#he’s not living here rent free anymore

[bbnibini]

I wonder if it's a design choice or the devs themselves can't make up their mind, but why did Solomon's eye colour "change" in NB? The chibi sprites in the OG show his eyes are shades of grey to brown/almost gold-bronze.

The NB chibi sprite shows his eyes to be dark blue and brownish-gold.

Don't even get me started with the cards and merch that can't make up his effing eye colour

To my Solobesties (I'm calling Solomon stans this now. I think we formed a strange kinship after lesson 17 even if we never interact lmao), especially artist solobesties, hats off to you and your service to the community.

My personal HC is kinda a spoiler for uhhhh something I'm writing, but here it is:

"It's just…your eyes are like you: I can't figure them out." "MC, I-" "No! No! Solomon, I'm sorry! No…it's not like that, I promise! Look at me, won't you? Please look at me." So he did. His eyes trembled as he met with yours. How could he have hidden this part of himself for this long? How could you not notice? How could you forget? How could Father be so cruel to him and you for simply existing? You traced the corner of his lips with your thumb as you held him by the cheek. He was leaning onto your right hand, unable to maintain his gaze. He was surprisingly bashful. Adorably shy without his facades. But he looked like he would crumble even with a gentle word so you did not say anything. He looked at you expectantly, then looked away as your gaze burned onto him for too long and muttered, "You can't figure me out?"in almost a whisper, after a long-drawn out silence, weighing in his words, watching your expressions and body language. Afraid, so deathly afraid. You smiled. "It's like I'm looking at a mirror. Sometimes it's silver, sometimes it's midnight. When you look at the world around you and then look back at me, I feel like you've captured the sky and the oceans in your eyes. It's beautiful." His face was red all over, even to the tips of his ears. It was such a shame. You haven't even said everything you wanted to say to him yet. That he was the moon and the stars to your daytime; gold and silver gazes, looking after you from afar in the many branches of realities he couldn't be as honest with you as he was now. Ah. What will you do without him now? How can you give this up after remembering everything? You knew it was selfish, but you love him. Both of him. Every part of him just as much as he loved you and every part of you that existed. But now, you had to say goodbye. Again. How truly unfair.

[forcedhesitation]

exhalted vampeeric maaastah

[deus-ex-mona]

i j u st. want my funny idols jrpg back p ls—

[livingthedragonlife]

this whole chapter lives rent free in my head, but something about this exchange just... especially lives there

he fantasized about monsters attacking a village when he was a child (and it's heavily implied that he still does). maybe he imagined them attacking his village, attacking everyone who shunned falin and treated her so poorly he left because he couldn't take it anymore. he fantasizes about monsters attacking a village because people cast them both aside for being strange. if they got attacked, they would all surely die, and all of a sudden wish that they'd been kinder to laios and falin.

i really don't feel like this is strictly a revenge fantasy, though. i'm sure that's part of it, but he looks ashamed here, or at the very least embarrassed to be called out on it.

monsters attacking a village would suddenly make them both "useful" to these people. his knowledge and falin's power would become things that people respect, they wouldn't be outcasts anymore. especially for a child, that's really the best case scenario. the thing that would "make you useful" appears and you get to save the day. you get to be loved, you get people's attention, you get their celebration instead of their disgust.

i really don't think laios hates people, or at least not ALL people. he hates how people have treated him and his loved ones. he hates that being who he is makes him strange. he wants to be a monster so badly because that's how people have treated him all his life—something to be reviled and cast out.

at least if he were the coolest monster in the world, nobody would ever be able to treat him or falin poorly and get away with it

[erinaeris]

Laios Touden and the Responsibility of Power

First off, let me gush just a bit about how fucking STRONK this man is. Olympic weightlifters are dying of sheer envy and lust over this man. He is a FUCKING POWERHOUSE.

My favorite panels ever, and judging by the cropping of the second photo, Tumblr agrees.

AHEM, where was I?

Ah yes. He's not just strong and incredibly hot, my man is literally an invasive species in this dungeon. He knows every single weak spot of every monster Thistle tried to throw at him and when he finds it he just fucking RAMS HIMSELF AT THEM AND TAKES THEM DOWN.

And when he's a dwarf HE LITERALLY BENDS STEEL.

"Beat Namari at arm wrestling"? My boy, she wouldn't let you anywhere near because you'd FUCKING BREAK HER HER HAND ALONG WITH THE TABLE. (It's such a fucking shame we didn't see Senshi at least raising an (perfectly plucked except it just grows that way naturally) eyebrow in the background when he sees this. Alas, he was too distracted by his hair.)

But I mentioned responsibility, didn't I? Strength is power in the dungeon, and we all knows what comes with great power. And Laios is, in fact, very responsible with that power!

(Futther examples under the cut, wee bit spoilers for anime watchers)

This scene lives rent-free in my head forever, because of two things: Thistle suddenly realizing just what the hell he's up against,

And Laios breaking Thistle's arm.

Now, I think Laios didn't mean to actually break his arm here, he's just half-blind and dizzy and knows he has to restrain Thistle or it will all go to shit. So that's what he does. The move you see above is a restraining hold. The point is that the person pinned down can't struggle much because the position of the arm presses the suprascapular nerve, so it hurts a lot, but unless they're held that way for too long they'll be fine.

But Thistle is TINY and elves are generally fine-boned. I think Laios really did just underestimate his strength.

And the moment the dragons aren't an IMMEDIATE THREAT anymore?

Laios heals him. Thistle's a better mage than him by miles, he could have done it himself. But no. Laios does it. He was too rough, too careless with his strength, and he immediately backtracked, fixed what he broke, and continued with more mindfullness.

And these are just the examples that stuck in my mind the most. And it happens often enough that the team isn't even fucking surprised! Laios' strength would 100% scare people who only saw him in a barfight and didn't know anything else about him. Hell, the other adventurers they meet fucking quiver before this guy who just took down a monster they had nightmares about in one blow, up until he opens his mouth and they relax. You put more malevolent software in that sort of hardware and he'd be the next Shadow Governor.

But Laios is Laios. He's a gentle soul at heart (a Great Pyrenese, specifically, the gentlest souls ever unless you're out for their flock) and he is VERY CAREFUL with his strength, ESPECIALLY around his team. Chilchuck, who is literally half his size and underfed to boot, can smack Laios as much as he wants with ZERO fear because Laios is aware he can hurt Chilchuck by literally tripping over him, so he just stays still and lets Chilchuck smack at him. I'd be surprised if he ever managed to leave a bruise. Chilchuck has to aim at Laios' weak spot (back of the knee here) just to get Laios to notice him!

But because I have some experience with marital arts and close combat, I think the fight with Shuro exemplifies my point so fucking well! Laios is HURT here, he's living every autistic person's worst nightmare.

And he HOLDS BACK. His restraint is fucking IMMACULATE.

Shuro is fucking lucky Laios still liked him when he started talking shit, because he would have broken his spine otherwise. Laios doesn't even take the fight seriously! He starts with a fucking SLAP.

Shuro retaliates with an actual punch (that does nothing but piss him off)

Laios wobbles. Shuro HITS THE DIRT.

And this is the part where he realizes just how outside his weight category he is. Shuro definitely has technique on his side, but that means jackshit when you need ten blows to to even bruise your opponent, but one hit from them will leave you drinking through a straw for a week. For a second there, Shuro thought he was in ACTUAL DANGER.

But instead of finishing the job, Laios tries to talk him down, which just sets him off again. Man was at his fucking LIMIT, and it snapped. Self-preservation who?

And the best part is? Shuro is throwing all his strength behind his punches and Laios just takes them, but Laios? He mostly pushed Shuro around!

They're mostly grappling here, precisely because Laios is very conscious his friend is pretty fragile right now.

And when he does have enough?

Shuro is flat on the ground again, and Laios has a black eye and a bloody nose. He sits down and five minutes later he's ready to go! Like yes, Shuro was at a low point here, but he's been mowing through monsters at only a bit slower pace than Laios' party. He's no weakling regardless. And Laios had to HOLD BACK SO HE WOULDN'T HURT HIM. And it's so obvious that Maizuru takes one look at the two of them and leaves them to their toussling.

