#I was lamenting having no inspiration when suddenly

[brennan-lee-mother]

I’m plagued by visions. Time to write another fic.

[poptartmochi]

once more, the Fortuna Presequel is greatly impacted by la musica 👯‍♀️👯‍♀️👯‍♀️

[demonvibez]

Hello, I came here to ask you a request: Mc is wearing a pajama (nightgown, little shorts, whatever you want) that shows a little bit too much. So one day, Mc comes down to the kitchen in the middle of the night, taking advantage about the brothers sleeping in their rooms so no one would see her like this, and suddenly, she bump into one of the brothers. How would they react?

A/N: Thank you so much for this request, and sorry for the delay! I started working on it, got writer's blocked, solved the block, then got...inspired, lol. This ended up being like 8 lil narrative one shots. Anyways - This is only part one of two; hope you like! ♡

Characters: [Lucifer / Mammon / Leviathan / Satan] x F! Reader

Word Count: 4.6k+

Rating: Teen [Suggestive Themes]

Tags: suggestive/sexual themes, making out, light petting/groping, reader = she/her pronouns, each demon has a lil backstory

[Part One of Two - Read Part Two Here]

It was late at night in the House of Lamentation, and you had just finished preparing yourself for bed. You had finished your homework for the day, as well as your nighttime routine, and it was time for you to settle down. Just as you sit down on the edge of your bed, you start thinking about how it would be nice to have a quick little snack before you turn in to sleep for the night. Picking up your DDD from the nightstand, you check the time to see just how late it was. You decide that it was probably late enough for everyone to be asleep, and it was safe to venture out into the house alone with what you are wearing - a skimpy spaghetti strap tank top and tiny shorts that leave little to the imagination. You push yourself up off the bed and cross the room, making your way towards the door. Leaving your bedroom door open, you make your way towards the kitchen next door . . .

For the Avatar of Pride, staying up late and overworking himself was a normal part of his daily routine. Usually after dinner, he hides himself away in his study so that he can start working his way through the mountains of paperwork sent to him from his superiors. Usually every night, he has the same routine - he finishes his RAD related paperwork, takes a break to patrol the House, stops by the kitchen for a cup of Hell Coffee and then back up to his study to deal with the paperwork associated with his political duties. 

Lucifer starts making his way down the hall for his nightly rounds through the House, as he normally does at this hour. He usually does this in order to make sure his brothers’ mischief was kept at a minimum, but it’s in order to keep you safe as well. He couldn't help but to notice that the chaos in their House had increased quite a bit since you had arrived - some of it from his brothers dragging you into their antics, some of it chaos created all on your own, and some of it external chaos that seeks to consume your beautifully shiny soul. When you first arrived here, you used to be a major source of his headaches. He used to struggle with how to punish you, seeing as you were the fragile little human sent here for Lord Diavolo's exchange mission. But now, the more Lucifer thinks about you, he cannot deny to himself the fondness that has grown for you within his heart. A smile twitches at his lips for a brief moment before he refocuses himself on his task.

Just as he is making his way down the stairs to check the first floor, he hears a noise coming from the kitchen area, a faint glow emitting from its frame and spilling into the hallway. He lets out an exasperated sigh to himself, believing it to be Beelzebub on one of his frivolous late night snack missions. Crossing his arms in front of his chest, he strides towards the kitchen door, scripting the lecture he wants to give in his mind as he walks. How many times must he punish the Sixth Born? 

When he reaches the doorway, he halts at the unexpected sight before him, and he can’t help but to stand back and observe. He sees you in the kitchen, illuminated by the light of the refrigerator, looking through what’s left of its contents for a snack. You look so innocent while doing so, completely unaware of your surroundings. He wasn’t used to seeing you like this - hell, he wasn’t even used to seeing you dressed like this. Usually dressed in your RAD uniform, the attire you were currently wearing is much more revealing than what he is used to seeing you in. The way the thin cotton fabric clings to your curves, he couldn't stop his eyes from roaming your entire body. You grab something from the fridge, closing it before making your way over to the kitchen island with the leftover Acidic Hell Fries you found. Sitting down with your back turned to the door, you open up the tray and lean in to take a bite, all the while Lucifer can’t help but notice the way your shirt rides up the arch of your back, the way the waistband of your shorts sit right at your hip, the way your skin just looks so soft. He wasn’t sure how a human could stir up such emotions in him, but he was in fact curious to see where it would take him. 

In a rare moment of impulsivity, Lucifer swiftly makes his way towards you. Before you even have time to register the Avatar of Pride's presence, he sets both of his hands on the table on each side of you, effectively trapping you between him and the counter. He leans down closer to your ear, the scent of his cologne filling your senses, as he whispers your name into your ear with a very seductive tone. "What do you think you're doing here," he asks, his tone husky as you can feel the warmth of his breath fanning against your skin. Your pulse accelerates as he presses his lips to your earlobe, his gloved hands now slowly finding their way around your waist as Lucifer trails light kisses down the soft flesh of your neck. You would usually have some sort of snarky comeback for Lucifer, stating how it was obvious why you were in the kitchen shoveling fries into your face at half past midnight. But in this moment you couldn't muster up a retort, your brain beginning to fog up with the haze of pleasure that Lucifer's touch can bring. As he continued to tease your neck, occasionally nipping at it with his fangs, his hands began to drift lower on your body, lightly teasing at your waistband. One of his hands pulls your chin up to him, your eyes fluttering shut as his lips collide with yours in a way that sets your soul ablaze with passion.

He slowly pulls away from the kiss, your eyes slowly opening to see his crimson orbs gazing back at you with lust, love and admiration. He slightly loosens his hold on you, before turning you around on the barstool you sat upon to face him. He brushes the hair out of your eyes, tucking it back behind your ear before leaning down to press one more kiss on your lips. When he pulled away this time, you chased his lips with his own, filling him with a sense of pride at the idea that you're craving more of him - much like he craves more of you. He lets out a small chuckle before suddenly sweeping you up in his arms, your legs dangling over one side while your arms instinctively wrap around his neck for safety.  "We're heading straight to my room," he said along with your name in a confident tone, "and I hope you have plenty of energy, because we won't be getting much sleep tonight." He carried you out of the kitchen and up the stairs, taking no time getting you to his room and into his silk sheets. 

Mammon had just recently arrived home about an hour ago from one of his many side hustles he did to help earn some extra Grimm and pay back a few of his debts. The witches have been hassling him even more than normal recently, threatening a variety of curses if he doesn't comply with their demands, so he's had to take up multiple side hustles in order to make enough money. He could have sworn he paid them off a while ago - math is one of Mammon's strong suits and he always keeps his debt ledger up to date. He's pretty damn sure the witches are just jealous of you, and take it out on him one of the few ways they know will work. They would never mess with you directly - and risk earning the wrath of all seven Avatars of Sin? And perhaps even the Future King of the Devildom himself? Hell nah. They'll just keep toying with Mammon the way they know best.

Normally, Mammon would be pretty exhausted after a grueling shift of serving tables at Hell’s Kitchen, but tonight for some reason, he was feeling restless and couldn’t seem to settle down. He had completed his nightly routine and settled into bed, but he found himself feeling restless, scrolling Devilgram instead and finding himself growing bored rather quickly. After tossing and turning in his bed for what felt to him like an eternity, he let out an annoyed groan and pushed himself out of bed. If he couldn’t lull himself to sleep, he might as well go find his favorite human. He crossed the room to pick up his designer underwear and sweatpants off the couch, slipping them both on before making his way to the door. Once his door is closed, he starts briskly but silently making his way across the hall and down the stairs, doing his best to avoid running into any of his brothers - namely, Lucifer. 

Making a beeline straight for your room, Mammon notices the door is open and just walks inside as if he owns the place. “Oi, human! I’m bored, why don't ya-” he says, before looking around to see that the room is actually empty. “Where the hell even are ya,” he mumbles to himself with an exasperated huff, turning about-face and exiting your room. As he steps out into the hallway, he finally notices the kitchen light is on. He starts stomping his way over to the kitchen, mumbling something about how much work it is to watch after one stupid little human, when he crosses the threshold of the door and almost bumps into you as he is turning the corner. "Aye, what gives," he says in an almost shouting tone, "ya gotta watch it, human! Ya gotta be more careful! Ya ain't always gonna have the Great Mammon to..." he trailed off as he finally looks down at you, taking in fully just how you look and what you are wearing. His eyes widen and his jaw drops, standing there completely frozen in shock as his eyes scan you up and down repetitively. 

Despite the many times the two of you have shared a bed, he has never seen you wear something so small and form fitting as pajamas before. Usually when he was over, you'd just wear an oversized tee shirt and some baggy sweatpants, which was usually cute and endearing in its own way. But tonight, since you assumed you would be spending the night alone, you wore something you thought no one would see you in. And now here you are in the kitchen, the Avatar of Greed stood in front of you, a blushing and stammering mess. The more of his golden eyes took in of you, the more he could feel the greed rise up within him. Every little inch of skin, every little curve of your body has Mammon craving more and more, his avarice knowing no bounds when it comes to you. Typically, in moments like these, the tsundere side of Mammon's brain would kick in, and a flurry of denials would leave his lips before you could even playfully accuse him of anything. Seeing you like this has Mammon forgetting all about those silly habits, his mind focused on wanting only one thing - you.

In this moment, Mammon can't help but succumb to his greed. His hands reach out to pull you into his bare chest, his demon form now on full display and eyes glowing as gold as Grimm. His arms tighten around you in a possessive hold as he buries his face in your hair, your scent as intoxicating to him as the most expensive Demonus on record. You feel his hands roam your body, feeling both his soft skin and his rings' hard metal gliding up and down your back. You melt into his touch, your arms instinctively wrapping around his torso.  "I've been lookin' for ya," he mumbles into your hair. Before you can even fathom a response, Mammon's hands find their way under your ass, hoisting you up and setting you on the counter. He leans in and presses his lips to yours with a sense urgency you hadn't seen from the Avatar of Greed previously, his yearning and need for you growing with each kiss. As his tongue brushes your lips, they part and allow him entrance, and the way your two tongues dance with each other sends Mammon over the edge, feeling that same greed start to build within you. Mammon's kisses became hungrier and sloppier the more he could feel his sin in the air, a hint of lust mixing with it as his hands squeeze your ass, your own hands roaming his beautifully brown torso. "Mine," he states simply, as he breaks the kiss momentarily. 

He picks you up once again, your legs squeezing his waist as you fling your arms around his neck. He runs off with you to his room to have his way with you - and to hoard you to himself like the Devildom's finest treasure.

It wasn’t at all unusual for Leviathan to stay up all hours of the night. On this night in particular he was counting down the hours until the newest merch drop from his favorite idol group, Sucre Frenzy. He picks up his Bufo Egg Milk Tea to take a sip, only to hear the slurping sound of his cup being empty. Looking at the clock at the bottom right of his monitor, he mentally notes that he still has an hour and a half before the drop, which should be more than enough time to run downstairs and raid the fridge. He presses pause on the song he was listening to on Devilfy, pulling off his headset and making his way out of his bedroom door. He pulls his DDD out of the pocket of his hoodie, swiping it open and pressing on the 'Mononoke Land' app. Checking to see if there were currently any in-game spirits lurking in the House, Levi games as he presses forward towards the kitchen, his own IRL mission falling to the back of his mind as he continued to focus on the side quest on his phone. One hand in his pocket while the other clutches his device, his tail slides along the handrail of the staircase, making sure he doesn't stumble as he tunes out the rest of the world. 

He really hopes you can make it to hang out for the drop tonight! When he invited you at dinner you seemed interested, but you told him you weren't sure if you'd be able to stay awake that late or not. He would really love it if you are able to - everything is more enjoyable for the Lord of Shadows when he has his Henry by his side! It makes him excited even thinking about it! Maybe he'll swing by your room on the way back from the kitchen and see if you're awake! Or...that maybe awkward? What if you're asleep and he wakes you up? What if he annoys you? Maybe he'll just send you a text instead. Either way, he loves you more than all of his anime combined, and it would be the highlight of his entire month to spend tonight's event with you.

Refocusing on his game, he turns the corner to cut back towards the kitchen. He doesn't even notice the kitchen light on ahead, nor does he hear the clattering and clanking coming from inside. All he can seem to focus on is Mononoke Land. As he walks past your room, he does a double take, expecting to see you in your bed. On second glance, he notices you missing from your room, and Leviathan couldn't help but be confused as he pauses in your doorway. It's almost one in the morning and you aren't in your room?! Where in the Devildom could you possibly be?! You're probably hanging out with one of his brothers, aren't you?! You're probably in one of their rooms, in one of their beds, doing Dia knows what while he's down here getting some stupid snacks for his stupid merch drop. 'Stupid stupid stupid I'm so stupid! Of COURSE she wouldn't want to waste time her time with a disgusting otaku like me! IT'S NOT FAIR IT'S NOT FUCKING FAIR!!' A wave of envy washes over him so powerful that he fights everything within himself not to summon Lotan and flood the House. His fists clench his DDD, stressing it from the pressure as his knuckles turn white. His eyes blaze a bright orange as jealousy rages within him like a hurricane brewing over the sea.  

Wanting nothing more than to barricade himself in his room and never come out, Leviathan angrily marched onward towards the kitchen, determined to get his snacks and get the hell back to his room so he can wallow in his feelings. Hastily making his way through the kitchen's threshold, he doesn't see you as he barrels straight into you, knocking you backwards. Before his mind can fully process what's going on, his tail grabs ahold of you, wrapping around your waist and preventing you from hitting the floor. His eyes finally connect with yours, and he realizes that it's you he has run into. A quick scan of the room tells him you had been in here alone, and suddenly he feels foolish for the jealous tantrum he was throwing in his mind. 

"I-I'm s-s-sorry...I didn't see y-you th-" he stammers, now looking down at you to see exactly what you were dressed in. Is this what you normally wear to bed? Levi hadn't ever seen anything like it in real life. The way the fabric highlights all of your best features, putting just the right amount of emphasis on how perfect your curves were...he could have sworn you were drawn by his favorite manga artist. His eyes roamed your body up and down, his face heating up as rapidly as his heart rate is rising. 'OH FUCK, I'm staring aren't I?! She probably hates me, I'm so gross, such a worthless perv, I need to stop staring WHATTHEFUCKDOIDO?!?' he panics internally, his hands starting to tremble. He tilts his head down to focus on the floor, when he finally processes that his tail has been autonomously wrapped around your waist the entire time. "I'M SO SORRY," he half shouts at you, as he starts to unravel his tail. 

Suddenly, Levi takes pause, as he hears you gently call out his name, one of your hands resting on his tail while the other reaches out to stroke his cheek. "Levi...whatever you're thinking right now...stop," you reassured him. Before he could hide his face from you, you leaned in to press your lips to his in a soft but loving kiss. At first, Levi just stands there frozen in shock but after a moment he kisses you back. He's still unsure of what to do with himself - he doesn't want to ruin this moment - but he doesn't want it to end either, so he stands with his hands awkwardly at his sides and pours every ounce of love of passion he can into the kiss. While he may not know what to do with his hands, his tail seemed to enjoy exploring your body, causing you to let out a tiny soft moan when it makes its way around the top of your thigh. You wrap your arms around his neck, continuing the kiss as you press your body against his. 

After a few more moments, the two of you pull away from each other, both trying to catch your breaths. Before Leviathan could even muster a response, you grab his hand, the sweetest of smiles plastered across your face. "Come on, let's go to your room, Levia-chan. I can think of a few ways for us to kill time until your merch drop launches," you said as you start pulling him towards the door. Suddenly you weren't tired, and Levi didn't care about the snacks - with you, he may even end up forgetting about the merch drop.

Before you had even thought of grabbing a snack from the kitchen, Satan had already made his way down there and was rifling his way through the fridge looking for something suitable to feed his secret kitten friend out in the garden. Earlier in the night, Satan came outside to the garden in order to calm down and let his inner rage subside. He had wanted to spend the remainder of his evening with you curled up in his lap as he reads to you, a warm fire crackling in the fireplace nearby, as the two of you ignore the world for each other and a great plotline - there was no other way he'd rather spend his evening. But of course, his insufferable eldest brother had to stick his prideful nose in where it didn't belong and drag you away, just as he was asking you to join him after dinner. It was almost as if the Avatar of Pride has an extra sense for when Satan wanted alone time with you, always interfering and coming up with some smug excuse as to why you need to be stolen away right when Satan needs you. That pompous ass was always going out of his way to stoke the flames of Satan's wrath on purpose! 'One day he'll get back at that bastard, he'll put him right in his place!'  

Satan continued pacing in circles in the garden, his demon form on full display as rage flows through him like an ice river through one of the lower pits of hell. He wasn't doing the best job at calming himself down at first, you not being there to help ground him, so it was taking a bit longer than normal. It was always so much easier to calm himself with you there - just a few simple words or a quick hug usually doing the trick. But for now he was alone, and he was drawing a blank on what he else should do. He completed one more pace around the garden before, before letting out an annoyed huff and sat himself down on the nearest bench. As he was about to pull out his DDD to text you to see where you were, he hears a rustling in the bushes. His emerald eyes scan the area, no signs of life immediately apparently, before he sees a pair of glowing eyes peer out at him from underneath one of the bushes. A small smile tugs at his lips as it dawns on him who the eyes belong to - one of his stray feline friends that likes to wander through every now and then. He pushes himself up off the bench and slowly crosses over towards the cat, holding out his hand as he tries to coax it out of the bush. The cat immediately starts to back into the bush, shaking it's head at Satan, causing him to take pause. He chuckles to himself as he comes to the realization of what she is asking for - the cat wants a treat. 

Satan straightens himself up, making his way back into the House to find some cat friendly snacks in the kitchen. When he arrives there, he is alone, and makes a beeline straight for the fridge. It was usually wishful thinking for anyone in the House of Lamentation to try to hide food in the kitchen, but sometimes Satan was able to get away with it for the sake of his kitten buddies. Crouching down to open the bottom drawer, Satan reaches in to pull out some of the Devildom cat treats he had stashed back behind the drawer. Setting the pouch of treats on the counter, he opens up one of the cupboards and pours what is left of the treats onto a saucer, before tossing the empty wrapper in the trash and making his way towards the kitchen door. Little did he expect in all of this, you came walking through the door at the same time, neither of you really paying attention. Before either of you can stop yourselves, you quite literally run into each other, the saucer of meaty cat treats smooshing against Satan's chest and then dropping to the floor. Satan can feel his wrath rising inside him once again, drenching him like an ice cold shower, his aura turning dark as his demon form makes an appearance once again. He hasn't even looked up to see who caused the collision, assuming one of his brothers is to blame yet again, his jaw clenching as his mind races to formulate it's retaliation. 

His glowing green eyes finally lift to see exactly who the guilty party is, only for his eyes to meet yours instead. You begin to stammer out a stream of apologies, but seeing you immediately calms the inner turmoil of his mind, the storm suddenly calm within him. 

His gazes roams over you for a moment, Satan suddenly finding himself speechless as he takes in exactly how breathtaking you look in such casual attire. The way straps of your tank top accentuate your collar bones, giving way to how the fabric hugs your perfect chest...Satan suddenly couldn't remember what he was mad about in any point in the day. He couldn't even bother to care why he was in the kitchen in the first place. He gently takes one of your hands with both of his, raising it to his lips to press a kiss into your knuckles. A warm smile spreads across his face as his hands find your hips, pulling you closer into him. One of his hands moves to rub the small of your back as the other tilts your chin upwards to him. He holds your gaze for a moment, adoration apparent in his eyes, before he leans in to share a passionate kiss with you. 

