#and black smoky makeup yes? i think so

[acebytaemin]

when my car is at the mechanic part of my soul is missing. Anyway what should i wear to see grace jones tonight

[miguelsslvt]

miguel o'hara x goth girl! spider! reader smut drabble

word count: 756

TW: nsfw, smut, overstimulation, y/n gets fucked dumb, creampie, fingering, spanish translated from google translate so it isn't very good i'm so sorry. and also it isn't exactly stated that y/n is 'goth', it's literally just heer style and i hate it sm that i write it like that i'm so sorry.

A/N: so basically i got requested to do a college au! goth girl x reader but i didn’t read the ‘college’ bit and i got a bit carried away so… here’s the shitty goth spider! reader whilst i try writing the college au!! anyways two posts in one night?? ahh! this is severely unedited and not even proofread, so i hope i did okay! i can always rewrite if you don't like it:). also i love doing requests so much, so pls give me more! welcome to the club! ^^

you were a smart girl. well, smart enough to notice the looks miguel gave you everytime you walked around spider society wearing your favourite black dress and fishnets. and you would be lying to yourself if you said the attention didn't make your legs tighten in anticipation.

you had your eyes on miguel since the first time you laid eyes on him when he recruited you. was it your everlasting hunger for male validation? maybe. was it the way his fingers flicked through tab to tab on his platform? most likely. was it the hunger you noticed in his eyes when he trailed his eyes along your figure? absolutely. that's why on the day you were supposed to come to miguel for 'monthly anomaly reports', you made sure to wear the short black skirt and fishnets you knew that would miguel drool. what? just because you were pretty didn't mean you were stupid.

after a beautiful walk around the graveyard near your home, placing some flowers on some empty graves, you decided to go back to the spider HQ, playing your favourite band, 'bauhaus'.

'spider goth. miguel would like you in his office.' your watch alarmed, as your smiled at lyla, nodding. before you walked into the office room, you made sure to fix your eyeliner so it didn't look too 'smoky' but smoky enough. you fixed your silver necklaces in place, as you walked in. 'yes miguel?'

fuck, that voice. miguel thought. he turned around slightly to take in your body. god, he could feel his dick twitch from just the sight of you. was it even normal to feel this way? 'sir? you seem a little.. distracted.' you said, tilting your head slightly. he smirked. if miguel was completely honest, he knew you knew how he felt about you. and the fact that you still continue to wear such provocative clothing around him, and the fact that you always give him that 'innocent' smile of yours was enough for him to know you enjoyed the attention.

'oh i think we both know why i'm distracted, spider goth-' 'y/n.' you cut him off. he seemed a bit taken aback. 'excuse me?' he asked. 'for you, it's y/n, sir.' you replied, walking up to his platform, your skirt riding up slightly as you sat on his desk.

god, he could take you right there. so he did.

✩★✩★✩★✩★✩★✩

'm-miguel!~' you moaned, eyes rolling back as he kept hitting that sweet spot inside you. your back was arched against the desk, as his hands held your hips roughly. your eyeliner and makeup was ruined, all over your cheeks as they were filled with tears. your fishnets were ruined, as your skirt was hitched up just above your ass, as miguel groaned in relief.

'god you don't know how long i've wanted this.. mi niña bonita~' he cooed, smirking as you gasped for air, holding onto the desk. (my pretty girl)

you had lost count on how many times miguel made you cum in just one hour, but right now you couldn't care. your legs were numb, mind was fuzzy and you could swear you were seeing stars. you fucked out dizzy expression urged miguel further, chasing both of your highs.

'g-god m-miguel g-gonna c-cum again..!' you moaned loudly, as miguel leaned closer to your ear, moving your jaw so he could see your dumb face.

you were drooling, crying, your hair and makeup was a mess. and mguel didn't think you could get any more prettier then this. god, and the way you clenched and gaped around him made him cum almost instantly. but he would wait. 'cum for me, that's it.. jodido tan tonto que ni siquiera puedes pensar, ¿verdad?' he teased, as he thrusts became sloppy once again. (fucked so dumb you can't even think, right?)

you reached you peak, letting out a loud gasp, as miguel held your jaw,his nose in your neck as he whispered to you. 'thaat's it.. that's my girl.. there you go..' he praised, prolonging your orgasm for as long as possible as he let his load in you.

it was alot, as you came down from your high, panting for air. miguel groaned as he pulled out, leaving a string of his cum and your juices out. he just let a deep breath, tutting. 'ay.. no.. mi dulce chica.. you're supposed you keep it inside. looks like i'm gonna have to plug it back in.' miguel said, sticking his finger inside you, making you squeal in overstimulation. (my sweet girl)

'let's take care of the mess you made, yeah?' he cooed, as you nodded mindlessly. there was one thing miguel will never admit, though.

and that's miguel likes it messy.

♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎

[latin5mamii]

Angel -Jude Bellingham

|WARNINGS: none |AUTHOR'S NOTE:I'm loving this fanfic😭 Previous part |SUMMARY:How could you know that a stupid nickname could change everything?

You couldn’t stop thinking about the date,which wasn’t really a date actually.That word never escaped his lips and you knew that this was just a casual meeting with your best friend, that’s all.You spent the whole day thinking about a good outfit,which wasn’t easy, of course.

You didn’t want to appear too elegant but also not too much casual,so you decided for a mini skirt and an embroidered black top,your favorite heels that weren’t too high, you weren’t a really tall girl, just right in the middle, but a pair of heels wouldn’t hurt anyone, he would still be higher than you;you then thought about wavy hair and some makeup. You then added the right amount of jewelry and surely you couldn’t forget your favorite perfume, now you’re finally ready and a texts lets your phone vibrate.

Jude:You ready?I’m here

You felt your heart racing and your cheeks becoming hotter, it’s just a normal date, right?

:Yes i’ll be out there in a second

You gave yourself a last look at the mirror and you felt a sense of joy and butterflies in your stomach.You didn’t care if it was a date or not, you only wanted to be with him honestly.

As you slid into Jude's car, the radio pulsed with the rhythm of "Eyes Without a Face." The haunting melody, with its lyrics about a love unseen, seemed to echo the unspoken desires swirling between you. You stole a glance at Jude, finding him already looking at you, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips.

"So," he finally spoke, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine, "where would you like to go, Angel?"

The nickname, a relic of your childhood, brought a warmth to your cheeks. "There's this great little jazz bar downtown," you suggested, surprised at your own boldness. "They have live music and amazing food."

A slow smile, genuine and heart-stopping, spread across Jude's face. "Perfect. I know just the place."

The drive was a whirlwind of comfortable silences punctuated by playful banter. You told him about your favorite childhood prank, and he countered with a story about a disastrous attempt to impress a girl with his soccer skills. When he chuckled at your teasing about his youthful clumsiness, a playful glint lit up his eyes.

"You know," he said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "you could have saved me a lot of trouble back then if you'd just let me impress you instead."

You scoffed, but a blush crept up your neck. "Impress me? With what, tripping over your own shoelaces?"

He feigned offense, clutching his chest dramatically. "Hey! Those were some fancy footwork maneuvers gone wrong."

By the time you pulled up to the jazz bar, tucked away on a quiet side street, laughter lines had etched themselves around your eyes. The smoky intimacy of the place, with its thrumming melody and warm candlelight, felt like stepping into a bygone era.

The hostess, a woman with a knowing smile and a mane of silver hair, greeted Jude by name. "Jude! Good to see you again. We've saved you a booth in the back."

He winked at you, a silent promise of a private corner. The booth, nestled against a brick wall adorned with photographs of jazz legends, was bathed in a warm glow. You settled in, feeling an electricity crackle in the air.

The menu, presented on a worn leather-bound cover, promised a delectable array of dishes. As you debated your options, you caught Jude stealing glances at your outfit.

"That top is amazing," he said, his voice a low murmur. "The embroidery is beautiful."

You felt a blush creep up your neck again. "Thanks," you mumbled, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "Actually, my mom gave it to me."

He raised an eyebrow playfully. "Your mom has impeccable taste. See, even without shoelaces, I manage to impress sometimes."

With every playful jab and shared secret, the tension between you crackled. It was a tension that mirrored the song playing softly in the background, a song that spoke of love and longing, a perfect reflection of your own unspoken feelings.

When dessert arrived, a decadent chocolate mousse that Jude insisted you share with him, a playful tug-of-war ensued over the spoon. Laughter filled the air as you both ended up with chocolate smeared on your smiles.

"Gotcha," Jude chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

You swiped a bit of chocolate from his cheek with your thumb, savoring the warmth of his touch. "Seems like the only one getting impressed tonight is me, Mr. Soccer Star."

A playful glint lit up Jude's eyes as he leaned in, his voice dropping to a husky whisper that sent shivers down your spine. "Well, Angel," he murmured, "consider this round one. There's plenty of time for you to get even more impressed later."

The heat in his gaze flustered you, and you quickly looked down at the lingering chocolate on your fingers. You knew you should probably steer the conversation back to safe territory, but the playful banter felt exhilarating, a stark contrast to the nervous energy that had simmered between you earlier.

Just then, the melody shifted, the smoky saxophone giving way to a sultry female vocalist. The lyrics, filled with promises of forever and declarations of burning love, hung heavy in the air. You stole a glance at Jude, wondering if the song mirrored the unspoken emotions swirling within him too.

"This song reminds me of something," he said, his voice a low rumble.

A nervous flutter took flight in your stomach. "Oh yeah? What's that?"

He leaned back in the booth, a thoughtful expression on his face. "There was this girl, back when we were just kids, who used to climb trees and get stuck. The same girl who'd get mad at her brother for calling her Angel."

His words sent a jolt through you. A playful smile tugged at the corner of your lips. "Sounds like someone has a good memory."

"The best," he replied, his gaze locking with yours. "Especially the memory of how brave she was, and kind, and beautiful..." He paused, his voice trailing off, leaving the rest unspoken.

The air crackled with unspoken tension, the weight of his words hanging heavy between you. You felt your cheeks burning under his intense gaze. Was he confessing his childhood feelings for you? Or was he simply reminiscing?

Before you could voice the question that burned on your tongue, the music swelled, drowning out any further conversation. The vocalist launched into a powerful rendition of a classic love ballad, its lyrics echoing the yearning in your own heart.

Jude reached across the table, his fingers brushing against yours. A spark shot through you as your eyes met. In that silent moment, a million unspoken emotions hung in the air. The playful banter, the stolen glances, the lingering touches - it all seemed to culminate in this single, electrifying moment.

With a hesitant smile, Jude squeezed your hand gently. "Dance with me, Angel?" he asked, his voice a soft murmur.

Your heart pounded a frantic rhythm against your ribs. This wasn't how you imagined the night would end, but a thrilling anticipation bubbled within you. You couldn't deny the pull you felt towards him, a connection that transcended years of friendship.

With a shy smile, you nodded, allowing him to lead you to the small dance floor tucked away in a corner of the bar. The intimacy of the space, coupled with the soulful melody filling the air, created a bubble around you two.

Jude held you close, his hand resting possessively on your lower back. You could feel the warmth of his body against yours, his cologne sending a familiar scent swirling around you. As you swayed to the music, a comfortable silence settled between you, a comfortable silence that spoke volumes.

The song ended all too soon, the applause of the other patrons breaking the spell. Yet, as you looked into Jude's eyes, you saw a reflection of the same yearning you felt burning within you.

The late-night jazz bar felt a world away now, replaced by the soft glow of the city lights filtering through the car windows. Jude navigated the familiar streets with practiced ease, a comfortable silence settling between you.

The unspoken tension in the air thrummed with a different kind of energy now – a hopeful anticipation for what might lie ahead. You stole a glance at Jude, his profile illuminated by the passing streetlights. His lips were curved in a thoughtful smile, and you couldn't help but wonder if it mirrored the one playing on your own lips.

As he pulled up in front of your apartment building, a pang of disappointment shot through you. The night had flown by, and the thought of saying goodbye so soon felt unbearable.

Taking a deep breath, you turned to him, your voice barely a whisper.

"Would you like to come in?" you blurted out, surprised by your own boldness.

His eyes widened in surprise, then a slow smile spread across his face. "I'd like that very much, angel."

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

[cherrybomblust]

Simon Riley X Goth!reader

What’s a deal?

Notes~ haven’t wrote smut in a while, probably is going to be bad bUT GOD I needa write for this man. Also not proofread so my apologies.

Tags-Simon x f!reader, NSFW, unprotected sex, piv, rouuughh sex, possessive! Simon, facefuck, deep throating bro is needy!, cum kissing, degradation, praise, kinda sub Simon, hair pulling, slight choking,clothing kink, fishnet tights kink, MEN WEARING EYELINER KINK,Orgasm denial, running makeup kink, Creampie, Unmasked! Simon= established relationship. Mommy used once as a joke:p

“Please please please” you beg, gripping your eyeliner pen for dear life. All he does is rolls his eyes, shaking his head, with a small smirk on his soft lips. “ I’ll do anything for you please, you know you’ll look so fucking good” you continue, pouting like a child, near about to throw a tantrum over this man not letting you paint his lids. “Anything you want” . You continue on, not giving up, no matter how many times he shakes his head and calls it ridiculous. You NEED this. “We got a deal?” You say with a cheeky little smile on your face.

“Fine but as you said anything I want. A deal for a deal doll” he says with a gruff tone, slightly cranking his head back as you squeal. Without a single second of hesitation you’re pushing his head back against the cushion, sitting down onto his lap and telling him to stay calm, not blink and don’t dare move. “Alright goth mommy” he replies back with, earning a grimace from you.

You start by creating small wings, then smudging under his eye, creating a smokiness that make his eyes pop. Blending up into his thick eyebrows, taking note of the small scar that creates a slit. Fuck he’s hot. Is all you can think.

You start to notice the way his eyes follow you, dart between your lips, your eyes, then down to your tits. As always. I mean could you blame him? Wearing the lowest cut top you owned, your pink bra with black skulls peaking out. His favourite. He noticed this as you pushed yourself forward to grab your brushes from the table, your cleavage just directly eye to eye with him. “Such a pretty girl” he whispers to “himself”, of course you heard it, he wanted you to.

You sit back down onto his lap, instantly feeling the hardness of his cock through his utility pants, glad he feels the exact same way as you. from the minute you started adorning his eyes with black, you felt that hotness in your lower tummy, the slick that began to form making your Panties stick to your skin. You wanted him in every shape and form, that’ll never change.

The next thing you know you’re on your knees, with his thick cock down your throat. spit dripping down your chin, to your chest and down your tits. His veiny hands wrapped within your locks as he guides you up and down, making sure to hold you down so he can feel the way your throat tries to accommodate to his size. His deep groans, quite but effective, you feel yourself drip every single time he lets one out.

“Such a good girl, letting me train this throat” he says as he picks up the pace, loving the choked moans that leave you. “Don’t ya wish this was your little cunt getting fucked”. You wanted to scream yes but with your mouth being occupied, you quickly nod your head as you pull up Taking a gulp of air before back down. Your doe eyes staring back up into his, the eyeliner is really doing something to you.

The aching in your cunt was becoming too much to handle, second by second it was turning into pure agony, your cunt clenched around nothing and your clit throbbed. You quickly ran your hand down your tummy, slipping underneath your skirt and fishnets, fortunately no panties. You couldn’t help but let out the most slutty choked whine as your fingers came into contact with your swollen bud, circling the sweet bundle of nerves. His sultry words and grunts spurring you on.

“Use your fingers ya slut, can’t even resist from touching yourself. Dirty girl” Simon watches as your eyes squeeze shut as you fuck your fingers, your eyeliner running down your cheeks and your black lipstick smudged.

As Simon continued to have his way with your throat, you feel the heat rising, that familiar sensation bubbling in your gut. You need it, you yearn for it. Pathetically grinding away at your own hand, chasing that high, loving the way your throat is aching from being pounded into. Simons grunts now turning into soft whines, he always gets so subby when he’s about to cum. “Please please take me please pretty girl” he spurs on and on until he’s finishing down your throat, the warm saltiness over riding your senses. You feel the soft twitches of his final release before he lets you go, keeping a hand entwined in your hair to bring your lips to his. His tongue ramming down your already abused throat, like he’s craving to taste himself, softly moaning into your mouth.

You continue to pump your fingers into yourself, the unholy sounds of squelching fill the room mixed with your sweet sounds. God you’re so close, right there. Right there.

And that’s ripped from you as Simon’s hand meets your wrist, pulling your hand from your swollen cunt, you whine at the empty feeling. At the feeling of your high slowly dying out like a candle being blown out and the ache replacing that euphoric feeling.

“You’re cumming on my cock doll” he growls, pulling you up from the floor, your knees aching and red. Within a second you’re bent over the back of the couch, your skirt adorned with crosses pulled down and your fishnet tights ripped just enough to create a hole between your thighs. “Fucking look at ya, such a little slag for Me, not even wearing any panties. Just begging to be pounded hm?” Before you can reply, the wind is knocked from your lungs and your mouth falls agape. His cock filling you up, hitting that gooey spot inside that has your knees bending. You can’t even stop the filthy sounds that leave your lips, you sound like a right cock drunk whore.

“That’s it, open up for me, let me take what I own” he growls, slightly out of breath as he pounds you into the couch. Sure there’s gonna be a dent of you in it. You feel his hand wrap around your throat, pulling you against his back, hitting you deeper than imaginable. You’re made for him, nobody else will ever be able to make you feel this way. “You’re mine, ya hear that slut. Nobodies taking you away from me” all you can do is reply in a high pitched whine. The coil in your stomach finally tightening up again, it’s only a matter of time until it’s unraveling.

Just as if he reads your mind, his other hand coming down to rub small circles on your sensitive bundle of nerves “cum on your cock doll, this is yours, you own me” and that’s all it takes. His sinful words, his thick cock pumping you, fingers pressing on your clit. you feel like you’re on fire, like this is your heaven, where you belong. Your legs shake, pathetic whines turn into screams as you dig your fingernails into the cushions under you.

You feel Simon’s hand grip your throat as his hips stutter, a raspy whine leaving his throat as he bottoms out and fills your pussy full of his cum. You let your head fall forward as exhaustion consumes you, your legs feel like jelly and your puffy cunt already aches. “Such a good little cumslut ay” he hums as he rubs your back, chuckling at the sight of you folded over the back of your couch. All fucked out, cum dripping down your tights.

“A deals a deal doll face”

[alastorsfuckassbob]

Killing Me Softly- 4

AlastorxFem!Reader part 4

A/N: Ok so this is..uh LONG but its finally here!!! Val's text is in purple, yours is in blue, and Alastor's is red! As always bolded portions are the past..Yes I did revert to using another song sue me. As always: MINORS DNI

Plot: Valentino is a piece of shit You and Al are so shitty at feelings and communication..thats basically it.