When I saw her reaction I had to scroll back and take another look, because I was sure she would intervene! But she doesn't! She is aware of Laios' strength, she has to be, and she doesn't lift a finger to help her precious charge. She knows the big dog he's wrestling with knows to watch his strength.

And that's my whole point: my boi is STRONK AF! And he is very aware of his strength, and how he could hurt the people around him is he wasn't careful, so he is ALWAYS CAREFUL. He has deeply internalized the fact that to have strength is to be careful with it, to use it in service of people rather than to hurt them (possibly from his dad). He is going to SUCH a good king! He's not going to like the job but by GOD he will do it really well.

And I will give my right arm to see a fic about the first corrupt lord/governor/courtier who attempts to misuse their authority for their own gain. Kabru's gonna have to talk Laios out of an execution.

[hoshifighting]

𖧷 crybaby

— synopsis: seungcheol can’t help but be a crybaby every time you break his heart, yet he always comes running back to you, desperate for your attention. even when you leave him cold for days or push him away, he can’t seem to stay away. his friends and family don’t get it—they hate how you treat him.

— WC: 4.6k — WARNINGS: agnst, smut, emotionallly detached!reader, emotionally attached!seungcheol, crying, he kind of pisses his friends and family out because of his whiny ass, explicit language, blowjob, cock riding, clit stimulation, face slapping, choking. — inspired by: cry baby by megan thee stallion — ''his friends and his dad hate me, I broke his lil' heart, he's a crybaby"

seungcheol was such a fucking crybaby. like, how does a man that big, that beefy, built like he could crush a watermelon between his thighs, have the emotional resilience of a damp tissue? 5′10 of pure gym dedication and somehow, here he was, sulking like a kicked puppy in the corner of his own damn birthday party. honestly, you broke his heart so many times you’d lost count, but the man was like a boomerang—always came back. didn’t matter how hard you threw him.

his friends absolutely hated you. well, maybe hate was strong—more like they hated how he acted because of you. jeonghan said you lived rent-free in his head, which you knew was true. but the real kicker was his family. they couldn’t stand hearing your name. apparently, he cried into his whiskey glass over you at his last family dinner. like, straight-up sniffles and shaky voice in front of his dad. the boys’ nights weren’t any better; they’d barely crack open a soju bottle before seungcheol was teary-eyed, rambling about you like you were the love of his life and not the emotional hurricane you were.

but that’s the thing, though. seungcheol was built for family. the whole package—white picket fence, Sunday brunches, PTA meetings. meanwhile, you were emotionally unavailable as fuck. couldn’t even commit to a favorite boba flavor, let alone a relationship. and now, you’d ghosted him for a week. a whole-ass week. no texts, no calls, not even the stupid memes you usually sent him at 3 a.m.

today was his birthday. his fucking birthday.

the party at his place was in full swing—laughter, good food, good drinks, jeonghan and mingyu lowkey roasting him about his “girlfriend” (air quotes and all). his parents were there too, of course. his brother had even flown in. but cheol barely moved from the couch all night. just sat there, one arm slung over the backrest, looking at his phone like a guy waiting for a miracle.

because in his head, if you were his girlfriend—like, properly his—you’d be here. with him. celebrating, holding his hand, maybe sitting in his lap. but instead, he got radio silence.

“bro, seriously, what the fuck is your problem?” jeonghan hissed, leaning over the couch to snatch the beer from cheol’s hand. “your mom’s asking why you look like you’re about to cry into the birthday cake.”

“i’m fine,” cheol muttered, but even he didn’t sound convinced.

“no, you’re not. you’ve checked your phone like a hundred times, and it’s giving ‘sad loser.’ cut it out before mingyu makes a meme out of you.”

but cheol didn’t cut it out. he just stared at the screen, lips pulled into a pout so tragic it could’ve been a fucking Greek play. the hours dragged. one by one, people started leaving, and eventually, it wasn’t even his birthday anymore.

august 9th. 9:54 p.m.

cheol sighed, running a hand through his hair, looking like he was about to combust.

and then, his phone buzzed.

one message.

from: future girlfriend ❤️ - “come over.”

that’s it. two words, no explanation. cheol shot up from the couch so fast he nearly knocked over the coffee table.

jeonghan raised an eyebrow. “where the hell are you going?”

cheol didn’t answer. he was already grabbing his keys, muttering something about how he’d “she texted me.”

he hard his friend groan out in defeat, disappointment, some even surprised that seungcheol would leave his own party like that.

while you were still just chilling at your place, sitting there like nothing had happened, waiting to see if this man who you’d left on read for a week would actually show up.

spoiler alert—he would.

the door wasn’t even locked—like you’d left it wide open for him, knowing he’d come running the second you told him to. seungcheol stepped inside your apartment, and it was so you in a way that made his chest tighten. that familiar scent? god, it was everywhere. in the air, clinging to the couch, the walls, probably gonna soak into his clothes and stay there for days, torturing him. like you’d marked your territory without even trying.

he moved on autopilot, his feet carrying him down the hallway to your bedroom like he didn’t even need directions. the door was cracked open, and he froze for a second when he saw you.

you were standing there, slipping a sheer robe over your shoulders—transparent. and it wasn’t doing a damn thing to hide you. the way the fabric barely skimmed over your hips, nipples peeking through, leading his eyes all the way down to the hem that just teased your thighs… it was insane.

you turned your head slightly, catching him in the doorway like some kind of lost puppy. your expression was unreadable, but he looked at you like you were magic or something—eyes wide, lips slightly parted. pathetic.

you stepped toward him, and before he could even process it, his hands moved to your waist like they belonged there. your arms looped lazily around his neck, and the warmth of your skin had his breath hitching. you glanced over his shoulder at the clock on the wall—10:01 p.m.—then met his gaze, your lips curling.

“happy birthday… birthday boy,” you said, your voice smooth as velvet.

he exhaled shakily, his eyes fluttering shut like the sound of your voice was too much. his brows knit together in that pitiful little frown you’d missed more than you cared to admit.

“why’d you leave me like that?” he muttered, voice cracking slightly. “did… did i do something? i’m sorry, i—”

you didn’t answer, didn’t even flinch, because honestly? you didn’t have a reason. there was no deep, dark explanation, no hidden agenda. you just did.

instead, you pushed him backward toward the bed, your hands firm on his chest. he stumbled slightly but kept talking, his voice climbing higher in pitch.

“please, just—just tell me. what did i do? i can fix it, i swear, just—”

you pushed him harder this time, and he landed on the bed with a bounce. he stared up at you, eyes glassy, lips trembling. “answer me,” he whined, his voice soft and desperate.

“shhh,” you hushed, pressing a finger to his lips.

he whimpered at the touch, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “why—why won’t you just—”

your hand came down on his cheek in a sharp slap. not too hard, but enough to make him moan, his mouth falling open in a perfect little “o.”

“quiet,” you said firmly, watching as his expression shifted. the sting seemed to zap the fight out of him, his mouth closing into a pout as his tears spilled over.

“aww,” you cooed, leaning down to brush your thumb under his eye. “don’t cry, birthday boy. let me give you a gift.”

his gaze flickered immesiately. a gift? he nodded eagerly.

“you gonna be good for me?” you asked, tilting your head.

“y-yeah,” he stammered, his voice so small it made you smile.

your hands moving to his belt. the way he watched you, like you were about to destroy his dignity, was almost comical.

you tugged his pants and underwear down in with a graceful sweep, leaving him bare and exposed. his cock was already rock hard, flushed red and leaking precum that smeared against his stomach.

“look at you,” you teased, wrapping a hand around the base. his breath hitched at the contact, his hips jerking slightly. “crying all over yourself, huh?”

he let out a choked whimper, his hands fisting the sheets beside him. “i—i can’t help it,” he whispered.

“poor baby,” you mocked, your thumb swiping over the tip to collect the sticky wetness. his whole body twitched at the motion, his eyes squeezing shut as more tears slipped down his cheeks.

you leaned down, letting your lips hover just above him. “you’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you? never let you have it before, but tonight… you’re special.”

he nodded frantically, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps. “please,” he begged, his voice breaking.

you smiled, finally taking him into your mouth. the heat and wetness made him sob outright, his hands flying to your hair but stopping short—like he was scared to touch you without permission.