The moment his lips caress your own, your heartbeat goes through the roof, and you can't help but to lean into him and melt into his touch. His hand on your chin moves to hold the back of your neck, his tongue brushing your bottom lip, asking for more. Your hands find themselves on his chest as your lips back, your tongues clashing together in a desperate bid to feel more of each other. Your hands slide down his chest and abs, lightly tugging at his belt when you get to his waist. He chuckles into the kiss before nipping at your bottom lip with one of his fangs, grabbing your hips with both hands as he slows the pace of the kiss. 

Eventually he breaks the kiss, resting his forehead on yours. "You always know how to make me feel better, kitten," he said as you slide your hands up his front and lace them behind his neck. "What do you say we retreat to my room to continue this encounter?" he leans in to steal one more kiss from you lips before taking you by the hand and pulling you up to his room.

· demonvibez ♡ 2023 · do not copy, repost or modify ·

· likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! ♡ ·

[fandoms-x-reader]

Body Swapping

Inspired By: @ricaaathelittlelamb

Headcannons

Summary: In one way or another, Solomon is trying to perform a spell when something goes wrong and you end up body-swapping with one of the demon brothers. While you're in their body, you get a first-hand look of what it's like to live with their sin and it brings you closer to them (individually).

Lucifer was in a very important meeting with Lord Diavolo and demanded that no funny business go on at the House of Lamentation while he was gone.

Which of course meant that funny business had to occur. It was a must.

At least that was the excuse Belphie and Satan gave you as they led you to the library where Solomon was already waiting for the three of you. 

“What exactly are you planning?” you asked, giving them a suspicious look.

“Just a simple transformation spell,” Satan replied, but you could see the sinister look in their eyes.

“So, have you decided on what it’ll be then?” Solomon asked the two brothers. They shared a look with each other before Satan replied, “A sheep.”

“A sheep?” you questioned and when Satan locked eyes with you, you understood what he meant. They were going to turn Lucifer into a sheep while he was in the meeting with Lord Diavolo.

“He’ll be absolutely humiliated,” Belphie added, a sinister chuckle escaping his lips. Bad idea.

“How are you even going to perform a curse like that?” you questioned and Solomon held up one of Lucifer’s socks. 

Come to think of it, Lucifer had recently been asking you if you had seen his socks.

“We just needed an item of his,” Solomon replied, beginning to gather the ingredients together.

“And why exactly are you helping them, Solomon?” you questioned curiously. Solomon gave you a happy smile before answering, “I have my reasons.” As mysterious as ever.

You sat back and watched as Solomon said the incantation. Clearly, they were all determined to perform this spell and nothing you said would change their minds. 

You watched as the smoke filled the room, blocking out nearly everything in sight and when it disappeared you were seated in the assembly hall in front of Lord Diavolo and Barbatos.

“Diavolo?” you questioned, furrowing your eyebrows. “Yes, Lucifer?” Diavolo asked in return giving you a curious look. Lucifer?

You looked down at your body and mentally cursed. Of course, Solomon messed up the spell. You had to bite your lip from laughing at the mental image of Lucifer in your body, standing in front of the Anti-Lucifer League and their honorary member as he finds out what they did.

As angry as you were, you knew Belphie and Satan would be upset if you passed up the opportunity to find out information only Lucifer would know.

“Diavolo,” you said, sitting up a bit more as you locked eyes with him. “I have to know - what do you really think of me?” you questioned with an innocent smile.

Diavolo was taken aback by your question but a large smile soon spread across his face as he replied, “I think you’re wonderful. You’re an excellent leader and a loyal friend.”

As Diavolo spoke you felt a deep sense of gratification. No, not gratitude - pride. It was an amazing feeling. 

A graceful smile broke across your lips as you silently pleaded with Lord Diavolo to continue his praises.

Diavolo opened his mouth to continue speaking when the door to the assembly room suddenly burst open and a very angry-looking “you” came walking through the door.

“Lord Diavolo, do not say another word,” your body stated and both he and Barbatos looked at you as if you had lost your mind. The audacity. 

But then Diavolo looked at you closer and he understood what was happening. “Y/N, I see that you’re just as charming in your body as you are in Lucifer��s,” Diavolo stated, looking somewhat amused by the situation.

Your body walked forward as if to come lecture you when suddenly the room filled with smoke and you were back in your body. You were teleported to the House of Lamentation before Lucifer had a chance to scold you thanks to Solomon who figured it was the least he could do. 

When Lucifer got back to the House of Lamentation, the lecture was a long one. You had tried to explain that technically you were a victim as well. But, he pointed out that it didn’t stop you from taking advantage of his body to gain information from Diavolo.

After the first hour, you had grown bored and decided to use what you had found out about Lucifer to your advantage. 

“Is there anything else you’d like to say for yourselves?” Lucifer questioned, his gaze narrowing. “You’re really great at giving lectures, Lucifer,” you replied. Satan and Belphie looked at you like you had just grown another head while Lucifer stared at you in shock. He didn’t expect that.

“What?” he asked, more to himself than anything else. “It’s just the way you reprimand with so much passion - it makes me really respect you,” you replied nonchalantly.

Satan and Belphie realized it was a trick. Lucifer knew it was a trick. Yet, he couldn’t help the swell in his heart. Lucifer sent one more glare to his younger brothers before asking them to leave.

You, however, were going to have to pay for stopping his lecture short. And you did so by sitting next to Lucifer and giving him praises as you held his hand or gently ran your fingers through his hair. You started this game and now you were “suffering the consequences”.

Except it didn’t feel like a consequence to either of you and you were actually glad to have some alone time with Lucifer. Especially when you got to see his eyes glowing blue with pride as he gave you a smile full of love.

Mammon felt an indescribable need to be around you almost all the time. It didn’t matter where you were going or what you were doing - Mammon wanted to be there.

Which is how he got stuck in the lab with you and Solomon while you were trying to create a spell. 

The two of you were partners in a class and had to perform a specific curse in order to pass the assignment. 

You were in charge of reading the instructions to Solomon and he was the one actually putting the ingredients together since he had more practice at spells.

And Mammon was being completely unhelpful as he sat next to you, bored out of his mind.

“How long is this gonna take?” Mammon asked, looking over your shoulder to read from the spellbook in your hands.

“If you���re bored, you can leave. You’re not the one who has to do the assignment,” you replied with a small smile.

“And leave ya’ alone with Solomon. You’re just askin’ for a death sentence,” Mammon replied, making you chuckle.

You told Solomon the next ingredient to add and then Mammon took the book out of your hand. “Lemme help,” Mammon told you, reading down the page and telling Solomon the next few ingredients. 

“See, it goes faster if you tell him more things at once,” Mammon stated and you playfully rolled your eyes at Mammon, taking the book back and giving Solomon the last ingredient after the one Mammon said.

Things got fuzzy as Solomon added the last ingredient and the next thing you remembered was staring at yourself, both of you looking very confused.

“Now see this is what I meant! This is why I can’t leave ya’ alone with Solomon. He turned you into another me!” your body said and it was obvious who it actually was inside.

“Not exactly,” you replied. Mammon turned to look at you confused and you motioned towards your body. Mammon’s cheeks turned a deep shade as he realized he was in your body.

He was doing everything he could not to look down at your body. Just because it was him in it didn’t mean it wasn’t your body and we all know he had a big weakness when it came to you.

Mammon glared at Solomon who immediately responded with a smile. “Why don’t the two of you go shopping for a bit I’ll have a cure by the time you come back!” Solomon suggested, leading you both to the door.

Mammon hesitantly agreed and you followed him around town, looking through the windows of the different shops.

It didn’t take long for you to find something that you wanted and as you entered the shop, you slowly began to feel more and more greedy as you grabbed random things that you didn’t need but wanted.

Mammon had walked around the store as well and was wondering why he didn’t want a single thing. Was there something wrong with him?

Then he saw you with your arms full of stuff and he understood what was happening.  Your eyes had a familiar gold glint to them and Mammon couldn’t help but admire you from afar. Was it bad to enjoy watching you indulge in his sin?

He didn’t have the heart to tell you that you couldn’t get what you wanted. He would give you the world if he could. So he simply fronted the bill, knowing he would regret it later.

Luckily, Solomon approached the two of you before you could enter another store. He quickly said the spell that undid the effects of the curse and you were thankful to be in your own body.

Then you saw Mammon standing there, holding the bags of stuff you had just bought and an intense wave of guilt crashed down on you. 

“Mammon…come on, maybe they’ll let us return the items since we didn’t fully leave,” you told him, gently taking his hand to lead him back to the store.

Mammon gave you a soft smile before replying, “No, it’s okay. These are all things that ya’ wanted.”

“But, I don’t need them,” you argued, trying once again to lead him back to the store. Mammon let out a small sigh before saying, “Would ya’ just let me spoil you for once.”

You were taken aback by his words and your heart melted as you saw him looking down at the ground with a small blush on his cheeks. He just wanted to do something nice.

You couldn’t take this away from him. “Alright, then you deserve a thank you,” you replied, giving him a chaste kiss that only made him blush harder.

Thanks to the mishap, it was easy for you to understand how greed can overpower you and lead to some bad choices. But those bad choices can sometimes lead to good things. 

Levi had only wanted to replicate a spell that he saw in one of his anime. 

The spell was completely harmless. It was meant to bring a stuffed animal of your choosing to life. A simple animation spell.

He requested the help of Solomon who - after much begging from the Avatar of Envy - agreed to help. 

And of course, Levi had to invite his player two along as well. He wouldn’t want you to miss out on all of the fun!

So now the three of you were standing in a circle around a Ruri-Chan stuffed animal. Levi had sent her longing gazes as Solomon prepared for the spell and you couldn’t help but notice them. He really was obsessed with her.

Levi handed Solomon the instructions on how to perform the spell. And Solomon read them step by step, following them down to the detail. 

Except, clearly he didn’t do something right as you and Levi were now in each other’s bodies. 

You let out a small gasp as you and Levi locked eyes, the two of you understanding the predicament you were now in.

Levi was a blushing mess as he tried to back away from the two of you, only to stumble to the ground. “Ow!” Levi exclaimed as he hit the hard floor. 

“Levi, are you okay?” you questioned. It didn’t seem like a hard fall, but from the way he acted, you would think he fell down the stairs.

“Normie bodies are so weak,” Levi pouted as he looked back up at you. You looked over at Solomon who was looking confused as he read over the instructions. 

“Levi, what spellbook did you get these instructions from?” Solomon questioned. He was sure he had done the spell right.

“Spellbook? I got it off the fan page for the anime,” Levi replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Wait - this wasn’t a real spell?!” you questioned as you turned to look at Levi. 

“It’s a real spell - it’s just not what Levi wanted. These were instructions for a body-swapping spell,” Solomon replied.

“You don’t say,” you responded sarcastically, giving Solomon a slightly irritated look. “If you knew it was a body-swapping spell, then why did you say it?” you asked him.

“I honestly wasn’t paying attention to the spell because I didn’t think it would work,” Solomon replied. 

You turned to talk to Levi when you saw him cradling his Ruri-chan plush in his hands. You felt a spark of envy inside of you, but you did your best to calm yourself down. Were you really jealous of a plush? Still, sometimes you couldn’t help but wish Levi looked at you like that.

“Someday I’ll make you mine,” he said barely above a whisper as he held the plush to his chest and you felt yourself lose control. It was like a ball of fire built up inside of you as Levi’s tail suddenly snatched the plush from your body and threw it across the room.

“Hey!” Levi said, turning to scold you but he stopped in his tracks when he saw the way your eyes were glowing orange. Were you jealous?

Levi was a bit excited at the idea of you being jealous of the doll just because Levi had been hugging it close to him. 

He didn’t have time to relish in the feeling though as Solomon quickly reversed the spell. 

When you were back in your body, your gaze met Levi’s and a deep blush coated your cheeks. You knew that you had only reacted that way because you were in Levi’s body, but it didn’t change how you felt about Levi and you couldn’t help but feel like you had just exposed your true feelings.

Levi isn’t good at taking advantage of situations, so unfortunately for him, you left before he could say anything else.

But, he does pay attention more to you when the two of you are hanging out instead of his figures. He knows the difference between reality and fiction and he didn’t want to lose someone who was real to his fantasies.

Part of him did like seeing his sin on you though, so he’s not opposed to trying to make you jealous again with his love for his anime characters. Especially if you had spent too much time that day with his brothers.

You were falling a bit behind on the curses and hexes portion of your classes. Solomon had offered to help you after class and since Satan was well-versed in the area as well, he decided to help too.

You sat next to Satan as Solomon demonstrated how to do the curse you were working on. “And then you add this ingredient in and it’s done!” Solomon said with a proud smile.

“Wait, did you add the-?” Satan tried to ask but it was too late. Smoke filled the air as you suddenly felt dizzy.

You opened your eyes and let out a small gasp as you saw yourself looking right back at you. “What’s going on?” you asked, but your voice was different.

You looked down and recognized the clothes you were wearing. A blush coated both of your cheeks as you realized what had happened. “Solomon - you didn’t,” you said, looking up at the sorcerer.

“It looks like I forgot an ingredient,” Solomon replied a bit sheepishly. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be a great sorcerer?” Satan asked him. Hearing your voice when you weren’t in your body was throwing you for a loop and only added to the irritation that was currently building.

“I am a great sorcerer,” Solomon argued and you felt your chest tightening. Solomon opened his mouth to say something but you cut him off.

“Just fix it,” you snapped at him, your eyes beginning to glow green from your frustration. 

You felt someone place their hand in yours, and you turned to see it was yourself. Well, Satan. Even though it was your body, he had a strong presence and it still comforted you.

He knew his anger well. He knew how easy it was to set him off. He had centuries of practice and he still loses control. So he could only imagine how you were feeling.

He, on the other hand, was feeling amazing. He felt perfectly content and it reminded him of the time he spent with you. When he was in his body, that was the only time he felt content. 

And as much as his anger was a hindrance at times, Satan was grateful for it. If he felt happy all of the time, then he was afraid that he wouldn’t consider his time with you as special. 

Was that how you felt? Satan was now overthinking things. If you felt that content all the time, then being around him wouldn’t make a difference right? Not in the same way it made a difference for him.

“Okay, done!” Solomon suddenly said and the room once again filled with smoke. You let out a breath of relief as you looked down and saw that you were back in your body. 

You gave Satan a smile and he returned it, but you noticed there was a hidden emotion behind his eyes. 

“Well, I think that’s enough studying for one day,” Solomon stated before leaving the room with his items. 

You turned to face Satan who seemed to be lost in thought. “I think I should just stick with you teaching me next time,” you told him with a smile, hoping to lighten the mood.

Satan let out a small half-hearted laugh as he replied, “It’d certainly be less risky.” You could still see thoughts running through his mind. 

Just as you were about to ask him what was wrong, he spoke up.

“Do all humans feel that content?” Satan asked curiously, bringing his eyes to yours. You were a bit surprised by his question.

“I mean, how is anything supposed to make you happy if you’re always happy,” Satan added, further explaining his question. 

“Well, being content is different than being happy. Just because I feel content doesn’t mean there aren’t things that can make me more happy or give me butterflies,” you answered.

You had an idea of what Satan was getting at. An unspoken thing between the two of you. Something that was always felt but never talked about it.

“Butterflies?” Satan questioned. He had read many books on humans, but he had never heard of a feeling that resembled an insect.

“Like this,” you responded, gently placing your lips on his. Satan was surprised but immediately responded to the kiss, gently pulling you closer. 

When you pulled away, the two of you locked eyes and he understood what he was feeling.

Butterflies.

“I’m thinking - matching colors,” Asmo told you as he gently grabbed your hands in his, inspecting your nails.

“Asmo, I told you, she needs her hands to perform this spell,” Solomon replied and Asmo let out a small sigh. 

Solomon was trying to teach you how to do a particular spell but Asmo had wanted to spend some time with you because he hadn’t seen you all day.

The two of them argued for a good ten minutes about which was more important when you finally had enough and told them you would do both.

So here you were, sitting on Asmo’s bed as he painted his nails while Solomon was doing his best to instruct you how to do the spell.

“She only needs one hand at a time,” Asmo replied, letting go of one of your hands as he began painting the nails of the one he still had in his grasp.

Solomon wasn’t completely pleased but accepted it. At least you could use one of your hands. It was definitely less efficient, but sometimes there was no arguing with Asmo.

“Okay, now, hold out your hand and repeat after me,” Solomon told you. You looked at the item in front of you. It was one of Asmo’s hand mirrors and you were trying to do a transformation spell to turn it into an apple.

The spell would only last five to ten minutes since it was your first time performing it. But the more you did it, the longer the effects would last.

“Ego praecipio ut convertas in malum,” Solomon stated. You nodded your head, letting him know that you got the phrase.

“Ego praecipio ut convertas in-Asmo!” you shouted as he suddenly gave you a small tickle.

“Sorry, dear, you just looked so cute with that serious sorcerer look,” Asmo replied with a small smile as the room suddenly began to fill with smoke.

Solomon gave you a worried look as things went hazy for a moment. “What just happened?” you asked for a moment and suddenly you heard a squeal from beside you.

“There are two of me!” Asmo shouted as he pulled you into his arms. You looked to Solomon for help and he told you, “The spell that you said translates to - ‘I command that you turn into…’ and since you finished that statement with Asmo’s name, it seems the two of you switched bodies.”

Asmo - in your body - looked at Solomon confused and then looked at you in his body before finally looking down at himself.

His eyes lit up as he recognized the opportunity that had presented itself. “Okay, Solomon, thanks for coming by, see you later!” Asmo told Solomon as he gently pushed him out of the room before closing the door. 

“Asmo-,” you tried to scold, but Asmo stopped with a small pout on his lips. “Y/N, this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity! We have to take advantage of it!” Asmo said with a smile as he sat back down next to you on the bed.

And you wanted to continue your lecture, but your mind was currently being overwhelmed. You could somehow sense Asmo’s attraction to you and it was strong.

You tried to think clearly as Asmo got closer to you, gently stroking your cheek. The idea of kissing yourself was strange to think about. And while you were somewhat bothered by it, Asmo was completely turned on at the idea of kissing himself. 

And his excitement only made you grow more excited thanks to you being stuck in Asmo’s body. 

You were being overwhelmed with lust and even if he was in your body, the fact was that you had feelings for Asmo that were only making things that much harder. You wondered if Asmo constantly had to fight these feelings when he was around you.

Asmo could see that your eyes had a pink glow to them and he couldn’t help but smile. He knew exactly how you were feeling right now and it was driving him crazy.

You looked into your own eyes as Asmo moved to close the gap between your lips.

Just before they touched, the effects of the spell wore off and you were both returned to your own bodies. You melted into the kiss a bit, glad that you were kissing Asmo instead of yourself and when you opened your eyes to look at him, you saw the same pink glowing in his eyes that had been glowing in yours moments before.

Asmo gave you a small smile as he ran a finger over your bottom lip. He looked up at you with hopeful eyes before saying, “Just because we switched back, it doesn’t mean the fun has to stop, right?”

Of all the sins to experience firsthand, Gluttony was one the absolute worst ones.

That was what you had come to find out after a mishap in the kitchen.

You and Beel had been spending some time together when he got hungry so the two of you decided to go to the kitchen to get a snack. 

You saw a plate of cookies there with a note saying “From Purgatory Hall”.

You and Beel had assumed that it was a gift from Luke so you each took one, happily indulging in the small angel’s treats. 

