#Wine Bottle Bags for Travel

[jasellamazon]

Our Wine Bottle Bags for Travel is your ultimate travel companion for the wine enthusiast in you. Designed with the avid jetsetter and wine lover in mind, this innovative Wine Travel protector ensures your treasured bottles reach their destination intact and in style. It will help you bring your wines and spirits home safely, with its bubble-wrapped box for added cushioning and its thick, durable vinyl exterior. Crafted with high-quality materials, this bottle protector wrap promises durability and longevity, safeguarding your beloved wines wherever your adventures take you.

[quantum1mmortality]

Rubatosis;

The unsettling awareness of your own heartbeat

•Captain Curly x reader

Chat bare with me I'm trying out a new aesthetic because I'm sick and tired of my blog being UGLY and CHAOTIC so I'm using dividers and sticking to a color scheme for the first time don't judge me pls

Summary; Winter storm, blackout, no heater; the worst things that could've happened on your only weekend off. Luckily, your boyfriend Curly knows how to keep you warm.

Tw/cw; Afab!reader, pre established relationships (you guys are dating), cursing, the word 'radiate" is used like 20 times don't mind that chat, no use of y/n just curly calling you various pet names, no prep like at all(slight fingering????), curly whimpers, the smut is actually really unnecessary but ignore that too, piv, pwp??, unsafe sex, cumming INSIDE!!!, praise kink, curly talks you through it (I think)

Not proofread

You curl up with as many blankets as you can, shivering and watching your breath become visible from the cold. You can feel your body go numb as all you can do is wait for your power to come back on. It's been out for the past hour, and with the awful snow storm that just rolled through your town, you can tell it isn't coming back on anyime soon.

Sounds come from outside your window, sounds that you can barely hear over the cold chattering of your teeth. A car parking in your driveway, a car door opening and closing, and heavy feet making their way to your front door, shaking the doorknob while trying to open it.

The door creeks open, followed by the sound of heavy winds. You can hear footsteps walk into your house, closing the door, and walking towards the bedroom you now reside in.

"Sorry about the wait, love. I tried to leave work as soon as I heard about the power outage, but thought it would be best to stop somewhere to get some things to warm you up." It was your boyfriend, Curly, who you had no idea was coming over. Yet here you are, shaking in a cold bed as he roots through the bags he brought with him.

As he digs through the bags, seemingly looking for something specific, he throws miscellaneous items on your bed. Chocolates, a candle, a box of matches, more chocolates, and a bottle of wine. "Since we're basically trapped in here till the storm is over, I thought we could make the most of it. Have a romantic weekend or something.. I tried getting things I knew you'd like."

Just then, he finds what he was looking for; hand warmers. Ripping open the packaging, he walks to your side of the bed, handing you all that was in the box. The heat radiating from them was almost hurting you, but burning doesn't feel so bad when you're freezing.

Curly leaves the room for a moment, coming back with two wine glasses in hand; placing them on your bedside table. He takes off his work uniform, leaving him in only an undershirt and pants. You hold out your arms to him, signalling that you want him to be in bed with you. He smiles, lifting up the blankets and laying next to you.

You shiver, feeling his warm hands touch your cold body. "Poor thing.. I wish I could've been here sooner, maybe prevent you from getting to this state." He says softly, kissing your forehead as he raps his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest.

"I'm glad you're here.." you say, dozing off. The warmth Curly radiates was more than enough to make your body become less tense. Your hands make their way to his chest, pressing gently as you bury your head in the crook of his neck.

"I know you are, love, and I'm glad to be here, too." He whispered softly, hands traveling from your waist to your hips. He lifts your shirt up slightly, moving his fingertips to your now exposed skin. "Fuck, you're freezing." You could hear the concern in his voice, switching from just his fingertips to his whole hand. "Does that feel better? Are you warmer now?"

You nod. Everything about him was warm, a stark contrast from how cold you currently are. Any part of him that was directly touching you was doing wonders for your current state. "Use your words, love." Even when you're freezing, Curly will still find a way to tease you. This world is so cruel.

You sigh, "yeah, that feels better. Thank you." He smiles, happy with your answer. He pulls your body closer to his, your chest flush against his own. His fingertips move in a circular motion, trying to keep you calm. Which, to his credit, is working.

With the warmth of your beloved boyfriend mixed with the light musk scent of the cologne he always wore, you were falling asleep quickly. He could feel your eyelashes flutter shut against his neck, followed by your soft breathing hitting his skin. He presses a small kiss on your forehead, pulling you just the slightest bit closer to himself before dozing off.

Your eyes slowly open, groaning out as you realize it's still cold in your room. You try to back away, but Curlys grip on you tightens. He shifts slightly as he begins to wake up, hands moving from your waist, to his eyes, to your waist again. "Good morning, beautiful.. lovely seeing you here." He says in a raspy tone, indicating he just woke up.

You smile, curling back into his grasp. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up." You say in an almost hushed voice. He chuckles, placing a small kiss on your cheek.

"No worries, love. Just more time I get to spend with you." He chuckles, burying his head in the crook of your neck; kissing every bit of exposed skin he could in the process. You laugh, squirming in his arms, but his grip on you only tightens.

"Curly- stop-" you get out between giggles.

He lays one final kiss just below your ear, letting out a heavy sigh; now out of breath. He places one of his hands on your chest, just below your collar bone. His fingertips trace up the skin of your neck, stopping to grab your chin, lifting it up slightly.

Your eyes meet with his and he leans in for a kiss. It was soft, gentle, everything he was condensed into a simple act of affection. It was perfect. His hands fully cupping your face, pulling you in so he can deepen the kiss further.

Your hands their way to his scalp, his hair curling between your fingers as you gently pull. His mouth opens for a split second, letting out a small whimper at the new sensation. His kisses become slightly sloppy as he begins to sit up, flipping you so your back is now pressed against the bed. He places himself between your legs, breaking the kiss so he can trail small kisses and nibble down your neck.

As his hands wander down your chest, to your waist, and eventually to your hips, he sings small praises to you in-between each mark he lays on your neck. His fingers go under the seam of your panties, slipping them off of you with ease. With one hand keeping your legs open, the other traces up your inner thigh, slowly inserting one of his digits into your aching heat.

"Curly~" you gasp, your hands locking behind his neck as a way to ground yourself. Just then, he slips another in. The feeling of his cold fingers curling inside of you sent shockwaves through your body.

Curly takes his fingers out of your cunt, lifting his head from your neck to lick off the slick that remains. You whine at the empty feeling, small tears forming already. "Crying already, love?" He says with a smile. He lines his cock to your entrance, the tip prodding at your hole. He lowers his body back down to yours, "forgive me, dear. Sorry if this hurts." He whispers in your ear.

Your hands go back to his neck, going up to grab his hair again. You cry out as you can feel him stretch your insides, pulling at his hair even more in the process. Curly grips the sheets beneath him, his hand quickly moving to your waist to hold both you, and himself down.

As he can feel you reach your limit, he stops, holding still for a moment. "Are you alright? You're not too hurt, are you?" He says, raising his head to look at you.

"Y-yeah.. it just hurts a bit.." you trail off. He sighs in relief.

"I know, love. It's going to. I wish there was more I could do, but I promise it'll be worth it. Alright?" He smiles, kissing away the small tear lines on your cheeks. You smile back, coming your fingers through his hair gently before moving your hands to rest on his back instead.

He takes a deep breath, slowly moving his hips backwards before meeting with yours again. His steady thrusts help you adjust to his size better, but it only leaves you wanting more.

"I'm gonna go faster, alright?" He says, nearly out of breath. You nod. He increases his speed, going faster than you had anticipated. You cry out his name, digging your nails into the skin on his back. "I know, love, I know." He whispered.

More tears stream down your face as the pain quickly turns into pleasure. You moan with each thrust, nails still digging into his back. Curly whimpers at the feeling, "fuck- just like that, you're doing amazing, love~" he says in a soft, out of breath tone.

You can feel yourself getting closer as your legs instinctively close around his hips, inadvertently pushing him deeper inside you. You try to speak, but the words just won't come out. "Curly- I-" you stutter, not being able to think straight because of the pleasure.

His pace doesn't falter, though. His hands move to your thighs, holding onto them with force in an attempt to not go any rougher than he already is. Your cries and moans become louder, chanting his name as if it were a prayer. You feel the knot in your stomach come undone, your back arching and head thrown back. With one final moan, you can feel a wave of pleasure wash over you, followed by your slick soiling the sheets beneath you.

"Just a little longer, love. You've done so well for me this far, I'm sure you can hold out a bit more." Curly praised, continuing his pace. His hands grip your thighs tighter, leaving crescent shaped marks on your flesh. With one more deep, rough thrust, he moans out your name, releasing inside of you. He collapses on top of you, his head resting on your shoulder as you both try to catch your breath.

"Are you.. still cold?" He whispered softly.

You smile, "no. Not at all."

A/N; this would've been out two days ago but the new stardew valley update came to console and I've been GRINDING that shit. Also, the title was supposed to make an appearance in the fic. Right before the smut starts, when curly puts his hand on YOUR 🫵 chest, I was gonna add some dialogue like, "your heart is beating fast.. do I make you nervous?" But I thought that was cringe and cut it out.

[basketonthedoorstepofthefbi]

"dressing up" - hotch x fem!reader

you and aaron get ready for a party at rossi's

cw: mentions of food and alcohol! preestablished relationship! besides that... none? enjoyy

1620 words

---------------

Another soirée at Rossi’s - red wine flowing liberally from vintage bottles, unless, of course, he’s serving acqua puzza. There will be talk of work, as always, but it will shift once Penelope smacks both palms on the table and demands a change of subject. You’re betting she'll make it thirty minutes, especially after last time, when Spencer rattled on about the particular species of earthworm he saw in a corpse. 

Rossi always demands that everyone dress nicely, too - it’s a dinner party, after all, he often says with that leisurely shrug of his shoulders. That’s why you haul ass after work to your favorite upscale boutique. You need a new dress - you wore your red one to the last two Rossi parties, and though they were roughly a month apart, you still feel guilty of being an outfit repeater. Plus, there’s nothing wrong with buying a new dress, especially if it gives you that New Outfit Self-Confidence. 

Unfortunately, though, your shopping trip after work, plus the crowd on the Metro, means that you’re running dangerously behind by the time you reach home. 

You flurry in like a tornado, kicking off your sensible work flats and haphazardly tossing everything in your hands, with the exception of your shopping bag, onto the couch on your way to the bedroom. You hear your stainless steel water bottle fall off the couch and onto the hardwood with an obnoxious clunk, and grimace as you fly into the bedroom. 

Your boyfriend sits on the cedar hope chest at the end of the bed. He’s bent at the waist, tying his shoes. “I was just about to call you,” he says by way of greeting, looking up and sideways at you as he hunches over to loop the black laces of his loafers. “You’re running a little late, honey.” 

“Thanks, Aaron, that’s super helpful,” you spew sarcastically, setting the boutique bag on the bed. Unceremoniously, you tug your dress pants down over your tummy and your hips, then step out of them, kicking them to the side. Aaron’s on them in an instant, like a cat with one of those laser pointers, scooping them up off the floor and tossing them into the laundry hamper in the corner. 

“We have to be there at seven-thirty,” Aaron reminds you, crossing his arms over his chest. For most people, that’s a sign of displeasure. This is just Aaron’s default stance, though, and you can tell he isn’t annoyed. He’s just anxious about being tardy. 

“Baby, I know,” you snap. You love that he’s always punctual - five minutes early is already ten minutes late, he always says. Generally, you can abide by that rule. The cards are just not in your favor today. 

Aaron’s palms are held up as a white flag. “Sorry,” he says, then looks around the room dumbly. “Is there anything I can do to help?” 

You’re sliding the new dress on - luckily, you already had your shapewear on for your work clothes, so changing is no big deal. The dress is a lovely forest green, with golden flowers, embroidered as if they’re growing up from the bottom hem of the skirt. You smooth your hands over the bodice, and finally meet Aaron’s eyes. 

The sunset is leaking in through the blinds, catching his profile and gilding his irises. You could swim in those deep pools for hours, searching for treasure. Your annoyance has dissipated completely after one look at him. “Can you cut the tags off?” you ask him, your voice a low whisper. 

Aaron’s gliding into the en suite, to your vanity, in an instant, a testament to how whipped you have him. He’s searching for your manicure scissors, and his back is turned to you. His suit is black, different from the gray one he wore to work today. This one is just slightly more fitted, and your eyes travel shamelessly over his rear, admiring, with a dropped jaw, just how sculpted it really is, a testament to how whipped he has you. 

You lift your arm when he returns, watching his eyes as he delicately snips the tags off the armpit part of your dress. He’s so careful, like he’s performing brain surgery, and you want to tease him for it. But there’s no time.

When Aaron’s moving back to the en suite to throw the tags away and put your scissors back in their place, you have to force your feet to shuffle over to the closet. You select a semi-comfortable pair of black heels. They don’t perfectly match your dress, but you typically end up taking your shoes off after dinner, anyway. 

Aaron’s watching from the bathroom doorway as you snap on your heels. His ever-observant eyes follow you as you step past him into the bathroom. You run the comb through your hair, and touch up your makeup quickly, carefully applying a winged eyeliner and lipgloss to elevate your look efficiently. Aaron’s eyes meet yours in the mirror, and you look back at him over your shoulder, scrunching your nose playfully.

When you’re done in the bathroom, you float over to your dresser to select a pair of earrings from the jewelry box Aaron got you for your birthday. Gold hoops soon adorn your ears, and you pull a golden chain necklace from the jewelry box, complete with a charm in the middle that looks like a knot. 

You take the necklace over to Aaron, and without saying anything, you stand before him, back turned. He gathers your hair in one hand and sweeps it aside. “Hold this for me,” he murmurs concentratedly, and you reach your hand up to hold your hair out of the way for him. 

The need to rush out the door has suddenly vanished into thin air. 

Aaron’s breath is warm on the back of your neck. You feel goosebumps appear up and down your arms as he brings the necklace around. His fingers are ginormous, so you hear him fumble a little with the tiny clasp, but he finally snaps it in place. His thumb and forefinger trail along the chain to bring the knot charm to the front, so it rests in the center of your collarbone. 

You release your hair, and as it falls, ticklish against the back of your neck, Aaron steps around in front of you. A small smile twitches from his lips and you feel your knees wobble a little beneath you. Why does he have to look at you like that? You’re supposed to be in a hurry. “You look like Christmas,” Aaron says quietly, like maybe he didn’t mean to voice the thought, like maybe it just slipped out. 

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” You laugh breathily, feeling your cheeks go pink. 

“It’s a very good thing,” Aaron assures you. His fingers close around your wrist, and he’s tugging you in for a hug. You wind your arms around his neck just as his find your waist. He’s crushing you to him, constricting you in the best way possible. 

“I thought we were in a hurry?” You ask, pressing your glossy lips against the column of his throat a couple of times. Your kisses are viscous because of the lipgloss, and you know you’ll have to wipe it off his neck, but for now, you don’t really care. This is the first moment you’ve had with Aaron since waking up next to him this morning.

You inhale, your nose nudging against his neck. He smells like an idyllic autumn lake - pine, rainfall, leaves. 

Aaron’s grip around you tightens a little more, and you feel his nose nuzzling into your hair. “We can be a couple minutes late.” 

He’s not wearing a tie, you realize, as you pull away from the embrace. Your palms lay flat on his chest, straightening the collar of his white dress shirt beneath the black jacket. The top two buttons are undone, revealing the smallest bit of chest hair. You quirk your brow up when you meet his eye. “No tie?” 

Aaron shakes his head. “No tie,” he confirms. “Going for laid-back, super casual.” 

“That lines up with your personality,” you snicker, licking your thumb and using it to wipe the lipgloss off his neck. 

“Do I look like Magnum, P.I?” He asks as you step back. He straightens his jacket. 

You burst out laughing. “Absolutely not,” you giggle, and Aaron rolls his eyes. “You’re not wearing a Hawaiian shirt, nor do you have a mustache,” you remind him, taking his hand. His fingers trail along your palm before twining with yours. 

“I could grow a mustache,” he proffers, his lips a straight line, the closest thing he does to pouting. 