“oh—fuck, fuck, fuck,” he babbled, his thighs trembling as you worked him over. your tongue dragged along the veins as your hand played with his balls, and he keened, his head falling back against the pillows.

“so good,” he choked out, tears streaming down his face. “m-missed you.”

you hummed around him, and the vibrations nearly sent him over the edge. his whole body tensed, his hips bucking slightly as he moaned your name.

“gonna be good for me?” you asked, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze.

“y-yes,” he stammered, his eyes glassy and desperate. “so good, i’ll be so good, please—”

“then take it,” you said, and he did.

your tongue swirled around the swollen tip of his cock, drawing a shuddering breath out of him that turned into a whimper when you pulled back slightly, letting a string of spit connect your lips to his flushed skin. his chest heaved, his abs clenching under the weight of your stare.

you fold your tongue up and slid along the underside of his length, like you had all the time in the world. his thighs trembled as you worked your way down, your nails scratching lightly along the sides of his hips, keeping him still. by the time you reached his base, his whole body was taut, his hands fisted so tightly into the sheets you thought he might rip them.

“you’re so sensitive,” you murmured, letting your breath ghost over his skin.

“i can’t—” he choked, cutting himself off with a high-pitched moan when your tongue flicked over the soft skin of his balls.

you smiled against him, pressing a kiss to one of the heavy globes before taking it into your mouth, sucking gently. his hips jerked off the bed, but your hand pressed firmly against his stomach, pinning him down.

“stay still,” you ordered.

“i’m trying—fuck, i’m trying,” he babbled, his voice cracking. his head lolled to the side, his lips parted in a silent cry as you continued to suck and lick at him, your tongue tracing slow, wet circles.

your free hand moved back to his cock, wrapping around the shaft and stroking it slowly, your thumb smearing the precum that was steadily leaking from the tip.

“look at me,” you said, your voice softer this time.

his eyes fluttered open, glassy and red-rimmed, his gaze locking onto yours. the sight of you, lips wrapped around him, your hand working him in tandem, had him letting out a desperate, broken sound that went straight to your core.

“you like this?” you asked, pulling back slightly, your hand still stroking him as you kissed along his inner thigh.

“yes,” he gasped, his voice barely above a whisper. “fuck, yes. feels so good.”

“yeah?” you teased, your lips quirking into a smirk as you nipped at his skin. “you’ve been waiting for this? waiting for me to touch you like this?”

he nodded frantically, “always,” he admitted. “always wanted you like this. please don’t stop.”

you purred, letting your tongue glide back up to his base before taking him into your mouth again, this time deeper, letting him feel the heat of your throat. “fuck—oh my god,” he sobbed, his hands twitching at his sides, like he wanted to touch you but didn’t dare.

“go on,” you encouraged, pulling off just enough to speak. “touch me. you’re being good, aren’t you?”

his hands immediately flew to your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands as he let out another choked moan. “yes,” he breathed, “yes, so good, i’ll be so good for you.”

you hollowed your cheeks, bobbing your head slowly, your hand working in time with your movements. his thighs shook beneath you, his breath hitching every time your tongue pressed against the sensitive vein running along the underside of his cock.

“you’re so fucking pretty like this,” you said, pulling back just enough to let your spit-coated hand continue stroking him. “all flushed and crying for me. does it feel that good?”

“so good!” he gasped, tears spilling over again as he bucked his hips involuntarily.

you hummed in approval, your tongue flicking over the tip before dipping lower again, taking one of his balls into your mouth once more. the way his entire body shook beneath you, his voice breaking into desperate little cries—it was everything.

“you’re mine,” you murmured, your voice muffled against his skin. “aren’t you?”

“yours!” he sobbed, his voice cracking. “all yours...”

you pulled back, your lips slick with spit and precum, watching as seungcheol’s chest heaved like he’d just run a marathon. his head was tilted back against the pillows, mouth slightly open, a trail of drool glistening at the corner of his lips. his cock twitched in your hand, still throbbing and leaking like it couldn’t survive a second without you.

“cheol,” you said, your voice sharp enough to cut through the haze.

he didn’t answer. his eyes were half-lidded, rolling back as another pathetic whimper slipped past his lips.

“yah,” you hissed, your free hand moving down to cup his balls, squeezing them just enough to snap him out of it.

he jerked, his hips twitching as a choked cry tore from his throat. his wide, glassy eyes met yours, full of confusion, like he wasn’t sure whether to apologize or beg for more.

“you listening now?” you asked, your tone playful but firm.

“y-yeah,” he stammered.

you smirked, leaning forward just enough to let your breath fan over his cock. “good. now, tell me—do you want me to make you cum like this?” your hand gave his length a slow, deliberate stroke, watching as his eyes fluttered shut again. “or do you want me to ride you?”

his eyes snapped open at the second option, but he still didn’t answer. his mouth opened and closed like he was trying to speak but couldn’t get the words out, and you swore he looked like a little kid trying to pick between candy flavors.

“cheol,” you said again, your grip on his balls tightening just enough to make him yelp. “i’m not giving you both, so choose. now.”

he whimpered, his lower lip trembling as he looked at you like you were some kind of goddess and he didn’t want to disappoint.

“i—i want…” he trailed off, his voice cracking as his cock twitched in your hand again.

“come on,” you urged. “use your words, birthday boy.”

his cheeks flushed deeper, and he swallowed hard before finally stammering out, “i want you to ride me.”

“do you?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as your hand gave him one last teasing stroke.

“mhmm,” he breathed, his voice shaky but certain. “please. want to feel you. need to—need to be close to you.”

you smiled, your chest swelling. “good boy,” you murmured, releasing him completely and watching as he whimpered at the cut-off.

you climbed onto the bed, straddling his hips as his hands immediately flew to your thighs, gripping them like he was scared you’d disappear—again. the way his eyes roamed over your body, taking in every inch of exposed skin through the transparency of the robe, and the big slit that have been created as the robe opened up, made you feel like you were the only thing that mattered in the world.

you reached between your legs, guiding his cock to your entrance, letting the tip tease your folds just enough to have him squirming beneath you.

“mm..fuck” he groaned, his head falling back against the pillows. “you’re so wet. is that—fuck, is that for me?”

“all for you,” you lied, he knew you were mocking him as you slowly sank down onto him.

the stretch was so good, never fails to make you arch your back, his cock filled you so perfectly had your breath hitching. but the sound he made was way down pathetic. it was half moan, half sob, like he couldn’t believe this was real.

“oh my god,” he choked, his hands flying to your waist as his hips jerked involuntarily. “you’re so—so tight. best birthday gift ever.”

you rolled your hips slowly, letting him feel every inch of your gummy walls, and his grip tightened, you can feel his strong fingers marking your meat.

“you like being used like this?”

“yes!” he gasped, his voice high and broken. “love it. love you.”

you froze for half a second, the words catching you off guard, but you quickly recovered, your lips curling into a smirk. “that so?”

“yeah,” he breathed, his eyes squeezing shut as you started to move again. “fuck, i love you. love everything about you.”

every roll of your hips, pulled more sounds from him than you thought possible—moans, gasps, sobs, all spilling from his lips like a declaration.

your hips moved in a steady rhythm, dragging his cock in and out of you in a way that made your thighs burn, but the way seungcheol looked at you—like you were the fucking universe—made it impossible to stop. you clenched around him, squeezing tightly, and his mouth fell open, a strained whimper spilling out as his fingers dug into your hips as you rocked your pussy back and forth.

you pushed his shirt up higher, your eyes falling on his chest, where his nipples were flushed a deep red against his tan skin. his brows furrowed in confusion when he noticed your gaze.

“what?” he asked, his voice hoarse and breathless.

“you don’t even know, do you?” you teased, your nails trailing up his chest. “how red they get when you’re about to cum?”

“what?” he repeated, his tone higher this time, all embarassed.

“oh, baby,” you cooed, leaning down to brush your lips against his. “you’re so fucking cute.”

his face flushed even deeper, and you felt his cock twitch inside you as your hands wrapped around his neck. his eyes widened immediately, his breath hitching as he stared up at you, his lips parted in surprise.

“you like this?” you asked, your grip tightening just enough to make his pulse race beneath your fingers.

he let out a strangled moan, his hands flying up to your thighs like he didn’t know whether to stop you or hold on tighter. “y-yeah,” he stammered, his voice cracking. “fuck, yeah.”

