um excelente ator de fato, pois nem demonstra no rosto que está afastando a sua calcinha pra te tocar no escurinho do carro em movimento —, fue muy descuidado de mi parte.

Você permite a carícia, o afago circular que rege no seu pontinho doce. O peito se enche de ar, a atenção fugindo para o retrovisor mais uma vez. Olhando para o próprio reflexo da maquiagem afiada, forte, a neutralidade do motorista focado nas ruas movimentadas da madrugada. Quer se controlar, quer muito...

— Quê? — a face do uruguaio para pertinho da sua de novo. Os lábios finos sopram as palavras sujas, o cheiro de álcool emanando do paladar te faz concluir que, sim, para o principezinho latino estar tão impudente dessa forma é porque virou alguns drinks no bar. — Com medo dele ver a sua carinha de puta quando goza? — Está vidrado na sua boca, saboreia com os olhos, umedecendo os próprios lábios. A cabeça pende pra outro ângulo, feito ensaiasse o melhor para avançar num beijo. — Fica tranquila, tá? Eu nunca, jamais, deixaria ninguém ver a minha garota. — E cessa o carinho que oferecia, chupando os dedos apenas para colher o seu melzinho, e recompõe a postura.

Torna o olhar para a paisagem noturna através da janela. As luzes, os grandes edifícios. Ajeitando a lapela do blazer, igual nada tivesse acontecido.

Você acha que está mexendo com o pior tipo. Te arranca um sorriso, não pode negar. Arrasta de volta para a outra ponta do banco, mirando a rua, até chegarem no hotel em que está hospedada com a sua equipe. O cinismo masculino te acerta em cheio. Não pode crer na forma com que ele se despede do motorista, todo educadinha, abusando daquele olhar amável, como se não tivesse te masturbado no banco traseiro do carro. Cumprimentando a sua maquiadora no corredor, como se não fosse entrar no quarto contigo agora e acabar com toda a beleza que ela perdeu horas para desenhar no seu rosto.

Mas isso não deveria te surpreender, né? Não foi diferente em Londres, e não seria diferente aqui em Los Angeles.

O trancar da porta é suficiente para que ele te coloque com as costas contra a parede, cercando o seu corpo. Os beijos estão se espalhando pelo seu pescoço, o resvalar da língua molhada no lóbulo da sua orelha, na linha do cabelo. Uma mão apertando a sua cintura e a outra pegando na sua mandíbula com firmeza.

Pressiona a lateral do seu rostinho na superfície, ao te virar, os dedos hábeis indo de encontro com o fecho do vestido.

— Com jeitinho — você murmura —, é um custom Vivianne Westwood.

Ele tomba a cabeça pro lado, te oferece aquela carinha de complacência, um tom bondoso quando afirma ah, claro, mi reina, no entanto só faz deslizar a peça pelas suas pernas abaixo, o mais rápido possível, tal qual já planejava fazer mesmo.

A maneira com que ele pega na sua nuca, conduz seu corpo seminu pelo quarto é de alucinar. Tão cheio de si, tão dominante. Te leva pra cama, retira o blazer mirando a calcinha pequena — a última pecinha que te cobre a nudez completa —, e assim que põe as mãos no cós, você o contém com o salto apontando no peitoral. Esticando a perna no ar até afastá-lo um pouquinho.

— Vai me comer com raiva mesmo? — traz a questão de volta ao jogo.

— É melhor socar meu pau em ti do que a minha mão na cara de um estadunidense, não acha? — Retira o sapato dos seus pés, as mãos massageando a sua pele. E faz o mesmo com o outro. — Por quê? Não aguenta?

Você sustenta as palmas no colchão macio.

— É que se me foder melhor que da última vez só porque tá putinho — diz — vai ter que me foder bem puto nas próximas vezes também.

Ele arqueia a sobrancelha.

— Ah, então você quer foder comigo mais vezes?

A frase te faz arrepender de ter dito o que disse, trocando sorrisos com o homem, boba. É inacreditável o que ele te causa, a sedução com que desabotoa a blusa social branca, que arfa sob o toque da sua mão na ereção aparente sob a calça. Que vem por cima, o nariz roçando no seu primeiro, de olhos fechados, pra só depois deixar a boca tomar a sua. O ósculo estalado, molhado, lento. Capturando seu lábio inferior com os dentes, sensual.

Colocando a sua perna sobre o ombro dele, aquela posição que, com total certeza, vai te dar cada centímetro pra dentro quando ele se empurrar. O arranhar dos dentes na sua canela, as unhas cravando na sua carne.

Paira o indicador nos seus lábios, silenciador.

— Vai ficar bem quietinha enquanto eu meto em você, não vai? — instiga, alinhando-se na sua entradinha. — Eu lembro como você fica burrinha quando ganha muita pica, é bonitinho de ver, mas hoje não quero ouvir muito choro no meu ouvido, não.

Não vou ter que apertar seu rostinho no travesseiro, vou?, a pergunta promíscua provoca um belo sorriso tolinho na sua face. A postura se perde só de imaginar a possibilidade.

— Não, papi. — Foge da mirada alheia, sentindo as bochechas queimando.

— Olha pra mim — ele pede, suave. — Fala olhando pra mim.

Você obedece, o foco retornando para o uruguaio. Não, papi.

Ele sorri.

— Chupa — orienta, e, mais uma vez, você acata ao que te é instruído.

O indicador dele é abraçado pelo calor da sua boca, pela língua que lambuza de saliva. Os dentinhos raspam na pele sem querer no momento em que é penetrada tão fundo. Um choramingo vibrando na sua garganta até que tudo esteja acomodado no quentinho, apertado, lá dentro.

Enzo crispa os lábios, o cenho franzido. A expressão de coitado é pra zombar da sua, óbvio, fazer pouco caso da sensação de completude tentadora que te causa.

— Ei, o que eu disse sobre barulho? — te recorda. — Eu acabei de colocar, linda, não me diz que o seu cérebro já desligou...

Enzo, é só o som do nome dele que reverbera da sua boca. O chamado manhoso, um reflexo do prazer devastador que o entrar e sair demorado resulta em ti. Os olhos presos na visão pornográfica do pau afundando abaixo do seu ventre.

Mas dois tapinhas na bochecha são suficientes para te fazer piscar repetidas vezes, engolir a saliva, feito ganhasse consciência de novo após escapar do feitiço que te borra os sentidos.

— Volta pra mim, princesa — e ele alimenta esse ‘como se’, sussurrando. — Cê virou a lesadinha, boba, que não aguenta cinco segundos de pica.

Você ainda puxa o ar para os pulmões, quase pronta pra lamuriar uma resposta, só que a palma da mão dele é mais ligeira. Cobre a sua boca, te cala, acenando negativamente.

Dobra a coluna por cima de ti, chega pertinho até praticamente encostar a testa nas próprias costas da mão. O ritmo das estocadas aumentando absurdamente, profundas, fortes, tanto que o ruído dos pés da cama invadem os seus ouvidos.

Escuta também a sonoridade pornográfica que cada choque da virilha dele na sua causa; a respiração masculina pesar. O interior se fechando ao redor dele, pulsando.

— Vou te levar pra casa comigo... — A mão desce da sua boca pra segurar no seu pescoço, terminar de desconfigurar por inteiro a sua mente. — Quer ser a minha bonequinha, quer? Ahm? Quero meter em ti quando estiver puto de novo... — Olha nos seus olhos, intenso, os lábios entreabertos buscando por ar. — E feliz, triste. Pra tudo. Todo dia. Vai ficar tão cheia de porra que vai vazar por essa boquinha de filha da puta gostosa. — Acerta mais um tapinha na sua bochecha, dessa vez fazendo a região atingida arder um pouquinho, quente. — O que cê me diz, hein? — Retorna com a pegada no seu pescoço, soberano. — Nenhum desses gringos daqui sabem te comer direito mesmo, né?

[fics-and-quotes-andthelike]

The Makeover and The Makeup

Title: The Makeover and The Makeup

Pairing: Angel Dust x reader (Platonic), Alastor x reader (mentioned)

Word Count: ~1,369

In which Angel Dust and the reader get into a fight in the middle of a makeover session.

A/N: Part 3 of the Never and Always series. It’s super short, but I still hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Mentions of Val, mentions of de*th, Angel being suggestive, ooc Angel maybe

When you had first struck a deal with the Vees, they had treated you with something that had almost resembled kindness. They had showered you in compliments and praise, feeding you false promises and empty words of endearment.

It lasted for two days.

After that, you were fair game. Fresh meat. A new toy for all three Vees to poke and prod at while you did their bidding.

But then came your knight in blood red armor, holding his cane in one hand and smiling broadly as he greeted you with a kiss to your knuckle for the first time.

You had stuck to Alastor’s side ever since.

But although you were more than grateful for his rescue, you couldn’t help but continue to feel a little alone. Alastor had saved you, yes, and he kept you by his side, of course, but he wasn’t exactly one to share feelings or stories. 

He did, however, listen to yours. 

After you had shared a particularly brutal story having to do with a certain moth demon, Alastor had come to a quick decision and swept you away to the Hazbin Hotel. 

When you arrived, you had found a group of souls that were just as broken as you were.

Especially Angel Dust. 

While your brief time with the Vees was nothing compared to Angel’s ongoing experience with Valentino, he seemed to appreciate that you had some semblance of understanding about what it meant to be Valentino’s target.

Meanwhile, you were just happy to find that you weren’t the only soul foolish enough to fall for the moth demon’s charms.

Ever since the two of you had found out about your shared past, Angel had practically taken you under his wing. He introduced you to Cherri Bomb, invited you when he was high strung and needed to go out, and confided in you when he had a rough day at work.

You had done the same, telling your stories about the Vees and your life Before and sharing your feelings.

The last point, though, you were beginning to regret.

“So he killed a guy for you, huh?” Angel asked as he circled you, admiring his handiwork.

“That’s not what I said,” you protested as you looked at your reflection in Angel’s full-length mirror. 

Angel stopped walking and raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms as he looked down at you. “You really think Smiles left the guy alive? C’mon, dollface, you ain’t that naive, are ya?”

You flushed and looked down.

“That’s what I thought,” Angel said, smugness coating his words as he began walking once again.

You looked back up and glared at him through the mirror. “You know, when I said you could give me a makeover, I didn’t mean I was going to be your personal dress-up doll. This is the fifth outfit.”

Angel stopped beside you, draping his arm over your shoulders and leaning into you as he admired his work in the mirror. “You knew what you were gettin’ into, sweet cheeks. Don’t pretend you don’t love it.”

You did love it. It was fun to let your guard down for a few hours and allow Angel Dust to release his creative energy. Not that you would ever say so to his face, of course.

“Besides,” Angel continued as he wandered away from you and towards his closet, rifling through the many options. “Your first official date with Mista Creepy was a hit, right? We’ve gotta change up your style a bit if you wanna get some,” he said with a wink in your direction.

Your eyes widened. “That is not what I’m trying to do,” you hissed. “Alastor is my friend.”

“Uh-huh. Yeah, sure.”

“He is,” you insisted. “He’s been nothing but sweet to me, and I’m not going to ruin the friendship that we’ve built.”

You tried not to notice Angel’s grimace in the mirror. It was a lot harder to pretend, though, when he turned around with an uncertain expression on his face, holding a dress to his chest and avoiding eye contact.

“Look,” he said hesitantly. “I know he seems…”

“Kind.”

“Right,” Angel said, scratching the back of his head. “But I’ve been talkin’ to Husk. About you and Smiles. He says you should be careful.”

You couldn’t fight back the burst of anger that rose in your chest. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Angel’s eyes widened as he held up his two free hands in surrender. “I ain’t sayin’ you gotta stop talkin’ to the guy. I’m just saying-”

“You don’t know him,” you interjected, jabbing a finger into his chest. “You don’t know anything about him. I know he’s an Overlord, but he’s sweet and he’s kind, and he’s never done anything to hurt me. He would never hurt anyone.”

You realized your mistake as soon as the words left your lips. It was foolish of you to forget. Alastor was your friend, of course, but he was also an Overlord. One of the most powerful Overlords that Hell had ever seen.

There was a fire in Angel’s eyes as he leaned towards you. “He already has. He’s done it to all those other souls he owns, and he’s done it to Husk. I know you love ‘im, but he ain’t a good guy.”

You spluttered and stepped back, trying to ignore the blush that coated your cheeks. “I didn’t say I loved him.”

Angel’s eyes narrowed, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “You didn’t have to. I see how you look at him. It’s the same way I looked at Val before-” he stopped, looking down and away from you, shielding his gaze.

You felt your anger seep away as quickly as it had appeared. How could you have been so blind? Of course this situation felt familiar to Angel. You were a fool for not noticing any sooner. A fool, and a horrible friend.

Angel looked up, finally meeting your eyes. “I just don’t want you ta get hurt.”

You understood exactly what he was saying, of course. Alastor owned Husk’s soul, and despite never taking advantage of that fact when you were around, you had heard some of the stories from Angel. It only made sense that your friend was trying to warn you now. Someone he loved was already at the mercy of the Radio Demon. Of course he would do anything he could to protect you from the same fate.

You nodded, looking down. “I know,” you said quietly. 

You stepped forward then, wrapping your arms around the spider demon and squeezing tightly. “Thank you. For looking after me.”

For a moment, you received no response. Then, you heard the rustle of fabric as Angel dropped the dress that he was holding onto the floor, wrapping four of his arms around you and pulling you close. “That’s my job, toots,” he said quietly.

You held each other, a silent promise passing in between you as you gripped each other with all of the strength you could muster.

Finally, you stepped back, reaching out and grabbing two of Angel’s hands. You pressed them to your lips, one at a time, before looking up with a soft smile. 

“I hope I didn’t ruin the makeover,” you said with a gleam in your eye.