It was only after you and Beel had switched bodies that you realized those cookies were definitely not made by Luke. 

You and Beel looked at each other wide-eyed as you took in each other’s appearances. You quickly grabbed the note that was left with the cookies and turned the paper over.

You let out a small gasp as you saw that the back of the note was signed by Solomon. Of course - who else would it be?

You pulled out your D.D.D. and immediately called Solomon. He answered the phone and before he could say a word, you asked, “Solomon, what were in those cookies and how long do the effects last?”

“Beel? You sound distressed,” Solomon replied. You mentally face-palmed as you realized you were using Beel’s phone and that you had his voice since you were in his body.

“It’s not Beel, it’s Y/N. We switched bodies after eating one of the cookies you so kindly left here for us,” you explained.

“Really? I must have mixed up the ingredients,” Solomon muttered to himself, getting lost in thought.

“Solomon - the cure?” you questioned, bringing him back to the conversation at hand. “Right, I’ll be right over,” Solomon replied, hanging up.

You looked over at your body and saw Beel rubbing his hands over your stomach. A blush coated your cheeks as you asked, “Beel?”

He was now blushing too as he realized what he had been doing. “Sorry - it’s just that I feel so full. I can’t remember ever feeling like this,” he replied with a smile.

You thought it was cute how happy he looked to finally be full. But the moment was soon ruined when you felt a sharp pain in your stomach followed by a loud growl.

Your eyes went wide and flashed the color red before you suddenly felt terrible. As if you had been starved for years and years on end even though you had just eaten. 

Beel could see the amount of pain you were in and immediately rushed through the kitchen grabbing whatever he could and giving it to you to eat.

You didn’t care what it was, you just needed food. If this was how hungry Beel felt all the time, you felt like the rampages he went on from time to time were completely justifiable.

Beel felt so guilty as he watched you eat, worried about you. He knew how hard it was to be so hungry you felt like your stomach was tearing itself open. 

He had learned how to manage his hunger from the centuries he had been alive. But he couldn’t imagine how hard it was for you to feel this way for the first time.

Beel gently rubbed your back as he told you, “Solomon will be here soon.” He was doing whatever he could to try and help.

As if on cue, Solomon suddenly knocked on the door and Beel immediately rushed him inside the house and led him to you. Solomon saw the drastic situation and immediately said the spell to undo the effects of the cookie.

You let out a huge sigh of relief as you were finally in your body, the famished feeling finally gone. Beel also looked much more relaxed now that you weren’t in any pain.

You turned toward Solomon and gave him a very serious look before telling him, “You’re banned from the kitchen.”

Solomon opened his mouth to argue, but when he saw the expression you made, he quickly closed it again. He gave you a small nod before leaving and you turned your attention to Beel.

“How about a Crazy Ghoul hamburger for a snack?” you asked him with a small smile as you began cooking.

You now knew that even if Beel didn’t say anything, he was constantly hungry and it was now your mission to try and bring that smile back to his face when he finally felt full.

Whenever you could, you would try and bring Beel his favorite snacks accompanied by a hug or a small kiss on his cheek.

And although he may not feel full in the food sense, he did feel fulfilled in a completely different way.

You let out a small chuckle as Belphie’s head fell to your shoulder for the fifth time in the span of thirty minutes.

You looked down at his sleeping face and couldn’t help but smile at how peaceful he looked.

You didn’t want to disturb his sleep and wake him up. But the two of you were currently being tutored by Solomon and Satan and you were afraid of what would happen if Satan caught him sleeping.

“Belphie,” you whispered softly as his eyes fluttered open. “Come on, we’re almost done and then we can go up to the attic for a nap,” you promised Belphie.

He was reluctant but nodded his head, once again sitting up. You turned your attention to Satan and Solomon once again and Satan said, “Okay, now that we’ve said the incantation to start the spell, all you have to do is add the ingredients, Y/N.” 

You nodded your head as you began adding the ingredients one by one. “Okay, and just a dash of powdered toadstool,” you said to yourself as you opened the small container to grab a pinch of the ingredient.

Just then, Belphie’s head once again collapsed on your shoulder, causing your hand to falter. You spilled almost the entire container of the powdered toadstool into the pot and you, Satan, and Solomon all looked at each other with a hint of panic in your eyes.

It can’t be that bad, right?

Belphie suddenly felt wide awake as he looked at everyone around the room. His eyes widened as he saw himself staring right back at him and he immediately looked down and noticed he was in your body.

You gave Belphie a pout as you stared at him. “Belphie, this is your fault,” you told him. Usually, your pouting was quite effective on him. But right now, with you being in his body, it didn’t have the same effect. In fact, all it did was make his head hurt.

Poor Belphie was still trying to comprehend what exactly happened.

Satan let out a slightly irritated sigh before telling you, “Solomon and I will work on the cure. Maybe the two of you should go somewhere where Lucifer won’t find you. The last thing I want is one of his lectures.”

You nodded your head and let out a yawn as you stood up and led Belphie up to the attic. 

Normally Belphie would be excited to go up to the attic with you and take a nap, but he wasn’t even the slightest bit tired right now.

You let out another yawn as Belphie sat down on the bed. You were suddenly extremely tired. The kind of tired where you felt like you would collapse if you stayed awake any longer.

You looked over at Belphie and instead of seeing your body, you simply saw a pillow. You gave him a small smile as you had a purple haze to your eyes and Belphie knew what you were feeling.

“Wait, Y/N-,” Belphie tried to say, but you didn’t give him the chance to get any other words out as you practically fell on top of him, wrapping your arms around the body as you felt yourself falling asleep.

Belphie was not enjoying a single moment of this. He couldn’t fall asleep even if he wanted to and yet you were passed out.

On top of that, you were laying on him and holding him close. He didn’t care if he was in your body, he wanted to do the same to you. This was his thing.

After a little while of laying there, Belphie felt as the two of you switched back, your positions reversing. 

You frowned as your eyes fluttered open and you said, “I was having such a good dream.” Belphie smiled at your words as he nuzzled even further into your chest. It was finally his turn.

You let out a small sigh, missing the feeling of cuddling into Belphie and instead essentially being his pillow.

Belphie seemed to sense your frustration and immediately pulled you on top of him, your leg resting over his body as your head rested in the crook of his neck.

Okay, so maybe it wasn’t that bad if you were the one on top of him as long as you were in your body and as long as he still got to lay on top of you when he wanted to.

Body swapping with Belphie gave you an insight into how tired Belphie was all the time and you didn’t blame him for falling asleep often.

On the other side, it gave Belphie the insight of what it was like to be the one who was being laid on. You were so much more than a pillow to him and he would make sure that from now on you got the cuddles you wanted in addition to the ones that he wanted.

[acewithapaintbrush]

A gift for @emthimofnight who's Sonadow fankid Stellar has stolen my heart. Inspired by this comic and my firm believe that Sonic is a little shit who would definitely hold something like that over Shadows head forever

🦔🦔🦔🦔🦔🦔🦔🦔🦔🦔🦔🦔

“Should I… leave?”

Stellar jerks her head around and stops rummaging through the cupboards. She doubts she'll find the shoes she is looking for anyway. They had grown a bit tight the last time she'd worn them and her Papa had given her a suspicious side eye when she'd still refused to get rid of them. 

He hates clutter. Says her Dad is messy enough for all three of them. 

And anyway! The shoes are pretty much immediately forgotten the moment her friend's words reach Stellar’s ears. 

“Why?” she asks. “I thought we'd spent the day together?”

Camellia only spares her a quick glance before she looks away again. She is wringing her hands the way she does when she is nervous about something. Stellar wonders what could have caused that and follows her gaze. She tilts her head with a frown. All she can see are her parents being… well. Her parents. 

“I mean,” Cam gestures helplessly at the other couple, keeping her voice low. “This is obviously a bad time.”

Stellar joins her side and keeps looking between her friend and her parents. She has no clue what has gotten into Cam. 

Across the room her Dad crosses his arms behind his head and taps one foot up and down. His grin is playful, much like Stellar’s own when she is in the mood to tease but his voice has an edge to it. 

“You know I'm right, Shads! Just admit it!”

Her Papa scoffs and crosses his arms in front of his chest, a perfect imperfect mirror of his partner. Sometimes Stellar marvels at the fact that two hedgehogs can be so similar and so different at the same time. 

“You? Being right? Haven't seen any pigs fly lately.”

“Oh. That comeback was almost witty. Have you been practicing?”

Ah. They are arguing. Again. Or maybe still? She vaguely remembers a friendly conversation over breakfast about an old mission or something slowly turning into a heated debate about who took down more Badniks. Are they still on about that? 

She sighs. Seems like it's going to be one of those days, huh? Stellar ignores her parents and smirks at her flustered friend. She is so uptight sometimes. Kinda cute. 

“They are just squabbling. Don't tell me your parents never do that.”

Cam blinks, surprised, before she sniffs a little, nose in the air and all. “My parents never argue. Certainly not in front of guests.”

“Yeah, sure. The hedgehog with the giant hammer and temper issues and the literal cat with fire powers never argue.” Before Camellia can swipe at her arm Stellar continues “And anyway, you are not a guest, you are practically family.”

Her friend's face is suddenly as red as a tomato and she turns away to delicately cough into her hand. Stellar raises an eyebrow. Cam is acting super weird today. 

Her parents have kept arguing meanwhile. It's pretty much just white noise to their daughter after all these years. Stellar tunes back in just in time to hear Papa insult Dad’s memory which has obviously suffered from too many hits during fights. 

And Stellar knows that glint that enters her Dad's eyes, the way his smirk grows deceptively soft. She can do nothing but groan and slap a hand against her forehead as the blue hedgehog sighs and saunters over to the mantelpiece. She has seen this song and dance one too many times to think she can stop what's coming next. 

He picks up one of her baby pictures and presses it against his chest. “Maybe you are right. Maybe my memory isn't as good as it used to be.”

Stellar is as always reluctantly impressed with the way her Dad is able to put so much emotion into utter bullshit. He sounds like he is on the verge of crying and Stella can hear Cam gasp softly in dismay.

Maybe they should have left after all. 

“The memories begin to fade,” he laments and are those tears in the corners of his eyes? Ugh. “But you know what memory will never fade? My most precious one?”

Papa grits his teeth. She thinks it might take all his strength to not jump across the room and do something he might (a very slight might) regret. 

“How Stellar called me Dada first.”

It's a favorite story of his and he pulls it out every time Papa annoys him or he feels like he is losing an argument. 

And her Papa is smart and strong and level headed and cool. But he is also super bad at hiding how much that ‘betrayal’ still eats at him. 

“You are never letting this go, are you? You are pathetic!”

“Pot meet kettle. And why should I? One of her precious first milestones and it was all for moi!”

“I taught her how to walk.”

“And I taught her how to ride a bicycle, which is even more difficult.”

“I taught her how to swim, something you actually need for survival.”

“Oh yeah, if you call throwing her into the deep end and telling her ‘to figure it out’ teaching.”

“That's not how it happened!” Papa turns to Stellar proving once and for all that both are aware of their audience and don't care. They probably enjoy embarrassing her in front of her friend, the sadists. “That didn't happen!” 

She rolls her eyes. “I know, Papa.”

“Oh right!” Dad cuts in, outraged. “That was me! Your beloved husband!” 

“We are not married.”

“For good reason!”

Stellar does her best to ignore the two of them. Camellia still looks bewildered but there is a reluctant smile blossoming on her face, as if she can't help but be amused despite the awkwardness. 

“Now I know where you get it from.”

Stellar gasps and clutches her chest. “How dare you!” She pauses and her pretend outrage turns a bit more genuine. “Wait! What do you mean? Get what?”

Cam has the audacity to snicker at her and it is not a beautiful sound to Stellar’s ears, nope, not at all! “Oh. You know.”

She doesn't. She totally doesn't. 

She is about to demand some answers when the expression on Cam’s face stops her cold. She turns back to her parents and… oh no. 

Why is she even surprised anymore?

Papa has crossed the distance and has the back of Dad's neck in a tight grip. He is growling and flashing his teeth. 

“I think it's time for you to shut your mouth.”

Dad just leers and leans closer, pressing his chest against the other hedgehog, tangling his hand in black and red quills. 

“Why don't you make me?”

Stellar grabs Camellia’s hand and pulls her out of the room as fast as she can. 

“Oh-Kay. That's our cue to go. Go go go! Don't look back!”

“Wait what? Why? Shouldn't we stop them? What if they hurt-?”

“Nope! You do not want to get between them right now.” She shudders and quickens her steps. “Trust me!”

There is the sound of a muffled crash behind her, like two bodies falling to the floor, her Papa saying something triumphant, her Dad laughing. 

Stellar loves her parents. But God! They can be so embarrassing!

**********

They are the worst, I love them! This was supposed to be really short and grew into this... Hope you like it❤️

[toomiieimagiines]

hihihihihi

rui kamishiro having crush on his friend (reader) n then confessing to them by accident like they r handing out one day and he quietly says ‘i love you so much’ without realising

please and tyy <333 have a good day darl!!

THIS IS THE CUTEST REQUEST EVERRR!!! UGHHH MY HEART HURTS! i saw your other submission, i’m just replying to this one because it’s the actual request!! ur the best, thank you all for so many asks! this is the longest thing i’ve written on here! this sparked me with so much inspiration!! sorry if it gets a little emo, i’ve not been feeling all that well myself recently mentally! ^_^” sorry for projecting on you rui!

CW: it gets really angsty, but it’s a hurt comfort, i promise! food as a metaphor for love at the beginning. reverse comfort. rui is autistic coded sorry i just can’t help myself

Rui Kamishiro is an idiot.

Rui had a problem.

A problem that swelled up in his stomach, travelled to his chest, and landed in a horrible place- his heart. He didn’t even notice it at first too, the warmth in the back of his throat, the burning in his lungs. Countless days sitting at his desk, mindless tinkering with something, wondering why he suddenly felt so apprehensive around you. A shocking pain filled his gut,

Rui Kamishiro was in love with one of his best friends.

He couldn’t stop it. He tried to snap himself out of it- he really did! He knows he can’t feel that way, knows it isn’t right. He feels so perverted every time he’s next to you because all he can think of is how your lips would feel on his, how sweet your gaze is on him, how you’d warm his cold hands-

God, he’s the worst. Thoughts would slurry through his head every time you’re near. You’re his friend! He should be thankful you want to speak to him, it’s selfish to feel this way about somebody, especially somebody like you.

He truly believes that close relationships like those, are not for the likes of him.

He braces himself for the day you realize that he would be no good as a lover - he’s sure you know - but he comes to a gut wrenching epiphany that he doesn’t seem to mind all the much how you’re in his life. He loves you, but you like him, and he can deal with that. He can take friendship, what he can’t take is disgust, that’d be agony to him, so he’ll make sure you never feel that way towards him.

He locks his feelings deep inside where nobody can ever find them. Not you, not Nene, not anybody.

And he’s okay. Truly, genuinely, okay with it. He should take what he can get. He should be grateful you talk to him.

He sighs, lost in his thoughts, you shoot him a look. He shouldn’t have done that, he laments, he’s probably gone and worried you.

Class ends quickly, he dodges you ‘till lunch time.

You find him, you always were good at quickly sniffing him out. What a predicable friend you have, you muse. The two of you sit down, a pregnant silence overtaking the both of you.

“Rui? You’ve been-“ you search for the word, “spacey. You feel alright? No one was bothering you or anything, right?” You jab whatever was in your lunchbox today, as if killing the meat for a second time. Your tongue lulled out in concentration, he lets out an amused laugh.

“Aren’t I always spacey?” His head cocks to the side, a lopsided smile appearing. How come all of his worries about you vanish when you two are like this? Isn’t this supposed to make him feel worse?

“Spacier than usual.” You decide, pointing your utensil at him threateningly. “I know you better than you think, don’t play with me.”

Not well enough, he wants to beg. He wants to know you in every way possible, wants you to know him-

“You’re doing it again!” You groan, shoving a bite into your mouth. Your face lights up at the taste, it’s endearing to him - well everything about you is endearing to him. “Ooo! Try this!” You beam, grabbing some between your chopsticks.

He thinks you’re going to place it on this lunchbox, but is shocked when you just stare at him, holding the food an inch or two away from his mouth. He opens his mouth, and you let him take it between his lips.

A thousand thoughts flurry in his head again, and he tries to grasp at them desperately to contain himself. A few rose colored pieces of paper appeared in his hand.

The first, was that that was way too domestic. That’s what you’d do with a lover. That’s what you’d do on a picnic in a meadow, a radio playing classical- God, his emotions are really getting to the better of him. When did he start thinking about things like that?

The second paper he discovered, was the realization that your lips had touched those very chopsticks too. Did you not realize that you had just touched your lips to his - in a way? Did you not care? Maybe it was meant to be familiar, he’d drink off Nene all the time.

The last paper was a simple thought, a thought he would actually be willing to tell you about.

That was really good.

He realized you had been watching him intensely, and he prays that you didn’t see his face contort three times in the 8 seconds he had been chewing. You looked at him as if you were expecting a response, and the paper butterflies stop shooting all over the place.

“Good, right?” You say, egging him along like a parent who had finally gotten their child to resign and eat vegetables. He’s always been particular, even now his lunch box only really had snacks in it. You’re glad when you see him eating.

He decides to give you a hum of approval, and a nod of his head. He doesn’t trust himself to talk to you. You feel giddy that he enjoyed it, and it shows on your face. He feels giddy too.

“You should eat more. I can start making you lunch that you’ll actually like if that’s what it takes. You’re looking pale.” You tease, shoving him gently. “Is that why you’re so spacey today? Because you’re hangry?”

You’re a good friend, he thinks. You’re such a good friend, and that’s why I love you.

“I’m not hangry!” He pushes you back, laughing heartily. “And you don’t need to bother making me lunches. I’m capable, I just don’t want to.”

“Whatever than, weirdo. Starve.” You shrug, “if you pass out during a show and I have to nurse you back to health, I’ll say I told you so!”

You two finish eating quickly, not really talking that much, and he’s resigned to looking down guiltily during class again. School flashes by quickly. He has rehearsal today, he wants to groan. Maybe it’ll take his mind off things. He has a new idea to pitch to Tsukasa anyway.

Rui soon discovers that rehearsal isn’t going to be all that good today. He steps on Nenes foot twice, he runs into Emu a handful of times, and now he’s in a bad mood because on top of all of his thoughts, Tsukasa turned down his idea for a flame shooting Robo-Nene.

“Rui!!” Nene whispers, breaking him out of his thoughts when she jabs him in the side. “Cmon, you gotta pay attention or ‘Kasa’ll get moody.”

She cares about him, in her own sisterly way. It’s funny. He’s sure she can even guess what he’s thinking about.

“Sorry, Nene..” He says softly, rubbing his face in frustration. Why does he have to be such a freak? He wishes he were more like Tsukasa. Tsukasa probably doesn’t have paper butterflies in his head.

What a dumb thought that was, paper butterflies. He wishes he didn’t have stupid thoughts like that. Normal people don’t think of feelings that way, he knew you definitely didn’t think that way, what a weird person he was.

Rehearsal passes after time, he leaves quickly, too quick for him to even offer walking back with Nene. She’s going to Emu’s probably, he thinks so at least. He checks his phone, a notification from none other than ‘Weirdo’ - your doing, not his - Popping into view. You had insisted he’d change your contact when you had seen it was simply your name. It always got a chuckle out of him, despite the irony of you calling yourself the weird one.

Weirdo: wanna come over after your dance dance time?? i need help with math, mr smarty!