“then be good for me, cum for me, cheol. now.”

his entire body tensed, his hips jerking up. you clenched around him again, your grip on his neck firm as you ground down harder as the first waves of your orgasm hit you.

you raised your hips just in time, letting his cock slip out of you as he spilled all over his stomach, ropes of cum painting his skin. his head fell back against the pillows, his chest heaving as he let out a broken sob, his hands trembling against your thighs.

you collapsed onto his chest, your hand moving between your legs to circle your clit frantically, your moans muffled against his ear as you chased the last remnants of your own orgasm.

“oh my fucking god...” you panted, your fingers working faster as your hips ground against his thigh.

he turned his head slightly, his eyes hazy as he watched you, his lips parted in awe. “you’re…so beautiful...”

you moaned loudly as your orgasm hit you, your body shaking against his as you buried your face in his neck, your hand slowing to a stop.

as the high ebbed away, your body melted into his, your limbs heavy and your breath evening out. you let your full weight settle on him, and he groaned softly, the sound less of discomfort and more of deep, satisfied contentment. his arms came around you instinctively, holding you close, his hands splayed wide against your back like he never wanted to let go.

you lay there, your cheek pressed to his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your ear. you tried to ignore how your own heart raced, guilt creeping in as you replayed the last week in your head.

sometimes, you really felt like shit about the way you treated him. seungcheol was too good for you, with that big heart of his—always giving, always forgiving. the problem wasn’t him. it was you.

you hoped he couldn’t feel the way your heart thudded against his chest, the weight of your remorse making it beat faster.

you lifted your head slightly, pressing soft kisses to his cheek, your fingers tangling in his hair as you gently scratched at his scalp. he sighed, leaning into your touch like it was the only thing keeping him tethered.

“cheol,” you murmured, your voice softer than you planned. “can i give you one more gift tonight?”

he didn’t answer right away. his eyes drifted to the ceiling, a small, thoughtful smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“only one?” he asked after a moment.

you hummed, matching his teasing tone. “yeah. just one. better make it count, birthday boy.”

he chuckled softly, but it didn’t reach his eyes. instead, his gaze stayed fixed on the ceiling, his fingers tracing absent patterns on your back.

“i don’t think you can give me what i really want...” he said finally.

you tilted your head, your brows furrowing. “what do you mean?”

he hesitated before he turned his head to look at you, his eyes searching yours.

“i want to be here with you... but knowing that you… that you actually like me back.”

he held your gaze, his eyes raw and vulnerable, waiting for a response that you didn’t know how to give.

“cheol, you know that right now i—” you started, your voice cracking.

but he shook his head, his lips curving into a small, sad smile. “it’s okay,” he said quickly, though the way his arms tightened around you betrayed his words. “i didn’t mean to ruin the moment. i just… i had to say it.”

you didn’t know what to say. guilt churned in your stomach, your heart pounding against his chest as his words echoed in your head.

he deserved so much more than you could give, and yet here he was, holding you like you were his whole world.

seungcheol let out a shaky breath, his thumb brushing absentmindedly against the curve of your spine. “but since that won’t happen…” he trailed off, his voice wistful.

your chest tightened, the words striking a nerve you weren’t ready to deal with. you stayed silent, pressing your cheek against his shoulder, hoping he couldn’t see the way your brows knitted together.

“can you…” he hesitated, his fingers twitching against your skin. “can you come to my birthday party tonight? i know it’s late, but it’s probably still going. i’d love to see you there.”

you froze. you knew what he was asking—he wanted you to show up for him, to step into his world, even if it made you uncomfortable.

“cheol,” you said slowly, lifting your head to look at him. his expression was expectant.

“please,” he added, whispering in an almost pityful way. “just for a little while. it’s my birthday.”

you bit your lip, glancing away. the idea of walking into a room full of people who probably hated you wasn’t exactly appealing, but the way he looked at you, made it hard to say no.

“fine,” you muttered, avoiding his gaze.

“really?” he asked, his face lighting up instantly.

“yeah, really,” you said, rolling your eyes.

he sat up, pulling you with him.

you groaned, pushing against his chest. “ugh, fine. let me get ready, then.”

he followed you into the bathroom like a puppy, leaning against the doorway as you washed your face and fixed your hair. his gaze was soft, trailing over you like he was memorizing every detail.

“stop staring,” you said, your tone sharp but lacking any real bite.

“can’t help it,” he replied, his voice warm. “you’re gorgeous.”

you rolled your eyes again, but your cheeks flushed anyway, and you hated how easily he got to you.

“you should get ready too,” you said, pointing at him with a toothbrush in hand.

“i’m fine like this,” he said with a shrug, gesturing to his wrinkled shirt and jeans.

“you’re not showing up to your own party looking like you just got laid,” you shot back, smirking when his ears turned red.

“fine,” he grumbled, shuffling off.

by the time you were both dressed and ready, the nerves in your stomach were in full swing. seungcheol, however, looked ridiculously pleased with himself, his hand finding yours as he led you toward the door.

seungcheol practically vibrated with happiness as he led you up to the front door of his house. he tried so damn hard to play it cool, to keep his steps measured and his grin from stretching too wide. but his chest felt like it might burst at any moment, the thought of walking in with you by his side enough to make him wanna jump like some kind of elf in a fairytale.

this was it. you were here. about to meet his family, his friends. his whole world.

he took a deep breath and opened the door, immediately met with a chorus of voices.

“finally!” jeonghan shouted, throwing his arms up like he’d been waiting for years.

“where the hell have you been?” his brother added exasperatedly.

seungcheol pressed his lips together, holding back a smile as he glanced over his shoulder at you. “i, uh…” he rubbed the back of his neck, glancing down for a second before looking back up, his voice soft but proud. “i needed to bring someone special before the ‘happy birthday.’”

the room fell silent as you stepped out from behind him, your hands clutching the straps of your bag like a lifeline. your small, tentative smile was enough to stop everyone in their tracks.

you shifted awkwardly under the weight of their stares, the sound of the music thumping softly in the background the only thing filling the silence.

and that’s when it hit them.

oh.

this was the reason seungcheol had been acting so out of character, the reason he’d been spiraling for months. you weren’t just some girl he was into. no, you were a fucking vision. gorgeous in a way that made the room seem brighter. mesmerizing without even trying.

now they understood. now it all made sense.

of course he was crazy over you. of course he’d been spiraling. who wouldn’t be?

but the realization also came with a quieter, more awkward truth: this was the girl they’d all cursed out in private. the girl they’d ranted about after every drunken night where seungcheol had cried into his beer or disappeared to avoid them.

they exchanged quick glances. yeah, they got it now, but it didn’t erase the fact that they’d judged you before even meeting you.

a nagging question none of them dared to voice but couldn’t shake.

were you really worth it?

jeonghan, the one who never held his tongue, raised a brow and smirked. “well, shit. now i get it.”

seungcheol’s face flushed a deep red, his hand instinctively finding the small of your back as if to shield you from the inevitable onslaught of teasing.

but instead of cracking a joke, jeonghan just smiled and nodded, his eyes softening. “welcome,” he said, his voice genuine.

the others slowly followed suit, their smiles tentative but warm as they tried to mask their lingering curiosity.

and as seungcheol led you further into the house, his hand never leaving your back, he felt like he’d just won the lottery. because for the first time in a long time, he wasn’t walking into this house feeling defeated or embarrassed.

this time, he was walking in with you.

© 2024 Hoshi Fighting | All Rights Reserved

[mygnolia]

get better! | p. sunghoon

SMAU! synopsis -› in which your neighbor and popular twitch streamer park sunghoon breaks his arm, so he switches to vlog style content that matches up with your’s! now everyone’s curious why 1) you have a cute boy in your apartment, 2) sunghoon’s not on his grind anymore, and 3) when are you two going to date!?

pair -› twitch streamer!sunghoon x vlogger!reader

includes -› fluff, humor/comedy, romance!!

trope -› strangers/acquaintances to lovers

cw -› cursing, i am chronically online so my humor is broken, i also don't know how to navigate twitter so forgive the inconsistent times or details, more to be added!

a/n -› guys i literally have never written an smau before. HELP??? it's been in my drafts since 2022 and now i finally wanna make it, plsplspls tell me if i seem like im plagarizing and i'll share proof + explanations! I have not been on enha tumblr in years but ik there's trope overlaps here and there!! super excited doe

TAGLIST OPEN! (send an ask, dm, or comment on THIS post to be added!!) SLOW UPDATES!