Angel grinned, reaching up with one of his free hands to ruffle your hair. “Not at all, sweet cheeks. Let’s get this show on the road.”

~~~

When Husk found the two of you later that day after searching for his usual drinking partner, he didn’t find two demons smiling together as they dressed up and pretended for a few hours that the rest of Hell didn’t exist.

Instead, he found two wayward souls on the ground, half dressed and half asleep, leaning against each other as they spoke in a way that only the closest of friends could.

They looked over at him, smiling and beckoning him closer, and drawing him onto the floor with them, where they spoke until sleep finally wrapped its kind arms around them.

They were still in the hotel, of course, but for the first time in a long time, these three souls finally felt like they were home.

Part 4 Here!!

A/N 2: Another part with more Alastor x reader is coming soon, it’ll be a continuation of A Dance in Death!! Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

Taglist: @severusminerva @anh4125 @midorichoco @rapturenyx @maybememoriesx @martinys-world @miyu-kii @axellovesalastor @mo-0-o

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

A Perfect Score - Epilogue | FigureSkating!AU

Summary: months have passed since the finals with no sign of Aemond, making you wonder if anything has changed | Word Count: 6k~ | Warnings below the cut~

Series Masterlist | Links to my Taglists: General Taglist | Aemond Targaryen Taglist

Warnings: p in v sex, daddy kink, oral (f receiving), degradation, praise, *a finger in the bum*, butt play, ass eating, orgasm denial, creampie, ass slapping, pussy slapping, face slapping

A/N: *don't get emosh, don't get emosh, don't get emosh* I can't believe it's really REALLY the end! I've had this idea for the Epilogue for AGES and can't wait for you all to read the last instalment of our figure skating couple <3 would die for them and hope you enjoy!

"Good, but bend your knees!" You shout to El who's still got her hands outstretched haphazardly, wobbling on the ice as others whizz past her, knocking her off balance.

She throws a middle finger.

Charming.

You laugh as she pushes off to do another lap, reaching down between your legs for the bag and pulling your phone out for any new texts.

Nothing, you sigh.

El makes you jump, bumping into the ledge, "Will you stop being a simp and checking your phone every two seconds? He's going to text you!"

You click your phone off, "I know. I'm just so impatientttt…" you whine, exaggerating your frustration.

El rolls her eyes, "He'll get in, bud"

"Ew, don't call me that"

"Besides, if he gets rejected, he could always be your new manager, pal" she grins.

"You're so fucking gross, you know that?"

She shrugs, a grin that spells victory, "that'd be kinda hot to be fair. Going everywhere with you to competitions, organising your hotel rooms, fucking you over his des-"

"El! For fucks sake" you whisper-shout, heat rising to your cheeks.

A few other skaters on the ice turn their heads in judgment, making your face burn with embarrassment.

"Gods, so uptight" El jokes, a mischievous grin on her face.

To tell the truth. You missed Aemond. In all aspects.

You hadn't had sex since being in Dorne. And you hadn't seen him since the hospital.

Even though you texted most days, after months of seeing him everyday, it was quite the shock to the system.

It felt like there was a hole, conveniently Aemond-shaped, that was deepening the longer you two were separated.

"Oof!"

You both look up, to see Floris on the ice, wobbling her way back onto her feet, grimacing, "I'm ok!" She reassures, pushing off to skate slowly.

You nod in Floris' direction, "Is she okay skating?"

"Yeah, the physiotherapist said it'd be good to get her doing things like this again" El replies, looking over her shoulder at her sister.

She turns back to you, "Your manager doesn't hang around here anymore. Not since Floris has started coming back".

You resist the urge to frown.

Coward.

“Got you”, El smirks mischievously, "will you tell me what happened one day?"

It was something you’d thought about for some time. To tell her, or not? Floris certainly didn’t know the deeper details, but you knew she would have had suspicions.

Aemond was obviously unbothered if such information circulated, having put a very large proverbial wall between him and Otto the moment he was discharged from hospital. And yet, it still wouldn’t feel right, airing out all the Targaryen dirty laundry like that.

Even if he said it was okay.

But maybe, on a deeper level, Floris and El at least, deserved the truth.

"One day" you promise.

The cold winter chill nips at your bones, even through the layers of thermal clothing you've got piled on, the thick socks, boots and an overcoat, it still feels positively freezing.

“Who are you texting, missy?” you tease, bumping El on the shoulder, shoving your hands into your thick coat pockets.

She flushes, from the weather or the embarrassment you are unsure, but she puts her phone away quickly, “Nobody, you nosy cow”

King's Landing Winter Wonderland, Christmas Market and trinket shops, though it's far too early for any of that, it gets the people into the spirit. Stalls line the market square with several of them selling holiday related items as well as food, with an ice rink circling the entirety of the perimeter.

The air smells of mulled wine, cooked meats and the laughter of families and couples alike. With their warm breath creating clouds of white with each exhale.

El has you excitedly tucked into her arm, telling you all about her newest boyfriend, who for all intents and purposes is both hot and a keeper.

Ah, so that’s who she was talking to.

"He's already talking about us moving in together! Before the end of the year" She says excitedly, but her face falls, "but…I don't want to leave you in the lurch paying the rent by yourself".

You scoff, "I won't take you away from good dick because of fucking rent" you smirk, "if you want to, go for it".

She arches her eyebrows in uncertainty, "You sure?"

You pat her gloved hand with yours, "very", you smile, "as long as he doesn't steal you away from me, I want the lowdown".

"Oh you'll get that alright", she laughs.

Having poked your heads into a few stalls, and several sips of mulled wine later, you smirk as El is glued to her phone. Again.

"That your man?" You ask.

She quickly puts it away, biting her lip, "Yup" she replies, "wanna go skating?"

You roll your eyes, "It's not like it's my fucking job, El. Sick of it".

"Oh come on! I won't have to use the kids stabilisers anymore!"

She gives you her wide, puppy-like eyes.

Ones you know you can't refuse.

"Fine" you sigh.

She is far too excited to say that literally a few hours before she was struggling to use her two flippers to stay upright on the rink. Nevermind going backwards.

It’s quite entertaining to see her drag you by the hand excitedly to the ticket gate.

“One ticket for skating, please! Size 5!” she beams at the receptionist, who looks like he’d rather be dead right now.

You furrow your brows, “One? Did you want to go on by yourself and I watch or-”

“Nope! Just you” she grins.

“Me? El, what in seven hells are you on abou-”

She shoves the skates into your hands and practically pushes you past the gate, waving you off, “no questions!”

You don’t even really have time to cuss her out/question the situation, it feels like your brain is in overdrive.

There, either hand leaning against the entrance to the ice rink, where the public are zipping around slowly, laughing, pink in the face, hand in hand, is Aemond. The familiar ribbons of platinum hair that have fallen from the hair tie, now slightly waved from the moisture in the air, sways with the breeze at his shoulders.

He has that slack smirk on his face, his tall broad form leaning on one side, ankles crossed with the low quality skates on, tapping the tip onto the ice.

Even in a heavy looking coat, his hair messily done up and pink cheeks from where the cold had been hitting them, he still looks every bit as handsome as you remembered him.

It makes your heart sigh to see him smile at you with that glimmer in his eye. Blinking slowly and admiringly at you.

"Hey, Princess", he greets warmly.

You almost drop the skates in your hands, the cold wisps of wind making you realise now that your eyes are all wet.

You're sure his name slips out before you crash into his arms, flinging yours around his neck.

He smells just like he used to.

And all those good memories just flood back at once, making that wetness behind your eyes form actual teardrops that line your cheeks.

You feel him laugh a little, one of his big hands on your back, "missed me then?", he prods in a smooth tone.

Fuck. His voice.

You didn't realise you'd missed hearing it so much.

When you pull away, to properly look at his face, he's still smiling, in that classic 'Aemond' way.

You're so engrossed with just looking at him, you nearly flinch when you feel his thumb wipe your under eye softly, wiping the moisture away.

His gaze softens, "don't cry. I don't look that bad, do I?"

Giving a watery laugh, you shake your head, "Just missed you".

His hand is still around your waist, inadvertently pulling you close to him so your hands hover over his chest, "Now, now, don't get all soft on me".

Your cheeks hurt from smiling.

"How?.."

Aemond gestures with his head, "El organised it".

"But…she's-"

"With her new boyfriend, don't worry. It's just us, princess" Aemond smiles, picking up the skates you'd dropped.

"For old time's sake?" He smiles.

And all you can do is blush and smile up at him like a little lovesick teenager.

It feels utterly strange to get back on the ice with Aemond again, even if it is a public one in the middle of a Christmas market. Even more so that he's not flinging you around in all sorts of twists and jumps.

But it feels nice.

Hand in gloved hand, you glide about together, catching up.

Alicent, you learn, has gotten back in touch with her long time friend. Aemond furrows his brows when he recollects that usually she's on facetime with a glass of Dornish Red in one hand and creasing up in front of her iPad at something her friend has said.

Aegon. Well, he's Aegon. Aemond's words, not yours. But he's working on getting a teaching qualification so that he can coach skating instead. It's nice that he was able to find something to use his skills for. Other than womanising.

"Had minor surgery on my nerves…they think it'll do the trick for some years, hopefully forever" he says as you weave on either foot.

"Well that's good" you smile, "does it feel better?"

He nods, "Oh and Hel has a new partner".

You look over quickly, one eyebrow poised, "And? Was I right?"

Smirking, Aemond has to resist the urge to roll his eye, "Yes, you were right".

"Yes! I knew it! I knew she was bi!"

You flush when some families around you look over when you shout it a bit too loud.

Oops.

Aemond tugs you to his side by your waist, humming in a kind of quiet laugh. A comfortable silence descends, just enjoying one another's company.

"I got in", he says suddenly. Stealing your attention again as your feet synchronise in short glides.

"Got in?"

"KLU".

"KLU? Oh my god-" you surge up, his face between your hands, but he doesn't complain, and kiss him fiercely, "Congratulations, Aemond. Oh my gosh, that's-"

You beam with pride.

And you can tell he genuinely loves it, by the way he blushes slightly.

"And" he goes on, his face close to yours, smirking at the confused look on your face.

"And?..."

He licks his lips before he speaks.

"I got a place" he adds, "and was wondering…if you…"

He trails off. And your face settles into realisation. Your heart hammering in your chest, like the engine of an old train.

He shrugs, clearing his throat, “You know, because we basically spent all our time together during the championships…”

You swallow thickly, "Really?..." it comes out weaker than you intended.

He nods, “It’s just out of town, not far from here really” he gestures in the vague direction with his head, the hand that’s resting at your waist dropping somewhat.

Blinking the emotion from your eyes, you swat his chest playfully, “Alright, Mr Moneybags”

He doesn’t laugh, like you expect him to, but he does smile at least. At this point, you seem to have come to a stop, your skates nestled between his to keep you both stable.

His darkened gaze just looks at your face. Studies it.

Like he’s opened a book and is reading through the pages.

When he looks at you like that, you can’t help but feel a flutter deep in your chest. It feels like he is drawing on you softly, like a thousand little butterflies have landed on your face, and are slowly opening and closing their wings.

You shudder when his warm, ungloved thumb brushes against your cheek.

“What?...” you smile at him affectionately.

He hums, a cloud escaping his lips as he speaks, “I’ve missed you”.

All you feel is the ledge of the ice rink press against your lower back and yours and Aemond’s noses brushing against one another as he presses his warm, comforting lips to yours.

He takes his time, moving languidly against your lips with a soft, wet beat, his tongue parting your lips as if he had been waiting all this time to taste you properly.

He tastes just as you remember.

A hint of cigarettes that he’s tried to hide with spearmint.

When you break away, you can’t ignore the warm feeling that blooms in your gut. In all the time you’d spent apart, you forgot how his lips felt on yours, how his hands felt on you, and how his mere presence around you made arousal creep up your thighs.

Gods, it’s been so long.

A blush creeps up your neck to your face, and Aemond smirks.

“Stop that”

Your lower lip catches between your teeth before you reply, “What?”

He leans against the ledge, caging you in with his own body.

“Blushing”

His voice lowers.

“Otherwise I’ll give you something to blush about”

The tension was thick as you and Aemond trudged through the Christmas Market after vacating the ice rink. You tried to lighten it by doing idle things like looking at the homemade ornaments on one stand, to sharing a cup of mulled wine between you, feeling the way the liquid warmed your insides.

That warmth was nothing compared to the way Aemond looked at you.

It reminded you of all those months ago, at the hotel, before the dynamic of your relationship changed. The way he used to stare at you from across the room, in what you wrongly thought at the time was out of disinterest and detest.

How wrong you were.

Shooting off a quick text to El, who you were sure was already back at the flat anyway, enjoying all the ‘assets’ of her new boyfriend, you walk hand in hand with Aemond back to his apartment.

He was very intent on showing you his new place. And your insides fluttered in anticipation, heat crawling up your neck.

His apartment was nice. Not that you expected any less. It was several floors high, showing a good view of King’s Landing and the bright, illuminated Christmas Market in the square below. Even from here, through the tall and wide windows of the living room, you could see the couples zipping around the ice rink, as you both were just a few moments before.

It had that ‘new apartment’ smell, but whenever you brushed past a coat of his or a blanket, it smelled like him. The walls were bare, but you were sure that Aemond would decorate when he was properly settled.

“Is Vhagar going to be coming here?” you ask, cupping the warm mug of tea in your hands as Aemond gives it to you.

“Maybe. She’s quite settled at Mum’s though so…I don’t want to make her anxious”.

You nod, “It’s a nice place”

“Will look even better when you’re here” he smirks, bending down to huff himself onto the sofa, “I’m sure you have better ideas than I do on interior design”.

You simply watch him for a moment, the warmth of his apartment making your previously cold hands feel prickly. Your fingers tap against the ceramic, the sound of Aemond’s playlist rumbling quietly from a speaker in a different room.

Placing the mug on the coffee table, Aemond exhales as your legs rest either side of his torso, moving to sit atop him with your hands stealing beneath his shirt, watching as his pink lips part for breath.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, princess” he murmurs against your lips as he leans up, his large hands squeezing your ass, moulding the flesh to his grip and eliciting a low gasp from your lips.

"Who says it's a game?" You whisper back, teasing him by brushing your lips against his, moving your hips on him and smiling when you feel him harden instantly.

" - fuck - "

You know he hates it, just hates it, when you smirk at how pent up and desperate he gets. But you just can't help it. Not only is it all too easy, it's just too fucking tempting too.

How easily such a large, overbearing and domineering man, can be subdued to a mewling, near-begging mess just by the soft movement of your hips.

"Baby, please -"

Reaching down between your bodies, Aemond outright moans when you palm his erection through his jeans, sitting against his thigh quite obviously. You tease your hand from the base to the tip, squeezing through the denim, seeing the way Aemond almost knits his brows together in barely-contained pleasure.

And any time he tries to reach up, to kiss you properly, you pull back, allowing him to chase you.

"Oh, fuck you-"

You yelp in surprise as Aemond lifts you, keeping your legs around his waist as he pushes his bedroom door open and dropping you onto his mattress. And before you even have a moment to sit up on your elbows, he's on you, kneeing your legs apart and caging you to the bed with his body.

"Can't fucking wait any longer - need you, baby-"

Fuck, even the way he says that has arousal pooling between your legs, the desire to push your thighs together strong, but weakened with Aemond's body keeping them apart.

He's so fast and rough, the way he unbuttons your jeans and pulls the denim down your legs, taking your underwear with it, that you feel for a moment he may have torn something.

He practically fucking growls when he he looks between you, his thumb teasing your clit, finally able to look upon you the way he's wanted to for months.

"Already soaked for me, aren't you?" He coos lowly, teasing your bud in sure, confident circles, before swatting your heat firmly with a wet smack, "such a good fucking slut for me".

You mewl, pressing your lips together, a flush enveloping your face at his words. It's been so long since you were intimate with him, it will take a few moments to get used to it again and fall into that rhythm.

That, and you can't help but flush in embarrassment at the realisation you've not shaved your legs, genuinely not having expected to see him today.

It doesn't seem like Aemond cares.

With a fist over the collar of his shirt, he pulls it over his head, showing his lean and well-muscled torso lit with a warm amber glow from the bedside lamp.

You jolt in surprise as his fingers pull you by your thighs further down the bed, a gasp flying past your lips as his tongue and teeth nip and kiss at the inside of them. The sensation bordering on pain and pleasure at the same time.

"You don't know how long I've waited to taste your sweet pussy, princess"

You have an idea, by the way Aemond mouths at the crease between your thigh and hip. But you don't say it out loud. The anticipation of his mouth so, so close without touching you where you need him most is agonising.

" - fuck - Aemond -"

Your back nearly arches off the bed as he flattens his tongue against your warmth, swirling around your clit first before diving into your folds to feast on you, his fingers digging into your flesh for leverage. The feeling of his grip into your flesh burns pleasantly as he tugs you towards him, your lips parting with hurried pants tumbling out.

Your legs tremble as his low moan vibrates through your core, electricity creeping up your spine as he laps at you with vigour, his sharp nose nudging at your clit as he moves side to side to eventually fuck you with his tongue.

For a split second, you worry if he can actually breathe.