You lead Aaron out into the living room, shaking your head and laughing. “No, baby, you look like James Bond,” you tell him, letting go of his hand and reaching over the back of the couch to grab your purse. You sling it over your shoulder. 

You catch Aaron looking at himself in the ornamental mirror on the wall and smirk. “I think I like that better than Magnum, P.I,” he muses. 

“It is better than Magnum, P.I,” you shrug, heading for the door. You feel Aaron’s hands on your hips from behind just as you reach for the doorknob. He squeezes your hips and kisses the back of your neck. “Aaron,” you whine a little, just as Aaron guides you to the side for the sole purpose of being able to open the door for you. 

“Come on, honey,” he teases, facing you in the open doorway and tugging your hand. “Rossi’ll be mad if he has to wait on us to serve appetizers.”

Edit: read "dressing down" here

[ew-selfish-art]

My brain is unwilling to let go of Twin AU prompts. Sorry for the long post lmao.

Jazz and Jason are getting pretty serious in their relationship, and honestly, they’ve both been hesitant to introduce their family members to one another despite constantly talking about them. They’ve been dating since she started her doctoral studies at Gotham U and she’s about to defend her dissertation, so it really is about time. He saved her in her first week as the Red Hood and he immediately felt at home with her (something, something liminal), she runs into him the next day at a coffee shop and thanks him for taking the time to help her. 

Identities are obviously blown. Jason knows that her brother works in ‘politics’ and her younger sister is a travel blogger, and that the three of them don’t talk to her mad scientist parents anymore. Jazz knows that he came back from the dead, his adoptive family had a slew of issues in addition to their hero-complexes and that he would be prepared to kill for any one of his siblings. Their communication skills are top notch. 

But then came the issue of actually meeting the family. Like Jazz knows all of the drama between the siblings but could not pick them out of a line up, or more importantly, know who to talk to if an emergency situation came up. Jason agrees, that yeah, it would probably be for the best if he could at least identify her little brother and sister if they had to like, meet at hospital or something. 

So that was the plan. Invite just siblings over to their shared apartment, no parents and no fuss. (She even called Danny ahead of time to tell him not to portal straight into the apartment, he needed to walk in the door like a normal person. They could share Ghost King secrets later.) 

Tim arrives first, he’d been working a case nearby and Jazz & Jason live pretty close to a nice coffeeshop, so he stopped along the way. He’d done some creeping to figure out that she drinks Chai so he brought one for her. Creepy and yet, endearing. 

Ellie comes in second from the window, launching into a story about how annoying it was to find the place with all the gloom, didn’t this city have any respect for the dead? Tim doesn’t get it but Jason is laughing along so Tim files it away for later. 

Dick comes in with a shit ton of Pizza he panic ordered, a fruit bouquet and two bottles of wine from Bruce’s cellar. Duke came along with him, a large tupperware of Alfred’s cookies. 

Then Steph, Babs and Cass show up, immediately treating Jazz like family while also being hella suspicious about the whole thing. She notices them looking at her hands and Jazz explains that no, they weren’t doing this because Jason proposed. Steph and Cass are annoyed at Jason but tell Jazz she could do better if she wanted. Babs is happy they aren’t rushing into anything (she’s the only one besides Tim that knows how long they’ve been dating- this is just to throw out a red herring for the others)

Everyone is getting along and having a great time, Ellie being a natural entertainer along side Dick, everyone trying to tell embarrassing stories about Jason. Loud noises are coming from the hallway when they realize that neither Damian nor Danny had arrived. 

Rushing out the door, the boys are alternating putting each other into choke holds and arguing about not being clones. Danny keeps phasing out of Damian’s grip and Damian keeps pulling out more knives. The hallway looks like it had been blown up and the two are continuing to yell at one another about going to a family dinner. Jason and Jazz just stare at them from the doorway, and wouldn’t you know it, they look like fucking twins. 

Jazz grabs Danny, Jason grabs Damian, and everyone is fucking confused. Both sides of the family can confirm growing up with the twins, that neither are a clone. Ellie helpfully supplies that she’s the clone and that opens a whole other bag of chaos. 

Eventually they get everyone to sit down for dinner and the night gets weirder from there. 

[some-bunniii]

Lucifer jealous with an artist!reader

・❥ You’re invited to a prestigious art show to impress Hell’s royalty with your skills, but someone isn’t a fan of all the attention on you.

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 |

x: reader is g/n, no use of y/n.

~ 10.1k words

warnings: SMUT!! Adult themes!

Being in a relationship with the King of Hell has its perks. Such as being able to skip any line at LuLu World, or not needing to make reservations months in advance to the most high-end restaurant in Pentagram City. And, of course, being able to buy anything in the entirety of Hell in the snap of a finger, or, make it, if your man is feeling extra creative that day.

The neatest one? Being able to jump across the Seven Rings of Hell. Sinners are usually confined to the Pride Ring for the entirety of their afterlife, anyone who attempts to leave would get obliterated by the magical security system that detects ring-hoppers. You had never seen it work in person, but the stories made it sound excruciatingly painful. But, no one had ever survived getting vaporized to be able to tell of their experience, so, you weren’t sure whether that was true or not.

These thoughts were plaguing your mind as you sat comfortably in the back of a clean, white limo. Its tinted windows, gold rims, and apple hood ornament screamed ‘Hell’s royalty’ as some onlookers gave the pimped-out vehicle a double-take as it rolled through traffic.

You had tried to argue against taking the conspicuous mode of transportation, opting for the lift that was commonly used by demons to travel across the rings. You most likely wouldn’t attract any unwanted attention or suspicion, since you looked like an average, everyday demon residing in Hell.

“Hop in an elevator with Heaven knows what kind of creepy people you’ll be pushed up against? Not going to happen,” Lucifer shook his head sternly at the idea, “I’m not risking your safety just because 

You had held your tongue after that, realizing you weren’t going to win when it came to Lucifer’s protectiveness of your wellbeing. Besides, the limo looked nice as it waited patiently outside of the hotel a few hours after the big breakfast you had shared with the residents of the hotel.

The inside was nice too, the red, leather seats so plush you were practically sinking into the furniture as you sipped on an alcoholic beverage. There was a minibar nestled between some cushions across from you, bottles of expensive red wine secured on racks next to clean, empty drinking glasses. 

A large stereo sat at the back of the limo, with tall speakers that flickered with an array of colors waiting idly for your touch. A small TV hung from the car’s ceiling, and you flicked through the channels mindlessly as you held your phone to one ear.

“Just let the driver do his thing, you’ll barely feel the portal before poof! You’re in the Greed Ring.” Lucifer assured over the phone as the white limo sped towards the edge of the ring. 

“And I won’t get turned to goo or anything?” 

“Not on my watch!” He spoke confidently. You could hear faint voices in the background, which meant he must still be at the hotel. “Trust me, love, you’ll be fine. But, maybeee you wouldn’t be so nervous if you had someone with you like… the King of Hell?” 

Rolling your eyes, you snorted quietly trying to hold in a laugh. Lucifer had been bugging you all day about barring him from joining you, but you steeled yourself against his begging, some plans, and preparations needed to be done as soon as you got to Greed. Having Lucifer along would no doubt distract you, especially with the sultry gazes he’d been throwing at you quite often lately, and you needed to get your game on for tonight.

“I told you, I’ve got dinner plans with some of the other artists, and there's work to be done at the venue. Tonight is very important, I can’t mess anything up.”

“I know, I know. Don’t worry, you’ve got this in the bag, baby.”

Heat crept to your cheeks at his compliment, and you smiled out the windows of the limo, your eyes following the winding road toward a large tunnel in the distance. Was that the portal entrance? It was the only thing out here in this barren part of the ring, and it was only growing closer in view as the limo sped on.

Soon, you’d be in Greed, one more step towards the big art show tonight. Your mind drifted back to the matters at hand, your nerves intensifying as you sat deep in thought.

Tonight, was the annual art fair and exhibition, ‘Elysium in Hell’. A famous, grandeur display of well-known and talented artists coming together to sell and showcase their pieces. Their skills with the brush and oils would also be compared fiercely, judged by the leading in the practice that usually dictated how well an artist’s pieces sell during the night.

When hosting the most wealthy and powerful beings in Hell, one had to know whether someone’s creations were truly worth the large price tag. 

It had only ever been a dream, for you to even attend a gathering of such nobility. This was the kind of place you’d find the Seven Deadly Sins, like Lucifer, were strolling around places like these for fun. When to you, and other artists, it was the opportunity of a lifetime to make your passion a really good career. As in, spending the rest of your days lounging in your villa’s pool, finding your painting inspiration by looking out into the expanse of the ‘this view cost me a lot of goddamn money’ scenery. 

It was a chance to put your work out there, farther than the hotel, farther than Asmodeus’ club. Maybe, into a Goetia’s office, or a Sin’s bedroom! That was the dream, to have people appreciate and feast on your craft, while also making really good money from it.

It must have been Asmodeus who got your name on the list since he really seemed to enjoy your more explicit paintings. Lucifer also could have used his influence too, but you hoped that wasn't the case. You wanted your success to be based on your effort, not someone’s pretty words.

Would Lucifer even do that? After all, it was he who was more inclined to keep your relationship a secret. At least, secret to everyone outside of the hotel. It was hard to keep a secret from them, especially when the manager of the place was the man-you-were-courting’s daughter. 

It was something about the press down here being very brutal, and the fact you’d be in the public eye and under its scrutiny constantly. Unless, you become a shut-in hermit for the rest of your life, and while you enjoy the solitude, you don’t how long you could be stuck inside before growing depressed. Even a castle got boring after a while.

But the big problem, was you’d be a target instantly when it came to Heaven’s exterminations. You were a Sinner, and your life was at risk every time those gaping, golden portals opened to swallow the sky, and their blood-thirsty valkyries that would flood the streets with weapons made of holy light.

There was no doubt they would do whatever was necessary to destroy any kind of stability within Hell, and even direct attacks toward Lucifer and those he holds dear. Charlie? Well, she was Hellborn, safe from Heaven’s wrath unless they fancied all-out war. 

But, you? The exterminations were created to kill you, an agreement between Heaven and Hell’s King to quell the uprisings, to keep their control over all realms in Creation. Lucifer never had a reason to care about the population of Sinners inside his ring, until you arrived, with that soft smile and overflowing head of ideas.

If Heaven wanted your head, they would surely have it, if they dared to incur Lucifer’s wrath. He couldn't protect you from everything, no matter how many times he assured you. He wasn't the most powerful being in existence, there were those much greater. 

Was there more to it, though? Was it some kind of political reason because someone of the lower class could never be seen as one of the heads of the royal family, therefore the entirety of Hell as well? Would there be an uprising among the nobility, who couldn’t fathom someone without influence or power to have command over them?

So, for now, you’d spoil your king with kisses and soft words away from prying eyes. In the comfort of your room, surrounded by fond memories and heated exchanges of passion. Breakfast in bed, lounging the day away on your balcony, staring towards the city. 

Sometimes, Lucifer would enthrall you with tales from past interactions with other royalty, mainly the other Sins. He’d impersonate each, his voice almost perfectly mimicking their tones and speech patterns as he recounted stories that made you laugh so hard you almost tilted over the railing once.

Lucifer had spilled his wine trying to catch you as you leaned a little too far backward over the metal edge, his hands gripping your forearms as you adjusted for balance.

“This,” he had said with a breathless laugh as you stumbled into him, before the fallen angel wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you flush, “is why I can’t take my eyes off you anymore. There’s always a mortally wounding drop that you can’t seem to stay away from!”

You only giggled in response, your buzz making it impossible for you to give your lover a straight face as he tried to frown sternly at your reaction, only failing miserably when you lost balance again from the laughs that began to shake your figure. 

Lucifer began to lift you upright once more, a soft laugh escaping his lips as you only sent him a lopsided grin, leaning closer to him. It wasn't until his gaze lowered and he caught the tipped wine glass that had rolled against the leg of a chair, did the fallen angel deflated slightly.

“Look, you even made me spill my drink..” He whined, his eyes sullenly tracing the small river of red liquid that cascaded over the table’s edge.

You captured Lucifer’s lips in a sloppy kiss, your teeth grazing against his skin as you hummed an apology between trailing kisses. The King only melted into your hold as you filled him with sweet like ‘My silly duck’ and ‘The most handsome angel’. 

Your hands lifted to cup his cheeks, before breaking the kiss and sending him a loving smile. You squished his cheeks softly, and Lucifer only melted in your hand, nuzzling his cheek against your palm.

“Well, at least I’ll get some kind of buzz from the taste of your lips,” he sighed happily against your palm, flashing those pretty bedroom eyes at you as his claw slid beneath your undergarment, grazing against warm, bare flesh that caused you to shiver underneath his touch. 

Lacing your fingers with his, you sent him a sultry smile as you tugged him towards the open balcony doors, soft light basking the entrance to your room with light red hues as you crossed the threshold. 

Lucifer growled softly, his pupils dilating as he lifted a hand to begin unbuttoning his shirt, following you obediently into the darkness. The balcony doors shut behind him with invisible force, and wisps of golden light snaked out of the keyhole, before being blown away like dust. 

You smiled at the thoughts, your heart fluttering as those feelings bubbled up underneath your heated skin. This was the first time you had been away from him for a while, and it did feel much lonelier without his vibrant aurora that only filled your soul with warmth. 

Soon, you’d be back in his soothing embrace. But first, there was work and an audience to woo.

You had told him he could come later tonight after the show started, which had made him beam with happiness and promise to be there in support of you.

Would he appear as his common imp disguise? A Goetia? Would you even be able to tell it was him without those shades on his face? It seemed like you’d be playing I Spy later tonight.

“—will be there?”

You blinked, shaking your head to pull yourself back into reality. 

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I said, do you think any of these famous painters you studied all your life will be there? I mean, they couldn't have all been virtuous and sinless, right? I’m sure that one guy that cut his ear off wasn't stable enough to make it through the pearly gates.”

“Huh... I don't know, I never thought about that before.” You laughed, your eyes still on the tunnel that was now only a mile away, before Lucifer could start on another subject, you quickly broke the silence, “I’m about to go through the portal, I think. I’ve gotta go, but I’ll see you later tonight.” 

“Oh, okay! Listen, don’t worry, it’ll feel like passing through any normal earthly tunnel… probably. I can't wait to see you, and hopefully, in that delicious outfit you bought earlier,” he teased.

“If the King commands it of me,” you replied with a honeyed tone, your words “but, he’ll have to be patient, can the mighty Lucifer Morningstar resist such taking a bite from the apple?”

“No matter how tempting, I’ll just wait until I can ravish it in its entirety later,” the soft growl in his voice made your breath hitch slightly, your cheeks heating at the thought of what ‘later’ would entail.

“We’ll see,” you whispered, before pulling the phone from your ear and ending the call. You felt giddy in your seat, that heat slowly ebbing from your skin as the tunnel loomed ahead. You grabbed the wine rack next to you for support as large shadows swept across the limo’s interior as it disappeared into the darkened path.

Lucifer was right, it had honestly felt just like you had driven through a regular old tunnel, if not for the tingling at the back of your neck and the feeling of weightlessness for only a moment as the limo’s tires hit solid ground once more.

Then, green skies cast emerald hues along the seats as you peeked out the window, excitement bubbling in you. You were in another ring for crying out loud! This was a first, and other than pictures, you had no idea what 

It wasn’t until your eyes adjusted to the change in hues, did the anticipation died immediately and a frown graced your features.

Greed looked… kind of ugly. Thick, green smog powered from large towards that dotted across the barren expanse. Large industrial buildings nestled between them, most likely some kind of plant or factory.

Rivers of sludge flowed from each facility into a large, concrete-lined lake. There was no doubt it smelled rancid out there, and your nose crinkled at the thought.

The large city that the limo was heading to was the least soaring to the eyes, its towering corporate buildings filled the sky. Flashing multicolored lights emanated from the middle of the sea of buildings, most likely party central of the capital.

As the vehicle rolled down the street, stopping at the streetlight, you were aware of the eyes that were trying to get a glimpse through the tinted windows. Some demons even pulled out their phones, snapping a quick picture of the pristine, white paint that shimmered underneath the street lamps. 