PROFILES. |||

sesame road | y/n l/n, yang jungwon, kim sunoo, l. inka, t. amber

fortnite new szn in 2 dayz? | park sunghoon, lee heeseung, sim jaeyun, park jongseong, riki nishimura

HOONIEBEE IS LIVE.... "right arm brken :("

prologue: maeumi x 4 | new fortnight fortnite battle pass

nickname basis

fractured humerus or broken humor??

WITH Y/N RENT FREE JUST POSTED! meet my neighbor ig???

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stan twit not ready

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user omgilovesunghoonandiwanttomarryhim

delululand

is he 5'11 and has insane biceps

YAP CITY NEW EP OUT NOW! hooniebee, w/ y/n, and red flags!

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friends (relationship tba)

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YAP CITY NEW EP OUT NOW! hooniebee, w/ y/n, burning questions + special guests

togetherness

top ten worst among us betrayals

she said buy a star i said bet

thanks for watching!

MEDIA SPECIALS

jam with won pt 3 | Yang Jungwon

snooze acoustic cover - lee heeseung | HEESEUNG

how to make THE BEST 20 minute alfredo | cooking mama jay park

playing plat in silver lobbies | niki, jake

© all rights are reserved to mygnolia 2024. republished, translated, and/or heavily referenced work will be reported and removed immediately.

[always-just-red]

Hi!

Can I request a fic where the reader starts realizing they have feelings for Sylus and gets so nervous around him that they can’t resonate anymore?

And Sylus thinks that the reader is scared/disgusted by him again so the reader is forced to confess their feelings to not create a bigger misunderstanding

Thanks!

- 🌻

The moment I got this request I was like HELLO— sunflower anon, you just get me 😌 Anyway! Am back from my break and I hope everyone’s ready for some Vulnerable Sylus™️, because I have got him hot to go!!!

A Gentle Touch

Sylus x Reader 🩸

Summary: You really can’t let Sylus into your head this time— he’s living there rent-free already.

Genre: Angst + Fluff (& some Luke and Kieran shenanigans because they were not feeling the angst)

Warnings/Additional Tags: f!reader, injury detail, mentions of possible trauma, humour, some intimacy at the end 😘, Luke and Kieran are having the time of their lives

| Word count: 3.2k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

If you asked, Sylus would tell you.

You catch glimpses: dark, sharp flickers of something monstrous, maybe even infernal. Blood, everywhere— thick in your mouth and your nose. All over your hands. You feel it, too: a yearning, so intense, and you couldn’t say whom it belongs to. Then there’s death. Searing white. Bottomless black. In the middle of all of it— crimson eyes like dying stars.

Every time you resonate, it envelops you, is laid out bare before you: a nightmare you’re caught in the centre of but forced to watch from outside. An other, a spectator. It’s a show, just for you, but it isn’t quite ready yet; someone’s still rehearsing their lines.

If you asked, Sylus would let you see it. It’s a power you have over him, a constant, self-sacrificial: you want it? It’s yours. So you don’t ask. You never ask. Like words mumbled in a haze of wine or sleep, you let him hold onto it. His hands are open, yes, but you don’t have to take.  

Besides, you have your own, world-changing little secret, and he’s going to see it too.

He’s slumped in front of you, blood sheeting down from two bullet wounds just below his shoulder. He catches his breath— one, two— before he peeks over this desk you’ve overturned for cover. You should be peeking over as well: should be counting your enemies, scouting your next move.

Instead, you’re looking at him and holding back. One minute ago you had no idea where he was, how he was, and it’d been eating away at you from the moment you got separated. Now he’s with you— he found you— and the relief is desperate, gushing; it has to escape somehow. It drips: forbidden daydreams, one after the other, like…

How you want to hold his face and urge him to speak so you can just hear his voice.

How you want to press a hand to his heart and feel the beat of it beneath your palm.

How you want to kiss him, want to taste the blood on his split lip, because this is your story, isn’t it? Messy. Violent. Defiant.

He looks at you, that same blood carving a thin line through the pale of his chin. It drops down onto his silk shirt. “What are you thinking about, kitten?” he grins. His best guess: “This is a fine mess we’ve gotten ourselves into, hmm?”

It’s a fine mess he got you into. “Yeah.” You make yourself look away from him, glancing over the desk to assess how much worse the situation is getting. The answer? Significantly. 

Sylus chuckles, drawing your eyes back as he reloads his gun. “Don’t say I never treat you to anything, sweetie.” He fires a few rounds towards the encroaching danger.

Voices go up across the room. Gunshots ring out, louder. Sylus slinks back down, wincing, holding his shoulder, and his fingers turn red. He deftly undoes the first few buttons on his shirt, peeling it back so he can examine his wounds. His jaw clenches; the punctures aren’t closing over fast enough. It’s too much blood, too quick, and he’ll—

He catches you staring. There’s a sheepish sincerity in the way he smiles, as honest and vulnerable as the holes in his shoulder. He holds out his hand. “Time for an energy storm, don’t you think?”

“No,” you snap. “Save your energy. We might need it later.”

“Oh?” An eyebrow perks up in interest, and it’s just like him to spot a double entendre in the midst of all this chaos.

But you’re staring at his chest through his open shirt and you’re such a hypocrite. “Things might get worse,” you explain.

“Worse?” he repeats as bullets fly over your heads, striking the wall across from you and scattering plaster over the floor. He watches it crumble. “Paint me a picture, kitten— what would worse look like?”

Even Rafayel might struggle with that particular creative prompt.

“Come on,” Sylus insists, using the excuse of your silence to push his hand closer to you. “Now’s not the time to play coy.”

“Sylus, I really don’t—”

He grasps your hand, his fingers locking with yours and squeezing tight. Your heart jumps at the touch. It strangles the protests in your throat and stays there, strung up by anticipation and dread.

You’re feeling so much that it takes you too long to realise nothing is happening.

Sylus’s eyes are fixed on your connected palms. He’s squinting, concentrating, and when that doesn’t work— when your hand is paling in the vice of his— he loosens his grip, his thumb feathering over yours as he mumbles a quick: “forgive me.”

He doesn’t let you go. You can still feel him, all of him, imploring to just let him in.

You don’t, and his eyes meet yours, for a moment— like another bullet has bitten through his flesh. Your mouth drops in fake surprise; you’re always so innocent when you pull a trigger on him.

This time, there’s no wound you can push your hands against in a guilty effort to staunch the bleeding. You have to apologise. Have to stitch it up with every word you’ve been guarding, saving, and it isn’t supposed to be like this. “Sylus, it’s not what you think. I—”

Something metal clatters across the floor behind you, bounces like a failing, stuttering heartbeat, then explodes.

…

“Good news, boss! We figured it out!”

Sylus groans, looking up from a report he’s not really been reading as two figures crash into his room. Not good, he thinks, as Kieran flings himself into the nearest armchair. Whatever this is, it’s not good. Luke settles on its arm.

With a sigh, Sylus removes his reading glasses. They stay, hooked on a finger, as he pushes his hair back like he can feel a headache coming on. His eyes flutter closed, and when they open, the twins are both leaning forward, bristling with excitement.

“Ask us,” Luke whispers in a way that makes Sylus think he might not realise he’s speaking out loud.

Another sigh. “What did you figure out?”

Kieran whips out a tired-looking notepad from behind his back. He clears his throat— “ahem!”— then starts to read: “Reasons why Miss Hunter was not able to resonate with you. Number one...”

“How did you find out about—”

“Sshhhh,” Kieran interrupts, putting a finger to where his lips should be. Sylus’s eyes widen in indignation, and Luke comes to his twin’s rescue, silently indicating Mephisto with a few tips of his head. The crow shrinks down on his perch.

“Number one,” Kieran repeats, matter-of-factly. “Your height.”

“My… height?”

Luke nods solemnly as Kieran continues: “humanityandconquer.com/power-dynamics describes tallness as a ‘natural advantage when trying to dominate a smaller individual.’ You are very tall. Try crouching when you speak to Miss Hunter.” He glances over the top of his notepad. “If you approach her at her level, she’ll know you mean no—”

“Nope. Next,” Sylus dismisses, waving his hand in a fast-forward motion. That headache is coming on.