But as your embarrassingly quick orgasm starts barrelling towards you without warning, it somehow gets pushed to the back of your mind, you reach down, threading your fingers through his hair, chanting his name as if it’s all you can say as he groans against your cunt.

His hands hold you down by your thighs, tugging you back to his mouth in soft micro-movements as you shake against him, head thrown back against the pillows with your breath hot in your chest, unable to catch it well enough to form any other sound than moaning unabashedly.

Aemond outright moans as you cum against his tongue, the lewd sound of him licking up everything that comes out makes a heat creep up your neck. But you can’t find it within yourself to be embarrassed. Not when he makes you feel like this.

You can feel the moisture on his face when he takes mercy, drawing his lips away to kiss and nip at the inside of your thighs again, giving one firm bite before he pulls away with a smirk on his face, no doubt happy at the mark he’s left behind.

Your eyes feel heavy as you lift your gaze to him, now perched on his knees as he pops the buttons of his jeans off, the veins on the back of his hand straining, making you feel somewhat lightheaded.

“ - can’t wait to fuck you again - you don’t know how long I’ve wanted be buried inside that pretty little pussy -”

You lick your lips as your mouth goes dry. He always manages to do that. Somehow turn you into a limp, mewling mess in no time at all.

Something you have in common, clearly.

With your heart beating erratically, body throbbing in the afterglow of your orgasm, that feeling is enhanced still when Aemond tugs at his length needily, his shoulders rising and falling with the desire to just stuff himself inside you as deep as he will go.

You can only watch in awe as his fingers wrap around himself, the tip ruddy and desperate, with arousal coating it with every slow and calculated fist. His stomach muscles clench and unclench uncontrollably, his chest muscles moving steadily with each deep breath.

It feels exciting, how utterly small you feel when he leans over you, once again grasping your legs to spread them before him. His long, thick fingers tease your slick folds, before he guides the fat head of his cock to your centre, watching with parted lips at the way your eyebrows furrow in both relief and pleasure as he stretches you around him slowly.

“ - ohfuck - ”, he moans lowly, sinking himself slowly into your warmth and basking in the closeness it offers, “ - fuck, baby, so tight for me -”

Being with him like this again is like sinking into a warm bath, with the rolls of steam batting at your face. And his words are so soft, they’re like dozens of little snowflakes settling on your face in a flurry. All cold and numb, and yet warm and fuzzy at the same time.

It’s completely instinctual, the way you turn your head, slightly embarrassed as Aemond holds either of your legs apart, his pelvis smacking against yours as he eases himself into a steady rhythm.

“ -aw, don’t tell me you’ve gone all shy on me -” he mocks, his eye glimmering with mischief as he looks down at you, “-where’s the needy, little slut I used to know, hm? -”

You gasp as Aemond pushes both hands down, pressing both of your legs towards your shoulders, bending at the knee so that he can kneel higher, using the new position with gravity to fuck down into you faster and rougher.

The new position has you pretzeled before him, completely unable to do anything but throw your head back against the pillows and turn bright red at the wanton, breathy moans that slip out.

“ -Aemond -”

“ - what’s wrong, baby? -” he coos, “ -is this too much for you? Hm? I know you’re more flexible than this -”

Fuck.

Each rough push of his length into you from this angle has the curved head of his cock brush against your sweet spot with devastating precision. With every thrust, the air seems to expel forcefully from your lungs, not helped in part by the fact that Aemond has your legs pressed hard against your ribs.

All you’re able to see through bleary eyes is the way he smirks down at you with his hair stuck to his tacky face, his chest heaving with hurried breath, and every now and then, his neck muscles straining as he tips his head back and groans loudly as you inadvertently squeeze his length when he bullies the end of you.

The air is charged, hot and humid. And you barely register the fact that music is still playing in another room, and that the curtains are pulled back. Though there’s no chance of anyone being able to see you both from how high his apartment is, it still makes your insides tighten that it’s happening so unabashedly with the city right below you.

His hand drifts down your thigh, watching as you squirm beneath him as he presses hard on your stomach, your eyes closing tightly at the feeling of him closing you around his length as it pistons roughly into you. He smiles slightly, almost as if he can feel how deep he reaches inside you.

“ -Oh fuck, baby - can fucking feel you gripping me -” he moans helplessly, leaning over, the sweat on his forehead slightly illuminated by the warm lamp’s light, “-does my girl like being a dirty little slut?”

You barely even register he’s speaking, everything sounding utterly muffled and just too much all at once. His low voice only serves to make that coil wind tighter in your gut, reacting to the way he never lets up his pace once.

You jolt slightly when he taps your cheek twice, a little rougher than you’d anticipated.

“ -I’m fucking talking to you -” he growls, moving his hand from your stomach up to bunch the shirt in his fist, exposing your pebbled nipples to the warmth of the room.

You nod helplessly, “Yes - yes -”

It’s all mindless babbling, and Aemond knows it as he grins, his eye flitting down to watch the way your breasts bounce as he fucks you.

“ -please, Aemond -”

“ -please what, hm? You want to cum, is that it? But you’re too fucked stupid to say it?”

As much as you hate to admit it, his words send a bolt of humiliation through you that does nothing but excite you, your core throbbing around his length with every calculated word he says.

"Aw, poor thing -" he jeers, "- I'm going to have fun with you-"

Wait what?

This isn't said 'fun'?

Oh shit.

Before that familiar coil can wind itself any tighter, Aemond pulls back, grunting as he manhandles your hips to turn you over and his palm cracking against your backside, smirking in victory at the mewl it gets out of you.

The skin there blooms with warmth, more so as Aemond’s tantalisingly hot skin presses against it once more, your lips parting in what can only described as a relieved moan as he slides into you again, his cockhead hitting the spongey end, filling you utterly.

"-Aemo-"

Smack.

"Not my fucking name, Princess. C'mon, you can do it" he purred, pressing his hand against your back, pushing against your spine and forcing your face against the sheets.

A choked moan almost slips out, with him tugging your hips up to him in such a curved position, his cockhead bullies your sweet spot, dragging his length along your sensitive walls, propelling you to an overwhelming orgasm.

"Go on - beg me for it or I won't let you cum-"

The idea of him denying you yet again when you were so close last time just seems utterly unbearable. So despite the humiliation rocking through your core with each harsh smack of his hips, despite the overwhelming heat of the room and most of all, despite your pride.

You do.

"Please - daddy - need it-"

If you could see him, you'd hate it.

Because he grins. Ear to fucking ear like he's wanted to hear it for months.

"Aren't you gonna beg me for permission to touch yourself?"

You suck in a breath, squealing muffled against the sheets as he gives another hard thrust. Clearly, despite appearances, on the verge himself.

"-can I - can I touch myself - please, daddy -"

"-fuck- baby, touch that little clit for me, yeah? - want to feel you cum-"

His voice is strained, pushing you with each thrust further and further against the sheets, your arms near giving out with the weight of him on you. With difficulty, your hand snakes between you and the mattress that constantly dips with how rough Aemond is being, and finds your bud, running the slickness that has collected over it, tying up your pleasure into two feelings.

Aemond’s lips part, staggered breaths the only thing coming out, as he feels your walls flutter around him, looking down at the way your bodies meet with a soft smack every time. You feel so warm and tight, gods he’s wanted to cum since since you started touching him through his jeans.

But now, pulling you by your hips to spear you onto his cock, he’s so so close.

Just wants to feel you first.

“-baby, you’re doing so well for me-” he breathes quickly, his gaze flitting briefly from where he’s pistoning in and out of you, to your sweat slick face, pressed against the sheets, biting your lips harshly as you pleasure yourself in tandem with Aemond’s movements.

As his hand slid down past your hips, his thumb tracing the bottom of your spine, you suck in a harsh breath when he softly grazes over your puckered hole, still fucking shallowly as if to tease you and him into teetering on the edge of a climax.

You're barely able to see behind you, pressed so hard into the sheets, but he looks good fucking you. His chest shines with perspiration, the chain dangling around his neck teasingly, and his abdominal muscles clenching and unclenching with restraint.

And then you see him smile.

"-oh? We've never done this before have we, princess?-"

Oh shit.

After all the exertion of your passion so far, your slick has easily made its way onto your thighs, so Aemond doesn't have to move much to drag some of it on his thumb and circle your hole with light, delicate motions, moistening the area.

Humiliation creeps up onto your face, eyes slipping shut. No guy before has ever really tried to do this. So this is uncharted territory. But despite the brief embarrassment, you have to admit that the feeling of Aemond ever so slightly pressing his thumb against you as he continues to thrust brutally into your cunt just feels new in the most amazing way.

His other hand still grabs the flesh of your ass, tugging you back to his cock in a frantic rhythm. The mewls coming out your mouth now sounding so unlike your own.

Aemond knows by the way your hips move up to meet his touch that you like it, but are too embarrassed to say.

"-how about it, hm? - you want me in both your pretty little fuckholes? -"

"-yes - yes, please daddy, I-"

Making sure his thumb is slick enough, your puckered hole also, he slides in slowly, using the palm of his hand to grasp whatever of your ass cheeks as he can.

You almost hear his choked moan.

"-fuck-, you're so tight here, princess - you gonna let me fuck it one day, hm? - you'd be so fucking good here-"

The batting of his cock against your upper walls has you very nearly sobbing outwardly, combined with the feeling of him in such a new place, pressing in, you'd forgotten you'd stopped pleasuring yourself. Completely embroiled in this feeling.

He chuckles darkly, crooking the digit ever so slightly, leaning over to press against your back "-you'd fucking let me as well, wouldn't you? -"

The curling of his other fingers on the flesh of your backside has him smiling at the sounds it emits from you.

“-did I say stop, hm? Keep touching yourself - cum for me-”

You know that as soon as you do it’s all over.

His voice, combined with all three feelings at once, tugging at that pleasurable spot inside you that has white, hot pleasure soaring through your bloodstream, has a long, choked moan filling the space between you. And you’re surprised to hear that the same sound slips past Aemond’s lips as well, the air of his breath batting against your neck as he tries to bury himself as deep inside you as he possibly can.

You’re trying to suck in breath without really realising it, the earth-shattering orgasm making your body go all rigid for a moment before you relax against the sheets, with the pleasant weight of him above you.

Everything feels warm. His bedroom right now feeling like a large blanket has enveloped you both. It seems a weird thing to think in the moment, with Aemond’s half naked body hunched over you, his cock twitching and pulsing, whimpering as he is still emptying himself inside of you and feeling the aftershocks through your fleshy walls.

All his micro-movements seem overly-sensitive. And when Aemond exhales, lifting himself off your back, lifting your lids to open your eyes feels like the most difficult thing you’ve ever done.

“-sorry-” he whispers cautiously as he pulls his softening cock from you, immediately feeling the warm rush of cum coating your inner thighs.

Warmth blossoms once again to your cheeks as he stays still, and you think he must be staring at the way he leaks from you, sighing in a sort of perverted admiration.

You don’t even have time to open your mouth before his thumb slips out your other hole, only to jolt in shock once it’s immediately replaced by his tongue. All those dulled out endorphins that were dissipating into your limbs feel like they all gather back, and you squeeze your thighs together, fisting the bedsheets so tightly they could’ve torn.

Both of his hands seem to find their home on each asscheek, spreading them so he can easily swirl his talented wet, muscle around your hole, fucking moaning as he does it. All your nerves ring semi-uncomfortably, overstimulation nipping at the edges of the pleasure.

“-fuck, Aemond, no no, please-” you plead, emitting a weary, exhausted laugh when he chuckles and pulls away, landing one softened smack against the flesh.

“-Mm- another time-”

Lethargy pulls at your body as you lay on your front, blinking slowly as you feel the mattress rise, pressing your lips together as Aemond disappears into the en-suite, tucking himself back into his jeans.

A moment later, he comes back with a warm washcloth, offering to clean you up. But you simply smile, pushing yourself to sit up, “I’m good”, you smile, with a flushed face, feeling slightly bashful after what you’d just done together.

One long shower together later, you lay in his bed, looking out at the city beneath, the cascade of brightly coloured lights littering the dark space between buildings. Aemond’s shirt easily reaches to your thighs, with nothing beneath, not having anticipated staying over anywhere today.

Aemond sighs calmly, his chin on the top of your head, pressed against your back, with one of his hands running through the tresses of your hair, every now and then stroking at your scalp, which has your eyes slipping shut at the pleasant feeling.

“Well, princess? Do you like it?” he asks, his voice all soft and tired.

You meet his lilac gaze, tilting your head slightly in question.

“The apartment”.

“It’s perfect”, you smile, reaching up his cheek and running the back of your fingers over it, the scar tissue feeling slightly different in texture over your skin, “you sure you want me to move in?”

He blinks slowly, a smile rising to his lips, his hand coming to yours and pressing a soft, tender kiss to your wrist. And though not directly sexual, it makes your belly do little backflips, feeling so intimate and captivating that warmth floods your skin through his lips.

“Of course, princess. I can't do this without you”.

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard | @bellstwd | @blairfox04 | @hb8301 | @jamespotterismydaddy | @mochi-rose | @nenelysian | @natty2017 | @randomdragonfires | @risefallrise | @theoneeyedprince | @thelittleswanao3 | @tsujifreya | @urmomsgirlfriend1 | @valeskafics | @watercolorskyy

Aemond Taglist (1): @asp3nxx | @avidreader73 | @bellaisasleep | @boofy1998

[multific]

The Ink Under Your Skin

Vincent De Gramont x Reader

Summary: Vincent wonders why you never wear short dresses, he assumed you were covered in scars so he didn't ask. But then, one evening he realizes just how wrong his assumption was.

He watched as you entered his office wearing another long-sleeved shirt with long pants. The only skin you showed was your neck and your decolletage.

Even if he longed to see more of your skin, he knew better than to ask. 

The truth was that he absolutely adored you. Being the one to finish many missions for and with him the two of you grew even closer after John Wick.

And now, Vincent noticed the small things about you.

One was that he had never seen more of your skin revealed.

He figured you might have scars due to your line of work.

But he was dying to know more to see more of you.

He knew your flirting was only a game, but he wasn't sure anymore.

"Here is the coin you asked for and the extra." you said as you placed a briefcase on his desk. 

"Perfect. Merci." he said and you only nodded as he checked everything.

Everything was perfect, yet again.

"Do you have anything else for me? Or can I go home?"

"Go home, rest for a bit. I have an event coming up, you are invited. The event will be the opening of the new Continental."

"Oh, lovely, I shall go then. Will you text me the details?"

"I don't expect you to come as a member of my... ring. More as a date."

"Date?" now that caught you off guard but then you smiled and gave him a nod. "Alright, I'll make sure to wear something nice."

"And short." he said immediately and you looked at him in the eyes.

"Nice and short, you got it. Then, wear that black suit I like so much."

"I'll be sure to impress. The opening is tomorrow. I'll pick you up."

On your way out, you made sure to sway your hips just a little bit more. 

Only to impress him.

And he was impressed.

---

The next morning you received a text saying Vincent would be there to pick you up at 5pm.

You knew how sharp he was, so you knew better than to waste time.

You picked out your favourite short dress and got into the bath.

You did your hair, make-up and finally, you were all done.

When your doorbell rang, you quickly gave yourself one last glance.

As soon as the door opened, Vincent's jaw hit the floor.

You looked stunning and now, he understood why you were always wearing long clothes.

You were covered in tattoos.

Almost every inch of your skin was covered by ink.

Various things were craved into your skin. Many resemble you as a person, your likings but Vincent also noticed a couple of achievements.

"Ready?" you asked as his eyes never stopped roaming your skin.

All he could do was simply nod. 

On your way to the new hotel, you two sat at the back while his driver was focused on the road. You were looking out the window, looking at the people you passed when you suddenly felt his hand on your thigh. You looked at him but he wasn't looking at you. Instead, Vincent was focusing on his phone, so you let his hand stay near your knee.

All night, he kept staring at you, more than usual.

Normally you didn't care when people looked at you a certain way because of your tattoos.

But with Vincent, it did bother you.

You liked him.

Perhaps more than you should like a psycho like him.

But you weren't much better.

Working with him did rub off on you maybe in the wrong way.

But you liked working with him.

He was too charming for his own good.

And he definitely thought he was a lot more slik than he actually was.

He really thought he could be staring at you like that and you wouldn't notice.

But you did like to play dumb.

Men liked dumb women.

If you reveal to him that you knew about his attention all along, he would bail.

So, you played your part for as long as you could.

You stood out on the balcony, looking at New York when someone stepped beside you.

"Nice view."

"For me, New York is not that impressive."

"I wasn't talking about the city." Vincent said as his eyes roamed all over your body. "I never imagined you would have tattoos, let alone so many of them."

"Do you not like it?"

"I do." his reply was immediate, making all of your doubts fly out the window.

"I won't lie, I was a bit worried about your reaction."

"Why so?"

"People around us only have tattoos related to their work... I have my interests."

"Which is why I adore them even more." his hand moved to your forearm, letting his thumb run down the skin, he watched in adoration.

"I need to know Vincent." you spoke and looked up at him, your eyes meeting his. "I need to know if you are only interested in me so I would work for you."