⚠️Warnings:⚠️

-Sexual innuendos (they aren't graphic but they are spicy)

-Domestic abuse (this got a lot worse so please be mindful of that and use your own discretion- you are responsible for your internet consumption)

-Alcohol use AND abuse

-Violence!! ~mentions of blood~

-A LOT of cursing 🤠

 You had decided to take “small nap” to rid your body of the final remnants of exhaustion from night before. That so called “small nap” somehow lasted a good ten hours, leaving you with only two before you needed to arrive at the club again. You sat on the edge of your bathroom counter, the excess silky fabric of your slip cascading over the edge. You grab a stray eyeshadow pallet and begin to apply your makeup. You had decided on an inky toned smoky eye and a lightly lined liquid lip. It was a bit different from your usual look, but it complemented your new wardrobe perfectly. You glanced over at the folded scarlet fabric, excited to wear it again. 

You had decided to get ready at home today. Angel wasn’t working tonight, so there was no sense in being at the club earlier than you really needed to be. You snapped your fingers, and the shadow behind you began to style your h/c hair in his place. It wasn’t often Angel didn’t have to work on a Saturday night. Even in Hell, weekends came with higher foot traffic. Val insisted he had earned a break after yesterday’s long shoot. It was a rare occasion but not entirely out of character. Val couldn’t break his favorite toy.

After a few more pins, the shadow dawned a bright smile and jazz hands upon completing your hair. You looked absolutely gorgeous, the pitch black entity had done a fantastic job. Your hair was twisted into bouncy side swept curls adorned with tiny sparkling gems. You wanted to meticulously appreciate the effort it had so graciously put in, but your guilt riddled conscience kept you from any real form of enjoyment. 

 You needed to stop thinking of him. The more you let yourself fall back on memory, the more you would love him. The more you loved him ,the more it would hurt when he realized he couldn’t love you anymore. It wasn’t his fault, no one could. This was your penance. It wasn’t supposed to be easy. 

Memory had sunk its claws into your wrist. It hopelessly dragged you along by its blood lined chains and scarlet stained fingertips like an old desperate beggar. The hold Valentino had on your soul was insubstantial in comparison to the grasp Alastor had on your heart. You didn’t understand why that was. Val was your whole life, and he would be until eternity itself figured out a way to die.  It would make sense for him to reside in the core of your thought, but he didn’t, he never stayed there long.

 Unlike Alastor,  Val owned you. 

Unlike Alastor, he was there 

Unlike Alastor, 

you could actually feel his lips on your skin.

He had a predictable consistency to him. It was always the same constant battle between his unquenchable hatred and guilty heart. 

Val  insisted he “loved” you in his own way.  From the shackles on your wrists, he had tied you to the stake-All so that he could look for your love. He struck the match against your skin, and lit you both ablaze because he hated that he wanted it. In the end it would never matter how many times the heat touched your skin, it wasn’t going to feel like love.      

You knew what that was supposed to feel like. You had shared your heart with a great many souls in your time on Earth. Love was bathed in forgiveness and brushed with magnolia petal kisses. That love didn’t see you through eyes lined with antagonism, sparkled with fury and blended out with shades of exasperation.

 Valentino did. 

His lips were colored in hot pink brutality. It would smear across your skin with every kiss. He would leave you haloed in messy lipstick stain bruises and be on his way.

 His absence never lasted long. The color in his cheeks was permanently rouged with the lethality of your figure. Eventually, the guilt would seep through his pores, and the chemical reaction would wash his face of your blood. He would return with a silver plated tin bracelet and a few mangled words of affirmation. 

“ Y/n, you know I love you. I didn’t mean a word of it Mi Amore. You are the most beautiful demon this side of hell. I just get so upset sometimes there’s nothing else I can do. I can’t control my anger Amorcito, you know that.”

It’s not that he couldn’t control his anger, he was fully capable. He just didn’t. He never thought it was important to try. Even in his time on Earth, he didn’t care to put forth the effort. He was born with distain and died with detestation. He had always been this way. The guilt he felt afterward would never amount to the freedom found in his bloodied hands. There wasn't a finite limit to the apologies he could patch the holes he punched into your heart with. In the end, it wouldn’t matter. Any remorse he felt would slip from his conscience like every instance before it. It made sense how quickly he was able to rise into over lord status.

  Your focus shifts to the cherry fabric folded beside of you. You haphazardly grab the dress, lifting it over your head. Its crystal beads babbling in your ear as you slide it on. For a moment, the ghost of your human body silhouettes your demonic figure in the mirror.  Distant memories began to bubble up to the surface. In the true spirit of avoidance, you hopelessly shut them out as you grabbed your satin purse and walked out the door. 

As you left the building the newly warmed breeze swirled through your hair. The sunny weather practically lifting your wings for you as you flew towards the club. You reveled in the distance it granted you from your life. From the above clouds, Hell was actually rather pretty. The seemingly dull color scheme found a bit more variation the higher you flew. The different areas of the city blending into one. With each flap of your wings, the clouds whispered murmurs of freedom into your ears. For just a moment, it almost didn’t feel like hell.

 The rest of the flight is relatively peaceful, excluding the occasional scream from the city below.  Eventually you arrive at the club and head to your dressing room. You plop down on the velvety plush sofa seated against the wall.  It was still a bit early for places, so you elected to read one of Angel’s trashy magazine to pass the time. A ginger knock at the door draws your focus from celebrity scandals and tv drama. 

“Amorcito”

Valentino’s voice worms itself into your ear. He leans against the door frame looking for any indication of fear on your face. He didn’t want to scare you off before he had the chance to explain himself. You shoot him a tired glare and return to your magazine. Even if you wanted to answer it’s not like you had the ability to.

“Right, I forgot.”  He muses, his smirk practically bleeding into his eyes. With a wave of his hand , the sigil on your wrist begins to spark in a hot pink glow. In a puff of smoke, your voice returns to you. 

“Do you need something Val” you ask.  It comes out a bit raspier than you had intended. Hopefully he didn't take it as a form of aggression. You had somehow landed yourself in his good graces, and you didn’t want to fall from them any sooner than you had to.  

“I can’t have you sitting silent for your dear clients now can I y/n?” 

You didn’t respond. Mentally, you rolled your eyes. The statement was laughable. He would tear your soul to pieces if he could hear the sarcasm racketing around your brain at the current moment. 

“Mi amor, you know I didn’t mean it. I can’t have my favorite muñeca upset with me, can I?” 

You stay silent. Your body still wept with the soreness of the night before, but he had come here with the expectation you would nurse his pride back to health.

“You know that I love you baby” His tone was permeated with an emotion you couldn't quite place. For the first time, the desperation on his face surpassed the bloodlust. It lacked his usual innuendos and crude curses. If you hadn't known better you might have believed he really did- yet something deep within you really did want to believe he could be good. Maybe he didn't love you but he did feel slightly sorry and maybe that would be enough. You stood up from the sofa and placed a hand on his shoulder. 

"I know you do Val. Don't worry about it" The words are sweet but the emotion behind them is entirely dead. His arm slinked around your waist, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips. 

"I want to thank you, for the dress. Its really beautiful. You have great taste” You added. Your hand layered on top of his, a gentle, but very obviously fake smile curving into your lips. Val loved compliments, the antennae on his forehead usually perked up whenever he received one. 

To your surprise, he started to laugh, his shoulders shaking in its ferocity. “ Y/n you can’t be serious.” 

You didn’t really understand what was funny or why you were nervously laughing along with him. You didn’t have to know why, you just had to go along with it. If you had to guess, he was probably intoxicated in one way or another. Most of the other performers and employees constantly were on some level. It would make sense if he was too. “I’m almost insulted you would even pretend that I would put you in something that tacky, and not to mention conservative. I treat you better than that don’t I?” 

With that, you were even more confused..Did he not gift you the dress? Where the hell else would it come from?  You couldn't even begin to craft a response. You had to come up with something quickly, and improvisation(lying) was not your best skill. Your mind darted from one lame excuse to another. You didn’t have time to think critically about it you just had to say something.

“Yeah I thought it would be a funny joke, I agree it is a bit old fashioned, It definitely needs a little update..I liked the color though.” You lied straight through your teeth. It wasn't clear if he had bought into your practically incoherent rambling. As all good liars do, you dug the hole a few feet deeper with a few more details to seal the deal.  “I wasn’t sure how to alter it so I thought I’d ask you for your opinion”. 

Even if the excuse was lame, it covered all the bases. 

“In my opinion we shred it”  His quiet laugh sounded egotistical to say the least. If something or someone didn't fit his taste he saw no reason why it should exist.

Disappointment drapes your frame from the tips of your horns to the bottom of your heels. Even if the dress had apparently spawned from some freaky stalker, you really did like it. 

“Are you sure I couldn’t just wear it as it is for one night? I could add a slit or something for the next time "Hope laced your bargain as you spoke. You knew he would probably say no but you couldn't help but ask. 

“Y/n, Baby, as hot as I think you look in anything. This dress is going to need some serious alterations if you expect to wear it in front of our rowdy crowd. I can't let you go out there dressed like a nun, it would be awful for business” His face twists into a sly sneer. An idea bubbled on the surface of his thoughts.Before you can register what is happening, his hands are tracing the outline of your hips. Each separated claw of his fingers ran down your body until they stopped just above the outer edge of each thigh. On the surface the action didn't exhibit his typically harmful nature, but if you dared to look even a fraction of an inch closer you would see its minatory subtext. 

“Don’t worry, I think we can figure out something simple out for tonight”. His fingers draw together into a unified line. He digs his nails in a little deeper into you as he drags them down your leg until they reach the floor. He had effectively sliced a high slit on both sides of the dress, with little to no effort. He had pushed a little too deeply in some areas, small pricks of blood leaked from a few irregularly shaped scratches in consequence.

“You look like perfection in red baby”, he breaths out. He stayed crouched on the floor for a moment. You couldn’t tell if he was admiring the surprisingly straight lines of his work or the dots of blood that speckled your skin. He takes your hand in his and places a wet kiss on your wrist where the sigil had been burned into your skin. 

“I can’t wait to see you shine tonight Amorcito” 

He kissed up your arm as he rose from the floor. The way his tongue slithered around your forearm made you dreadfully uncomfortable. The feeling was slimy and otherwise indescribable. You were almost grateful you didn’t have the words to describe your disgust so that the feeling would die with you instead of being passed around to others by language.

You were eternally grateful when he finally walked through the exit. He was finished with his fun with you, at least for now.The club had opened a little more than ten minutes ago. As its owner, he had an obligation to fulfill his duties (flirt with hot guys) ,and supervise the club floor (get blackout drunk and fuck aforementioned hot guys ). Val loved to watch as sinners got down and dirty in the corners of his dimly lit clubs. It was a bit of an ego boost to know he had helped create an environment that led to that sort of thing. He enjoyed the epigrammatic conversations and miscellaneous substance his customers brought with them. He was great at sharing when it came to things that weren’t his own. He loved to hear them praise his accomplishments, and disclose the desire they shared for him and his performers almost as he loved to get high. By the look of tonights crowd, he was in for another pleasurable evening, or so he thought. 

A curt laugh track interrupted the regularly scheduled cycle of conversation. Val’s head practically spun backwards upon noticing the deer eared demon lounging at the edge of the balcony. 

"What the fuck is he doing here" Val grunted under his breath.  He was supposed to be dead.

Alastor, apparently, never received the memo. He sat with a glass of indifferent whiskey in the VIP segment of the balcony above. He was fitted in a well cut vermilion pin stripe suit and a pair of wing tipped oxfords. Despite his polished exterior and perpetual smile, his eyes were glossed in boredom. 

The conversations of lower demons never really intrigued him, they didn't speak much about anything outside of the bounds of recreational drug use. He wasn’t ashamed to admit he had spent time in that particular circle back in his younger days. Perhaps it was the drastic change of aesthetic, or maybe the culture surrounding it had just shifted too much for his liking, but it just didn’t appeal to him anymore. Alastor found the environment dreadfully exhausting. The distinct loud bump of electronic base and synthesized beats made it hard to hear his own thoughts. He was in for a long boring night. There really wasn’t anything more for him to do than pass judgment on the tasteless decor. 

He looked around at the tacky overtly sexual paintings hung against the walls. It was one of Valentino’s classier clubs, but that doesn’t mean the interior designer wasn’t entirely delusional when they picked out its color pallet. For lack of a better word, it was just ugly. The Deep pinks and vibrant reds of the walls accented the white porcelain pillars that framed them. (Vaguely reminiscent of a tampon) The dark purple of the leathery chairs somehow blended in with the black marble tile in such a hideous way the word “unity” didn’t even begin to spark his mind. 

With the exception of its more intimate performance space and higher end clientele, it wasn’t that much different than the typical club experience Valentino provided. It still featured his usual sex rooms and coke lined tables, despite its overall calmer energy. Alastor didn’t understand how you ended up in a place like this. It didn’t seem like you. He had instructed the newest soul under his contract to follow you and figure out your daily routine and “basic facts of life”. He would never admit it, but he was mostly curious to learn of your relationship status. He wanted to know if you had gotten married or if you had moved on. He had been dead for years ,it would make sense if you had. He didn’t want to step back into your life unless he knew everything.He needed to know what approach would work best on you.  “Evidently” you weren’t just outwardly spouting that information into the hilltops. The poor soul came back with a list of two locations and not much else. Naturally, it didn’t get to live much longer. He was not a man to have his time wasted. If he wanted something done correctly the first time he should have just done it himself. So here he was, awaiting your performance.  

 Valentino walked across the crowded floor, his clenched fists glued to his sides. Alastor’s bored expression made his blood boil. He carelessly dodged dancing couples and trays of champagne in his quiet anger. Val never liked that old timey prick or his rickety dated voice. It grated his ears endlessly, not to mention he was just flat out annoying. If Val wanted to listen to some random lanky old man’s diet British accent and senseless uppity rambles;  he would have turned on Downton Abby or some other old pretentious shit. Each step he took towards the radio demon deepened the scowling smirk growing on his face. If Alastor was going to ever so nonchalantly seat him self and a glass of whiskey in the VIP section of HIS club, at least one of them going to have his fun with it. 

“I didn't take you to be a fan of my work Alastor, lovely to see you as always” Val slid into the booth across from him. The remaining groups still seated at the surrounding tables grabbed their drinks and found a better place to be. It was a well known fact the two of them weren’t friends 

“I am most decidedly not! however the streets of hell will not stop praising a certain canary singing on your steps, and I am by far intrigued" His eyed narrowed as his grin grew wider. 

“Oh really? It is my little siren you are interested in? Don’t let her pretty little face fool you, she’s a real bitch to work with. She thinks shes hot shit just because the sound of her voice is enough to chain any demon.” He feigned disinterest, flicking his nails to the side to observing their color.

“Oh really~Where ever did you find her? Surely if she is this talented I would have heard of her already"  Agitation seethed through Alastor's voice. He had never liked Valentino, he found his methods to be crude and unseemly. The way he spoke of you hazed Alastor's vision in permanent red. He had killed far greater demons for far less than the disrespect he had sent your way. However, he knew he couldn't act on that urge quite yet. He was on a mission. He needed to know more about why you were here first in the first place. No one here would know better than the sleazy club owner himself.

“ I don’t really think that’s your business" Valentino accused, venom dripping from his tongue. He didn't really care why the radio demon had taken such a fast interest in a lowly sinner like you. It didn't matter. It gave him something to work with. He had something he didn’t. Pride is a fickle thing, he could use this to get under his skin. 

He didn't want a physical altercation by any means, not in his own territory anyway. Vox would never let him live it down if he started a fight in his own club and accidentally tore it to the ground in the process. A verbal sparring session would have to do for now. Val loved starting any sort of argument he could conceive. 

"My little dove tends to shy away from the limelight. She used to do all of her performances behind a mask, but don’t you worry I was able to coax her out of it." (are you secretly the masked singer?? omg) "You'll be in for a wonderful show tonight." Pride overtook Valentino's usually mendacious features as he spoke. He had something Alastor didn't. Val wanted nothing more than to spark jealousy in his heart. Alastor, wasn't oblivious to his intentions, it just wasn't his primary focus. More-so, he felt frustrated with questions he couldn't ask. You couldn't have been in Hell for more than a few days. How many performances had you really had time for? The possibility you had existed down here for any longer than that didn't exist to him. 

"Now Valentino, there's no reason to be secretive, unless you have something to hide. Surely if this woman is as fantastic as you say she is, there is  no need to hide the details of her origin, I'm sure it must be quite the story"  A deceitful glimmer coruscated his smile, as he took another careless swig of whiskey. His pointed fingers gripped tighter around the glass, cracking its edge.

" Actually-it’s the opposite, trust me its not even worth mentioning” Val laughed. “Why not enjoy the present and focus on her current skillset a? Surely you must have seen her around somewhere, she’s a real star on film." His tone was maliciously sweet, but the dry rasp of his voice revealed the truth. A dark glint flashed in his eyes as he thought of your previous work. 

Getting information out of "barney the big purple pimp"  Valentino was going to be harder than Alastor had previously anticipated. Any information he might’ve had on you was under lock and key. At this point, he considered just ripping off Valentino's stupid little egg shaped head and calling it a day. He didn't understand what you saw in him or this dingy sweat stained bar. In your time on earth, the two of you had spent many nights dancing together in the speakeasies and glitzy clubs of New Orleans. This wasn't the type of establishment you would usually go in for. He had always known you to see the best in others, even if they so evidently didn't deserve it. You sharpened your sword for those you deemed worthy even if they despised you for it. If you were here it must meant you had seen something worth redemption within him. 

"You must be very proud of her accomplishments to rave on about her in this way" Alastor’s voice was fitted in the same snarky tone you often took with Valentino, but unlike you, he could tear the whole club apart with a snap of his fingers. Val didn’t want to deal with that, not here. He would have to wait and slit the radio demon's throat outside of his territory. 

"Enjoy the show Alastor.” He quipped promptly showing the conversation to its end. Valentino walked away before he could get in a word otherwise. 

Val didn’t know the nature of Alastor’s apparent attraction towards you, but he personally knew the pain desperately wanting something you couldn't have caused. Ironically, Alastor was the indirect cause of that familiarity. Through Valentino's partnership with Vox, obsession had sprouted.  Something about the way his televised voice distorted in anger drew him in. He had been caught on his snarky personality and quick wit almost as much as the pitiful reassurances the TV demon would occasionally throw his way. He knew the feelings he had amounted for Vox were never going to be reciprocated.  He would never look his way so long as the radio demon walked the streets of hell. Even if Valentino couldn’t bring about his revenge in his typical violent way, he was determined to get it. You were the key he didn’t know he had. After all, no sinner could resist the call of your sweet song or the appeal of your hips. The radio demon would be no different. 