Me: Sure, I guess I can spare some brain power. Let me whip up a little Rui Math magic

Did that sound weird? Whatever. He sends it, changing his route to end up on your street instead. The walk is filled with the usual misery of a smitten teenage boy, apprehensive feelings washing over him. He prepares what he should talk about, repeating things that he’s sure wouldn’t be weird to say. He wishes he could make feelings disappear, he wishes he could disappear really. What a different world it would be if he weren’t in it, what a better life you’d have if he weren’t in it. He shakes his head, trying to block that away. He’s so dramatic, it makes his skin crawl in disgust.

He knocks on your door, but quickly gets another text.

Weirdo: just come in.. i left it unlocked!

You should really be more careful, he frets, opening the door and pulling off his shoes. He thinks you’re too trusting of people, even of people like him. If you knew his disgusting thoughts of love towards you, you’d certainly be frightened. Like when a miserable diseased stray wants you to pet it. Actually, you’re too kind to be deflected from petting a flea-ridden animal. That’s just the kind of person you are, maybe that’s why you two are so close.

He pushes the door of your room open, being met with the dejected stare you’re giving your math homework.

“Rui,” you look up at him, “I think I may be stupid.”

“You’re not stupid.” He chides, sitting down on the bed next to you.

“Whatever, I give up!” You toss it onto your desk.

“I just got here, I haven’t even tried to help you yet!” He says amused, trying to go grab it. you stop him, pulling him back next to you. His breath gets caught in his throat. You’re close to him, way too close to him.

“Honestly, I used that as an excuse for you to hang out with me. I was desperate, okay?!”

Those words shock him. You thought you’d have to trick him into hanging out with you? Did you not know how devoted he was to seeing you? Just the thought of you wanting to see him mad him giddy. If only you knew how quick he’d go if you’d asked him to be there.

He tries not to think about how close you two are. It’s not weird, Rui, they’re your friend. Friends lay together, don’t they? He’s played video games together with Nene in her bed, this is normal. He’s looking too much into this. What a weirdo he was for thinking like this, he’s a total slime ball.

“Y’know, Rui.” Your voice breaks him out of his thoughts, your touch lingering as you nudge him. “If you want to talk to me about something, you can.”

He feels like he’s been shoved under water, the current throwing his body around. Everything is too stressful, and now even your presence can’t make the weird thoughts go away. He suddenly becomes hyper aware of how close you are to him. He’s guiltily dreamed about being this close to you, feeling your warmth, touching him gently like you always did.

Those dreams weren’t for the likes of him, he can’t hope for things like that, he tries to remind himself every chance he gets.

So why does this feel so real? Why can he smell your perfume, and see your worried face, and feel you touching him so tenderly. You can’t keep getting his hopes up like this. He wishes he could be a good friend for you.

He wishes he didn’t love you in such a depraved, disgusting way. He wishes he wasn’t such an odd person. He wishes he didn’t think the way he did. He wants to be normal.

“Rui?” You say worried, grabbing his cheek. Stop it, he wants to beg. He can’t feel you in this way and act like it’s normal. He can’t be this close to you and be casual about it.

His face contorts into something awful, a helpless expression coming forth. His mouth opens to beg you to understand that he is okay. He truly is okay.

“I love you, so much.” The words are like a ghost, shooting out of him. His breath gets caught in his throat, and so does yours.

What?? How could he do that?? All he can feel is despair curling up inside of him. His worst fear is going to come true, you’re disgusted. This is the most humiliating thing he’d ever felt in his entire life. He’s failed the one rule he set between the two of you, you’re going to leave his life forever. You’re gone now. This is worst than any torment he’s ever faced in school.

He needs to try and defend himself.

“I-“ His words are hasty, and he reaches to tear your hands off of his face to grab them earnestly. “I- I don’t know why I said that-“

He finds himself unable to continue talking, what can’t he talk?

Your mouth is on his.

His face relaxes, his brows unfurrowing as he hums miserably into it. He grabs you desperately, relishing in how wonderful your lips feel. He really shouldn’t be doing this. He really shouldn’t-

He deepens the kiss, trying to bask in you for just a second longer. His thoughts are all gone now. It’s just you, you, you.

It’s hasty, and needy, and salty. Your noses bump together carelessly, your teeth scrape each other. It’s both your first time kissing anybody, after all.

You two part shortly after. He’s panting, and so are you.

His breath gets caught once again once he sees the depraved line of spit connecting you two. You wipe his cheek, when did he start crying? How embarrassing.

“Rui Kamishiro, you’re strange.” You smile shakily, voice sickly-sweet with fondness. “is that what’s been on your mind this whole time?

He nods, apprehensive to admit anything.

“I love you too, if that’s what you’re so concerned about.”

You say it like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Like he doesn’t love you like a stay dog loves the person who gives him scraps. He feels like everything is lifted off of him, like his head is finally above water.

He can’t help but let out a pathetic gasp. It makes his skin crawl. “I-“

“It’s fine. You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to.” You bring him towards yourself, holding him so gently he thinks he’ll faint.

He decides that he’s willing to be guilty if it means he gets to be like this with you.

What a selfish, hormonal, smitten, weird, depraved boy he is.

Strawberry chapstick, huh?

[another-lost-mc]

Blasphemy

When you pray to him, it's not forgiveness you're asking for.

MICHAEL x gn!Reader 1.8k words | NSFW | Obsession | Sexual Themes Content Warnings: Obsessive thoughts, invasion of privacy, suggestive themes and some sexual content. A/N: Read the sequel here.

It starts when Simeon gives you the lost Ring of Light.

You think it’s a dream at first, the blinding golden-white light that overwhelms your senses. Suddenly a man’s voice, clear as if he was at your side, speaks to you and offers his blessing and good luck. The demon brothers panic later about seeing light from the Celestial Realm spill from your room, and you freeze when you realize the person you spoke to must’ve been Michael himself.

You tell yourself it’s simple curiosity that motivates you to learn more about him. The very mention of Michael’s name brings up so many varied, intense reactions depending on who you talk to. You speak to the angels first. Luke admires him wholeheartedly, but Simeon’s forced smile and carefully guarded answers to the questions you ask make you feel guilty.

It’s more complicated talking to the demons about him. Sometimes, they say his name with cloudy expressions and pursed lips like they just bit into something sour. Other times, they look far-away and try not to smile when they reminisce about events that happened long ago.

Mammon complains to you about Michael’s no-nonsense approach to work and discipline, and Asmodeus tells you some abstract memory about Michael while he paints your nails. He sounds nostalgic when he mentions all the ways Lucifer and Michael are similar, and the ways they’re also completely different.

Lucifer doesn’t talk about Michael very much, but he’ll usually answer your questions so long as they’re vague and not too prying. When he speaks about Michael, he wears the frown of someone that remembers hurting and being hurt by someone he loved, but it was so long ago the pain is a dull throb he can ignore.

No matter what the angels or demons tell you, you can't shake your interest in the archangel that is admired and feared in equal measure. Curiosity turns to fascination, and you feel some ravenous need to learn more. The things you’ve learned about him so far - the awe-inspiring feats, the high expectations he puts on those serving him, the cruel punishments for those who fail him - scare you and captivate you.

You spend more time with Luke who shares his memories of Michael so easily. It’s no wonder Luke enjoys baking so much - he tells you about Michael’s sweet tooth, the things Michael particularly likes to eat and drink the most, and Luke even offers to make some Celestial Realm desserts for you to try. When you eat them, you pretend it brings you closer to him, like you share something in common.

One day when you visit Luke at Purgatory Hall, he casually mentions getting a message from Michael and you nearly choke on your tea. He keeps talking about whatever task he’s been assigned, but your mind is racing. How did you not think of this sooner?

“I forgot my D.D.D. at the House of Lamentation, can I borrow yours?” The lie rolls off your tongue easily and Luke eagerly hands you his device without a second thought. When he runs off to the kitchen to check on lunch, you immediately pull up his chat history with Michael. You don’t have time to read everything properly, so you take as many screenshots of their conversations as you can, and you send them to yourself. When you’re finished, you close the chat app and head to the kitchen to help Luke.

Later that evening, you read and re-read the message history between Luke and Michael. You smile when you read about Luke’s versions of events in the Devildom, often skewed to make the demons look worse than they (usually) are. You’re touched by the way Michael seems to genuinely care for the young angel too. He responds to Luke’s messages with enthusiastic encouragement or gentle reminders to show his demon hosts grace and patience. 

Your eyes widen comically when you come across your name during one of their older conversations, and you feel your cheeks grow warm when you realize they were talking about you.

Luke: They’re so nice! They told me about some human world desserts that sound amazing. I’m going to ask them to teach me one day, if I can get the ingredients.

Michael: They sound like a wonderful friend to you.

Luke: I wish you could meet them!

Michael: Perhaps one day I will.

Those seemingly innocent words shouldn’t have this sort of impact on you. The logical part of your mind knows Michael is probably humoring Luke, grateful that he’s found a friend in the Devildom and happy to see that you’re a positive influence on him. The desperate part of your mind, the one that fixates on those words, reads them almost like a promise. One day you'll be able to see him in person, or perhaps even touch him if you’re brave enough. 

Their conversation lingers in your mind for the next several days, and you can't stop fantasizing about what meeting Michael might be like. The first meetings that you dream about skirt the line of innocent curiosity and unashamed blasphemy. One morning you wake up with your hand between your legs and the name of a faceless angel on your lips when you come. The memory of his voice rings in your ears and you still want more. You’re not sure what it says about you that you don’t feel ashamed at all.

You grow bored of re-reading the same juvenile conversations between Luke and Michael, and you turn your sights to accessing Simeon’s D.D.D. next. Simeon is older than Luke and you know his relationship with Michael is more complicated. You’re not sure if it’ll be as easy to get access to his phone, but fate is on your side.

The next time you visit Purgatory Hall, Simeon comes to see you and Luke in the kitchen. He looks a bit embarrassed and he’s scratching the back of his head while he holds his phone out to you.

“If you’re not busy, do you mind helping me with this?” he asks you a bit sheepishly.

You have to remind yourself not to be too eager when he hands over his device. “Of course! It’s not a problem at all. If you want to finish helping Luke, I can see what the problem is.”

You leave the two angels in the kitchen and retreat to the living room. The problem is obvious - the screen lighting is so dim it’s hard to read, and somehow Simeon changed the default language to some sort of demonic script neither of you understand. They’re both easy things to fix, and that leaves you with a few spare minutes to check his message history.

As you suspected, his conversations with Michael are more mature. They’re less focused on the daily sights that Luke is amazed by, focusing instead on Devildom life and politics. Michael is curious about Diavolo and his fallen brothers most of all. He asks pointed questions and makes subtle comments that seem purposeful if you read between the lines.

One of the more recent conversations he and Simeon had seems serious. You had no idea that Simeon stole the ring he gave you. It’s always difficult to read tone through words alone, but even you can decipher the undercurrent of disappointment and anger in Michael’s messages.

You understand now, with more clarity than ever, that Michael is intelligent, cunning, and should not be crossed. This realization should frighten you and put a quick end to your silly little crush. However, the temptation of forbidden fruit is too much for you to resist, and this knowledge fuels your fascination instead.

When you’re alone in bed at night, you give up all pretenses and surrender to lustful urges. Your thoughts of the mysterious archangel are steeped in lust. You remember the rumbling sound of his voice in your mind, and you can still feel the warmth of the Celestial Realm’s light. If he were to put his hands on you, would he feel that warm too?

It’s so easy to give into the fantasy that it’s his hands moving between your thighs while you touch yourself. You imagine returning to the Celestial Realm and finally meeting him in-person. You picture him towering over you, the embodiment of grace and power and absolute authority. You wonder what you might have to say or do to tempt him.

Thoughts of him - dark, depraved, delightfully sinful thoughts - are enough to push you over the edge while you stroke yourself beneath your sheets. You come once, then again not long after, riding the high of sin and corruption. You try to stop the whimpers and moans that threaten to spill from your lips. Breathy whispers that sound suspiciously like his name break the silence of your room, hushed secrets for your ears alone.

You’re still panting lightly, mind foggy from the pleasurable daze of your last orgasm, when your D.D.D. vibrates on the nightstand next to your bed. It’s an automatic response when you reach for it - with your clean hand, the one that isn’t saturated by the scent of your arousal - and mumble a quiet greeting when you answer. It wouldn’t be the first time one of the demon brothers got himself locked out of the house after partying all night.

“Did you think I would ignore your filthy prayers forever?” the smooth voice on the other line asks you.

Michael. You recognize who it is instantly and sit up in bed.

“Wait, how did you—?” you ask nervously, because how the hell did he get your number?

“You’re not the only one Luke trusts with his belongings,” Michael says knowingly, with a hint of amusement.

Oh no. Has he been watching you this whole time, waiting for your most vulnerable moment to surprise you like this? What does he know? What has he seen, or heard?

You’re completely unprepared for this conversation because he's rendered you speechless. Your mouth opens and closes uselessly while you try to think of something to say. What can you say? You’re excited and embarrassed, and your body warms up suddenly, like it’s on fire. 

He chuckles quietly, like he predicted this reaction from you. Your silence speaks volumes, and you realize you don’t need to say a word for him to understand you perfectly.

“Humans are such fascinating creatures,” Michael’s voice drawls, low and intimate in your ear.

You whimper and try to clamp a hand over your mouth to muffle the noise, but it's too late. He chuckles again and he sounds far too pleased with himself. "You were intriguing before, but not many are able to surprise me the way that you have. Perhaps you deserve a reward for your efforts.”

You can’t help but shudder from the lust simmering deep within your belly. Is he trying to sound seductive on purpose? You don’t know and it’s impossible to tell.

It seems like he can read your thoughts because he hums approvingly. “Yes, I think a proper meeting is in order, don’t you agree?”

He doesn’t wait for your answer, and before you can attempt to speak again, the line goes dead.

[bonaesperanza]

Okay, so you know how Barrayar is full of stories of evil mutants kidnapping innocent Vor maidens, just like we IRL have a bunch of story templates exploiting our societal fears of some exoticized evil Other stealing our women?

And you know how modern romance/erotica takes those stories and turns them into erotic fantasies? Like, women have been going mad over The Phantom of the Opera for centuries, we've had stories about innocent maidens being forced into arranged marriages with big dick sheikhs and Middle Eastern princes for decades, and in the past decade or so both monster romance and villain romance have become completely mainstream staples of the genre?

And you know how Miles allegedly killing Tien so he could court Ekaterin was Vorbarr Sultana's Scandal of the Year for a short while, before the whole affair was capped by Ekaterin's very memorable and very public proposal?

Now, imagine some repressed Vor housewives hearing about it and thinking, in a similar vein to what Mark thought, "NGL, that's kinda hot. I always did have those fantasies where I was ravished by the villain, and I really do sometimes wish my boring sexist husband were dead." Because now that they've caught up on galactic genetics the actual fear of mutant children is kinda low among the bored upper class housewives who can afford gene cleaning, so it's the perfectly zeitgeisty moment to exoticize and objectify the mutants instead.

So one of said bored housewives decides to anonymously write a pulpy gothic-esque dark romance/erotica novel about it. Except obviously the scrawny short guy doesn't make for an appealing romantic hero, so she makes him a Taura-esque tall, massively ripped fellow who growls all his lines a là ACOTAR's Rhysand and conveniently makes all his mutations sexy in the vein of, like, A/B/O novels or Ice Planet Barbarians.

Imagine "Ravished by the Billionaire Secret Agent Mutant Count" slowly becoming popular among the ladies and the main cast learning about it, Miles lamenting about it having come out now when he's happily married and not when he was fifteen and desperate to get laid, Ivan suddenly gaining a lot more traction with the girls because they've caught onto the real life inspiration for the novel and are wondering if the Big Dick Mutation comes from Ivan's side of the family, Cordelia shamelessly reading it at dinner (she's the only person who's read it without wrapping the cover) and annoyedly pointing out the biological inaccuracies as Aral begs her to stop, Mark seeing the opportunity for a cash grab and buying the holodrama rights...

[three-realms-archive]

Let's Form an Idol Group

(Check the end for a fun commenting idea which might turn into more of these, if there's interest :D)

“So. Maybe a band wasn’t the best idea.” Asmo began, pushing the last of several clothing racks he had selected from his walk-in closet into the House of Lamentation’s ballroom. The inhabitants of the House of Lamentation were sat on various chairs around him; wearing expressions ranging from buzzing with excitement, to complete disinterest. “But Levi has introduced me to the wonders of idol groups; and my beautiful, fabulous self has decided that this is our family’s calling! Let's talk outfits - ”

“Concept! Concept first.” Levi said, interrupting his younger brother’s monologue.

“Right, concept!” Asmo corrected himself, taking a seat on one of the many chaise-lounges in the House of Lamentation. He sat against the plush pillows dramatically, in a way which made Satan roll his eyes - but you stifled a giggle when the fourth and fifth-born both leaned back and crossed their legs in almost the exact same way.

“I’ve seen a bunch of idol concepts before.” You spoke matter-of-factly, as you put your phone back in your pocket. The start of the conversation had inspired you to quickly text a song recommendation to someone. You continued. “It might be best to decide if you want to go cutesy - or badass - or maybe some inspired kind of theme.” Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Leviathan nodding enthusiastically in agreement with you. Finally; something he could do with his family that could hold his attention.

Satan raised an eyebrow. “Inspired?”

You nodded. “Yeah, yeah! There’s been dark vampire-y vibes, high school settings, beachwear. It’ll be, like, the main part of our hit single! Though sometimes it permeates into merch, and stuff.”

“A-Ah! Merch! Yes - we need merch!” Levi squeaked, suddenly doodling in the binder that you swear wasn’t in his hands a few seconds ago. In your peripheral vision, you could make out his scribbled lines to be a line-up of seven, anatomically-accurate body drawings (from the hair, it looked to be his brothers); as well as some hastily scrawled merch ideas. Light sticks, tote bags, photocards… and ‘Beel-inspired instant ramen’? You decided not to ask.

Asmo was also looking at the third-born with stars in his eyes. “Yes, big bro! MC! That’s the spirit! I think our theme should be Cutie and Elegant Asmodeus, so that’s all settled. Now - “

“How come you get to decide, huh?” Mammon interjected, leaning against the doorframe. He had pretended to not care when Asmo had first called a family meeting and announced his plan to turn his family into an idol group. But, from the way he was intently listening, he was 100% into the idea. “We should have a cool concept. Something badass and awesome.”

“That’s no different than the first band we tried to form over phone chat, and look where that went.” Satan interjected calmly. “How about a story-inspired concept? Fairytales, or film noir?”

“Ooh!” You piped up happily, much to Satan’s delight and Mammon’s visible dismay. “This girl group once did a love song inspired by a bunch of famous movie scenes. I totally see us as idols in a video like that.”

Lucifer shook his head. He, like Mammon, had spent most of the conversation appearing disinterested by sitting at a table to do work. But even the Avatar of Pride was drawn in by the conversation, and you smiled fondly as he looked around at his brothers bonding with a softer-than-usual gaze. Even if he did visibly cringe at the word ‘idols’ and ‘us’ in the same sentence.

“If I may. Perhaps you all should consider coming up with something unique. It would be a selling point to do something new and innovative, no?”

Asmo and Levi nodded enthusiastically. Belphegor (who was sleeping on your shoulder until Lucifer had started to speak) and Satan grimaced. You and Mammon looked at each other, thoughtfully.

Suddenly, Beel walked in. Only you and Belphie had noticed that he had walked out of the room earlier with a rumbling stomach as soon as Asmo had started talking.