"You already work for me. I don't need to seduce you in order to convince you to do things for me. I will say this, it is quite the opposite, I believed for a while that you were the one seducing me so that you could get more money perhaps. At least I know the money went to a good place." he said as his hand moved to your waist

"I'm getting a new one done next week." you smiled. 

"Perfect." he whispered as he leaned down and his lips met yours in a short yet sweet kiss.

Who knew that the ink under your skin would be the breaking point for the two of you.

Vincent Taglist: @l4venderia

Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster@capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak   @manduse   @jacalineiscomingforyou  @mandoloriancookie @noname2246

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS  

[pinegreenapples]

Radiostatic Fic Recs Part 3!

Hello everyone! I'm back again with a third installment in fics that I believe are great reads! A quick reminder as always, read the tags and if you don't like something, just tab out! The previous parts can be found here. Part 1 | Part 2

Finished

Sound Effect!

This is a silly little crackfic by the beloved ohdeercoffee! It features proto Vox who has been cursed to be a silent film where all his speech is shown as title cards. This leads to a misunderstanding between him and Alastor, but everyone walks away pleased with the aftermath.

Wallow

This series is heartbreaking. It had me shedding real tears as I read it. Alastor and Vox reckoning with the aftermath of their falling out and the mistakes they made that have cost each other everything.

Oh, I'm gonna be wounded/Oh, you're gonna be my wound

Alastor spends an evening devouring Vox as he watches through his cameras. They end up talking about some things afterwards.

Questionable Attachment

Alastor goes to Vee Tower to mess with Vox because he's bored. They end up kissing and Alastor finds himself consumed with the thought of kissing Vox again.

a glass full of love

Alastor accidentally gets dosed with love potion and falls madly in love with Vox. Vox is milking it for everything he can get.

Playing the Victim

As always, I am a sucker for lykomancer's stories and this one is no different. Vox captures Alastor and implants various hypnotic codes in his psyche before fucking him.

Unsurpassable skills in espionage

Vox manages to collect dirt on the hotel that could ruin them, Alastor is tasked with retrieving said dirt because he's so well versed in subterfuge, and not, as Angel claims, because Vox wants to fuck him.

Two for the Show

This fic was so good! There's something about ohdeercoffee's smut that is just absolutely delectable. Alastor has a little game he plays each time he goes into rut. He goes to bars and flirts with sinners only to blue ball them the second they leave the bar. This time Alastor spots a peculiar looking sinner with a box for a head and decides he will be his next victim.

(Temporary) Truce

Alastor is going through heat after seven years away from Hell. Vox notices the signs and steps in to help.

The Trials and Tribulations of Alastor's Cursed Pussy

As you can imagine from the title, this series deals with Alastor going through estrus and the various points in their relationship that Vox has helped Alastor through it. This series is in turn sexy, funny, and heart wrenching.

Haven

This fic is so sad but so wonderful. Alastor is so desperately worried for his friend and it provides a wonderful characterization of his inner monologue. Vox pisses off another overlord and is kidnapped. Alastor searches the whole of Pentagram City to find him and bring him home.

Two Halves of a Whole Idiot

Alastor goes into heat and chases Vox down as part of a mating ritual. Vox is super into it. They end up fucking about it.

Man or Machine

Vox has just finished another surgical upgrade and Alastor becomes curious as to how much of Vox remains organic and how much has turned mechanical. He conducts his own investigation.

Thought Contagion

Vox works until he drops and Alastor finds it funny to keep a tally of all the silly places Vox has ended up passed out in. During this latest instance, Vox starts to dream and Alastor finds himself drawn to the fantasy displayed on his screen.

Epitaph

This fic is very sad, much hurt and no comfort. Alastor finally commits the inevitable and deals with the fall out of his own needs.

Shadow of Yourself

Another delectable smut piece by the beloved princeliest! Alastor lets slip that he and his shadow share sensation and Vox decides to bring that to the bedroom.

Coup de foudre

The hotel hosts a party to celebrate their win against the exorcists. Alastor meets Vox again and finds himself weak to the man's charms even after decades apart.

Meet Me at My Frequency

Starting after episode 2, Vox's actions push him and Alastor to actually reconcile with each other. The rest of the series follows the rest of canon with some small twists prompted by their rekindled relationship.

Even Exchange

So sad but it has a happy ending! A very nice fic for some good catharsis and exploring Vox's complicated feelings for Alastor. Heaven plans a larger attack and Alastor and Charlie meet with other overlords to secure their support. The Vees agree and join the fight. Vox sustains a major injury.

Video Fucked The Radio Star

Alastor comes to pick up Angel from the studio and Valentino bites him. Unfortunately for Alastor, Val's venom is a potent aphrodisiac. Vox offers to help him through it.

Floating, Where You Belong

This is a delightfully dark fic where Vox hypnotizes and mind breaks Alastor into his own personal sex kitten.

The New and Novel

Alastor grows curious about Vox's hypnotism and he asks Vox to use it on him while they have sex. The end results are very worth it.

Boredom Ruins Everything

Alastor feels particularly vulnerable after his fight with Adam and he worries that he might be overpowered and taken advantage of. This leads him to make a deal with Vox to ensure his own peace of mind. Mostly a smut series, but a very good smut series! Binturong Rose has an excellent grasp of the push-pull between these two and masterfully incorporates that in their sex life.

You'll Know

Alastor's first sexual encounter was deeply disappointing. So much so, that he's never attempted something like that again. After meeting and falling in love with Vox, he decides to give it another try and finds that perhaps sex isn't all bad after all.

Shadows and Light

This fic has been rewritten and this is its newest iteration! Vox brings home his latest film to watch with Alastor. Watching it together brings out some unexpected revelations.

So An Author & A Serial Killer Go On A Date

This one's super cute! Based on a well known tumblr prompt, Alastor and Vox meet because Alastor is a serial killer and Vox is a murder novelist and they have been searching similar things on the internet.

In Your Dreams, Old Pal

Vox has been dreaming of Alastor and himself together for a while. Alastor decides to take a peek and is disgusted to find the simpering dream version of him Vox has made. In a fit of rage, he eats his dream counterpart and accidentally seals his own fate. Now he has to play the part of himself every night in Vox's dreams.

Background Noise

A fluffy fic about Alastor's hooves and how cute Vox finds them!

Nothing Above the Knee

A smutty fic of Vox deeply appreciating Alastor's hooves!

Red Bow Tie

Alastor reminisces on the past and his current relationship with Vox. A bittersweet piece about what could have been and what still is.

golden rule, it's just for show!

An unfortunate incident at an overlord meeting turns all the overlords back to their human forms. Alastor finds himself mesmerized by the slight figure Vox cuts and resolves to make him his.

Brand me (so I'll have a reason to be mad)

This fic is super sexy. I really enjoyed the erotica and characterization of the two. Vox presents Alastor with a piece of jewelry with his brand on it. Alastor ridicules him for it, but does he really consider the piece as tacky as he claims?

Sinking Funds

Alastor discovers that Vox has given him the most exclusive credit card one can get in Hell and decides to take it for a spin to see how much Vox cares about Alastor spending his money.

You Want It Rough, You're Out Of Bounds

I will forever and always be a huge Mothball Milkshake fan. Any time they write radiostatic, I am running to read it. Here, Moth took a break from Signals to give us a lovely smutty fic. Alastor and Vox have finally started up a relationship of sorts. They've had sex several times but vox has never been able to make Alastor come. He's determined to change that tonight!

Wind Me Up and Break Me Down

Another fic by the wonderful Mothball Milkshake! (As I said, I am their number one fan lol) This is loosely connected to the above fic but can be read separately. Vox ties Alastor up and worships his body.

scatterbrain

This fic is sweet and hilarious. Alastor discovers that sleeping is technically optional in Hell and stops sleeping for several decades. Lilith steps in and forces him to sleep until he is fully rested.

The Merman

For my Vox merman lovers, come eat! Alastor has heard tale of these merfolk and has been working to capture one for study. He stumbles across Vox and he attempts to capture him. Vox is amused and decides to keep the pretty human that tried to capture him.

In Season

This fic is cute and funny! A little cracky but a good read! Vox and Alastor used to spend their autumn rut/heat together since both their sinner forms went into heat/rut at the same time. Even as enemies, they kept this arrangement. As Alastor goes into his first rut after his sabbatical, he fully expects Vox to join him like normal. However, Vox is not happy that he got left in the lurch for seven years and refuses to cave to his desires.

Research and Development

Velvette and Valentino are sick of Vox constantly obsessing over Alastor and order him to do something about it. He ends up creating a virtual reality so that he can finally fuck Alastor and maybe get it out of his system. However, the program seems to have other ideas.

when the flies fell

A modern day human AU wherein Alastor convinces Vox to help him summon a demon. This has worse consequences than either of them foresaw as they race to fix their mistake.

Unfinished

Harlem Sunset

Set after the events of episode 2. Alastor approaches Vox to propose scheduled brawls outside of the city. Vox decides to take him up on it and it sets in motion a chain of events that can't be stopped. Just a small note, none of the fight scenes are on camera, so to speak, in the fic. However, the developing relationship is sweet and I am enjoying it a lot!

My Body, Your Temple

This is a masterfully done human AU set in the 1930s. Vox comes down to New Orleans in an effort to poach New Orleans' very own Alastor Deveaux, Alastor finds him absolutely insufferable. They find themselves drawn into each other's orbit and find themselves tangled in an all consuming desire for one another.

Believe Me, (The Sun Always Shines on TV)

In a fit of rage, Valentino damages Vox's head so badly that he can't fix it himself, so he goes to the one person he knows can piece him back together. Doing so forces both Alastor and Vox to confront the ugly history between them.

Summer Wine

Charlie strikes a deal with Heaven to trial run redemption with a sinner of her choosing. By pure accident, Vox and Alastor are selected instead and must work together as they find themselves back on Earth in the modern day.

Perhaps it's Pedestrian

Okay so I normally have a rule that a fic has to have at least three chapters before I toss it up on the list because I always hate clicking on rec lists that are full of one chapter WIPS. However, this fic is so long and wonderfully written for the two chapters it does have that it deserves a spot so more people can go encourage the author with kudos and comments!

Vox and Val break up again and Vox goes to a bar to drink and find a one night stand. Alastor makes that much harder than it should be to do so.

Animal Natures

Another favorite by the dear lykomancer! This time it's a series. As the title suggests, Alastor goes into rut and Vox helps him through it. Unfortunately, Alastor likes it a little too much and now that's Vox's fault, somehow.

For the sake of research and understanding

Alastor is curious about why others seem so obsessed with sex, so he goes to his good pal Vox to ask him to explain to him. One thing leads to another, and Vox finds himself giving a practical demonstration.

An Unforgettable Debut | 1961

After several years of hard work, Vox is finally ready to launch his own studio and has thrown a huge party to celebrate. Unfortunately for him, someone has ordered a hit out on one of the Radio Demon's companions and he's been caught in the crossfire. Will he be able to make it to his party on time?

Modulation Missteps

I'm really enjoying this fic and the worldbuilding the author has put in to make a comprehensive narrative. This is a Human AU where Vox and Alastor were childhood best friends who separated. Years later, Vox forces a reconnect and they have to work through all the ugly emotions they've both been harboring for over a decade.

Now only dogs follow me (Is He Following?)

Several years ago, Vox was an incredible detective solving serial killer cases until he suffered a mental break and was fired. After finally getting his life back on track, all his progress is threatened as a new killer comes to town and the department needs him again. Luckily, he finds support in his old childhood friend, Alastor.

it's not murder, it's research and waste disposal

Okay so. This guy is dark and very gory. And I do mean that a lot. Please read the tags before diving into this fic, it is absolutely not for the faint of heart and it has even grossed me out a few times. That said, it is beautifully written and the relationship between Alastor and Vox is simply divine.

Vox moves to New Orleans and meets Alastor and immediately falls in love. Alastor wishes Vox would choke and die until he finds Vox attempting to dump a body in the bayou and suddenly Vox is so much more interesting.

@00sukisuki00 @15prime8 @19vv91 @3oddsocks69 @ach0ndrit3 @adeala3in1 @ali3npuppyy @alice-after-dark @alice-on-elm-street @almaquinzel @animefanboy48 @anon4usfickly @arleney @aroace-axolotl @aseplant @av0ryx22 @awasteofyourtime @ayoaloe @az13478809 @barblesgirl @beamie-24 @beloved-riverbank @bigsongtraveler @bookworm-blogs @borckschav @bratpfanne-of-doom @brayanneitor @bruhjoll @burrito-me-batman @bv-l7a @camillekarnage @carchee-sh @catgirl-catboy @celenepolaris @charmeecoffee @cheeseindeed @classystudentmiracleus @coins-that-never-land @cpyclopse @creatrajournal @scrumii @cryptidinprogress @d3ath4mybirthday @dancingafterdark @dancingthere @darkenthusiastearthquake @deaddeerdonoteat @dible-png @diequeeria @dragengyrr

@drakepad-luv-2000 @drunk-bartender @eggie-y0lk @elxsweb @embv @emirose05 @erik-is-right @fabaulti @fallenemma @fishmage-exists @floral-moon-light @flyingcheeseburgerfromvenus @freakshowmemories @frenchmacaroni @galaxyavenger @ghosttai @gingerrrprince @glassrosepen @goodusernamepending

@grapeflavord @hanarainpour @hardhideoutcollector @hazbinsillynight @hazhotace @hell-fm @henchy5824 @hiddlydiddly @hiemaldesirae @holyvox @honey-bee-lee @hopeful-llama-peach @huzoz @hyenafan @hyliantimelordin221b @hztenko @i-exist-somehow @i-want-more-coffee @idkwhattonamemyself21 @idsrv2bleed @imdoned @imma-potatoo @invisableanimator @issushaim @itcantgetpossiblyworst @jadock-the-wise @janjanjr @kamdensl @kitsunemakina @kiwisheep @ladymomomymomoness @legreenorange @leoandromeda @lilactears16 @lilly3683 @lilypeak12 @lonely-abstraction @loveydoveybugz @lovingtreepeachshark @lucifer-morn-666 @mareneeps @marsbabysblog @maskmasters @matrixbearer2024 @mcarrefour @melodie-33 @moon-kid @moonshroooms @moonstone1627 @morfanerina @morninvio @mortifyingordealofbeinggnome @motherarts @murasakirose080 @musedepandora @mysterybooks-world @mystichideoutcycle @mystudentclodeagle @nadaeday @neph-le-geek @nervousdreampeanut @nightfires @nighthawk9797 @nocakesformissedith @nornpai @ok-average24 @oopsimfade @osssmoth @outrageousbirb @patka300768 @pearlofamphitrite @pedi-bug @pennedinblood @pennytherobot @phoenixdemonqueen @pinkpoffin80-blog @place-holder-name-111111 @planetsofmarz @prince-liest @princess-daisyy @pro-crastinator14 @psi-neko @ptarmy @queenbee5436 @rach172 @rachello344 @rae-does-stuff @ratpink @re-bon-bon-san @realmofvoxtv @ruiky @sassy-radio-hazbin-queen @sassycandypoetry @scribblersvale @shiggyghost19 @sillysimplysilky @sillytheotter @sleepyfolkinthetrees @snuhh @somebody-in-this-world-who-lives @soot-and-salt @spaceaace @sparklingganymede @speedyvoidthing @spinning-all-your-silk @spoondrifts @sqwdkllr @starlightthedaydreamer @starlightthenightwing @starwinterbutterfly @stickycherryblossomobject @subarux99 @superpersonpatroleclipse @sw5t @sweetlittle-fallen-angel @taemakesart @tamdam41 @tarotthrawn @techni-kolor @tekasumili @that-one-fangirl123 @thedragonforest @thegaywarden @thegreatpapaya666 @them-in-stem @therealangeldust69 @thesexydancingcrepe @tigersharktheautisticseawing @torustesseract @tricho-tillo-mania @tristala @twyisontheline @umbreonsrings @unnecessarilysalty @valkyrisms @venusforfran @vibrantvenus @violettestars @vroomiann @vroomvroomwee @waitingforanonshittydayinhell @webstertome @whyamistillhereim23 @witchtig @xenorym @xxfihassubwayxx @yandere-enthusiast @yurisakaki13 @yonderlyporcupine

[octuscle]

Life-changing cruise experience

Daniel had been warned time and time again: Leaving the ship without a cruise line-licensed guide is dangerous to your wallet and health. Daniel thought that was silly. After all, Salvador de Bahia was not a slum in a civil war-torn country. Yes, Brazil was not without danger. But nothing had happened in Maceio and Recife either. Nevertheless, to be on the safe side, Daniel only packed a little cash, left his wristwatch on board and took an old cell phone with him, which was certainly unattractive to pickpockets. At the pier, he took a cab and was driven directly to the old town.

Salvador de Bahia was incredibly beautiful. Yes, it was full of tourists. But luckily Daniel arrived in the old town before the buses. And in his simple clothes, he didn't look much like a cruise tourist, who were always easy victims. He enjoyed strolling through the alleyways and lost himself deeper and deeper in the labyrinth. The colorful baroque buildings became fewer and fewer, you could hardly hear any English and only what Daniel thought was Portuguese. The attacks from street vendors became more frequent and Daniel began to feel increasingly uncomfortable. And when he saw a knife flash at one of the nasty-looking guys, Daniel intuitively jumped into the nearest doorway. He had ended up in a capoeira school. He looked anxiously at the street where the mugger was looking around. Fearfully, he looked into the school, where a couple of guys were standing, not looking very trusting either. Suddenly one of the capoeiristas started grinning at him, shouted something to him in Portuguese and handed him one of the typical combat pants. Of course, Daniel felt silly putting these on. But returning to the street seemed much less attractive to him. So he put the pants on and joined the other students.

The movements seemed infinitely complicated to him at first. He didn't understand what it was all about. Until he realized that the teacher had obviously switched to English. At least Daniel understood the instructions, but he was still incredibly clumsy. The training was exhausting. Daniel lost track of time. He got better and better. The movements became second nature to him. The drum beats were incredibly familiar to him. He knew the strengths and weaknesses of his opponents. How long had they been training together? For as long as Daniel could remember. Even as a child, he had watched with fascination how elegantly the boys danced and moved their well-trained bodies. He had always wanted to be able to do the same. And with a certain amount of modesty, Danilo could say that he had become one of the best at his school.