They probably thought it was someone important, like Lucifer, maybe even Charlie. Thankfully, discrete locations where you’d be dropped off and picked up had already been decided. Hopefully, you won’t have any run-ins with the paparazzi or anything crazy. 

You checked the time on the TV, you were just in time for check-in at the hotel you were booked at. It had been provided by the organization behind the large event, and you weren’t sure what to expect. 

As the limo pulled alongside a back street, you spotted an elevator a few feet from the curb. Taking another sip of your drink, you gathered your things and opened the large passenger door.

Stepping over the gap, you hoisted everything onto the sidewalk, fiddling with a few loose items before turning towards the long vehicle, shutting the passenger door, and leaning over to the driver’s side window.

“Thank you, Jeremy.” You called to the driver, a short imp with a bushy, white mustache. He only nodded at you through the shaded glass, before the limo began to pull away from the curb.

You turned towards the elevator doors, before taking a deep breath and stepping forward

After a few hours lounging around in your hotel room, the rest of your day was filled with preparations. 

You spent the early hours at a very fancy restaurant, surrounded by other artists. They all looked Hellborn, although you were sure you couldn’t have been the only one who got granted access from Pride. 

They all seemed relatively cheerful, sharing stories and techniques of their careers. You even shared some of your art with a couple of nice women that you were seated next to, the one that hung up at Ozzie’s. 

“I saw those the other day! That was you? You are such a great artist!” One gushed, while the other two nodded their head in silent agreement.

“That’s really kind of you, but, I’m not that good,” you brushed off her compliment, hoping to change the subject to someone other than you. You refrained from telling them where you worked, or anything about you, really. They may be kind to you, but in Hell, that didn't mean their motives were pure.

The tension in the air was a little thicker than you would have preferred to, but some of your “competitors” came from nothing, and would go home to nothing, if they weren’t able to make a large enough income after tonight.

Arriving not too long after at the large building that would host the show only heightened your anxiety, as your eyes bounced from booth to booth that was being set up with paintings, pottery, and other mediums.

The interior looked like a giant convention center, the walls a blank white with gold trim, a perfect backdrop for the splash of color that was beginning to take shape across the multiple displays.

The booths looked like large cubicles, with tall partition walls separating each artist’s collection. Only the front, which one would be able to walk into the little square to observe the different pieces, was wallless. As you moved to your spot, you turned your head to catch a glimpse at the surrounding work.

Every piece that caught your gaze looked so amazing, and that only made doubt creep farther into your mind at how good you fared against some of these big names. 

Most of the work was reminiscent of what you had done previously, back when you worked for Alexandre at his studio. Scenes of steamy interactions between two—sometimes up to five—lovers, angel exterminators with their chests gouged out, and landscapes of different locations across Hell.

You had expected it, and all of the pieces that you had brought with were from before your time at the hotel, or were painted with such thoughts in mind. The demons that had wallets to empty weren’t looking for cute scenes of bunnies and fawns, or angels in a good light, for that matter. 

You worked tirelessly, placing your canvases against the walls, creating price tags, and trying to finish everything before the event officially started. You were making good time, and your worry was pushed to the back of your mind as you kept busy.

Which made you lift your head from your work, your eyes scanning the small crowd of workers and artists that bustled about. Some ran across the large, white marble floor as they shouted commands to the helpers. 

Was he one of the imps who was helping set up the booths? You had no idea what he looked like in his disguise since he had altered it so only you could see through the lie. There was no familiar yellow gaze or rosy cheek spots that you could pick up from the mass.

He was either not here or was hiding from you. Your gaze flicked up the large clock, one more hour. You turned back to the task at hand, heart racing, and mind wandering as your hands lowered to another small canvas.

“Alright, people! We’re opening the doors, let's get this party started!” A voice rose above the chatter, signaling the beginning of the event. You lifted your head, it was starting already? Time really flew by. 

Demons rushed past your display, running to their own assigned section with renewed vigor as loud footsteps echoed from the front of the building. Looking down, you tidied your outfit, the one Lucifer had mentioned earlier.

You had bought it weeks ago, but only revealed it to him right before you left. In your eyes, it wasn’t much different than what you normally do, except that it was much more formal and eye-catching. And, red. Apple red.

You definitely didn't expect Lucifer to react when his pupils turned to slits when you gave him a peak, or how he subtly wet his lips from beside you, his gaze traveling up your figure as he seemed to be picturing you in it.

Patrons began to fill the floor, the large growing louder as demons filed in, their eyes glinting with interest and excitement. Bird heads poked out from the crowd, the Goetia’s tall frames towering above most of the other attendees. They were definitely dressed like nobility, in dazzling robes that brushed against the tile as they moved with grace from booth to booth. 

Their talons clicked rhythmically against the tile as they glided past your figure, their eyes landing on the portraits behind you were curious as some stopped before you.

Apart from the Seven Deadly Sins, they were directly beneath the Morningstar family, and were Lucifer’s most loyal followers. Did they miss their King’s presence in his absence? You figured most of them had yet to run into the fallen angel, even with his face slowly appearing across the realm. 

Smiling widely, you greeted a few of them, stepping aside so they could take a closer look at your pieces. They slid past you, and your eyes landed back onto the crowd, scanning for anyone who resembled Lucifer, to no avail. Where was he?

“I like this one,” one of the Goetia spoke softly to her lover, pointing at an oil canvas depicting your idea of the River of Styx, the famous trail of water from Greek mythology that flowed into the underworld.

A little girl sat at the edge of the dark water as it flowed past, as if she was looking into the depths with longing. Her hand was outstretched, reaching towards the writing forms of grey, ghostly bodies that peeked from below the water’s surface. They held their arms out to her, begging for help, or perhaps for her to join them. 

The girl was looking at a specific being underneath the surface, a mirrored image of her small figure, their face contorted in agony as it met her gaze. Tears pooled from the little girl's eyes as she stared at herself, one hand to her mouth in grief as she reached tenderly towards the sicky grey image that represented her inevitable fate.

The two birds stared at the price tag beneath the canvas, before their eyes met and the shorter male Goetia turned to you with a stack of cash in his hand. You practically bounced on your toes with happiness as you took the money with a bow of your head.

“Thank you! Please return later and someone will help you carry it out!” You waved farewell as they left, their gaze already locked onto some pottery sitting on display a few displays away. 

This continued few another hour, a repetition of demons moving in and out of your booth to fawn over your different pieces. Some would occasionally pull out their wallet to purchase from you,  while they complimented your craftmanship.

Even with everything going on around you, and answering any questions that were thrown your way, your eyes still kept gravitating to the bustling crowd. Your mind still sifting through every figure looking for any resemblance to Lucifer. He would have revealed himself to you by now, wouldn’t he?

He didn’t forget or anything… right?

After waving goodbye to another customer, you turned to see a red-headed demon sneaking past some patrons, before she reached your booth entrance, knocking softly on the thin walls. You turned, raising an eyebrow as she timidly stared up at you.

“Hi! I’m Anna… from the restaurant earlier. Do you remember me?”

You recognized her after a moment, and a smile bloomed on your lips. She was a quiet girl, her figure resembled that of a porcelain doll, her features painted onto the smooth surface that mimicked her skin. 

Anna had sat diagonal from your chair at the restaurant, barely making a peep, but her eyes had followed your conversation with interest. You hadn't tried to speak to her, afraid she’d crack from the attention. She seemed fine around the large crowd now, though.

“Yes, that’s right. Hello, how can I help you?”

“I was just wondering if you had any extra ‘Thank You’ stickers that I could have? I’m going running pretty low.” 

“Selling out quick, huh?”

“Ha-ha, sort of. My ceramics are pretty cheap though, definitely not close in value to something like your work.”

Heat crept onto your cheeks, and you smiled bashfully. Your skills were surely not that advanced to receive all this praise, it wasn't like you were some kind of prodigy back on Earth to deserve such kind words.

“Please, I’m sure your skills are equally matched. And, of course, let me go grab some for you!”

Turning, you reached into a box nestled against the wall a few feet away from you. You pulled out a small plastic bag full of smiley face stickers, before turning to face the young girl once more.

“Here, this should be enough, but if you need more you can always come back–”

Your sentence was interrupted when gasps erupted across the attendees, their eyes beelining to the front of the building. Even other artists and servants were getting a peek at the commotion as a crowd gathered at the main entrance.

Anna leaned outside of your display, her eyes squinted trying to get a look at what was going on. You stood next to her, straining your ears to catch any words from the whispers emanating from the onlookers.

‘Someone’s here.’

‘Could it be…?’

“Oh my Satan… it’s��!’

“Your Majesty!” A voice boomed above the crowd from a tall demon in a blue tuxedo squeezing through the guests, his little management pin sparkling gold as he moved to greet the newest arrival.

You tensed immediately, frozen in place, mouth agape, while Anna only became giddy beside you.

“Did you hear him?! I think the King is here!” She bounced excitedly beside you. 

“The King..?” You whispered in disbelief. 

“Y’know, Lucifer Morningstar? You’ve seen his royal portrait, haven’t you?”

‘Oh, I've seen much more than that,’ you wanted to reply.

Anna quickly scampered off, intent on getting a closer look at the grandiose figure as she moved through the murmuring nobles.

You could see his hat bobbing behind the much taller figures as he moved with grace, the hint of his white overcoat, and the red glint from the apple on top of his cane.

“Yep, it’s me! Your devilishly handsome King, come take a closer look if you don't believe me—woah there, not that close! Personal space still exists, thanks.” 

You watched the top of his white hat move amongst the bodies of gawking demons, as they parted to let him stroll through.

It wasn’t until he came into view, with that all-too-familiar charming smirk that made your knees wobble. With those soft curls that framed his face that shimmered like the sun, making your heart flutter.

His yellow gaze scanned the crowd, but he wasn’t able to take a very long look before the blue-suited demon approached closer, bowing low before he cleared his throat.

“It is truly an honor to be in your presence once again, Your Majesty.”

“Of course it is,” Lucifer replied nonchalantly, straightening his posture.

“We didn’t expect to see you here tonight! It’s been a long time since our gracious ruler has been to our event… but nobody had any problem with that!” The demon quickly interjected, laughing nervously as he pulled on his collar. 

“Yes, well, I've been very busy these past few years. Doing… important things, of course!” Lucifer nodded quickly, chuckling lightly as he spoke loudly, “So, I thought I’d drop by and take a look around!”

“What a wonderful idea!” The event coordinator clasped his hands together, before beckoning the fallen angel to walk along, “If you’ll please follow me, Your Highness, I can take you through everything we have to offer.”

Lucifer followed behind the man, all eyes on the floor tracking his every movement. Most lowered their heads in respect as he passed, the Goetia’s in attendance much more enthusiastic about it.

Quickly, you backpedal into your booth, your head whipping across the walls for any imperfections in your setup as your mind raced.

What was he doing here, as himself?! Why didn’t he tell you before, and what was his plan?

When Lucifer arrived at the first artist down the long line of make-shift walls, you could barely hear their conversations now that they’d stopped yelling so loudly

The artists bowed, their hands rubbing together in a soothing motion as they greeted their King. You heard the three chatterings lightly, as sweat beaded down your forehead in anticipation for him to get to you. Your booth was about five little cubicles down, he’d be at your ‘doorstep’ in no time.

Lucifer listened with only mild interest as each artist walked him through their different pieces. His gaze kept shooting away, looking for you, no doubt since you were busy hyping yourself in the corner. 

Assuming he didn’t walk up to you and go ‘Hi babe!’ he would most likely treat you like everyone else here, and you’d have to do your best to keep suspicion low. That was hard, when his close proximity always sent goosebumps rippling across your skin, or your demeanor to change instantly.

He just had that energy that warmed you to the core, and you always ended up stupid and giggly by the end of the night in his presence. Hopefully, the anxiety of being surrounded by so many people would keep you cool.

It wasn’t until you could hear him in the display right next to you, did you shuffled to the front, hands clasped in front of you with a wide, professional smile. The patrons buzzed around you, most of them still eyeing the King with interest and awe, but some began slowly dispersing as they continued their tour around the building. 

“And here, is one of our newest participants in the event. I believe they specialize in paintings of multiple forms, I’m sure you will enjoy their work, Your Majesty.”

You locked eyes with Lucifer just as he rounded the little corner to your booth, that charming smile only curving upward an inch as his gaze softened at the sight of you. 

He stood beside the event coordinator who turned to you expectantly, his eyebrows raised as he waited for.. something.

You stared at him for a moment, before your posture straightened with a grimace and you leaned forward in a bow. This time, you made sure to keep your hand tucked beside you when doing so.

Shit, this was supposed to be you meeting the King of Hell for the first time! Your relaxed posture probably looked pretty insolent to the coordinator, thankfully, Lucifer paid no mind to any misstep ettique.

“Your Majesty, it’s an honor to be graced in your presence,” you spoke sweetly, smile widening more awkwardly now.

“It sure is, my dear subject,” Lucifer modded in agreement, a smirk playing on his lips as his gaze rose from you to the walls behind your figure.

“Golly, is this your art?” He gasped, placing a hand on his heart as his eyes drank in the pieces hanging around you.

“Yes…” you replied slowly, quirking a brow at his dramatics.

“Boy, let me tell you, these paintings are absolutely exquisite!” Lucifer gave a chef’s kiss, a loud smacking noise as his lips left his fingers.

His eyes flicked to the small crowd that was still congregating around your display, as they listened to his words intently. The fallen angel met your gaze once more, and gave you a sly wink, your eyes widened at his gesture.

‘Don’t you dare..’ You growled through a glare right as you saw that mischievous glint sparkle in his eye, he only stared back at you defiantly, before that devilish smirk curved even higher.

“Are you sure you aren’t Leonardo Da’Vinci; one of the greatest, most famous artists from the Renaissance?” Lucifer continued, twisting his head a tiny bit to subtly address the staring demons behind him. 

The figures around you leaned in slightly, their eyes darting across your work with renewed interest as they listened to their King praise you with such grand words. Even the event coordinator lifted his head to get a better look at a painting, his gaze fixed intently as he practically breathed in the scene on the canvas.

“That is very generous of you, I’m sure you’ve seen much better in all of your years attending something like this.”

“Nope!” He replied confidently, and a few demons that were milling about stopped to get a look at your booth.

“Well, it seems like His Majesty is quite pleased with the display! Shall we see what the others have to offer as well?” The coordinator piped up, clapping his hands softly as he took control of the scene once more.

Lucifer turned with a large, exaggerated toothy grin on his face as he stared at the man with fake interest. He definitely didn't want to leave, but with so many eyes on him, expecting him to play the role he had so meticulously designed all his years in Hell, he could only begrudgingly oblige to follow the man out of your booth.

He turned his head slightly, shooting you an unreadable look as you watched him move on to the next booth.

It wasn't until you turned your attention away from Lucifer, did you caught a figure walking towards you, the man’s eyes trained on you as moved. He was about your height, muscles showing through the tight, green dress shirt that clung to his thick frame. 

He had blonde hair, but not as bright as Lucifer's, more of a dirty blonde with hints of a red undertone. He resembled a man enough, other than a few animalistic features like the sharp fangs, pointed ears, and the black goat horns sticking out of his forehead.

“Oh, hello!” You greeted, smiling at the new demon who strolled up to you, “Interested in purchasing something?”

“Actually, I’m one of the people that’s doing the judgments tonight, the name is Ezekial.” The man smiled confidently, lifting a hand towards you to shake. 

You shook it, your smile faltering on how sweaty this guy's palm was. When you tried to release your hand from his grip, he let his fingers linger against your skin before pulling away.

“Listen, I personally think your art is fantastic. Such care towards your work, honestly, elicits such emotions, like that one-–” 

Ezekiel pointed behind you, to another small painting of two people in a deep kiss, their lust obvious as the man practically ate at the woman’s face. You turned back to him with a quirked brow as he sidled closer, and you could see a small balding spot on his scalp as he lowered his head.

“—it really fills the room with the same kind of emotions, I’m sure even you feel that… passion looking at it right now, don’t you?”

Was he shooting your bedroom eyes right now? What a weirdo. It’s not like you could do anything about it, he was going to decide your fate tonight, and that meant keeping friendliness with the demon.

“You’re too kind,” you responded with a pleasant smile, taking a step backward, “but you’re one of the people judging tonight's event, I’m sure my work is incomparable when it comes to your own.”