Eventually, one of Val’s assistants called you to places. You walk through the backstage area, a trail of glittery red streaming behind you. You always loved the moment before the show began. It was typically quiet, everyone attended to their own business. They rarely stopped to bother you, it offered you a moment of order before the chaos this performance would plunge you into. You grab a sugar rimmed shot glass from underneath the bar cart left for the performers. You didn’t bother to read the labels on the bottle as you poured a heavy handed shot. As soon as the liquid touched your lips you realized it had been gin. Despite the burning in your throat, and the sour taste it left in your mouth, you refilled the glass a few more times. On some level, you felt guilty for the amount of alcohol you had just consumed.On a deeper level, you knew you couldn’t make it through a set without it. It was a means to an end, nothing more. 

 Valentino’s compulsion for revenge had led him towards the velvety amethyst curtains of the stage you stood behind. Whatever good mood he was in earlier had vanished, his disposition was dripped in murderous rage. He storms up to you, roughly taking your chin in his hand. 

“I don't fucking know why or how but the radio demon is here. You better make me look good-I’ve already throughly sung your praises and I will not be embarrassed in front of that shit head”  He paced as he spoke hostility following at his heels. “For some reason, he has taken an interest in you. I need you to give an extra little show to the balcony he’s seated in the center. Hes the lanky washed out red asshole with the bitchy little antlers, you can’t miss him.” The words he had spoken jumbled in your brain. You weren’t really paying attention, the calming aura of the alcohol had begun to hit your system. 

“I thought he was dead, are you sure it’s him?” you mumbled as you picked of the remaining sugar crystals from your glass. 

 You had briefly heard of the radio demon in your time-He hadn’t been around for years, most demons speculated that someone finally managed to kill him. He disappeared three years after your arrival in hell, but his methods left a lasting impression. The agonizing screams he had broadcasted still echoed in your dreams occasionally. However, despite your deeply rooted fear, you admired him on some level. He was clever to say the least, and his morals weren’t entirely questionable either. He thought dealing in cheaper souls was crass and frankly unnecessary. He left weaker demons alone, unless they stepped in the way of his path.He wouldn’t pick a fight with anyone he didn’t deem strong enough to fight back. 

 His hands shoot against your throat, the force of the action drags you into sobriety.  His fingers thrust deeper into your skin as he lifts you from the floor by your neck. He had a lot riding on this, and he wasn’t going to let your indifference ruin that. Your grasp on the shot glass loosens as your vision begins to spot from the lack of oxygen. It falls from your hand and shatters with the impact.

“Your job isn’t to ask questions, it’s to get out there and make me look good” he drags your body closer and growls into your ear. 

He slams your body against the floor of fragmented glass. The sole of his foot makes contact with the palm of your hand, pushing the shards deeper into your skin. Crimson flowed through the wounds  in a steady pour. Hot tears took residence in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. 

“ If you fuck this up for me, I’ll do a lot worse than just take your voice Y/n. You don’t want to see me angry. I promise you, you won’t like it.” His foot presses harder against your skin. His dark tone sends shivers down your spine. He had released his grasp on you, but the syllables that slithered out of his mouth constricted around your throat. 

Despite your decision not to cry, the tears began to spill. They weren’t entirely motivated by the pain. The situation had become too similar to those that had existed in your life, and this was your body’s reaction to that. The heat from his glare could have cauterized your wounds. He removed his foot from your hand as he crouched down next to your tear stained figure. His fingers graze the edges of your cheek. His touch is surprisingly gentle as he wipes droplets from your face.

“I can’t wait to see you tonight Amorcito, you always put on such a good show for me.” He kisses your injured hand, the cuts begin to close as his lips come into contact with your skin. He licks the remaining blood from his lips and returns to the club floor- leaving you in a pool of maroon colored regret and splintering glass. 

You watch the stage manager’s eyes roll as they grab a mop to clean up the mess. Whatever they were getting payed, it wasn’t enough. Although the ordeal wasn’t out of the ordinary, it was definitely inconvenient. You stand up from the floor brushing the remaining glass off of your dress and walk through the curtains and onto the stage. Even without a physical mask, you were still wearing one. You dawned a bright sultry smile and an uppity attitude as you waved to your adoring fans. At times the outlandishly theatric persona could be fun. The ecstatic cheers of the crowd after each movement made you feel powerful in an odd way. The attention often fueled your performance into the more seductive destination Val had wanted to begin with. It was a means to an end, nothing more.

“Good evening to all of my lovely sinners in the audience” The sound of your voice echoed over the endless chatter of the club. You sat down at the edge of the rounded stage, your legs dangling over its edge. The short demon in front of you practically drooled as your body edged a little more off the platform in his direction. You noticed his reaction and wanted to take things a step further. Your wings spread, taking you closer to the table he sat at, the edge of your finger tilting his head up to meet your own.

“I’ve got a wonderful show in store for just you tonight” Seduction over took your tone as you blew the demon a kiss leaving the entire table absolutely dumbfounded. You travel back to the stage with various sexual remarks towards the other inhabitants. You sit back on the stage, slowly extending your legs to the side, crossing them as you do. You tease the slits in your dress to the side revealing a bit more skin. The patrons erupt into a sea deafening screams. 

The lights suddenly cut out, you dissipated with them. The shred of an electric guitar echoed throughout the space. An array of red and purple spotlights flood the center of the stage. You reappear in a puff of smoke as they do. The music was a bit “edgier” than what you’d usually go for. The genres you listened to spanned a vast array of styles, but you usually preferred to sing the softer tunes of the earlier decades. Valentino’s typical clientele however, needed a newer, rougher pop/rock sound. The drum set clicks in tandem with the percussive click of your heels as you begin your dance. 

A wickedly wide grin stretches across your face, you were ready to start the show. You began to sing.

“I heard he sang a good song

I heard he had a style”

This was your compromise. You could sing anything you wanted to so long as you updated the instrumentals. Most of the people in the club were too wasted to listen to the lyrics anyway. It didn’t really matter what you sang as long as you sounded good and looked hot doing it. Hell’s population would eat up anything you served them. Their mouths began to water as you drop to the floor, arching your back away from them. The music flowed through you, awakening a deep sensuality in your movement . Each twist of your hips accented the intense chords and high hat hits of the accompaniment. Your hair formed a halo around you as you turned onto your back. Your legs extend into the air earning an influx of vulgar cheers from the surrounding demons. Any softness your voice had once held disappeared as growled into the next phrase.

“And so I came to see him

To listen for a while”

You slowly slid up from the floor, your hands following the shape of your curves until they reached pit of your neck. Your fingers splayed against its circumference as you rolled your eyes back into your head.  You glanced up to the balcony to make sure the radio demon was watching, the dim lighting prevented you from seeing anything more than his silhouette. 

Alastor wasn’t entirely sure what to make of the glance you threw him, or your performance. On the one hand, he was endlessly enamored with you. Alastor would have dedicated the rest of his life to sing your praises in that moment if you had just asked him to. He loved to listen to you sing and watch you dance in any context.

On the other hand however, it made him extraordinarily jealous. He hated the lewd comments and desire filled glances of the other demons around him.  It made sense they were attracted to someone like you, but that doesn’t mean he liked that they were. He would remember each face that dared utter such filthy things about you, and deal with them later.  His attention shifted back to your voice as you spun your voice into a decadent riff. 

“And there he was this young boy

A stranger to my eyes”

 You turned upstage to the silver pole that spun in its center. Hundreds of eyes glazed over in pure lust as your spine pressed against the pole. You were practically suffocated with screams as your form flipped upside down. You dropped one arm from the pole, the tips of your wings grazing the floor as your newly freed hand followed the lines of your body. 

 Your exaggerated and frankly pornographic expressions as you twisted against the pole made Alastor apprehensive. The feeling of unease was not caused by disgust but concern. As much as he loved to listen to you sing, this  didn’t feel right for him to watch. It felt too fake. You looked far too uncomfortable for his liking.He had seen you in a more intimate light before. Even decades later the mere thought of your gentle gasps and fluttering lashes dragged him up from hell and sent him straight to heaven. He was familiar with the grind of your hips against his own, and the feeling of your hands in his. He knew every freckle on your body and the exact degree of your spine’s curvature. He loved nothing more than to worship each fold in your figure. He adored the gentle light that always seemed to flicker in your eyes in those sensitive moments. He reveled in your loving glances and gentle touches he was not bothered with the sexuality of it all but rather its performative nature. This felt too over the top. Despite your energetic movements and sensual smile, your eyes were cold and dead. He didn’t want his memory caught on your legs wrapped around his waist or his head between your thighs if it was just a performance. It didn’t feel right to. He pushed the thoughts from his mind and focused on the sound of your voice. Even with its dolorous tamber the whisper of your gentle heart found its way to seep through. 

"Strumming my pain with his fingers

Singing my life with his words

Killing me softly with his song"

You notice Val seated between two tall blonde demons with their legs crossed over his. He was very clearly not impressed with them or your movements on the pole. His disinterest grew with each sip of his drink. He gives you a pressing look. In that moment you knew exactly what he wanted. He had had enough of your stalling. You looked good but you needed to look better. 

"Killing me softly with his song

Telling my whole life with his words

Killing me softly with his song"

With a slight roll of your eyes, you fly up to the balcony. You place yourself onto the thick marbled railing with your back to the radio demon. With a quick twist your of your hips, you straddle the banister your body rolling against it ever so slightly. You make direct eye contact with the patron in the center booth. He wore a mask crafted in wilted black rose petals and the scent of death, but underneath he held your late lover’s face. His deep red eyes meet your own e/c ones The glimmer of his previously golden swirled dark brown eyes clashed against his current ghostly red ones  He brushed a strand of his straightened two toned hair  to the side of his face. He carried the same nose, body, and expression as Alastor- Your Alastor. You turn upstage to compose yourself. You sway your hips to the beat of the music in order to keep up appearances. You turn your weary head behind you to his table to make sure you hadn’t imagined it. Even in its outstretched state, his smile gave him away. It really was him. After years of searching, you had finally found him, or better yet, he found you. For just a moment, you had forgotten your penance and your heart flowed with oceans of love. You floated within them in pure ecstasy. In that moment, and animosity you held for him faded away with the weight of your excitement.

"I felt all flushed with fever

Embarrassed by the crowd"

Abruptly the realization hits you, he was seated where the radio demon should have been- that must mean that Alastor; Your  Alastor, was the radio demon. Your mind flipped to the initial radio broadcast he first spoke to you with, as well as the note signed “yours truly”.  Alastor had used that phrase so often as a sign off from the radio show…..Perhaps you weren’t the sharpest little crayon in the demon filled box- considering the embarrassingly long time it took you to put the pieces together. 

"I felt he found my letters

And read each one out loud"

Realizing this sent a wave of relief through you. Perhaps he could free you from this life, he was one of the strongest demons in hell. If anyone could break your contract with Valentino, it would be him...Would he even consider it? Your mind swirled in a storm of questions. Why the sudden change? As the relief of the initial realization began to fade and a new understanding took root. He had left you in life, why would he want to help you now? 

You couldn’t help but wonder why he was really here. Considering his previous track record, nothing made sense. Why would he speak to you within his broadcast, or gift you the dress, or show up to your workplace if he hadn’t payed you any mind in such a long time?

He must have wanted something from you. That would be the only logical reason for his sudden appearance. If he truly had always been the radio demon, he held power. He had all of the necessary resources to find you and he never did. He didn’t need to. 

"I prayed that he would finish

But he just kept right on"

You think back to the various gifts he would purchase you before he asked something of you, or the roses he would send to your apartment if you two had an argument in your life together. Your years of wondering why he had left boiled down to one simplistic answer…He had always just needed something. The more you thought on this, the more painfully obvious it became. He wasn’t here because he loved you. He was only here because you had become convenient again.The second he deemed you impractical, he would leave you as he had before.

"Strumming my pain with his fingers

Singing my life with his words"

You fly away from the balcony, sliding down the metal pole in the center of the stage to reach the floor. You were thankful the stage lights blinded you from his pressing gaze once you were on the ground. You would ignore the balcony entirely for the remainder of the performance. It didn’t matter if Valentino would be upset, you couldn’t bear to look at Alastor anymore- Yet even with your newfound distance, he had chained you to memory. You were transported back to the downtown apartment in which you had previously spent so many hours with him in.

 1930 New Orleans: Your apartment 

The candlelit room was a patchwork of miscellaneous vintage furnishings and modern decorative trinkets. You had moved into your apartment not long after your father had passed. Most of the items within it were gifted to you upon his death. He preferred victorian architecture over all else, it was natural his taste in interior design would follow. You leaned against the sage patterned love seat with a cooling cup of tea in hand. The star speckled sky, and tepid air of late April seep through your opened window.

You awaited the arrival of your lover. Alastor wasn’t a man to be late. He was meticulously early and always prepared. His absence had begun to torment you in anxiety. The grandfather clock stationed in the corner of the room struck midnight, furthering your worries. He was supposed to arrive at 7:30, obviously it was long past that. 

He had promised to take you out dancing to make up for the late hours he had begun to keep at the studio. He had become more withdrawn than you cared to admit. He disappeared for days at a time. On the few days you managed to get ahold of him, he dismissed you, insisting he needed to keep working on his show. It aggravated you to no end, but you would never want to be another obstacle on the way to his dreams. It was easier to let it go and enjoy the time you did have with him.

You had the bad habit of jumping to the worst scenario.You didn’t live in the safest sector of the city, it was entirely possible he had been attacked along the way. Your mind shifts to the uprising of missing person’s cases New Orleans had been plagued with. The media speculated a killer of some kind, but the police department denied those theories. They hadn’t found any of the bodies, and refused to believe they were going to.

 If he wasn’t here within the next hour, you were going to search for him yourself.

"Killing me softly with his song

Killing me softly with his song"

An abrupt knock steals you from your worries, you rush to its source without a second thought. You open the door to the dark curly haired man you had been waiting for. To your surprise, his usually tidy hair was unkempt and rumpled around his newly bruised face. His disheveled blood stained clothing reflected the crimson pouring from his nose. You froze like a deer in headlights, it was one hell of a way to show up for a date. 

"Killing me softly with his song

Killing me softly with his song"

“Oh my god” you whispered under your breath. Your hands appear at the sides of his face tracing each little scratch and the deep bruise forming around his eye. “Love..what happened? Are you okay?” You stuttered out.

He sent you a sheepish smile, not wanting to raise any concerns.“May I come in” he asked placing his hand on top of your own.

  His “previous activities” were rather impromptu. Usually, his targets were much better thought out, and handled much more methodically. Although he enjoyed the anguished screams of his victims, he would never hurt anyone who wasn’t actively or indirectly hurting you, the same applied to this kill. The timing wasn’t ideal but it was a necessity.

He had decided to walk to the flower shop from the station so he could surprise you with a fresh bouquet before your date. He felt tremendously guilty for his recent absences, and wanted to alleviate that with a gift. Even if he missed you dreadfully, New Orleans birthed the scum of the earth. It was more important to keep you protected than to keep long expanses of your company. He would never forgive himself if something he could have prevented happened to you.

Upon his arrival into the shop, he was rather annoyed with the short brutish man that held up the line. He shamelessly flirted with the owner of the shop, who very clearly did not care for his advances. Alastor wouldn’t stand for such behavior. It was better to deal with the issue then instead of allowing you to continue to exist in a world full of degenerates. He would do anything to keep you safe. 

 Once the man had finally left, he followed him until they reached a quiet alley. He pulled the knife from his coat pocket, ready to strike. He stabbed the man’s back and twisted the knife in as far as it would go. However, the man was a bit stronger than he anticipated. It was the first time anyone had bothered to fight back.

His most recent kill had gotten sloppy, and here he was covered in blood on your doorstep in consequence. He never wanted any of the evidence to be tied to you, so he had learned to keep his distance. On this particular occasion however, he didn’t have much of a choice. He had dismembered the body and left it tucked in an alleyway, to be disposed of later. The only evidence remaining was the blood staining his clothes. If someone saw him walking through town in his disorderly state, that would raise questions; questions that could indirectly put you into harms way. Although this wasn’t ideal, it was the only option. -Besides, he had accidentally missed your date, you were probably worried sick over him.

“Yes of course I’m sorry, please follow me” You stammer out grasping his hand and leading him to the bathroom. You weren’t entirely sure of the nature of his bedraggled  state, but you were determined to fix it. You reach under the sink and dig out the first aid kit you kept on hand. 

You reach for the bandages and a dampen a small cloth. You press it against his bloodied nose and place a gentle kiss on his forehead.

“Are you alright” You ask hesitantly. Your mind burned with questions, what had happened to bring him here in such a state?

“It’s nothing I can’t manage I’m sorry to drag you into this.” He replied, remorse seeping into his tone.

“No it’s alright I’m just glad you’re okay.” You responded as you began to bandage the scuffs on his hands. From his demeanor, you gathered he didn’t really want to talk about this, but you couldn’t help but ask.

“What happened Al?”  You questioned. Your shoulders were slumped in his direction while you carefully washed the cuts on his face.

“It’s not important my dear.” He responded with a nonchalant smile.

"Telling my whole life with his words

Killing me softly with his song"

His indifferent attitude did anything but calm you. 

“You can’t show up on my doorstep like this, and not expect me to be concerned for you. Please, just tell me what happened love” You begged. 

“I  had something to take care of. It’s not important” He dismissed you again as you unbuttoned the clasps of his shirt to tend to anything below the surface. Through his bloodied exterior, you couldn’t discern what stemmed from him or another person. 

“Clearly-" you huffed. You examined the small contusions that littered his chest. “Please don’t run from me Al”  Even though his injuries are less severe than you’d thought your lips contorted into a deep frown. “I’m worried about you.” Your e/c eyes bore into his smooth brown ones.

“I just.. got involved with the wrong person y/n, please save your worries for a worthy cause.” He murmured. He attempted to dissuade your worries with another smile, it only multiplied them.

“We should report this to the police Alastor I don’t care who you got involved with they don’t have a right to leave you like this” You urge, your fingers mindlessly trace the edges of each forming bruise.

“Y/n just drop it.” He finally snapped, his voice is intense and almost feral. His shoulders tense up almost as quickly as they release.

“Please”. He softens, pressing a tender kiss against your lips.

"He sang as if he knew me

In all my dark despair"

1930: New Orleans: Your apartment, six months later

Another pressing knock awakens you from your sleep. You didn’t even have it in you to be upset anymore. It had become habitual, he would show up on your doorstep a little before four in the morning speckled in bright red blood; just as he had done every few weeks for the last six months. It wasn’t worth asking for explanation anymore. He would ramble out the same tepid excuses and unconcerned reassurances. 

You opened the door to his typical scarlet splatted clothing. The longer his little escapade expanded, the less injuries he sustained afterwards. It was a double edged sword. You were glad he never walked in branded in bruises or dripping his own blood, but it also made you apprehensive. How was he able to hurt another so easily with no more damage than the occasional scrape on his knuckles? Nothing about the entire affair made sense. You recall the vague details he had mentioned after the first incident. If he truly had been accidentally whisked into the company of the wrong individuals, why didn’t he just leave? He worked in radio, theoretically he could accomplish the same goal in a different location. There wasn’t anything to stop him. You had assured him you would drop everything and go with him if he only asked you to. New Orleans had no reason to hold onto you in his absence. You were a matching set.  