Hehehe, he had never been able to say that about his real school. Sitting still and learning had never been for him. Fortunately, in addition to his talent for capoeira, he had dazzling looks and a stunning charm. Even if he could only talk to the tourists in broken English, that was enough to collect plenty of tips at his shows at Santa Maria Fort.

Danilo's specialty, however, was his private shows, which he performed either in the back room of the bar where he danced or in the hotel rooms of the gringos. And it didn't matter whether he was fucking the white ass of an American tourist or getting a blowjob from a German pensioner. His services were in demand. And expensive. Danilo loved his life!

Pic found @xq28-xq28-xq28, inspiration by @curioustoseewhatsup

[patrycarro]

TS3 - Majestic Hotel (No CC)

ENG:

The Majestic Hotel is a hallmark of luxury and exclusivity, offering elegant rooms and classic-style common areas designed for ultimate comfort and tranquility. Guests can enjoy premium amenities, including a gourmet restaurant, a well-equipped gym, a refreshing swimming pool, and a sunlit terrace perfect for relaxing breakfasts. A secure play area for children is also available. Ideal for a getaway filled with charm, sophistication, and attention to detail.

Features:

Lot type: Community, resort

Lot size: 60x60

Location: Sunset Valley

Furnished lot value: 1.187.131 §

Unfurnished lot value: 623.900 §

Packs used in this build: EP01, EP02, EP03, EP04, EP05, EP06, EP08, EP09, EP10

Requirements:

Sims 3 Rabbit Hole Rugs and Doors Complete Collection by MrFatCat.

Terms and conditions:

DO NOT claim my creations as your own.

If you want to use any of my builds in your custom world or save file, you are allowed to do so, BUT make sure to credit me as the original creator.

DO NOT re-upload my content under any circumstances; share it with your friends using my own links.

If you experience any issues, let me know and I’ll try to fix it as soon as possible.

Download it here. 🤍

SPA:

El Majestic Hotel es un símbolo de lujo y exclusividad, con elegantes habitaciones y áreas comunes de estilo clásico que garantizan comodidad y serenidad. Ofrece servicios de primera clase, como un restaurante gourmet, gimnasio, piscina y una terraza ideal para disfrutar del sol. También cuenta con una zona segura para niños. Perfecto para una escapada llena de encanto y distinción.

Características:

Tipo de solar: Comunitario, complejo turístico

Tamaño del solar: 60x60

Ubicación: Sunset Valley

Valor del solar amueblado: 1.187.131 §

Valor del solar sin amueblar: 623.900 §

Packs utilizados en esta construcción: EP01, EP02, EP03, EP04, EP05, EP06, EP08, EP09, EP10

Requisitos:

Sims 3 Rabbit Hole Rugs and Doors Complete Collection de MrFatCat.

Términos y condiciones:

NO proclames mis creaciones como tuyas.

Si quieres usar alguna de mis construcciones en tu mundo personalizado o save file, tienes permitido hacerlo, PERO deja claro que yo soy su creadora original.

NO resubas mi contenido bajo ninguna excepción; compártelo con tus conocidos usando mis propios enlaces.

Si experimentas algún problema, házmelo saber e intentaré solucionarlo lo antes posible.

Descárgalo aquí. 🤍

[why4anne]

Money Power Glory

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Category: Mafia! au

Part: 2/?

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Stalking, drugging, kidnapping

Summary: When you accidentally found yourself in the middle of a mafia show down you had no idea that your life was about to change, forever. For better or for worse.

Masterlist

The days that followed the gala were a whirlwind of emotions and contemplation. Charles Leclerc's unexpected presence in your life had left you in a state of curiosity and caution. You couldn't deny the magnetic pull between you, but the dangers and secrets that lurked beneath the surface still weighed heavily on your mind.

You found yourself torn between the intrigue of Charles's world and the desire to lead a simple and safe life. Yet, as each day passed, you couldn't escape the lingering thoughts of that fateful night and the green eyed man who had played a pivotal role in it.

It was on a quiet evening, you were sitting on the couch in your cozy apartment, when your phone buzzed, breaking the stillness of your thoughts. The message was simple, yet it sent a shiver down your spine: "Meet me at Hotel de Paris tomorrow at 8 PM - Charles."

The message was oddly straight forward and cryptic, but it held an air of urgency that you couldn't ignore. It was an invitation that you knew you couldn't decline, not when you had already been drawn into this intricate web of secrets.

The following evening, you arrived at the luxurious restaurant in the hotel, a charming and dimly lit establishment that overlooked the glamorous heart of Monaco. The atmosphere was serene, a stark contrast to the chaos and danger you had encountered in Monaco as of late.

Charles was already there, seated at a secluded table near the window. His gaze lifted as you entered, and a warm smile graced his lips. He stood, kissing your cheek and pulling out a chair for you, a silent gesture that spoke of both respect and courtesy with an underlying tone of flirtatiousness.

"You came," Charles remarked, his green eyes locked onto yours as you took your seat.

You nodded, your curiosity once again piqued. "Your message left me with no other choice, Charles. What's this about?"

Charles leaned in closer, his voice a low murmur. "I wanted to talk to you, away from the prying eyes of the gala. I felt we needed a more private setting."

“We’re literally in one of the most popular restaurants in all of Monaco. I doubt we will be able to speak privately here.” You pointed out the obvious, but as you looked around you, you noticed that all of the other tables are empty.

“Don’t worry about that, love. I bought out the entire restaurant and the staff have all been paid off, they won’t bother us” He said nonchalantly, as if it was no big deal.

“How is that even possible? This place is booked up for weeks in advance” You were flabbergasted at his confession. How could one person just shut down one of the best restaurants in Monaco?

“I know people” He brushed off the entire situation “Now, we have matters to discuss.”

Your heart raced as he spoke, your apprehension growing with each passing second. "What matters, Charles?"

He sighed, his gaze clouded with a mix of emotions. "The world I live in, Y/N, it's not as simple as it may seem. Monaco may be a paradise, but it's also a web of power, secrets, and danger. I need you to understand that what happened on the night we met was not a one-time occurrence and you being there put you on the map for some very dangerous people, myself included."

The weight of his words settled over you, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of foreboding. "What are you involved in, Charles? You're telling me that our paths crossing put me in danger from god knows what?."

Charles hesitated, as if choosing his words carefully. "I come from a family with a long history in... certain aspects of Monaco. The incident that night was a result of longstanding conflicts, and I'm afraid those conflicts are far from over."

The air grew heavy with unspoken truths, and you couldn't help but wonder if you were in over your head. The world Charles inhabited was far from the idyllic paradise you had envisioned when you first arrived in Monaco. You thought that you would be living the dream, attending your dream university located in the most luxurious country in the world. Yet, here you were, somehow caught up in criminal activities.

"Y/N, I won't lie to you. Being associated with me can be dangerous. But I’m also the only one who wants to protect you from that danger. I want you to understand the choices you're making."

You swallowed hard, your mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. The allure of Charles's world, mixed with the dangers it presented, left you in a state of uncertainty. "What do you want from me, Charles? Why are you involving me in all of this?"

Charles reached out, his hand gently brushing yours. "I don't want you to be a pawn in a dangerous game, Y/N. I want you to have a choice, a say in how you want to be a part of my life. If you want to walk away, you will be in constant danger. But if you choose to stay, I'll do everything in my power to protect you."

The sincerity in his words was undeniable, and the way he looked at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of longing and vulnerability, tugged at your heartstrings. You couldn't deny the connection between the two of you, a connection that had brought you into the heart of Monaco's secrets.

"I need time, Charles," you finally admitted, your voice tinged with uncertainty. "I need time to process all of this, to understand what I'm getting into."

Charles nodded, a sense of relief in his eyes. "That's all I ask, Y/N. Take all the time you need, and remember that I'm here, waiting for your decision."

Five days later you were yet to notice the black car with the Leclerc monogram parked near your apartment complex. Or the amount of men dressed in black that were present in every place you went. After all, they were trained for this, to stay in the shadows, lurking, never getting caught. 

You had no idea that Charles saying that you have any choice in this matter whatsoever was a big fat lie. He was giving you the illusion of choice and you were about to make the wrong one. 

You liked your life as it were, you were studying in the country of your dreams, at the university you’ve always wanted to attend. You didn’t know what exactly would happen if you agreed to Charles’ terms but you were quite sure that you could kiss goodbye to your current level of freedom. You had made your choice, now it was time to tell Charles. 

‘Can we talk?’ You took up your phone and sent him a message, sitting on the couch as you waited for his response.

‘Tonight, same place and time’ Was all that he sent back. You stared at the screen for longer than you would like to admit. The longer you stare the more you wanted to change your mind, but you knew you had to turn him down. You were not about to live in a sheltered box for the rest of your life, not when you were so close to fulfilling your dreams.

8 PM rolled around faster than you would’ve liked and you felt your pulse starting to pick up the moment you stepped into the lavish restaurant once more. There he sat, in his black suit, his hair perfectly styled and his intense green gaze following your every move. 

“Good evening Y/N” He said as you got close enough, getting up in order to pull out the chair for you. “What is your decision?” He asked once you got seated and had ordered a glass of wine, the expensive kind, per his request. 

“Charles, you’ve been very generous with me and I want to thank you for the offer but I have to decline.” You started, and before he could answer you continued. “I understand that there is a… risk, but I don’t want to live in a bubble. I am living my dream right now and I can’t lose that.” You explained, looking into his green eyes. Yet, you missed how his gaze turned cold, calculating. This was not the answer he wanted and he always gets what he wants.

“I see…” He finally said, his voice soft as honey, expertly masking his true feelings and intentions. “I understand and respect your choice, I’ll let you live your life on your terms.”  He was lying straight through his teeth, he was not about to let you go that easily. You were his from the moment you stayed with him after he got shot, you just didn’t know it yet.

“Thank you for understanding, Charles” You smiled and placed your hand over the back of his.

“Of course” He nodded and turned his hand upwards, caressing his thumb along yours. “Well, let’s not waste this night on the boring stuff. What do you want to order?” He changed the subject and motioned for one of the waiters to come over with a menu. You happily took the menu and after a while you decided on their famous pasta.

“Good choice” Charles pointed out. “I’ll have the same dish” He told the waiter.

The night went on, the two of you making small talk and getting to know each other. Which seemed unnecessary, seeing as you probably won't see him again after tonight, but still, it was nice. You missed the way his jaw clenched and the geers turned in his head, forming a plan on how to make you agree to let him protect you.

“It was nice meeting you” Charles said as he walked you back to your cab.

“It was nice meeting you too” You smiled and got into the car. “Thank you for the dinner and good luck with everything” 

“The same to you Y/N. If you ever need me, just ask” He reassured you.

“I will” You answered before he closed the door and all you could do was look back at him as the cab drove off into the night. Your eyes meeting for what you assumed would be the last time. Oh, how wrong you were, if he will have it his way, which he always does, you will be in his arms sooner rather than later.

Four months go by and Charles and his world was but a distant memory in the back of your mind. Only resurfacing when you walk by the restaurants where you would meet up. You moved on with your life, going to class, spending time around Monaco, but Charles did not. All he had done since that night four months ago was figuring out a way to make you his. To have you at his side and now he had finally come up with a plan to do just that. 

The sun was setting as you walked along the streets of Monaco on your way back to your apartment. The bag on your shoulder was heavy with coursebooks and notepads but it was nothing you weren’t used to. You would like to say that you’re kicking ass at university but reality was that university was kicking your ass. After barely getting a passing grade on your last exam you’d decided to pull an allnighter in order to catch up. 

The sound of your shoes hitting the asphalt beneath you was the only thing that could be heard in the young night. The sky was painted in a beautiful shade of pink and you smiled to yourself as you decided to put your airpods in and listen to some music in order to romanticize your life a little. You happily strolled along the sidewalk as the music tuned out the outside world and felt a smile spreading on your lips. You didn’t even notice as two masked men appeared from the shadows of an alleyway, too far gone in your own thoughts to pay attention as the two looming figures got closer and closer. 

You didn’t even have time to scream before a hand wrapped itself around your mouth, cutting any and all sound off before anyone could hear your cry for help. Not that anyone would’ve either way, the street was completely dead, not a soul in sight, no one around to save you. 

You thrashed and fought in a trivial attempt to free yourself from the man’s grasp. Your heart was in your throat and the adrenaline was pumping through your veins but he was just too strong for you. 

You fought even harder when you saw the other man pull out a napkin from his pocket, drenching it in some form of liquid.

‘Oh fuck, they’re going to drug me’ You thought in panic as he slowly put it against your mouth and nose. You tried to hold your breath but it only lasted for so long. You took a breath, trying to keep it shallow but you could feel the effects of whatever you’d just breathed in. 

Your vision started to blur around the edges as you fought to remain conscious. Your attempts were for nothing and you could feel yourself slipping into darkness. 

“The target is secure” The man that wasn’t holding you said into an intercom. You felt yourself being picked up and carried away before you fully succumbed to sleep.

‘What the actual fuck just happened?’ Was the last thing you thought before blacking out.

[minkdelovely]

ptolemaea

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

“i am no good nor evil, simply i am. and i have come to take what is mine.”

Nun!Alastor x Demon!Lucifer ; RadioApple ; MDNI 18+

tags/warnings: top!lucifer x bottom!alastor, alcohol consumption, accidental luci praise fic?, blasphemous debauchery, desecration of catholic imagery, smut (vague i know but if the previous tags haven’t scared you… 😂) also not a brag but i think i accidentally put my whole pussy into this idk what happened but here we are 🥂**didn’t implement tag list to avoid shocking y’all to death**

word count: 5.1k

author’s note: *natalie portman voice* i never said i was a role model. this companion piece (<- first part linked here) is dedicated to darling @hazelfoureyes who gave me courage to let my freak flag fly — please accept this as my humble offer of gratitude; it’s been an honor to workshop this idea with you 😭 totally get it if this crosses a line for some (please skip, i promise it’s okay lol) but i couldn’t be more excited to publish this. for anyone willing to join us on the yellow brick road to hell you are welcome to link arms 🙏🏻❤️‍🔥 theme inspo from ethel cain 🏚️ i also made a playlist for the party if you wanna check it out ✨

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Samhain was always a peculiar time for Lucifer.

Though he could come and go as he pleased between realms — with the exception of Heaven, of course — the thinning of the veil was the only time of year he could feel Earth from Hell. The energy of realms converging wallowed in the air heady as incense, enticing his powers to rest just under his skin. 

Or at least that’s how it felt. A not-unpleasant humming tension, aching to be released. It put him on edge, stirring him like a poker to hot coals as he fought to maintain his suave facade against the urge to succumb to the deeper power he normally held back with ease. It had never gone over well whenever Lucifer gave into the temptation… 

Except for the year he accidentally created a mound of rubber ducks. What a charming fascination that had turned out to be.

Normally he would make plans to visit with one of the other Sins or confine himself to his workshop to keep busy (use your imagination), but this year Charlie was hosting a party at the hotel. A costume party. He had no intention of dressing up (the fear that no one took him seriously enough as-is not completely unfounded), but he did find the practice endearing. Little mortals disguising themselves to hide from ghouls and demons. 

But he was Lucifer Morningstar, after all. Sinners and the like dressed up after him, not the other way around.

Exasperation pricked the king’s skin as Alastor suddenly came to mind, maintaining a perpetual state of unwelcome in Lucifer’s consciousness. He probably wouldn’t be dressing up either, the smug son-of-a-bitch. Every day is Halloween for that haunted sideshow, he thought bitterly with a laugh to himself, the sound echoing off the walls his only companion within the confines of the office — aside from the ever-present mass of ducks, of course.

The dilemma was still there when the laughter died though. Risk letting Charlie down by not dressing up and lumping himself in with Alastor by extension? Or don a costume and give the snarky demon and anyone else with a mocking eye the false impression of superiority? Lucifer groaned, running both hands through his bouffant platinum hair as he slumped forward at his desk. 

How had it come to this, needing to choose between love for his daughter or himself? Consumed by the current problem, he failed to recognize that this was an issue typically at hand, even when he lacked venom behind it. He was making good progress when it came to Charlie, but as they say, old habits die hard. There had to be a compromise somewhere…

A minute passed.

Head between his knees, his eyes shot open with the thrill of inspiration and he sprang from his chair, decision made. The familiar handsome smile graced his lips as he sauntered to his bedroom where an untouched suit awaited him in the armoire. He wasn’t the sin of Pride for nothing.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Intersecting somewhere between Halloween and New Year's Eve, the newly-added ballroom of the hotel was decorated to the gills, not a single inch of it lacking in festive flair. Angel Dust scoffed when a DJ had been suggested and happily provided a playlist for the party, which was either really smart or really crazy. Or both. Only time would tell, but so far there had been no complaints.