Now, the Avatar of Gluttony had returned, holding a comically-large tub of sorbet, shovelling a hefty scoop into his mouth using what looked like a ladle. Between bites, he seemed to be mumbling something.

“… boom, boom, boom - bah, bah, bah - cookin’ like a chef, I’m a five-star Mich - oh. Hey, MC.” Beel sang absentmindedly, stopping when everyone in the room turned to look at him. Lucifer nodded to him in acknowledgement. Levi and Asmo had heard what he was singing and grinned excitedly. Belphegor, who saw what you had texted to his twin earlier, snickered. You smiled. “Did you like the song I sent you, Beel?”

Beelzebub looked straight at you, an slightly-embarrassed blush dusting his cheeks at the thought of his family hearing him singing. Nevertheless, he shot you a boyish grin. “Yeah. I can only really remember that part, though, for some reason.”

(it doesn't seem like asmo to just stop trying to form his boy band, so i headcannon that he does a fortnightly attempt to make his dreams come to life. we have overture now tho, so i'm gonna say that was all asmo - and maybe levi's - doing. i thought it would be nice for the brothers to partake in some of levi's interests, too :D) (pls comment below if you got any of the kpop references! as a hint for one of them, i don't think i can call myself a stay but i love stray kids' music and really respect the members for being so talented - but that lyric was the first one in my head when i thought about beel ahaha)

(edit: whoops fixed the cookin’ like a chef lyric ahaha)

Comment below one of the following and I might turn some into writing, or a bunch of small snippets, if I get enough:

A name for the brothers' K-Pop group!

A concept for the brothers' debut!

A silly or unique piece of merch their group would have!

[mendeshoney]

apple of my eye, take a bite

A/N: surprise surprise! this is a part two to "a taste of the devine," with a special little halloween twist! to my lovelies, @pyotrkochetkov and @smileysvech happy halloween babes! the title is inspired by lyrics from the song “eve” by precious pepala

Summary: You and Andrei go to the team Halloween party at a club, and it takes Andrei down memory lane.

Pairing: andrei svechnikov x f!reader

Word Count: 5,120

Warnings: five year age gap, older woman x younger man, fluff, previously established dynamics (including msub x fdom dynamics, switch, mdom x fsub dynamics), smut, semi-public sex (in a club), hints of biting/hickies, penetration, finish inside, unprotected sex

Russian terms used (bearing in mind the author does not speak Russian and definitely Google’d these) can be referenced here.

~

“I feel like this won’t make much sense,” Andrei quietly mumbles to himself, adjusting the ‘hat’ of his costume, his eyes casting to the side once he sees movement from inside the closet.

The sliding frosted glass door is closed, so he can only see your shadow as you move around, and he can feel himself start to get antsy.

You’d kept your part of the couples costume a shrouded secret from him, claiming you wanted to surprise him. 

As far as surprises go, he typically liked yours a lot, but given his current predicament, he found himself a little more anxious than normal.

He glances at himself in the vanity mirror in your shared bedroom, running a cursory hand over the fuzzy material of his Halloween costume, and frowning a little at his reflection.

“Kroshka, I don’t-” He starts, cutting himself off and turning back toward the closet when he hears the sliding door open. 

You finally emerge, body in an emerald green mini dress that you’d sewed fake vines onto so that they curled and twisted around your figure, enhancing your silhouette, vines trailing down your shoulder and around your arms until they rested delicately on your wrists. Those beautiful legs of yours donned a pair of thigh high velvet stiletto boots, the color matching your dress perfectly. 

You looked a lot more like that character that Evgeny used to tease him for having a crush on when they were kids, Poison Ivy, than you did the biblical Eve.

Sukin syn.

Andrei’s hard in seconds, heart pounding furiously as his stomach flutters.

Babochki, he thinks. Butterflies.

He laughs suddenly, feeling nervous out of the blue. 

“What do you think?” You ask, turning your body a little so he can get a better view.

“I think there’s butterflies in my stomach,” he says honestly, the words coming out faster than he can process, but when you flush deeply, he feels a twinge of satisfaction. 

“You still have a way with words, don’t you?” You tease, trying to look anywhere else but him, and he knows that strategy.

Sometimes, when you’re not sure how to receive his compliments, you try to brush them off, but tonight’s not a night Andrei can let that fly.

He can feel his hands twitching at his sides, and his feet are moving towards you before he even realizes, that familiar gravitational pull too strong to resist.

“Ty vyglyadish' krasivo, lyubov' moya.” He murmurs. You look beautiful, my love.

You smile at his words, his hands coming to rest on your waist and pull you closer. “Spasibo, malysh.” You finally seem to take in his costume, and you giggle lightly. “You look so cute!”

He frowns, brows pinched together. “I’m glad you think so.”

You smile, giggling a little more. “Of course I think so.”

“Remind me again why I couldn’t just be ‘Adam’ for Halloween?” He asks, fingers playing with a fake vine on your shoulder.

“Because no one cares about Adam,” you remind him gently. “The story’s about Eve and the Apple. Adam’s just there.”

Andrei pouts a little, turning back toward the mirror and staring at the apple suit that covers his upper half, the red hat on his head with the apple’s stem and a little leaf, and the dark brown pants on his legs. “I guess so,” he laments, then turns his gaze back to you.

You know him so well at this point that when the corner of your mouth quirks up in a small smile, he isn’t even surprised, and just smiles right back at you. “Don’t worry, shchenok, everyone still thinks you’re sexy.”

“I don’t care about everyone,” he says without a second’s hesitation. “Just you.”

A small flush works its way up your neck and cheeks. “I still think you’re sexy, too.”

Andrei’s heart pounds then, that familiar disbelief that he was able to call someone like you the love of his life surfacing in his chest. He bends his head, pride surging through his veins when you accept his kiss. 

“We should probably go soon,” you murmur against his mouth.

Andrei hums, shrugging. “Or we could stay home. Have our own little Halloween party.”

“Not an option, I’m afraid.” You say, and pull yourself out of his arms to head back into the closet. He watches, completely entranced, as you pull on a pair of thigh high velvet stiletto boots, the color matching your dress perfectly, and he can feel himself start to tent in his pants. 

“Kroshka,” he tries again, the word nearly getting caught in his throat, “Are you sure we can’t just-”

You cut him off by standing, grabbing your small clutch and his car keys, tossing a curt “Let’s go, moye yabloko” over your shoulder as you head to the garage.

Andrei glances at himself in the mirror one last time, offering his reflection a long-suffering sigh, before grabbing his wallet and trailing after you.

~

His teammates don’t laugh as much as he expected, which he supposes is because out of all the costumes tonight, he looks the least ridiculous.

Jesperi, Teuvo, and Sebastian are dressed as Alvin and the Chipmunks - Jesperi was elected to be Theo against his will, Teuvo gladly accepted the role of Simon because it meant he was the smartest, which left Sebastian as Alvin, who claimed it was only fair since his last name began with an ‘A’ - Freddie, Anti, Jacob, and Brett dressed up as Michaelangelo, Donatello, Leonardo, and Rafael from the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Brent was dressed as Sully from Monsters Inc, and those were just the costumes he managed to figure out on his own.

There were far too many others for him to keep track of or understand and some were just a headache to look at, so he ended up focusing on the one thing he knew would keep his attention - the way your ass moved in your dress as you walked through club toward the VIP section they’d reserved for the team party.

The girls complimented you on your outfit and assured Andrei that he looked cute instead of silly, and it only made him feel marginally better.

He was still dressed as a giant apple for the night, after all, while his bombshell of a girlfriend looked like a walking fantasy.

After you’d said hello to everyone, the two of you ended up separated, the girls heading out to the dancefloor, some of the guys heading to the bar to grab drinks and snacks, and the rest settling into the VIP section.

Andrei plopped down between Jesperi and Freddie, removing his costume’s hat and putting it on the little table in their section, tuning out most of the conversation happening within the first ten minutes and instead finding himself focused on you and that beautiful dress out on the dance floor.

His eyes were glued to you as you danced, lost in the familiar way your hips moved and how carefree you were. Other people may have needed a little bit of alcohol in them to be so uninhibited, but you didn’t. You never had.

Watching you now, it reminds him of the first night he met you.

It had been earlier this year, when the guys had been having a particularly rough week of games, and they’d gone out to a club to relieve some stress.

You’d been there with some of your friends, and Andrei had been feeling a little bit too confident after a few drinks. He’d locked eyes with you barely ten minutes after he’d arrived and couldn’t take his eyes off you the whole night, couldn’t seem to find the need to wander more than ten feet out of your orbit.

He finally found the courage to approach you after Martinook had all but threatened to send Freddie after you first, pushing off the bar and heading over to you. 

He tried the gentlemanly approach, introduced himself properly by taking your hand, and from that first touch there was this crazy electric wildfire of sexual tension that neither of you seemed to be able to deny. You didn’t seem disturbed by him being five years younger than you, and he couldn’t have cared any fucking less about you being twenty eight. 

He worried for maybe half a second about you not being able to understand him through his accent, but you had no problems with it, even beyond the blaring music of the club. Then, he offered to get you a drink or a bottle of water - whatever you wanted really, he didn’t care - before asking if you minded if he joined you for a dance.

One dance became two, then four, then six, and then the next thing he knew, you both had locked yourselves in a storage closet down the back hall of the club and he had you pinned against the wall, his jeans and boxer briefs around his thighs, your dress hiked up to your waist, thong pulled to the side, and his cock buried so deep inside of you that you had to bite down on the meaty flesh of his shoulder to keep from crying out too loudly. 

You’d fucked twice in that closet before you took him back to your place and fucked another two times. In the morning, you’d managed to contain yourselves in the shower, but Andrei lost all restraint and licked your pussy on your kitchen table until your throat grew hoarse and your legs shook so much your table started to squeak.

He managed to rein it in and take you on a date two days later, and then you invited him out for dinner another three days after that. After about ten dates without any sexual interactions at all, and about a month in total of you actually knowing each other, he’d asked you to be his girlfriend, and you both celebrated when you said ‘yes’ to him by locking yourselves in at his place and fucking like bunnies for about two days.

Andrei had learned everything about what you liked in bed in that first month, and you’d learned everything about what he liked. 

You’d also learned enough about one another that Andrei was pretty sure he’d end up marrying you and having about five or seven kids within the next seven years, because there was no possible way he’d ever manage to find someone as brilliant as you ever again.

And at this point, you’d barely been dating a year. 

He’d say he was probably moving too fast in any other circumstance, but he was pretty sure you were on the same page.

He feels a nudge in his side, and Andrei glances over, momentarily shocked because he’d completely forgotten his friends were dressed in costumes, and the orange fabric around Freddie’s eyes nearly scared him shitless for a second. 

“You want another drink? The chipmunks lost a bet so they’re buying for the night.” Freddie says, gesturing to where Jesperi had gotten up and was now writing down orders on his phone. 

“Sure,” Andrei says. “I’ll take one.”

Jesperi points to where you are on the dance floor and asks Andrei “One for her too, right?”, and when Andrei nods, Jesperi gives him a thumbs up before stalking over to the bar.

He has a feeling it’s going to take Jesperi awhile to put in the drink orders for the whole section, so Andrei resumes watching you, reminiscing on the day you first met and chiming in on the conversations around him every now and again.

You finally wander over with the girls once the drinks arrive, and Andrei immediately opens his arms, feeling content when you settle into his embrace and onto his lap. He hands you your drink, careful to keep your hair out of your face when you take a sip.

There’s a sound of fake retching, and you and Andrei cut your eyes to where Jesperi’s making faces at the two of you. You roll your eyes, settling into Andrei a little more, and he wraps his arms around your waist, securing you to him.

“Jealous, KK?” One of the other girls asks, and Jesperi’s nose scrunches.

“Hardly.” He scoffs. “I’m basically watching my older sister make out with one of my best friends. It’s disturbing.”

Andrei feels you stiffen in his arms, but Jesperi’s already turning away, and Andrei squeezes you gently. “Zajka?”

You turn to Andrei, a slightly stunned expression on your face. “I…does he really think of me that way?” 

“What way?” Andrei asks, bringing a hand up to gently caress your cheek. 

He can see the shock starting to settle in a little more. “Like an older sister?”

And though Andrei knows they’ve never really talked about it, because it’s not really a topic that would come up, he knows for certain the answer is yes. 

Especially after the way you looked after everyone during the beach trip this past summer, all Andrei heard for weeks during training camp and preseason was how much everyone missed your cooking, people asking how you were doing, and demands for him to bring you around more.

Since you’d barely been together for six months at that point, he didn’t push you about it at all because he didn’t want you to feel pressured or rushed, even though he knew you liked everyone just fine. It was another thing he felt like would make it feel like this was going too fast, even though you’d probably be on the same page about this, too.

“I think a lot of them think that way.” He admits. “Pretty sure Freddie thinks of you as a younger sister. Burnsy too, to be honest.”

There’s a thoughtful look in your eyes now, and after a beat, you nod. “I didn’t know that.”

“Is that…is that okay?” He asks, slightly unsure. He doesn’t know that he’s seen you this…contemplative before.

You turn to Andrei, and give him that dazzling smile of yours he loves so much. “Of course it’s okay. Just took me by surprise a little.”

He nods, sitting up a little more so he can press a kiss to the base of your neck. “They love you as much as I do.”

Andrei’s surprised when his kiss makes you shiver a little, and he pulls back a bit, raising a brow at you.

You flush, suddenly bashful. “I just…” He raises a brow when you seem to be trying to find the words to say, and you gesture with your head towards the dancefloor. “Feels familiar, doesn’t it?”

Realization hits Andrei and he smiles, nodding. “It does, zajka.” 

A sly, cheshire smile works its way onto your lips, and Andrei feels his heart begin to pound in anticipation. “Let’s see just how well you can tempt me a second time, moye yabloko.” 

You’re downing the rest of your drink and getting up from his lap faster than he can blink, and then you’re heading back out to the dancefloor with the girls. 

As Andrei watches you walk away, he catches the wink you send him over your shoulder before you disappear into the crowd, and he smirks to himself. 

Da nachnetsya igra.

Let the games begin.

~ 

Drink in hand, Andrei makes his way through the crowd, his puffy apple costume coming in hand by parting the crowd a little as he moves - he even has the ridiculous hat on again - until he finally reaches where you are in the middle of the dance floor. 

He taps gently on your shoulder, and when you turn around, your eyes look up at him curiously, a small smile on your face.

Andrei leans down so you can hear him better, saying “Hi, I couldn’t help but notice you earlier, and I thought I’d introduce myself and bring you a drink.”

It’s not exactly what he said that first night, but it’s close enough. So what if he skipped a few cheesy lines?

You lean back a little, staring at the drink in his hand before taking it with a small amount of hesitation. “Thank you,” you say back, leaning in like he had. “That’s really thoughtful of you.”

“I’m Andrei,” he says, holding his hand out.

You take it, shaking it once when you tell him your name in return.

The nostalgia has those butterflies resurfacing in his stomach, and he tries his best not to smile like a total idiot. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too.” You say, then smirk a little at his costume. “You know, I’m pretty sure I was warned to stay away from you.”

He laughs a little, stepping closer into your space. Bending down so he’s right next to your ear, he rests a hand on your waist and says “One bite won’t hurt.”

At your responding chuckle, Andrei feels goosebumps ignite on his arms. “I’ve heard that before.”

“It’s different this time,” he promises. “It’s just us. And there’s no punishment.”

“Sounds a little too good to be true,” you say, pulling away a little and taking a sip of your drink, blinking up at him from under your lashes.

Andrei rights himself, shrugging. “Only one way to find out, isn’t there?” He gestures with his head towards a hallway that he’d confirmed about ten minutes ago had both a storage closet as well as what looked like an unused office full of boxes, but still came equipped with a couch and a perfectly solid desk.

He makes his way toward the hall, waiting for all of five minutes before you appear in front of him, the glass your drink was in now empty save for the cherry stem he already knew had a knot in it.

“Fancy seeing you here,” you joke, taking careful steps toward him. 

He holds a hand out, pleased when you take it, and he leads you toward the end of the hall. The door to the storage closet is on the left, and the door to the empty office is on the right. He places you in front of him, his hands resting on your waist from behind.

“Pick a door, zajka.” He says softly. 

You hum a little, taking a step forward. You open the door on the right first, but there’s a small noise that leaves you, and Andrei’s confused when you don’t take a step inside. You open the door to the left, and the second you see the closet, you spin around, smiling wickedly at him before pulling him inside.

He flips you the second he crosses the threshold, shutting the door and locking it before pinning you against the wood, placing his arms on either side of your head. “Didn’t like the office?”

You shake your head, tilting your chin up, waiting. “Not the same.”

“I would’ve liked fucking you on the desk.” He admits, the image of it still fresh in his brain.

“You didn’t fuck me on a desk till I moved in with you.” You remind him.

He smirks. “Oh I remember,” he promises. “Hard to forget the time you made me come so hard I almost passed out.”

You shrug. “You’re still alive, aren’t you?”

He drops one of his hands from the door only to bring it up between you, running a finger down the side of your neck, to your collarbone, your chest, before teasing at the neckline of your dress. 

“If you rip this dress before you get me in your bed, moye yabloko, you’ll be sorry.” You warn, but even so, your back arches off the wall, pushing your chest into his touch.

Andrei smirks. He’s never been one to shy away from his punishments.

Instead, he trails his hand down your dress and to the hem, pushing it up your thighs until he can reach under it to bring his fingers to your core, pleased when he finds the fabric of your thong already soaked. 

“May I, moya koroleva?” He asks sweetly, eyes focused on where his hand lingers. 

You nod, breath hitching a little when he pulls your thong to the side and runs his finger between your folds. “I want it like the first time.”

Andrei blinks, eyes darting back up to your face. 

That first night was intense - and beautiful - but also not the kind of sex the two of you have most often. He likes to please you, likes taking his time warming you up or worshiping you the way he’s learned that you like best. Other than the occasional quickie, you two rarely ever just get straight to it.

“Can you take me like this? Right now?” He checks.

“I can,” you say. You reach forward, fingers finding one of the belt loops of his pants and pulling him forward. “Please, malysh. I don’t want to wait.”

His heart beats hard against his ribcage. 

It’s rare that you’re the one pleading for him, that you’re the one asking for it this way, and he can feel the way his breath starts to stutter as he tries to maintain his composure.

The second he nods in agreement, it’s a race to get inside of you.

In a hurry, the two of you work to unbutton and unzip his pants, shuffling them down his thighs along with his boxer briefs. His aching cock springs free, and before you can reach for him, he’s bending down to lift you up and pin you against the wall, helping to wrap your legs around his waist. 

He balances you in one arm as you press your weight into the wall, reaching down to line his cock up to your entrance. The second he can feel it catch, he presses in at the same time that you angle your hips downward, and he pushes until he’s seated all the way inside and his hips press yours against the wall.

You take a gasping breath, head lolling back as your eyes squeeze shut, arms flying to his shoulders and nails digging into the skin as your pussy grips him tightly. 

“Zajka?” He asks, worried. “Are you okay?” 

You nod, breathing harshly through your nose. “Move, malysh, spasibo. I need you.”

Andrei has a sudden feeling he’s going to have a hard time trying to remember to breathe if you keep talking.

Carefully, he pulls his hips back until just the head of his cock rests inside, and then he pushes back inside in one brutal stroke that seizes the breath from your lungs once more.

“Just like the first time,” he reminds you, before setting a rough and steady pace. 

Your moans fill the room in seconds, and Andrei doesn’t care anymore about who can hear you or who can’t. 