“Well, now that you mention it…” Ezekiel puffed his chest slightly, sidling closer to you once more, as he began to fill you in on practically his entire life story. A tight smile crept onto your lips, and you fought not to roll your eyes.

For some reason, he also enlightened you on the multitude of women he had picked up during his career, including the two failed marriages. Did he think that was supposed to entice you to sleep with him or something?

As he droned on, your eyes peaked past his shoulder, and through the demons behind you, you caught sight of a familiar, porcelain figure staring intensely at you.

You almost burst out laughing at the deep frown on his features, as he watched Ezekial only get closer to you as he continued his conversation. His pupils were dilated, honed in on the judge’s back as if he was intent on smiting him right then and there.

The event coordinator was busy blabbing in his ear, other demons around him also trying to get his attention, but his attention was solely on you. 

Lucifer was jealous, no doubt. For some reason, that made you kinda giddy inside. The memory of what happened last time he got jealous played in your mind, the time you were thrust into a musical number before it ended in a hot make-out session.

You’ve been needy all day since speaking to him earlier in the morning, and that memory made you ache even more to feel his claws grazing up your thighs, his lips trailing down your stomach and–

Ezekiel only seemed to perk at your hot-and-bothered expression that seemed to seep through your placid smile, and his tone only deepened as he spoke to you. His arm above you, against the wall as he tried leaning seductively.

You felt the heat that was slowly building cool instantly at his demeanor. Did this guy realize he was standing around some of the most influential figures in high society? He didn’t think he was the top shit just because he was a judge, right?

When your gaze flicked back to Lucifer, his mouth was agape, eyes wide in horror as he watched the demon lean in towards you. Then, his face screwed up into a deadly frown, his hints of red peeking from his iris.

You quickly backpedaled away from Ezekial, turning abruptly right as another patron walked into your display, smiling widely in greeting. Ezekial only frowned at your sudden exit, before he was called away by another figure, irritation on his features.

You averted Lucifer’s gaze for a while, preoccupied with the larger number of demons coming up to speak to you about your paintings, their interest peaked ever since Lucifer’s little display of awe. You also noticed that your little cash pouch was continuing to bulge in size much faster than normal.

It wasn’t until your bladder began to knock on your insides did you realized how long you’d been standing there speaking with people. Your social battery was about to empty, your mouth was dry, and you really had to pee.

Excusing yourself, you crossed the floor, beelining for the short hall nestled in the back of the building. The restrooms were located there, and it was hidden from view and only accessible from two small entryways on either side. As you entered the darkened corridor, you breathed a sigh of relief, the harsh lights and the noisy atmosphere were finally drowned out by the thick wall

As you finished up in the bathroom, you splashed your face with cold water to drain some of the exhaustion from your features. You were definitely going to sleep good tonight.

Right as you exited the restroom and began moving down the hall, a tall, curvy woman brushed past you, you only were able to blink before she suddenly turned to face you with interest. She had a short, blue dress that showed all the cleavage. She sent you a sultry smirk as she looked up and down your figure.

“Hey, I know you, you’re that Leonardo Da’Vinci artist, right?

“Yes, I am,” you smiled respectively, holding in a sigh.

“Well, let me just say, I think you’re work is fucking stunning, babes,” she replied with a velvet tone, the top of her thighs beginning to peak slightly from her dress as she adjusted her posture, “and, the art definitely matches the artist.”

“Thanks,” you replied sheepishly, averting your gaze from her exposed skin. 

“If you ever want to recreate some of your.. erotic pieces, just give me a call, I’ll be around all night,” she purred with a wink.

“Hey, babe! You comin’ or what?” You heard a masculine voice growl from the hall’s entryway, the light illuminating from the building's overhead lights casting a thick shadow from his large figure.

“I’m coming!” The woman huffed, and she turned to you with a giggle, “I’ll see you around, cupcake.”

Your mouth was slightly agape as you watched her saunter off, your brain short-circuiting at everything that had been happening.

Groaning, you rubbed a hand roughly down your face as the rhythmic clicking of the woman’s heels faded away. How much more crazy could tonight get?

“What are you doing over here?”

You jumped at the voice, pivoting sharply to face the figure basked in shadows. It was the yellow eyes that gave Lucifer away, as he stalked forward with an unreadable expression.

Did he listen to everything? You tense for a moment, before furrowing your brows. What did it matter? It wasn’t you making any advances.

“No, what are you doing here?” You pointed an accusatory finger at him, and he frowned at your gesture, “Here I was thinking you’d be in some kind of disguise, hiding amongst the servants or something, but then you just show up and just start running things? What happened to ‘I can’t handle big crowds’?”

“This is totally different,” he shook his head, waving his hand in a brushing motion as he leaned against his cane, “These are my most loyal subjects, who used to see me all the time when I was much more involved. Not to mention, they have class and a decent amount of manners. What I don’t like is being surrounded by depraved animals that spend their nights coked up and catching all sorts of diseases tangling with random strangers.”

He shivered at the thought, sticking his tongue out in disgust at the thought and you only sighed in defeat. Your man had a point.

“Fine, but I told you I didn’t want you to influence anything that happened tonight. That is kind of hard when you’re hyping my work up like I’m Leonardo re-incarnated.”

“Hey, those were all genuine reactions! And, I did pretend to have no connection to you. But, that was a bad idea, apparently, with all the looks you were getting right in front of my fucking face.” Lucifer growled, his fingers clenching the apple on his cane tighter as his cold gaze flicked to the corner where that woman had disappeared.

“I was not getting any looks,” you crossed your arms, huffing in disbelief. He was acting as if the whole building was ogling you, when they were clearly ogling him. 

“You were! Some of those men were practically drooling all over you, not to mention how they kept scooting closer to you. I saw it all!” Lucifer averted his gaze, staring daggers at the wall. 

He wasn’t mad at you, but he definitely wanted to throttle someone. More specifically, every man whose gaze ate up your figure hungrily while you spoke to patrons. 

Thankfully, in the darkened corner of the building,  the two of you were hidden from prying eyes for just a moment, where he could have you all to himself even for a few minutes.

“Please, you’re just exaggerating, what makes me good to look at?” 

“Your outfit!” He replied quickly, his eyes tracing your figure hungrily as he explained with delight, “God, it really brings out your curves, especially with the way it hugs your waist. It makes your eyes pop too, and I just can't stop getting engrossed in them.”

He bit his lip, the sharp point of his teeth sticking out as he seemed to muster all his strength to keep from saying anything more. As if his words would only fuel the fire that was burning inside both of you right now.

“I look that good right now?” 

“If I could have you right here, I would,” he breathed, his eyes hungry with need as he stared at you longingly.

Your skin practically sizzled with heat, and your legs felt gooey as his words filled your stomach with butterflies. This man was just good with his words, always surprising with you how his lowered voice twisted your insides and made you think all kinds of nasty thoughts.

Not to mention, you've been waiting to have him all to yourself the entire day! Was it so bad if it was only a few feet away from a large room full of nobility from across all seven rings?

Your gaze darted to an open door behind him, could that be a private room? That thought made your heart flutter, and the need to press your lips against Lucifer’s even more uncontrollable.

“Okay, then do it,” those commanding words left your lips before your brain could process the words.

“W-what? You mean right now, seriously?” The king sputtered in disbelief, you had always been vocal about privatizing your sex life, but tonight, you were feeling a little… bold.

“Don’t be a pussy.” You spoke with a honeyed tone as you batted your eyelashes, swinging your hips as you brushed past him, your arm grazing his shoulder tenderly.

That tingle of energy made goosebumps erupt against your skin, and you felt Lucifer tense, his breath hitching as you moved by toward the doorway. He cleared his throat just as you crossed the dark threshold into what seemed like a storage closet. Boxes and other items were stacked against the wall, and a desk holding nothing but dust sat on the other side of the small room.

Lucifer exhaled a breath that he didn’t even know he was holding in, as he followed you into the dark, dusty room. Once he stepped inside, he set his cane by the door frame and his overcoat hit the floor, before he pushed the door close behind him, locking it just in case anyone were to enter in the middle of your session. 

You brushed the accumulated dust that was on the desk, not wanting to dirty your outfit so that you’d still have to show-off in afterward. 

Once cleaned, you sit yourself on the surface while keeping your gaze fixated on the fallen angel. You watched every one of his movements, your hand supporting the weight of your body leaning back on the desk. Lucifer could practically feel his heart about to jump out of his skin as he approached your awaiting figure, his lean arms snaking around your waist before placed his lips on yours in a hungry kiss.

You fold your arms around his neck to pull him closer, fingers interlocked with his soft, blonde hair that you adore. You caught a whiff of his usual shampoo, that crisp apple aroma making your head spin and heat bloom in your stomach. 

You deepened the kiss, hungry for more of him despite already being so intimate. His teeth grazed against your lips, a light tug on your soft skin as a plea for you to allow space for his tongue to enter.

Your lips parted with a soft mewl rolling off your tongue, a familiar wet muscle instantly pushed past your lips and into your mouth. Lucifer’s tongue collided with your own, drawing a groan from him as he pressed his hips against yours. 

His erect is so obvious from a mere brush of your hips, that it almost made you giggle against his lips. He groaned from the light friction, hips involuntarily rocking against yours to get more of it. You whined into the kiss, moving your legs to wrap around his waist, pressing him closer exactly where you want him to be. You felt his hand creep under your shirt, his fingers caressing your flushed skin under the fabric. His touch is gentle yet possessive, almost feeling like he’s marking you from his touch alone.

“So pretty,” He mumbled against your jaw after pulling away from your moist lips. His breath hot against your skin, he pressed a trail of kisses from your jaw down to your neck. Lucifer drew his tongue out and attacked the sensitive spot on your neck; that one spot that always makes your body shudder. 

He hummed against your damp skin, his teeth brutally abusing the spot by sinking deep into your skin. You moaned suddenly, fingers tugging on his hair which made his scalp burn. His hand that remained under your shirt traveled down to the waistband of your pants, cold fingers slipping through them in a teasing demeanor.

“You look so pretty in this outfit. Gonna keep ‘em on for me, hm?” His voice vibrated through your body and reached your core, clicking something inside of you. You nod eagerly, whispering a small ‘yes’ in response to his words. 

You heard a muffled praise from Lucifer before feeling him pull your pants down, pushing them until they hang on only one side of your leg. Your forehead rests on his shoulder, gaze fixated on where his hand hurriedly unbuckled his pants. Judging from how he fumbled at the zip, you can tell he has been waiting for this all day impatiently.

A whine spilled from your lips as he pressed the tip of his length at your entrance, circling it at the area to spread his pre-cum just in case he might hurt you. He’s sensitive; just from pushing the tip in, he has already let out a loud groan while leaning his forehead against your shoulder. Your breath hitched at the stretch, body twitching occasionally as he carried on pushing the rest in inch by delicious inch. 

Lucifer’s eyes screwed shut, enjoying every second of your warmth engulfing his erect that is now nicely nestled deep inside of you. Your nails clawed into him through his loose shirt, legs trembling while doing your best to adjust to his size. His tip is already pressed against that weak spot hidden inside of you, the sensation tightened the coil that formed in your stomach.

“G-gonna move, ‘kay? Tell if if you wanna stop.” He stumbled over his own words because of how good you felt, now moving his hips to thrust into you at a slow pace. You feel your walls burn, the pain bringing a sense of pleasure that coursed through your veins. Moans start spilling from your lips, your head growing into a blur as he gradually increases the pace of his thrusts.

He pushed you further onto the desk, allowing easier access to the sweet spot in you with his ferocious thrusts. His sharp teeth bite down on the flesh of your neck, lips attached to your skin as he sucked on the area continuously until dark spots bloomed. He repeated his actions, hickeys bloomed all over your exposed skin like flowers during the blooming season.

The fallen angel shows absolutely no mercy with his thrusts, fully projecting his jealousy into them instead of holding back. He rammed into you over and over again, the sound of your skin slapping echoing throughout the small room. 

“Mine, mineminemine. All mine, yeah? Nobody can fuck you this way except me.” He growled while holding you close, drunk on the feeling of you clenching around him every time he hit the spot.

“Fuck, doing so good just for me. You like it? Being fucked into a moaning mess?” 

All you could do was moan, nothing else. Words can hardly be formed in your mind let alone a proper sentence; your vision begins to turn white as your eyes roll to the back of your head.

His grin grew at the sight of your drool rolling down from the corner of your lips, feeling a sense of pride bubbling in his chest. You’re in this state because of him, everything you’re feeling currently is all thanks to him. He twitched at the thought alone, a string of curses fell from his lips as his grip on you tightened. 

He mumbled something along the lines of ‘im close,’ or ‘gonna cum,’ into your shirt before lifting his head, crashing his lips onto yours once more in a hungry kiss. The kiss is sloppy; his tongue is unable to properly move with yours and the same goes for yours. He drinks up every one of your moans from the kiss, groaning from your sweet taste that he could never get enough of.

It only took a few of his hard thrusts until you clenched tightly around him with a sharp inhale of air, body trembled violently as you came undone. Lucifer quickly caught on with you, the tightness around him pushed him off the edge, hot strings of thick seed filling you up from the insides. 

He reduced his pace significantly, now rolling his hips lazily to ride out both of your orgasms. It took a full minute before he slowly pulled out of you, watching the white liquid oozing out of you in the surrounding darkness. You both lean against each other, chest heaving heavily as the both of you try to catch your breath. 

“Fuck,” you finally breathed, your face burying into his shoulder as the bliss subsided. How could a man make you come so undone in such a short amount of time? 

Lucifer placed a hot, wet kiss against your temple as the two of you slowly straightened. Your bare ass was still on the wooden desk’s surface, its cool touch welcoming to the heat still bubbling inside of you. 

Your thighs still ached as Lucifer adjusted the collar of his shirt, before he took a few steps towards an open box, piles of fabric nestled inside. Reaching in, he cleaned any stray dust from the small clothes surface, before handing it tenderly to you.

With an appreciative smile, you took it just as Lucifer walked over to grab his coat and cane. You cleaned yourself up as he straightened his bow tie, fixing his coat upon his shoulders. Before he turned to face your half-naked body as you began to change to look a bit more presentable.

“Are you sure you’re not an angel? ‘Cause those curves are otherworldly, baby,” Lucifer spoke softly as he strolled up to you. His drunken, half-lidded smile was evident on his face as his gaze traveled up your figure once more.

“Don’t you hear the stories?” You replied, honey dripping from your voice as your fingers reached his soft hair, grazing against his scalp as you pulled the strands back into his usual style, “How Lucifer was the most beautiful angel God ever made? How could I ever be similar to someone like you?”

“While I cannot argue with such a statement,” Lucifer laughed, staring adoringly at you as you fussed over his outfit, “If it were you in those paintings, instead of me, Michaelangelo would have been drooling.”

You smiled bashfully, pulling him closer for another deep kiss as you gripped his long collar. You could feel Lucifer’s smile against your skin as he peppered sloppy kisses down to your jaw, and goosebumps erupted across your skin.

Your hand clasped around his moving lips just as he was about to reach the crook of your neck, your mouth clamped shut to force down the moan in your throat as that heat in your abdomen returned slowly. 

“Please?” He whimpered against your palm.

“Later,” you replied sternly, before peeling yourself off of the fallen angel. Your arm brushed against his as you maneuvered to walk behind him. Your hand connected with his ass, and you felt him straighten before shooting you a playful glare.

“How do I look?” You asked, one hand on the room’s doorknob and the other gesturing to your figure

“Do you even need to ask? Perfect, as always.” Lucifer cooed, strolling up to you just as the door cracked open and you peeked your head.

The hallway was dark and empty, and with another quick scan, you slipped quietly into the corridor, Lucifer on your heels. 

“Well, I guess we should split up to not draw any suspicion. I’m sure everyone is wondering where you went.”

“They can wait,” Lucifer brushed your comment off, “You’re more important than these feet-kissers.”

You playfully hit him in the arm in scolding, and he grinned, his sharp teeth glinting in the faint light as you began to walk towards the large doorway at one end of the long hall.

“I’ll see you later, mon amour!” He called after you, before you heard the sizzle of his magic as he no doubt teleported away back into the crowd. 