With a small kiss between your drowsy eyes, he walked into your bedroom to shed his dirtied clothes. Upon his return, he flitted about your kitchen collecting the necessary materials to make you both a cup of tea. It was routine at this point. Accompanied by the smooth lull of the radio, you would drink your tea and chat. He was never at a loss for words, and you loved to listen. You didn’t really talk about anything meaningful, just whatever happened to cross his mind.  You sit curled into his arms tea in hand. You couldn’t help but wonder why this was all happening. You wanted him to open up to you. It didn’t matter what the circumstances were. Maybe if he told you, you could find a way to help him out of this

“Al..why don’t we just leave here? I don’t like that you keep showing up like this. I promise I won’t be upset with whatever details it holds…I just want to know that you’re being safe.” You nestle your head into the crook of his neck, as you speak.

“My dear, we have been over this, it is nothing I can’t handle. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it” He smiles down at you and presses another kiss against your forehead. He admired your care, but he feared your judgement too harshly to admit the true details of his actions.

"And then he looked right through me

As if I wasn't there"

“This is the second time this week Alastor. I’ll support you through anything but I deserve to know the details”. You plead, lifting your head to better observe his features. He looked completely and entirely unbothered.

"And he just kept on singing

Singing clear and strong"

"y/n I'm telling you to drop it" His hand cups your cheek.

"No you don't get to tell me that anymore. I'm concerned for you Alastor.” Your voice gets louder as you pull away from his touch.

"I've told you before darling, you needn't worry" He tucks a stray loc of your hair behind your ear. "I promise I would never hide anything from you for longer than I needed to dear.I will always be truthful with you y/n” He pulls your body back into his lap as he speaks.

“ I just can’t tell you yet… It wouldn’t be right to involve you in this.” His voice is indistinct and distant, as his arms wrap around you into a tight hug.

“ I can’t risk you getting hurt, You are my perfection dear” 

Your heart falls from your recollection as your body finally drops to the from the spinning pole. Alastor didn't end up keeping his promise of eventually veracity. How many other things did he simply “not tell you yet”.

"Strumming my pain with his fingers

Singing my life with his words"

You were convenient and gullible, you had loved him too much to even consider that he might have been hurting others and not a victim himself . You lived in the middle of the city, giving him a central location to act from. He hadn’t lied when he said you were perfect.

"Killing me softly with his song

Killing me softly with his song"

It was much deeper than you previously thought. You weren’t just someone he kept around for the occasional favor or entertainment. It was deeper than that. The bloodied clothes and unexplained absences finally made sense.  He would’ve needed to harm a lot of people to hold such an astute amount of power upon his arrival in hell. You were the unknown tool that helped him reach that status. 

"Telling my whole life with his words"

No wonder you ended up in hell. Any sinful actions you may have taken or blood on your hands was nothing in comparison to the amount he spilled with your help. You were nothing more than an accessory to his crimes. You had wasted your life on counterfeit kisses and meaningless utterances of  love. You had wasted your afterlife believing they held some merit.

"Killing me softly with his song"

He didn’t come for you because he didn’t need anything from you. He never actually loved you enough to search for you beyond that. 

The music crescendos into its final note. You take a slight bow as the crowd exploded into a sea of cheers.

“Thank you for being such a darling audience, I’ll be out to speak with you soon” you announce as you blow a kiss in their direction. Val would have to be mad later. You needed to get out of there

As soon you walked off stage, the lively armor of your theatrical persona was thrown aside, leaving nothing to guard your wounded heart. You stumble down the hall towards your dressing room ,a freshly opened bottle of wine in tow. You wanted nothing more than a moment of clear unfeeling peace. Valentino preferred you to mingle after a performance, but you needed to collect yourself and dampen your anger before you had to speak with your untamable fans. Alastor’s appearance had shaken you to your core in ways you weren’t prepared to confront. You didn’t have time to accurately process those emotions so you would settle for a second alone to compartmentalize. By the time you reach the dressing room’s door, the bottle in your hand is nearly empty. You turn the knob to reveal to a vase of crimson roses reflected in your mirror and the shadow of his antlers on your face. 

“Why are you here.” You asked pointedly. Your voice held the typical icey air of a frigid hellish morning. You had no intention of letting him stay long enough to propose whatever twisted favor had brought him back to your door.

“It was you that contacted me dearest” He ignored the frostbite forming on his finger tips from your cold shoulder- His frankly untrue statement struck more than a few of your nerves. 

“If I had, don’t you think I would have done it sooner?” You seethed with aggravation. Alastor hadn’t a clue as to why you were so cross with him. Perhaps guilt motivated your responses and he was simply caught in the overtly anguished crossfire. You had always been slightly oversensitive to your effect on him- maybe that was it?

“Now my dear you haven’t been in hell very long, you mustn’t blame yourself for needing a bit of extra time to understand your skillset. I was pleasantly surprised to hear your sweet voice interrupt my usual broadcast- Although, I must say I wasn’t aware you were so interested in continuing show business after death. Had you asked before finding your own way, I could have connected you with a classier establishment" 

“A bit of extra time is the understatement of the hour” you huff under your breath. 

“Most demons take weeks to learn control, you on the other hand managed to do so in a couple of days you really should be proud” He sent you a reassuring smile.

You laugh dryly, confusion overtakes his features and seeps into his smile.

“Oh sure you’re absolutely right! I should be proud it only took a day or so- give or take a few years” The sarcasm radiating from your response would have slit the throat of a lesser demon. This confused Alastor even further. 

“y/n, how long have you been in hell.”Bewilderment etches across his lips, he had never considered the possibility you weren’t another new arrival before then.

“Ten years, eleven next week.” you admit. His eyes grow wide in remorse.

“Dear I am so very sorry I didn’t find you sooner. Between your anonymity and my little leave of absence, we must have just missed each other. I assure you had I known you were here I would have been chasing at your heels.”  Despite his deeply genuine intentions, you perceived his words as nothing more than another manipulative tactic to persuade you into whatever twisted plan he had in store.

“Please- Al, you can cut the act already. To be entirely frank, I don’t need any more of your sweetly worded lies, I know who you’ve always really been now. I’m telling you it’s not going to work anymore- I’m not that stupid.” Your retort was accompanied by the roll of his eyes.

“You left me without a care in the world, and with a child for that matter. It stands to reason your sentiment wouldn’t change, even in hell. I don’t care for whatever old favor you’re trying to call in. I’m not helping you.” Even across the room, the edges of his raven tipped hair practically singed at the weight of your words. For the first time in his hellish existence, his everlasting smile dropped. He didn’t know he was a father. He had died before you had chance to tell him.

“ We had a child?” His voice is weak and raw, entirely devoid of its usual crackle. His eyes hold a deep sadness you had only ever seen in your own reflection. Your posture visibly softens at his sorrowful reaction. The realization hit you: He never got to meet his son. At least you were granted a moment with your baby swaddled in your arms. Alastor hadn't been so lucky. 

“ Yes.. his name is Eugene. He turned 50 last year...He was such a beautiful baby. He had your brown eyes and curly hair. I swear I could almost hear you in his laughter.” The corners of your mouth begin to peak up in response to the remembrance. Despite the short time he had been a part of your life, Eugene was everything you lived for. You endured every sleazy comment and blood splattered old fashioned in the hopes you could see him again. You even went as far to marry the bar’s immoral owner. You suffered a lifetime of abuse and the plight of that man's own children on the half hearted promise you might have been able to regain custody in your newfound stability.

“Did he live a good life?”  He was overtaken with dream-like sun spotted snapshots of you and his son. The hypothetical moments alleviated his guilt slightly. At least in his absence you weren’t entirely alone. Alastor's legs carried him to your side. He wanted nothing more than to wipe the melancholy from your face and offer you comfort. His hand gently outstretched to your shoulder. The silence that overtook the room was hinted in comfort instead of animosity.

“ Yes..he did" you finally respond. 

Your mind wanders to the flower shop he owned downtown and its painted green exterior. The lavender cursive of the sign above it read "Eugene's Fanciful Flowers". He was a complete and total dork, just like his father. The older you got, the more you found yourself walking past it. He had sent you a bouquet of daffodils once. You kept them in the vase next to your bed long after they had begun to wilt and shrivel. You weren't sure how he knew of your existence or even where you lived. He was only 18 months old the last time you had held him in your arms. You weren't really his mother, just a circumstance of his birth. You never had the chance to watch him grow. 

"I just never got to see it” You snap out of your memory inspired daze.

He never got to meet his son because he chose not to. Any remorse you felt was quickly scrapped from your system. You could have watched your son’s mind grow and learned the nuances of his little voice if Alastor had just stayed. That’s all he had to do. You didn’t care if your eventual marriage with him would have crumbled in the process. For all you cared, he could continue his distant nature and whatever wicked deeds he pleased, just as long as he stayed…He made his choice to walk that crestfallen path alone, separating you from him and your son in the process. You shrugged off his soothing hand and turned away, effectively burning a fire flecked wall between the two of you. 

“I had to give him up. The radio show shut down in your absence. I couldn’t support the both of us with what little I made at the bar.” Bitterness seeps into your previously softened voice. You weren’t going to allow yourself to be manipulated by his falsified concern. The mirage of imagined moments you had collected of your son over the years flashed through your mind all at once. You were devastated by the memories you didn’t get the chance to make.

“Y/n.. I am so sorry.” He is nearly frozen in place, shocked by the sudden shift in your demeanor. If you weren’t so angry, the pathetic broken string of words would have shattered your desolate heart.

“ You can stop pretend to care Alastor. You had no issue leaving us then- What do you really want from me? Just get it over with so I can go back to forgetting you exist.”  The short horns peaking out from your hair nearly doubled in size. You were growing frustrated with his half assed excuses and blatant lies. In that moment, you didn’t care if he disappeared entirely. The deserted lovesick island you had so often found yourself stuck on burned to the ground in the back of your mind. 

“Why would I, an overlord, want something from a weaker demon such as yourself. I don’t know who placed that foolish notion into your head, but I assure you, I don’t want anything from you” Anguish accented the pungent inflection of each word. Alastor was growing tired with your antics he didn’t want anything from you other than your forgiveness. He had apologized for the first time in decades, and meant it. Why couldn’t you just accept that? Your resentful resolve exasperated him to no end.

“ I just wanted to see you again, I thought you might like the same, evidently I was wrong.” His typical smile pressed into an uncharacteristic sharp line.

“Will you please just stop?” Your voice raised far more than a few decibels. He couldn’t take the hint, and you were not sober enough to keep reiterating it.

“Darling it has been agony sitting around waiting for you here, only to find out you’re cavorting around with Valentino. Leaving you wasn’t my fault, you can’t blame me for something I didn’t wish to do. As much as I wish to I can’t control my circumstances. I’ve already apologized I don’t know what else you want me to do."  He would gladly do anything you asked to mend the bridges you had set ablaze in your unreasonable fury. He hadn’t meant to die, it just sort of happened. Were you really blame him for his untimely demise?

“Didn’t wish to do? How stupid do you think I am?” You scoffed.

“The only thing I want you to do is leave.” Your voice wavered but the sentiment was strong. He could almost see the fighting spirit that traced your form. Alastor couldn’t help but laugh. He had done nothing but answer your call, and you had the audacity to reject his answer. If you wanted to fight, he would fight with you. If nothing else, it kept you talking to him.

“Naturally, because you are just so much happier leashed to Valentino and spinning around that pole” He taunted, his scornful sneer seeping into his cadence.

"Believe me I'd rather be anywhere else-" You snapped. He had added fuel to the fire and the weight of its introduction flooded you with spite.

“Don’t pretend that you’re any different from him Alastor. You are two sides of the same coin- except unlike you, Valentino actually owns my soul. I have to put up with this shit from him. I’m under no obligation to take it from you. I am not a toy for you to pick up and put down whenever you need something to play with- I’m not some tool for you to use whenever decide you need a favor.” 

You didn’t really believe the words coming from you, you just wanted to hurt him the way he hurt you. Evidently it worked a little better than you anticipated. His eyes contorted into the shape of radio dials, the static erupting from his core in tandem. His height over you nearly tripled, as the horns on his head wept out jet black roots that stretched into the ceiling. His voice distorts into a vicious growl.

“You don’t get to stand here and pretend that I am entirely to blame. It isn’t my fault your life went so poorly. Let’s think reasonably for a moment, provided you haven’t completely lost it. You could have made any number of different choices, but you went with the easiest option, just as you always have. As for your current situation, you did the same. Although I regret not finding you sooner, you clearly had the ability to reach out if you truly needed something. You don’t get to blame me because you finally started to regret your careless mistakes. You have no right to be angry with me for your own choices. Look at how pathetic you’ve become y/n.” He grasps your chin, tilting it to meet your eyes in the mirror. 

“I don’t know how I ever managed to love someone stupid enough to waste their soul on nothing more cheap liquor and lust rolled cigarettes.” 

The radio static that had permeated the room just seconds before fizzled out leaving you alone in the silent pit. His antlers returned to their normal size as he observed the void that replaced your sparkling eyes. As soon as he saw the tears welling up within you, he realized what he had said. 

 In actuality, he didn’t mean a word of it. In his time in hell, he had grown too accustomed to uncovering the insecurity of his opponents. In that moment, he had forgotten you really weren’t one. 

He didn’t truly blame you for anything that had happened. How could he?  He knew he was mostly at fault for the more unfortunate aspects of your life. His heart incessantly throbbed with guilt just thinking of what you must have gone through. He hadn’t known what he left you with in such an unforgiving world. If he had, he would have found some way to pluck the bullet from his skull and return home to you. 

As for the quality of your after-life, he knew the blame belonged entirely to Valentino. You had always been strong, but you had never been cruel. To survive in this hellish landscape, you had to be on some level. You probably would have ended up just another lifeless body bloodying up the street if you hadn’t taken the offer. Valentino had taken advantage of that, and Alastor hadn't been there to help you find another solution. Even if you didn’t want his help, he would never forgive himself if he didn’t find a way to break the deal you had made. 

 “Get out.” You didn’t have enough strength for anything more than a whisper.

 His eyes bore into yours as a single tear slipped down your face. He hadn’t noticed the deep scratches that decorated your cheeks or the dark purple bruises that formed under your contour until that moment. They had been hastily covered in concealer and he hadn’t been close enough to notice the jagged indentations until then. The ears perched atop his head began to twitch as his mind sparked with an entirely different form of rage...As soon as he figured out what twisted soul had dared to lay a hand on you, all of hell would hear their screams. 

 His grasp on your chin softens as he traced the edge of each scratch with his free hand.

“Who did this to you” 

“Get out.” You tear your face from his hold. 

“No I’m not leaving you here” he stated, the desperation of his tone rimmed the edges his lanky frame. He took a step towards you and you took a step away. 

“Get the fuck out Alastor. Now.” Your eyes began to glow a familiar pink. 

“Y/n, I didn’t mean t-“

“Just go” you cut him off before he has the chance to put a word in edgewise. You had been through enough. You didn’t need his excuses to confuse you more. Your eyes squeeze shut as the objects in the room began to float. All you wanted was for him to go away. 

“I won’t leave you again” He stood his ground.

“Leave me alone” You were practically screaming at this point. If he couldn’t listen to your request, you would just have to be louder to make him listen. Your voice reverberates throughout the room, effectively shattering both the light bulbs surrounding your mirror and the mirror itself. The residual glass scattered through the space and into your hair. 

To your surprise, he doesn't respond. The remaining floating objects fall to the ground in a piercing clatter. Your eyes shoot open at the sudden noise.

Other than the abundant mess, there was no trace he had ever been there to begin with. Even the roses he had brought for you had dissipated. You stood alone in the glass covered room, thankful he had taken his leave. The swirling overload of emotion made you feel ill. You replayed the conversation a few times in your head, each replay inspired a deeper feeling of regret and a plethora of questions you no longer had the opportunity to ask. 

A/N:

Hey yall thank you sm for the support I adore each and every one of you!!

Also a note about the content revolving around abusive relationships: This is going to be a bit long winded but I feel it's important to be said. The content in this chapter as well as chapter 2 features some pretty awful depictions of abuse. I want to check in and make sure that this isn't coming off as an overly done cliche or a cheap plot device to further the story. In no way is that my intention. I know that I am a very small writing page but it's important to me that I dont accidentally wind down the same path a lot of larger entertainment companies follow. I've drawn from the experiences of my friends who have gone through similar things as well as my own to try and prevent that. However I am also aware my writing style is a bit..dramatic? If you find that it is coming across negatively, and if you feel comfortable, don't hesitate to message me normally or anonymously. I will gladly listen to anything you have to say!!

[hyperactively-me]

happy (belated) halloween 🧛‍♀️🎃🍂

He whistles appreciatively, unabashedly raking over your form. "I might just have to keep you all to myself tonight." His hands reach out to grab your hips, hands gliding up and down your body. One hand travels down to the top of your thigh highs, playing with the little bow at the top. Slowly, he pushes his fingers under the thin, partially see through fabric, pressing his nails into the flesh of your thighs. Your face grows warm as you playfully swat his arm, squirming under his touch. "As tempting as that sounds, I can't."

tumblr was a bitch and deleted half of my draft, so i had to rewrite the second half of the fic unfortunately, which is why this is posted past halloween lol. ok lemme explain myself. i wrote this solely for myself (what can i say, i had to indulge my thoughts!). this is extremely self-indulgent and self-serving. the costume described here is quite literally the exact costume i wore for halloween...shenanigans...i went to (shoutout spirit halloween). i was honestly really feelin' myself when wearing it sooooooooo...this tiny little minuscule thought popped into my mind and. yeah. here we are now! i mean, since it's literally based off something i wore, it's not gonna be perfectly written in the sense that it doesn't have physical descriptors, such as hair descriptions and mentions of blushing. take that as you will. happy reading ;)

warnings: smut

You glance at the clock, realizing it's almost time to head to your friend's Halloween party. You had picked out a rather...showy...vampire costume; a very lacy black corset top, a black micro skirt with a slit up the side, black thigh highs with bows, black lacy fingerless gloves, and a black ribbon choker. You slipped your costume on with ease, the full outfit accentuating your body in all the right places. You dab some fake blood on your throat and top of your chest and cleavage, adding to the "vampire-ness" of the costume.

As you sit at your vanity, you meticulously apply your makeup, darkening your eyes with deep, smoky makeup. Simon had just walked into your shared bedroom, bringing a load of his laundry from the washer. As he set down the load on the bed, he takes a good long look at you from the open door of the bathroom. With a grunt, he approaches the threshold of the bathroom door, eyes fixated on your form. He leans against the doorway, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Lookin' good, love," he says, his voice low and husky.