Especially when he knows you couldn’t care less about it either.

This time, you’re not at Freddie’s house and worried about making a good impression. 

You’re here, with him, pretending like it’s the first night you met all over again, except this time there’s less to be cautious of for both of you.

Although…

If you do want it like it’s the first time again…

“You can’t moan too loud, kroshka.” He says, pressing in closer to you as his strokes slow a little, dragging himself in and out of you with precision. “Don’t want anyone to hear how pretty you are when you’re dripping on my cock, do you?”

Recognition flashes in your eyes like a bright flame, and you capture your lip between your teeth, nodding obediently. 

“Need something to bite down on, my beautiful Eve?” He murmurs, gathering you up in his arms and pushing until he’s flush against you, tilting his head to expose his neck. “Do it, it’s okay.”

You wind your arms around his shoulder and lean forward, and when Andrei feels your lips on his neck, his whole body shivers, groaning at the way he can feel your teeth bite down before licking over the wound, then sucking a bruise into the skin.

That’s another thing the two of you don’t give a shit about anymore. 

Andrei’s all too proud to wear your marks like a badge of honor, so as you suck on his skin, feeling his pulse beneath your tongue, he knows you take notice of the way his cock drives deeper into you.

He doesn’t know if he’ll be able to manage a second round in this closet, too desperate to fill you up and then drag you home so he can do it over and over again.

When his hips stutter a little, you finally pull away from his neck, leaning back to examine your work, smiling proudly. “Such a pretty little thing, moye yabloko.”

Fuck.

It is just like the first night all over again.

Andrei remembers the dirty things you whispered to him then, too. He remembers how he’d never heard something so sultry, so sexy in his entire life. It somehow made him hornier, made him feel like he could go insane with how much it made him need you even more in that moment. 

It was like you knew exactly what to say and what to do to drive him insane, to make him feel like he would do anything to prove to you just how good he could be. 

“You’re the same good boy you were that first night, too,” You taunt again when he doesn’t respond, and a sharp hiss falls from his lips when you tug his hair harshly, prompting him to tilt his head up so he can look at you.

His knees nearly buckle, and he thrusts hard into you once in warning. 

“You can’t say things like that,” he breathes out, focusing on fucking into you in deep, hard strokes. 

“Why?” You breathe out, bringing your hands from his shoulders and tossing the hat of his costume off of his head before sinking your fingers into his hair. 

He shakes his head. Any other man might be embarrassed, but that’s never been a thing between the two of you, and especially not when you’re being intimate. 

“It makes me…u menya babochki.” Andrei admits, trying his best to stay focused. I get butterflies.

“Babochki?” You ask, tone just shy of a whine, slightly mocking him. “Do I give my pretty shchenok butterflies?”

He looks up when he feels your hand on his cheek, staring into your eyes, and he can feel himself getting closer to his orgasm just looking at you. You run your thumb over his lips as they part, resting the pad of it on his tongue before his cheeks hollow, sucking gently on the digit. 

You smirk, eyes rolling back in your head when Andrei gives a particularly hard thrust, causing your back to arch a little more and your body to press further against his. He can tell you’re getting closer, can read all your little tells. 

The way your chest starts to heave, how he can see your nipples starting to poke through the fabric of your dress, the way your body starts to go lax, thumb slipping from his mouth and hand moving to rest on his chest instead. 

“You gonna come for me?” You ask, tone somewhere between taunting and begging. 

Andrei nods furiously, welcoming the molten lava spreading across his spine as he finds solace inside of you. “Da, moya koroleva.”

“Gonna come inside of me?” This question is definitely a taunt. “Gonna fill up the pretty stranger the very first night?”

“I did it once,” he reminds you. “I’d do it again, but only for you.”

Your blinding, satisfied smile takes over your face and Andrei feels his heart fall to your feet in adoration. “Come with me,” he begs.

You nod, tilting your hips a little until he’s hitting that beautiful spot inside, and your eyes flutter shut, pussy squeezing tighter around him.

He loses all control after that, cock pounding into you in a frenzied, nearly manic pace, trying so hard to keep going for you while also chasing his own orgasm. 

When he feels you lock him in that familiar death grip, your come drenching his cock and making the slide oh so right, his eyes squeeze shut, and a loud, satisfied groan leaves his mouth as he throbs, spilling inside of you until he feels like he can’t breathe right.

For a moment, the two of you can only remain like that - you slumped and sated in Andrei’s arms and his hips pinning you to the wall. 

When he feels you begin to squirm, he carefully pulls out of you, then sets you back on your own two feet as gently as he can. He’s quick to locate a stack of paper towels behind him and grabs a few to help you clean up before pulling your thong back into place and tossing the paper towels into a trash can near the door.

“Do I look okay?” You ask, fussing with your dress.

Andrei nods, letting out a content sigh. “Beautiful as always. What about me?”

When you glance up at him, Andrei’s expecting the same, but then you blink, and a surprised laugh practically barks out of you. It startles him a little, and your hand is flying to cover your mouth, eyes glistening with delight.

“What?” He presses, starting to fuss with his own costume. “What is it?”

“Drei, how hard did you come?” You ask through fits of giggles.

“You said like the first night, so pretty hard.” He admits, unashamed. “Why?”

“You’re…you’re…” You can barely say it through your laughter. After a second, you take a deep breath, calming yourself, and then smile at him happily. “You’re as red as an apple.”

If he - apparently - wasn’t already red, he definitely would be by now. 

“How bad is it?” Andrei asks, rubbing at his face absently. 

You shrug. “No better and no worse than after a shift on the ice.”

He pouts, brows furrowing. “I don’t know if that’s good or bad.”

“It’s normal,” you explain. “It might be tough to explain away when we say goodbye to everyone in a minute, but it’ll be alright.”

“We’re going home?” He asks, already excited. 

You nod, shrugging your shoulders a little. “Pretty sure that’s what we did the first night, too.”

He smirks, stepping closer to you and pulling you to him by your waist. “We did a lot of things that first night. And the next morning.”

Your own cheeks flush now, and you nod. “That we did.”

“Feel like a trip down memory lane, kroshka?” He murmurs, already leaning down.

You rise up on your tiptoes, lips brushing against his when you say “I think that sounds lovely, malysh,” before kissing him softly.

[floralpascal]

Hiii I love you work of Frankie <3 a request if you’re up for it, since I love your writing style and how you present him hehe

Something inspired by Billie’s Bossa Nova lines:

“You better lock your phone,

And look at me when we’re alone,

Won’t take a lot to get you going,

I’m sorry if it’s torture though,

I know I know”

Idk I see a shy Frankie and reader tilting his face towards her with her finger and whispering in his ear and sksksk go crazy please

You're an absolute genius for this idea! I love this song sooo much and my mind went wild with incorporating it into the story. I absolutely did not expect it to take this long or to write this much when I started. I also didn't expect this to turn into smut but here we are! I hope you like it!!

Bossa Nova

Summary: You and Frankie are both head-over-heels for each other... only neither of you realize the other is interested. When Santi sets you both up with mystery dates, you're both surprised to find that Santi has set you up with each other.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader

Word Count: 6.3k

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Warnings: kissing, fingering, protected p-in-v sex, creampie

You shouldn’t have told Santi about it. You should’ve just kept your mouth shut. But how were you supposed to know that your vent session would lead to this?

The crux of the issue was that your dating life was beyond fruitless. Date after date, it always went the same. Either the spark wasn’t there, the conversation was as easy as pulling teeth, or the guy wouldn’t get off his damn phone long enough to genuinely interact with you. It had left you feeling more than a little frustrated. Had every good guy already been snatched up and now all you had to pick from were the leftovers? 

Or was it you? Was it the fact that the only guy you wanted to go on a date with was Santi’s best friend? You had been introduced to Frankie at one of Santi’s infamous cookouts. The same night that Santi had accidentally burnt your hamburgers to a crisp, you had met the sweetest man in the world. He had been quiet back then, the conversation a bit awkward. But after multiple nights out with Frankie, Santi, and the Miller brothers, you had slowly gotten to know Frankie better. And damn it he was driving you insane. Despite how down bad you were for him, it never went anywhere.

Of course the one guy you wanted didn’t feel the same.

“There’s just no single guy out there who actually wants to talk,” you lamented to your friend, Santi, one day. You hadn’t meant to rant like this when you had invited him over for dinner so the two of you could catch up. But after he asked how your last date had gone, a quizzical eyebrow raised from across the kitchen table, you hadn’t been able to stop from telling him. You continued, “No one even seems to care to be on the date at all. It’s like they don’t have anything better to do, so going on a date with me is their next best option, you know?”

Santi — who had been listening to your rant sympathetically for about five minutes — suddenly scrunched his eyebrows before a scheming smile slowly spread across his lips. 

You knew that look from a mile away. 

“No, no, no!” You warned preemptively. “Whatever crazy idea you just had: no.”

“What if I said I knew a great guy who’s single and thoughtful and would be perfect for you?”

You sighed, rolling your eyes. Of course he would try to set you up. “Santi, no. I appreciate it but I’m done with the dating scene. I’ve embarrassed myself enough. I give up.”

He shook his head, that annoying grin still plastered to his face as he pointed his fork at you. “Nope, no quitter talk. I’m telling you, you’ll love this guy. I can’t believe I never realized how perfect you’d be for each other before now!”

“Santi-”

“Uh-uh. This is happening. You’re free on Friday, right? You’re going on a date with him. It’s a crime that you haven’t already.”

“What’s his name?” You asked. “You haven’t even said who it is.”

Santi shook his head again, saying, “That’s gonna be a surprise.”

You tried to explain that you were over the disappointment of dating and that going out with a mystery guy didn’t sound much more promising than any of your past dates. But it didn’t matter. Santi had set his mind on it.

“He’s been having bad luck on dates just like you have,” he explained as he whipped out his phone, presumably sending a text to the guy about this arrangement. 

“Santi, seriously, I don’t know about this…”

“What’s the matter?”

“Usually when dates go bad, the one bright side is that I know I’ll never see the guy again. I don’t know him or anyone else that knows him, so there won’t be any fallout when things go bad. Won’t it be weird for us and you if things don’t go well?”

He shook his head with decisive confidence before clicking his phone off. “That’s the thing, it won’t go badly. I’m telling you, it’ll be the best date of your life. You’ve got to trust me on this. It’s gonna be great.”

You looked at the ceiling, mulling this all over as you tapped the edge of your empty plate. Almost completely fed up with the idea of dating, the last thing you wanted was another failed date. But Santi was dead-set on it and seemed to truly believe it was something that could work. And simply waiting for love to come your way was getting both boring and disheartening. 

After considering everything for a moment, you asked, “He’s not going to be some murderous creep, right?”

Santi beamed, seemingly taking your question as confirmation that you were interested in the date. “Nah, you’ll love him. I trust him with my life.”

You raised an eyebrow. Santi wasn’t the kind of man who said that he trusted someone with his life unless he really meant it. 

Bing!

Santi looked down at his phone before smiling up at you again. “He’s in. How does Friday at seven sound?”

“I said no.”

Santi had been on Frankie’s ass for days now. When Frankie had gotten that text from him a few days ago — You down for a date with a nice, cute friend of mine? — he hadn’t known the headache that would ensue when he turned the offer down. Santi refused to tell him who the date was with, asserting that he would love the mystery woman. Unsatisfied with Frankie’s rejection, Santi had hounded him every day since, even going so far as to show up at his house today out of the blue. Frankie had heaved a long-suffered sigh when he saw Santi’s red Jeep pull up his driveway. 

“Come on, Fish,” Santi groaned, exasperatedly following Frankie around his dimly lit garage as he worked on his truck. “She’s pretty, she’s funny, she’s bold. I’m telling you, you’ll both hit it off.”

Frankie merely sighed as he sifted around his toolbox for a socket. He hadn’t had much luck in the dating department for years. Either the woman he was with didn’t seem to be that interested in him or it got too awkward as the conversation petered out. The best stories he had were Army stories, but those didn’t tend to go over well with dates. He was a man who was rough around the edges, simple, middle aged, and quieter than most. In short, he didn’t think he was much for anyone to get excited about anyways. He wasn’t the kind of guy that wowed someone on a blind date.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go on the date, it was the fact that he wanted more than a date. He wanted something real. A love that gripped his soul, that left him spinning, that left him losing his bearings. Maybe he wasn’t a sentimental man, but he was a bit of a hopeless romantic at heart. He just didn’t think that any of that stuff was ever meant for him, and that made every failed date even more painful. 

In reality, Frankie hated how he felt after every failed date. It tanked his self-esteem more than he cared to admit. He didn’t think he could take it again. It didn’t help that — when it came to dating — Frankie was on the shyer side. Though, maybe that had something to do with the whole self-esteem issue, too. At one point in his life, he had been much more confident in the dating area. However, after a few decades, a couple of failed serious relationships, and plenty of terrible dates, that confidence was quickly waning.

What made it worse was that the woman he really wanted was so unattainable it hurt. Every time he saw you at one of Santi’s cookouts or a night out at the bars, he felt that familiar pang in his chest. You were the opposite of Frankie, so confident and funny and gorgeous. Every time your hand brushed over his arm his heart almost gave out. Every time you smiled, he couldn’t look away. When you were in the room, you were the center of his attention, no matter how hard he tried to pay attention to anything else. The fact was that no other woman on any date had ever made him feel like you did. No other woman was ever you. 

It was that thought that had caused him to tell Santi no. He was sure the mystery woman was pretty and funny and whatever else Santi said, but the fact of the matter was that she wasn’t you. It didn’t matter that you didn’t seem to be interested in Frankie like that, he had fallen for you all the same. And now he couldn’t seem to be interested in anyone else.

“What else do I have to say, man?” Santi questioned, practically pleading as Frankie finally closed his hand around the cool metal of the socket he had been looking for. 

“Nothing,” Frankie responded, trying not to sound as down as he felt. “It’ll end just like all the others. I’m just not interested.”

He hated to let down his best friend, especially when he seemed so invested in this idea, but it was just too much for Frankie. After his last date, he had deleted all the dating apps from his phone and called it quits. He hadn’t told Santi this both because of how lame he would sound and because he knew that he would try to set him up exactly like this. Santi, being as extroverted as he was, knew a lot of women and once he started setting Frankie up, he wouldn’t stop until Frankie found someone. 

What Santi didn’t understand was that he had already fucked up Frankie’s love life enough when he introduced him to you that first night on his back deck. From that moment on, Frankie hadn’t been interested in anyone else. Whoever had come up with the term falling in love had been right because meeting you had felt almost exactly like a helicopter going down in a tailspin. One second, all was fine. The next, he was hurtling toward the ground.

He couldn’t tell Santi that he was madly in love with you either. It would only make things even worse when Santi inevitably meddled. Frankie didn’t think he would survive embarrassment like that, especially when you were much too good for him. Like there was any way in hell you felt the same as he did. 

“You’re both so goddamn stubborn,” Santi groaned to himself before taking a breath and pressing at his brow. Frankie slid underneath his truck again and started to work. For a moment, he actually thought he had won this dispute, Santi uncharacteristically quiet as he leaned against the old frame of the truck. But after a beat of silence, Santi sighed and called pointedly, “You know what? It doesn’t matter. I’ve already told her you’ll meet her at seven tonight.”

Without thinking, Frankie leaned up and cried, “You what-?” before promptly smacking his head against the metal above him. He scooted out from under the truck, holding his head and cursing. When he found that he didn’t have any serious injury, he trained his fury on Santi again. “Dude? Seriously?”

Santi, who was holding back from laughing at Frankie’s outburst, simply put his hands up. “I knew you were gonna pull this shit, so I told her you’d already said yes.”

A barrage of questions ran through his mind. Why would you do that? Why didn’t you mention that at the start? How do I get out of this now? However the only question he was able to get out was, “What the fuck, man?”

“You’ve gotta trust me on this one, Fish! You can’t back out now.”

Frankie grumbled, “I never even agreed to be in this.”

Santi simply continued on, seemingly ignoring him at this point. “It’s at that one grill place on the West side of town that Benny likes. You still have that shirt you wore to Benny’s birthday dinner? Wear that one. It’s not too formal but it looks good.”

“Fine. Fine. I’ll do it. But when this goes sideways, it’s on you.”

“When this goes perfectly,” Santi countered, “you better make me best man at the wedding.”

Frankie didn’t know how to tell him that he’d be lucky to even make it through the date, let alone get to anything resembling a relationship. 

“You’re really gonna do it?” Santi asked skeptically. “You’re not lying?”

Frankie sighed as he defeatedly tossed his socket back into the open toolbox, letting it loudly clang against the contents of the box. It wasn’t like he had much of a choice in this situation. “Yeah, I’ll do it.”

Santi beamed before clapping him on the shoulder. “You’re gonna thank me for this tomorrow.”

“Sure,” Frankie replied, sarcasm dripping from the word. If anything, he thought he would be embarrassed beyond belief tomorrow after Santi would inevitably ask how it went.

Fuck. Frankie didn’t think he had it in him to go through all the disappointment again. Much less to have his best friend see it. 

As Santi went to leave, he yelled over his shoulder, “Oh, and she’s not scared away by Army stories either. I’ve already told her plenty.”

Frankie’s stomach sank. “You didn’t tell her about the time I was drunk in Texas, did you?”

Santi only gave him an evil smile as he continued to back away, shrugging. “She thought it was funny.”

Later that night, Frankie sat at a table at Nino’s Bar & Grill, clad in the blue button-down Santi insisted he wear as he anxiously waited for his mystery date to arrive. In the hours since Santi had first roped him into this date, the man had never stopped texting him about her, all the while keeping her identity a secret. His insistence that this would be the best date ever had Frankie somewhat dreading the ultimate letdown that was coming. 

Hell, she was already ten minutes late. Maybe, he thought, she had already spared him from the date by standing him up. It certainly wouldn’t be the worst end to a date that he’d ever had. 

Suddenly, a text came through from Santi. Frankie stared at it, reading it again and again but it was just as confusing every time. 

Did you seriously think I hadn’t noticed the way you look at her?

After a second, he sent back a simple: What??

He sighed as he looked at his watch again. Maybe he should just go home, crack open a beer, and get back to work on his truck. It didn’t seem like-

“Frankie?”

His attention snapped up from the tabletop to find a gorgeous woman standing above him, the sunset shining through the windows behind her like a colorful halo. She stared at him questioningly, almost in awe. 

You. It was you. 

He had never thought that those scenes in movies where a guy was tongue-tied seeing a woman was actually something that could happen until his mind was blank and mouth ajar. 

Finally, he said your name, practically dumbstruck. “W-what are you doing here?”

You simply laughed sweetly — a beautiful, almost heart-stopping sound. “I, um… I think I may be here for the same reason you are.”

All at once, the reality of everything hit him. Santi. His insistence about this date. The text. Santi knew. He had set this whole thing up because he had known this whole time how Frankie felt about you. 

Suddenly, all of Santi’s glowing descriptions of you clicked into place, all of them true and none of them doing you justice. Now, Santi saying that you were pretty felt like a hell of an understatement. He knew that, somewhere, that smug son of a bitch was incredibly proud of himself. Not that Frankie could quite blame him right now. 

“Did you know?” Frankie asked, rising from his seat to stand in front of you. 

You shook your head. “No. It seems like we were both in the dark here. But… I’m definitely not upset about it now.”

It was at this last part that your eyes met his again, hopeful and searching. 