You sighed happily, adjusting your outfit once more as you crossed the threshold. The glaring lights cause you to squint your eyes as the volume in the room picks up, voices piling over one another until they become an inaudible mess in your head.

You only took a few steps before the dollish face of Anna appeared, a large smile on her face as she beelined for you. She was waving her arms excitedly in the air, trying to get your attention as she cut through the moving silhouettes.

She was moving so fast you thought she was going to ram into you, and you froze, tensing as she reached your figure. Her delicate hands curled around your forearms, shaking you slightly as she bounced in place. You stared wide-eyed at her eagerness.

“I’ve been looking for you, for like ever!” She finally squeaked, her smile only widening as she met your gaze.

“Why?” 

“Didn’t you hear?! You won!!” 

Your heart stopped, your breath hitching, as her words processed in your mind. You what? 

The loud voices were drowned out, replaced by your jumbled thoughts. Won what? The award for ‘Best in Show’, that little prestigious trophy that had sat patiently at the judge's table all night? That was impossible! There were so many better artists here, surely someone else deserved the spot! 

Yet, the way giddiness began to bubble up inside you, and your lips cracked into a wide, stupid grin at Anna’s words only made you a teensy bit thrilled to have taken the position instead of someone else. Was all your hard work finally paying off, was your creative voice finally going to be heard?

“I won..?” You weren’t sure whether to start crying with joy or run away and hide. 

“Yes!! I’m sure the judges are waiting for you so they can present the award, c'mon we have to go! Everybody is probably eager to congratulate you!” 

You felt Anna tugging at your arm, beckoning you to follow her across the room. Your eyes lifted into the crowd, before resting on that familiar, porcelain face that stared back at you.

His brows were raised, a smirk on his lips as he silently whispered ‘I told you so,’ through his gaze. He shot you two thumbs up, his eyes shining with pride. Not for him, but for you.

You sent him a warm smile, before his figure was obscured as another demon approached him. You turned your attention back to Anna, letting her lead you through the small groups of demons.

Your heart fluttered, that exhaustion that was ticking at the back of your mind fading as renewed vigor pushed your feet to move faster. And soon, you’d finally be alone once more with Lucifer, the most vibrant stroke on the canvas of your life.

As you walked, you passed by an elderly figure ambling across the room. You caught a brief glimpse of his features, enough for the recognization of the famous painter hit you in the face, making you almost halt in your tracks.

Was that Caravaggio?

sorry this was late :(!! i took an extra day or two to chillax and celebrated my bday, but i hope the word count made up for that!

and HUGE thanks to @silasours for writing the smut!! i was not feeling it this time but i really liked the idea and thankfully they swooped in to help! go check out their page if you want to see more hazbin works like that :)!!

also, i just realized i’ve written 100k words in less than 2 months?! like 😵‍💫 wowza that’s a lot! a whole ass book lmao

let me know your thoughts, have a wonderful day! 🦢

tag list 🏷️

@ohnoivefallen @doodlebob2726 @coleisyn @sukxma-archive @undertale-is-sansational @nehy019 @mixplara @chewbrry @yellowsubiesdance @airwolf92 @lxkeee @jellybellyrulez @catnoirsleftnut @mbruben-stein @mint129106 @froggybich @moonlovers34 @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @lil-bexie @lowkeyhottho @wings-of-sapphire @the-tortured-poet @enigmatic-blues @bethleeham @blue122 @cherry-4200 @azullynx @luzzbuzz @for-hearthand-home @helluvapoison @th3-st4r-gur1 @concentratedconcrete @cimadreamer @marsenbie @guacam011y @maxiskindahere @purplerose291 @koumieru @fictional-character-whore @0willowwisp0

[musubi-sama]

Impatient

Are you hungry? Horny? A little demanding, perhaps impatient?

CW: general horniness, horny use of a kitchen counter, hints of phone sex, gratuitous fingering, teasing, mentions of rope and bondage.

A/N: Shoutout to @pseudowho for the edits and review on this one. Haitch, you really helped tighten it up nicely (pun intended).

You were finally home after a long day of meetings that should have been emails, and project deadlines assigned by managers so far removed from the work itself, that they had lost all concept of time.

Walking in the door, you shedded your shoes haphazardly in the entrance, before leaving a trail of bags, jackets, and pants littering the hallway. Clad in only socks, a tunic, bra, and a simple pair of black cotton panties, you skillfully pulled your workhorse bra out of your shirt.

“Ah, much better,” you exhaled in exhausted comfort.

Reaching the kitchen, you grabbed a wine glass from a cabinet, and the leftover wine from the night before. Perhaps the glass was a bit overfilled, but to hell with the rules and etiquette of wine drinking. If rulemakers had had the week you did, and the dry spell you did, they’d understand.

After taking a two-gulp drink of wine, you turned back to the cabinets, now in search of a snack - you tried to convince yourself you’re only hungry for food.

Gripping the edge of the counter, you bent over to stretch your back. Sticking your ass out into the empty space behind you, you were reminded it had been two weeks since you last felt the grind of your husband.

“I miss you. My flight gets in late tomorrow, don’t wait up for me.” Suguru called you before bed, every night of his business trip. “I’m coming with you next time. I’ll work remotely. I don’t care. It’s been far too long and my toys aren’t enough,” you whined, hand slipping below your panties. “Tell me what you’re doing right now…”

Before resuming your search, you continued to make quick work of your wine, quickly shifting your hunger into something more aching, something more lustful. You’d definitely need to grab another bottle before making a decision.

Reaching up again, and standing on your tippy toes, a large, warm hand gently slid around your hip. You jumped, but the familiarity hit immediately.

In a fit of joy, you spun around to see Suguru’s hungry eyes. You started to bring your hands up around his neck and he wrapped his hand and arm fully under your ass, pulling you up to the counter. His chest pressed briefly against you in a fleeting embrace of convenience.

“Oh!” You didn’t even get a moment to greet him, before he planted your feet, legs spread wide across the counter.

Immediately recognizing what this could have meant for you, you tried again to wrap your arms around Suguru’s neck.

“C’mere-“ You were cut off as Suguru leaned down into the cabinet below you to rummage around. Having secured his target, he stood back up, holding a frying pan.

“Are you in the mood for bacon and eggs?” Suguru stepped away from you, a gentle smile on his otherwise unreadable face.

Your stomach sunk with peevish disappointment.

“I’m-…sure. That sounds fine,” you answered, clipped. “Welcome home, by the way.”

Suguru stepped back, his eyes darkening in contrast to his continued calm and relaxed smile. He set the pan gently on the stove beside you. Returning to you, Suguru placed his hands upon your thighs, just above your knees. You see he is travel weary, mixed with the dying wisps of a bright and airy cologne, clearly arriving at the end of a long day.

Your face belied the frustration you were attempting to hide.

“Unless you have some other ideas for dinner?” Suguru raised one eyebrow, slightly cocking his head to the side. His hands slipped one centimeter down your legs, his thumbs digging into the soft, squishy inner part of your exposed thighs.

“Oh come on,” you whined, dropping your head backwards in frustration. “I’ll spell it out for you. Either put your tongue to work on my pussy or let me drop to my knees right now and take you down my throat.”

Suddenly a hand gripped your throat and your head whipped up, meeting Suguru’s intense amethyst eyes. You feel a rush of blood to your neglected pussy. Suguru’s other hand grips the gusset of your panties, pulling them up as far as they allowed, giving you just a little pressure.

“I wanted to make you dinner, make sure you had enough energy for when I fuck you senseless later. But apparently you’re too fucking-“ he squeezed just a little tighter around your neck. You let out a high-pitched whine, “-impatient.”

You squirmed under his touch, trying to use the pressure from the fabric pulling against you to gain some amount of relief. Suguru chuckled as he adjusted his grip to reduce the pull. Your needy gaze pleaded with him.

Bringing one hand up to grip Suguru’s wrist, you held tightly.

“Damn right I’m fucking impatient! It’s been two weeks and while I loved listening to you talk me through it on the phone-“

You were cut off as Suguru removed his hand from your throat, dropped to his knees, and ripped your panties off in one swift tug. Using both hands to spread your labia apart, he wasted no time before laying his tongue flat across your sensitive cunt. Savoring the taste, he went back for more, this time with increased pressure and using the tip of his tongue.

Reaching for Suguru’s hair, pulled half-up into a bun, you grounded yourself by gripping tightly. Your moans gained volume with each press of his tongue and you began to roll your hips in response.

He pulled his head back for just a moment and you locked eyes. A sheen of your wetness smeared across his jaw, and Suguru licked his lips as he drew lazy circles around your throbbing clit. Renewed whines fell from your lips as you head tipped back once again, this time in abject pleasure.

Soon, you felt his middle finger teasing at your entrance, dipping just the tip, then up to the cuticle, the first knuckle as you buck your hips. Suguru still teased your impatience, continuing this pace until his entire finger was sheathed. Finally, after an agonizing wait, he added his ring finger at the same infuriating pace, encouraging you to fuck yourself onto his hand.

Your whines were caught in your throat as he curls his fingers upwards, lightly dragging against the sensitive spongy spot deep in your pussy. In reaction to the intense pleasure building, you gripped his hair again and brought his face back to your sopping wet cunt. Feeling a tug on his scalp, Suguru’s moans reverberated through you, a gentle personal vibrator.

Picking up speed, the squelchsquelchsquelch added a sinful melody to the base of your combined moans and panting countermelodies. You could feel the cliff approaching. The pressure built, the high you’d been chasing for two weeks but never quite reaching.

Suguru could read you well. So well, that he knew exactly how close you are when he pulled back, wetness soaking his fingers, collecting on his chin. And he knew exactly the way frustration would show across your features. Your legs would tense, a new shade of red would blossom across your cheeks. And you’d shout-

“What the fuck?!”

“That’s for being impatient and demanding I ‘put my tongue to work’ before dinner, like some trained monkey.”

Suguru stood up and used the back of his hand to wipe the remaining slick from his chin. He shoved his fingers in your mouth to stop further protest.

“Now, here’s your appetizer. Go make sure the straps are secured to the bed and get the purple ropes out of the closet, while I finish making us some food.”

Mulish and blushing, and thoroughly put in your place, you hungrily sucked his fingers clean as your legs dropped from the counter to sit up fully. Once you’d cleaned off Suguru’s fingers, savoring your own taste, he gave you a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Please,” Suguru added gently, suppressing a laugh as you stalked away to the bedroom.

[vapekingg]

Last date

Eddie x Fem!Reader

Angst/hurt (no comfort)

Tags - divorce, successful Corroded Coffin, rockstar!Eddie

“We didn’t have to make a whole thing out of this, you know.” You unravel the silverware that’s folded up in front of you and lay the napkin that concealed them in your lap.

The Liberty Bistro, just outside of Hawkins.

You and Eddie used to treat yourselves to Liberty once in a blue moon, back when everything was so simple. He’d make a big sell or you’d pick up an extra shift at the record shop. That was back when all of your money went to rent, beer and weed. The only groceries you could afford to keep stocked were cans of ravioli and milk. Your apartment was just a little one bedroom. It was nothing compared to a glamorous tour bus or hotel rooms, but it was cozy. It was comfortable.

It was home.

That was years ago. And The Liberty Bistro hasn’t changed. It’s still a quiet little steakhouse with candles on every table. Everyone speaks in hushed tones and ambient classical music plays quietly in the background.

Everything else has changed though.

“I wanted to make a thing out of this,” Eddie says from across the table. “You deserve it. We deserve it.”

He smiles with the inflection of his words, but you can see the hurt in his dark eyes.

Eyes as dark as a lake at night, you used to get lost in them back in that little apartment. Liberty’s would take the very last of your money, not a dime left to your name, and never can you remember feeling so rich.

Eddie looks older now. He is older, you both are. You still remember him as the boyish nerd you’d fallen for when you were seventeen though, how his smile lines wrinkled when he finally asked you out and you agreed without hesitation. Everyone else sees him as someone else. A sex symbol. Hollywood’s newest rock and roll god.

You shift your eyes to the bottle of wine that’s sitting on ice at the edge of the table. Anything to avoid seeing his hurt. This was a mutual decision, after all.

Eddie clears his throat.

“Did you bring the, uh…” He waves his finger before bringing it to his mouth. An old nervous habit that you’ve been on him about for years.

The divorce papers.

You reach for them in your bag and lay them out on the table. There’s about a hundred pages here, his lawyers had insisted on it and yours a had argued with you to fight for alimony.

You didn’t want alimony. You wanted your husband.

That stack of papers sits between the two of you like an omen. It was easier to get married. The decision to get divorced didn’t come as naturally.

Eddie’s eyes hold yours for a moment, finally breaking with his resolve to glance at the end of your affair. You see the crinkle of his chin, how his bottom lip is a little red and wet from being chewed on. If only you could comfort him this time, too.

“Baby…” his voice breaks, even in a whisper.

“Eddie.” You whisper back more firmly, tears stinging your eyes now.

To be quite honest, you’re tired.

Tired of fighting the press and the record label. Tired of traveling. Tired of being alone.

You find a pen at the bottom of your bag and set it atop the stack. It doesn’t need to be that big. It’s just one signature. He purses his lips and bites back tears, but you can see them in the clench of his jaw. The flex of the veins in his neck. Eddie quiets the demons screaming at him to give it all up, to tell his managers to fuck off and stay here in Hawkins with you, and instead grabs the pen.

He signs his name across from yours. The end of your marriage.

You look up, expecting time to have turned back somehow. You wish you were still twenty years old and eloping with Eddie to the courthouse. Instead his eyes are heavier, partially because of you. Eddie is older. His hair is a little thicker and his stubble scratches your face now, or at least it did. It will the next girl. He’s on the peak of greatness, and at one point you thought you wanted to stand on that summit with him.

Now, you just want to heal. And you want him to heal, too.

“Well I guess that’s that.” You finally say.

And Eddie smiles. For your comfort, you can tell.

“That’s that.”

Hi! Just letting you all know that my requests are open for Eddie, Steve, Robin, Hopper, Billy, and Rick Sanchez. Prompt me, folks.

[maretinelli]

NEWS BETWEEN SISTERS

Lewis Hamilton X fem!reader

Summary: When George and Carmen arrange a dinner to give the good news to their in-laws, but Y/n also had good news to give to her sister.

Words: 1.9K+

Warnings: Y/n and Carmen are blood sisters, Lewis in the Mercedes still (I don't know, there won't be any specifics), mention of marriage, mention of pregnancy and everything is very happy and cute.

Author: English is not my first language, I apologize if there are mistakes throughout the story. And you can always request stories, just go to my ask box in the bio. ❤️🇧🇷

MASTERLIST

George and Carmen had invited the Hamilton couple to dinner at their house in Monaco. This was not uncommon, as Y/n was Carmen's sister, they always set aside time in their schedule for 'Family' dinners.

Today, therefore, Carmen had separated some news and a more than special invitation for Lewis and Y/n.

What they didn't expect was that Lewis and Y/n also had news and an invitation to give them.

When they arrive at the apartment complex, Lewis drives up to the block where the couple lived, always keeping a hand on Y/n's thigh - a way of saying he was there with her.

"Did you pick up the little box on the table that I left?" Y/n asks, as soon as Hamilton parks the car.

He smiles, taking off his belt: "Sure, it's back here in the bag" She smiles and then sees her husband get out of the car and open her door.

"Thank you," Y/n says, quickly kissing her husband's lips.

He smiles and opens the back door to get the wine and some appetizers that they had voluntarily brought for dinner, and the box that Y/n asked to take.

"Are you okay?" Lewis asks, putting his arm around his wife's waist as they wait for the building's elevator.

The doorman was already informed that they would be there for Carmen, which made the Hamilton couple just say a kind good night to the man at the reception and go up normally.

"Yeah, I'm better than I was this morning," Y/n says, stepping into the elevator first.

"Very good!" Hamilton presses the elevator button for his brother-in-law friend and smiles at his wife.

They engaged in small talk as they made their way up to the couple's apartment. Leaving there, Lewis pressed the doorbell, and they heard someone walking quickly to answer it.

"It's Carmen, George is never this excited to open the door" Y/n says, and seconds later her little sister appears. "I spoke!!" Y/n points with her finger and Lewis laughs softly.

"They're here!" Carmen says happily, pulling her not-so-older older sister into a hug. "GEORGE, DEAR. THEY'RE HERE!" She says a little louder, making room for Lewis and Y/n to enter.