Sinners were piling in, ooh-ing and ahh-ing at the establishment. The cacophony of conversation, laughter, and music filled the space with a liveliness Charlie hoped would be a more permanent fixture at the hotel. She and Vaggie had taken charge of greeting everyone at the entrance of the ballroom, receiving some surprisingly sincere compliments on their Glinda and Elphaba costumes. Any derogatory laughter or smirks were being pointedly ignored, both women knowing full well that they looked incredible.

When Charlie spotted her father approaching in the crowd, her smile faltered briefly. “Dad! I thought I told you this was a costume party,” she said tentatively, looking back to give Vaggie a silent plead to keep up with the greetings before focusing her full attention on Lucifer.

“Oh, honey, you look fantastic! Pink really suits you,” he deflected, eyes and voice sparkling as he held Charlie’s arms out to admire the glittering gown, looking every bit the princess she was.

She drew back, not unkindly, when he released her and wrapped her arms around her ribs self-consciously. Groaning, “Dad…” 

It was quite impressive how she could admonish him with a single word without even meaning to. Must've gotten it from her mother, he thought absently, though Lilith wouldn’t know passive aggression if it slapped her on the ass. 

Thinking on his estranged wife, it was a true miracle how Charlie had blossomed into the compassionate and brave young woman standing before him. Lilith, never afraid to lead the charge; himself, too trepidatious to take the risk. Yet somehow their daughter seemed to embody the best of them both, reflecting parts of himself that he didn’t know where there.

He could have wept on the spot, suddenly fit to burst with affection for her — no doubt another side effect of the day — but the angel quickly refocused when he saw Charlie’s nervous expression toward him and leapt into damage control.

“Whaddya mean, I am dressed up!” he managed to answer with his usual charm. With one hand he pointed at his extended horns, a flicker of flame glowing between them adorned with his delicate serpent crown. The other hand swooped in front of his red suit with a flourish. “You’re telling me this doesn’t pass as a credible devil costume? You know, I actually held back. Thought maybe it’d be too scary for your guests if I went all out.”

If keeping his flame low and eyes neutral counted as holding back, and not just the ones in his skull. People got squeamish around him whenever the amass of eyes on his crown and wings appeared. He didn’t blame them.

Lucifer was rambling now, a nervous laugh the cherry on top of his need to save face. Though somewhat of a loophole, he had found the idea to be rather clever. Then again, he was trapped in an echo chamber of his own thoughts so most ideas naturally fell into that category. Was it really such a letdown? He could’ve bailed altogether, nerves already desperate for solitude, but he wanted to try for her. Even if it felt like two steps forward and one step back when it came to Charlie, he’d keep aiming to get it right for as long as she’d allow. 

“I actually think you look great,” Vaggie said smoothly, swooping in next to Charlie at the first break in the crowd. Lucifer would owe her for the rest of existence for the save. A debt he was more than happy to repay in whichever way pleased her best, making a mental note to discuss it later with the fellow angel. “It’s a lot better than what Alastor decided to show up in, anyhow.” The grimace on her face and in her tone was unmistakable. 

Alastor had fucked up.

It took all of Lucifer’s willpower to keep his magic in check at the delight that shot through him. The PR mess regarding what would equate to mass murder, regrettably, didn’t ping his radar. But the thought of needing to rebuild the ballroom was just taxing enough to keep the impulse at bay.

He was about to ask what Vaggie meant when Charlie stepped in, playing devil’s advocate as usual (no pun intended). What his precious, well-meaning daughter saw in that undeserving creep, he’d never understand.

“He’s just getting into the spirit! You have to admit, it’s nice to see him mingling for once, he’s usually so—”

“Grotesque?” Lucifer offered.

“Conniving?” Vaggie added.

“Reclusive!” Charlie practically screamed, earning looks from a few demons within earshot. “Look, I won’t say that what he picked out isn’t… surprising, but I’m just really happy to see him join in on the fun. He’s been enjoying himself so far, so I want you guys on best behavior, all right?” 

She said you guys but made solid eye contact with her father. Despite wanting to protest, Lucifer understood he was already off to a shaky start and conceded with a sigh, covered quickly with a debonair grin. Charlie didn’t know what a particularly big ask it was to be on best behavior tonight, but that was his burden to bear.

“Of course, sweetie, you have nothing to worry about! There are so many sinners here I doubt we’ll even run into each other.”

Famous last words.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Lucifer tried to enjoy himself, he really did. 

In the brief moments before his eyes found Alastor in the crowd, it had actually been a wonderful time. He was immediately awash in the admiration of his subjects, even managing to make some poor creature faint with a simple grin in their direction — though he had really laid on the charm with that one. Could he be blamed though? After ten millennia of habit, calling it compulsive would be an understatement. 

Moments like this were a reminder of why it was good to get out of his office every now and then. Whether it was compliments on his look, praise for the fight with Adam, or outright solicitation for sex, Lucifer drank it all in; beaming as the crowd awed at the sight of fully extended wings he could no longer keep to himself. He really was the shit, wasn’t he? Being worshipped is truly unlike anything else, but it’s something to experience, not explain. All he knew was that he adored it. 

It had been a devastatingly short-lived escape, the proverbial looming gray cloud — never too far away — returning as Lucifer’s gaze fell on Alastor. He had been scanning for the bar and stumbled on an atrocity instead. Just his luck. 

The costume was a shocking choice to be sure, one that Lucifer might have even appreciated had it been on literally anyone else. But something about it on Alastor was simply… perverse. Leaving him with the struggle of trying to decide if it was the costume that was the issue or its inhabitant.

Was it the way the habit — embellished with red stitches on each side and the Cross of Saint Peter in the center — framed Alastor’s face, ears and horns still exposed with just a tuft of bang peaking out across his forehead? The pure white wimple that glowed like a beacon against the stark black surrounding it, casting an unusual grace upon the slender neck and broad shoulders underneath? Or how the tunic flattered the swell of his chest, the taper of his thin waist accentuated by the fabric swirling about his hips that flowed down over long, lean legs?

The demon, draped languidly over the bar, was chatting with Husker; the look on their faces was the most relaxed and natural Lucifer had ever seen exchanged between the pair, borderline flirtatious. Whatever the bartender said made Alastor toss his head back with a laugh, the exuberant sound of it piercing the angel’s chest like an arrow. How he had even managed to hear it so clearly over the music and the crowd was a miracle, or perhaps curse was more accurate. Still, the easygoing look on Alastor’s face as he came down from the laugh was bewitching, accented by a boozy flush and mischievous, heavy red eyes.

Insufferable.

The Radio Demon was in top form tonight, confidence radiating from him with such a forceful ease that the king could feel it even from his place across the room. He hadn’t noticed the literal sparks flying out of the pads of his fingers until he brought his hands up to tug at the collar of his shirt, which suddenly felt too tight. Fuck.

Taking it all in, Lucifer could feel the heat rising reluctantly in his face as he was consumed by a baffling mixture of lust and loathing.

All because Alastor decided to be a blasphemous piece of shit, he seethed, scowling as he narrowed his eyes at the sinner in question. Eerie, arrogant, pompous, constant pain-in-the-ass Alastor, riling him up like this? Lucifer had considered it number one on his list of impossibilities, caught completely off-guard by the rush of desire — if he had to put a word on it — for the ghoulish prick. An impulse he had never entertained nor wanted to feel in regard to the demon, but was there all the same.

“Samhain,” Lucifer cursed under his breath. The flame between his horns intensified, eyes prickling with the threat to change color. He took a breath, remembering Charlie. 

Best behavior. 

It was about as helpful as a bandaid over a bullet wound. This had to be a joke; a cruel, tasteless joke meant to provoke him specifically. Like he hadn’t suffered enough of those already in his long, long existence.

That was the only conclusion the angel could come to from his table near the bar, practically burning alive in his chair as he watched Alastor strutting around the ballroom in between breaks from the dance floor. Lucifer really had almost set himself on fire after catching Alastor in the middle of a sultry dance move with one of the guests, a rolling of hips he didn’t think Alastor was even capable of doing, let alone inflict upon someone. It took a double shot to mellow out when he found himself wondering what it would be like to switch places with that guest, though it did little to quell the growing ache coiling low in his abdomen.

There was a lull in the music and the crowd disbursed, quickly filling the empty space around the angel. Lucifer exhaled, somewhere between a groan and a laugh. Alastor had finally managed to dip out of his line of sight — not that the demon was forcing Lucifer to look — and the reprieve couldn’t have come at a better time; the solace of his absence coming over the angel like poultice to a throbbing wound. Despite being a couple drinks in now, the tension in his body was a ticking bomb. He needed the opportunity to try and decompress before he accidentally wrought havoc upon the denizens invited here by his daughter.

For at least the tenth time he entertained the idea of going back up to his room, if only to release some of the punishing energy pulsating through him, but he wasn’t confident that he’d return. The only thing holding him back was the promise he made to Charlie to be present and well behaved. And so, he remained committed to the confinement of the table he’d been bonded to for the last hour.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

In hoping to keep as much distance as possible Lucifer had unwittingly tipped Alastor off, landing the problem he was hoping to evade right in his lap. So to speak.

He always forgot that the demon could travel through shadow until it was too late. It’s just that he didn’t care to remember, not wanting to give Alastor even the tiniest bit of permanent space in his mind. Something he was actually too oblivious to realize he was already doing; they both were.

Alastor had of course noticed when Lucifer entered the room. Whether he wanted to was another thing entirely. Though it was to be expected, what with the dregs of Hell no doubt encountering royalty for the first time. Thankfully he had been at the bar with Husker, his captive bartender providing a welcome distraction with a joke about how his drink was going to cost a few Hail Marys. There were reasons Alastor kept him around, after all, beyond the obvious. Surly as he was, Husk had the capacity to be quite funny when the mood struck. He wasn’t on the clock tonight, but he was the only one Alastor trusted to pour his drinks. 

He could feel the glare beating down on him from that moment on, focused on him wherever he went. So he laid it on, making rounds and fluffing up the guests who were all too eager to devour his attention. It had been especially fun seeing the quick shock of flame in the corner after he showed off a risqué dance move, all for his majesty’s entertainment of course. If the spotlight was going to be forced on him, why not perform? But after an hour the joke was growing stale, and so the demon came to the conclusion that he’d have to be the one to bridge the gap.

Lucifer jumped at the shock of Alastor’s melodic voice coming from behind him, transmuting the glass in his hand into a duck without meaning to with a pop; amber-colored liquor swirling around within the confines of its new shape. Lucifer couldn’t decide what pissed him off more, the jump scare or the magic trick. The not-so-secret third option being Alastor’s proximity to himself, the heat from their bodies mingling in the small space between them.  

“Fuck! You know, you’ve got a lot of nerve sneaking up on me like that. I’m liable to make it a killing offense,” Lucifer sneered, tossing a napkin over his new little creation before anyone else could notice it. “And I haven’t been admiring you. I’m just, uh, keeping an eye on things! Besides, a king shouldn’t mingle with the general population. Might give off the wrong impression.” 

Sealed with crossed arms and a smug, toothy grin, it would’ve made for a decent enough comeback had it not been for the slip up. 

A dear old friend to Alastor, the slip up.

The expression on his face sharpened with a malicious instinctual ease as an idea unfurled in his mind. Lucifer was so obviously perturbed by him, the attempt he made at concealing it was almost endearing in a pathetic way. Though he was always in a pathetic way to Alastor, dark gums revealed in his ominous smile as his scheme took shape. He leaned in low, lips nearly grazing the angel’s skin as he spoke; his ear twitched at the catch of Lucifer’s breath from the action. He was so fucking obvious.

How humiliating.

“Is that so? Well, if you’re merely killing time here, might I suggest a bit of… sport?”

Lucifer flinched, pulling his face away to glare up at him. He couldn’t be insinuating what the angel thought he was, could he? It would be a bold — deadly — move even under normal circumstances. And tonight was anything but normal. 

Something was clearly in the air for Alastor too, if the fraternizing Lucifer had witnessed for the past hour was any indication (not realizing he had been the cause). He was known to have a flirtatiousness about him when he drank, but there was a different edge to it this evening. Lucifer was beginning to wonder if the costume was fueling his narcissism. Obscene.

“Well, your majesty?” Alastor goaded, radio filter frazzling as he leered down. To Lucifer’s chagrin, bedroom eyes looked good on him, the rotten bitch. “If not, I’m more than happy to leave you to your sulking.”

That was a lie and they both knew it, the tension so charged between them the air might combust at any second. Given the king’s proneness to accidents tonight (and the literal open flame above his head) it wasn’t an impossibility. 

As they locked eyes, some silent declaration was sent, though neither had received the same message. Or perhaps they did and therein was the problem, dooming them to be forever caught in this stubborn battle of wills. 

Lucifer tried — and failed — to ignore the portion of himself that, apparently, had been eager for the opportunity. He could give in… if only to set some boundaries on who was always the winner in this pissing contest. The smoky trace of whiskey lingering on Alastor’s breath caused Lucifer’s nails to dig into the flesh of his palm, golden pinpricks of blood rising in the wake. 

A proposition now effectively ratified. 

The Body and the Blood…

How sentimental.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

“Haaahh…! Mmmnn — ahh!”

“Fuck…”

It started off as a joke like so many things do when you’re scared shitless of vulnerability.

An insult here, a dare to chase it. Contemptuous eyes poorly concealing the desire simmering underneath. An angry meeting of mouths, all tongue and teeth and claws. The clattering of miscellaneous items being recklessly swiped off a table.

Glass shattering. 

More insults.

A bite to the lip drawing blood, tangled breath filling in the needy gaps awaiting any touch they could get. The first shared moan ringing in ears before scorching its way down, stoking the molten ache roiling in the gut, desperate to envelop them both and leave nothing but frayed nerves behind. 

Caressing, pulling, gripping, grinding, biting…

The party supply room was hot, air humid with sweaty musk and the steam of heaving breaths, the sounds of the party resonating on the other side of the wall. Inside were hisses through clenched teeth, groans of ecstasy; slick skin coming together then pulling away with the magnitude of storm-heavy waves crashing and receding on the shore.

The tunic covering Alastor’s torso did little to comfort him, stripped as he felt. In fact, the habit was still on too, the only piece of clothing torn from him being the wimple in order to free the expanse of his neck. Lucifer had spent quite a bit of time there, marking it well with harsh love bites and languid strokes of his forked tongue.

He was laid out beneath the angel, open mouthed and florid, vaguely coherent as his king fucked him senseless; seemingly determined to conquer the demon as wholly as possible. A task at which he was succeeding, if he hadn’t done so already; though to be fair he had never stood a chance against Lucifer. Not tonight.

Alastor hadn’t spoken a proper word in minutes, reduced to communicating through moans, groans, and sharp intakes of breath. Quite the accomplishment considering he was such an articulate fellow. 

Lucifer didn’t know it yet, but he would be haunted by the memory of seeing Alastor’s eyes roll to the back of his head once he found the pace he was currently keeping; deep and steady, just fast enough to stay ahead of the desperation that was never too far behind.

So tight…

The demon almost looked sweet, splayed out below him like this, lost in the throes of pleasure. It was a nice change considering the sneer that normally painted his face. But seeing him like this, brows knit and face flushed, the tuft of bang soaked into his forehead…

In this moment, Lucifer truly felt like a God.

He certainly looked like he could be, his demon form fully unleashed. He always felt such relief in this state. It was exhausting holding himself back, and not just today. Something he did all the time, not out of concern or ease for others, but because he had difficulty grappling with his station. Not that he’d give it up — hell no. But the burden of leadership was exactly that. Lilith had known it too, all too happy to take the reins until she wasn’t. He’d been happy to let her… until he wasn’t.

Maybe it was the melding properties of Samhain surging through him, but he could swear he felt a shifting. What good did it do for him to hide himself away? There was actually plenty of proof to the contrary. Why should he hold himself back? He was Lucifer Morningstar. Hell was his domain, and all its inhabitants needed a reminder that he was to be revered.

The Radio Demon could be their martyr.

Why else had he offered himself up like one? And the image suited him well.

“I showed the Nazareth all the kingdoms of the world before they crucified him. What do you see, Alastor?” Lucifer growled, voice thick and smug with authority. He leaned down to nip and lick at the skin of Alastor’s open jaw, still whipping his hips at a relentless pace. 

Even with eyes closed — too much effort, they were so heavy to keep open — Alastor could see him perfectly, the image of Lucifer seared into his mind. Eyes. Glowing red eyes to match the flame roaring between his fully formed horns and the apple that topped his serpent crown like a sparkling ruby. Leering, all-seeing eyes on seraphim’s wings. 

A fanged grin so self-satisfied it was like looking directly into the sun. 

A God.

It burned him to admit it.