And just like that, in a mere twenty seconds, his whole world tipped on its head. The force of it would have knocked him clean off his feet if he let it — and he nearly did. If he hadn’t already been sure that he was indeed awake, he wouldn’t have quite believed it was really happening. It hit his system like a drug, the new wave of adrenaline filling his head with static. This static wasn’t the absence of thought — not anymore. No, now his head was filled with way too many all at once, each fighting to be heard until there was nothing but chaotic noise. 

Then, over it all came a clear fact: you felt the same. Tonight was the chance he never thought he would have. Suddenly, his whole outlook on this date was changed.

“Me, too.” With a small burst of confidence, he admitted, “I… there’s no one else I would’ve wanted to have this with.”

The smile that bloomed on your face was as blinding as the beautiful sunset behind you. 

Frankie guided you to your seat, pulling it out for you. Before you sat, you grazed your soft hand across his forearm as you thanked him, the touch sweet and electric. 

Remember to fucking breathe, Frankie told himself. 

As he made his way back to his seat, you spoke again, “I’m so, so sorry I was late! Traffic was terrible.”

Frankie — who was sure you were worth waiting for — assured you that it was no problem. 

He couldn’t shake the feeling that this was different. You were different from anyone he had ever been on a date with. He couldn’t put a finger on exactly what it was that made you feel so… special. 

“So,” he started, trying not to sound as breathless as he felt, “can I buy you a drink?”

You nodded with a smile, giving him a knowing look. “I know you’re a beer man. How about an order for two?”

Goddamn. For the first time in a long time, Frankie felt himself getting his hopes up. 

You didn’t think you would ever be able to forgive Santi for this. You had known him for three years and he hadn’t set you up with Frankie like this sooner. All those terrible dates could have been avoided if Santi had just meddled in both of your love lives from the start. 

Frankie was ridiculously handsome, endlessly sweet, and not nearly as quiet as he tended to be at Santi’s get-togethers. He had an easy sort of humor, one that was simple yet had you laughing seemingly without even trying. While you had both always just clicked, talking with him tonight made it feel as if you had known each other forever. You were only three hours in and this was already the best date of your life. 

The fact that you thought the words only three hours into the date blew your mind. For a long time now, a three hour long date usually had you wishing for the quickest way out. You couldn’t wait to leave the train wreck that it usually was. Now? Three hours didn’t feel like nearly enough. You felt like you were just barely scratching the surface of Frankie, his life, his past. You loved every second you had with him in a way you never thought possible. 

You had both quickly fallen into an easy rhythm with each other, all polite questions and light humor. While he was incredibly nice, you never felt as if he was putting on a persona. He was genuine, a trait that was both refreshing and intriguing. With Frankie, what you see is what you get, Santi had once told you. He had been telling the truth. And, damn, you liked what you saw. 

Over the hours, your conversation shifted, turning from testing questions into old stories. Frankie, as you already knew, was a great storyteller. Not only was he giving you some seriously embarrassing stories of Santi that had you rolling, he had pictures to back his stories up. For the first time, you were happy to see your date whip out his phone. The pictures were from decades ago and the young, beardless Frankie that looked back from those photos made you smile. He had aged, you mused as you studied his face beside you, like a fine wine. Older and more rugged, but all the more attractive for it.

You slowly slid your chair around to get a better view of his phone inch by inch until you were sat next to him, your thighs touching each other. As he showed you a particularly tame picture of his friends from the army — Santi and the Miller brothers ever present — you could see by the pink that suddenly dusted his cheeks that he was aware of your thigh against his, too. While he didn’t say anything about it, you noticed the way he leaned against you ever so slightly.

He flicked to another photo, one that immediately caught your attention. 

“Frankie,” you mused, “You’re so handsome!”

The photo he had flipped to was obviously a more recent one. He stood next to Will, both of them clad in disheveled white button-ups, ties undone around their collars, as they smiled at the camera. An out-of-place weathered ball cap sat on top of Frankie’s head, his curls poking out the bottom. His favorite Standard Oil hat. While out of place, it was fitting for him — a piece that blatantly showed something uniquely him. The final thing that drew your eye, however, was the several undone buttons that led down his front, exposing the tanned plane of his chest. 

“Oh. I didn’t- I forgot that was-” he stuttered for a moment. He let out a nervous chuckle before explaining, “This was Will’s wedding. After the wedding, as you can see.”

You smiled. It was endearing the way he had been thrown off guard by this.

“You look ridiculously handsome,” you reiterated, looking at him pointedly. 

Frankie flushed under the compliment again, his breathing noticeably picking up. “I- uh- thanks. I had the shirt tailored. And the pants-”

You giggled a bit, drawing his attention to you. Leaning close to his ear, you took a risk as you sweetly whispered, “The suit was nice, but I was talking about you. And the second compliment? I meant that you look ridiculously handsome tonight, too.”

Stunned, he simply held your gaze for a moment, plush pink lips slightly parted as you pulled back to look at him. He looked down at his hands as he mumbled a thank you, a bewildered smile on his lips. Obviously, he wasn’t used to such compliments.

Taking another risk, you brought the tip of your finger to the underside of his chin. Coarse hair tickled your skin as you brought his wide gaze up to yours. 

“I mean it,” you assured, your finger dropping so that you could lay it on his shoulder. 

“And I mean it when I say you’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen.” He said it breathlessly, your small gestures seemingly overwhelming his ability to breathe. His eyes were on you, wide and bare. “I thought so the day I met you.”

He feels it, too.

The world was still for a moment, the very air suspended between the two of you. The rest of the restaurant had fallen away, leaving only you and Frankie and the few inches between your lips. 

All at once, Frankie locked his phone, abandoned it on the table, brought his hand to your cheek, and kissed you hard. 

The world tipped. 

Kissing Frankie felt like the drop of a rollercoaster, curling up next to the endless warmth of a fire, the joy of visiting an unknown city. All at once. 

The force of it all stole the air from your lungs but you didn’t care. You couldn’t. The rush and hum in your veins wouldn’t let you. All you could think about was the movement of his plush lips against yours as your fingers wound into his curls.

It wasn’t a kiss fit for a first date. Yet, somehow, it felt right. Frankie felt right. 

Frankie was the first to break, seemingly as breathless as you were. As your hooded eyes fluttered up to meet his, you found him to be as surprised as you were. He looked at you with a hungry sort of wonder before he blinked, a bit of self-consciousness falling across his features. You hadn’t noticed that he had lost that self-consciousness until it was already taking hold again — and if that was what he was like when it was gone, you wanted to see what he was like when he fully let go. 

“S-sorry,” he stammered breathily. “I know that was probably too fast.”

You shook your head earnestly, not wanting to allow that self-consciousness of his to take over again. “Not fast enough.”

Hope flashed in his eyes. “Yeah?”

You nodded. “Do you wanna… get out of here?”

You saw Frankie’s eyes go wide and — for a second — thought you had pushed a little too far. But then he was fishing his wallet out of his back pocket as he answered definitively, “I’d love that.”

Now, you could see that same fire that you felt behind his eyes. A fire that filled you with a ridiculous amount of excitement.

He settled the check before you could even offer to pay, but now you were a little more than distracted as butterflies bloomed in your stomach for the first time in a long time. 

This wasn’t like you. None of this was like you. You didn’t kiss guys on the first date, much less ask them to bed. Granted, most dates had you running for the door before anything like that could happen, but still. The sentiment stood. 

Everything about Frankie was different, though. And the only thing you could really think about right now was having that man under you before the night ended.

When Frankie exited the restaurant with your hand in his, the tension between you two felt like a live wire and his heart was thundering in his chest. 

In a quick moment of planning in the parking lot, he found out that the roommate you had mentioned earlier was currently at your place. His place was over a forty minute drive from this restaurant on the other side of the city. While it was doable, it seemed like a lot for how… urgently he needed you.

Just as he was starting to lose hope, your eyes flicked to the side. He watched as you playfully bit your lip, a flash of hope in your eyes. He followed your gaze across the street to see one of the many hotels in the city that he barely paid any mind to. 

So that was how he found himself with a key to room 103, your hand in his as he led you through the lobby. 

It was all a rushed blur — finding the door, turning the feeble lock on the inside, pressing you against the wall of the small room, your sweet little moans against his mouth. You were all there was. 

As much as he had loved your outfit, he liked the sight even more now that you were stripped of it all. 

All of his senses were underwater, the world moving too fast for him to keep up. He hadn’t felt like this in a long, long time. He hadn’t wanted to feel like this in a long time. But now, with your fingers twisted into his hair and your body beneath him on the plush mattress, he finally let himself go. 

Years ago, Frankie had once been caught in a riptide of the ocean. Having grown up merely a few hours away from the beach, he had known that the current couldn’t be fought. It was too strong, a force of nature one couldn’t hope to go against. It felt a hell of a lot like this. Like you. You had caught him as unsuspecting as the current had that day. Only this time, he didn’t want to get out. He didn’t swim parallel to shore until he could escape your gasp, he only let you drag him out to the depths of an unfamiliar sea.

Frankie’s lips were everywhere. Your lips, your neck, your chest. You closed your eyes, letting the feeling wash over you. 

“Frankie,” you whined, voice so breathy you barely recognized it yourself. “Frankie, I need you. I need you right now.”

The warmth of his hand slid up to palm at your breast, his mouth finding yours again. 

“You’ve got me,” he assured you, voice deliciously deep and raspy. “I’m yours.”

You would’ve paid more mind to this last part if his free hand hadn’t been sliding down your stomach to your pussy. A gasp escaped you as he toyed with your clit for a moment, rubbing slow circles. 

“Fuck, yeah. That’s it,” he mumbled. “You’re so wet already. You’re so fuckin’ beautiful.”

As he leaned down to kiss your neck, you felt him slip a finger into your heat. You grabbed at his back, at his hair, lost in the feeling of him as you clung to him like a lifeline. It was slow at first, testing before he began to build up to a steady pace. Already, it wasn’t enough. You needed so much more. 

When you bucked your hips looking for more friction, Frankie said, “I know, I know. You’re just so tight, baby. Gotta work you up.”

Much to your dismay, he pulled his finger out for a moment. Bringing his attention back to your clit, he stopped your protest dead in your throat. Then, he slipped two fingers back into you, resuming his pace from before. 

He pushed himself up a little, looking first at your face and then down where you took his fingers with lust-blown eyes. Frankie was still in his boxers, but you could see the prominent outline of his hard cock straining against the black fabric. 

“Fuck,” he mused, before slipping a third finger into you. You moaned out his name as the familiar coil began to build in your stomach. 

“Frankie…Frankie — fuck, baby — I’m gonna come. I’m gonna-”

Suddenly, the air was stolen from your lungs, your mouth open in a silent scream as your orgasm slammed into you. You clenched around Frankie’s fingers, but he kept going, praising you all the while. 

“That’s it. That’s it, hermosa. Ride it out.”

Your orgasm lasted a lifetime, Frankie drawing it out of you for a length of time you hadn’t thought possible. Wave after blissful wave. 

When you came down, panting and head spinning, you found Frankie popping his fingers in his mouth, eyes closed and moaning a little as he did. 

“You even taste sweet,” he mused. 

You giggled, pulling him down to kiss you again. After a moment, you pulled away enough to whisper against his lips, “Need these off, Frankie.”

You lightly tugged at the band of his boxers, giving him a hint. 

Frankie threw himself backwards, rushing to push the fabric down his legs and discard it to the floor in whatever direction it decided to go. 

Oh. Oh, wow. 

To say that Frankie was impressive seemed like an understatement. Already flushed and leaking, his cock was both long and thick. 

For the first time in your life, you found yourself saying, “I don’t know if it’ll fit.”

You saw Frankie’s mouth twitch up for a moment. “Now you’re just stroking my ego.”

You pushed yourself up to your knees, scooting over top of Frankie so that you straddled him. In the midst of it, lust replaced the humor on his face. His hands found your waist as you used a hand on his chest to coax him to lay back on the mattress.

“I’ll do a little more than just stroke it,” you promised. 

“Fuck,” Frankie breathed, almost to himself. Bringing your hand to his cock, you teased him with a few testing pumps. He tipped his head back against the bed, groaning as you ghosted the tip of your thumb over the head. With a deep baritone, he pleaded, “God, baby, please.”

How could you deny that? You couldn’t even hold yourself back anymore. 

You guided him to your entrance before slowly lowering to take him. It was a stretch, one that felt overwhelming and all too good at the same time. Frankie’s hands found your hips, a string of encouraging praises falling from his lips as he watched you take every inch of him with laser-like focus. 

“That’s it, baby,” he cooed, disheveled and wrecked as he looked up at you. “I knew you could take all of me. Goddamn, you feel so good.”

You felt so unbelievably full. Suddenly, the ability to speak had been stolen from you, replaced with the simple need for friction. 

You rocked your hips, earning a hiss from Frankie as his fingertips gripped your hips for dear life. Slowly, you built your pace as you rode him. He was so deep, you never knew it could feel like this. Soon enough, you had a good pace. 

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The rhythmic noise was in the background at first, lost to the sound of your and Frankie’s moans and grunts. But then you realized how close it was. 

Frankie read the confusion on your face immediately. “The bed,” he explained, panting. “The shitty bed’s hitting the wall.”

Oh. It was obvious now, but your brain was underwater, your only concern being the unbelievable man beneath you. But there was a small part of your brain somewhere in the haze that was still rational that knew the last thing you needed right now was hotel management knocking on your door after a complaint. 

“Floor,” Frankie offered, seemingly on the same page. “It’ll be easier on the floor.”

After a brief moment to relocate, you were once again on top of Frankie, your knees against the cheap, rough carpet as you rode him without abandon. He was lost in it, switching between letting his eyes roll back and needing to watch you. To praise you. 

“Fuck, yes, baby. This pussy’s so perfect. You’re so perfect.” He was babbling, but you loved it. A sense of urgency, of longing lurked in his tone. 

You panted and cursed, so close to the edge but not quite able to get there. “Frankie. Baby, I need more.”

Frankie’s eyes snapped up to your face, a new sort of darkness to his eyes. His hand came to your back to brace you against him before he flipped you both, your back meeting the carpet. Now, he loomed over you as he kissed you deeply. Right as he pulled his lips away from yours, he gave a sharp, hard thrust into you. You cried out, scrambling to scratch at his back in an attempt to find purchase. Again and again, he drove into you, making a devastating pace. 

His pants fanned across your lips, seemingly lost in the feeling of you. “Yeah, that’s it. That’s it. Fuck… baby — fuck — I’m close. Need you to come. Come for me, cariño.”

If you had the ability to speak anymore, you would’ve told him that you were right there, teetering on the edge. 

With a few more thrusts, you toppled over. The sounds you made were obscene as ecstasy took over. 

“Where do you want it, baby?” Frankie rasped desperately. “I need you… I need you to tell me.”

“Inside,” you gasped. 

“Fuck. You’re so fuckin’ good, baby,” Frankie cooed in your ear. “Ah. So fuckin’ tight. Squeezin’ me so good. I’m- I’m gon-”

He didn’t finish his sentence before he was driving himself deep and releasing into you. His mouth fell open as he rode it out, grinding into you. 

When he was completely spent, he let himself sag down a little above you, his head dropping as he tried to catch his breath. Every moment or so, he would let out a beautiful little ah sound, especially as he pulled out of you.

For the second time that night, you brought your pointer finger underneath his chin and slowly guided him to look at you. You caught the enamored look in his eyes a moment before you leaned up to kiss him. Slowly, meaningfully. 

Against his lips, you said, “God, Frankie, if I would’ve known that you liked me, too… or that we could’ve been doing this all this time…”

Frankie gave an incredulous laugh, pulling back to look at you. “Like you? I’ve been crazy about you since the day we met.”

You laughed, looking at the ceiling for a moment before meeting his eyes again. “Me, too! I hadn’t been able to stop staring at you the entire cookout that day.”

“I wanted to ask you out then,” he admitted, his brown eyes earnest. “And every time we saw each other afterwards. I always talked myself out of it.”

“I would’ve said yes,” you assured. 

Frankie ran a thumb over your cheek. “Think it’s too soon to ask you on a second date?”

You giggled against him, feeling his body shake against yours as he laughed, too. “Not soon enough. How does Wednesday night sound?”

“Perfect. I hope it’s not too crude to say that I hope it ends a lot like tonight did.”

You patted his tanned chest, giving him a knowing smile. “Let’s pick a restaurant closer to your place, then.”

[amazingmsme]

The Boo Brothers

AN: Late, I know, but class doesn’t get out til 9. This prompt was really fun to write! Peter & Miguel are really goofy & I just love them. How you enjoy day 10!

Peter B. Parker was a class A goofball. He liked playing games and being silly, but most importantly, he liked making people laugh and have some fun. And he was damn good at it.

Halloween always put him in a bit of a spunky mood, and he felt inspired to cause a little mischief. Maybe the chill in the air put a spring in his step, or the fun and spooky atmosphere reminded him of his love of lighthearted pranks. Whatever it was, he felt the need to pull one over on someone. He was walking down the hall when he passed an open door and saw the usual spider-gang hanging out in the wreck room: perfect.

The idea popped up so suddenly and without any preamble, that it nearly startled Peter. But he shoved his hands into his robe pockets and casually strolled in, going along with it as if he'd had this plan all along. He had a natural commitment to any bit tossed his way the likes of which you have never seen.

That is not to say that the others don't know when he's doing a bit. Quite the contrary. It is rather obvious when Peter begins some long winded ruse, but everyone is too interested in where he's going with it to put an end to it.

He flopped his right hand around in his pocket, wiggling fingers, anything he could to make it look like something was caught in there. Pavitr was the first to take notice, doing a double take when he noticed the frantic movement of his pocket and stared with wide eyes.

"Dude, what's going on with your pocket? Did you catch a squirrel or something?" he asked, drawing the rest of their attention to Peter, and now they all wanted to know what the hell he had in his pocket. Peter played along.

"Heh, no. I wish it were that simple," he said in a serious tone. He schooled his features, lunging a trapped hand at Gwen, who happened to be the closest. She squealed and jumped back as Peter reigned in his arm.

"What the hell Peter?" she asked, cheeks faintly flushed. He did his best to act apologetic.

"I'm sorry, but that's why I came to see you," he said, clutching onto his right wrist with his other hand, forcing it to stay inside the pocket. They all stared at him with confused looks.

"I'm sorry, what?" Gwen asked, arms crossed. Peter rolled his eyes, as if annoyed he had to explain himself.

"Um, look, I'll just cut to the chase. Ghosts and demons and stuff are cool now, right? And you guys are all pretty cool kids, so you're keeping with the trends-" he rambled. Miles furrowed his brows in worry and utter cluelessness, looking to Hobie for any indication of what the actual fuck he was talking about. Hobie arched a brow and shrugged, sporting an amusedly confused smirk. "I guess what I'm trying to ask is, do you guys know anything about possession?"

Gwen scoffed. "You think you're possessed?" she asked skeptically.

“Absolutely! And I’d appreciate it if you took this seriously,” he said, really hamming it up. “I mean, if you don’t believe me, just look!” He “released” his hand from the robe pocket and it made another grab at Gwen, this time being successful. He latched onto her sides and squeezed, sending her into a fit of giggles.

“You liahahar!” she squealed, doubling over as Peter scribbled over her tummy.

“Nu uh!” Peter insisted, continuing the ticklish assault. “See, it happened after MJ got me last night. My hands have been restless ever since,” he lamented, working up Gwen’s sides. “I’m afraid I’m possessed by some kind of tickle monster!”

“You ahahare not!” she denied. Hobie shrugged, a smirk tugging on his lips.