You catch his gaze in the mirror, and the intensity in his eyes sends a shiver down your spine.

"You think so?" you ask, a playful grin forming on your lips as you adjust your hair.

Simon steps up to you, his hand brushing against your arm.

"Are you sure you have to go?" he punctuates his words with a little whine, and you can't help but smile, shaking your head.

You finish the look with a set of fangs and bright red lipstick. A final touch of fake blood dribbles from the corner of your lip down to your chin. With a contended sigh, you stand up from your vanity chair, turning to face Simon.

"Yes, I have to go right now, actually," you say. "Final product, how does it look?"

You give him a twirl, stopping in front of him with a little flourish.

He whistles appreciatively, unabashedly raking over your form. "I might just have to keep you all to myself tonight."

His hands reach out to grab your hips, hands gliding up and down your body. One hand travels down to the top of your thigh highs, playing with the little bow at the top. Slowly, he pushes his fingers under the thin, partially see through fabric, pressing his nails into the flesh of your thighs.

Your face grows warm as you playfully swat his arm, squirming under his touch. "As tempting as that sounds, I can't."

Simon smirks, a glint of mischief in his eyes. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you up against him. "I was thinking we could have our own little party right here." His hands slip under your skirt to cup your ass, squeezing it hard. Your skirt practically showed your entire ass off, the edge of the fabric resting just under the curve of your ass.

You blink once, twice. With a little giggle and a sigh, you shake your head. "I promised my friends I'd be there."

Simon groans, his gaze lingering on you. "You're breakin' my heart, you know that?" he says, his tone dripping with mock sadness.

You laugh, the warmth of his embrace making it difficult to resist him. "It's just for a few hours, you big baby."

He leans in, his lips grazing your neck. "Yeah, a few hours I'll be waitin' for you to come home 'til I can fuck you nice 'n hard," he murmurs, his breath sending a shiver through you. His lips linger on your skin, teasingly tracing the line of your jaw.

You let out a soft sigh, squeezing your thighs together.

"I- I have to go," you stutter out, trying to fight the heat creeping up your cheeks.

He drops his head on your shoulder for a moment and kisses your shoulder. Reluctantly, Simon releases his hold on you. "Alright, have fun, love. But remember, I'll be countin' the milliseconds until you're back."

You wiggle your eyebrows playfully at him as you reach over to grab your purse.

He follows you to the front door like a puppy, hand grazing the small of your back. He leans against the doorway, crossing his arms and giving you the best impression of someone who's been abandoned.

Before you can fully open the door, he's grabbing your wrist, yanking you into him just so he could cop another feel. The door clicks shut behind you, and you find yourself pressed against it. Simon's hands slide from your wrist to your waist, pulling you even closer. His lips meet yours in a hungry kiss, which you happily return. Bits of your fresh red lipstick lingers on his lips as you pull away finally, really needing to leave.

"Later tonight," you tease, pushing his chest gently. "I gotta go, seriously. I'll text you when I get there. You have my location."

Simon pouts in front of you, a last ditch attempt at getting you to stay.

"I'll only be gone for a couple hours, then you can do whatever you want to me," you whisper seductively in his ear.

Simon swallows thickly, nodding his head as he finally lets you go.

With that, you press up onto your toes to kiss his cheek goodbye, leaving a red lipstick stain in your wake.

"Lock the door after me, please?" you call over your shoulder as you push open the front door.

"'Course. You have everything you need?" he questions, pointing to your purse. Of course, when you first got together, he made you start carrying pepper spray and a pocket knife.

"Yeah, all set. Alright, see you later, Si," you shout back, heading toward your friend's car parked outside.

The brisk autumn air is a sharp contrast to the heated moment you had just left behind. God. That man. Insatiable, I tell you.

As you make your way to the party, your mind is a whirlwind of anticipation. The remnants of Simon's kiss lingers on your lips, and you can't help but think about what he whispered so seductively into your ear.

Arriving at the party, you're greeted by the pulsating beat of music, laughter, and the unmistakable scent of Halloween in the air. Your friends cheer at your entrance, gushing over your vampire costume. The atmosphere is infectious, and you find yourself losing track of time as you immerse yourself in the party.

At one point, your phone buzzes with a message from Simon. You think you're going to pass out when you open your phone with full brightness. You scramble to turn it down, biting your lip as you take in the sight before you. He was describing in heavy detail what he had in store for you when you got home. The anticipation builds with each passing moment, and you can't help but steal glances at the clock, eager for the party to wind down.

As the hours slip away, you decide it's time to take your leave. Your goodbyes are filled with promises of future hangouts. You assure your friends that you had an amazing time, and with a giddy grin, you head back home, stomach fluttering with anticipation.

. . .

As you unlock the front door, you're met with a dark house, save for the lamplight streaming from the living room.

"Hey, baby, I'm home," you call out, dropping your purse on a nearby table while slipping your shoes off by the front door.

The moment Simon hears your voice, he’s stumbling over his own feet getting up from the couch.

Immediately he’s on you, hands grabbing fervently at your waist. He leans down and presses a firm kiss on your lips. He slowly walks you back into the front door, pushing you up against the firm wood. You melt into the warmth of his body, gently brushing your lips against his. He makes a low sound from his throat in reaction, using his hand to keep your jaw open while he licks deep into your mouth with his tongue.

“Been waitin’ all night for you,” he mumbles in between kisses. You instinctively grab his shoulders, mewling into his mouth as he shoves his tongue into your mouth. His fingers start to dig into your flesh, pressing under the hem of your corset.

"Mm, were you on the couch in the dark?" you question, panting slightly as you pull away, letting your head rest on the door behind you.

His hands tighten around your waist as he breaks the kiss, a smirk playing on his lips. "Lost track of time, thinkin' about what was waiting for me," he admits, his voice low and filled with desire.

You let out a breathy chuckle, swiping your finger over the remnants of your kiss on his cheek a few hours ago.

"You gonna explain your little texts to me, or?" you tease gently, tracing your finger down to the corner of his lip.

"Rather just show you, love," he exclaims, taking your wrist in his hold. Without hesitating, he takes the edge of your lacy fingerless glove in his teeth, and slowly pulls it up and off your hand. You stare up at him, mouth agape as he takes your other hand, repeating the action, this time more slowly. If that was even possible. Not once does he break eye contact, raising his eyebrows at your now heated expression.

"Hmm," he hums, dropping the gloves between his teeth to the floor. He takes your chin in between his fingers, thumb tracing the dried fake blood trailing from your lip to your chin.

Before you can say anything, he's unceremoniously throwing you over his shoulder, your arms dangling down his back. You squeal in surprise, hands searching for stability on his waist.

One arm fastens around the back of your knees, keeping you propped up over his shoulder. His hand brushes over the top of one of your thigh highs, pulling the fabric higher over your thigh. His free hand comes up to grope your ass, now fully on display, no thanks to your skirt.

"Teasin' me in this little get-up you have on, aren't ya, darlin'? Like a goddamn present, wrapped s' prettily f'me."

Your pussy clenches at his words, the need for him to touch you increasing by the second.

"Simon—" you try to say, but instead he bites your hip. You gasp in response, nails digging into his skin harshly. He smooths over the bite with his hot tongue, pressing a sloppy kiss over it. Wetness starts to pool in the fabric of your panties, your vision getting a little dizzy from the way he's rubbing his hand over your ass, the way his tongue left a wet spot on the fleshy curve of your hip.

"Be a good girl f'me, yeah?" he says huskily. "'M makin’ good on my promise."

He practically kicks down your bedroom door, his patience wearing thin the more you wriggle in his grasp. Simon body slams you (affectionately) onto the bed with a grunt, wasting no time to crawl over you.

"Gonna fuck you how you deserve," he promises, his hands ghosting from your legs to your shoulders, pushing back stray strands of hair away from your skin.

Simon pushes down the lace cupping your cleavage, strong and large hands butterfly out across your chest, squeezing the pillowy flesh of your breasts.

"Yes, like that," you encourage, rolling your neck out to relax.

He lowers his head down, lapping his tongue over your nipple. His other hand massages the supple skin of your breast. You moan lightly as he gently grazes his teeth over your skin, his other hand pinching your nipple.

You press your hands up against his chest, balling his black t-shirt in your hands. With a quick breath, you lift your knee up and press it into the crotch of his sweats, making him groan unabashedly. He falters slightly, nearly stuttering to a stop as he gasps from the pressure. You lean up to press a kiss to his jaw, moving your way up to bite his ear lobe with a tug, the fake fangs pressing sharply into the flesh.

"F- fuck," he mutters, squeezing the flesh of your hips.

You slide your hand under the waistband of his sweats and grab his half-hard cock.

"Fuckin' hell,” he groans, letting his head droop. “Y- you little minx.”

He grabs your hand holding his cock, and pumps himself once, twice, before he’s shuddering over you.

“F- fuckkk,” he groans, coming back down to kiss you hard. You run your fingers through his hair, pulling the short strands gently at the base of his neck.

With new resolve, he shoves you over onto your stomach, straddling you as his fingers hurriedly fiddle with the metal hooks that kept your corset firm around your torso.

"Don't you dare rip this corset Simon Riley," you warn, reaching a hand behind you. In a flash, he's pinning your hand back to the bed, pressing his knee just hard enough on your wrist to keep it down.

"Fuckin'— how the fuck do you take this thing off—?" he grunts, yanking at the metal hooks impatiently. He fiddles with it for a moment more then starts to unsnap the hooks, successfully freeing you from the corset.

"Goddamn difficult f'r no reason—" he mumbles to himself as he flips you back onto your back, pushing your corset onto the floor. You let out a giggle. "Awww, big guy had a hard time takin' off a little top?" you tease, stroking his cheek.

"Damn hooks," he grumbles, shaking his head with a smirk as he leans down to capture your lips in a heated kiss. His hands come back up to grope your breasts as he kisses deep into your mouth, barely coming up enough for oxygen.

He reaches around you to fumble with the zipper of your micro skirt, deftly dragging the zipper down the moment he grasps onto it. In one fluid motion, he slides your skirt down your hips and off your legs, tossing it onto the floor. You squeeze your thighs together in anticipation, emitting a soft, low moan.

"You look so fuckin' good like this," he mumbles, gripping your knees and wrenching your legs apart, allowing your knees to rest on his sides.

He takes a ragged breath as his hands ghost over the thin, lacy waistband of your black thong. You watch intently as he drags his fingers down to your core, pressing into the bottom of your panties firmly. You're soaking.

"Fuck, you know what you're doin' to me, lovie?" he groans, hooking a finger under the waistband. Slowly, he drags your panties down your thighs and off your ankles.

He whispers, "You're trouble, you know that?" with a grin.

You flush at his words, whimpering ever so quietly as he runs his calloused palms up your thighs.

"J- just touch me already," you whimper, wrapping your legs around his waist and yanking him closer to you.

"Almost, pretty girl," he says, lowering himself to your thighs, "let me enjoy this."

You're dripping onto the sheets at this point, the anticipation eating away at you. He was taking his sweet, sweet time. Can't rush a stubborn man.

Simon starts to leave open mouthed kisses on the curve of your hip, drool messily dripping down your flesh. He nips at your skin, dragging his nose across the slope of your upper thigh before catching the edge of your thigh high in his teeth.

"S- Simon," you beg, grabbing onto his head. He hasn't even touched you where you needed him most, yet you're already begging him. Simon doesn't respond, ignoring the way you're calling out for him.

He drags your stocking all the way down to your ankle, slipping it off with ease.

"Hmm," he hums contentedly, running his palm up your now bare leg.

He grabs your other clothed leg, hand grabbing your ankle gingerly, fingers ghosting over the tops of your thigh high. He plays with the bow one last time before slipping his fingers under the thin fabric, digging into the flesh of your thigh.

"Fuckin' hell, lovie,” he breathes as he slips your other stocking off your leg. You're quivering from desire, practically gasping for air as he teases your now bare skin.

Before you can beg him to touch you, he's lowering his head to your soaking core. You’re promptly cut off by your own gasp when his hot, expert tongue presses into your clit.

You clench around nothing from how fucking bad you needed him on your aching cunt. The garbled moan you let out is obscene, desperate and worked up from his prior touching and teasing. His mouth is an incinerator against your slick folds, tongue lapping at the velvet of your folds like a man starved. He hums low in his throat as you squeeze your thighs around his head, back arching as his hands squeeze your thighs.

“Si- oh, fuck—”  you moan, words dissipating from your lips as he presses into your clit again.

His fingers dig into your thighs as they tighten around his head, his tongue swirling around your clit like its his day job. You push your hips against his mouth, seeking him out for more.

You moan again as his nose pushes against your sensitive spot whilst is tongue gently pushes inside your hole. He's slow, methodically licking your pussy, humming at your sounds.

You nearly pass out when he pushes two of his thick, calloused fingers deep inside your cunt.

“Oh—f-fuck— Simon,” you moan, burying your fingers in his cropped hair in an attempt to ground yourself.

He growls as you blabber, curling his fingers upwards into your walls. Your cunt pulses around his fingers, aching for more.

"I- you—," you mutter, trying to convey how fucking good he's making you feel right now.

He pulls his fingers almost all the way out, leaving just his fingertips in, just before pushing them all the way back in. He relishes in the way you mewl from just his touch, letting out a breathy chuckle at the way you push your hips farther onto him. Suddenly, he's repeating the action, pumping his fingers over and over inside you until you're practically crying for more.

"I- I need—"

"What do you need, lovie?" he questions innocently, curling his fingers upwards again.

"I- I need you to fuck me—"

"Am I not fucking you with my fingers?" he growls, reaching up to grip your jaw. His fingers start to work themselves faster in you, reaching his thumb to circle your clit. Suddenly, he latches his mouth back on your core, driving his tongue between your folds as if he's trying to split you in half on his tongue.

The way he's latched onto you causes you to see stars, and the oh so familiar feeling of an orgasm comes rushing upon you.

"You—" you garble, your muscles pulling tight in your core. “I-I’m gonna cum,” you breathe, yanking at his hair again in encouragement, to push you over the edge.

The moment he hums against you, the vibration against your clit pushes you straight over the edge. He moves straight to your clit the moment you let go, fingers curling to coax it out of you.

A strangled cry falls from your lips when your orgasm tears through you, the stimulation all too much. Your back arches with your release, toes curling at the sensation. Simon laps up your cum on his tongue, swallowing it like it's the first thing he's drank in days.

"Good girl," he breathes, removing himself from your cunt. "So beautiful," he mumbles, coming up to kiss you. He drags his tongue down to your neck, then comes back up to suck your juices off his fingers in a lewd display.

You swallow thickly, chest heaving watching the way his tongue laps up your slick off his fingers. You thread your fingers together over the back of his neck, pulling him down to kiss you again. Your legs pressing into him feels so delicious, the way you're beckoning him to you. You feel so good, so soft against him that he can't hold himself back from humping you. He's going to go fucking crazy.

"C- can't wait any longer," Simon grunts, yanking down his sweats at lightning speed. His cock slaps up against his lower stomach, hard and pulsing.

A surge of heat courses through your veins, igniting every inch of your being.

"Gonna— fuckin' lose my damn mind," he groans as he lines up with your entrance, noting the way your hole is still dripping.

His strong hands move you, pulling your legs up and outwards. The tip of his girthy cock prods at your entrance, his arm coming up to cradle your head.

"J- just fuck me," you groan, bucking your hips upwards. The moment you rock against him, he's pushing his cock inside you. You both groan at the sensation, the way his cock stretches and pulls you open so nicely. He groans as you swallow him whole, your cunt sucking him in so greedily.

"S- so fuckin' sexy under me like this, lovie," he pants, resting his forehead on yours for a brief moment.

You quiver at the way his cock stretches you open, and you try to speak, but you can't. Simon took his time running his palms over your body, feeling you up. You whimper needily, rolling your hips against him, and it was enough to get him to start moving.

His hips snap against yours, fast and rough. He's relentless, fucking you into the mattress with a strength that only he possesses. He pulls out almost all the way, then pushes back in rapidly. You feel as though the wind is knocked out of your lungs when his hand traces up your thigh to press into your clit.

He strong frame presses against yours, craving closeness. Sweat starts to drip from his forehead, his front strands of hair matting to his forehead. The sight alone could make you cum. His arms flex as he moves his hands to get a bruising grip on your hips. You moan at the way he's rutting into you, acting like a starving man who's been craving pussy.

"Thas' it, lovie," he grunts, watching the way you take his cock so nicely.

"S- so good," you manage to say, squirming under his hold. You instinctively bring your hand down to play with your clit, and in a flash, he's taking your hand away and replacing it with his own, thumb rubbing against it.

"F- fuck, you can barely even speak you're so—" he stutters when you clench around his cock from him playing with your clit.

His thrusts are still going hard, chasing after you with each movement. Simon's pace didn’t let up, the desire to make you feel so good heightening.

"Simon," you moan grabbing at his arms. You can't help but roll your hips again, encouraging him further.

"Thas' right. Say my name," Simon's tone drips with praise, and it makes you shiver, clenching around his cock. He groans again, nearly stuttering to a stop at the action.

Each brush of his fingers against your clit brings to life another orgasm, the muscles in your lower abdomen pulling already. The air is filled with your moans and whimpers and Simon's guttural grunts. He's starved, so extremely needy, and he needed you.

"Simon—" you gasp, "—gonna cum—," digging your nails into his skin.

You watch his eyes meet yours, his pupils blown with lust. His lips meet yours in a kiss, his thrusts turning sloppy.

Your orgasm pierces you like a bolt of electricity, your muscles contracting and draining every last ounce of rationality from your thoughts. You cum hard, seeing stars in your vision, laying there weakly afterwards and let him keep fucking into you, chasing his own high.

"Good girl," he hisses, a sharp intake breath, and his own orgasm chases yours. His hand leaves your clit to grab your hip. His momentum is even, but he's panting, visibly overcome by pleasure. Simon shudders as he buries himself deep within you, his cock pressed against your cervix as he empties himself inside you.

Still catching your breath, you pull him down on top of you to kiss you. He falls on top of you, his chest pressed flush against yours.

"You're perfect," you mumble after a pause. "Treat me so well."

You brush your hands through his hair, massaging his scalp.

He sighs, chuckling lightly as he catches his own breath. He shoves his face in the crook of your neck, allowing you to caress him.

"So gorgeous," he murmurs back, leaning up to capture your lips in a kiss again.

[another-lost-mc]

Hello! I'm a lover of beauty supply stores and I was wondering as to how the brothers would react being dragged to the beauty supply store with MC!

