#dear patrons ask questions

[wilburgersoot]

Hey can I see your tits. Respectfully.

NO?!?!

[champagnefountains]

LUCIFER MAGNE - H.H.

Prompt: Lucifer continuing to wear his wedding ring despite being in a relationship with you.

Genre: Angst and hurt; somewhat fluffy (but only for a brief while). Warnings: Swearing. Unhealthy relationship/coping mechanisms (?). Word count: 2.2k+

Lucifer had been courting you for a couple of months already, the King of Hell finally deciding it was time to make the two of you official. The tension was so incredibly thick, that even the hotel’s patrons were growing sick of having to watch the two of you dance aimlessly around each other. Charlie included. 

The past couple of months were more than delightful – Lucifer treated you like a Queen, taking you out almost every other night, having nice candle-lit dinners, and dancing the night away. And if you weren’t really feeling the glamour, the both of you would stay cuddled up against one another whilst watching some cliche rom-com. It was like a dream. It was perfect…well, almost. 

The very source of your concerns was the golden band that remained in Lucifer’s ring-finger. 

You knew about the heart-break and torment that Lucifer underwent following his separation with Lilith. Understandably, having been together for many decades and centuries, the King had a difficult time trying to move on. Even in the earlier stages of your relationship, when he had been comfortable confiding in you, it was evident that he still deeply cared for Lilith, despite her absence. 

You tried to be understanding – you really, really did. But every time you held his hand, the cold metal feeling against your fingers set a painful reminder that maybe he still hasn’t moved on completely. 

It filled you to the brim with self-doubt. Perhaps he was just keeping you around just to fill in the void she had left. And if that were the case, were you even doing a good enough job in that? Hypothetically, if Lilith were to waltz in front of the hotel’s doors one day, was he going to throw you off to the side and run away with her? What if he’d grow bored of you all of a sudden?

Questions such as these would linger at the back of your head constantly, and as they did, you would cast a longing gaze in his direction. When he catches your eye, he would automatically send a smile your way, pearly-whites in full display. It would make you smile without fail, because how could it not? You loved that dashing smile of his. But everyday, you wondered if you could continue to maintain that smile in your life. 

One night in particular, during dinner at one of Hell’s finest establishments, Lucifer noticed that something was off. Your smile hasn’t been reaching your eyes, and you seemed like you were anywhere but here. Your eyes had a distant look to them and whenever he’d ask if something was wrong, you would become dismissive. It concerned him a lot. 

“Darling, are you alright?” Lucifer carefully asked once you both made it to the front porch of the hotel. “Was it the food? Was it not to your liking? Because the chicken was a bit off to be honest, it could’ve been a bit more seasoned–” 

“Luci,” you intervened and grabbed his hands, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “The food was great, really. It’s just…” As your voice trailed off, you were quick to feel that damn ring around his finger. Because, of course you did, and it didn’t help your mood at all. You force out a huff and pull away, causing the demon’s frown to deepen, “I’m feeling a little under the weather tonight – probably just lacking a bit of sleep.” 

Lucifer scanned your face all over, his brows furrowed in worry. “Well…I guess you have been working harder for the hotel recently.” There had been some truth in that – after all, there had been an influx of sinners in the hotel since the cancellation of this year’s extermination. But he didn’t seem to stop there, not fully convinced by your reasoning, “...But are you sure that’s all, my dear?” 

You looked at him, surprised, as if suddenly caught red-handed. He was quick to pick up on that too, confirming his suspicions and making him all the more nervous.

 “What are you trying to say?” You ask. 

“Well, i-it’s just that I noticed that you’ve been acting a bit off recently,” he splutters. “And not only tonight. You’ve become a bit more…I don’t know, distant with me. And it worries me, y’know? I just…I really, really care about you. A lot.” He almost looks defeated as he rubs anxiously at his nape, “And if I’m being honest, it scares the absolute shit out of me that what I’m doing now isn't right."

Your brows crease in confusion, “...What are you talking about?” 

Lucifer closed his eyes, dragging a palm against his face as an exaggerated groan leaves his lips. “Look, I’m not exactly experienced with all…all this – the one woman I’ve ever been in a committed relationship with left me. Just like that!” He lets out a humourless snort. “A-And I don’t know what I did to make her leave and I for sure don’t want to make that same mistake again. I…I want to be assured that I’m making you happy.” 

Lucifer looks up at you, eyes filled with warmth, as he places a gentle hand against your cheek. He breaks the distance between you to press his forehead against yours. You automatically lean against him out of habit. “I don’t want to lose you. And if I’m doing something wrong, tell me. Please, don’t shut me out.” He pleads, his voice almost falling into a whisper. The unexpected confession left you speechless, your chest feeling all the more tight. It was making you feel worse than you already did. 

You let out a shaky sigh, trying to keep the pending tears at bay. “Luci, I’m sorry. I didn’t know…I-I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. Trust me when I say that you’ve been nothing more than a gentleman, and every moment we’ve spent together has been magical. I appreciate you so, so much, and I could never, ever ask for anything more.” 

You shut your eyes tight, shame filling your very core. “I’m just being a little silly–”

“No, no. Don’t say that, darling. Please tell me what’s going on. It’s okay,” Lucifer encourages softly, his thumb rubbing reassuringly against your cheek. 

You grab his wrist and gently pull your face away from him. With the hand on his arm, you slide it down to grab at his own, bringing it up into view and in-between the both of you. Almost instantaneously, both your eyes lie on the golden band on his finger – to Lucifer, it suddenly clicks. But he couldn’t help but feel an internal conflict brew within him. 

“I-I know how much that ring and Lilith means to you. I really do and I feel awful having to feel this way, but I just…I can’t help it,” you mutter, finally allowing the first couple of tears to fall, “I-I often find myself counting the days and hours when you’ll suddenly realise that I will never be good enough for you. It feels like I’m constantly having to compete with her–heck, what am I even saying? I know I’ll never be able to compete – because, I mean, come on. I'm a nobody!” You chuckle tearfully whilst gesturing to yourself with a free hand.

“And I don’t think I’ll ever understand how you’d ever settle for someone like me. I’m not nearly as important, nor am I the best-looking demon out there. I’m just me.”

“But Lucifer, whenever I’m with you, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. I smile more. Laugh more. I even enjoy the little things more. And I don’t want that to go away. And I’m just hoping– Satan, I’m fucking hoping that it’s the same for you. And if it is, then how long is that going to last with me?” 

Completely shocked, Lucifer watched in silence as his love sobbed their heart out in front of him. He wanted nothing more than to go and wrap you in his warm embrace, and whisper reassurances and hush down your cries. Because, you were right – you did make him happy. So unbelievably happy. You had been the light that casted away the shadows in his darkest times. And yet, why? Why did he remain where he stood, unmoving as tears pathetically poured from his eyes? Why wasn’t he saying anything?

There was a brief, stagnant moment of contemplation where the both of you just stood there. It was the realisation that Lucifer didn’t make any effort to formulate some form of response, that disappointed you even further. It only made the doubtful voice in your head louder. 

It was you who ultimately decided to make the first move, wiping tiredly at your reddened face as you glanced at the hotel’s door. “I’ll be heading off first. I’ll be in the guest room tonight – it’s been a long day,” you raspily say, hiccuping as you pushed through the doors and disappeared into the hotel, leaving Lucifer alone outside. 

As you entered the hotel, you immediately noticed Husk’s presence by the bar, who had been polishing some glasses by the counter. In front of him was Angel, who was making some sweet, small talk with him. They were both alerted by your entrance as the doors flew open, and as Angel was about to greet you in his usual playful fashion, his voice fell flat when he saw the depressed state you were in. 

“Woah, there. What the hell happened to you? You look like shit,” Angel asked, standing to meet you half-way, “I thought you and Short-King were out on a date. Did something happen?” 

“We were but we had a fight or something,” you tiredly shrugged as you walked past the arachnid and plopped yourself down on one of the bar stools. You swirled yourself on the seat to face Husk. “Give me the strongest shit you have. And make it double,” you waved absently at the feline-demon, who raised an incredulous brow at your bluntness. “Damn, it must be that serious considering you don’t even drink,” he grumbles as he turns to start brewing a glass of something, “...do you wanna talk about it?"

You contemplated his offer for a second and realised that you did. For the next five or so minutes, you ended up recounting everything that happened earlier tonight, all the while shedding even more tears. Angel was kind enough to supply you with a mountain of tissues to cry into.

“Well, it sounds to me that your man’s got a whole lot of thinking to do,” Husk clicks his tongue. “But what you’re feeling is completely valid.” “Yeah, who the fuck wears their ol’ wedding ring while dating someone else? What an asshole,” Angel hisses. 

“S-So you guys think there’s a possibility that he might consider ending things with me?” You question dejectedly. Husk and Angel share a look of uncertainty, suddenly feeling the need to be careful of their words. Because they genuinely weren’t sure.

“I–Look, that’s not something we should be focusing on at the moment– I mean, of course, let’s hope that that’s not where this is going. I just think he needs some space to think things through properly,” Husk says. 

“And I know I was talking a whole lot of shit before but let’s take the benefit of the doubt and look at things from his point of view. He was in that boat for more than a couple thousand years. And shit, that’s a lot of fucking years.” Angel points out. “It might take him a while longer to adjust to that, y’know?” Angel places a hand on your shoulder, grinning at you reassuringly, “But there’s one thing for sure that myself and everyone else knows: the guy loves yah, toots. Anyone with eyes can see it, and you guys are really fucking disgusting about it too–ow!” 

Angel suddenly lunges forward against the counter as one of Husk’s wings swipes down to slap the back of his head. “‘The fuck was that for?! It’s true, ain’t it?!” Husk rolled his eyes at his dramatics, before turning back to you. “He’s right, though. Just…just give him a bit more time. I’m sure in the end, the both of you will be fine.” 

Meanwhile, Lucifer decided to head back to his own castle, wanting to be alone to sort through his cluttered thoughts. He was beyond upset with himself for making you cry like that, because it was the last thing he wanted. But he was more upset at the fact that he didn’t know how to navigate through his emotions, despising that he found himself second guessing his feelings. 

As you explicitly implied, was he really still unconsciously longing for Lilith? Was that why he kept wearing his ring? Why was he still wearing it? Was it just for his own comfort? But why would he need it anyways? You were there, weren’t you? All he had said to you tonight, he was contradicting himself, wasn’t he? Perhaps he’s scared. Maybe he isn’t ready yet. But, why would he be with you if he didn’t think so? What exactly were you to him? And what exactly was Lilith to him now?

Lucifer was a complete mess, and that night he couldn’t find a single blink of sleep as these thoughts plagued him. And neither could you, as you scrutinised every aspect of your relationship, thinking of what this could mean for the both of you, moving forward.

Yeah…perhaps you both needed some time. 

Chapter II [x]

[kleptokure]

Eyes On The Prize *ੈ✩‧₊˚

Shadow Milk Cookie x GN!Reader

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅

Traveling came natural to you, as staying in one place for an extended amount of time led you to get fidgety. You cannot be chained to one mere kingdom, and you believe must explore all of Earthbread!

As of right now, you are on your umpteenth trip. An adventure to a place most cookies advised you to avoid, which is none other than Beast-Yeast.

But who are they to tell you where to and not to go? Spirit is hard to break, and you made sure to show them that. You trusted you would do a quick exploration of the geography, then check it off your bucket list.

Now, you fall flat in knowing why you were adamant this was a good idea. Exploring was easier said than done. The map of the mysterious land is not even complete! You set yourself up for failure, and you wish to travel back to regions more cheerful.

Alas, that option is unavailable. You find yourself disoriented, now walking along a trail while also uncertain of its destination.

Up ahead of the pathway, you spot a Barrel Inn! Quickening your pace to make your way towards the safe space, you feel the slightest sense of being watched all of a sudden.

Turning around to look through the eerie branches stemming from the trees, you find no one to suspect. Fatigue must've taken its course on your dough, so you dismiss the idea. The thought of a jug filled with cream root beer occupies more space in your mind.

Opening the door to the Inn, you see quite a few of patrons. It comes as surprising, since the lone cookie you've come across is some lazy caramel cookie who has the ability to change between cookie to chameleon.

You opted to sit in the furthest corner, as you would rather avoid conversation with anyone here. You are unsure about whom you can trust in a place like this.

Despite that, once you take the first sip of your given carbonated drink, a cookie takes their seat next to you.

"Hey, you!" They immediately spoke, a boisterous tone taking place in their words. It was clear they were inebriated from the audible hiccups that followed.

"Did you know that... there are beasts here?" That serves as typical drunken talk, causing you to avoid giving responses

"It... It's true! The beasts are real, and you might find one in these parts..." The drunk cookie expressed as if they knew you regarded their speech as imaginary.

"If you feel like yur being watched, then you're already their next victim!" That statement is what causes you to feel anxious.

Before you could ask any questions, the cookie left within the moment you turned to them. You were curious, as you still recall the moment before you stepped inside the tavern.

Then you sense a tap on your shoulder, causing you to startle. Diverting your gaze, you turn to see a cookie with milky light blue hair flowing down to her dress. Not to mention her mismatched colored eyes, which were a pair to gape at.

"I'm sorry to be a bother, but could you be a dear and help me?" Her velvet voice questioned, stating her rationale for the sudden intrusion.

"What is it?" There is not much left to do on your schedule, besides getting back home, which looks to be unattainable. It wouldn't hurt to assist her.

Although, you do remember the intoxicated cookie's words. But could the dainty lady standing near have much of a possibility to be a beast?

No, that sounds like utter nonsense. Your exhaustion must be causing you to find truth in that strange cookie's words.

"I fear I've dropped my basket along the way, and a few cake hounds decided to reclaim my carrier as their own," she said with a defeated tone.