“Reason two,” Kieran acquiesces, gaze falling, “your eyes.”

“Oh, for gods’ sake—”

“They’re red,” the twin pushes on, “and red means danger. In fiction, red eyes are symony—” he stops, spells it out— “synonymous with the supernatural. Vampires especially. Plus, lots of bad stuff is red.” He’s going off-script. “Blood. Fire. Sunburns.”

“Sunburns are pink,” Luke muses.

“No, like, bad sunburns, y’know?”

“Oh right, yeah.” There’s a shrug of agreement.

Sylus’s will to live is hanging by a thread, and they really don’t have a care in the world, do they? It must be nice. “Thank you,” he murmurs, “for your little investigation. If that’s all, I would—”

“Reason three!” Luke chirps, wiggling the same number of fingers, and Sylus’s head lolls back against the sofa.

“Miss Hunter is struggling to separate this version of you from your first impression,” Kieran says.

Sylus looks up. “What?”

Luke is rubbing his hands together eagerly, like they’ve finally gotten to the good stuff. “Well, you remember how you and Miss Hunter met,” his twin explains.

Words won’t do it justice, apparently, because the man begins to act it out. He reaches to grip Luke by the throat and Luke pretends to choke, fingers clawing at the grasp. Then Kieran stands up— throws Luke down into the chair and pins him there with his foot before snatching up his hand.

“See what I mean?” Kieran asks over his shoulder. “I mean, it must have been pretty traumatic. You kinda tore her away from everything she knew. Forced her to use her power, et cetera, et cetera.”

Sylus has gone quiet. He’s vaguely aware that the twins are moving, saying more, but he can’t hear it. He feels sick. Then he feels something different: someone poking at his arm. A hand is waved in front of his face, but he doesn’t react.

“Oh, we so got it,” Luke whispers conspiratorially behind him.

“Hell yeah we did!” Kieran whispers back.

There’s the sound of them high-fiving, and it spurs Sylus into action. He’s up out of his seat, out of their shadows, and then the door as well— long before they can stop him. He needs to breathe. He needs the cold night air and the quiet, and his strides drive him towards it, but not fast enough.

He’s about to use his Evol. To let himself evaporate so he can be whole again somewhere else, somewhere easier, but then he stops. He’s by an open door, glancing in at a decadent living room, where you’re sprawled over a black leather couch. This isn’t easier. This hurts, and it hurts more as he forces himself to close the distance between you.

You’re still asleep. You’ve been unconscious ever since that grenade went off, and it’s for the best, really; getting out of that place was… messy. Sylus’s shoulder still aches, the blood on his shirt now crusty and dark. Some of it’s his. Some of it’s yours.

He’s not sure why he’s still wearing it.

The twins did a pretty good job of patching you up, but— looking over you— he would have done better. It was his role, after all. His duty to you, or maybe just a reason to get close to you. He couldn’t do it today. Couldn’t touch you, no matter how noble the intention. And a little part of him was glad for the excuse; his hands always shake.

A blanket is half on your legs, half on the floor, and Sylus stoops to collect the edge of it. He draws it over your shoulder, adjusting it around your arms— at rest by your face. He’s close, now, and he…

He can’t help himself. When has he ever been able to help himself? He lifts his hand slowly; he wants to kiss you. Even though your blood is still drying on his shirt and it’s all his fault.

…

Someone’s hand is on your face.

The touch draws you back into consciousness, tender, careful, then suddenly sharp. “Ah,” you hiss. “Sylus?” Always first on your mind and your lips.

“Not even close,” quips the shadow above you.

“Kieran?”

“Bingo.”  

You use your hand to block some of the room’s light as you open your eyes— a birdlike silhouette taking shape through the gaps in your fingers. “Where’s Sylus?” you ask, teeth clenching as the twin applies a thin strip of surgical tape to a cut on your cheek. “Is he ok?”

“Sheesh, relax. He’s fine,” Kieran tuts, then seems to reconsider, “well…”

“He’s brooding,” chimes a voice from behind you. “Out on the balcony.” Luke.

You rub at your eyes, still drowsy with sleep. “Why’s he brooding? What did you do?”

“Told him he traumatised you,” they speak in unison.

“What?! Why would you say something like that?”

“Because it’s true,” Kieran shrugs. “That’s why you and boss couldn’t, you know…” He twinkles his fingers.

Resonate? Ugh. You slide your feet onto the floor, sitting up straight for a solid second before you bury your face in your hands, omitting a few, pained whines. This is such a mess, and it only got worse while you were asleep. First that stupid grenade, now the twins.

A hand pats at your back. “There, there,” Luke soothes.

You turn to glare at him. His hand retreats.

Forget it; you have to find Sylus.

…

You step out onto the balcony, head full of apologies you’ve had all of a minute to prepare, and it isn’t enough. It felt fitting, in the middle of a shootout— everything was allowed to be frantic and from the heart. Here it’s calm, and if you ruin something— break anything— it’s going to be obvious. There’s no other violence to blame.

Sylus must hear you join him, but he doesn’t turn. He’s leant forwards against the rail, one arm folded upon it, the other outstretched: sporting a glass of liquor that hangs from the tips of his fingers and that he swirls gently, his gaze far away.

The twins really weren’t kidding.

“Hey,” you greet, and it’s sort of pathetic, but you don’t know what else to say.

“Hey,” Sylus returns, “are you—” he looks back at you over his shoulder— “are you alright?”

“Yeah,” you smile warmly. “I mean, the twins are giving me a headache, but that’s, like, standard.”  

He smiles back: a courtesy. You’ve seen him grin through almost every type of pain imaginable, but this one is new. Think about what Luke and Kieran said. What he must be thinking. “Sylus, I—”

“You don’t have to explain,” he stops you, turning his body towards you. “Honestly, I’d… rather you didn’t.”

“Why?”

“Why?” he chuckles, masking a deeper hurt as he lifts his glass to his lips. “You’re really going to make me say it?”

You are; you hold his gaze as he takes a deliberately slow sip of his drink. He smirks, surrenders at once and admits: “I’m really not that strong, sweetie. That’s why.”

“What if I want to explain?”

The smirk falters, and his eyes make their own, sad, silent confession. If you want to explain? He’ll let you. He’ll stand here, listening patiently while you call him a thing of nightmares. While you break him, bit by tortuous bit, by reminding him just how frightening he is.

He turns back to the view, shrugs, but none of the tension leaves his shoulders. “Go on, then.”

“Sylus?”

“Mmm?”

“You don’t scare me, you know.”

His hand tightens around his glass. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Pity me,” he grimaces. “I don’t need it. I know what I am. I’d just… forgotten what I was to you.”

Your captor. Your monster. Except that was a lifetime ago and he’s been so many more things to you since then. Tell him. “Sylus…”

“I felt it,” he snaps, because your voice is still so reluctant, and he’s going to save you the trouble. “When we tried to resonate, I felt it— your fear— just as deep as it used to be. I heard that same voice in your head, the one saying you wouldn’t let me in, couldn’t let me in, so don’t tell me I don’t scare you, sweetie.” The term of endearment tastes sour, you can tell. “I know how you feel. I know—”

“I like you, Sylus.”

“…What?”

You couldn’t take it anymore. “I like you,” you say again, and your heart is beating too quickly for eloquence, so you just have simplicity. “You don’t scare me at all, Sy. I care about you. A lot.”

Sylus stares at you, his eyes wide. There’s no confidence. No smile or drawn-out breath of relief. He sets his glass aside on the railing, gaze leaving yours for a moment, and you get the feeling he needs that moment as much as he needed the drink itself.

Then he looks at you again. Asks in a way that makes you ache: “do you mean it?”

Look at him. Your throat stings. “Of course I mean it.”

“Say it again.”

“I mean it, Sylus. I care about—”

His lips are on yours and the rest of your words are lost in his mouth. You, you say with the way you kiss him back, soft and slow, like you’re relishing something that might slip away. You, you insist— your hand finding his face, his hair, as he kisses you deeper, and you, you, you, when he doesn’t stop.