I love your work! Stay safe friend! Xo

Ooooh this was a fun idea to think about! I selected the brothers that inspired me the most, I hope that's okay! 💙

Shopping Together For Beauty Supplies Headcanons | LUCIFER, MAMMON, ASMODEUS and bonus BEELZEBUB 1k words | SFW | Fluff, implied established relationships (x gn!Reader), some suggestive comments

LUCIFER

If he’s going to spoil you keep you company while you shop for cosmetics, he’s going to insist on taking you to a higher-end store that appeals to his appreciation of quality and luxury

The sales associates find him attractive but they’re too intimidated to approach you to see if you need any help, so they sort of stand around and pretend not to stare as he walks with you through the aisles

He acts like makeup and skincare are beneath him, but he can point out human world brands he’s heard Asmodeus talk about, or he might pick up something if he thinks one of his brothers might enjoy it

If you like to shop for fragrance, he’ll let you pick something out for him to try; even if he doesn’t like the scent very much personally, he slips the largest bottle into the basket if you like it on him

He might pause to look at deep black mascara and eyeliner for himself - but this trip is about you, not him

If you don’t wear makeup, or if your usual style is a no-makeup look, he might be curious about what you would look like with a smoky eye or a more bold colour on the plush lips he loves to kiss so much

He doesn’t want to try and make you feel like you need to “do more” to be beautiful in his eyes; he prefers to watch you quietly and see what products interest you and what products you avoid

He wants to remember what you like to buy, so he can buy you more as gifts later, or make sure you have replacements ready when you eventually run out

No matter what you do, you’re always beautiful to him - and he’s going to tell you all the ways he can until you believe him

He distracts you with a kiss at the checkout so he can slip the cashier his credit card when you’re too busy to protest 

“Why did you put this tube of mascara in the basket? I told you, I wasn’t looking at – oh, I see. ‘Better Than Sex,’ hmm? We’ll have test that for ourselves, won’t we?”

MAMMON

He’s always up for a shopping trip, especially if he’s not the one paying!

Browsing beauty and cosmetic shops interests him since it helps with his modeling gigs

He doesn’t mind experimenting with his hair or makeup style if it makes him look even better than he usually does

If he’s picking out things for himself, he’s always asking for your opinion - and even if you get a little bashful or blush or mumble that it’s “not bad” on him, he’s grinning and keeping note of all the things that seem to catch your eye

Even if he doesn’t want to admit it, he wants to look his best for you

If you’re shopping for yourself, he’s going to find a way to compliment almost anything you pick out - he doesn’t mind being honest with you like this when it’s just the two of you

But if you show him something that he finds particularly fetching - he might be stunned speechless just long enough for you to notice (and yes, whatever it was that caused that reaction in him, he’s 100% going to insist you add to your basket)

He dyes the tips of his hair yellow sometimes, but if you comment another colour might look good on him too - well, don’t be surprised if he happens to pick up some to try

You’ll help him with the hair dye later, right? It was your idea, after all!

Yes, he knows he can use magic to do that, but why would he pass up the chance of having your hands on him? Your hands in his hair, massaging his scalp - he can hardly wait

If he managed to knick Lucifer’s credit card (or save Goldie), then he’s offering to pay - and you just go ahead and pick up whatever you like, his treat!

If he’s flat broke, he’s giving you puppy eyes with a promise to pay you back later

“Oi! This lipstick says it’s kiss-proof. What colour do ya like? I think we should buy one as an experiment. You know, for science.”

ASMODEUS

Oh, you better not go too close to closing because he’s going to be browsing for a long time

He will walk through all the aisles, open testers to swatch colours on himself (and you, don’t even think he’s not going to spoil you on this little trip)

You’re not there to buy “just one or two things,” don’t kid yourself

There are so many new brands and product releases for Asmo to try and keep caught up on, he’s always pointing out things that are new, products that have changed or maybe ones he noticed aren’t being sold anymore

He’s going to ask you opinion on a lot of things, even the items he buys for himself - especially if they’re things he wants to share with you, like his body care or bath products

Don’t even get him started on the nail polish 

You know he’s been saving Devilgram videos of the newest trending nail looks, and he’s going to buy the supplies he needs to test them out - on him and you, of course

He’s buying nail polish to match whatever the trend is, plus some cute seasonal colours, and if any catch your eye, he’s throwing those in the (overflowing, exceedingly heavy) shopping basket(s) you’re carrying

Sometimes he buys things that remind him of you - nail polish the colour of your eyes, blush the same colour as your skin when it’s warm from his bath, lipstick the same colour of your lips after he’s kissed you breathless

He’s happy to buy literally bags' worth of items - but don’t be surprised when he whines about having to help carry them home after

“I hope you don’t have anything planned later! I think we could both use some pampering. Don’t worry if you get sleepy after, there’s room in my bed for both of us.”

BEELZEBUB

He went with you once

He’s not allowed to go shopping with you at the beauty supply store anymore

“Why does so much makeup smell like dessert foods? I thought we walked into a bakery, sorry about that.”

[kai-anderson-whore]

Hey could you write some after-party smut with evan?

Yes of course I was going to add this to the kinktober list but decided not to. Anyway hope you enjoy 😊

After party (Evan peters x fem reader smut)

Summary: you joined the ahs cast and it was the premiere of the latest season (any season you want basically) and at the after party you and Evan sneak off.

Warnings: alcohol, smut, p in v sex, handjob, wall sex, somewhat public sex too (I think that’s it)

•¤❅¤•.•°˚˚°•..•°˚˚°•.•¤❅¤•.•¤❅¤•.•°˚˚°•.

Flashing lights from different angles by the camera crew snapped pictures of you and the cast members. Officially the premiere of the new season of American horror story.

You dressed in a black lacy slip like dress with matching heels. Your makeup was a smoky eye with bouncy curls in your hair. You looked amazing and felt it. The confidence you gained with that outfit was on a whole other level and you weren't mad.

You mingled with everyone having a laugh. Soon enough it was the after party. You already feeling a buzz from the small amount of alcohol you had previously consumed. Music played everyone conversed in different parts of the place. You preferred the after party's to the premieres less of a social interaction more of a celebration.

You chatted with co-stars drinking some more alcohol. Gradually Feeling more of a buzz. You saw Evan approaching you and the three others you were talking to, you felt nervous sure you both got along great during your time filming together. But you in fact grew to have somewhat of a crush on the actor.

"Hey y/n you did great on the show" he praised, it was your first major acting gig. "Thank you Evan" you smiled taking a sip of your drink. "Can I get you another drink?" He asked seeing your drink was almost empty. "Sure" you smiled feeling butterflies in your stomach following him to the bar.

...

You didn't know how it happened one minute you were drinking at the bar with Evan next you were stumbling into a unused room with the building.

Your lips fighting for dominance your hands pushing Evan's blazer off his shoulders and on to the floor. Evan's hands on your hips holding you close to him. "God your so beautiful" he mumbled, his lips brushing against your nude lipstick covered ones.

Your lips reconnected swallowing each others moans. Evan's hands moved to the straps of your dress sliding the flimsy strap off your shoulders till the dress fell to the ground. Hands all over each other whet your desire for one another even more.

You began to unbuckle the belt holding his trousers up. Unzipped the zip of his pants, you could see the outline of his semi-hard cock. Swallowing a lump in your throat he was bigger than you expected. Slipping your hands into his boxers stroking his cock, feeling him grow harder under your touch, soft moans escaping his lips.

You smirked watching how his face showed pleasure, his hips bucking up towards your hand. You pulled your hand away from him. Evan's own hands placed themselves on the backs of your thighs "jump" he instructed which you did wrapping your legs around his waist.

You bit your lip in anticipation excited for what's to come. Your body was pinned to the wall making you shiver at the coldness. Evan moved your panties to the side lining himself up with your entrance. "Fuck" you hissed at the slight stinging sensation. "Your so wet, so tight" he groaned through gritted teeth. Your pussy greedily taking him. You felt full already and he wasn't all the way in. His cock stretching you out perfectly.

He slowly entered himself but by bit till he bottomed out. His head on your shoulder you felt so good around him already, he couldn't get enough.he started thrusting into you a hum leaving your lips, one arm wrapped around his shoulder the other tangled in his locks.

Your body jolted upwards with each thrust Evan delivered. It wasn’t like anything you had before, each thrust drive you insane better than the other. “Feel good?” Evan smirked pulling away from your neck. “Mhmm” you nodded unable to speak. “Use your words” his smirk grew knowing he had an effect on you.

“F-fuck it feels so good E-Evan” you managed to get out you grasped his tie pulling him to kiss you. Your warm lips dancing with his as he fucked you against the wall. You were sure you’d look a mess once you were done but you didn’t care all you cared about was how good Evan was making you feel.

You took Evan’s bottom lip between your teeth slightly pulling on it making him gasp. You took that opportunity to slip your tongue in his mouth exploring it. You moaned against him as his pace became more harder hitting that spot that makes you see stars.

Evan felt like he was going to explode, you felt so good around him. Warm and inviting he was addicted to you already. “I’m so close” you moaned out rather loudly, almost certain that anyone walking past would hear. “Let go, go on” Evan coaxed your orgasm a hand trailing down your body’s to your clit. You felt that knot forming rather quickly than you’d like to say.

With a few more thrusts your orgasm ripped through you.your head hung back on the wall, hips bucking up against Evan. His thrusts got more sloppy till his own high followed a few seconds later.

You both calmed down your legs still wrapped securely around Evan’s waist scared in case your legs won’t work in your favour. Carefully Evan placed you on the floor, you held onto his shoulders to steady yourself with shaky legs. You scurried around to find your dress and fix your panties while Evan tucked himself back into his trousers.

“We should get back to the party” Evan spoke up after a brief moment of silence. “Yeah we should” you giggled lightly noticing that his tie was all disheveled. You fixed his tie for him before leaving the room discreetly luckily no one show you both.

“Where were you two” your co-star Finn asked when you walked back into the room everyone was in. You froze on the spot trying to think of an excuse. “Y/n needed fresh air it’s too hot in here and we were having a conversation so I went with her” Evan said you mentally thanked him.

“Okay well come on let’s get another drink” Finn says dragging you both to grab a drink.

[yallthemwitches]

A Trick of the Light

Posting the @jilytoberfest Day 13, Muggle technology prompt early because I made it a combo with the Day 10 Matching making parents one and didn't post that day.

Finally getting mileage out of my HC that Euphemia worked for the Statute of Secrecy dept---I'll let you decide if James is just oblivious or hiding something more. ;)

AO3 Link Here

“James, darling you have to be careful with it–”

“I am being careful with it!”

“Smashing it with your wand is hardly careful.”

Euphemia smacks the hands of her son away, moving her finger deftly over the piece of machinery. The projector whirs to life, blinking a white square of light onto the wall of the Potter library—clicking a few times until a burst of figures in saturated color fill the space.

“There–see? What do I always tell you? Muggle things need care and patience–”

James isn’t listening, instead a grin widens at the images now dancing on the wall. 

“---two attributes you could afford to foster into your love life–”

James’ head snaps around. His mum winks one eye closed and sticks out her tongue. 

“Wow—bloody brilliant. Now you give me relationship advice.” He is only half serious. “I’ve already told you, there’s nothing between us…we’re just friends.”

“Just friends.”

“Yeah, mum, just friends.”

Euphemia flashes her eyes towards the projection than back at her son. “You're just friends yet you’ve made me pull out my one prized muggle artifact so she can be impressed by it.”

“You know it's not like that–,” he scans the room, knowing that if he allows eye contact he’s completely done for, “I just—I thought it would be nice.”

“Don’t see you pulling out the telephone for Remus just to be nice.”

“Merlin’s balls you’re worse than Sirius sometimes!” He waits for her to scold him about his crass language, but instead she picks some dust off her velvet robes, mouth pursed in amusement. Sometimes he wonders if he is the adopted son and Sirius is the true Potter of the family.

“You said she likes film—do you know which type?”

Any annoyance at his mum fades away as he thinks back at all the conversations he had with Lily last year. He tries to cut through the memory and only focus on her words, but gets stuck on the animated way her hands moved when talking about a particularly good film, how her eyes lit up while saying words like shot, composition, dialogue—words that were entirely meaningless to him alone, but with her they might as well be ancient spells. 

“I remember her talking about this one bloke--a director named Qewb...Kurb...Keyu…”

“Kubrick,” she laughs and shakes her head, “Oh wow, the ministry has been trying to obliviate him for years. He will be thrilled to hear he has a fan in the wizarding community.”

James eyes light up, lunging for his mum.

“You know him? Brilliant! Can he visit while she’s here?”

Euphemia’s eyes narrow and the smoky makeup makes them look like two billowing storm clouds.

“So let me get this straight. You want me to invite a very busy, very infamous muggle director—whom my business relationship consists mainly of mild threats and silence agreements—to our house for a girl that you don’t feel any attraction for.”

“I don’t appreciate you wording it like that—but yes.”

Euphemia eyes her son for a moment then stands, feeling somewhere between defeated and silly for even trying to unravel the intricacies of teenage boy.

“Well, I think I’ve contributed enough,” she sighs, making sure he can catch the sarcasm dripping from her voice, “wouldn’t want you to overdo it for just a silly Head Student preparation meeting.”

She walks to the door, knowing her son is watching her with an expression of embarrassment and defeat. Before crossing the threshold, she whips around and her earrings tinkle against her neck, getting matted into her unruly black hair. 

“Oh and James, darling?” He looks up from the figures still floating across the way, clearly focusing less on the film and more on whatever they symbolize in his personal life. 

“Do put some blankets and pillows down for you both to lay on—wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable during your film experience.”

She shut the door, watching red billow its way onto her son's cheeks, wondering how her son had become such a bad liar.

[stabbyfoxandrew]

Happy Wednesday, Aerie! I'm loving the Mer Roadtrip AU, you're an incredible writer <3 I can't wait to see Neil's daring escape. Angel Neil for this week, as always, and I hope it gives you less trouble this week. I'm slowly collecting more questions I come up with about the AU in a silly little text file, so one day I can send you another ask (yes, Angel Neil consumes my thoughts on occasion). I hope you have a lovely week (even if it sometimes feels hard to get anything done, there's always the next day, yk?)

WIP Wednesday (5/8) | Guardian Angel Neil AU (Part 185)

On Friday night, Andrew finds himself perched on the back of the couch waiting for everyone else to put the finishing touches on their atrocious costumes. Well, he and Kevin are already done, but Nicky is debating whether he should wear the eyepatch that came with his pirate-suit.

“I sincerely think it’s a bad idea,” Kevin says from beside Andrew. He is sitting on the couch the correct way, but looking over the back of it at Nicky. He looks completely normal, his ‘costume’ even worse than Andrew’s. And sure to be lost by the end of the night. “I mean, you’re driving.”

“I think he could get us there with it on,” Andrew says, grinning. “It would be a fun challenge for you.”

“No, Kevin’s right,” Nicky says, tossing the strip of fabric onto the counter. “Besides, it would mess up my makeup.”

“I can’t believe that’s the problem you have with it,” Kevin mutters. But Andrew understands Nicky’s concern. His eyeshadow actually looks sort of good, a lot of smoky black with a bit of orange glitter mixed in. Andrew doesn’t know makeup terms. He’s never worn it himself, except for a tiny bit of eyeliner he tried once in Cass’s bathroom. He scrubbed it off immediately after.

“I can’t believe your costume is a tiny piece of plastic in your pocket,” Nicky pouts.

Kevin sighs. “Why would I pay forty bucks for a shitty cape and a vial of fake blood when the plastic fangs suffice? It makes no sense to spend a lot of money for one night!”

“You’ll get married in an exy uniform, won’t you?” Nicky asks, shaking his head. The parrot pinned to his shoulder flops around a bit making the bird look drunk. “I mean, you’re almost as bad as Andrew over here.”

Andrew is offended. He would never get married in an exy anything. He wouldn’t get married, period.

“At least my costume is visible,” Andrew says, pointing to the top of his head where sits a headband with a couple of pokey little horns sticking out of his hair.

“Barely,” Nicky tuts. “You need a haircut, you can barely see them. Where’s the tail?”

“I am not wearing something that sticks off my ass. Ever. Especially not at Eden’s.” Andrew says, holding his hands up. “Kevin, would you like to borrow it?”

“No,” Kevin snaps. “The teeth are fine.”

[she-karev]

The Wedding (Andrew DeLuca x Alex Karev’s Sister Wedding Imagine)

Age Rating: 12+

Chapters: One of One

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy

Ship: Andrew DeLuca x Amber Karev (Alex Karev’s Sister)

Canon Episode: Season 17 Episode 17

AN: Happy Holidays everyone! Here’s the day you’ve all been waiting for the day DeLuca gets married to an original character that we all wish happened instead of the moment that shall not be mentioned. Like and reblog below and let me know what you think.

Summary: Andrew DeLuca and Amber Karev get married at city hall with their friends and family witnessing it.

Words: 1653

December 26th, 2020

Andrew exhales anxiously outside the courthouse building waiting with Alex Karev and Jackson Avery. He checks his watch telling him their appointment is in five minutes. DeLuca rubs his cold hands blowing a warm breath in them due to the cold and rainy Seattle weather that the men shield themselves in under the awning looking over the down steps.

Andrew shudders from the cold as his impatience grows, “We said 7 with Carmichael and she is punctual where could she be?”

“Maybe they got the wrong address?” Jackson says as he shivers from the wind, “Or maybe the traffic is jammed.”

“Maybe she bailed.” Alex bluntly puts out there with the men glaring at him causing him to shrug, “I’m just saying it wouldn’t be the first wedding we’ve been to where the bride ran away, right Avery?”

“You’re not helping.” Jackson responds with a frown before getting a text that makes him relax, “She’s here, the girls are on their way right now.”

Andrew exhales in relief and joy, “Grazie a dio.”

The men wait for a few moments before they see a group descending up the stairs with umbrellas being shown first. The women appear side by side with each of them wearing a pretty dress for the occasion and the bride taking the middle with Andrew caught frozen and awestruck at the sight that grows closer.

He sees Amber Karev wearing a beautiful A-Line white gown that hugs her bodice with the skirt being lifted by her and Carina who helps. Her face is just as perfect with makeup that is well done with a smoky eye and a peach pink lipstick that goes well with her complexion. Her hair is done in pretty waves that highlight her dark blonde color. He is still frozen as his fiancé appears right in front of him with a smile as she looks over him in his tieless suit.

“You look great.” Amber greets with a smile.

“You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.” Andrew says once his brain functions with Amber smiling at him before kissing him in front of the group who look away respectfully before they break up.

“Are you ready to get married?”

“I’ve been ready for three years.” Andrew answers back before putting his black mask on with Amber putting her white one on before they enter the building.

Their guests follow them as they go to the information booth and check themselves in. They go to the fifth floor as instructed and knock on the door of 504 before a black woman in her 60’s answers and lets them inside. She takes them through the chairs and gate before stopping in front of the bench.

“Okay couple at the bench and guests at the gallery.” The guests do as instructed going to the very front of the gallery where they can watch the couple get married as close as they can, “I trust that you two already signed and delivered the license?”  