"Surely a strong cookie like you would be able to assist me?" Her voice took on an unexpected high pitch that one would consider abnormal. Would it be a risk to assume she's flirting with you right now? Beast-Yeast never fails to live up to its unusual traits..

"Um... Sure. Lead the way," you accepted, much to her favor. There were little opportunities to finish your beer, but oh well.

Wandering across the familiar pathway, you decide to start up some small talk with the cookie.

"So, what's your name?" You asked, walking beside the cookie.

"It's... Blueberry Milk Cookie!" She sounded eager to make the announcement.

"Nice to meet you, Blueberry Milk Cookie. I’m [Name] Cookie," you stated.

"Even your name is quite grand..." she mutters to herself.

"What was that?"

"Huh? Oh, there's my basket!" Averting your attention, Blueberry Milk Cookie points ahead.

Preparing to fight, you stare towards a clear area, just to the right of the path you both walk.

But there lacks the cake hounds you expected to see, leaving you with confusion.

"Oh, looks like they left. Isn't that nice?" Blueberry Milk Cookie advances over to her basket with a casual step. Her demeanor so easygoing makes you find it hard to believe there were any hostile creatures here in the first place.

"Blueberry Milk Cookie... Were there any cake hounds here to begin with?" She can hear the doubt in your tone, making her hold back laughter.

Basket in hand, the lax cookie walks far closer than she should, pushing your subconscious to make you take a few steps back.

"Of course there was. What, do you think I'm a liar...?" Feigning her offense, Blueberry Milk Cookie allows a pout to take place on her face.

Her eyes, which you once found beautiful, now seem unsettling with the way they peer at you. A part of you does not want to upset the young lady, just to avoid any further conflict.

"No, I believe you," you reassure. A pleased smile graces her face, and her expression returns to normal, as if her prior abnormality was never here nor there.

"Good. Well, I'll be going now. Thank you for your assistance, dearie. Ta-ta!" Blueberry Milk Cookie plants a kiss on your cheek, sending a sweet smile your way after. Her way of a thank you, your guess. Now there sneaks a tinge of guilt for finding her strange.

You would let your suspicions go, but the way the cookie progresses into the trees like it was rountine causes to increase your distrust. There is no way any shelter took place in the direction she went.

It matters not, since you doubt you'll find any additional encounters with her.

Time to continue with your journey of finding your way home. Hopefully all of the activities from today are shut out from your mind by then.

Shadow Milk Cookie cannot help but giggle, the rush of another successful trick flowing through his dough. You are just the cutest thing!

Really, you did most of the work for him. All he needed to do was take on another form, one of a elegant cookie anyone would be eager to please, and you followed him like a sheep to a shepard. Though his more average traits did slip out nearing the end, you slumped in pointing it out. Maybe you kinda dig it!

He happened to stumble upon your presence. It was an accident, truly. Shadow Milk Cookie has far more significant matters to tend to, yet would it be so bad to put you somewhere on his agenda? Your appearance is quite to his liking. He cannot just leave you be on your merry way.

You would slot in perfectly like a piece in his puzzle of a Spire! Not alongside his other assistants, though. Perhaps something more, a relationship that he doesn't take part in often.

That could only be if you behave to his standards. Yet Shadow Milk desires to label you an exception just from the lone interaction you both share. Such a charmer you are, huh?

At the moment, only one of his morphs have been revealed to you. Said form leans on the tamer side, yet that will diminish over time. Shadow Milk Cookie wants to see just how far he can push you! How joyous a new toy can be.

Stalking you from the shadows, he can catch the look of lostness in your eyes. Another humble traveler adrift in the twists and turns of Beast-Yeast. What a pity.

But fear not, as Shadow Milk Cookie will be your guide back home. Remember to express your gratitude!

Though it is not your idea of home, but his, which is none other than his lively Spire of Deceit. No need to worry, growing accustomed to the tower comes within a matter of time.

For the time being, Shadow Milk Cookie will be peeping from between the trees, awaiting the ideal moment to stage his next trick. The jester wishes for you not to spot out the anomalies, otherwise his entire act will be spoiled! A few cards of tomfoolery in his deck haven't been played yet. Play along, why don’t you?

Your back is pressed up against a tree, your legs laying flat on the grass beneath you. Walking any longer sounds like a nightmare, due to the fact that your legs grow sore from the little progress you've completed.

With the thoughts of dread being cut short, you feel an abrupt poke to your left. The unanticipated touch jolts you back to life, causing your eyes to dash up.

The being that poked you was not a cookie, but a... cream sheep? At least that goes as your guess. The names of creatures in Beast-Yeast might contrast to those in Crispia, but it is still a fluffy sheep at the end of the day.

Inspecting the surroundings, you find there to be no companions with the lone sheep. Perhaps a stray from its family, just as lost as you are.

With more proper posture, you raise your hand to pat the wooly animal. The sheep releases sounds of comfort, pressing its head further into your hand. The fleece is the closest material you've had to a pillow, which brings you more ease.

The curious creature licks your cheek, a sign of appreciation from your affection. This claims the spot of the most enjoyment you've received in Beast-Yeast. Though that gets interrupted when you notice a certain feature.

This sheep... They have quite the pair of eyes once you pay attention to them. You fail to gawk this time around, as you believe you've seen more than enough of the contrasting colors in their icing.

The chances of heterochromia in a cookie is rare enough, but in a sheep of all beings? This is no coincidence. Either it be cookies with clashing eye colors are quite common here and you are just uneducated, or you have the right to be apprehensive because there is in fact something, or someone after you.

You find yourself having little interest in being here any longer, having gained a new sense of hope to escape this maze of a place.

The cream sheep is confused when the soothing touch of your hand disappears. Looking up at you, the sheep is only met with your figure sprinting away. How rude, you forgot to say goodbye!

Shadow Milk Cookie is left behind, an appalled expression plastered onto his mammal face. He cannot believe his stunt failed to work! He is quite literally, ehem, DECEIT! How can one not be filled with flattery to be given a chance to fall for his tricks? Such individuality you have... Or it just be his eyes, which are stubborn to change with the rest of his appearance.

A rule breaker here and there always entices him. You best be able to live up to your rebel characteristics. Shadow Milk would be disappointed to see you flop like the rest. The entertainer needs to be entertained every once in a while.

With a whirl, Shadow Milk Cookie reverts into his infamous appearance, one he's more acquainted with. Devoting himself into a being as small as a cream sheep disgusts him. Although there was one thing he favored about the animal.

It's common for cookies to give a pat or more to an animal they come across, yet it still surprised him when you kept the same for him.

Touching the cotton on his false form so softly makes him feel things; things he has gone without for extended amounts of time. Since, y'know, being locked up in that tree, all alone, with no other cookie to satisfy the buried need of another's touch.

Perhaps informing you of his pity story will bring you to tears, making you coddle him within the second fake tears prickle the corner of his eyes.

Such an imagination he has. For now, he corrects. If you shared such tenderness towards a strange sheep who popped out of the shady vegetation, then you should show no hesitation in sparing some attention for him, too.

Nevertheless, the animal act has grown rather boring. As much as Shadow Milk Cookie would love to receive more of your soft petting, the show must go into its climax!

You will witness the form from times ago, the one which represented his very deceit. Lucky little cookie you are, aren'tcha? Shadow Milk Cookie has grown adjusted to the dough, so he decided it would be best for you to fall in love with his face as well.

With your current state, hungry and tired, you have little hope in outrunning your stalker. The very least you can do is make this all easier for him by jumping into his open arms.

No matter, as Shadow Milk Cookie is already on his way. Hope you're ready!

There does not appear to be much reason in running. If a beast has dedicated their time to hunt you down, then what might the point be in trying to escape? You have no powers deemed extraordinary, so the battle conclusion can be guessed without a second thought.

As if on queue, a booming sound of laughter is heard from behind you. The noise sends chills down your spine, yet you are brave enough to peek around. However, the miscreant is not seen from your eye.

"Other way, doughbrain!" Now beckoning from a new direction, the beast seems to be playing tricks with you. Just great.

You rotate to face the other way. Even so, you do not manage to see any cookie.

"I’m over here!" With a heavy breath, you spin around to survey the area. And again, nothing is seen. You give up in finding the trickster. Staring forward, the very eyes you attempt to run from stare back.

"BOO!" Shadow Milk Cookie said, adding on a scare for extra affect.

Watching you fall on your bottom, the jester laughs, a noise that becomes more haunting for you each second.

"I’m sorry, I'm sooooorry! You just make this all too easy," he admits with his head tilted, making sure to lean in to see your expression, fiiled with fright.

"Wow, now that's a face! You really are adorable." With honesty, that did not sound as teasing as the rest of his words did.

Now remembering it, the apparently kind lady from earlier appeared to be flirtatious for a second. With newly gained knowledge, that cookie is also the one trailing after you. If you are correct once more, and a beast has a tiny crush on you... You pray you awaken soon.

With how panicked your mind is, you're surprised you managed to glue some sort of pieces together. Now you can only have faith that your assumption is the truth.

If so, then perhaps you can use that to your advantage? With pride, you would hold romantic affection for a beast, as long as you would not crumble.

"I... I look adorable? Well then, um, you look absolutely stunning," you stuttered out, trying your best to come across as charming. You trust you led your prior frown into a smile, albeit a bit shaky.

Oh? Due to your words, Shadow Milk Cookie is actually taken aback, thinned lips replacing his grin. A cookie complimenting their very predator? He must have heard you wrong.

"Huh? Whawasthat?" Witches. Was your pick-up line that bad? Oh, may you be granted a peaceful crumbling.

Regardless, you refuse to back out of this, even though continuing with your coquettish behavior sounds like a death wish.

"You have... the loveliest eyes I have ever had the fortune of staring upon," you idolize. That has to sound convincing enough, right?

"Hmmmmm," Shadow Milk Cookie hums, debating why a warmth flushes his cheeks from your unexpected admiration. Along with that, he floats himself much closer, which causes you slight discomfort.

Maybe a bit more than slight, as you raise your hand and slapped him, a gasp slipping from your mouth due to your own actions. Your instinctive reactions do not discern when and when not to react.

This is it. This is the end. You will fall because of an accident from your subconscious. Or not?

Shadow Milk Cookie bursts out with laughter, his palm touching the mark you placed on his face. He's incredulous that a cookie was brave enough to lay a hand on him! His guard must be far too low with you, though he might just lower it. Your attack wasn't all that bad.

"Hit me again, I like it!" This cookie, "Blueberry Milk Cookie," is messed up in the head. Who in their right mind would ever admit that? But you fail to speak out your judgement. It's far better not to.

"I think that one mark adorns your dough just nicely," you attempted to persuade. While you decline his request, you keep up with flirtations. Things may spiral out of control if you give in to every ask of his.

"Ohoho, how interrresting!" Rolling his r, Shadow Milk Cookie gives you a good look over. It is as if you grow more and more appealing each time he gazes at you.

"Even I didn't expect such a twist in plot... You WILL be my next rising star!" Wait, is he serious? Did you actually manage to seduce a beast? He may not be sane, that much is well known, but are you?

"I'd be delighted to act in your performances," you replied, keeping your voice steady to avert suspicion. Your words act as the sole thread to your survival, and you can tell they all come to please him.

The several eyes in his bizarre hair roll back, another sign if you couldn't tell he was elated by the wide grin covering a large portion of his face.

Shadow Milk Cookie hovers over, and this time, you do not hit him, allowing his hands to cup the sides of your face.

"I, Shadow Milk Cookie, hereby declare you, [Name] Cookie, as mine!" That sentence zones you into reality, making you realize how intense the situation you've somehow managed to tumble yourself into is. Any way out as an option is long gone. Too bad.

In your peripheral vision, a portal appears out of thin air. That must act as your way of transportation. You hope sickness is not complimentary, but that gets cut short when you're lifted up inside of the whirls of black and blue.

You hear the smallest chuckle before you depart. Might it be a good omen, or bad?

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅

A/N: not too sure if im in love with this one (－－〆)

[undiscovered-horizon]

[Mihawk prefers to keep work and his private life separate. On one rare occasion when these two have to comingle, Mihawk is rather upset at the attention you attract.]

Enjoying my work? You can leave me a tip on Ko-Fi | Have a request?

When Mihawk said "It will be just a moment, my dear", you didn't think the issue would take more than half an hour. Yet here you are, two hours after he had left you in a fussy lounge in the back of Midnight Grove...

...and not a Dracule Mihawk in sight.

You let out an exasperated sigh and take another sip of your mai tai. The band is playing yet another song that sounds vaguely identical to the previous one. Similarly, the mob of other patrons seems to be merging into one, murky background of blurry figures in your eyes. Being used to the peaceful yet refined companionship of Mihawk, the aura of Midnight Grove is beyond unbearable.

Mindlessly playing with a coaster featuring a howling wolf, you don't notice a Marine cadet approaching you.

"I'm afraid I have to arrest you, my lady."

The unexpected and, frankly, unwelcome comment makes you look up from the devilishly fascinating coaster. Your eyes fall on a well-built man with long hair and a smug expression. The glint in his brown eyes makes you tense up in discomfort.

"Excuse me?" you ask him, not understanding the meaning behind his words.

The cadet gives you a bad parody of a flirtatious smile. "You look too beautiful," he purrs out.

You can't help but laugh. Somehow, you're undecided whether his pick-up disgusts or amuses you or maybe both. Perhaps his audacity forced a laugh out of you - the ring on your fourth finger is neither modest nor simple. Considering how the large gem in the golden band shone in the low light of the Midnight Grove, even a blind man could tell from a mile away that you are anything but single.

"Anyone waiting for you at home?" he continues his rather poor attempt at flirting.

With a casual flick of your wrist, you toss the coaster on the table. Feeling both curious and entertained, you decide to play along - for now, at least. "Why are you asking, sailor boy?" you question before taking another sip of your drink. The ice has melted and the diluted drink now tastes mostly of old freezer.