Hamilton greets his sister-in-law, while saying that they brought some good wine from Italy to share with them.

The apartment had a modern decor, with Carmen's personal touches scattered throughout: an elegant blanket thrown on the sofa, framed travel photographs on the wall and a citrus-scented candle lit on the coffee table.

Something that exuded to Carmen, well, Lewis knew how organized and decorated George was. They spent a lot of time together at the races and he knows how disorganized Russel can be just with his driver's room.

"Great!" Carmen smiles excitedly and takes the bottle. "I'll leave it cold for later" she walks to the kitchen.

"We brought some cheese too." Y/n takes the tray of cold cuts to the kitchen, where her sister was.

With that, Lewis spots George coming down the stairs. He waves to his brother-in-law with a quick hug and they get into a conversation about Formula 1 as they head to the kitchen after the women.

"George and I were trying to finish this bottle of champagne. Want to help us?" Carmen asks amusedly, holding up the bottle with half of the liquid still in it.

Lewis enters the kitchen hall with Russel and Y/n sits on a stool, near the island.

"I accept." Lewis smiles gently, turning back to speak to the man.

"Y/n?" Carmen lifts a glass from the cabinet and her older sister shakes her head.

"No, thank you," Y/n says gently and Carmen frowns a little.

"Oh, don't tell me you're on that crazy diet again?" She crosses her arms over her chest, looking at her sister with her head tilted.

Y/n smiles and wrinkles her nose, "More or less" she shakes her head.

Carmen laughs, shaking her head. "I never understand your diet. It's a can and can't of foods. I get dizzy just thinking about it." She pours the liquid into the glass and serves Lewis, he smiles in thanks.

"Strange, Y/n never refuses an alcoholic drink" George says, holding Carmen's waist to cross the other side of the kitchen.

Lewis just smiles as he takes a sip of champagne and Y/n shrugs.

"Do what the nutritionist said, it's agreed" Y/n says and they smile.

While Carmen was unpacking the cheeses and George was saying something about his Formula 1 car and getting something from the cupboard, Y/n threw a quick look at Lewis, who just smiled and shook his head as if to say: It's not time yet. .

The pilot had brought the little box, but he hid it discreetly near the door, so that no one would ask what it was before the time.

"I hope George cooked something better than that roast he burned last time at Carmen and Y/n's mom's house," Lewis jokes, walking to stand behind Y/n and lightly squeeze her waist as she giggles.

Carmen laughs at the memory.

"I'm sorry to tell you, but a few minutes ago I put a lasagna I made myself in the oven." George puts the dish towel on his shoulder and puts his hand on his waist.

The three laugh at the scene.

"I'm glad you brought the cheese, anyway we'll spend the night alone with them..." Carmen leans on the counter and whispers to the couple. They laugh.

George just rolls his eyes smiling.

Carmen chatted happily as she chopped some vegetables to add to the salad. The Mundt sisters weren't very outgoing, but when they were in their own little worlds, they liked to talk more.

"G told me that from that day on, he wouldn't go there anymore because of the shame he went through" Carmen laughed, as she talked about the shame George went through when they went to visit Carmen's parents the last time.

Y/n leans in a little, while laughing and Lewis looks at his brother-in-law with amusement and laughs.

"Gee, George," Lewis opens his arms and Russel just shrugs and stands up to look at his lasagna.

Y/n laughs some more, while drinking the orange juice that her younger sister served.

"So Y/n, you're very happy today. Did something happen?" Carmen crosses her arms and looks at her sister smiling.

Y/n puts the glass on the counter and smiles, while Lewis lightly squeezes his wife's waist.

"Nothing. I'm just happy to see my sister." She tilts her head and Carmen rolls her eyes with a laugh, going back to making the salad. "What about you? You're more chatty than usual."

Carmen smiles, "Happy to see my big sister," she replies as Y/n, making her laugh.

"Hey, the lasagna is ready." George takes the food out of the oven.

Carmen claps her hands happily.

"Come on guys, the table is ready" Carmen holds her sister's shoulders as she gets up and everyone goes to the living room.

"Lewis, just for the record, if my lasagna is perfect, I expect a public compliment from you at the next race I win." George said, pointing at his brother-in-law. And placing the lasagna on the table.

The girls giggled as Lewis pulled out a chair for his wife to sit in.

"No problem, as long as you promise never to cook that roast again," Hamilton replied, drawing laughter from everyone.

Dinner was already over, Y/n placed her fork on her plate and discreetly wiped her mouth with a napkin.

"Hey George, you outdid yourself on that one, huh. I admit the lasagna was good" She confesses and Lewis agrees beside her.

"And they still underestimated my cooking," George says, making them laugh. "I told you it was a work of art!"

Carmen rolls her eyes laughing. "Don't exaggerate, G. We still have to survive the next one."

"Don't curse my cooking!" George throws the napkin at his girlfriend.

Carmen laughs as the cloth hits her face.

George stood up and began to collect the dishes, everyone followed the pilot's example, taking the dishes to the sink.

Lewis and George took the opportunity to discreetly place their boxes under their respective chairs. When everyone returned to the table, the Mundt sisters resumed their conversation, laughing and sharing stories.

Carmen exchanged glances with George, smiling. "Actually, we have something important to tell you," she began.

George added, "And we want you to be a part of it." He reached for the box under his chair.

Lewis and Y/n looked at each other strangely, but smiled, as they picked up the black box. Upon opening it, they noticed two beautiful glasses and a sophisticated wine, with a handmade letter next to it.

Y/n unfolded the paper, and her eyes began to shine as she read. Lewis tilted his head to read along and smiled broadly.

"Are you guys getting married?" Y/n asked with teary eyes, while Carmen and George nodded smiling.

"Yes, and we want you as our godparents!" Carmen confirmed excitedly.

Before the two could respond, Y/n started crying with the letter in her hand - probably written by Carmen. Which took everyone by surprise, except Lewis, who looked at her with an understanding smile.

Hamilton ran his hand down his wife's back as she sobbed.

Carmen looks worriedly at her older sister and George looks at his fiancée, not knowing what to do.

"Hey, honey. What's up?" Carmen holds her sister's hand, who was on the table, while quickly looking at Lewis, looking for answers.

"It was just supposed to make you guys happy, not emotional like this!" George joked, confused.

Between sobs, Y/n tried to speak, "It's just... I also... I also have something to tell you."

Lewis picks up the box he had and hands it to Carmen and George with a wide smile. The couple in front of them share a curious look and open the box, their eyes widening in surprise.

Inside was a small baby shoe, an ultrasound scan, and a note that read, "Will you be our baby's godparents?"

The air seemed to disappear from the room for a moment, until Carmen screamed, "Oh my God! You're having a baby?!" She stood up and ran to hug her older sister. "Oh my God, yes, we do!"

George was looking at the shoes in the box, while Carmen had the photo of Y/n's first ultrasound in her hands, clearly it was just a blur, but the doctor had circled where the baby would be, so they could get their bearings.

Y/n gets up and hugs her sister, while they both cried with happiness at the news. Lewis and George laugh and also stand up to congratulate each other.

"A baby Hamilton, huh. Congrats, man!" Russel hugs his brother-in-law and pats him on the back.

"A wedding, huh," Lewis says, laughing. "Congratulations, you deserve it, best wishes." The older man holds George's shoulders and smiles.

George hugs Carmen's sister too, congratulating her on the baby on the way.

"So, we accept being the baby's godparents. But we need a fair exchange, we want you as the wedding godparents!" Russel says, making them laugh.

"Sure!! No need to ask twice" Y/n smiles, wiping her eyes.

Carmen pulled her sister into another hug while George poured another glass of wine to celebrate, looking at Lewis. "And you know what that means, right? More dinners with my legendary lasagna."

They laugh.

"Okay, that's fair!" Lewis jokes.

Laughter echoed around the room as the four toasted the new phases of the family, intertwining their lives and celebrating even stronger bonds.

Author: I think Carmen must be a lovely person. I would spend hours talking to her.

[harlotofupdog]

This was meant to be a groveling apology post but it turned into a rage meta post.

I have so many fics that I want to read or finish reading from writers whose work I truly adore, and so much art that I want to stare at and squeal about, and I just haven't got to it. There are fics that I am so in love with and I just… I can't open AO3 until I can just sit, y'know?

I know that literally no-one is counting on me for this stuff because I am a tiny wonker, but I feel perpetually awful about it nonetheless. I also have a bunch of fic stuff (writing and beta) that I never get to, and I'm now at the point where I'm so overwhelmed by all the things I need to do that I'm paralysed by procrastination. There's probably a few topsy-turvy chonkadonks of recent news that haven't helped, but the main thing is…

FUCKING HOTEL ROOMS.

I spend so much time in hotel rooms. I used to love hotel rooms. It felt like a little treat every time I stayed in a nice one. Bright white sheets, little sachets of tea and shitty instant coffee, minibars, dressing gowns, inconvenient power outlets, unflattering mirrors - I loved it all. But now I fucking dread them. They are my ultimate (bad) liminal spaces - just fancy transit points between the airport or the train station or the closest fucking McDonald's where I can eat a zillion nuggets until I feel better.

I've tried to be productive in hotel rooms, I really have. I bring my laptop, I bring my sketchpad. Sometimes I have a couple of free hours in the evening, and god, why don't I use them? Instead, I sit and think and scroll while I drink all the shitty tea and shitty coffee and sometimes an entire bottle of red or whatever tiny booze they have in the minibar.

It occurs to me, after 6000 years of fucking hotel rooms, that they are… Heaven. They are, right? Crisp, light, bright, stifling. There's the concierge in their nice suit, the fancy faux marble foyer, elevators that sneak up from behind and then DING as if you're the arsehole for facing the other way, mirrors fucking EVERYWHERE jump-scaring you with your own face, the end of the toilet paper folded into a little triangle... (whose bum needs that? A tiny triangle before the rest of the paper? No-one's bum needs that!)

And Heaven is always watching, isn't it?

The binful of teabags, the crumpled up packets of crisps-for-dinner, the empty bottle of wine - they will all be SEEN, along with the sanitary bag and the snotty tissues and the laddered stockings that I've wrenched off in a rage because now I have to go buy more. (WHY DID HOTELS GET RID OF BIN BAGS?)

We haven't even made it to the mortifying ordeal of ordering room service as a solo business traveler. I order the club sandwich, because that is the first thing you should order in a hotel, always - this is a rule. I eat it, it's fine. Club sandwiches have probably hauled me back from the edge of madness/chicken nuggets at least four times now. The next night, though, I don't want a club sandwich. I want something else.

A pizza.

There is no option to order a half pizza, and if I order a whole pizza, I will eat the whole pizza. So I order a whole pizza, obviously. I eat the pizza, because of course I do - it's not great, but it's kinda okay and it's something to do because I can't do any of the other things like live or breathe or exist in regular human form.

But when the pizza is gone, I look at the empty tray sitting on the slimy glass-topped desk and the realisation hits: they will know I know they know that I sat on my pristine bed, shoving melted cheese and prosciutto into my mouth, probably in full view of some late night meeting in the next building over, while staring at a wall and fervently wishing I were elsewhere.

There is probably sauce on the sheets and a bit of rocket on the floor that I can't find, and the TV remote is greasy af. It's basically a murder scene and I will feel guilty for the next millennia and a bit.

In conclusion...

Heaven is a panopticon and so is the Hilton. But Azi showed up for it, and so will I. Hopefully we can all make it back to the comfy, dusty book-filled spaces for good one day.

[caapsiizzereads]

Would you do a Jamie Tartt imagine where he and his girlfriend's anniversary is during an away game so he's super clingy and pouty he's missing it before/after the game, thanks in advance!

🤲

Jamie has been ecstatic about playing for the England national team. He doesn’t care about the extra travel or extra training – it’s all worth it. That is, until the date of an away match falls on your one-year anniversary. Suddenly, he isn’t excited for the match at all. He asks if you can come with him, but you’re swamped with work, so that isn’t an option.

Jamie can be one dramatic bitch sometimes, and it’s exactly one of those times. You insist that it’s fine and you can celebrate on the next day, but it’s not good enough for him.

“We’ll have other anniversaries,” you’re trying to comfort him. It’s only after you say it that you realize that it’s a bit presumptuous.

Jamie doesn’t seem to notice. “But this is our first one!”

“Jamie, it’s fine, really. We’ll just celebrate on the next day, it’s not a big deal.”

He whines.

“Okay, this is it. You don’t get to complain. You will be in Naples, playing for the fucking national team, while I’m stuck here.”

“But it’s no fun if you’re not there!” he pouts.

“It is if you win the match. Have some ice cream for me.” You kiss him on the cheek, and he lays his head on your chest miserably.

Jamie stays glued to your side for the whole day before he has to leave, he kisses you, like, a hundred times, and then hugs you for a full three minutes before stepping out the door.

You facetime when he’s there. He calls you the first thing in the morning, and you just hang out on a call while getting ready for your days, you say that you’ll be cheering for him and wish him good luck on his match. Then he texts you right after the match, and you congratulate him on the win.

The team is getting on the bus to go to the airport, and Jamie just can’t wait to get back to you. He googles all the food places that will still be open when he lands, so that you’ll be able to at least have a simple dinner at home. Fortunately, being a famous footballer comes with some privileges, one of which is that certain restaurants are willing to provide their services for him even after their regular closing time.

Jamie texts you when he lands, and you instantly reply, which means that you aren’t asleep yet, so he happily stops by a restaurant to pick up the food on his way home.

When Jamie parks by your house, he notices that the lights are off. It’s been only an hour since you texted him, surely you couldn’t fall asleep, right? He quietly enters the house and takes off his shoes. Now, standing in the hallway, he can see the dim light coming from the kitchen.

He walks into the room to find it illuminated by a dozen candles and you sitting on the kitchen island, smiling charmingly at him.

“Hi,” you greet him playfully.

“Hi,” he says softly, feeling the warmth in his cheeks. No matter how much time goes by, you always have this effect on him. “I got dinner,” he lifts his hand with the takeout bags in it. “And ice cream. Had to get it here, though, didn’t think it could survive the flight.”

“I got wine,” you nod in the direction of a wine bottle and two empty glasses standing on the counter.

Jamie puts the bags near them and walks up to you, standing in the space between your legs. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into a kiss. “Happy anniversary.”

Jamie melts into your embrace, smiling blissfully at you. “Happy anniversary.”

[iwas-princess]

hihihi can I plzpkzplzpkz have iwaizumi hajime w a oikawas little sister!reader

iwaizumi hajime • my pride and joy

genre: fluff/suggestive

“babe, should we bring the watermelon or beer?” hajime called from the kitchen. his eyes were fixated on the brand new bottle of wine in his hands as he read the label curiously, a crease forming between his brows and a frown on his lips giving away his current emotion.

“um, i think kawa is going to bring the watermelons.” you answered as you entered the room after getting ready in the bedroom. “wait, no- matsukawa is.”

“so beer it is.” he sighed before settling the bottle into the open tote bag on the counter, his attention having yet to travel on you ever since you walked in.

“sorry.” you apologetically mumbled, watching his back muscles contort briefly when he set the wine down.

your prideful older brother, toru, was hosting a celebratory cookout in honor of his departure to argentina next week, gathering everyone he had ever met in his luxurious backyard this evening.

you were already practically sick that he would be so far away from you for a pretty large period of time, and this crowded get together didn’t help calm your nerves. if you weren’t dating his best friend, you easily could have gotten away with not attending and rescheduling with him in the morning to go out for lunch instead. but, iwaizumi persisted that you both go, reasoning that it would ‘matter more in the future’ and ‘you’re his favorite person, you have to go’. it was pathetic how well you listened to him, you decided.

his breath hitched as he turned around and caught sight of you, suddenly feeling anxious for the following few hours with you and two hundred other people. hajime always knew you were gorgeous, even as a child, but it never failed to take his breath away at how well you cleaned up.

“hey, sexy.” he mumbled under his breath before cockily leaning against the marble counter and shamelessly checking you out.

your cheeks heated at his attention, his predatory gaze and sly smirk making your sundress feel suddenly tight. you knew it was one of his favorites, but had faith that he would try to keep it together just for today— even at home. but, obviously you were too hopeful because now he’s practically drooling on his shirt.