Amber grins behind her mask, “Oh don’t worry your honor I have made it a point not to repeat my brothers’ mistakes.”

“You know I can yell I object if the judge calls for it.” Alex says amused.

Andrew answers for them to get the process going, “Yes we already signed it out front now we just want a ceremony to complete it with our friends and family to witness. So how does this work? It’s our first courthouse wedding we’ve been to let along participated in.”

“It’s fairly simple.” The judge explains, “I recite the state marriage vow with your full legal names and give out instructions for you to follow. You either say I do or one of you runs out while the other demands security to tackle and beat you up.”

Amber chuckles at that, “You make it sound like it happens just as much as the I do.”

“You’d be surprised.” Judge Carmichael answers blankly with Andrew furrowing his eyebrows curious before she starts, “Okay masks off we’re about to start.”

The couple take off their masks that they loop around their wrists like bracelets before the judge starts, “We are here to celebrate the marriage vows on this Saturday of December 26th, 2020, between…”

Andrew answers for himself, “Andrea Vincenzo DeLuca.”

“Amber Stevie Karev and no that is not a name I made up my parents wanted to set my future for either stripper or broke musician.” The bride chuckles with Andrew grinning at her but the judge is unamused with a thin line on her face. Amber frowns and clears her throat, “Wow tough courtroom. You can keep going.”

The judge continues, “Andrea Vincenzo DeLuca and Amber Stevie Karev. A marriage is a ceremony of expressed love, and it also represents one of life’s greatest commitments conducted in a public and meaningful manner. Please join hands, face each other and affirm that you do.”

Amber and Andrew join hands facing each other as they gaze into one another’s eyes with their guests watching in awe at the couple who have been through so much and deserve this happy moment.

“Do you Andrea Vincenzo DeLuca take Amber Stevie Karev to be your lawful wedded wife, and will you pledge to her your love and honor, your faithfulness and tenderness, and promise to cherish and care for her according to the laws of man and the ordinance of God in the Holy Bond of Matrimony?”

“I do.” Andrew answers with a smile at his wife who smiles at his response before the judge addresses her now.

“And do you Amber Stevie Karev take Andrea Vincenzo DeLuca to be your lawful wedded husband, and will you pledge to him your love and honor, your faithfulness and tenderness, and promise to cherish and care for him according to the laws of man and the ordinance of God, in the Holy Bond of Matrimony?”

“You bet I do.” Amber answers as well getting lost in her soon to be husband's green eyes.

“Please recite your vows after me, I, Andrea Vincenzo DeLuca…”

For the next few minutes, the judge recites the required state vows that the couple repeats with no hesitation from either of them. As they recite these vows, they stare at each other overcome with the presence of one another on this joyous occasion that feels long overdue for them.

Amber listens to Andrew recite his vows that sound bland but to her sound like him declaring his love for her. The last year has been hell for them but right now Amber is grateful that those awful moments led her to this one where she is completely sure of who she wants to spend the rest of her life with. She is sure that she loves Andrew forever and wants to show it to him and their loved ones right here and now.

Andrew stares at Amber as she recites her vows before the judge getting lost in her blue eyes that make his heart skip a beat every time. From the moment he met her he has been falling in love with her and has never stopped. The only time he can think when he didn’t want to be with her was when he was manic, and he lashed out at her and hurt her in ways she has been hurt before.

Despite his actions during that time he has been trying to make it up to her and earn her trust back bit by bit. It was hard work and a part of him wondered if she would ever fully let him in again but it was worth every effort if it meant being in this moment with her where she shows his efforts weren’t for nothing as she vows to love him in sickness and in health that is answer enough for them rising above what his illness broke. They are at the end of the line when the judge gives instructions for both of them.

“Now exchange the rings.”

Amber starts sliding a silver wedding band on Andrew’s wedding finger, “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Hell yes.” Andrew answers sliding the ring onto his soon to be wife’s finger, “Do you?”

Amber smiles holding his hands, “More than I expected.”

“Good.” Andrew says with a grin, “Because I’m not letting you walk away from me this time.”

“I’m holding you to that.” Amber warns with a knowing smile before the judge continues.

“May the circles of your wedding rings remind you of your unending love for each other. They are tokens of love and faithfulness and symbols of eternity. Please repeat after me: With this ring I thee wed.”

“With this ring I thee wed.” Andrew repeats looking at Amber with so much love.

“With this ring I thee wed.” Amber follows anxious with joy of the judge finishing the ceremony and them leaving as a married couple.

The judge makes a last statement, “By the power vested in me by the state of Washington, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss.”

Andrew and Amber immediately kiss after with her wrapping her arms around his shoulder blades and his arms around her waist. While they kiss they can hear their witnesses cheering and whooping from the gallery with someone playing All You Need is Love by the Beatles on their phone.

The couple pull apart chuckling before greeting their loved ones as a married couple with all of them congratulating them and hugging them. Carina chuckles hugging her now married brother with Alex hugging his sister.

Carina exhales exhausted with a smile pulling back from her love-struck brother, “Finalmente!”

“You said it.” Alex shares also relieved that this moment finally happened for his sibling.

Amber and Andrew chuckle at their exasperated older siblings before walking out of the room hand in hand as husband and wife.

[hotdilfs11]

Mafia Boss- Thomas Shelby x Reader pt 3

Rest of the parts

✩summary: The Shelby knew this girl when she was very little. However, when her mother passed away (at 16) everything changed and everyone drifted away from each other. Now after seven years Veronica is a mafia boss in her fathers business. Her father sent her to Birmingham on business, will this play off well?

✩pairings:girl named Veronica(POC) x Thomas Shelby

✩warnings: none

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

I got out of the hot, steamy bathroom, leaving a trail of wet footprints going to my room. I sit at my makeup table, wrapped in my fluffy white robe. I started to moisturize and prep my face, then started to put some makeup on. I do my signature look that I always do for parties. I did a dark smoky eye with a wing, and then I lined my lips with black as I started to put on dark red lipstick. I blended my lips together so my lips could look like a dark Gothic red. I start with my hair, doing something very simple to it.

I looked behind one of the doors in my room to see two dresses on the hook. One said Ambrose and the other said dad in cursive, and of course I picked Ambrose’s dress because he knows how I dress and how I like my clothes to be fitted. I placed the black zip-up bag on my king-sized bed, and as I laid it down, I started to zip the black bag down, revealing a long, elegant, off-the-shoulder silky black dress that also matched two pairs of black gloves that came up my arms. As I put on the dress, I felt the nice silky material sliding up my curves. As it was fully on my body, I zip up the dress, and the fabric started to hug every curve on my body, making me feel prestigious and elegant. I slip on the black silky gloves to go with it and then put on my simple black heels. I get a black clutch, and then I walk out the door as my two bodyguards follow me out of the room.

It took at least 50 minuted to get to Tommys house. As we start to pull up to his driveway, I look out the window to see his gorgeous house. He had expensive cars parked along his concrete driveway as for his house its a brick house with huge windows and a black design going along the roofing of the house. His house was lit up as we entered it, parking right in front of the long, sleek oval door.

My heart started racing. I felt like I couldn’t breath for a minute. I was so nervous to see them after seven years. The door swung open to reveal the entrance to the house. I was unsure about going into this house; I didn’t feel strong enough, but I had to be; that's part of the job. "Are you okay, madam?” Dante said to me in concern, reaching out his hand.

I took a deep breath and said, “Yes, I’m fine, Dante." I took his hand as he guided me out of the car. I see people standing outside giving me stares as two six-foot-tall body guards stand behind me, following my every move. I enter the Peaky Blinders house, greeted by a maid. ”Hello, miss, everyone is in the ballroom; I’ll take you there," she says tiredly. I nodded my head and started following her to the ballroom.

As I entered the room, my eyes lit up. It was so beautiful in the ballroom, which I'd never seen before. There's a bar, a stage, and a place where people are sitting and dancing. It amazed me for some odd reason.

I start to scan the room looking for Tommy, and then I finally spot him. He looks smug, with jet-black hair and a black suit; he has a medium build and steel blue eyes. He was sitting by the bar, drinking whisky and smoking by himself. He looks much older now, with a rough, traumatized look. He doesn’t look as happy anymore, and now I’m kind of regretting saying yes to my father. To think of it, I regret not saying no to my father when he took me away from here. My guilt started to crept in about everything that went down, but I have to be calm.

”Let's go, gentlemen," I say nonchalantly to my bodyguards as I start to walk up to Thomas Shelby. As I sit at the bar, my bodyguards hold back a little bit, trying to blend in with the crowd a little bit. The waiter comes up to me and asks what I want to drink.

”Bourbon, please,” I mouthed.

As the waiter gave me my drink, Tommy gave me a quick glance and continued to drink his drink, not even halfway recognizing me.

I look at Tommy with a grin on my face and say, "Thomas fucking Shelby, you got old mate."

He looked at me in confusion as I looked away from him swiftly. I took a little sip of it as the cold, hard liquid slid down my throat, feeling a burning sensation.

Tommy says as he squints his eyes, Excuse me?"

I looked at him and smiled, saying, "Hello to you too, Tommy."

"Bloody hell, Ronnie?" He says as he blinks rapidly, "You’ve changed a lot."

"You did too, Tommy. How are you?"

"I’m fine. When did you get here?” He has a deep, husky English accent.

Um, just yesterday, I said to him as I looked deep into his eyes, unable to get out of this trance.

He smiled, wow... Uh, why are you here?"

I chuckled and looked away from him, taking another sip of my drink. "Uh, I... not under good circumstances."

"What are the circumstances, love? He looked at her with concern. I couldn’t look at him at all, and I couldn't put my words together to begin to tell him the main reason I’m here. I still feel guilty and slightly selfish about this whole situation. Without warning, Tommy gently lifts up my chin with the tip of his index finger and middle finger, making me look at him. “Ronnie, what is it?"

"If I knew it was you, I wouldn't have been here, but my father was being coy and never told me.” I look down at my drink in guilt, snatching Tommy's hand away. ”Veronica, look at me," he demanded. I looked at him in worry, still trying to collect my words.

"What is it?" he says.

I sigh, “Ok, look, Tommy, I know you're the leader of Peaky Blinders. I just found out today.” I keep a strong look on my face.

He paused for a moment, rubbing his face. Okay?"

"My father and I want business with you, so you work for me and you get paid. I try to say it confidently.

He looked at me and thought for a minute.

"Can we discuss this somewhere else, Tommy?"

”Uh, yeah, I need to get the others, then we can go in my office," he says bluntly. He gets off the stool and walks away in a quick motion. I see him walk up to the other Shelbys. John, Arthur, and Polly all look over at me, but I look away quickly, feeling guilty about this whole situation.

As I’m drinking the rest of my drink, Tommy comes up to me and says, “Ok, come on, we're going to go in my office and you can go into more detail, yeah?"

Ok," I say with a mean look.

As I got up and started walking with Tommy by my side, I felt a slight pressure form on my back. I look down and realize it's Tommy's hand on my back, and as we got closer to his office, his hand started to move lower and lower down my back. I lost my breath trying not to show Tommy how nervous I am. I missed him graciously and how he was always touchy with me or how protective he was, but when I left, I learned how to protect myself.

"Right this way," he says as I walk into this dark, mysterious office. The lights were kind of dim, and the whole office had a dark brown undertone to it.

"Hey V," someone said in a deep voice. I was confused by that one voice until I realized that only one person in this world calls me V, and that's John Shelby. I reached out my hand to greet John, amazed at how he looked. Then my eyes started to wander around the room to see Polly and Arthur.

”Hey" Poll said with tears in her eyes, reaching her arms, feeling vulnerable, at the moment I ran into her arms, missing the feeling that Polly was like another mother to me, I turned to Arthur and smiled as he collided into me.

I stand back, looking at Tommy, putting a mean look on my face, knowing I’m only here to talk business. I try not to show vulnerability; instead, I insert dominance as I start to walk over to Thomas desk. “Ok, so let's talk business,” I demanded.

Thomas followed me and sat at his desk, looking up at me. "So what’s this offer?"

I turn to him and say, “You'll be working for me, doing tasks, doing certain jobs for me. When I tell you to do something, you do it; that's how you get paid.” I said as I crossed my arms.

"So we're basically like a fucking lap dog," John says with an aggressive tone. I look at John and say, “Honestly, you are; however, you're going to be making money out of it. Now that I've looked at your history with everyone you worked with, I can tell you didn’t make shit.”

Thomas concern raises, "How do you know that?"

”It's not your business to know; your business is to work under me and get paid. Now if you do a job for me, you’ll get paid two days after. “I say, Make eye contact with everyone in the room.

"How much?" Polly looked at me.

"One hundred and ninety thousand dollars, and if the job is serious, then a quarter of a million dollars."

"Fucking hell," Arthur said with his rustic accent.

”However, I’m giving you this warning now if you want to work with me." I put my hands on the desk, leaning towards everyone in the room.

"You fuck me over, I come for you, you understand? “I said this with a cold look on my face, looking down at everyone, especially Tommy. "I want loyalty and fucking commitment. yeah?" I’m still looking dead into Tommy's eyes as he starts to nod at what I just said to him.

I start to look at Tommy's desk, finding a notepad and a pen scribbling down something. "Now meet me at 4 p.m. at The Garrison, yeah? the one you guys own?” I said this as I gave the notepad to Tommy. He looked at me with a gleaming expression, surprised by my dominance. He doesn't remember me like this; none of them do.

"How do you know that?" Tommy said as he suspected something of me.

"Because I do," I say in a quick response.

”Guys, will you excuse us? I want to talk to Miss Hawthorne alone, please," he says, demanding everyone out of the room.

I took Polly's seat and crossed my legs, looking into Thomas eyes. "Why are you acting like this? I don-.”

I cut him off mid-sentence. "Because I have too, you should understand this, Tommy." I sigh. “Look, Tommy, this is my job; I cannot give you guys special treatment.” I stand up, walking over to Tommy's desk.

"Now, you make your decision now or tomorrow." He stands up, looks me dead in the eyes, and says, "Tomorrow will do, Ronnie."

I nodded to him while walking away. I could feel his eyes on me as I walked towards the door. I twist the nob and open the door to see two of my bodyguards guarding Tommy's office. ”Let's go, gentlemen," I say to my bodyguards as I walk away from his office.

[pannman]

Alastor's mistake

Charlie x Vaggie

Cw: suggestive at the end

Apparently Alastor might become like a father figure to Charlie which inspired this fic

Charlie sprayed herself with a small spritz of perfume and finished up her makeup. She took a step back to assess herself. She was wearing a short black dress with a sharp v line neck that made her cleavage just visible. The dress itself hugged her curves just right and it gave her that hourglass figure that was just wow. Her long blonde hair was braided and wrapped to form a top bun. All that was left was her mother's pearl necklace that drew the attention upwards.

"You look gorgeous" Vaggie said standing in her doorway unable to take her eyes off of Charlie in that dress. Charlie met her gaze and smiled "so do you" Vaggie was wearing a red dress that fit perfectly in all the right places but it was her eyes that Charlie was particularly entranced by. She had done a smoky eye affect with her makeup that made them absolutely pop. Vaggie noticed Charlie struggling to get her necklace on. "Need some help?" She asked. "Yes thanks" Charlie answered slightly flustered. Only Vaggie could make her feel like this. Vaggie hooked Charlie's necklace together around her and wrapped her arms around her as they looked at themselves in the mirror. "I'm so glad we finally have a break from the hotel so we can go out and have a night with just the two of us" Charlie spoke as if in a dream. "Me too. Come on let's go." Vaggie gently grabbed Charlie by the hand to lead her out the room. Clearly excited about their date night. "Wait. You go on ahead I'll meet you there." Charlie said. Vaggie stopped "what? Why?" Charlie didn't want Vaggie to think she had anything more important to do than spend the evening with her so she decided to be honest. "I have a surprise planned for you and I need to get it ready. I'll be there no later than 20 minutes. You go, get us a table and I'll be there very soon." Vaggie was immediately touched and agreed.

Charlie headed downstairs to get the surprise ready. All she needed was for them to show up so she could pay them and tell them where to meet her. When she came down she was surprised they hadn't shown up yet. Her attire did not go unnoticed by the others. "Oh, you're looking hot as fire. Got big plans or something?" Angel asked. Charlie wondered if anyone had saw Vaggie leave. "Well I'm actually meeting Vaggie for a date night at a very high class restaurant here in pentagram city" she replied. You could hear what sounded like a record scratching or nails on a chalk board. Alastor approached swiftly. "Not in that you're not" and with a snap of his fingers Charlie's outfit completely changed to a bright pink old timey dress that went down to her ankles. This... was not the vibe she was going for however. "Um, Alastor I appreciate whatever it is your trying to do but Vaggie likes me in this dress" as she said that she snapped her fingers instantly changing back. Alastor snapped his fingers again putting her back in the modest outfit he picked. "I think if you're going to classy place you'll want wear something classy don't you think?" He grinned. Charlie began to get annoyed as she snapped her fingers switching back once again. "Alastor I'm wearing this. This is fine." Alastor's grin grew tighter and you could cut the tension in the air with a knife. "Very well" he caved. "But at least wear a jacket. You'll catch a cold." And he snapped his finger once more putting her in a jacket. "Alright I'll wear the jacket." She didn't wanna be late so she settled for a compromise this time.

"Hey, has anyone come by the hotel? I'm expecting someone before I head out." She was surprised they weren't there yet. "Why yes. A group of gentlemen came by saying they were a live band and that they were supposed to meet someone here but since I hadn't heard anything about it I figured they must have the wrong address." Charlie was about to have a heart attack. "Al! I was the one they were supposed to meet! I was going to pay them and make arrangements for them to meet us at the park. I was gonna surprise Vaggie with a dance!" Charlie was trying to maintain her composure but now she didn't know what to do. Vaggie was expecting some kind of special surprise and she had nothing. "Well if you were planning on dancing you really should've heeded my advice. That outfit is not as suited for the waltz" Alastor said as if he were oblivious to his own mistake. "Alastor! This is serious I told Vaggie that I had a surprise for her. You know, just because we're business partners does not mean I'm have to tell you everything. You could've told them to wait here." Alastor's carefree expression did not change in the slightest. Charlie could see she wasn't getting anywhere with him so she just sighed. "I guess I'll have to think of something in the moment." She looked at her watch and her eyes practically popped out of head. "I'm gonna be late!" She took off and made her way to the restaurant rather frustrated with Alastor. How he could just send them away like that? She tried to control her anxiety about what to tell Vaggie especially since she's already late.