But the wanton moan that tore through Alastor’s chest pierced the room, coming on so quickly he never stood a chance at restraining it. The words spilling from Lucifer’s mouth in deep rumbles threatened to unravel the meager hold Alastor had left on his dignity. Absent claws bit into the flesh of the demon’s thighs as the angel momentarily hitched from the way Alastor clenched around him, hot and greedy as if needing to milk him for all he was worth.

The king let out a husky laugh in response, latching onto a particularly enticing patch of Alastor’s neck where it met the shoulder; reveling again in the salty musk that coated his tongue before biting down, filling his mouth with the satisfying taste of iron.

Alastor opened his mouth in a soundless plead, his mouth and throat dry from exertion. Impossible as it seemed, tears pricked at the corner of his eyes; his painfully hard and untouched dick throbbed, weeping against his stomach and into the fabric of the tunic. It was too much… He was too full, too surrounded, too helpless.

Consuming. 

Yes, that’s what it felt like. 

He had never been on the opposite side of it before. 

And despite it all, he could feel his orgasm pooling low in his belly, balls painfully full and tight. That gnawing tension yearning for relief as Lucifer’s thick arousal punished his spongy core. Once the angel pulled away from his neck, Alastor couldn’t help but reach down to touch himself, so in need of climax he didn’t care what it took to get it.

Lucifer roared at the sight, cock twitching as his own release threatened to spill, but managed to hold it back. Delicious as this was to witness, he couldn’t let Alastor get to the finish line just yet; his pointed tail coming around to snatch the demon’s hand away as he pulled out, exhaling with a strained grunt.

The sudden absence of both sensations left Alastor to writhe in frustrated ache, practically sobbing through gritted teeth at the loss, which Lucifer mercifully tried to soothe with languid kisses and nips to the demon’s inner thigh. He wasn’t a completely unfeeling Lord, after all.

He just needed one last thing before letting them both attain the high they so desperately wanted, his eyes shifting back from radiant flame to red and yellow with a blink as he wrapped his hand around Alastor’s angry, dripping length. It wouldn’t be long now, the poor creature was so hard and wet to the touch.

Alastor cried out, regaining some semblance of himself as he unconsciously bucked into Lucifer’s unmoving hand; his mouth made a sticky sound as he swallowed hard, moisture finally returning to his parched throat. 

“Luci…fer… please — I can’t…!” Alastor practically tore the words out between heaving breaths, tears burning his skin as the shame of needing to beg deepened his rosy blush to an intense red. 

He hadn’t expected the demon to beat him to the punch, unable to fight the grin of victory painting his lips as his eyes resumed their fearsome glow. Benevolently rewarding Alastor with a few firm strokes, he relished the lewd, wet sound of it joining the chorus of his subject’s carnal whimpers. Lucifer bent down and flattened his tongue, giving a slow wide lick to Alastor’s leaking cock from base to head, finishing with an obscene slurp. How could he possibly have denied himself such a precious offering? 

A pleased hum rumbled in Lucifer’s chest when Alastor slung an arm over his face, gossamer strings of spit between his lips as he shuddered, “Oh god… fuck…”

That would work. 

Lucifer buried himself back into Alastor’s enticing heat, continuing his ministrations as his hips set a slow pace. A mewling groan spilled from the demon’s mouth, hips rolling to meet each of the angel’s thrusts. Lucifer’s peak was quickly approaching, too lost in the divine feeling of Alastor’s body surrounding him, already lamenting the thought of being finished.

“You poor thing… Did I fuck all the attitude out of you?” the angel taunted, golden blood dripping down the side of his mouth from the force of his smile.

No longer capable of holding it back, the orgasm crashed through Alastor with the force of an avalanche, heart threatening to burst through his chest; the sound of its rapid pounding nearly drowning out his own scream of rapture. He spasmed so tightly that the king had to still himself, the grip on him almost painful. Hot, thick cum shot onto the demon’s stomach and Lucifer’s hand in gratifying spurts as he stroked him through his high, desperate for every drop he could wring out.

Inspired by the mess in front of him, the angel pulled out and brought one of Alastor’s hands to him, guiding him until he felt life twitch back into the demon’s fingers. The grasp was a little too harsh, Alastor perhaps using this as a chance for revenge if the look in his eye was any indication, but it didn’t matter. Nothing could take this conquest from him. It wasn’t long before Lucifer was rutting into the demon’s hand, groaning through clenched teeth as his face twisted up before spilling himself into Alastor’s palm.

Lucifer gave himself a moment to revel in the bliss of their debauchery before cleaning them up with a snap of his fingers. He was too worn out to put more effort into it than that, and hey, got the job done, didn’t it?

They were still trying to catch their breath when they finally locked eyes, the post-coital sobriety already at work. Alastor’s ears flattened as he glared at the angel, a rare grimace on his lips.

“No one knows about this. Understood?” he threatened, the static crackling in the air around him.

“Ha! Who do you think you’re talking to? Now I know I fucked you stupid.”

Their fistfight didn’t last long, but provided a great cover for their absence when they stumbled back to the bar in desperate need of a strong drink.

So much for best behavior…

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

“How did you do it by the way, the last temptation of Christ?” Alastor couldn’t believe he was asking, the bitterness clear in his voice, but he figured it might be his only chance to find out without seeming too curious.

It took Lucifer a second to process the question, an easy smile spreading across his face. “Oh what, showing Jesus the world? I just whipped out a map*.”

Insufferable.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧     ✧     ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

ps: don’t worry, alastor was prepped before getting railed lol it just happened off screen 🫠

*biblically accurate if you can believe

[hiyashortking]

Dare the Devil

Summary: Charlie's hotel residents are becoming more successful at being wholesome and have to get creative about how they spend their time. Tonight, a game of Truth or Dare leads you to watching Lucifer make out with a LOT of people. Are you going to get a turn?

Disclaimers and credit: read this post before reading any of my content, please.

After the huge influx of new residents, around 20 or so, the hotel’s lobby and bar became a nightclub every night. The new residents invited their friends to spend time in the hotel, and almost overnight the hotel became the place to be. The original residents worried about this at first, but there appeared to be little to no drama or depravity, so Charlie allowed it. Everyone seemed to use these nights to unwind and dance. Charlie had Husk do a drink cap per person, and everyone was ordered to follow a drug-free policy for the princess. Most of the new residents wouldn’t have a comfortable place to go if they broke one of Charlie’s rules, so things were running smoothly for now.

After the original crew got used to some of the new people, and got used to how much noisier and more fun the lobby had become, there began a notable wholesomeness in the hotel. At least wholesome in comparison to how they used to behave. It’d been a very tame few weeks, and the initial residents were starting to become restless. They’d even looked forward to some of Charlie’s de-sinning exercises during the days, though not many of them would admit to having enjoyed those. Their abilities to stay away from debauchery at night meant engaging in juvenile ways of spending time. Truth or Dare. Spin the Bottle. Seven Minutes in Heaven. Seven Minutes in Hell. Never Have I Ever. If they played it when they were alive on earth, they were playing it again now. And not a single one of them was going to confess that they were actually having fun.

“So which of our little games are we playing tonight?” Angel Dust asked, settling into the sofa they typically sat at. He gave a meaningful look over to Husk, who was far away and busy at the bar.

Charlie put all of the games into a generator on her phone and pressed a button for the app to decide. “Truth or Dare, again!” she happily exclaimed.

Vaggie picked the first Dare. Charlie had her ask for someone’s consent to touch their butt. The group rolled their eyes, as Charlie’s dares were often either childish or silly.

Cherri Bomb picked the first Truth. Niffty asked her if she loved or only liked killing. Cherri Bomb seemed very uncomfortable, said she loved it of course, and then left the game to go dance.

Other residents joined in and left the game throughout the night, until they reached a moment when it was just Husk on his 15-minute break, Angel Dust, Lucifer, and you, squeezed together on the sofa. Angel Dust took the opportunity to mount his fella and dared him to spend his entire break with his tongue down his throat, a turn of phrase you hoped was an exaggeration.

“I pick both,” Lucifer told you. “I want a Truth and a Dare.”

“Okay, Truth: as the King of Hell, how often do you get approached for sex by strangers?”

“How often, like, how many times it happened today?”

You could not help but facepalm. You figured he was heavily sought after, but you were trying to ask how many times in a week or even a month, not how many times in a day!

He used his fingers to count, but when he finished with the pinky of the second hand, he started counting on both hands again. “Twelve ladies, fourteen gentleman, and seven nonbinary folks today, during my walk over here today.” He knew each of their genders, because he took the time to introduce himself, exchange pronouns, and spend a few minutes charming them. This was why he arrived to the hotel three hours later than he planned to. He also fucked two of them in an alley nearby, but he didn’t tell you that part.

Fuck, what must it have been like to be the most desired being in all of hell?

“Now the Dare,” he reminded you.

“Oh, um. Well. I dare you to spend the rest of the night kissing twelve ladies, fourteen gentleman, and seven nonbinary folks.”

“Whoa, I did not see that coming.”

“If you want to, of course. It’s just a game!” You tried to play it off like this was a random idea that just struck you out of boredom, but the reality was that you wondered a few things about him lately. You wondered why you’d only ever seen him reject advances. You weren’t privy to his recent alleyway sex, after all. And in the spirit of playing these immature games, you wondered what kissing him might be like.

He motioned as though he were to stand up but before doing so turned to you once more. “Your pronouns are they/them, correct?”

“Yes, Luci.”

“When I’m finished with everyone else, I’ll come back for you to be my seventh in that category, with your consent of course?”

Lucifer Morningstar wanted to make out with you? This would be exciting if it wasn’t so fucking ridiculous.

Standing up, he looked around the hotel lobby, seeming pensive.

“Everything okay?” you asked him.

“I haven’t done this in a while,” he said, almost as if to himself, but then turned and grinned sweetly at you. He fucked almost every day, but kissing wasn’t always included. “I might need a little moral support.”

“Oh, sure, how can I help, Your Majesty?”

He took hold of your hand. “How do I start?”

“Well, what are you looking for in a fun make out sesh?”

He seemed to take your question very seriously, if you could take the man’s cartoonish expressions and poses seriously at all. Holding his chin with his free hand and pursing his lips as if that helped him make deductions, he actually waggled his finger in the air in a Eureka! gesture when finishing his thought.

“I don’t know!” he told you, flashing his arousing sharp teeth.

A laugh escaped and surprised you. “My liege, you seemed like you were actually trying to figure this out.”

“Maybe instead of saving you for last, I could start with you and you can remind me of the different options.”

“If I didn’t know any better, Majesty, I’d think you were trying to get out of your Dare!”

He made a pearl-clutching motion and feigned an outraged gasp. “Why, Y/N, I cannot believe you would accuse the King of Hell of such a thing!”

You couldn’t help smiling whenever you were around him. “It seems to me like maybe Our King is worried he has lost his swagger.”

“I- don’t know what that means, but I am sure I have an abundance of swagger! If that is a good thing to have an abundance of!”

With a boldness you would question for days after this, you leaned closer to his ear and whispered: “prove it”.

Narrowing his eyes at you, the sweet expression gone from his face, he brought your hand to his mouth without breaking his gaze from you. He kissed the back of your hand. “I will see you after 32 kisses. Make sure you watch each one of them. And please be ready for the finale.”

When he walked away from you, you needed to steady yourself against the sofa as you struggled to breathe.

You spent the rest of the night engaging on and off with only the Truth parts of the game, as residents joined and left and returned throughout the night.

You were asked if you’d watched any of Angel Dust’s porn before you met him. Yup. You thought his acting was especially good in the one with the fraternity brothers.

You were asked who you would kiss, marry, or kill regarding the V’s. Marry was easy, definitely Vox. But you could go either way between kissing or killing the other two. Valentino seemed like he would be the better kisser, but your loyalty to Angel Dust made killing him the only decent option.

While participating in these games, you were making eye-love with Lucifer as he played with other people all night. He positioned himself and his, uh, partners in ways where he made sure he had your attention. He made certain you could see the way he moved his hands on their bodies, the way his fingers ran through or even tugged on their hair. He showed you his various skills, from slow kisses using his lips only, to drooling ones with both his and the other person’s tongues outside of their mouths. When he separated from one of these folks, you could see the magnificent outline of his thick hard cock in his trousers, and you crossed your legs reflexively as if to hide how much watching him was turning you on.

You lost count of his partners somewhere around number eight, which meant the countdown to when he would come meet you was going to become excruciating.

You watched as one person shivered as he sucked on their neck.

You could swear another one had an orgasm grinding against him, though both of them were fully dressed and wearing pants.

There was one person who spoke with him a lot, who got him to lift his gaze away from you for longer than the others had. He kissed them very sweetly when they parted, and you tried not to imagine what conversation they’d had.

There was one he pinned against the wall, the person’s legs around Lucifer’s waist, their hands clawing at his back. Lucifer’s ass looked amazing and you couldn’t believe the ease in which he held up people bigger than him.

After that one, he sat down at the bar and seemed to ask Husk for a drink, fixing his hair and sighing in your direction. He was trying to mouth something to you. You thought you could see “may I please stop now?” on his lips.

You made the symbol for Loser with your fingers, and pressed it to your forehead, sticking out your tongue at him.

He laughed, and downed whatever Husk handed to him.

He seemed a bit tired as he sighed, and you regretted giving him such a high number. He disappeared into the crowd which gave you a moment to realize you were beginning to grow tired, too. Sleepy. Before your mind could finish the thought, your body was up and looking for him. He was already charming somebody else, but excused himself as soon as he saw you waiting.

“I’m tapping out, I’m so tired. Congratulations, you win, My King.”

Did he actually look sad?

He took your hand into his again, and leaned closer to you to block out the music as he spoke into your ear. “Thank you for tonight. I had a wonderful time and I owe it all to you. I hope I was able to meet at least some of your expectations.” He slid an arm around your waist and pulled you into a gentle hug.

In your sleepy stupor, you responded, “It was one of the sexiest displays I’ve ever seen.”

“Please let me show you more of my abilities sometime.”

With a bit of a quiver, you put a hand on his chest to begin pushing and pulling away. As if your body had other plans, you leaned back in and placed your puffy lips on his cheek and breathed him in as you kissed it.

“That was my favorite kiss of the night, I hope you realize,” he said as you started backing away. He touched the spot you’d kissed gently as if to emphasize his point, cupping his hand over it in a protective manner.

“You’re full of shit, but hit me up tomorrow. I have notes for you,” you teased.

Surprise twinkled in the motion of his brows and widening of his eyes, and then you saw challenge in his smirk. “I look forward to my performance review.”

“Goodnight, Daredevil.”

“It’ll be an even better night tomorrow.”

[lovrsm]

ɢᴏʀɢᴇᴏᴜꜱ

sum: Having a hazy memory about last night. Was it just a one time thing, or would he be the one to accompany you on your lonely nights?

word count: 4.3k

pairing: charles leclerc x singer!reader

warnings: Cringe, Translated French, bad writing (English is not my first language. ) and smut insinuation.

Spotify - Apple Music

ᴍᴀɪɴ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ɪ - ᴘᴀʀᴛ ɪɪ - ᴍᴇᴅɪᴀ ᴀᴜ

"Alone, unless you wanna come along?" .

A ray of sunshine woke me up. I groaned, due to the headache I had to lay in bed. Closed my eyes again just in hopes so that I would fall back to sleep, spoiler alert: I didn't.

I was probably in bed for 5 minutes, till my headache was bearable, I decided to sit up. Legged crossed on the bed, I opened my eyes, first noticing a really nice home decor.

Home decor...

Where the heck was I?!

It was as if I was slowly downloading the data surrounding me.

Messy bed, my dress on the bureau, my heels tossed on the floor.

Not a hotel room, and I was using a mans shirt.

I stood up quickly, causing me to groan instantly. My head pounded.

But I shut myself up, deciding to go through one of the two doors on the bedroom.

I was in my underwear, only the black shirt was covering me so I wasn't fully exposed. As quietly as possible, I was almost on my tiptoes so I wouldn't make any noise.

What even happened last night?

I took in my surroundings, yup, this was definitely a single man's house.

Don't get me wrong, it was beautifully decorated, but you always notice this type of things.

The pool table, along with a mini bar, beside it a wide couch in which Charles was sleeping.

Holy shit, Charles!

The memories of last night came flooding into me... "Why don't we leave, would you like that?"

Leaving in a black car. (ironic, my brother is obsessed with motorsports and I can't even tell you two Car brands)

I was sleeping the whole ride, till he carried me into his house, I couldn't understand him.

At all.

I can't tell you if it was because of how drunk I was, or how charming he was. Ugh, I hated him for that, the way he'd touch me, but not the way I wanted him to.

He had me under his spell in just one night, and I can't even be with him.

I'm supposed to be in love with another.

_

"You're awake" a deep voice said. I had a book in my hands, it was in french. If it weren't for my French classes, which I missed every chance I could get, I wouldn't have understood anything. "Bonjour!" I said.

It was probably the worst french accent he has heard in his entire life, "Ah, vous parlez français ? Je ne te connais pas depuis un jour et tu es déjà plein de surprises !"