"He must be mighty jealous about you. And considering the gold you're wearing," he makes a point of staring at your cleavage, "a millionaire, too."

"Oh, this?" You look down at the necklace of jewels and pearls. A memory flashes before your eyes, suddenly remembering Mihawk's face, barely visible in candlelight as he clasps the jewellery around your neck, telling you sweet things only men in romance novels tend to say. "Yes, it's a gift from someone. I'm sure you know him," you tell the Marine cadet in a casual tone, already imagining how hilarious his face of terror will be when he realizes whose spouse he's been trying to woo. "Tall, yellow eyes, a rather large sword and...

"Awfully annoyed at your impertinence, boy."

The low, guttural voice laced with withheld anger makes both of you look away. There, standing right behind the cadet, is Mihawk himself. Part of his large physique blocks the scarce lighting, making him look significantly more insidious. In the twilight of the Midnight Grove, with fury burning in his eyes, Mihawk appears closer to a demon than a man.

Although the room is dark, you can clearly see the way the cadet's blood draws from his face and the way his eyes are suddenly bigger than an owl's. He scrambles to his feet, almost falling off his chair. Then, muttering apologies and promises of better behaviour, the young Marine runs off only to disappear in the crowd of Midnight Grove's patrons.

Mihawk's eyes follow the youngling for a moment.

"I should have him strung up and killed," he says more to himself than you.

"Or," you speak up, a playful smile curling your lips, "you could sit down, have a drink with your beautiful wife and gloat about the fact that you're the only man to undress her."

You might just be a witch because the change in his demeanour is instant. There is still something wild in his bright, yellow eyes but it's not bloodthirst or anger anymore. You notice how he glances at the ring and the necklace, admiring his own signs of "ownership". One would think they're big enough to send the message. Alas, some people just refuse to receive it.

"You have me convinced," Mihawk says as he sits down next to you.

[alastor-x-reader-stories]

Radio Dream - Alastor x Reader (platonic or romantic)

"Do you think I can go into that Radio Tower?" you said

"Not unless you want to die again." Husk responded with a grunt.

"Why would you wanna go into dat thing anyway?" Angel said, leaning his cheek on one hand while the other held his drink.

You were sitting at the bar with Angel and Husk, just chatting about random insignificant drunk topics. Then your curiosity of the radio tower mounted on the hotel caught up to you. Leading to the conversation read not too long ago.

Alastor stood around the corner, just out of sight of the bar patrons. His ear flicked and his grin strained when you asked your foolish question, but Angel Dust's question had him pause before he could flay you.

Why did you? Sabotage? Vandalism? Just to be annoying-?

"I was just remembering how much I wanted to be radio show host when I was a little kid." You said in a sigh.

...Ooh?

"Oh? Really? Aren't ya... y'know, not ancient?" Angel said. He took a sip so you could respond. Husk was paying attention to you now as well, giving you a side-eye as he cleaned whatever glassware needed to be cleaned.

You sighed again, long and drawn out. There was a bit of dreaminess to your tone, a bit of longing. "Yeah, that's why I never really pursued it. My folks were like 'that's nice and all but that's going out of style and you can't make a living off of it, be more realistic.'" You snorted a bit in agitation at that, taking another slow sip of your drink. After a moment you continued.

"I used to have such a good time playing radio host. I'd sit in the living room or dining room, wherever people were, and make like a box fort or something with my cd player with me. I'd talk into a stick or spoon or whisk or something and talk about random topics or play music. Sometimes I'd 'take phone calls', which were mostly just me pretending to give myself a phone call." You chuckled "I would start a lot of 'drama' like that. Sometimes my family members would give suggestions and I'd play it up and play whatever song they asked. Assuming it was on one of the three CDs I was allowed to use."

"That's cute." Angel hummed "Other than the CDs and stuff, your show doesn't sound that much different from Alastor's."

Husk snorted "Nah, they're show sounds MUCH less annoying."

You barked out a laugh- clearly intoxicated "How dare you! I'm sure I could be a LOT more annoying!" You devolved into a hysterical giggle fit, your face hitting the bar counter in front of you.

"All right, I think you've had enough." Husk grunted, taking what was left of your drink from you.

"fair." You said into the counter.

The conversation carried on from there, and Alastor slinked away to his tower. He stood there a moment, his arms crossed behind his back as his eyes did a brief scan over the room.

When he was young, he did something similar. Granted it was a record player, not a see-dee or whatever you were rambling about. His mother would play along and encourage him, pretending to send letters in or be a guest on his show.

Hearing your story gave him a bit of a warm feeling in his chest. It was good knowing someone out there still appreciated the medium, even if it was likely unrealistic.

Well... Alastor supposed there was really no harm in it, assuming he was there to supervise...

A couple days later and Alastor trotted up to you, offering a tour of the radio tower.

For a brief moment, your eyes practically lit up - shining in delight. The expression did something to his chest, as it suddenly felt far too tight. But not in an...unpleasant way.

However, the next moment you looked downright terrified.

Not as pleasant. Not even funny. He had no idea why.

"Are you going to kill me or whatever?" You said, slowly taking a step back.

Alastor laughed "Not at all, my dear! I simply overheard your drunken conversation the other night and decided to indulge your childhood fantasy."

You snorted "Yeah I'm not selling you my soul for that."

Alastor waved you off, scoffing "Oh heavens, I wasn't asking for your soul." He gave you a bright grin- one that seemed less like a grin and more like a soft smile. "I simply ask you don't, how do people say now a days... 'wreck my shit'."

You giggled a bit into your palm. Apparently Alastor had said something funny.

"...Really? You'll just...let me look?"

"Certainly!" He put an arm across your shoulders, guiding you down the halls in the direction of his station. "Why it's been- unfortunately- quite some time since I heard such a passionate speech for the radio!"

Your face flushed a bright red "Well, hold on, it wasn't a 'speech'-"

"Nope! More like a couple sentences. But you know how it is," He used his free hand to do a jazzy motion "In show-business!"

You snorted "Mmm.... I guess so. Though, really, i've never been a very 'show business' kind of person."

"Nonsense! Once you have it, my dear, you never truly lose it. It just needs a little spark and then you'll have the flames all over again!"

"Are we talking about showmanship or arson?"

"Why not both!"

You laughed. His chest did that pleasant squeeze again. Maybe he'll allow you to sit in on a broadcast one of these days....Well, that was a future question.

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

Hi it's me the writer. I actually did the things that the reader talked about in this. It was a lot of fun for me and my attention-hungry existence. My parents didn't really dissuade me from it though. But. Uh. I think it was more like a 'entertain the child's whims' kind of thought. Which was fair, because I didn't exactly pursue that long. Though I still had fun playing it and figured i'd write something short about it. The three CDs I used were "Wicked", "Pokemon", and "The Shrek Soundtrack". Favorite songs to play from them, in order "No Good Deed", "The Pokemon Rap", and "Accidentally in Love" That info isn't important to anyone but me so i shared it anyway lol.

[cultkinkcoven]

saw this post in r/luciferianism and thought it relevant to share my response here because this is a question I see asked very often.

Doesn’t Lucifer hate being worshipped?

In my experience, no. Not really.

First of all, Lucifer very much is a Lord. He is the God of illumination and enlightenment, He is the Lord of Thaumiel, he is the keeper of the draconian current, the hidden gnosis, he is the liberator, he is the morning star. He is Venus. and he is very much worthy of Godly respect. He is no less powerful nor influential. He very much qualifies for the title of Lord, even if he doesn’t subscribe to the idea of supremacy.

To worship Lucifer though, is not to place yourself below him. Lucifer is my patron and I am his devotee. I am a human and he is a God. We are fundamentally different creatures, that doesn’t mean there isn’t respect or equality between us. Lucifer does not demand or even expect worship. That’s why choosing to actively worship him, set time aside for him, create an altar for him, is so important and dear to him. On the complete contrary, Lucifer doesn’t hate being worshipped by his devotees. He has always seemed beyond honoured and touched that people revere him enough to choose to do so.

Worshipping the Christian God is a responsibly. But when I worship Lucifer it isn’t because I think I have to or because he asked me to. I paint him a picture because I think he’d like it, I offer him an apple because I’m thinking of him. I pray to him because I want to be closer to him. When I worship Lucifer, I also worship myself. In order to worship him, I have to embody his principles, and he is the God of self worship. Taking the effort to actively form a relationship with him in recognition of his divinity whilst also not discounting your own is the key. We don’t worship Lucifer because he’s a God and we think he’s better than us, we worship Lucifer because Lucifer is wonderful, and being in his presence is enjoyable. When I refer to Lucifer as my God and my King, I am not referring to myself as his slave.

There is something incredibly beautiful about consensual authority and leadership, especially when it comes to Lucifer. Bending to a God out of fear is worlds different than surrendering to a God out of trust and admiration.

Lucifer doesn’t hate being worshipped because the act of worship in itself is bad- because it’s not. Lucifer hates bondage (not the bdsm kind lol) and forced worship. Lucifer hates spiritual slavery, the Christian God refers to his people as his slaves. Lucifer would never tell someone that worshipping him is mandatory. But choosing to worship, wanting to worship him as a God and enjoying the act of worship in itself is not in any way offensive to him. In fact it is one of the greatest compliments a human can give.

There is power is deciding to surrender to a God and trusting in their leadership. Lucifer is not a tyrant, but he absolutely is a leader. Following his lead is exactly what he wants us to do, regardless of if we call him God or not. In my opinion, a devotee and a deity are equals in that relationship, even if they are not equal in stature. My role as the human who does the worshipping, tends the altar, heads the messages, and his role as the God who provides insight, directs, and leads, are intrinsic to the dynamic we have. Submission is not inherently degrading. On the contrary, purposeful devotion has been one of my most powerful sources of confidence and pride. My relationship with Lucifer has only continued to flourish as I’ve become more comfortable with worshipping him as my God. I look UP to him, literally, because he is in the sky. He’s a God. He looks down to me because I am a human. But we meet eachother’s eyes, that’s all that matters.

I am a God in my own right, worthy of respect, freedom and autonomy, just like Lucifer. But I am also very much human, and compared to how ancient he is, I very much am a child. This doesn’t mean that I infantilize myself in comparison to him, that is something he would actually hate. It means that I trust in my God’s direction as a God because I understand and respect that he does know more than me. We are equals in concept but not in practice. Once you heal your relationship with authority and allow healthy leadership to support you in your life omg deity work and witchcraft and life in general are going to become so much easier for you.

I do call Lucifer Lord often, but he only ever actually tells me to call him Lord when I’m acting like a brat. Not to speak down to me, not because he’s the boss of me, but to remind me who he is. I’m not talking to my imaginary friend, I’m talking to Lord Lucifer, the God that I felt so protected and inspired by that I devoted my eternal soul to him. I can dislike or disagree with what he says all I want. The fact that I have recognized him as Lord means I already know that he’s probably right and there’s probably a good reason why he’s telling me whatever he’s saying.

tldr: I personally have had no problem calling Lucifer Lord and worshipping him, but he’s also not going to have a problem with anyone not doing that. Likewise, I doubt we would tell anyone not to worship him unless it was in a way that was degrading.

[heavenlyspence]

In the Stacks | Spencer Reid

summary: You and Spencer meet at the library to search for books together. Will a brief touch between you two change your friendship?

contents/tw: season 4 spencer reid x fem!bau reader; library, mentions of books, oc librarian named Mandy; you’re short sorry; mention of physics and psychology; brief touching; hands; fluff: brief mention of the statistics of death from falling

word count: 1.6k

a/n: this is part 2 of my new series! Here is part 1 if you’re looking for it: Meeting of the Nerds.

After your initial elevator meeting with Spencer Reid, the two of you spent the next two weeks messaging and calling each other almost every day. It started with Spencer calling you to ask a question about the case he had been working on. Truthfully, he already knew the answer. But it had been a few hours since you two first met, and he wanted to talk with you. He created a random question to ask you, which you happily answered as it gave you an excuse to talk with him some more.

The next day, you purposely looked for a reason to text him and what would be a better way than asking him about a book! You had been reading the book, 'The Delusions Of Crowds: Why People Go Mad in Groups' by William J. Bernstein and you texted him to get his opinion on it. He responded with a lengthy paragraph detailing his thoughts and feelings about the analytical perspective presented in the book. That led the two of you to begin texting every day about different nonfiction books.

Now it’s been two weeks, and you guys have decided to hang out. Initially, you were going to hang out a few days ago, but Spencer’s team received a case, and he had to fly to Arizona, so you rescheduled it for well…now.

It’s early morning on a Saturday, and you and Spencer both have the day off. You decided to meet up at the local library so you guys can pick out some books together. You walk into the silent library as you carefully observe the nearby displays created by the staff. They do this every month for holidays or for national awareness months, and you’ve grown accustomed to their kind-hearted displays. The library was completely empty except for the librarians who flash warm smiles at you as you walk past them.

“It’s nice to see you again!” An older brunette woman says while tri-folding brochures at the counter. 

You glance over to see her familiar face, “Mandy! It’s nice to see you too!” After you first moved here almost a year ago, you came to the library every day before going to the FBI for training. You were so shy that you barely spoke a word when you were at the library so Mandy,  who has been working at the library since 1992, talked to you more & more until you finally felt more comfortable. You two became so close that she even tried to set you up on a blind date with another one of her patrons a few months ago, but you turned the offer down due to your nerves.

“Sorry I haven’t been here much, Mandy. Work has been super busy.” You say as you walk over to the counter.

She stops folding the brochures as she looks up at you, “It’s alright dear you’re here now! Is there anything I can help you find?” 

“I’m actually looking for someone. Have you se-” You’re interrupted by a loud noise coming from the front of the building.