Charlie arrived and searched for Vaggie. She spotted her at a table by herself near the window. "Uh, wow. That took longer than expected sorry" Charlie said sitting down. "That's ok. I'm just really excited to see what you have planned." Vaggie exclaimed. Charlie's thoughts raced through her head. She tried to think something, anything, that she could come up with on the fly. Maybe we can stop and see a movie, or... suddenly the waiter showed up asking if they were ready to order. Throughout the night Charlie was too busy talking to Vaggie and ordering dessert and such to come up with a new surprise. Finally she paid the bill. "So, what's this super special surprise you got for me?" Vaggie asked as she put on her coat. "Ugghh... it's back at the hotel" Charlie lied. She realized finally that if she couldn't think of anything she would just have to come clean and tell Vaggie there was no surprise. She... she would just tell her that she had something planned but messed it up. The ride home she was a bit tense and Vaggie seemed to pick up on it. She gave her a look of concern but Charlie tried to act as if everything was fine.

They arrived at the hotel and walked inside. Charlie went to hang up her coat. As she did she decided to tell Vaggie the truth. "Look Vaggie there's something I-" she was interrupted by music playing and looked up to see Vaggie entranced as a live band of Alastor's shadows performed on stage and the hotel lobby had been decorated with a dance floor. Candles created dim lighting and Husk had already poured them each a glass of wine. Charlie tried not to act as astonished as she was. Vaggie threw her arms around her. "Oh my gosh it's amazing! Why were you so nervous earlier? I love it!" Vaggie exclaimed. Charlie smiled and hugged her back. "I just wanted our first night to ourselves in a while to be perfect" she answered, which was true. Vaggie excused herself to the bathroom real quick and Alastor walked over. "I can't believe you did all this?!?" Charlie was blown away. "Well I figured it was my fault that you're plans went awry so I decided to correct my mistake." Alastor explained. Charlie smiled and resisted the urge to hug him, knowing he wasn't fond of that sort of thing. "Thank you Alastor" Charlie took a sip of her wine. "Don't mention it my dear. But one more thing" he said catching her attention. "That sure is a lovely dress you're wearing" he grinned as we walked away swiftly. "Why thank yo-" she stopped as she looked down to see she was no longer wearing her black dress but the long old timey one Alastor had tried to get her to wear. "AAALLL!!!" she groaned. Vaggie giggled "I like that dress too" she had just returned. "You do?" Charlie asked surprised. "Yeah it leaves more up to the imagination" she replied suggestively. Charlie grinned. "Well after our dance tonight maybe you could help me take it off." Charlie flirted. Vaggie stepped closer. "I'd like that" she then grabbed Charlie's hand and lead her onto the dance floor where they danced the night away. And it was a night they would never forget.

[persephonewritessometimes]

me and the devil / hotch x reader / chapter one

Summary: It seems like another night at work, but will the dark-haired man Y/N keeps eyeing finally say hello to her?

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x AFAB Reader

Word Count: 2367

Warnings: strip club, cursing, hotch being kind of creepy, pole dancing

Key: y/n = your name

me and the devil series masterlist

This work is meant for readers aged 18 and over. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

The drive to the club is short, as it’s only fifteen minutes from my apartment, but I drag it out as long as I can, driving under the speed limit with all my windows down, blasting music trying to drown out all my thoughts. I get to the club only a few minutes later than normal, park, roll up my windows, and rest my forehead on the steering wheel. Dancing is the last thing I want to do after the day I had, but I have to make money. I hear a tap on my driver’s side window, and groan, sitting back up. It’s just Tia, grinning at me. I smile back. Tia’s one of my closest friends at the club, seeing as she took me under her wing the first time I showed up to start dancing. I motion at her to move out of the way, grab my bag, and get out of my shit-box excuse of a car.

         “You okay today, Y/N? Bad day at school?” Tia asks, slinging her arm around me as we make our way to the side door of the Cat Scratch Club.

         “Something like that. Do you know how many of my patients vomited and or shit themselves today?" Tia fakes a gag.

         "Do I really want to know?”

         “No. I’ll spare you the details. But hey, just one more semester, and I graduate with my BSN. Then it’s off to take the NCLEX and find a job in a busy city’s emergency room.”

         “That’s my Y/N, thriving in the chaos!” Tia exclaims, and I chuckle. The bouncer, Alex, waves us in and we make our way back to the locker room. Tia takes a shower as I get ready. It’s a Friday night, and even though we’re just a shitty town in Virginia, the local FBI agents tend to come out in droves tonight. They’re most likely tired of the stressful jobs they keep and look to us girls for a little bit of excitement in their routine lives. I go through my skincare routine and start on my makeup. Even though it’s usually fairly dark in the club, it’s important to wear makeup, just as an enhancement of our natural beauty. I’m finishing up my eyeshadow, today opting for a smoky look with a dramatic cat eye when Tia returns from the shower.

         “Damn look at you!” She says, sitting down next to me to start her own makeup routine. She likes to wear a lot of fake rhinestones on her face, and they look so pretty on her. She’s been begging me to let her put some on my face.

         “Think it would look better with some rhinestones?” I ask with a sly smile, and she squeals.

         "Yes, bitch of course it would! Let me do my makeup first, and then I’ll put some on you!” She rushes through her makeup, as both of us are very practiced at this routine. I put on some false eyelashes while I wait and then Tia asks me to face her so she can put gems on me. She settles on a half-moon of star rhinestones along the outline of my eyeshadow. I look at myself in the mirror and my jaw drops a little bit. I look sexy – very much unlike the day version of myself.

         “What are you wearing tonight?” Tia says, slipping into a see-through purple dress and a matching G-string.

         “I actually got something new!” I dig around in my bag and pull out my newest set – it’s a black corset top that I almost spill out of and a high-waisted black satin thong to go with it.

         “You’re gonna make so much money tonight,” Tia says as I slip out of my sweats and cropped tank and into my outfit.

         “Hey bitches! We’ve got a full house tonight!” Gina, the house mom, shouts as she makes her way into the noisy locker room. “Lots of FBI agent’s girls, you know the drill.”

         “Get them drunk and bleed them dry!” We shout back and she chuckles.

         “Think your guy is gonna be here?” Tia asks as I slip into my heels.

         “I don’t know. He doesn’t show up every week,” I say, buckling the left shoe before moving onto the right one. “And he hasn’t even approached me yet so I wouldn’t call him ‘my guy’.”

         “Whatever you say, sugar. I see the way you literally undress him with your eyes every time he’s here.” She says, winking at me.

         “TIA! SHUT UP!” I say, smacking her shoulder before getting up and putting my stuff in my locker, locking it with a red lock when I’m done. We make our way out into the main area of the club after that, and split up, each having our regulars to deal with.

         I just finished giving Edward a lap dance when I see him. “My man,” as Tia likes to call him. He’s leaning against the bar, sipping what looks to be whiskey and our eyes lock. He’s been coming for about four months now but has never gotten close enough for me to say hello. I don’t know if I’d even be able to say hello if I got the chance. To say he’s intimidating is an understatement. The man oozes power just in the way he holds himself. He’s over six-foot, with dark hair and dark eyes to match. Something about him makes the alarms in my head go off, he seems dangerous, someone I shouldn’t mess with, but I feel drawn to him all the same. I’m about to get up the nerve to go and talk to him when a man with a goatee approaches him. Wait, I know him. Derek Morgan. That’s his name. He’s a regular here, and he’s nice and always pays well. He’s definitely a player though. The dark-haired man’s eyes never leave me despite talking to Derek, and Derek takes notice of this, following the man’s line of sight and grinning when he sees me. I’m saved from any interaction when my stage name is called to get ready for my set on the pole. I wait for Tiffany to bag up the money from her set and fling my hair over my shoulder. I look out over the crowd and see several people turning their attention from each other to the stage. I get butterflies in my stomach, just like I did when I auditioned, but I shake them off. I’ve done this too many times to get nervous. I make a show of fixing my shoe (that didn’t need fixing) bending over slowly and fidgeting with it, giving the club a generous view of my backside. Someone hoots and I bite back a grin, trying to maintain my image of a sensual seductress. I slide back up, running my hands over my hips and my chest, then to my hair, under the guise that fixing my hair again was my only intention. A brief glance at the crowd shows that even more people are watching now, and Tiffany’s done, so that’s my cue.

         I stalk onto the stage; people cheer, and I walk right up to the pole waiting for my music to start. “Closer” by Nine Inch Nails, starts playing and I sway my hips to the beat. When the words start, I grab the pole, swinging around with ease, wrapping one of my legs around it. I hear Tia cheer from somewhere in the club and I smile at that. When the chorus starts, I place both my arms on the pole, supporting my upper body as I contort my body to show off my assets. I dismount with ease, the crowd cheering and throwing money as I reset my position on the pole, now walking my way up it. My core burns, but I know I look hot as fuck when I do this if the money being thrown on stage is any indication. When the second chorus starts, I dismount getting on all fours and crawling towards the end of the stage. Several men come up to the end of the stage, all holding money, and I slowly make my way up, arching my back and putting on a show. Thankfully, these men are all respectful, tucking money into the sides of my thong and under the straps of my corset. I blow them a kiss and go into a floor routine. Those years as a competitive dancer really paid off, it seems. It’s getting closer to the end of the song, and I can feel his eyes on me. I easily spot him in the crowd, standing with his friend Derek and watching me with dark eyes. I put my all into the rest of my routine, coy yet lustful. On the last note, I blow him a kiss and the corners of his stern mouth actually quirk up in a smile. I blush at that, and Gina hands me my money bag to collect everything I earned. It’s a lot and takes a couple of minutes. I take my bag back to the locker room and lock it up quickly.

         “BITCH I SAW YOU WINK AT HIM!” I hear Tia shout from behind me, and I chuckle. “Feeling bold tonight, are we? Now all you have to do is actually talk to him.” I groan at that. “Hey, it looks like he’s friends with our very own Derek Morgan, maybe that’s your ticket in?”

         “Could be. If I’m going to talk to him, I need a drink though.”

         “Well, you’re in luck.” Tia rustles around in her back and pulls out two shooters.

         “Bitch, Gina will beat our ass if we have a drink that’s not from the bar!” I whisper, grabbing the shooter from her.

         “Then drink quickly! Drinks here are expensive as fuck!” We crack the caps off and down the shooters quickly. She takes the little bottle from me, shoving them back into her bag. I don’t drink that often, so I always feel it quickly. My body is warm, from the alcohol and the general heat level in the locker room, and I sling my arms around Tia.

         “Love you, girl,” I say, kissing her cheek.

         “Save it for your man! You’re sappy as hell when you drink.” She chuckles, removing my arms from her. “Come on, let’s go make some more money!” I laugh and we head back out into the club.

         I try to approach the man, but every time I try, a customer comes up requesting a dance, or a private room, and I have to oblige them. I mean, it’s literally my job. It’s nearing 2 AM when I finally decide to call it a night. I’m exhausted and I’ve been here since 9 PM. I tip the DJ, and bartender, and then pay the house before slipping back into my sweats and cropped tank, not even bothering to take my work clothes off. I put everything I need into my small red backpack and bid goodnight to Gina and Tia. I wish Alex a good night, and he tells me to be safe. I’m almost to my car when I feel it. Someone’s following me. I’ve got another ten feet, and though the steps behind me sound leisurely, I know better than to assume that. All the hair on my body stands up straight. I have a choice to make – sprint to my car and pray that I make it or take on whoever is behind me and make enough noise to alert someone. I quicken my pace, and the steps behind me quicken as well. I make my decision. I stop abruptly and whirl around, not looking at who is following me before grabbing their shoulder, moving my hips against them, and flipping them over my shoulder and onto the ground. Then I see who it is – the dark-haired man. He looks a little dazed and I feel like shit.

         “Well, hello to you too.” He says, looking up at me.

         “Don’t you know not to sneak up on a woman??? You could’ve said something to me rather than following me like a creep!” I exclaim and extend my hand to him helping pull him up from the pavement.

         “I’m sorry. I didn’t think about that.” He looks embarrassed as if the thought truly didn’t occur to him. Men, they’re unbelievable.

         “Of course, you didn’t,” I mutter. I watch as he rubs the back of his head. “Sorry if I gave you a concussion. Just a precaution.” I say, shrugging.

         “I’m glad to see you’re capable of taking care of yourself.” Cryptic. “Where did you learn how to do that?”

         “Can’t a woman have her secrets?” I say, smiling at him, and he grants me a smile in return. My stomach does a somersault at that. “I’m Y/N, by the way.” I stick my hand out and he shakes it.

         “Aaron. Aaron Hotchner, but my friends mostly call me Hotch.”

         “Your friends, such as Derek Morgan?”

         “I assume you’re familiar.” I grin.

         “He’s quite a regular here. But you? Not so much.”

         “It’s not really my scene.”

         “Then why come in the first place?” I ask, and he says nothing, just looks me over and I blush.

         “I have my reasons.”

         “Oh.” I push my hair behind my ears awkwardly. “Sorry, but I have to go, I have homework that’s due on Monday.”

         “You’re a student?” He asks.

         “Nursing student. It’s my last semester. That’s why I dance here – so far, I haven’t had to take out any loans and I intend to keep it that way.”

         “Makes sense. Well, have a good night. I hope I’ll see you again. And maybe not get flipped onto my back.”

         I wince at that, but he chuckles. “I hope I’ll see you again too. Maybe you can actually come and talk to me instead of just staring.” I wink at him, and his cheeks grow pink.

         “Goodnight, Y/N.”

         “Goodnight…Hotch.” I say, getting into my car. I lock the door, throw my bag in the passenger side seat, and let out a deep breath. Aaron Hotchner. What a pleasure to meet you.

---

chapter two

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[catharsisxf]

Santa Baby

Rating: M

Prompt: Sexy Santa costume

AO3 Link

__________________

She'd said she was headed to a Christmas party/fundraiser/something (he hadn't really been paying attention) and evidently needed to change before she headed out.

His jaw dropped as she re-entered the office to gather her things.  Standing before him,  Scully was wearing a red long-sleeved dress with white fuzzy trim on the open neckline and cuffs.  The full skirt ended mid-thigh and a black belt cinched her tiny waist.  Completing the look, a Santa hat perched atop her head.  

As she sat to change out her work heels for black knee-high boots, Mulder's heart started beating wildly,  pumping all the blood straight to his crotch.

"Mulder?" She raised her eyebrow at him.

He couldn't speak.  Where the hell was she going dressed like that?!  

Scully stood and slowly walked over to him.  He was still frozen in his chair feeling like he couldn't get enough air in his lungs.  

"Mulder...you're panting.  Are you feeling ok?"

"Uhh.."

She gave him a small smile then as she rounded his desk and stood directly in front of him.  He had a death grip on the arms of his chair as he stared up at her.  Her eyes flicked down to his lap and he knew there was no way she could miss the bulge in his pants.  

"Mulder," she practically purred at him.  "Do you like my outfit?"

Still incapable of coherent speech he simply nodded at her.

The tip of her tongue peeked out to lick the corner of her mouth as she gave him a mischievous smile and he felt himself grow impossibly harder. 

Suddenly she was straddling his lap and he let out a desperate moan when she made contact with his groin.  Up close he noticed she'd changed her makeup too.  Her half-lidded eyes looked different (smoky maybe?) and her mouth was a deep berry red. Would it taste like berries, too? He wanted to know.

She brought her lips to his ear and whispered, "Have you been a good boy this year?" 

"Yes?" He was disappointed to hear it come out sounding not only like a question but also an octave higher than normal.

She smirked at him and squirmed in his lap.  "I dunno...feels to me like you're on the naughty list."  

She'd started trailing wet kisses along his jawline when his hands finally released their hold and he reached under her skirt to pull her closer.  He inhaled sharply when he felt her bare cheeks.  Jesus Christ!  

"The thong matches too," she breathed, starting to grind against him.

The scrap of fabric she was wearing might as well have been nonexistent as he could feel her warm wet center through his pants.  Ohhh God...baby, I want you so bad...

As if reading his thoughts, she reached between them, unbuttoning his pants and slowly pulling down his zipper.

RING!

He flailed his arms around reaching for his office phone but only managed to knock it off his desk.  Scully, who had been seated in the annex area, looked over at him startled.  "Mulder, are you ok?"

He finally wrangled the phone back onto his desk and lifted the receiver to his ear only to realize the caller had already hung up.  "Uh, yeah, I'm fine."  He cleared his throat and straightened his tie.  "I think I zoned out for a minute there."

She frowned at him, unconvinced, but retreated back to her work.

Shit!  He'd never had such a vivid Scully-daydream at work before.  Much less with her in the same room.  He glanced over at her warily, willing his erection to disappear.

He peeked at his watch: 9:14am.  Sighing heavily, he picked up the abandoned file on his desk.  It was going to be a long day.

[voxyldy]

10.14.2023

[VICNIC]

Taehyung explaining the meaning of Blue MV

👤 The BLUE MV is amazing. Is it really all in black and white?

🐻 I really like black and white movies. This time, I feel like I was able to try something that I’ve been wanting to do someday. So the makeup was very smoky and the jacket, there’s something a little intense about it. Truthfully, I think the interpretation will vary depending on the person. There is a feeling of abandonment, and there’s also a feeling of going to find your lost puppy. So that’s why a puppy comes in at the end.

👤 Ah, the puppy is coming to you?

🐻 I finally found the puppy!! But truthfully...this is kind of funny

👤 Why? What is it?

🐻 The synopsis was originally different

👤 Ah, this wasn’t the synopsis?

🐻 Yeah, I filmed it in a different way, but the editing turned out like this.

👤 Ah, it originally didn’t have this kind of feeling?

🐻 The synopsis was originally just… I keep knocking. I will keep knocking until the door opens. I will look for the key. I find the security guard who holds the key but I follow him there. It’s like that. Like, “Why aren’t you answering my calls”

👤To the security guard?

🐻 No, haha. It’s something like this: there is a fight between lovers, and one is asking the other to open their heart. Since that person won’t open their heart, I go to the guard room and look at the key, saying, “You have one, that’s right!” and go to that person. But the part that shocked us when the MV came out was Tannie.. The Tannie that I lost..

👤 That eagerness! Even turning around and going back

🐻 But my friend Jimin watched this and said it was really funny. “Hey, isn’t it common courtesy for the person who found Tannie to ask, “Is this your puppy?” It doesn’t make sense that they just left Tannie there and went about their own way.

👤 That’s the way he interpreted it? In that much detail?

🐻 Yes, he said that was so funny. He couldn’t focus

👤He watched this music video and said it was funny?

🐻 Yes! He just said if you find a puppy, you should say something like “Are you looking for a puppy, by chance? I found this puppy wandering around here”but they just left the puppy there and walked away. Truthfully, the one who left Tannie there was my staff member. It was supposed to rain a lot, so we quickly did the scene like that so that he wouldn’t get wet when it started to rain. We used that scene as-is.

👤 That interpretation turned out to be really fun.

🐻 Yes, but right now the music video is a lot like a movie. It’s like a short film.

👤 I think the fans’ reactions might be a little different.

🐻Ah, I’m only telling you the fans’ reactions that I liked and picked out

Source: The Tae Print /

Video Credit: 하심이