"Oui?" he started laughing at my stupidity, his contagious laughter making me do the same until my belly ached.

"I haven't laughed like that in quite a long time" I exhaled after we calmed down. He now laid down in the edge of what I assume is his bed, the sun hitting his face, making him look angelic. He turned to look at me, his eyes sparkled and I think I can't ask for anything more.

"I know I met you last night, but thank you so much for taking care of me, I know it wasn't easy with me being drunk." I half smiled at him.

"You look gorgeous when you smile like that, did you know that?"

I scrunched my nose, of course I was, and I wanted to say the same thing to him. Have you ever looked in the mirror? But I stopped myself, and got up from the bed. He followed my every move with his eyes.

"Should we get breakfast?" He couldn't stop looking at me up and down, and he just nodded.

It was as if this was my normal routine.

The first time I saw him, I did not know he'd had me on my knees.

_

"No, 'cause you were literally about to barf, and by some miracle you didn't and fell asleep"

"ugh, I won't be drinking that much next time" I had my head buried in my hands so that he couldn't notice my crimson cheeks. "Maybe next time you'll be the one taking care of me"

I looked up at him, and offered a smile. Haven't had this much fun with someone, since... forever. "I called Lando and he was as wasted as you, Carlos had to take him to his room, I guess the Norris know how to have fun, huh?"

"Oh my god, Lando!" I grabbed my phone and called him right away, Charles laughed, I guess he just realized how forgetful I could be.

"hmph?" I heard a tired voice from the other side of the phone. "I woke you up, didn't I?"

"yeah, is everything alright?"

"I'm alright, I just remembered you existed"

"Haha... so funny, love you too peanut. Oh! now that I'm awake, I gotta catch you up on some stuff!"

I was about to interrupt him, I would gladly hear gossip about what happened last night. But I was having breakfast with Charles, I couldn't leave him there alone eating…

But I watched as his phone buzzed, and I couldn't read the name, but it had a heart right next to it.

pfft, it must be nothing. But his smile got wider as he started speaking on to the phone. "... and then I was like, 'woah, is this really happening?!' and heck yes it was happening! Then..."

At some point, I stopped listening to Lando, and tried to focus on what Charles was saying on the other side of the table. Was he talking to a girl? Or why did he get so excited with a phone call?

Does he have a Girlfriend?

I didn't thought of it last night... but would that be so bad? There is nothing I hate more that what I can't have.

Maybe if he has a girlfriend I could get over this… whatever you wanna call it.

But… if he's single it would honestly be worst.

When I felt a small pain in my chest, I knew I had to stop overthinking. Why do I even care about what he does?

I have bigger things to worry about.

"So, yeah, basically we all ended fucked up and vomiting all over the place. But what about you, did you had any fun last night?" He chuckled.

"That sounds... horrifying and amazing Lando, and yes, I had the best night of the year" I was now looking at Charles, he grinned at me, and I copied his actions, I could feel the heat on my cheeks.

He left his phone on the table, and focused on his food.

"Told you!" a lot of movement was heard at the back of the call. "Oh, there's Carlos, I'll leave you peanut, call you later"

"See you Lando." I hung up

"So you had the best night of the year, huh?" Charles smirked. "C'mon, it was fun!" I answered.

"Of course, you spend most of it with me." He raised his hands to rest them on his head. With his gaze to the sky.

"I couldn't have had it any other way." He chuckled, his dimples showing off, making my heart beat faster, and my chest feel a warm and welcoming sensation.

_

It has been months. Months of calls late at night, whispering so Jake wouldn't find out.

If he ever payed any attention to me...

Every time my phone would buzz at around 11 p.m. I'd go to the balcony, or any other place where Jake wouldn't be around.

Quiet laughing, my stomach would turn over every time he said to me 'ma chou' or any time he'd speak in French or Italian, really.

He was truly and angel in disguise.

Was it wrong? Yes. Did we care? Not at all.

"When am I seeing you again?" He asked. I was in the sofa of the living room, Jake was fine fast asleep in my bed.

"Charles, I'm way too busy here, I'm barely able to leave my apartment , much less have the whole weekend to myself"

"Why don't I fly down there, hm?"

In my hands I had paper with chords and new lyrics for songs. But it was all a jumble, I didn't even know how it was going to work.

"I don't think that's a great idea. You need to practice for the next season, and I have to make new songs, which will take more than half of my day off-"

"Do you know how to play the piano?"

Piano?

"Uh, no, I never learned how to. I'm much more of a guitar girl, why?"

"You have no excuses, I'll be there by tomorrow night. Make some space for a piano at your home, I'm teaching you." I could hear him at his computer typing God knows what.

"IF you came, wouldn't it be easier to have a keyboard piano?"

"No, believe me, it is not the same. You'll love it, I promise" I smiled to myself, he will be here tomorrow night.

Wait, he'll be here tomorrow night.

"Charles, you can't come."

"Give me a good reason, and I'll cancel the plane tickets"

He already bought tickets?! shoot he’s fast

"Uh, my boyfriend is here, and you won't have a place to stay."

"I'm still waiting on that good reason, you know?"

"Charles-"

"It's not like I'm trying to flirt with you, am I?" We are playing a very dangerous game, we both know it, but I never thought we would get this far.

"Well..."

"we'll solve it once I'm there, goodnight ma ange." There are so many things that could go wrong. So many factors I should have said 'No' to, but those thoughts went out the window as my heart pounded knowing that he would come for me.

_

God, what am I doing, what am I doing.

3 a.m. and I'm still awake. I had his phone in my hands, I just needed his face to unlock it. I was so desperate to find what broke me months ago.

Messages, photos and screenshots. He even admitted it, but he said he would change. Am I dumb for staying? Yes. Am I dumb for giving him a second chance? Yes.

Now I'm paying what he did to me. Except I'm having the balls he didn't have to break up with me.

I just need the perfect excuse.

I tried to believe in him, I tried to ignore all my friends when they said 'paparazzi took pictures of him with another girl'

'That doesn't mean anything' I'd answer.

'But, he had his arms around her shoulders' They'd be even more concerned to the fact, that I did know it meant something, much more than just ‘something’

'He's like that with his family too.' normalizing everything he did wrong was all I knew how to do, well, ruining his reputation was always a choice.

He'd beg me to speak highly of him, saying that all the rumors where never true. But everyone knew they were. I'd clean his ass on social media so that his status wouldn't be broken.

All because I thought I liked him.

Now I'm paying the price. I should have broken up with him the second I saw the girl in our bed. My bed.

The second I saw him with flowers that were not meant to be for me.

The second I saw the photos all over the internet. I disappeared for months as not to be ashamed when people saw me. And the only one who should have been ashamed was him.

Charles treats me like a princess, heck, he makes me think everything is possible.

If he told me unicorns were real, I’d believe him!

I had to leave Jake. It's not like he was handsome or anything anyway.

It was probably social media who pushed me into believing we would be the perfect match.

Well, your sweet boy is a cheater. and I won't stand to it anymore.

I finally got it open, and the first few chats were girls.

unbelievable, yet not surprising.

This would have broken my heart, but oh, my heart was stolen by someone else.

Now all I felt was disgust.

I couldn't figure out if it was at him, for texting all these girls.

Or myself, for letting this happen.

I stood up and went to his suitcase and I started looking all over my apartment for things of his, everytime I found one I'd place it in his suitcase. I wanted him gone by this morning.

_

"So you're just throwing it all away?!"

"Did I, Jake, or did you?"

"You did, we worked it all out!" He raised his hands exaggeratedly.

"Oh heck no, why don't you tell that to all of the girls in your phone? I'm tired of this bullshit, I'm not being your little girlfriend just so that you look good in front of people!"

"As if you were important" He scoffed.

"You were always scared of that, I made myself look as if I were nobody just for you to show off! Believe me, everything you've accomplished is because of me, but I'm not even going to reproach you for that." I crossed my arms.

"Oh, I'm so so sorry miss universe, never knew you were important. Guess you'll have more songs to write about, thanks to me!"

What a dick.

He was now at the door with his suitcase, we both screamed at each other since he saw me in the living room with his stuff. He didn't even looked into my eyes, just started throwing shit at me.

As if it was all my fault.

Just wasted my last year there. Thank god it's over, I could now visibly breathe.

I closed the door silently. Locked it to never let him back in.

I looked into my apartment, and without his stuff all over the place... It made it seem cleaner, and as if this apartment actually belonged to me.

I played music all afternoon while remodeling the whole apartment, changing it to a way that I liked.

Months ago I wouldn't have thought moving on was this easy to do.

I guess all the love I had for him disappeared and I didn’t really noticed it did.

_

I've never felt so alive.

5 hours after a breakup, and I've never felt so alive. I called Lando, and told him about everything I kept from him.

He told me he was going to murder him, obviously joking (I think), but I told him I haven't felt this happy in years.

He said he was proud of me for getting out of that toxic relationship. Which made me cry, in the last few hours I have experienced I think every emotion a human could have.

I was watching a bit of what was happening on the internet from my Instagram. I told my manager that he can announce it when the time is right. But without any further explanations on why we weren't together anymore.

And so it was, it was one of the top themes of today, with only one hour of announcement.

How gossipy people are.

guilty.

I heard my home cell phone ring, the one that always rings when someone asks permission to enter my house.

And I knew exactly who was going to enter by my door any second. I rushed downstairs, and I opened the door he was there by the other side.

Looking charming, just as I remembered him. He held up his hand showing me a bouquet of flowers, with the same ones I told him a few weeks ago that I loved.

"So… the rumors spread out, can I buy you flowers now?"

He gave the flowers to my hand, hugged me with one hand around the waist and kissed me on the forehead.

"You have a goal, don't you?"

"I came to claim my prize, how am I going to do it if I don't put up a good fight first?"

I signaled him to come in, and he gladly did.

"Ah! Would you look at that?" Charles screamed from the living room, I was too busy looking for a place to put the flowers he gave me, so I didn't see what he was talking about.

These would look perfect here, I said to myself finding a plain white base I bought in Venecia, I never found a good purpose for it till now.

"You should take it as a compliment that I got drunk and made fun of the way you talk?"

Holy shit.

"Oh my, give that back!" I basically ran to him as I heard those words.

Now I know what he found, and it was hell of embarrassing.

In his hands, the sheets with my handwriting all over them, lyrics all over them.

But he kept going, walking quickly around the room so that I wouldn't take those papers away from him.

"I've got a boyfriend he's older than us. Hey, this sounds quite familiar doesn't it?" He mocked me. Oh he fucking knows who I'm talking about.

"Dickhead!" I said between laughters, I was already running out of air from running. I felt like a child, but in a good way. He just made it so divine.

He stopped to finally hand me in the papers with the lyrics, the sun was setting and it peered through my large window. I was looking down at my papers trying to figure out how much had he read.

I grab my chin to lift my gaze and look him in the eye. "You can say anything you want, ange"

Look down at his shirt to start talking. But he slowly brought it back up again. "To my face"

"What can I say? You're... gorgeous." He softly chuckled, I bit my lip.

I felt the moment stop, right here, right now.

It's just me and him.

His hand went to my jaw, caressing my cheek with his thumb. His other hand went to my waist. Mine went to his shoulders, and he finally closed the gap between us.

Sweet, simple and loving kiss.

_

I rushed through the hallways. My hair was a mess, the climate changing was finally hitting. Warmer breezes came so now I didn’t had to use cold weather outfits.

A black sparkly dress suited the occasion, I was finally presenting my project. The best of my career.

Finally reaching the office, I quickly introduced myself, since I was already running late.

My idea was not complicated at all, dark romance was in it.

Revenge was all written over it.

"This will totally be a hit, you made it again!"

"Thats so kind of you to say, thank you"

"It's well deserved, 4 months was more than enough for you to give us these amazing songs. Ugh, you're so amazing sweetie!"

None of it would have been possible if it wasn't for Charles. Most of the songs on my about-to-be new album were based from the piano. Later, in the studio, the arrangements were made.

Miracles do happen after all.

"Can't wait for what comes next." I shrieked.

"Neither do we, but you know this takes time, we can do a little more fixing and a lot a lot a lot of marketing. I can already see you on the hot 100 billboard" She smiled to me, and the team gave me thumbs up in approval.

Most of the time getting them to like one of my song, is quite hard, but I guess I'm getting their respect.

It all went as smooth as butter.

I excused myself from their office, eagerly waiting to get home.

The drive over there seemed like an eternity, but it was all worth it, getting out of the car I padded my dress so that the bottom part looked decent. Charles was waiting for me, before my meeting he had told me he had a surprise for me.

I finally opened the door, and soon my nostrils smelled pasta. Fresh pasta.

I physically relaxed, I realized I was home.

My eyes fixated on the piano, the one Charles bought so that he could teach me how to play it. That piano made miracles.

On top of it, fresh flowers were carefully placed in the edge, light pink popped from them. I smiled to myself, he must have listened when I told him my favorite color was pink.

I left my purse on the table, and decided to take a look at the kitchen.

There he was, my handsome man. He had an apron, with no shirt to cover him underneath. Some jeans, messy hair and his glasses gave him the final touch.

He had music on the background, and he was whistling to the melody while stirring the pasta, taking a close look at it so it wouldn’t burn.

He didn’t notice me, so I came up and carefully wrapped my arms around his waist, resting my cheek on his back.

His hand came up to mine, tangling our fingers together while the other kept stirring the pot, I smiled feeling his warm fingers on mine.

The next song played, a more upbeat song, and one of my favorites too.

I let him go, and he instantly turned around to see me, his sweet smile just made my whole day. His dimples were brighter than ever, and his eyes made my heart skip a beat.

I reflected his smile on my lips. He cupped my face and planted a deep desperate kiss, I chuckled in it.

“Ugh, I’ve missed you so much, you have no idea ma chérie” he said in between, I stretched my arms and wrapped them tightly around his neck.

He hold me and spun me around lifting my feet.

Laughter was in the air, the one feeling where he and I just existed, nothing else. Not media talking about my love life, not Jake calling on me at late hours at night, not his followers doubting about our relationship.

I did too, before he showed me all the love in the world. More than anyone has showed me in years, he showed me the stars and depths of the ocean with just a few weeks.

I needed nothing else, but him.

He stopped spinning, looked at me in the face, and removed a string of hair falling from its place. I can feel my cheeks burn, and it only took one look at him.

“Charles, you are the best thing that ever existed, you know that, right?”

I asked with concern, I want him to know.

To know he is my everything.

He laughed, warming my heart. “I know, you don’t need to say anything or do anything. I think- just think I love you” he whispered the end.

“I love you too.” I answered with the same tome he did. He caught my lips, deepening it. He almost desperately lifted me up, and I wrapped my legs around his torso.

In a matter of seconds, I felt a knot forming on my lower stomach. I should feel ashamed of how fast Charles makes me feel this way.

Soft moans fill the room along with the loud music.

“You don’t have to do anything” He said in-between kisses, repeating what he said earlier.

“I want to” I replied, tangling my fingers in his short hair. He did a final push, so that I could feel how hard he was.

My heartbeat rate was seriously not natural at this point.

He lifted slightly the bottom of my dress. I did not stop him, so he continued.

Slowly, his fingers where so close at my sensible area, I could almost feel them.

I closed my legs so that I could feel a little bit of friction. He quickly opened them again, wider this time.

His lips left mine he devilishly smiled at me as he got on his knees. If I wasn’t on the table I, for sure, would´ve folded.

He trailed wet kisses on my thighs, taking his sweet time to get where I wanted him to. With his hands, he opened my legs even more, finally, his tongue touched the sweet spot.

-

I didn’t know what to do.

Charles along with Lando made a big party for my new album, it had just been out for a few hours, and It was trending everywhere.

Every. Single. Song.

My relationship with Charles was relatively new, the new F1 season started, and I’d travel with both of my boys.

We were currently at Monaco, just after Friday practice.

I decided to throw Reputation out to the world this day, because of Monaco. Here is where everything started, and here is where I wanted to celebrate it.

I wanted everyone to know who my heart belonged with, and it was not going to be a soft launch.

Charles came to me with two shots on his hand, he handed me one and passed his arms around my shoulders, joining the conversation I was having with my team.

“Here he is, the golden boy!”

One of them said, he smiled and kissed my forehead.

“Oh he is handsome! No wonder all those songs were written about you.”

“Thank you Janet, I’m sure he knows how head over heels I am for him by now”

I said embarrassed, the lyrics on the songs weren’t that saint. Not at all.

Besides, everyone here knew who I was talking about in those songs, they all knew who was by my side all along.

I quickly took my shot, and Charles followed. I excused us from the group, they all waved us goodbyes as my lover and I went to a much more private place.

“I’m so proud of you” he said, kissing me gently and lovingly.

“Couldn’t have done it without you” I said in between. I felt his smile on my lips. I caressed his cheek, feeling his short beard on the tips of my hands.

“So… can I tell everyone how good I make you feel? Cause I wouldn’t want anyone else taking my place.”

“I think they will all know who I’m talking about, mon bel homme” he laughed at the horrible accent I was carrying.

“Ma belle fille” Charles sweetly said.

-

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