The sound of rustling leaves and the howl of wind flies through the building as the front door swings open. You glance over to see Spencer walking in while adjusting his brown jacket that got crinkled in the wind. He runs his hand through his hair to try and tame the wind-swept mess, not knowing that you're watching him. 

“Oh, there he is.” You awkwardly tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear, feeling self-conscious that the wind messed your hair up as well.

“Is this an early morning date?” Mandy whispers to you as she goes back to tri-folding.

“No, no. He’s just my coworker. We’re…hanging out.” You whisper while Spencer walks closer to you.

“Hi Mandy!” Spencer smiles as he approaches the counter.

Mandy flashes a smile at him, “Hi sweetheart. I see you’ve met my lovely patron.” She gestures at you.

You look at both of them with a perplexed expression, “You two know each other?”

Spencer nods, “I’ve read almost every book in this library, and it’s Mandy who’s been keeping the shelves filled with new material for me to read.” He stands close to you, the smell of coffee and fresh-linen dancing off of him.

Mandy laughs, “He’s the reason we had to purchase so many quantum physics books. We get them and he reads them just like that-” She snaps her fingers.

Spencer looks over at you, “How do you two know each other?”

You point at Mandy, “She’s the reason why I maintained my sanity when I was doing my training for work.”

Mandy finishes tri-folding the brochures and she begins to hand one to each of you, “You two would’ve been married by now if you let me set you up on that blind date a few months ago.” You each grab the brochure stunned by her comment.

“What?” You two say in shock.

Mandy places the rest of the brochures on the stand next to Spencer, “Well, I thought you two would make a good couple. So I tried setting you up on a date but you both declined my offer. Now look at you two.” She looks them up and down with a smirk.

“We’re not a-” Spencer gets cut off.

“I know. But at least you two are friends.” Mandy looks over at another person walking into the library, “Now I have to get back to work. But let me know if you two need anything.” She walks over and greets the new patron, leaving Spencer and yourself confused.

“Well…” You awkwardly look at Spencer, “Wanna look for some books?” 

He clears his throat, “Yeah. Here, I made this.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a piece of paper, “It’s a list of books that I think you’d be interested in.”

You carefully take the piece of paper from his hand so as to not accidentally touch his hand again, “Thanks!” You pull out your phone from your pocket, “I made you a list of books too, but you’ve probably read all of them.” He chuckles lightly as you go to your notes app and find the list you made, “Here it is!” You hand him your phone, and he reads through your surprising list.

“I actually haven’t read three of these books yet. So I’ll get those if they have them here.” He hands you back your phone and you put it into your pocket as you two begin walking towards the stacks.

You two spend over an hour and ½ looking at books together. Some of them are on the lists, and others just look intriguing, so you take the time to read the blurbs on the back covers. Occasionally, you catch yourself staring at Spencer when his hands move across the book pages, when he’s able to quickly read the titles on the shelf, or when a piece of his hair falls across his face and he casually puts it back. But you never seem to catch him when he’s watching a smile form on your face as you read an interesting blurb or when he can’t help but smile as you scrunch your face when thinking about something. 

Finally, you two are left with one book to look for, and you can’t seem to find it. Spencer goes to ask Mandy where it’s located while you stay and continue to look in the nonfiction section. You read through the shelves meticulously in hopes of finding the book title you’re searching for. After a minute or two of Spencer being gone, you take a step back and notice the title of the book you’re looking for sitting on the highest shelf.

You go over to the nearby step stool and drag it over to where you need it. You carefully press the four books in your arm against your chest as you stand on top of the stool. Your free hand reaches for the book but it’s tightly wedged in place- probably because it’s been sitting there for several years now since most people aren’t regularly checking out a 600 page book about physics and psychology…

You stand on your tiptoes to get a better grip of the book, but as you go to pull it out, you start to lose your balance. Footsteps quicken behind you, and suddenly, two hands rest upon your waist, holding you steady.

“Did you find the book?” Spencer says as he peers around you to see what you’re holding.

You turn your head to meet his eyes, “Ye-yep and nearly killed myself in the process.” 

He smirks at your joke, “Statistically, there are only 300 deaths per year that are caused by falling off of ladders. But those are usually much taller than this stool, so I think it would be okay if you fell.” He removes one of his hands from your waist and holds it out for you, “Here, let me help you down.”

You take his hand and slowly step back onto the floor, “Thank you.” As you step down, his hand gradually falls from your waist, and you begin to miss the feeling of it.

He continues to hold your hand while looking in your eyes, “Well, now that we’ve gotten all of our books, I was wondering if you wanted to create a mini book club that’s just us.” 

You look at his hand holding onto yours and then back at his eyes, “A book club?” 

He lets go of your hand and begins to speak faster out of embarrassment, “Yeah, we don’t have to read the same books! We could read different books and then discuss with each other about what we’ve read.” He looks down at the ground worrying if he overstepped.

“I’d love that! It sounds like a lot of fun!” You hold up the 600-page book you just grabbed, “But you read a lot faster than I do; like this 600-page book is probably gonna take me a week to finish.” 

A huge smile forms on his face as he looks back at you, “That’s fine! We can meet up once a week and I’ll talk about all the books I’ve read.”

“While I just tell you about the singular one I’ve read.” You laugh slightly at the idea of him excitedly rambling on about multiple books while you explain why you love or hate one book.

The two of you walk to the checkout counter while planning to meet up next week at a local cafe to talk about your books. You two talk nonstop at the counter as Mandy checks your books out. Neither of you notice Mandy’s knowing smile as she watches your relationship change right in front of her eyes. You two walked in as friends, but you're leaving as something more…

[diggoverse]

ELLAY SET ♥

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[animeshotsh]

A doggie!! | Various x Kid!Reader |

Warnings: Fluff - Curses - HH violence - Alastor hates dogs - Lucifer its all up to bother Alastor - grammar mistakes - may do pt2 -

Charlie could not hold her smile as she walked down the streets of hell, a big box in her hands and a nervous Vaggie at her side.

"Charlie...love, do you think this is a good idea? Vaggie asked again for the 10th time that day

Charlie who was already planning on how to give you your gift stopped to look at her gilfriend.

"We have been over our head with the hotel and the new patrons. No one has the time to play with (Y/N)...." Charlie said, memories of your sad self leaving the room after seeing everybody was working on something.

"I know but do you think a....dog would help them? They are too young..."

"This" Charlie exclaimed with the biggest and proud smile on her face shoving the box in Vaggi's face "its the most well trained and behaved Cerberus!! I know this race i used to have one, they are loyal and friendly and.."

"And they breath fire, do you really think (Y/N) its going to be alright with one?"

~☆~☆~☆~☆

Turns out, you were even better than right.

Amazing one would say.

Charlie let out sounds of happyness as she snapped pictures of you and the little and chubby cerberus. Both of you currently playing inside your room.

Well one of them, since Alastor and Lucifer insisted on you having a room close to each one of them.

"Its really mine Sis?" You asked giving the dog some trears then rubbing its belly.

"Yes! We have been working too hard in the hotel and i know you must have feel lonely, but now you have this frien by your side"

The shadow from alastor and flying lamb from Lucifer where at the side giving Charlie offended looks.

~☆~☆~☆~☆

No one was ready for how was going to be with you and a cerberus.

First, Lucifer almost had a heart attack when he went to your room to get you and saw the puppy who in return sent a blast of blue fire towards him.

You had to calm down the creature that had turned big when being suprised by the hell's king.

"Hey hey!! Its fine its my dad"

"(Y/N) GET AWAY FROM THAT THING"

Of coruse his screams alerted Charlie who went as fast as she could to see her father sending glares towards your cerberus (when did it got so big?) And you trying to calm it down.

After Charlie explained and Lucifer calmed down so did the dog. Returning to its puppy size and now running in circles, not a single sign that it was the same beast from minutes before.

~☆~☆~☆~

Alastor hated it. And the dog hated Alastor back.

When he heard you had got a dog Alastor was ready to try and get the thing out of the hotel.

Maybe he could get you a fish....yeah that sounded better.

But no. The moment Alastor tried to get that dog it turned six feet tall and growled at him.

And no, Alastor was not suprised and he was ready to fight it.

But that thing was more intelligent, when it hear you were coming it went back to its puppy size and started crying. And you just happened to be around the corner.

"Cerberus? Uncle? What happened?"

Oh that fucker played Alastor so well, he could see the dog smiling and wanted nothing more than to squish it.

"Oh Dear! Looks like i scared it, maybe its not as strong as it seems" Alastor joked getting a low growl.

"Nono! Cerberus its so strong and gets big!! It even let dad, sis and I ride on its back" you explained while petting each head. "Maybe you can come with me? I promise you wont fall"

Like hell he would let himself be on top of that thing. But he could not tell you that so he just smiled "maybe another time, lets go and listen to some jazz while i work on my program"

"Can cerberus come?"

At the question Alastor's eye twitched "of course it can"

~☆~☆~☆~☆

Lucifer was in cloud nine after hearing at dinner that Cerberus had pissed Alastor's studio making the radio demon let out static noise and almost stabbing the king.

You were so sorry almost crying your eyes out making Alastor stop from breaking the dogs necks.

So new rule! No dogs in his radio station. And no dogs in his room.

You know what? No dogs near him.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~

The only time Lucifer and Alastor agreed on something: you spent too much time with the dog.

Sleep? With the dog. And no one could be in the same bed with you and it. Why? Because that thing would get bigger on purpose to prevent someone from stealing you.

The only one who could be with you and it was Charlie. Why? No one knew but if you were out your room the only other demon near you and your dog was Charlie.

She would prepare sleep overs with you and cerberus, Vaggie would join too, and the dog never reacted towards them. It even let itself be pet and kissed.

But with Lucifer? Yeah no. Even if it did let him ride on its back it was still not so friendly towards him. The dog even glared when Lucifer claimed you and him needed to go and could not bring it.

And Alastor had a personal war. Everytime you were not looking he would snap his fingers to try and make the dog leave. Nothing even worked.

"A truce, we get the dog out" a drunk Lucifer said one night to an equal drunk Alastor.

"I accept, i cant deal with that thing any longer"

"Well, it pissing your studio was something..."

"Haha, dont forget when it took your hat" Alastor bite back.

"HAHAHA well at least it likes me a bit"

"You must smell like it"

"FUCK YOU"

[wilburgersoot]

hey sir :) how u bean(ie baby)?

Wilbur eyes the toy with muted and curious delight.

“I’ve been … I’ve been alright, sunlit. How are you?”

[hashtagboykisser]

HARRY POTTER HCS !!

FIRST “I LOVE YOU” !!

prompt: harry potter characters and their first “i love you”s in relationships

characters included: harry potter, ron weasley, hermione granger, draco malfoy, ginny weasley, seamus finnigan, fred weasley, george weasley

warnings: you and seamus smoking in seamus’ part, swearing, physical abuse in george’s part

harry j. potter…

who said it: harry

when: 5th year

“cmon… just a little bit more..” harry cooed patiently, hands placed on your hips. “forget it, harry. i don’t think i’ll ever get it right.” you sighed, wanting to throw your wand down on the ground.

dumbledore’s army had just begun merely a few sessions ago, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t get your patronous just right.

maybe it was because you upset professor dolores umbridge today and pushed her far beyond her limits (not even on purpose, for that matter). or maybe it’s because colin creevey was stuck way too far up your arsehole whenever you would do something wrong when it came to today’s D.A session.

“well, maybe i can give you a happy memory to think about.” harry suggested. “how on earth do you plan to do that?” you questioned, wary of what he may do.

“maybe…like this.”

and with that, harry began to scan your lips with his, feeling for all the fine details that no one else would get to see but himself.

harry felt you smile against his own lips before pulling away, with a lopsided grin smearing his cheeks.

“i love you.” harry smiled, sounding as if he’s been waiting a century to say those words to you.

“i love you too.”

ron b. weasley…

who said it: him

when: 3rd year

“oh no!! oh no no no..!!” the ginger boy roared as he was being dragged by the foot by the black-furred dog (unbeknownst to him, which was sirius black), “i can’t die yet!! i haven’t told (y/n) how much i love her yet!!”

“you bloody moron, she’s right here!!” the shorter bushy haired girl replied, slightly jealous it was her best friends name and not her own.

“i love you, (y/n)! if i die, i promise my ghost will haunt you!!” ron shouted before being dragged away out of sight.

“i love you too!” you yelped, hoping he could still hear you.

hermione j. granger…

who said it: you

when: 7th year

“i know this isn’t much… but i wanted to be able to do something for you for our anniversary.” hermione said, rubbing her neck in pure embarrassment.

you, hermione, harry, and ron were on a hunt to look for all of voldemort’s horcurxes, and because of that, you all were staying in a rubbish tent in the woods.

the tent was empty for the most part, other than the small radio player that had muggle romance music on it.

“harry and ron are out of our hair…well for now anyway. i told them to go look for anything that could be useful, i just wanted to have a nice 3 months you.”

“you kicked them out for me?” you asked, disbelief leaving your throat.

“well yes — and i know it’s not much but-” the brunette would’ve continued if you didn’t interrupt her, and she gives a slight pout because of it.

“but it is much, it is something ‘mione! it is because i love you.”

“i- uhm. repeat yourself, please?”

“i love you, hermione.”

draco l. malfoy…

who said it: him

when: 6th year

“isn’t that right, ms. (y/n)?” the barely human wizard, voldemort, said, looking at you from the other side of table.

you gulped quietly, your shoulders stiffening. “yes, sir.” you murmured, glancing at the platinum blonde boy next to you before averting your gaze.

you and draco grew up together - as your mothers were very close in their teenage years, your fathers, not so much. but they got along okay.

when draco first became part of the death eaters, his mother decided it’d be easiest to have you there, to make it a little less hard on him.