“Don’t know mate, seems legit to me,” he teased. Peter smirked himself and turned on the tallest teen, making him stumble back with a yelp. He managed to wrestle his arms above his head, alternating scribbling in each pit.

“I just can’t help who I attack! Sorry Hobie, I really can’t help it!”

“Shuhut it you bahahastard!”

“Hey, I’m just as much a victim in this as you are!”

Miguel stood in the doorway, dumbfounded, and crossed his arms over his chest. He cleared his throat, grabbing their attention.

“Is there a reason you’re torturing them, or are you just bored?” he asked in a neutral tone, arching a brow.

“Peter’s possessed by a tickle monster!” Pavitr supplied. Miguel couldn’t roll his eyes hard enough.

“Is he now?” he asked, seemingly uninterested. “Well I guess I’ll leave you all to it.” He turned to leave and felt a hand around his wrist yank him back. He stumbled a few feet, being caught by Peter from behind.

“Sorry bud, but I can’t help myself right now,” he said sympathetically as Miguel hissed and thrashed in his hold. He tried to fight back the deep laughter that wanted to spill out when Peter started kneading his hips.

“G-go toho hehehell,” he giggled out through clenched teeth. Peter gasped.

“Well that’s rude!” Peter exclaimed, one hand roaming down to squeeze his thighs. Miguel burst into loud belly laughs, shoving weakly at Peter’s hands. He made a show of taking a deep breath before blowing a raspberry against Miguel’s neck.

A string of curses gave way to helpless cackles and snorts, especially when Peter started nibbling. “Ohohokahay, oho fuhuhuck thahat’s bad! Peter!” Miguel scolded through hysterics, and needless to say everyone in the room was thoroughly amused.

Peter backed off with a smug grin. “You alright?” Miguel stood there, catching his breath and shot a harsh glare at him. He also shot him the bird. If it was even possible, Peter grinned wider.

“What?” Miguel snapped, though it wasn’t as harsh as you’d expect.

“I bit you. You’re possessed now, it’s how it works,” he explained, oh so casually. Miguel scoffed, furrowed his brows, doing anything to try to appear not amused.

“Bullshit.”

“No, it’s true! It had to be how MJ transferred it to me!” he explained frantically.

“You’re really gonna blame your wife?” Miguel quipped. Pavitr barked out a laugh before covering his mouth with his hand.

“You’re missing the point. You’re possessed by the ghost too now,” he said, acting as though it was grave news, but the sparkle in his eyes when he looked at Miguel said otherwise.

“Oh so it’s a ghost now?” he asked, not even bothering to hide his amusement anymore. “Well then, it’s a good thing they aren’t real.” He walked to the doorway, but only made it about halfway.

Miguel suddenly doubled over in pain, a dramatic and very convincing groan emitting from his throat. They all watched on in concern as he jerked upright, arching his back. He unshed his claws with a dramatic motion of his hands. A deep, low chuckle left his lips as he slowly turned towards the group.

“Well well well, it would seem that Miguel is no longer with us,” he said in a threatening tone. He caught Peter’s gaze and flashed a sharp grin, winking. He addressed the rest of them, “But he wanted me to tell you: run.” He really didn’t have to tell them twice.

They scattered like mice, and Peter easily caught Miles in the rush. He was giggling before he even touched him, but the laughter doubled once he dug into his ribs.

Miguel was able to snatch Pavitr by the collar of his shirt, yanking him back and into his clutches. He clawed at his belly and Pav immediately let out a giggly shriek.

They carried on like this for some time, playing this odd game of chase. Every once in a while, Peter would glance at Miguel and see the way he was smiling and actually laughing along with the rest of them.

Maybe Peter should get “possessed” more often.

[callsign-mimic]

Not gonna lie, it had been a loooong time since I've written any fanfics of any kind. Needless to say, I am beyond rusty lol.

Anyway, here's a fluff fic with Price and Reader.

Threads of Moonlight

Tags: price x reader, GN!Reader, established relationship, pure fluff

Song: Moonlight Serenade - Diana Patton

Inspired by my own spouse lamenting their hair starting to go grey.

It was no surprise to anyone that Captain John Price was under constant stress. As a captain of a specialized task force, he has a lot of weight on his shoulders. You did your best to help him relax, but there was only so much you could do for a man who was actively trying to keep the world from falling apart.

You were currently sitting on the bed, watching him run his fingers through his hair as he stares into the wall mirror with a furrowed brow. He sighs, stressed and exhausted, and joins you on the bed. You wrap your arms around him, planting a soft kiss on his jaw.

"What's on your mind, love?" You ask, enjoying the feeling of him melting into your embrace.

"I'm not even 40 yet and already starting to go grey." He mumbles, his stress showing clearly in his voice. You pull him down until he's laying his head in your lap and start running your fingers through his hair. You can see the strands of silver peeking out through his natural dark brown and chuckle quietly.

"I think it looks good on you, John." You say, your voice soft and soothing. He scoffs at your comment as he continues to pout in your lap and enjoy the feeling of your fingers in his hair. "I'm serious, John. It looks like you have threads of moonlight interwoven into the warm earth of your natural color. It's gorgeous."

John looks up at you, surprised by your poetic compliment. You look down into his eyes adoring and smile. "It's pretty fitting, too." You continue, running your fingers along the curve of his jaw. "Because your eyes are like starlight. Especially when you smile or laugh. I can see the universe in you, love. And you're only getting better with age."

He sits up suddenly and wraps you tightly in his arms, covering your face in kisses until you're giggling and squealing in delight.

It's no surprise to anyone that Captain John Price is under a lot of stress. But, at least with you in his arms, he gets sweet relief and all of the love he deserves.

[pretentious-art-love]

Album Reviews #47 - Disco Volante by Mr. Bungle

Mr. Bungle were always inspired by David Lynch’s style of combining dream-like surrealism with the uncomfortable and the nasty. They had included some samples from Blue Velvet in their self-titled record, and now, they have gone ahead to create a full album of Lynch-inspired oneiric reverie. Disco Volante's music evolves with its own logic; the songs shift from moments of intense and scary other-worldly emotion to completely dissipate into miscellaneous sound collages, and then evolve into more miniature samples of wrecked music.

As with any David Lynch film, the atmosphere in the album can be as thick as it is ordinary. While the music seems dissipated and random in most senses, it is only so in its structure. I have always said that Disco Volante shares many sound similarities with Jeux des Dames Cruelles, an album by the band's first album producer, John Zorn. However, while the music of Jeux des Dames lets itself spill like the paint of a splashed canvas, the music of Disco Volante turns into something at the same time less and more tangible—not the world of smeared paintings, but the world of dreams. There are so many miniatures of music composed in a wonderful tapestry of influences, ranging from Nuevo Tango and Psychedelic Pop to Klezmer, Raga Rock, and Acid Techno. All these miniatures of sounds can be as catchy as they are cinematic. While these moments can be memorable on their own, Disco Volante dissolves instantly into a cacophony of banal musique concrète sounds and field recordings or changes its train of thought to a completely different genre or composition without losing its character. For example, "Phlegmatics" starts with a Thrash Metal section, only to suddenly stop and slowly build up where both guitar and voice seem to be independent of the rest of the song in a beseeching lament while the drums are still on a chase. This way, "Phlegmatics" blends the sensation of yearning and anguish, which you can experience in nightmares or delusions caused by sickness. "The Bends" is composed mostly of an atmospheric piece exuding different ominous melodies per minute around a sci-fi flair. "Violenza Domestica" has momentary bursts of violence around cheap sentimentalism, slowly deteriorating into a creepily possessive song. This is something that many Bungle-inspired bands were unable to understand: Bungle’s eclecticism is more about genre-bending rather than song-swapping. The songs do not change one after the other in the same track, but they can explore wildly different sounds around the same idea while staying cohesive as a single, albeit broken, piece. Even when the jar is broken, it is assembled with the same parts it is composed of, rather than pieces from different jars, and that’s where its genius lies.

The emotions in the record can be as terrifying and revolting as they can be in Lynch’s movies (as, for example, in Blue Velvet itself, with its plot involving kidnappings, sexual slavery, and abuse), but there are brushstrokes of an added emotional palette in this record. It is Mike Patton’s whimsy and the band's knack for jest that give life unique of its own rather than one of a simply Lynch-inspired record. The buffoonery that embodies the record works to make it even more nefarious and depraved. With its banter, Disco Volante transforms what could be a world of pure horror and shock into a complete tapestry of depravity, making it one of the most horrifying albums you could ever hear. It is true that as it stands, this might as well become the less popular of the three mainline Mr. Bungle records, with its average dropping further every year and its overall track ratings barely managing to get a few bolded songs to date, which curiously enough seem to favor the tracks that maintain a proper rhythm instead of the more freeform ones. Still, though, I find it an absolutely incredible record, probably more so than the other two records, considering its attention to detail in creating a cohesive soundscape—a palpable, almost tangible experience in the freeform song, which is something all other Bungle bands have not either managed or focused to create. If you find it way too difficult to properly grasp, my advice would be to start with the tracks that are more freeform and climb your way up, leaving the tracks with more apparent rhythm at the end, to not let your brain get used to their momentum before it is wise. The record as a thematic piece is summarily cohesive, but if the order of its movements disconcerts you more than what it helps you, you can still take advantage that all these are different songs and that they are pieces you can independently digest as you see fit.

As it stands today, Disco Volante is one of those records that might be too difficult for most people, but its experience is undeniably unique and amusing. It's edgy, funny, hilarious, and incredibly vivid and striking. If you are interested in art that accurately represents the world of dreams, I absolutely recommend it to you, not just because of its oneiric quality, but also because it is completely evil and hysterical.

My version thing to do is putting all The Bends sections between each song, this connects the album with a thematically spooky ambience. Moving Nothing after After School Special and putting The Bends ending, Re-Entry, allows the album to end in a gust of noise and loop back to Everyone I Went To High School With Is Dead.

Everyone I Went To High School With Is Dead

Man Overboard

Chemical Marriage

The Drowning Flute

Carry Stress In The Jaw

The Secret Song

Aqua Swing

Desert Search For Techno Allah

Follow The Bubbles

Violenza Domestica

Duet For Guitar And Oxygen Tank

After School Special

Nothing

Phlegmatics

Nerve Damage

Ma Meeshka Mow Skwoz

Screaming Bends

Backstrokin’

Panic In Blue

Platypus

Love In The Event Horizon

Merry Go Bye Bye

Re-entry

8/10

[6-death-spells-9]

The Birthday

———

It’s my birthday, so that inspired me to write this mini fic about Lawrence’s 1st birthday post jigsaw trap.

Enjoy :)

Fic down below

⬇️⬇️⬇️

———

“You’re always at work, Lawrence.” Alison yells, slamming the oven door shut as she takes the perfectly cooked cake out. “You never spend any time with the family! You never bother to take any time off.”

“I’m sorry, Ali.” Lawrence laments. “They need me in.”

“You won’t even stay at your own birthday party! I spent weeks planning this, I invited all your friends, your family from out of state, and you’re just leaving to go to work.” She shouts despite the fact that the guests in the living room would be able to hear them. “Is nothing important enough for you to stay at home?”

~~~

Lawrence wakes to what smells like… burnt food.

Adam must be attempting to cook again, a quick glance to his right confirms this; the still warm but vacant spot beside him.

The curiosity of what Adam’s attempting to make this time, and the yearning he feels to have his partner beside him again is what drives Lawrence to leave the warm comfort of his bed, to attach his prosthetic and make his way into the kitchen.

This is where he finds both Adam and Diana, dropped off by Alison as it’s his weekend to have her, a messy kitchen and a stack of burnt looking pancakes.

Lawrence watches them fondly for the moment. Diana’s standing on top of a stool at the kitchen counter as Adam helps her pour batter into a cake tin and place it into the oven. The air smells sweet with sugar, almost as sweet as the sight before him.

Lawrence’s only able to take in the precious sight for a moment longer, as Adam loads up Lawrence’s lap tray with the plate of pancakes and a fresh cup of coffee, before Diana spots him at the kitchen door.

“Daddy!” She yells at him. “You’re ruining the surprise!”

Lawrence chuckles as he takes a couple of steps into the kitchen, now that he’s been caught, Diana’s becoming more and more like him every day, he's both proud and terrified of it. “Well, good morning to you too.”

Diana groans, wiping her cake batter covered hands onto her pretty pink apron. “You were supposed to stay in bed!”

Adam laughs at the back and forth as he digs around the cutlery drawer for a knife and fork to set onto the tray beside the plated up pancakes. “We were gonna bring you breakfast in bed.” He explains. “For your birthday.”

“Yeah! And I made the pancakes and the birthday cake all by myself.” Diana proclaims loudly.

“Wow, that’s amazing, angel.” Lawrence exclaims, smiling proudly at her. “Did Adam help you?”

“I’ve been demoted to kitchen assistant, Larry.” Adam faux pouts. “I read the ingredients, cooked the pancakes and put the cake in the oven.”

“Still.” Lawrence muses. “It’s an important role.”

A slight blush graces Adam’s cheeks as he picks up the lap tray. “Well, looks like breakfast in bed will have to become breakfast in your chair.”

As he passes Lawrence to take the breakfast into the living room, Adam presses a kiss to Lawrence’s lips. “Happy birthday, Lar.”

“Thank you, love.” Lawrence replies. “Are you coming Di?”

Diana suddenly gasps and shakes her head as he gets down off her stool. “Wait! I gotta get something.”

Lawrence chuckles as she runs off to her bedroom, following Adam into the living room not a moment later and sitting down in his favourite armchair. Adam places the tray into Lawrence’s lap, the pancakes are a little burnt, which explains the smell he’d gotten a whiff of when he’d woken up, but Lawrence appreciates the gesture all the same.

“Sorry if they’re burnt.” Adam shrugs, flustering.

“They’re perfect.” Lawrence says as he takes a bite, and they are perfect; burnt, with too much sugar, but made with love.

It’s then that Diana rushes back into the room, a poorly wrapped gift in hand, it’s clear she’d wrapped the present herself. “I got you this, daddy!”

“Aww, thank you, sweetheart.” Lawrence coos. “I’ll open after breakfast, yeah?”

Diana nods excitedly. “Can I have pancakes now, Adam?”

Adam hums in affirmation. “I’ll make them now.”

Suddenly the chiming of Lawrence's phone goes off, from in the bedroom where he’d left it, it’s a text alert.

“Must be a ‘happy birthday’ message.” Lawrence assumes. “Would you mind getting my phone, love?”

Adam nods and leaves the living room to grab Lawrence’s phone from in the bedroom, he comes back mere moments later with a more serious look on his face.

“It’s work…”

Diana groans. “Just like last year.” She mutters to herself.

Adam passes Lawrence his phone, as expected it’s a text from his boss asking if he’s available to come in today.

As he ponders the text, Lawrence thinks of all he’s missed out on before because of work: birthdays, Christmases and milestones. Constantly disappointing those around him, his daughter, his ex-wife and now… Adam.

As much as Lawrence hates to admit it his stroke with the Jigsaw killer and death has changed him for the better, he no longer wants to be that workaholic he once was, leaving his family behind at the drop of a hat for work, so instead he sends a simple reply back to his boss:

‘Sorry, I’ve got plans today, as I had booked the day off with HR several weeks ago now, you’ll have to find someone else.’

And with that Lawrence drops his phone onto the table, staring up at Adam as he grins back over at him, Diana hopping excitedly out the corner of his eye.

“I guess they’ll just have to find someone else for today.”

[maggiecheungs]

poems in episode one of the story of kunning palace

in episode 1 of kunning palace, xuening grabs a book of poems in order to trick her maids into thinking she keeps a ledger. my knowledge of classical chinese isn't particularly high level, but it's good enough to at least identify which poems are on the page that she opens to, and i'm certain they were deliberately chosen because of their relevance to the characters and themes of the show 👀 so i thought i'd do a post about them :)

this page contains three poems by the tang dynasty poet wang changling (698–756): 芙蓉樓送辛漸 (farewell to xin jian at lotus tower); 閨怨 (boudoir lament); and 春宮曲 (spring palace song). detailed analyses under the cut:

1 - 芙蓉樓送辛漸 (farewell to xin jian at lotus tower):

my translation

poem summary: the poet's friend came to wu on a night when cold rain was pouring into the river, and departs again at dawn. the poet accompanies him on his journey as far as the chu mountains [but cannot carry on journeying with him because he must stay at his official post in wu]. as he bids goodbye, he asks his friend to tell his family back in luoyang that his heart is still pure and resolute.

key themes: loneliness and solitude; duty; having a pure heart and noble character

analysis: this one is a fairly famous poem about parting before setting off on a long journey. it's particularly notable for its final line, 一片冰心在玉壺, which roughly translates to "my heart is as pure as a piece of ice within a vessel of jade"... which could easily have been written as a summary of zhang zhe's character.

however! while there's a definite emphasis on having a pure and guiltless heart, when you combine with the previous line, the couplet as a whole also gives a sense that the speaker wishes to be remembered by those they love as someone pure and righteous ("tell my family back in luoyang that my heart is still pure etc"). this seems to be a theme of xuening's second life: wanting to correct her past wrongs and treat the people she cares for better, and to prove to zhang zhe that she can be a good person in future

in particular, this poem makes me think of xuening's last moments in her first life. the poet's final request before he bids farewell to his friend? for his companion to tell his family that he is still noble at heart. xuening's final request before she dies? for xie wei to take her life in exchange for that of zhang zhe, as her way of repenting for being dishonourable and ruining his life... 🤔🤔🤔

2 - 閨怨 (boudoir lament):

poem summary: the young wife in her boudoir knows nothing of sorrow, but as she completes her toilette and ascends the emerald tower, she suddenly sees the hue of poplars and willows on the roadside and regrets letting her husband leave home to pursue official position and power.

key themes: love and marriage; abandonment; ambition (and the effect that ambition has on love)

analysis: it's essentially about how the husband's ambition causes him to abandon his wife to grief and loneliness, which seems like a clear parallel with xuening's willingness to abandon her faithful lovers for the sake of her ambition; there's also the implication that political status is ultimately less meaningful than a loving marriage.

i think it's worth noting that the character 怨 (yuan) in the title is fairly hard to translate, as it implies a mixture of grief and anger/resentment, or even hatred. it's fairly common in boudoir poems about women left behind by their husbands, and in that context it's often translated as 'lament' or 'grief', but i think the ambivalence of the term is fairly important, particularly if you apply it to kunning palace and the mix of grief and anger that xuening inspires in her old lovers in her first life.

3 - 春宮曲 (spring palace song):

poem summary: the wind is mild, the flowers are in full bloom, the moon is full and bright. the emperor has fallen in love with one of his sister's singing serving women, and is showering her with imperial favour and bestowing brocade robes upon her to keep out the spring chill.

key themes: happiness, success, security. (however, with contextual knowledge, there's also the implication of future doom, and that nobody can stay on top of the world forever)

analysis: i didn't quite catch the full significance of this one until i googled it and realised it's a poem about a real historical figure: wei zifu, a song-and-dance girl serving the princess pingyang, who wins the favour of pingyang’s brother, emperor wu of the han dynasty, eventually becoming his second empress (the second-longest serving empress in chinese history!).

wei zifu's story is essentially about a young woman of humble origins who survives numerous palace intrigues and eventually manages to ascend to the position of empress, trusted by the emperor to the extent that she was allowed to rule in his absence. however, after maintaining her position for over three decades, she eventually fell afoul of a conspiracy against her and her son, and committed suicide rather than allowing herself to be deposed.

i mean… the way this links to jiang xuening's first life is so obvious i don't even feel the need to explain it.