“haji, wait until we get home before you start flirting. you’re only going to work yourself up with no relief.”

he groaned like a angsty teenager, throwing his head back dramatically at your denial. he understood why, of course, given that you both were staying at oikawa’s until the later when party had ended, but he still found himself slightly disappointed. it would be hours until you arrived home, hours of other people gawking at you while trying to hide from hajime’s view to avoid getting killed and he really wasn’t in the mood to watch you cry as he and toru argued over a ruined party.

since childhood, iwaizumi had been scarily protective of you, even more so than your own brother. everyone was terrified of him when it came to you, and even though you were hot, they all knew better than to pay you any mind. any more than a quick ‘hi’ would send them home battered and sulking, and absolutely no one planned on that fate tonight.

but, he was sure someone would try to tempt him with the way that dress hugged your curves.

“oh, stop acting like a child. you’ll get your fix on the car ride home— if you’re good.” you placed a quick kiss to his jaw for reassurance as you left the room once more, heading to the bathroom to finish your makeup.

good, he’ll be indeed.

—

the party was chaotic, just as you and hajime had suspected. your brother’s two acer backyard was filled with far more people than he had claimed he invited, and the many conversations overlapped each other loudly.

it was gorgeous though, the decorators sure outdid themselves with the many yards of fairy lights that hung over everyone’s heads and the floral arrangements took all of the guest’s breath away as they entered. drinks were in each hand, the variety being either a wine glass or a beer bottle, most picking the former.

tonight, you and iwaizumi chose to stay near the gazebo where oikawa and his fiancé stood as they greeted all of the guests and old friends of his with large smiles on their faces. most old high school teammates would make their way over to you two next, itching to catch up with the former ace and his girlfriend— his captain’s baby sister.

all of sejioh remembers the infamous oikawa y/n, the girl who was very off limits but everyone wanted, especially her brother’s teammates. it had been a common locker room joke that she would marry one of them someday, and they would gush about how great of a wife she’d be. iwaizumi would often find himself in a good amount of trouble afterward for getting physical with whoever would bring it up, or take of too far, and you had never loved him more than when you heard all of those stories.

“i just can’t believe that you were her pick.” an old teammate shook his head in disbelief as he downed his wine. “i mean, don’t get me wrong, iwa, i’m not surprised you were in love with her, especially after all of those punches i got back then, but wow. i’m just shocked she chose you and not hanamakki. they were good friends there for a while, y’know?”

you could practically feeling the anger fuming off of your boyfriend as your arms linked with him, his tan skin feeling clammy and heated against yours. his face was slightly red, tinted with light frustration from his old friend’s tipsy ramble. it was his second glass, and he had been talking both of your ears off for an hour now about ‘the good old days’. you wouldn’t have minded if hajime hadn’t felt so stiff and hot with each word the man spoke.

“yeah, well, i guess i was more her type than makki.” he shrugged, trying his best to come off as unbothered. “right, babe?”

you nodded, flashing a tight smile at his forced tone.

the flex of his arm as it suddenly tucked you closer to him caused a wave of need to flash through you, his possessiveness and strength making him even more attractive tonight.

you glanced at his face, but soon regretted it once you found that you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. he was a hunk, his face flushed slightly out of aggravation and lips in a very forced smile, as if he was trying his best not to frown angrily. you’ve always thought his hotheaded nature was attractive but tonight, it had done something entirely different to you.

you didn’t feel the insatiable need to tear his clothes off, or makeout with him in the bathroom until you both got caught— you felt proud.

proud that you had been lucky enough to find someone so obsessed with you that the mention of your ‘choice’ had him fuming and tightly trapping your arm in his.

also, so very proud that he was trying his best to appear far more positive than he actually felt, an accomplishment that he had never been able to achieve. but for you, he did.

and you had never felt so perfect for him than now.

“yep, definitely my type.”

[jasellamazon]

Our Wine Bottle Bags for Travel is your ultimate travel companion for the wine enthusiast in you. Designed with the avid jetsetter and wine lover in mind, this innovative Wine Travel protector ensures your treasured bottles reach their destination intact and in style. It will help you bring your wines and spirits home safely, with its bubble-wrapped box for added cushioning and its thick, durable vinyl exterior. Crafted with high-quality materials, this bottle protector wrap promises durability and longevity, safeguarding your beloved wines wherever your adventures take you.

[marinawolf]

an angsty but somewhat cute supercorp first kiss 😚 fic to make the rest of the week better ❤️

Finally (Supercorp)

by marinawolf

Three times Kara wants to kiss Lena, and one time she does.

-the first time she didn't

The elevator doors slid open to Lena's penthouse, and Kara stepped out, holding a bag of take-out pasta in her hands. She had been looking forward to this evening, to spending quality time with Lena, her best friend. With a hopeful smile on her face, she walked deeper into the penthouse, only to freeze in her tracks as she caught sight of Lena in the kitchen.

Lena, still dressed in her work clothes, stood near the counter where two wine glasses had been set out, a bottle of wine in one hand and a corkscrew in the other. Kara's breath hitched in her throat as her eyes traveled up Lena's figure. The black suit hugged Lena's form perfectly, emphasizing her elegant silhouette. The unbuttoned top of her black button-up shirt revealed a tantalizing glimpse of her collarbone.

Lena's hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail, emphasizing her sharp features and highlighting the graceful curve of her neck. Kara's gaze traced the lines of Lena's face, the subtle edge of her jawline, and the way her lips parted slightly as she focused on opening the wine bottle. She was captivated by the intensity in Lena's blue-green eyes. Those eyes never failed to leave Kara spellbound.

Unbeknownst to Lena, Kara watched silently. As Lena fidgeted with the corkscrew, her fingers moving with innate grace, Kara's heart pounded in her chest. She was helplessly in love with Lena, and the sight of her like this, so effortlessly alluring, intensified her feelings to an unbearable degree. In that moment, Kara's mind wandered into forbidden territory, as she allowed herself to imagine what it would be like to slip her arms around Lena's slender waist, to press her lips against the soft skin of Lena's neck. But it remained nothing more than a fantasy, a yearning she buried deep within herself.

Suddenly, as if sensing Kara's gaze on her, Lena looked up, and a stunning smile spread across her face, causing Kara's heart to flutter. "Kara," she breathed, "hi." Kara snapped out of her reverie of admiration and smiled back at Lena, holding up the food.

"I got your favourite."

Lena's eyes gaze fell on the bag in Kara's hands, and her smile widened, causing the little dimple in her cheek to show up. That smile always made Kara's heart stop. 

"Kara, L'Ultima Cena is in Metropolis! How did you get this?" Her voice carried a hint of awe.

The truth was that Kara had flown to Metropolis to get Lena's favourite pasta just to see that smile on Lena's face. But she didn't dare tell Lena that. With a bashful shrug, she said, "I was visiting Kal-El today, and I happened to pick it up on the way back."

Lena stepped closer, her eyes shimmering with appreciation, and placed a gentle hand on Kara's arm. "Kara, that means the world to me. Thank you." 

For a brief moment, Kara considered baring her soul, revealing the depths of her love for Lena. But the fear of ruining their friendship held her back, and she took a step back, distancing herself both physically and emotionally. "Oh, it's nothing, really."

They settled in for dinner, as Lena poured the wine and Kara unpacked the take-out, carefully transferring the pasta to plates. The atmosphere was warm and cozy, yet Kara couldn't shake the undercurrent of longing that pulsed beneath the surface.

As they began to eat, Lena launched into a discussion about work, her brows furrowed with a mix of determination and frustration. "I've been trying to acquire this company," she explained, her voice tinged with a hint of exasperation. "But the board is giving me a hard time. I have a meeting with them later this week, and I'm concerned it won't go in my favour."

Kara listened attentively, always enraptured by anything Lena had to say. She reached across the table, placing her hand gently on Lena's. "Lena, you're brilliant. You'll be fine. And anyway, who can resist Lena Luthor?"

Kara couldn't help but notice that a faint blush dusted Lena's cheeks, though she quickly dismissed it, not wanting to read too much into the fleeting moment. Lena squeezed Kara's hand, a gesture of appreciation.

Their conversation shifted, and Lena's tone turned lighter as she inquired about Kara's romantic life. "So, Alex mentioned that Mon-El has been around a lot. How's that going?"

Kara's heart sank at the mention of Mon-El, her mind filled with the unspoken truth that she longed to reveal. But she composed herself, a smile masking her inner turmoil. "We've been on a few casual dates," she admitted, her voice lacking the enthusiasm Lena might have hoped for. "But I'm not sure if it's what I want."

Lena leaned back in her chair, her expression intense as she regarded Kara. “And what do you want, Kara?”

You, Kara thought I want you. But she didn’t dare utter those words and instead, she shrugged. “I’m not sure.”

She saw Lena’s intensity falter slightly, but Lena quickly covered it up before Kara could really think about it.

"Kara, you'll only know if you try,” she said, taking a sip of wine, “And besides, Mon-El is cute and sweet. He may just make you happy."

Kara's heart ached at Lena's words, knowing that the very thing that would make her truly happy sat before her, just out of reach. She mustered a smile, her voice filled with a touch of melancholy. "You're right."

--

Kara's steps were slow and reluctant as she made her way towards the elevator, not wanting the evening to end. Every fiber of her being longed to stay, to linger in Lena's presence for just a little while longer. 

As she reached the elevator, Lena followed closely behind, their footsteps echoing in the quiet entrance hall. A mixture of reluctance and longing washed over Kara, a whirlwind of emotions that threatened to consume her. Before she could step inside, Lena's arms enveloped her in a tight embrace, their usual goodbye, their bodies pressed together in an intimate closeness.

Kara's breath caught in her throat, her heart pounding against her chest. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to savor the moment, to commit it to memory. Lena's embrace felt like home, a place where Kara's heart found solace, if only for a fleeting instant. The soft touch of Lena's face against her neck sent shivers down her spine, and the scent of Lena's perfume filled her senses, intoxicating and enticing.

Reluctantly, they pulled apart, the embrace ending all too soon. Lena's fingers lingered on Kara's arm, and Kara frowned, confused at the lingering touch. She offered a soft smile, her eyes reflecting a longing that she dared not vocalize. As the elevator doors began to close, Kara held Lena's gaze, the ache in her chest intensifying with each passing moment.

The doors sealed their separation, leaving Kara alone in the enclosed space, her thoughts consumed by the desire she dared not act upon. She pressed a hand against her racing heart, her mind flooded with the image of what could have been. She could have closed the gap between them in an instant, but she had stopped herself. 

-the second time she didn't 

The next morning unfolded in the familiar setting of Catco, where Kara could see Lena immersed in the demands of the office, orchestrating the intricacies of her work. Meanwhile, Kara found herself seated at a desk among other reporters, engrossed in the layout for the upcoming issue. Inevitably, her gaze would wander across the bullpen, drawn irresistibly to Lena's presence. And each time their eyes met, Lena would gift her a smile that sent Kara's heart into a frenzy.

Amidst the buzz of the newsroom, Lena gracefully approached Kara, her steps purposeful yet filled with a tenderness that only they shared. As Lena settled on the table in front of Kara, her touch sent a jolt of electricity through Kara's arm. Clad in a mesmerizing white silk shirt, Lena gave off an effortless elegance that rendered Kara breathless.

"Hello, Kara," Lena greeted, her voice carrying a mixture of familiarity and unspoken yearning. The world around them seemed to fade into the background as Lena's presence enveloped Kara's senses. "Have lunch with me?"

Kara mustered a smile in return, her heart pounding against her ribcage as she nodded. She was usually good at keeping up the facade of friendship, hiding her true feelings, but lately, she found it harder and harder to be in Lena's presence. Every time she set eyes on Lena, her feelings threatened to spill out of her.  

They ventured across the street to a quaint café, and Lena surprised Kara by sitting next to her in the booth, instead of opposite her. But Kara knew that it was probably because Lena didn't want to face away from the window. Still, it felt intimate, and did no favours to Kara's heart. 

As they settled in, Lena looked at her.

"So, have you decided about another date with Mon-El?" she asked, her eyes searching Kara's face for answers.

Kara's heart sank again at the mention of Mon-El, realizing the painful truth behind her intentions. She replied, "I might go on another date with him, just to see if there's anything there."

The admission hung in the air, heavy with the weight of Kara's unspoken turmoil. She knew she sought solace in the familiarity of a nice guy like Mon-El, an attempt to bury her longing for Lena beneath the guise of a relationship with someone else. The internal battle raged within her, torn between the fear of unrequited love and the knowledge that she was being extremely unfair to Mon-El.

In that moment, something shifted in Lena's gaze, a flash of intensity that sent a surge of hope coursing through Kara's veins. Lena leaned in slightly, her eyes fixated on Kara's lips, a magnetic pull that threatened to close the gap between them. Kara couldn't resist the urge to close that distance between them. But fate had a cruel sense of timing, as the intrusion of the waiter shattered the fragile bubble they had created. The spell was broken, and Kara instinctively moved away, introducing a physical distance that mirrored the emotional walls she had forced herself to put up. 

They placed their orders, and as the waiter departed, Kara couldn't help but notice his lingering gaze upon Lena's figure, a surge of possessive jealousy coursing through her veins. 

-the third time she didn't 

Kara worked late that night, and was the last of the reporters to leave. Noticing the time, she decided to go upstairs and grab her stuff before retiring for the night. She entered the elevator. The doors opened, and her footsteps faltered as she reached the main floor of the now empty office. Kara's heart sank as she stood frozen. There, in the midst of her own turmoil, she stumbled upon a scene that felt like a dagger piercing her heart. Lena and James stood in Lena's office, their eyes on each other. James held Lena's hand in his own, his eyes soft. Her gaze fixated on their hands, a sight that ignited a surge of jealousy she had long suppressed. The luminous smile adorning Lena's face as she looked up at James was a painful contrast to the ache that consumed Kara's soul. She listened, unable to tear herself away and cursing her super hearing, as their conversation unfolded before her, each word chipping away at her fragile hope.

James, his voice tinged with anticipation, uttered the words that sliced through Kara's heart. "Okay, so I'll pick you up at eight tomorrow?" he said, his tone carrying an undeniable sense of excitement. Lena's response, a soft affirmation, reverberated in Kara's ears, each syllable like a dagger twisting deeper into her wounded heart. "Yes, perfect."

As James exited Lena's office, he greeted Kara and entered the elevator, a foolish smile etched upon his face. Kara forced herself to meet his gaze. She mustered a strained smile in return, masking the turmoil raging within her. Her mind raced with questions and doubts.

Unable to stop herself, Kara barged into Lena's office, her emotions overriding any sense of reason. Lena looked up in surprise at Kara's sudden intrusion and greeted her with a questioning tone, "Kara, hey. What are you still doing here?"

Ignoring Lena's inquiry, Kara forged ahead, attempting to conceal her swirling jealousy beneath a facade of composure. "You're going on a date with James?" she blurted out.

Lena's smile remained unyielding as she took a step closer to Kara, their proximity sending a surge of conflicting emotions through Kara's veins. "Of course, you heard," Lena replied, and Kara could swear that her words were laced with a hint of challenge. "He asked, and I said yes. Who knows? Maybe it'll be great. He's a nice guy."

Kara's heart quickened, her senses hyperaware of the charged atmosphere enveloping them. Lena's gaze dipped momentarily to Kara's lips. The allure of that moment, the temptation to lean in and close the distance between them, tested Kara's resolve.

But fear, like an unwelcome intruder, seized control, urging her to step away and regain her composure. With a measured effort, Kara composed herself and forced a steady tone. "Yeah, he's a great guy. I'm happy for you, Lena."

Her voice masked the heartbreak that threatened to engulf her, concealing the longing and unspoken desires that lay beneath the surface. Kara bid a hasty retreat from Lena's office, leaving behind pieces of her shattered heart in her wake.

-the first time she did 

Kara spent the entire day in a state of despair, dreading the evening when James and Lena would go on their date. She deliberately avoided Lena, unable to bear the ache in her heart. As the night approached, Kara found herself seeking solace in a bottle of alien alcohol, its captivating blue hue calling to her. She drank alone, feeling a slight buzz as the alcohol coursed through her veins. Thoughts of Lena and James consumed her mind—their hands entwined, the possibility of a kiss at the end of the night, Lena's radiant smile directed at him. Jealousy surged within Kara, the mere thought of James touching Lena becoming unbearable.