“excuse me for a moment.” draco mumbled, somewhat abruptly, as lucius and the lord were in the middle of a conversation. draco stood up within the blink of an eye, and sped walked out of the room.

“would you be a dear and check on him for me, honey?” narcissa leaned over and whispered in your ear, as you were seated between draco and his mother.

you gave a small half-smile with a nod, as you politely excused yourself, afraid of what voldemort could do if you had done it in a way of which he didn’t like.

you went around the halls of malfoy manor, the walls of which most of your childhood memories took place, as sad as that is.

you saw a crack in the door of draco’s room, and you opened the door a tad more

draco said there, looking down at his folded hands, not saying anything.

“are you okay?” you asked, even though you already knew the answer.

“those meetings…get to me, sometimes.” the blonde mumbled, his voice cracking slightly.

“me too..” you answered, rubbing your hand up and down his back, as you sat next to him.

“thank you, for always being here. i’ve spent my whole life with you, i never want to let you go.” draco said, giving a small smile.

“i won’t ever leave you behind, okay?”

“this is exactly why i fell in love with you all those years ago.”

“wait…what?” you denied, your voice quiet.

“you heard me, i love you (y/n).”

ginevera m. weasley…

who said it: her

when: 5th year (well 4th year for her)

“hey (y/n)!” a familiar, high, squeaky voice called out to you, sounding a bit distant.

“oh, hi, ginny.” you half smiled, looking down at the younger girl.

“i need to talk to you, now.” ginny asked — well demanded, but she meant to ask.

you’ve known ginny long enough at this point to know sometimes, when she wants to ask a question, it can accidentally turn into a demand. especially, when she’s nervous.

“okay, no problem.” you reported, knowing exactly what she was going to say.

she grabs your wrist with a firm grip — but not firm enough for your to be hurt. and walks you down to a more empty side of the hogwarts express.

“i love you. and quite frankly, i hate it when you spend more time with my brothers and less time with me because it’s not fair, i fancy you!” the smaller ginger insisted, with a small stomp of her foot to show she meant what she said.

“i love you too, don’t worry, gin.” you spoke, as you tucked a string of hair behind her ear, that was before in the middle of her face.

she gave a lopsided grin before happily skipping off and giving a sing-songy goodbye.

seamus d. finnigan…

who said it: him

when: 4th year

the yule ball of the 1994 school year was slowly coming to a close, but you were unable to find where your date had ran off to, one moment he was with his best friend, dean thomas — and now you have no bloody clue where he is.

there was only one placed you hadn’t looked yet — the astronomy tower.

you begin your walk up the tower of many staircases and you hear some intense coughing the higher and higher you reach.

before your eyes, you see your boyfriend — or date, or technically boy friend, as the relationship between the two of you is a bit complicated, with a cigarette between his fingers.

“hey seamus.” you say, as you sit down next to him, leaning into his touch.

“hi doll.” he says, grinning as he puts an arm around your waist.

“can i smoke with you?”

“absolutely not, angel!” seamus gasps, shocked, putting a dramatized hand to his chest, his mouth open a gap.

“huh? why not?” you asked, now just confused.

“because! i love you! i’m not letting a gorgeous goddess inhale that shit!” seamus replied, now tossing his cigarette away into the distance.

“you love me?”

“with every inch my body stands.”

fred g. weasley…

who said it: him

when: 5th year (3rd book/movie)

“i don’t know how you could even do this, i don’t know what half of this is supposed to to mean..” your ginger boyfriend said, cuddled up into your side, as the two of you studied for the following potions exams.

“well, to make it’s quite simple, it’s just seeing it on paper is the hard part.” you said, nudging him slightly, to make sure he wouldn’t fall asleep again.

“oh, how so?” he asked.

“well actually you take the-”

and before you could get any further, your boyfriend pecked you on the lips.

“sorry, at first i was interested and then i just didn’t care anymore.” fred said with a chuckle.

“fred gideon weasley!!”

“i’m sorry, i love you, does that make it better?”

“i… yes.”

george g. weasley…

who said it: him

when: 7th year (5th book/movie)

i mustn’t make mistakes any longer.

i mustn’t make mistakes any longer.

i mustn’t make mistakes any longer.

i mustn’t make mistakes any longer.

i mustn’t make mistakes any longer.

the words on your arm continued to ring in your ear, like the tangy feeling on your tongue after eating spicy foods.

none of this would’ve happened if you didn’t snap at the new d.a.d.a teacher - dolores umbridge.

the torturous (literally), cruel woman put you through so much pain in one detention.

don’t get me wrong, you’ve gotten detention once in 2nd year, but this could never compare.

the words on your arm were the ones that made you cry terrifying sobs as you had to continue to write and write and write - thanks to your low physical pain tolerance and somewhat sensitive heart, you just couldn’t bare it.

sprinkles of raindrops began to form in your eyes, they ground onto the table you were sitting at, as you tried to rub your eyes before anyone happened to notice.

“hey, love, are you okay?” george weasley - your boyfriend asked, scurrying over to you.

your arm was angled in the correcting lighting and point of view to where the taller ginger could see your scars perfectly.

“blimey!” your boyfriend shouted, pointing, before madam prince gave him a stern shooshing.

“what happened?”

you clung onto him immediately, sobbing quietly,

“hey love — it’s okay, i love you, i’m here and i always will be.”

[sciencebecameouraddiction]

title: dancing in the rain

author: sciencebecameouraddiction

fandom: hazbin hotel

rating: PG

genre: slight, baby angst/ major fluff

pairing: Alastor x Reader

summary: all hell had was acid rain, and all you wanted was the rainstorms you knew on earth.

Rain hardly ever was an occurrence in Hell. And when it was, it was acid rain. You sighed, looking out the window and watched the green acid pouring down on everything, missing desperately the rain storms that you had on earth. Being the youngest at the hotel, you remembered more clearly the burn of the sun on your skin, the cool breeze on a fall day and even the mix of the humidity in the air that felt like it would choke you but the reprieve as a rainstorm came and fell from the heavens.

“What has you so melancholy, my dear?” A voice asked behind you, shockingly quiet all things considered, toning down the announcer quality in his voice.

“Hey Alastor, just thinking is all.” You replied and smiled at him, not wanting to explain that the acid rain made you sad.

“Now, whatever it is that you’re thinking about is casting a dark shadow over your usually lovely face. So, tell me, what’s wrong? What kind of hotelier might I be if I didn’t ensure that all the patrons here were happy?” He said, the announcer tone coming back into his voice, which made you wince. Knowing that meant he knew you were lying so he was going to put on a show if you were. You sigh.

“It’s the rain.” You explain.

“The what now?” He asks, all effects gone from his voice except shock and a bit of confusion.

“The rain. I miss the rain. Not this rain. The rain on earth. The smell of the earth after a good rain storm, the way that especially in the summer when it was so hot, the rain was a cool reprieve. It always felt like…” You trailed off.

“Forgiveness?” Alastor finished, looking outside the hotel now too. You blink and look up at him.

“Yes. Are you sure you don’t read minds?” You chuckle, resting your head on your hand. You suddenly feel his microphone tap your head. You look up at him as holds his arm out to you.

“Come with me.” He says, not giving you time to feel confused. As when you take his arm you shadow travel with him to the other side of the hotel appearing at the door of his room.

“This is your room.” You say, confused now.

“Ever observant. A skill many would kill for I’m sure.” He smiles at you, but the sarcasm is evident as he holds open the door for you and you step into his room.

“Just a certified Sherlock Holmes.” You roll your eyes, taking his sarcasm.

“I never had the chance to read those books.” He mused for a moment, as he shut his door and walked around you heading to the forest area. You stayed near the door.

“I have the collection if you’d like to borrow it and read them.” You explain. “They are annotated though, so you’ll have to put up with my notes.” You explain.

“That would be lovely, dear.” Alastor says stepping on the grass and you watch as he takes off his coat and hangs it on a coat rack that appeared suddenly. He turns to you. “Aren’t you coming?”

“I-I guess?” You say, more like a question. You jog over to him and start walking next to him. “Are you killing me in your forest because I complained about acid rain?”

“Oh, no. Not you at least.” Alastor chuckles. “I want to show you something.” You look up at him skeptically.

“Hey Alastor, can you take smaller steps?” You ask having to jog to keep up with him. He looks down and hums seeing how you were almost running next to him.

“Good to know that if I had to catch you I could do so without breaking a sweat.” He says, as he walks slower and taking smaller steps, allowing you to actually walk, instead of run.

“Har har.” You say deadpanned and roll your eyes. You walk into a clearing that has a cabin in the middle. The whole forest felt like it was shrouded in the twilight of fall when lightening bugs gently floated around and the sky was a perpetual shade of blue, purple and pink. You finally looked up and around, seeing the trees, the bugs, the animals, the sky. Tears formed in your eyes. “Alastor, this is beautiful. It looks just like-“ You stop, your throat constricting as emotion overtakes you. You feel Alastor’s clawed hand rest on your shoulder.

“Just like earth?” He finishes, speaking softer than you had ever heard. You nod and look at him, watching him take everything in and then looking down at you.

“Come, let me show you something else.” He says, walking away and heading to the cabin. You walk in and suddenly feel at home. The decor is a little dated and you feel transported to the 1920’s, but it’s all homey. There’s a kitchen, a living room, a lounge and a hall way leading to what you assumed to be a bed room. You walk through the living room, taking it in but trying not to pry at the photos Alastor had in frames along the mantel of the fire place, you see at the back door there is almost like a deck, with a more modern porch swing.

“The porch swing is a nice addition.” You mention, smiling a bit at the modern accessory in what felt like a time capsule.

Alastor chuckles as he sets his microphone down and rolls up the sleeves of his shirt. He joins you next to the window. “You haven’t seen the best part.” He murmurs, unusually quiet and reserved. You don’t mention the change in demeanor though, wanting to savor the quiet and this almost more authentic view of the Radio Demon.

“What’s the best-“ You stop when you hear it. The start of a pitter patter of rain on the roof, that builds and when you look outside, it’s raining. “Is that?” You blink a few times.

“It is. Safe for you to touch as well. You won’t get hurt.” He smiles a genuine looking smile as he goes over to the record player and starts playing music. Your hand touches the door, feeling the coolness of the water slide down the glass pane. You can’t stop yourself as Alastor fiddles with the record player, you open the door, quickly closing it so no rain would get in the cabin and rush outside off the deck. Twirling in the grass as the rain poured down soaking you.

“What are you doing?” Alastor yelled from the door, watching you like you had gone mad.

“Dancing in the rain!” You yelled back, a smile feeling permanent on your face.

“You’ll catch a cold, get back inside!” He says, looking up at the sky and then back at you.

“No! Come join me! It’s amazing! This is exactly what I remember.” You say holding you hand out to Alastor. His smile looks more like a grimace as he takes you in looking like a wet dog. He looks back inside and waves his hand at something and you see towels appear and the record player is louder so you can hear it outside. He takes off his shoes and socks and places them neatly at the door but far enough away that when you come in, water or mud won’t get on them.

He walks out getting drenched almost immediately as you run up to him and grab his hand and pull him on the grass. You take both his hands and start trying to spin around in a circle with him, as you see his eyebrow raise. You stop and look at him, a little disappointed when he doesn’t spin with you and you start to let go of his hand, until his hand tightens and pulls you to him.

“We can dance in the rain, but we will be actually be dancing.” He says as he proceeds to guide you through a dance that was popular when Alastor was alive, morphing into an odd mash up of a swing dance and you dancing like you were at a rave. You both settled down and were now just slow dancing as the song had turned a bit slower. You watched as Alastor’s eyes were closed as his face angled up to the sky. You made a spit second decision, and rested your head on his chest, really it was like the start of his abdomen but it was as tall as you could reach. You didn’t see his head snap down to you and watch as you seemingly relaxed in his arms, drunk off the warmth he gave and the cool from the rain still coming down. His hand moved up, and grabbed your chin, encouraging you to look at him. As you did, you saw his eyes widen and his cheeks turn bright red.

“What’s wrong?” You ask quietly.

“I’ve never… done anything like this before.” He says quietly, and it breaks the fogginess you felt before.

“You don’t have to be scared. It’s just me.” You say, as if it’s the most simple thing in the world.

“Just you? Darling, just you is enough to have me go to war.” Alastor murmurs and then his eyes widen again, shocked. You realize that he is just blurting things out and there is no filter. You smile.

“Well, I’m honored that the Radio Demon would want to be in my corner.” You say as your hand reaches up to touch his cheek, stopping just a few centimeters away, allowing him to close the gap if he wanted to. He leans into your touch shaking his head.

“Not the Radio Demon, dear. Just Alastor.” He says, looking at you with a vulnerability you had never seen before. Your eyes widen and you smile.

“Even better.”

[voices-in-dark-violets-head]

"Be Yourself", says the Furry Fandom.

And yet, as with many things in life, it's far easier said than done.

I've found that 'being myself' can take a lot of bravery, but I want to tell you why it's so, so important.

Storytime!

At Eurofurence this year, I ran the e621 Gameshow for the third year in a row. And for the third year in a row, we were over capacity. As in, security-comes-in-to-tell-people-to-leave levels of over capacity (Which, my dear sympathies once again with those who had to go!)

We had a crowd that was there for an hour and a half of weird furry porn. Who cheered for horsecock. Who delighted in Falco Lombardi macro art. A hundred people - a quarter of the room - gleefully admitted to being into vore.

The atmosphere was electric, and I hadn't even needed my e-stim kit. This was a crowd who rejoiced in the adult side of the fandom!

And then I asked them - how many people had a fetish they'd be nervous admitting to?

A third of the room raised their hands.

In a room that had been laughing moments earlier about the amount of Mufasa/Simba porn, or getting a 100% success rate on guessing popular cock shapes, 1/3 of them weren't confident in revealing those same parts of themselves.