“Is this alright?” he murmurs, his fingers around your chin and his thumb tugging at your bottom lip.

“Mmm,” you confirm, equally breathless.

He laughs as he withdraws a little, still caressing your face like you’re something of a dream. “You’re not making this easy, kitten.”

“Worried you might traumatise me again?”    

It's a low blow. He scoffs. “Luke and Kieran said—”

“Luke and Kieran once bought arts-and-crafts feathers for Mephisto because they thought the colours would make him, and I quote: more aerodynamic.” You pinch his ear playfully. “I can’t believe you let them get to you.”

“I know,” he groans, lifting your hand so he can press chaste kisses along the line of your knuckles. “Not my finest moment.” He guides your palm to his cheek— leans into it as he leans into an idea. “They said you hated my eyes,” he pouts.

You can’t help giggling. He frowns. “I mean— aww, no,” you scramble, but you’re still laughing. You can’t stop. “Your eyes are… yeah. So pretty.”

“You had to think about it?”

“There were just too many adjectives, y’know? I was struggling to—”

He kisses you again, saving you: crushing your laughter with his own, lightheaded smile. His hand finds yours as his lips move against you, your fingers interlocking as you resonate— chasing an instinct, a need to be impossibly closer— and you let him see everything. Feel everything.

It’s a mad tangle of opposites. Heaven. Hell. Life. Death. You don’t know what any of it means, but it’s yours and it’s his and it doesn’t scare you half as much as it should. Sylus breaks your kiss. He pushes his forehead against your own with a sigh of contentment, and it doesn’t scare him, either.  

Savour each second. Think of some better adjectives, while you still have the time.

He’s going to earn every single one.

…

✨Epilogue✨

Inside, staring out through the floor-to-ceiling windows that separate the room from the balcony, Luke and Kieran stand, looking awfully smug.   

“Mission accomplished,” Kieran nods, flipping closed his notepad, aptly titled: 101 Ways To Get Boss Laid! (There are only, currently, fifty-two.)

Luke’s arms are folded. “We’re like, the best wingmen ever.”

Kieran is silent. He repeats carefully: “Wingmen. Wingmen.”

The beaks of the crow masks gradually turn to face one-another. There’s a mutual epiphany, and both twins almost fall over laughing.

[mywritersmind]

RULE NO.1 - LN

summary : fewtrell!sister. The one rule Max keeps strict with Lando is to stay away from his sister! Lando has always teased the girl but as she returns from college to crash at Max’s, it’s not so much of a joke anymore.

warning : kissing kissing kissing!

word count : 1740

⋆ ˚‧｡⋆

My brother has always had one rule with Lando, that is, ‘No, Under so circumstances, can you ever do ANYTHING with my sister.’ After I had my first kiss with said F1 driver, Max vetoed anything between us.

Of course there was nothing there, we were twelve and I had a tiny crush on him. But Lando is nothing if not mischievous.

He flirts. That’s the way he gets around the silly rule. His touches linger, his words tease me, and his eyes say anything he forgot.

Max absolutely hates it, especially with Landos track record with girls, it’s become a way to protect me and his own friendship.

I don’t exactly hate it. It’s a hot guy flirting with me, why would I hate it? Still, maybe my teeny tiny crush never fully left my mind. And with his meaningless words comes my own meaningful feelings.

“You look good.” I can see Lando in the reflection of the TV. He sips his tea, and leans against the counter.

He's in running shorts and a Quadrant shirt.

“Thank you.” I haven’t seen Lando in more than a year. I’ve been in my last year at Uni and his career has been crazier than ever. I would be fine around him… except that the last time I saw him it was new years. And he kissed me.

He kissed me and it’s lived rent free in my head for over a year. Max doesn’t know, of course he doesn’t because Lando is still in one piece.

Our whole childhood I was just the little sister who sometimes would beat them at mario kart. I’m two years younger, nothing crazy, yet Max seems to think it’s illegal for Lando to see me in shorts.

“Where’s my brother?” I ask, turning the page of my book without reading any words.

“Running.” He shrugs, “He’s slow.” I hear Landos footsteps come closer, then his bent over body leans against the back of the couch, making our heads next to each other.

He's turned toward me, I refuse to take my eyes off this book. “Why? You don’t trust us alone?”

Fuck Max and his slow ass.

I turn to face him, not letting myself feed his ego, “I don’t trust Max’s judgment of us alone.”

Landos slow smirk that tormented me throughout my childhood drifts back onto his face, “He’s right though.”

I sigh and close my book, getting up and walking to the kitchen, “He’s not here, Norris. You don’t have to play like that.”

“Play like what?” He turns to face me, wanting me to say it. “Oh i’m sorry, Your boyfriend wouldn’t approve?”

I hate the way he knows me because he clocks the way my lips pull into a thin line immediately, “You broke up?”

“It was mutual.” I say quickly.

“You dumped him.” He laughs out loud, walking closer to me, “God, Y/N please tell me he cried.” he did cry, actually.

I pivot and grab an apple for myself. I bite into it and Lando takes the time to assess me. I suddenly feel naked in sweats and a tank top.

“You’re one to talk. You cried after Kelly Allen kissed another boy on the playground.”

“That was in primary school!”

I laugh as he gets defensive, “I’m going to bed.”

“Wait! Come on, humor me a bit more.” He steps closer and I step backwards.

“Goodnight, Lando.” I turn around.

“Goodnight, Gorgeous.” His words make me spin on my heels.

“Stop it.”

“Stop what?” He fakes innocence.

“Stop being a flirt! You’re never serious around me and it’s getting annoying.” Something in his face changes then.

“Why would you think I’m not being serious?”

The door opens right as he says it, my brother stomping in as I back away from Lando, “I- Hate- You!” he pants as Landos whole demeanor changes to casually laughing at his friend. “Oh- Y/N!” Max catches his breath, “Lando is staying here tonight so… the couch is officially closed.”

I roll my eyes and lock myself into Max’s guest bedroom. This is going to be a long night.

____

I can’t sleep.

I can’t stop thinking about Lando sleeping right outside my door.

I need water, I decide.

I slip on my Brandy Melville shorts and adjust my thin tank top, walking out into the dark kitchen.

When I open the fridge I basically get blinded. Why the fuck is this light so bright!? I’m not the only one it bothers because the body on the couch stirs, “Hmm?” Lando groans and sits up, looking at me with sleepy confusion.

I grab the water pitcher and shut the door quickly, though by this time my eyes have adjusted to the dark and can properly see Lando.

Lando who’s in gray sweats.

Lando who’s in gray sweats, only.

“Sorry.” I whisper, turning to face the cabinet and trying to grab a glass.

I didn’t even notice he got off of the couch until I felt him behind me, reaching up to grab the cup that I couldn't reach.

“Thanks.” I duck under his arm. He's not even that much taller than me!

“Thirsty?” He says in a raspy voice. I pour my water with a slightly shaky hand.

“That would explain the water.” I say in a sassy tone. He chuckles a bit and leans against the counter top, his hands holding onto the marble.

I turn to face him, sipping my water. He checks me out then. With no shame at all! His hot gaze sweeps across my body for the second time today.

“Amused?” I ask innocently as his eyes meet mine.

“With you? Always.” He says without missing a beat, “I wasn’t joking, you know.”

I don’t know what he’s talking about.

“You said I'm never serious around you. But I've never lied to you.” my heart rate raises. I'm grateful we’re in the dark so he can’t see my pink cheeks.

“Lando. You shouldn’t say that.” I try to keep my eyes above his bare torso, I'm not doing too well.

“Why? Cause of Max? Fuck Max.” He’s closer to me now, he places his hands on both sides of my waist, bracing himself against the counter, “I think about that kiss every day.”

“We were twelve, I think it’s time to get over it.” I shrug, teasing him. He puts his head down, shaking it.

“I hate you.” Our eyes lock again.

I can hear his breathing, “No you don’t.”

His eyes glance to my lips, “No I don’t.” I watch him hesitate, once. Only once. His lips are on mine in an instant after that.

He feels so familiar yet so changed. This isn’t like how he kissed me on new years, this is new, this is right.

I grip onto anything I can, wanting him closer. His hands move to my hips, slipping his finger under the waist of my shorts.