In her intoxicated state, Kara couldn't bear the thought of not trying at all. With a mix of determination and impulsiveness, she leaped off her balcony and flew to Lena's penthouse, her heart pounding. Kara landed on Lena's balcony and immediately banged on the door, her emotions raw and unfiltered. Lena, in the midst of putting on an earring, opened the door with a look of confusion etched on her face.

"What are you doing here, Kara?" Lena asked, her voice laced with bewilderment. "Is everything okay?"

Breathless and desperate, Kara looked into Lena's eyes, captivated by the stunning black dress she wore. Her words spilled forth in a rush, "Don't go tonight. Please, Lena, don't go on a date with James."

Lena's eyebrows raised in surprise. "Why not?" she inquired, her tone tinged with curiosity and a hint of challenge. She took a step closer to Kara, their proximity electrifying the air between them, "Why shouldn't I go on a date with James, Kara?"

Struggling to find the words, Kara felt her heart pounding in her chest. Without overthinking, she did what she should have done long ago. In an impulsive move, Kara crashed her lips against Lena's, pouring every ounce of her longing, affection, and desire into that single kiss. It was a passionate, breathtaking moment—an outpouring of emotions that had been suppressed for far too long.

Lena responded immediately, her hands finding their place on Kara's waist, as if they had always belonged there, pulling her closer. Time seemed to stand still. Kara couldn't believe that she was kissing Lena and that Lena was kissing her back, their lips moving in a synchrony.

Lena's lips were a revelation to Kara. The taste of her, a perfect blend of whiskey and sweetness, consumed Kara's thoughts, erasing any doubts or fears that had plagued her. She was lost in the sensation, unable to believe that this long-awaited moment was finally happening.

Every tender brush and urgent press of their lips was an act of longing and release, a culmination of unspoken desires that had silently pulsed between them. 

In that intoxicating kiss, Kara found solace and fulfillment. It was as if a weight had been lifted from her heart, replaced by a sense of completeness she had yearned for but never thought possible. The touch of Lena's lips against hers unleashed a flood of emotions she could no longer contain.

Time seemed to stand still as their kiss deepened, fueled by longing and unspoken declarations of love. Kara's hands instinctively sought the contours of Lena's body, pulling her closer. Kara reveled in the moment, her mind buzzing with euphoria, unable to comprehend the sheer intensity of the emotions rising within her. This was real, tangible, and more beautiful than any dream she had ever dared to imagine.

Reluctantly, they eventually pulled away, their breaths mingling in the space between them. Lena's voice, barely above a whisper, broke the silence.

"Took you long enough," she uttered against Kara's lips, a trace of playfulness in her tone.

[themultifandomgal]

Kelly Severide- Snowed In

Day 5

The wind howled like a banshee outside the modest two-story home that Kelly and YN had made their sanctuary. The house was a blend of comfort and chaos, much like the lives they led. Kelly, a firefighter by profession, was accustomed to facing the elements head-on, but even he could not have predicted the storm that had swept through Chicago that day. YN, his partner in both life and work, was a paramedic, trained to navigate crises with a steady hand and a calm demeanor.

The day had started innocently enough. The sun had peeked through the clouds, casting a soft glow over the snow-dusted landscape. They had shared a quiet breakfast, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the scent of pancakes, the kind of morning that felt like a small victory against the chaos of their lives.

But as the day wore on, the weather took a turn for the worse. Dark clouds rolled in, heavy and ominous. The first flakes of snow began to fall, delicate and beautiful, but soon transformed into a relentless barrage, swirling and dancing in the wind.

“Looks like we might be in for a long night” Kelly said, glancing out the window at the rapidly accumulating snow. YN, who had been scrolling through her phone, looked up with a furrowed brow

“We should probably stock up on supplies, just in case. I don't want to be stuck here without anything”

“Good idea” Kelly replied, his mind already racing through the list of essentials. They quickly donned their winter gear and ventured out into the storm, the biting cold hitting them like a slap. Together, they trudged through the snow, their breaths visible in the frigid air, each step a small battle against the elements.

The local grocery store was a hive of activity, with other residents scrambling to gather supplies before the storm trapped them in their homes. Kelly and YN navigated the aisles, filling their cart with non-perishables, frozen meals, and a few treats such as hot cocoa mix, marshmallows, and a couple of bottles of wine. They exchanged amused glances as they watched others frantically toss items into their carts, their faces a mix of anxiety and determination

“Looks like we're not the only ones who underestimated this storm” YN chuckled as they passed a woman wrestling with a giant bag of dog food

“Better safe than sorry” Kelly replied “you never know when you'll need to hunker down”

Once they had gathered their supplies, they returned home, the wind howling even louder now, rattling the windows and shaking the doors. They unloaded the groceries, their movements efficient and practiced. It was during these moments of domesticity that they found solace, a reprieve from the chaos that often defined their professions.

As the evening wore on, the snow continued to fall in thick, heavy sheets, blanketing everything in a soft, white cocoon. They settled in for what they thought would be a cozy night, the flickering glow of the fireplace casting dancing shadows on the walls. Kelly pulled out a deck of cards, and they played a few rounds of their favorite game, but as the clock ticked toward midnight, the atmosphere shifted. The wind howled louder and the snow piled higher against the windows. YN glanced out the front door

“I think we're officially snowed in” she said with a sigh before shutting the door again to keep the warmth in

“Looks that way” Kelly replied. As the night went on Kelly paced the living room, his firefighter instincts kicking in “ I should check the radio, see if there are any updates” as she tuned the radio, static crackled before a voice broke through the noise ‘severe weather warning in effect. Please stay indoors and avoid travel unless absolutely necessary. Emergency services are on standby’

The message was cut off by a burst of static, but the gravity of the situation was clear. Kelly turned to YN, his heart racing

“What if someone needs us? what if there's a fire or an accident?”YN reached for his hand

“We'll be ready. We always are. And if worst comes to worse, we'll figure it out together”

The warmth of her touch calmed him, but a knot of anxiety tightened in his stomach. They were both trained to handle emergencies, but the reality of being snowed in weighed heavily on his mind. The storm had transformed from a mere inconvenience to a looming threat, and with each passing hour, the walls felt as if they were closing in

“Hey” Kelly said softly breaking the silence “do you ever think about what happens when we're not at work?”

“What do you mean?” YN frowned

“I mean... we face emergencies every day. But what about us? what happens when we're not in the line of duty? do we know how to handle that?” YN considered his words

“I think we handle it the same way we handle everything else together”

As the fire crackled and the storm continued Kelly and YN faced the night together.

[blood-red-ocean]

It's been a while since I did an unhinged headcanon so here's what I imagine would be in each RL character's bag/backpack/pockets ✨

Miranda

- Poison. Either concealed in one of those old timey capsule rings or in a little bottle à la Emperor's New Groove.

- Paperwork. More specifically, expulsion paperwork already filled out except for the name section which she would fill out any time she was displeased.

- Some crow feathers. Whether it's from Cornelius getting nosey or Miranda being sentimental, nobody knows.

- Pictures of Eva and of MC.

- I feel like she'd also be the type to have a fountain pen in her handbag too.

Alcina

- One of those poseable wood doohickeys. You know the ones.

- Her signature perfume. And maybe a rose. And a tube of lipstick.

- A brochure of local wine tastings, and also a bunch of brochures from her theatres.

- She would probably have a Polaroid nude of MC stretched out on a chaise lounge tbh.

- Something to represent each of her daughters. A little trinket, perhaps.

Donna

- A book on herbology which is tattered and yellowed, the spine barely keeping the pages together.

- Her notebook with her order ledger and her own sketches and scribbles.

- A travel mug of herbal tea that she brewed herself.

- A little bag of dried flower petals and herbs.

- Her gardening gloves.

- I also believe that Angie would've gotten her a very small plushie of a plant that she takes everywhere with her.

Angie

- At LEAST twenty seven of those little travel sized alcohol bottles. Every time she takes a step, there's a clinking sound.

- Painkillers.

- A small, much less tattered copy of the herbology book that Donna has, but every page has a dried flower within it.

- In a secret pocket, there is a very small folded up picture of her mother.

Bela

- She doesn't carry a bag with her, it's not practical.

- Though if she did, she would probably just fill it full of office supplies.

- Maybe little things that made her remember her heart was beneath layers upon layers of numbness. The skull of a mouse, a four leaf clover, a small plushie.

Cassandra

- Its ✨the backpack✨ that she takes to dates' houses/dorms.

- Also like a billion of those little coffee machine capsules.

- An old takeaway cup.

- A stack of pieces of paper with phone numbers on them, just in case.

- A wrench, just in case.

Daniela

- TECH DECKS. SO MANY TECH DECKS.

- And like fifteen sticky hand things that she can use to hold MC's hand from a distance.

- Also a rag for when she gets sweaty.

- A skating magazine and a book on constellations.

- Also a book about theatre and some brochures for when she tries to connect with Alcina.

Mia

- Knives.

- So many knives.

- Empty her backpack out? Knives.

- Turn her upside down and shake her by the ankles? Knives.

- Look under her tongue and tell her to say 'ah'? Probably a tiny knife in there too.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Hate you so much.

Room Service

No warnings. Please leave some feedback if you like this tasty helping of Mr. Pine.

Your phone jitters as you use your hip to close the cab door. You would be annoyed that the driver wasn’t there to do it himself but the days of men opening doors or helping you with your bags are far behind. You roll your suit case across the pavement as you push your thumb across the screen. As you do, your purse falls off the rolling bag and hits the ground. 

You hold back a growl as you focus on the call, “yes, sir, I’ve just arrived at the hotel. The delay was not long at all.” 

You cradle the phone with your shoulder and cheek and bend awkwardly to pick up your purse. Oof, not a good idea. Your knee throbs in protest. 

“Not to worry. I only wanted to be sure you were sorted. The conference will be tomorrow and you’ll need a good night’s sleep,” he insists. 

You could sigh in agitation. Mr. Pine isn’t the worse boss you’ve had, and you have many to compare to. He is the most considerate but it does grow overbearing. You’re older than him. You can well handle yourself as much as you handle his business. 

“Oh, trust me, it’s my priority too.” You assure him as you stand and refrain from grunting at the pang behind your shoulder. 

“Well, don’t waste any more time. Make sure you are well-rested,” he insists. “And again, thank you for coming all this way.” 

“My job, sir.” 

You hang up and regain your balance. You drag your bag up to the hotel doors as your handbag slides to the crook of your elbow, and you grip your phone tight as the automatic doors open before you. At least they see you. 

You cross the lobby to the desk and try to shrug away your agitation. You’re not the girl who could drink off jetlag in the hotel bar anymore. You need a hot bath, or maybe even some ice. 

“Hello, checking in,” you slide your phone into your purse and trade it for your passport, “here you are. Thank you.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” the front desk clerk takes your ID and types on her slender keyboard. “Ah, yes, your suite is ready. I’ve held a key for you.” 

You hesitate at that statement. Yes, that is a hotel works. They have a key ready. Don’t. She is doing her job, well, mind you. You accept the keycards and your passport. 

“Oh, and ma’am, happy birthday,” she smiles brightly. Travelers must adore that look. 

You hesitate then look at your handful. Of course. She read your birthdate. You try to smile. “Thank you. That’s... lovely. Have a good evening. I hope no one gives you trouble. I was once in the same place as you.” 

“Thank you,” she chimes. “Enjoy your stay.” 

You make your way up to the suite swiftly. You don’t tarry in the hallway as you stifle a yawn. A glass of wine, no more, or you’ll be assured an even bigger headache than the altitude already blessed you with. 

You approach the door with the number that matches your key and as you swipe, the door opens from within. Oh, no. Of course, it was too easy. She gave you the wrong--  

“Mr. Pine?” You utter in shock. “Apologies, I must’ve been given--” 

“None needed. Surprise. Happy Birthday,” he sweeps his arm back and holds the door open as he angles parallel to the wall. You peer past him into the room. You see a bottle of wine and tall box. 

“Happy Birthday?” You echo. “How...” 

“I wouldn’t forget,” he grins. 

Right. Always a bouquet on your desk but this year, you don’t have a desk for that. You try not to let your disappointment show. You were entirely prepared to be alone. Looking forward to it even. 

“This is wonderful, Mr. Pine. Unexpected to say the least,” you say. 

“Please. I must admit, I love surprises and I’ve been waiting,” he intones as he beckons you in. 

You enter and your bag bounces against your heel painfully. You withhold a sneer. The whole world is working against you. Or maybe you just can’t keep up. 

“Do you know that there is more than one special occasion?” Pine asks as he reaches around you to grab the handle of your suitcase. 

“The conference is tomorrow...” 

“You’re amusing. Business-minded as ever. No, it has been ten years.” 

“Ten...” 

“Since you began. Do you recall?” He smirks. It feels taunting even though you know it isn’t. 

“Right, time does go by,” you say. Yes, then he was the young upstart who happened to be your boss. It hasn’t changed all that much. A few more lines around his eyes but age does look better on him. 

“What kind of boss would I be if we didn’t celebrate?” He leaves your bag by the wall, “come, I’ve got sparkling wine and...” he goes to the box and lifts it, unveiling three tiers, “cake.” 

“A lot of cake,” you remark. One bite will go straight to the cottage cheese in your thighs. 

“Leftovers. We have a whole week, yes?” 

Don’t remind me, you think dryly. 

“I don’t usually have dessert on an empty stomach,” you say. 

“Well, we have wine to wash it down,” he takes the bottle again and pops the cork. You suck back a sigh. He’s so nice it makes you want to throttle him. He’s your boss, sweetie. Reel it in. 

“Thank you,” you watch him pour a glass as you set down your purse. 

“I was uncertain of what you prefer but white is always refreshing,” he offers you the glass. 

You take it and hold it in front of you. He fills one for himself as you watch. He raises it to give cheers. You humour him and peek at the bed. How you wish you could fall into it face first. 

You taste the fizzy wine. It’s more expensive than the stuff you get. Another birthday, ten years at the same job, you feel the years flowing with the alcohol. 

“It’s to your tastes?” He wonders. 

“I never complain for free wine. Especially after a long flight,” you scoff. 

“Please, don’t let me infringe upon your relaxation,” he says. 

“I’m fine,” you assure him. “I’m more worried about you. You have a presentation.” 

“I could give it in my sleep,” he waves you off. 

“Right. Well...” you pace around and sip. 

“May I confess something?” He asks. 

You stop and face him again. “Should I fear termination? I think I’ve aged out of the job market.” 

He laughs, “no, quite the opposite. I value you, you’re a wonderful assistant but you are too fine an asset to keep to myself as such. I require a night manager.” 

“Night manager... but you--” 

“Have acquired the hotel in my name. Salom has moved on. He does bore easily.” 

“Night manager,” you ponder the cake and wine. 

“You will have time to consider of course. This all is... not to convince you. It is a genuine gesture of appreciation.” 

You nod and finish the glass. “Excuse me.” 

You set the stemmed glass down and peer around. You strut to the bathroom and close yourself in. You’ve been holding it since the plane. You take your time, trying to clear your mind. Manager... that means dealing with people. More people. But it’s a promotion. And money. 

You wash your hands slowly and stare at your reflection. You’re not getting any younger, you might at least get richer. You shut off the tap and dry your hands. Another glance as you furrowing your brow at the mirror. 

These conferences are full of gross men in their overpriced suits who can’t keep their hands to themselves. They come to flirt with the pretty front desk clerks more than they come to listen to each other bawk about numbers. It is left to the crones like you to do the real work. 

You shake your head and emerge. At first, the room appears empty. You hesitate and look around, only to gasp and slip out of your left heel as it catches on the edge of the rug. You stare in shock at the sight draped across the hotel bed. 

Mr. Pine in not much at all. A small, immodest pair of white boxers. His long and formidable figure is corded with tight muscles and his eyes glimmer with trouble. You tilt your head. Speechless.  

“Mr. Pine.” 

“I think we are past formalities,” he purrs as he leans his head in his hand, his other trailing down his body as if to emphasize its perfection. “It is your night, darling. I am yours as well.”