I don't think this is rare.

I've had folks ask me if I get hate for the kind of art I draw (not really much at all, by the way). But worse, I get people telling me - they wish they could draw what they want, write the characters they love… but they fear what others might say.

I've had commissioners remain anonymous, for fear of people knowing what they're into. Known artists start up alt accounts, so that they can draw a kink without their friends knowing. Writers wringing their hands over possible reactions to their stories.

And I would love to tell you it's all just fear - but truth is, it isn't.

Because it ain't just the big patron sites that are swinging the axe on the 'too weird'. Our own sites - our communities - sharpen their restrictions. Whole kinks, loving and accepted, are now 'too far'.

We're fearing the gaze from the outside. We're hearing their derision. And that can scare us, cause us to hide not just ourselves, but those around us. "What if they think that I'm into that? What would they say? I need to prove I'm not!"

We all crave love and acceptance. And in a fandom formed in rejection from society, don't we just hold such ideals even more tightly? So much so that the very idea of this same community throwing us out - for being ourselves? Of course it's terrifying.

But it turns out, even us outcasts, outsiders… we can all hold prejudices. We all have the ability to draw lines, and give too little thought to what that means. We can so easily turn our own opinions, our fear of what others think of us, into rules that hurt and exclude.

And therein lies the issue. "Be yourself", says the fandom, without stopping to consider how treacherous, how thorned that path can be. To be yourself, sometimes, is to suffer the disgust of those who would tell you to do it in the first place.

But… I'm missing something.

Thing is, this fandom isn't based on any one thing. We're not just here because Zootopia was a kinda cool movie, or Twokinds is pretty sexy, or StarFox looks good when he's fifteen stories tall.

We follow no one IP, no webcomic, no TV show. We follow only one thing:

Ourselves.

WE make the fandom we live in. We're dozens of sexualities, a hundred meetups and conventions, a thousand discord servers and Telegram channels, a million pictures and stories and alt-accounts and roleplays…

We decide what we are.

Aren't we the haven of the weird? The questioning of sexualities? The taboo, even incomprehensible kinks? We joke about vore, knots, gratuitous foot fetishists, but isn't that what makes this place home? Isn't every artist drawing obvious kink art following a beautiful legacy?

We are the monsterfuckers. The maw-obsessed, the paw-sluts, the musk-lovers (er, not that one). With every fetish we draw, every kink we commission, every smut-filled story and problematic character and taboo-laden roleplay…

We're the fandom, making ourselves.

Through being myself, through art and stories and chats and servers, I've found new communities. New friends. New ways to think, new art to enjoy. I've found love, deeper than I ever thought possible.

I've found myself.

And I've been told that through my artwork, stories, friend groups, I've helped people do the same. They've found the words to describe what's been inside them this whole time.

They've found they're not alone.

It's one of the sweetest and most delightful things I've heard.

Yes, it takes bravery to be yourself. You risk being misperceived, either accidentally or wilfully. You risk hurt. You risk confusion. But it's nothing you haven't done before. And in its wake, you will find yourself.

Do not let other people dictate who you are.

Do not let other people dictate who you are.

So when I say to keep furry weird, this is what I mean. Find that part of yourself that yearns to be free, and make this fandom the place for it.

Be yourself. Be so amazingly yourself that your very existence is an act of rebellion.

And Keep. Furry. Weird.

[cevansbrat0007]

On the Clock

Summary: Ari stops by for a snack while he's out chasing a lead.

Warnings: Smut, Ari Being A Menace, Oral Sex (fem rec), Finger Fucking, Ass Slapping, Ass Grabbing, Handcuffs (mentioned), Overstimulation (implied), Cursing, Pet Names, Minors DNI

A/N: Part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are sincerely appreciated.

___

“Oh God, I–Beast!”

Your fist slams down on the desk as your legs threaten to give out from under you. It was all too much. Between each sinful flick of his tongue, and the delicate precision of his thick fingers roughly pumping in and out of your dripping pussy… 

You weren’t sure if you were actually going to survive. 

“Gimme one more, Bird. Just one.” Ari’s free hand comes down hard on your ass, the sharp crack echoing through your tiny stockroom and spilling out into the shop. “You can do it.” 

A muffled sob escapes as you cling to the cool, flat surface for dear life while that same hand delivers another blow – this time giving your cheek a hard squeeze after it lands. His punishing grip all but ensuring that you’ll be heading home with fresh bruises, although he has yet to hear you complain. 

Especially after he just got done telling you that all your sweet curves belonged to him anyway. A fact that you were no longer as interested in disputing as you once used to be. Maybe it was because you enjoyed wearing his marks almost as much as he enjoyed giving them to you.  

The filthy wet squelch of his fingers as they ruthlessly fuck your cunt, along with with the sounds of your desperate cries, has you feeling grateful that there’s no one around to witness just how pitiful you must look. 

Of course you have Ari to thank for that, whose quick thinking brought you to this very moment. 

Which involves him kneeling between your parted thighs, eating your pussy from the back. Devouring you as if his life depends on it. And for all you knew, it did.

Because when Ari had sent you a message at 11:57am asking if you were free for a quick snack, you’d had no idea that he’d been referring to this. But then again, you also hadn’t had time to respond, what with you trying to box up orders for several waiting customers. 

Which meant that you’d been just as surprised as anyone when he strolled through the doors of Baubles & Quills less than ten minutes later, with his badge displayed on his hip and a scowl etched across his ruggedly handsome face.

Confused by his sudden presence, you’d offered him a brief smile before suggesting that he might be more comfortable waiting for you in the back. Of course your bounty hunter had declined, muttering something about “being on the clock”. And then he’d stood off in the corner glowering at the small group of patrons that were steadily occupying your time. 

Precious time that was apparently reserved for him.

Shaking your head, you’d simply returned your attention to running your business. If Ari had questions that needed answering before you were slated to see him tonight, then he was going to have to wait his turn. Afterall, you had bills to pay for both this place as well as your own home. And providing quality customer service was one way to ensure that you would be able to do all of that on time and in full.

However, that’s not to say that you weren’t affected by his presence. It was almost impossible to ignore the weight of his heavy gaze. Especially since your body felt the need to respond accordingly against your own best interests.

From your quickening pulse and pebbled nipples, to your slightly shaking hands and damp panties, your bounty hunter was not the type to be so easily relegated to the background. Nor was he the kind of man who would allow himself to be forgotten either.

Which was why you then witnessed Ari escort your last patron, the lovely Ms. Greta Thurman who was also pushing 80, out to her car with all the patience of a saint. Only for him to return seconds later, this time locking the door behind him and flipping your sign around to signal that the shop was closed – without your fucking permission.

You’d opened your mouth, fully prepared to protest such gross mistreatment. Only to swiftly think better of it the moment you’d gotten a good look at his face. And then he’d motioned for you to join him back in the stockroom, which had been roughly twenty minutes ago. And now…

Now, you were growing increasingly convinced you were going to die. And yet, the Beast at your back had the nerve to keep demanding that you give him one more. Always just one more. 

“Poor little Bird.” Ari hums, sounding slightly out of breath. But he doesn’t let that stop him, especially when he feels you clench around his fingers when they strum over that special spot inside you. “You might be done, but your pussy wants more.” His pointed tongue goes back to rhythmically lashing at your sensitive clit. 

Again and again. It was enough to drive a woman crazy.

“It’s so good, Beast! S’good!” You mewl, your short, blunt nails scraping against the desk. “S’goo–fuckfuckfuck!” Your ability to form coherent sentences has long since abandoned you, leaving you a sweaty, blubbering mess as your body works overtime to process the intensity of the pleasure coursing through your veins.

“My greedy girl.” His harsh growl has your knees about ready to buckle. “Greediest pussy I’ve ever had.” Sensing you’re about to collapse, he removes his fingers from your wet heat, making you whine. And then he goes back to squeezing and kneading your ass, loving the way you rise up on your toes as he holds you open for his assault.

“Ari!” You continue to whine, wishing you still had his fingers buried deep in your cunt, even as your impending orgasm looms. He growls again in response, the heady vibrations pulsing through your entire overly stimulated body.

You try to run – attempting to climb over the desk in search of refuge – only for your bounty hunter to drag you back. 

“Try that shit again and I’ll cuff you.” Is the only gruff warning you receive before he goes back to lapping at your honeyed folds. The vulgar sounds he makes as he sucks and slurps at your heated flesh, demonstrating just how committed he is to his task.

And he positively hated being interrupted. Your vision blurs when he reaches around to stroke talented fingers along your swollen nub, taking special care not to send you over the edge until he felt you were ready.

Asshole.

Your hips continue to writhe and buck beneath his assault, but you don’t try to run again. And this time when your orgasm washes over you, it feels so good it hurts. Your mouth falls open on a silent scream as wave after wave of bliss sends your nerve endings buzzing. 

It was hands down some of the most exquisite pleasure you had ever experienced. 

Eventually Ari relaxes his hold, albeit rather reluctantly, before giving you a minute or two to get your bearings. “Thank you, baby.” He murmurs, the husky timbre of his voice sending another small jolt of white-hot electricity pulsing through you as he goes to stand up. “That should be enough to get me through.” 

“Huh?” Comes your weak reply. Frankly, he’s lucky to even get that. Right now you could barely function, let alone string together a damn sentence. But then it registers that he’s leaving. 

Even though he hadn’t –

“I really hate to eat and run, but I’m afraid I’m on the clock.” He winks at you, taking a moment to twirl your ruined panties around his index finger. “Just needed a taste of something sweet first.” He then tucks the garment into the back pocket of his jeans. 

At this rate, your entire underwear drawer was going to be empty before the month’s end. Which meant that you were going to have to put your foot down and demand he return them. At least a few pairs anyway. The brute wouldn’t be happy until you were walking around this town going commando. 

“Oh.” You mumble, feeling a pang of disappointment as you push your damp curls off of your forehead. “Um, okay.” But as quickly as it comes, it’s replaced by a fresh surge of heat in your belly when you finally notice the wetness still darkening his beard. Something he didn’t seem too worried about fixing.

“Aw, don’t look so disappointed, Bird.” His big hands go to frame your face, pulling you close to capture your lips in a heartfelt kiss that has you practically melting. And you can’t help the sliver of female satisfaction that slowly unfurls inside of you when you catch a hint of your warm, earthy scent on his skin. 

Because whether you realized it or not, you’d just marked your territory in a way no other woman could possibly compete with. This Beast was all yours for the time being. 

“There we go.” Grinning when you finally relax, your gentle giant pecks your lips one last time before stepping away from you. He winces slightly, adjusting his straining erection through his jeans, inwardly cursing the fact he had an appointment across town that he was probably already late for. “I’ll be at your place no later than 8:00pm with takeout from Mi Patron. Text me what you want and then be sure to call when you’re locking up, okay?”

“Okay, Ari.” You breathe, your teeth going to nibble at your bottom lip. “It’s a date.” On impulse, you raise up on your toes and wrap your arms around his neck, dragging him down for one last kiss – which he eagerly accepts without an ounce of fight. 

“Sorry.” Is all you say when you finally allow yourselves to come up for air. In truth, you weren’t feeling even remotely apologetic. But you did have an image to maintain so… “Must’ve lost my balance.”

“Right.” Ari whistles low, shaking his head as he pins you with a knowing look. “I’ll see you later. Behave while I’m gone, sweet girl.” With that, he turns on his heel and heads in the direction of your front door. Leaving you alone to make peace with the fact that you were falling for this man.

“I’m doomed.” You mutter, staring down at your bare toes while you debate your next move. On one hand, you supposed you could always skip town. But given his profession, you reasoned he’d be able to track you down with relative ease. 

Well, there went that option. With a sigh you bend down to pick up your capris so you can go about making yourself look presentable again, sans panties. The way you saw it, the only choice you had left was to go down swinging. Which made sense. And if that was the case, then…

“I’m taking you down with me, Levinson.”

END

___

Unofficial Tag List

@daykrisr99

@identity2212

[dearlenore]

15 MINUTES. / L.ALVEZ / SUMMARY - Luke takes care of you after a sleep attack

PAIRING: narcoleptic!reader x luke alvez / w/c: 1.2k / fluff

a/n: In Sabrina we trust, also this might be my second Luke alvez piece so be nice to me, this suggestion was PRECIOUS as a chronically ill girly , anon request here

You’d warned them when you joined the team, countless times actually.

“I’m not fragile or a liability,” you’d said softly, fingers laced tightly in your lap. “I can manage to be a good media liaison. I’ve managed and lived with this for years. Some days are just better than others.”

They’d nodded, Emily asked a few careful questions, Spencer was fascinated. And Luke Alvez? Silent, unreadable— just staring at you with soft eyes that seemed to memorize everything about you.

You thought he’d be the one to tread carefully around you, like a ballerina on pointe shoes.

He wasn’t.

He was worse.

He acted like it didn’t matter.

And for some reason, that annoyed you.

“You don’t have to carry that…” You’d said between yawns, entirely unrelated to your condition as you watched him sling your go bag over his shoulder.

“I know I don’t,” he laughed. “I want to.”

“Are you patronizing me?” You said, almost too quiet to be accusatory.

“I’m not, I just wanna help.” He reassured you, holding his hands in mock surrender.

You looked at him like a dear in headlights which made him laugh.

“I don’t treat you any differently than my other female co workers.” Luke shrugged.

Your chest fluttered with something you couldn’t quite explain, but it made you sweat. You felt annoyed by the safety he made you feel, the kindness he showed you.

Because for some reason, the way you got lightheaded around him, the way you nearly fell asleep around him was all too much. Too soon.

The first time it happened in front of him, you were flying back from Miami. The case had ended early and you were curled up against the window, a small pillow underneath your head

Luke was sitting across the aisle, pretending not to look at you with slight concern at your sleepy state. He did that a lot. You’d gotten good at pretending not to notice.

The last thing you remembered was the hum of the engine, a sense of light headedness and an indescribable sleepiness.

Then—blackness.

One could argue it was sleep but it felt more like passing out, because your sure as heck didn’t feel refreshed afterwards.

Like someone pulled a plug from the back of your brain.

When you’d finally woken up, you were practically drooling against his thigh, your pillow had snuck out from beneath you and the imprint of the window lingered on your cheek.

His hand was on your shoulder, your cheek resting against his pant leg. He didn’t say anything—just reached down with his free hand and passed you a bottle of water like it was the most normal thing in the world.

You took it quietly, feeling embarrassment at your vulnerability.

“You were out for fifteen minutes,” he said softly. “You twitched a little. I figured you’d want someone close, just in case.”

Fighting the shame, you looked up at him, mumbling a quiet thank you with a smile. He seemed partially surprised you hadn’t moved.

Rather than mention it, he ran his fingers through your hair.

After that, you tried your best to avoid him, avoid what he made you feel but it was no use.

The case in Vermont was different, to say the least. You and Luke were tasked with investigating the scene. Usually this was a simple task but as luck would have it… it wasn’t for you.

Nearly the moment you’d knelt down, everything went dark. You hadn’t thought to inform him you weren’t feeling well.

Not only did you neglect to eat but you also didn’t bother to sleep much the past night or so since the little boy had gone missing.

“Y/N. Come on. Come back to me. That’s it. Eyes on me.”

That’s the first thing you hear.

You blinked up.

Luke was holding you—his body crouched low, your head cradled gently in his lap. One hand cupped the side of your face; the other stroked your hair with careful tenderness. He looked… wrecked.

And angry. But not at you.

At the world, maybe. Or whatever cruel twist of fate made you the one who had to live like this.

You tried to sit up, but your limbs were trembling.

“I’m okay,” you whispered.

He shook his head. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Pretend. Minimize.” His voice cracked just slightly. “You scared me.”

That stopped you.

“You’re not supposed to be scared,” you murmured, almost childlike.

“I don’t care what I’m supposed to be,” he said. “You went down like someone flipped a switch. You could’ve hit your head. You could’ve—” He stopped himself. Swallowed hard. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

“I don’t like being looked at like I’m broken.” You snickered light heartedly.

“I’m not looking at you like you’re broken,” he said. “I’m looking at you like I care.”

And you didn’t have words for that.

So you let him hold you.

Just for a little while.

Just long enough to remember that softness doesn’t always mean weakness.

He knocked on your motel door that night. Again.

You didn’t pretend you were asleep.

You opened the door, and he was standing there—sweatshirt, jeans, a paper bag in hand.

“I brought you ginger ale. And a muffin. I don’t know if you ate. You crashed hard.”

You stepped aside.

No words. Just trust.

He sat at the edge of the bed while you pulled a blanket around your shoulders. Your hands were still shaking faintly, the crash coming on slow.

You looked at him.

“Will you stay?” you asked, voice small.

He didn’t hesitate.

He kicked off his shoes, settled beside you, and pulled you into his chest.

The room was silent except for the hum of the AC and the soft cadence of his voice as he murmured a story from his K9 days, letting it fill the air like a lullaby.

You didn’t remember falling asleep.

But you remembered the feeling:

Safe. Warm.

Not alone.

The next morning, you woke tangled in him—his chest under your cheek, your fingers clutching the edge of his shirt like a lifeline.

His hand was still in your hair.

You shifted slightly, half-expecting him to pull away.

He didn’t.

He looked down at you, bleary-eyed and beautiful, and whispered:

“You don’t have to keep running. I’m not going anywhere.”

Something about those words unraveled you completely.

So when he leaned in, slow and reverent, and pressed a kiss to your temple—

You let him.

And when you turned your head and kissed him back—

He let you.

Soft. Slow. Breathless.

Like neither of you had ever been kissed like that before.

After that, everything changed. But nothing did.

You still worked beside each other. Still chased down unsubs and pieced together patterns in blood and tragedy.

But now you had someone to catch you when the tide came in.

Someone who didn’t flinch when your body betrayed you.

Someone who stayed.

And for the first time in a long time—you let yourself fall.

Not into sleep.

Into him.

Into love.

All it had taken were those 15 minutes to fall in love with him. Unconscious or otherwise.

[bellaxgiornata]

Underneath the Mistletoe

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 4.8k

Summary: Tired of enduring the obvious pining between you and Matt, Foggy and Karen plan a way to get you and Matt to admit your feelings - or at least to kiss.

Warnings/tags: Nothing but holiday fluff and first kisses

a/n: Finally I managed to get a holiday fic written with everything going on here for me for at least one of my boys! This one grew longer than anticipated but I hope y'all enjoy! Feedback is always appreciated!

Matt Murdock One Shot Tag List: @pazii @shouldbestudying41 @kmc1989 @ebathory997 @mattkinsella @yeonalie @shiorimakibawrites @xxdrixx @wkndwlff @leikelle @pinkratts @lazyxsquirrel @1988-fiend @marvelcinematiquniverse @carstairswife @stilldreaming666 @kiwwia-wiwwia @willwork4dilfs @will-delete-this-later-probably @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @theetherealbloom @yarrystyleeza @dramaholic18

Walking in step beside Foggy with her heels clacking along the sidewalk, Karen twirled the branch of mistletoe in her hand, her eyes transfixed on it as it spun. A soft laugh lightly fell from her lips as she shook her head at the fresh clipping. Glancing over her shoulder, she shot Foggy a questioning look beside her. The movement caught his attention and he shifted towards her, catching her eye in return.

“What?” Foggy asked. “What's with that look?”

Karen raised her hand, holding out the mistletoe towards him. One blonde brow rose up onto her forehead skeptically as she eyed him.

“I don't know, Fog,” she mused. “Do you really think this is going to accomplish anything tonight?”

Foggy let out a huff as he reached out, snatching the branch from her hand. He glared playfully back at Karen as Josie’s bar came into view farther down the block.

“Of course it is!” he exclaimed. “Because it's mistletoe , Karen! When two people stand under it, they are required to kiss.”

Karen rolled her eyes, waving a dismissive hand at him. “I know what it is, Fog,” she replied. “But do you think it'll actually get them to kiss? Or even go so far as to admit that they have feelings for each other?”

“It has to,” Foggy answered firmly. “Because I for one am personally tired of Matt making plans to come to Josie’s on specific nights after work, at specific times, just to run into our pretty new friend who often comes here alone because she's quite clearly smitten by our dear, frustrating Matthew. I mean, aren't you tired of watching all the obvious pining, too?”

Karen expelled an audible breath, a wispy cloud of water vapor forming in the air in front of her before it dispersed into the frigid night. Running a gloved hand through her hair, she nodded.

“Yeah, I am,” she agreed. “I mean it's so clear that she's interested in him with the way her eyes are always glued to him whenever he's around. Always smiling at him. And Matt is always finding ways to flirt with her. Or constantly inviting her to meet us back at Josie’s whenever he can–there's absolutely no way he can deny it, either. There's clearly something there.”

“So tonight we'll just…help them along,” Foggy told her, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “Right? Just to get them to stop dancing around their feelings with a little, festive nudge. That's all.”

Slowly, a devious smile spread itself across Karen’s lips as the pair came to a stop in front of the bar. Foggy shot Karen a conspiratorial wink before he opened the door to the bar, a burst of warm air wafting out immediately. He waved her inside before following after her, his eyes scanning the room for Josie. The moment he spotted her behind the bar he held up the branch of mistletoe in the air high above his head.

“Josie!” he called out. 

Behind the bar, Josie’s head darted up from the bottle of beer she was opening for a patron. When recognition dawned on her face at who had called for her, she shot the pair of them a flat look. 

“What do you want, Nelson?” she called back.

“Two beers and your permission to hang this up in your fine establishment,” Foggy answered her, waving the mistletoe above his head again. 

Josie eyed the branch for a moment before dramatically rolling her eyes. “Whatever,” she shot back, focusing back on opening the bottle of beer. “Just as long as you aren't expecting me to kiss you tonight.”

“Aww, Josie,” Foggy cooed, “you wound me so! And on such a magical evening no less.”

“Pay your tab and it'll be a magical evening,” Josie quipped back.

Beside Foggy, Karen threw a hand over her mouth as a giggle bubbled up out of her. Foggy shot Karen yet another playful glare before he led the way over towards the bar, eager to see how the night would unfold.

“Ugh, it was such a good look on his face, too!” Foggy exclaimed, slamming his palm onto the small wooden table for emphasis. “I mean, when Matt dropped that line to the jury, you could just see the color drain from Samson's face! It was beautiful !”

A smile pulled at the corner of your lips as you glanced down at the bottle of beer before you. You'd made your way through the flurry of snowflakes outside once you'd left your office, walking all the way over to Josie’s just so you could meet up with the three lawyers you'd strangely come to befriend here over the past few months. 

The three of them often loved to celebrate their wins in court here, something you had quickly found yourself invited to as if you'd always been part of the group–or the law firm of Nelson, Murdock, and Page itself–instead of just having been the woman at the bar Foggy had once accidentally spilled a drink on before insisting that he buy you your next drink to apologize. After that night when you'd met his friends, you usually found yourself joining them at this little dive bar on a weekly basis. 

And it was no surprise to you that the three of them would be here again this evening because you'd seen them here only two nights ago when Matt himself had asked if you'd join them again. It was quite a confident gesture of him to invite you out to celebrate their win already that night, too, considering the trial hadn’t even happened yet–though confidence bordering on cockiness seemed the norm when it came to Matthew Murdock. Initially you hadn't been planning to come out tonight, but the moment his red lenses had focused on you from across the table and he had flashed you that charming smile on his handsome face, you knew you'd change your plans just to spend another few hours in his presence. You couldn't exactly resist the attractive lawyer who was always flashing smiles in your direction, and he often wasn't far from your mind whenever you weren’t here. 

But of course you'd never admit that. 

“It was pretty entertaining, I'll agree,” Karen replied.

Across the table from you, Matt shifted in his chair. The moment his knee brushed yours underneath the table, your hand tightened around your beer bottle. Inhaling a sharp breath, you sat entirely still in your seat, glad Matt couldn't see your reaction. Though you could feel the heat rising up your neck as your knee felt like it was pleasantly tingling from the brief contact with his. Across from you, Matt cleared his throat, one of his large hands rising from the table and tugging at the collar of his tie. You fought hard to not openly stare at his fingers as they pulled at the fabric, a tight smile slipping onto his lips.

“If only I could have witnessed it,” Matt added.

Internally you agreed. You could only imagine what it would be like to see Matt in action, delivering such powerful and impassioned speeches that you'd only ever drunkenly heard him recite in bits and pieces after the fact at Josie’s. You'd love to see him with his tie done up tight and his suit jacket on, his broad shoulders squared in that confident manner he had as he walked around the courtroom as if he owned it. Which you knew he must do in court because you saw him do it every time he entered this bar. 

And it never failed to turn you on.

You knew it was stupid and foolish, but you wanted him horribly; you always had ever since the night he held out his hand to you and told you his name. He was a beautiful mystery, always so observant for a man lacking one of his senses. And he was charming and flirtatious, which often threw you off even though you assumed it was just his personality. Admittedly you had a crush on him, one you were too afraid to ever confess because he seemed far too out of your league. 

“Hey,” Foggy said, cutting through your thoughts, “what do you all say to a game of pool tonight? Guys against gals?”

Attention shifting to Foggy who was sitting beside Matt, you noticed the way his eyes were darting around the three of you. Eyes narrowing curiously for a moment, you wondered what was with the look he seemed to keep shooting Karen. Out of the corner of your eye, you swore you saw Matt’s dark brow rise curiously above his glasses as if he somehow had also detected something strange in the way Foggy had suggested the game of pool. 

“I don't know,” you began slowly, eyeing the three of them. “I think maybe tonight I'll sit the game out. I'm pretty worn out from work today, I don't think I’m up for a game.”

Foggy’s eyes immediately went wide, his mouth falling open as he gaped at you. Your bottom lip slipped between your teeth awkwardly as you sent him a sheepish smile.

“Oh come on!” Foggy pressed. “It’ll be fun! I promise!”

“Sorry,” you muttered, shrugging lightly. “Not tonight for me.”

Foggy opened his mouth as if he was about to immediately protest, but you felt a hand lightly land on your shoulder. Glancing to your left, you spotted Karen shooting you a wide smile as her piercing blue eyes locked onto yours.

“That’s alright, Fog,” Karen said quickly. “You boys can play a game and the two of us can watch and chat. Right?”

“Oh, uh, yeah, sure,” you stammered out, confused about the way she was eyeing you while Foggy was staring intensely at the side of her head. “That–that sounds good.”

“Great!” Karen exclaimed as her hand released your shoulder and she slid her chair back. “Let’s go grab another table then.”

Brows furrowed together, you carefully pushed your chair back and rose to your feet along with everyone else. Reaching a hand out, you grabbed your drink from off the table before making your way around it. Though it didn’t escape your notice that Matt still seemed to be wearing a similar look of skepticism on his face. Clearly you weren’t the only one thinking the two seemed off tonight.

Silently you followed behind Karen as she picked out an empty table just beside the pool table and gracefully slid into the seat, sending you a friendly smile as she caught your eye. You returned the gesture, slowly slipping into the seat across from her as Foggy led Matt towards the pool table. Almost involuntarily your eyes flew over to Matt when you saw him set his drink down and begin rolling up his dress sleeves while you settled into your chair. You always did enjoy seeing his muscular forearms covered in those dark hairs, but unfortunately because it was December, he didn’t often roll them up. Though something above his head caught your eye as he was rolling up his left sleeve and you glanced up.

Eyes widening in surprise, you stared at the branch of mistletoe hanging directly above him. That was the last thing you’d have expected to find at Josie’s. She certainly didn’t seem like the type of woman who’d go hanging holiday decorations of any sort in her bar, let alone mistletoe . You were suddenly even more grateful that you’d decided not to play pool tonight so you wouldn’t have to avoid standing beneath it all night. 

“So,” Karen began, the conspiratorial lowering of her voice drawing your eye back to her as she leaned forward towards you, “there’s something I’ve been dying to know for awhile and we never really get a chance to chat as just us girls so I haven't had the opportunity to ask.”

Raising your beer bottle to your lips, you took a deep drink from it under the weight of Karen’s stare. You had a feeling you’d need the liquid courage for whatever question she was about to ask you. Swallowing the drink down, you soon cleared your throat, fighting to keep your gaze on Karen and not Matt as he let out a bark of laughter that had your stomach squirming. He always looked unbelievably handsome with a broad smile spread over his beautiful lips–a look you enjoyed seeing on him. It was difficult not to glance at the sight.

“What’s uh, what’s on your mind?” you asked hesitantly. 

Her dark pink lips curled ever higher as she leaned further forward, placing her elbows onto the table. Her head tilted a bit to the side, a few strands of blonde hair falling forward and framing her face. The angelic appearance wasn’t fooling you though and your stomach twisted nervously.

“Do you like Matt?” she asked bluntly.

It felt like your heart stopped as the sound of billiard balls clacking together on the nearby pool table rang through your ears. Your lips parted in surprise before you could mask your reaction. Despite the fact that you had a feeling she was going to ask you something along those lines, hearing the question aloud still startled you. Out of the corner of your eye, you swore you saw Matt’s head turn in the direction of your table. Though there was absolutely no way he could’ve overheard Karen with how quietly she’d asked the question, but that didn’t stop the heat from once again rising up your neck and reaching your face.

“Oh, well, of course,” you replied awkwardly, pushing a few strands of hair from your face as you focused on your beer bottle. “I like all of you. That's–that's why I'm always here hanging out with you three.”

Nervously glancing up from under your lashes, you saw Karen’s face twist into a look that clearly said that wasn't what she'd meant at all. You shot her a nervous smile, hoping she wouldn't push it. Though as you grabbed your bottle of beer and brought it to your lips for another pull, it was obvious she wasn't letting this go.

“I don't mean do you like Matt as a friend,” she clarified. “I meant are you interested in him? Romantically speaking?”

Nearly choking as you swallowed your drink, you covered your mouth as you coughed into your hand. You weren't getting out of answering this apparently. It didn't help that it seemed both Foggy and Matt were glancing at your table as you sputtered on the beer, both of them shooting you curious and questioning looks. Across the table, Karen continued to smile innocently back at you as she waited for you to recover.

A few moments later you did, trying to wipe your now clammy hands on the thighs of your dress pants. Your eyes dropped down to the sticky wooden table as you thought about how to answer. Surely she wouldn't believe you if you said no considering the knowing look she was currently giving you. And if you answered truthfully but quietly there was no way Matt should be able to overhear the conversation at least. Right?

At the thought of him, your eyes nervously darted over to the pool table. Matt was lining up a shot, bent in half over the table and angling the cue in his hands.

“It's sort of hard not to like him like that,” you replied softly, eyes still lingering on him. “I mean he's…sweet. And funny. And incredibly smart and self-assured. Confident. Obviously very handsome. But I mean he's…”

Your voice trailed off, your attention still on Matt as he remained bent over the pool table. Brows lightly furrowing, it seemed like he was taking longer than usual to make his shot. A glance at Foggy beside him had you thinking he'd noticed it, too. Briefly you wondered what he was doing until Karen’s voice broke through your thoughts. 

“He's what?” she pressed. 

Sighing, your attention returned to your almost empty bottle of beer. Unclasping a hand from your lap, you reached out and grabbed the neck of the bottle. You shrugged lightly, unable to meet her gaze.

“Too far out of my league,” you muttered. 

Drawing the bottle up to your lips, you finished the last of the beer. As you lowered the empty bottle back to the table, swallowing down your drink, you spotted Karen shooting Foggy a look. You couldn't possibly have been imagining it now, clearly they were up to something. But before you could figure out what, Karen spun back around in her seat and shot you a bright smile.

“Look at that, you already finished your drink. How about I get the next round of drinks before we continue this conversation?” she offered.

She quickly pushed her chair back before you could reply, her attention focusing on Matt and Foggy. Eyebrows drawing together, a nervous feeling swirled in your stomach, mingling with the alcohol. 

“You boys need another round of beers?” Karen called over to them. “On me this time, in honor of our win earlier today?”

Matt's head tilted a bit to the side as he focused on her. “Oh, I don't–”

“Of course!” Foggy exclaimed loudly, cutting Matt off as he clapped him on the shoulder. “And you know what? I'll come with and help you grab them.”

Before you even knew what was happening, Foggy was waving you over enthusiastically with a hand. That nervous feeling only grew in your stomach when Karen turned, glancing over her shoulder at you with that bright smile that was clearly meant to be hiding something as Foggy called out your name. 

“Why don’t you come keep Matt company?” Foggy suggested. “And you know, make sure he doesn't cheat to win this game while I'm gone.”

Matt audibly scoffed, shaking his head and countering the accusation immediately. But you weren't paying too much attention to their playful banter as you awkwardly rose to your feet and began making your way over towards Matt. Instead, your eyes were occasionally darting up and eyeing that damn bit of mistletoe that Matt was once again standing directly beneath. Which was why you intentionally came to a stop at the corner of the pool table, trying to keep some distance between you, Matt, and that little bit of mistletoe. 

Though what you hadn't accounted for was Karen stumbling in her heels behind you and accidentally bumping into you, pushing you the few steps forward where you tripped directly into Matt. His hands swiftly darted out and grabbed onto your upper arms, steadying you as you tried to catch your balance. And when you finally did, you abruptly realized your own hands had flown to Matt’s very firm, solid chest to stop your fall. Your face flamed from embarrassment and you quickly withdrew them from him, crossing them over your chest awkwardly. But Matt's hands remained on your arms, keeping you close as the warmth of them seeped through the sleeves of your blouse.

“I am so sorry,” Karen suddenly began apologizing behind you. “My heel must've caught on something along the floor. I didn't mean to do that!”

“It's alright,” you replied, your face still burning as you gazed at the handsome face before you. “But uh, sorry for accidentally running into you, Matt.”

His hands slowly began to release their hold on you, that charming smile returning to his face as he remained focused on you. With how close you were standing to him, you could feel your heart slamming harder in your chest. He was just so unfairly attractive.

“Don't worry about it, sweetheart,” he assured you. 

For a moment you stood there staring back at Matt's smiling face, almost feeling mesmerized by the expression on it. But a loud gasp from just beside Matt broke you out of your staring and caused you to glance over his shoulder at Foggy. Your pulse jumped when you caught him pointing a finger at the mistletoe hanging directly above Matt and yourself. Before you had a chance to move, finally remembering that you'd been trying to avoid the damn thing, the words were already coming out of his mouth.

“It appears you and Matt have found yourself beneath some mistletoe!” Foggy exclaimed. 

Before you, Matt's head cocked to the side as his brows drew beneath his dark lenses. For some reason the smile on his face only grew wider as his covered gaze remained fixed on you.

“We have?” Matt asked curiously. 

“Oh, yes!” Karen added from your other side, pointing a finger up at the branch hanging from the ceiling. “Foggy’s right!”

A light laugh slipped out of Matt, the warmth of it raising goosebumps along your arms as you felt rooted to the spot in front of him. You weren't sure if you should move or not; whether you should attempt to run away and come up with some excuse as to why he didn't need to kiss you. But it didn't help that part of you was hoping he'd somehow want to kiss you.

“I find it quite interesting that our dear Josie would put up mistletoe in her bar,” Matt mused aloud. “She doesn't seem the type.”

“Well either way,” Foggy cut in with an awkward laugh, “it's there! And you're both standing beneath it! So you know what that means! I mean it is tradition after all.”

Eyes growing wide, you openly gaped at Foggy and Karen as she came to stand beside him, a glint of something reflecting back at you in her eyes. Your lips parted as a rush of questions raced through your mind. Had they been the ones to put up the mistletoe? Were they doing it to get you and Matt to kiss? And if that was why they'd been acting so strange tonight– why ? Why would they want you two to kiss?

The sound of Matt clearing his throat brought you back to the moment. Your mouth was still hanging open as you focused back on him, noticing the almost nervous smile now spread on his face. Why did he look nervous?

“Fog uh…has a point,” Matt said, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. “It is tradition for two people to kiss underneath mistletoe.”

You could feel your pulse jumping in your throat at his words as behind him you noticed Foggy and Karen quietly making their way over to the bar, leaving you alone with Matt. As your gaze fell back on him before you, your mouth opened and closed a few times while you struggled to form a coherent sentence until one suddenly blurted out of you. 

“You want to kiss me?”

Your eyes instantly grew somehow wider at the question, your hand flying over your mouth to keep any further stupid thoughts from coming out of it. An adorable grin tugged at Matt's lips at your question, a small chuckle slipping out of him. Behind your hand, your teeth clamped down onto your bottom lip in sheer embarrassment. 

“Well, if we're being honest,” Matt began, one hand readjusting the glasses on his nose, “then I should admit I've wanted to kiss you for weeks now. The mistletoe is just…oddly convenient.”

Swallowing hard, you tried to control your breathing which had begun to come in shallower at his confession. He'd wanted to kiss you for weeks now? That fact had your heart hammering heavily in your chest as nerves raced through your body. You could feel your stomach flipping anxiously as you stood there entirely unsure how to respond. 

“But we uh, we certainly don't have to,” Matt said slowly, breaking the silence that had fallen between the pair of you. “I don't want to make you uncomfortable and ruin things between us.”

Feeling your opportunity to let him know how you felt slipping away, your hand flew from your mouth, hovering in the air between the pair of you as a loud ‘no!’ flew from your lips. The way Matt tilted his head at you, his brows rising up on his forehead as that grin returned to his face, had your cheeks once more burning tonight. But you couldn't let this moment slip past your fingers, not with how long you'd been thinking about it. 

“I'd like to,” you admitted awkwardly. “I mean I–I’ve wanted to–to kiss you, too.” You paused when the grin on his face grew wider, your stomach somersaulting at the sight. “Because I…I kind of have a crush on you…”

“Yeah?” he asked, head still canted to the side. “That's fortunate for me since I have a crush on you.”

“Seriously?” you whispered in disbelief.

Matt nodded, that boyish and charming grin growing ever wider on his lips. The lips you suddenly couldn't seem to take your eyes off of.

“Mhmm,” he hummed out. 

“I never knew…” you murmured, voice trailing off.

As you stood there trying to wrap your head around what he'd told you, Matt took a step closer towards you, closing the small bit of space. He reached around you, his arm almost grazing yours as he leant his pool cue up against the table. 

“So about that mistletoe,” Matt mused, lightly placing his hands on your upper arms again as he leaned towards you, causing your heart to skip. “We should…probably kiss, right?”

Your eyelids fluttered as you stared back at him, your breath catching in your throat with every inch he seemed to be drawing nearer to you. It was taking your brain far too long to comprehend what was happening, let alone to form much of a response besides the quiet ‘yes’ that slipped out of you. 

Matt's right hand released your arm and instead came up to cup your cheek. Gingerly he tilted your head, bringing your mouth in towards his as he finally closed the last remaining distance between the pair of you. The moment his lips touched yours, your eyes snapped shut.

At first his lips merely brushed against yours in a warm, gentle graze. The feeling sent a rush of excitement through your entire body as your hands flew up, gripping both of his muscular arms to steady yourself. He pulled back only a fraction from you before your lips were chasing after his, desperate for more than that soft, teasing touch.

He obliged instantly as if he knew–or had maybe heard the faint whimper of protest you'd made–and dove back forward again, connecting his mouth to yours with a bit more tenacity than before. His hand cupping your cheek held you more firmly to him as his plush lips passionately moved against yours in a way that left you gasping for air in the brief moments your mouths parted before inevitably connecting again. 

For a while neither of you seemed able to tear yourself away from the other, entirely oblivious to the entire bar around the pair of you. Your fingers had curled around the fabric of his dress shirt, gripping tight as you tried to hold yourself up. It felt like you were losing yourself entirely in Matt the longer the pair of you kissed and if you let go, you were afraid you might actually lose your balance.

Which was why it took you a minute to regain your composure when Matt finally broke the kiss. He only moved back a few inches from your face, his warm breath brushing gently over your lips as they remained parted. It was a moment before your eyelids fluttered open, taking in the sight of his smiling face before you. His lips seemed pinker as they glistened with both your saliva, the thought of which had a heat building low inside of you.  

“Can I maybe walk you home tonight?” he whispered. 

“Yes,” you replied automatically.

“And can I take you to dinner on Friday night?” he asked next. “Would that be alright?”

You nodded slowly, your eyes focused on his beautiful mouth. “Yes,” you whispered back. 

Matt's smile grew a little wider as his thumb brushed along your cheekbone. Your whole body felt like it was trembling now, your legs fighting not to give out beneath you. Your hands tightened further on his dress shirt, wrinkling the material. 

“And can I kiss you again?” he questioned.

You nodded again, this time more enthusiastically. “Please,” you breathed out. 

An amused chuckle slipped out of him as he leaned forward towards you once more. Out of the corner of your eye, just before you'd closed them again, you swore you saw Karen and Foggy exchanging a high five at the bar. But you forgot about that the moment Matt's lips were back on yours, kissing you more fervently than before as he backed you up against the pool table behind you.