“Lan-” I try to say but he cuts me off by kissing me. “Lando.” I say again, his mouth moving to my neck so I can talk. “We’re gonna wake up-”

He stops kissing me and suddenly I'm lifted onto the countertop, the ice cold marble freezing my ass. “Love, you’re gonna have to not think about that. Alright?” The way he says it makes me want to squeeze my legs together.

I nod, unable to speak before kissing him again. He slips his tongue into my mouth and holds my waist tight. Landos touch makes me think I'm going to melt right onto the floor.

My head hits the cabinets behind me but I don’t care, I wrap my arms around his neck, having him in between my legs still.

His hand moves to my cheek, kissing me desperately. He pushes his hand back into my hair, shamelessly tugging at it. I whimper as my head nods backwards. I hear his quickened breathing against me, his lips dragging down my chin and neck.

“Fuck, do that again.” He presses wet kisses down my chest, gripping my boob under my shirt. Right on cue, I whimper again as he runs his finger over my nipple. “Good girl.”

Landos hand finds itself in my hair once again, wrapping it around his knuckles. I want him so bad and I hate him for doing this here.

When he pulls on my hair once more, I knew he fucked up. The moan I let out is raw and too loud for us trying to stay quiet.

He slaps his hand over my mouth, his eyes darting up to my face. We go silent, waiting for some sign that Max is awake or heard us.

We wait.

Nothing comes.

I look at him and lick his hand, “Ugh!” He whisper yells.

I laugh quietly, “Your own doing.”

He shakes his head and lets it drop onto my shoulder as we fall into silent laughter. I poke his side, “You like me.”

He just rolls his eyes and pushes his hair back, still panting a bit, “You like me.”

“With the way you kiss, I better.” I smirk as he drags his hand down his face.

I watch him adjust his pants, earning me a raised brow and a smirk. I push his face away from me and hop off the counter, I attempt to fix my hair but I’m still being stared at by Lando.

“You really are gorgeous, ya know?” His words surprise me, making my already hot body even worse.

“I appreciate it.”

“Let me take you out.”

“We haven’t seen eachother in a year- what makes you think this year will be any different?” He bites his lip, holding onto my hips one last time.

“We can make it work.”

“But Ma-” I try to say.

Lando rolls his eyes. “He never wanted us to fuck around-”

“Like we just did…” I interrupt.

He keeps going, “But I like you.” I can’t help but smile, “And I don’t care if he doesn’t like that.”

“Look at you… sticking up to my brother.”

He smiles, running his tongue over his teeth before kissing me, “Goodnight for real, Gorgeous.”

He lets go of me as I turn around, “Goodnight, Lando.”

[willowsnook]

When Love is Left Unspoken

max verstappen x reader

she isn't you i'd be insane not to love you

request from @formulaal

Pt. 2 here

"Alright, one more question from the chat," you said into your mic, scanning for a good one. One caught your eye, and you began reading it aloud before realizing it would reveal something from your past. “Would you choose a guy over your best friend?”

Laughing humorlessly, you looked into the camera with a tight smile. “Anyone who’s been here for a while knows how relevant that question is to my life. But my answer hasn’t changed: if you’re choosing a romantic partner over your best friend, you can get fucked. Thanks for tuning in, everyone. See you around.”

Logging off, you grabbed your water bottle and headed to the kitchen to refill it. Checking your phone, you smiled at the stats from the stream—10k of your fans tuning in tonight was a big turnout. You’d gone viral on BookTok back in 2020, and now, your book podcast had a solid following. Normally, BookTok didn’t bring huge numbers, but thanks to your former best friend, your popularity had skyrocketed. As grateful as you were, his part in your success irritated you now.

Then a notification popped up on your screen, and you rolled your eyes.

MV: Nice stream.

You: Fuck off

MV: Glad I’m still living rent-free in your head.

You: Glad you got permission to text me.

You threw your phone down on the counter, boiling inside. Nobody got under your skin like he could, especially after 20 years of knowing exactly how to do it. Growing up, it hadn’t always been this way. At 10, you’d moved with your family to the Netherlands, right next door to the Verstappens. Max quickly became your best friend, your weekends spent watching him kart. Never in your wildest dreams did you imagine things would end like this.

You met Kelly in 2018 at a race Max invited you to. Right away, you got weird vibes. She looked at Max like a toy she had to have. It was creepy, especially given the nine-year age gap. By 2019, they were dating, and she made it clear she didn’t like you, refusing to acknowledge your existence. That led to rocky times between you and Max; he always had excuses to avoid seeing you. When you were together, he seemed tense, as if being watched.

Everything fell apart in Australia 2021.

Flashback

Max invited you to the first race of the 2021 season, though you almost didn’t go. It felt obligatory, as if he invited you just because you’d never missed an opening race. You hadn’t seen him all winter, just exchanging quick holiday texts. Walking into the paddock, you felt a strange sense of finality, like this might be the last one.

Spotting Carmen outside Mercedes, you walked over and hugged her. As you stepped back, she looked worried.

“What’s up?”

She hesitated. “I thought you should know, Kelly’s been saying some nasty things about you around the paddock. No one believes her, but… I wanted you to know.”

“What is she saying?” you asked, heart sinking.

“She’s calling you pathetic, saying you’re still pining over your childhood crush and using Max to become an influencer,” she said softly, looking at you with sympathy.

“You’re joking,” you said, anger simmering. She shook her head.

“Can I be real with you?” She asked, and you nodded. “I love you and George loves you and honestly, everyone does. But I will accept not seeing you here anymore if you finally realize that Max is not being a good friend to you. And he hasn’t been for a long time.”

Eyes filling with tears, you let her words sink in. She was right, but admitting it was brutal. Maybe staying around him was just self-inflicted pain.

You found Max later, pulling him aside.

“I only have a few minutes, so make it quick,” he said, barely looking at you. Seeing him like this, you realized that the man in front of you wasn’t your best friend anymore.

“Your girlfriend’s telling people I’m a pathetic loser here to use you for fame,” you said, voice flat.

“I don’t believe that,” he mumbled, avoiding your eyes.

“Really?” you laughed bitterly. “You don’t believe that from your girlfriend—the one who’s disliked me since day one?”

“Seems like you have something to say, Y/N. Just say it,” he replied, finally looking at you.

“There was a time in my life where I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to live without you. But now I’m living it. Have the past ten years been nothing to you? All it took was an older woman to bat her eyelashes at you and that was it?”

He opened his mouth, but you cut him off.

“I’m not going to stand here and tell you that we had a good run and that I wish you the best. Fuck you. Fuck you for choosing her over me and fuck you for even letting it have to be a choice. I hate you.”

End of Flashback

That was the last time you had spoken to him. There were no texts or calls after that; his life just went on like normal while you felt like you were dying inside. You had thrown yourself into your work after that and now had over a million followers and subscribers to your podcast. You’d stayed friends with Carmen but hadn’t returned to a race since that day. You had tried to block the memory of that day from your mind, but when you were low, one thing always resurfaced in your mind. Kelly was right about you pining after your childhood crush. You had been in love with Max back then. How could you not be?

Then Carmen invited you to the Austin GP, and after much persuasion, you finally agreed. Thanks to your online following, you flew down with her, officially a Mercedes guest. Wearing Mercedes colors felt like poetic justice.

When you entered the paddock, a wave of nostalgia and sadness hit you. But it disappeared as you saw familiar faces you’d missed over the years.

"Y/N!" Alex called, arms open. Hugging him, you sighed, realizing how much you’d missed everyone. “I’m glad you’re back.”

“Me too,” you admitted before greeting Lily, who gushed over your podcast and joked about being a guest. As you laughed with her, you noticed Alex subtly trying to block your view. Looking over, you saw Max walking by. He did a double take, but you turned back to Lily, ignoring his stare.

Later, as you waited for a coffee, you overheard Checo’s wife and Fernando’s girlfriend chatting.

“I heard Max and Kelly broke up,” Melissa said.

“Oh yeah, it’s been a few months,” Carola replied, shrugging. “Apparently, he was in love with someone else the whole time.”

You smirked. So Kelly finally experienced what it felt like to be second choice.

The race came and went, and you successfully avoided Max the entire weekend. You didn’t even think about the possibility of running into him when you accepted Carmen’s invitation to go out that night. George had actually wanted to go out, so you found yourself at a little country bar that night with what seemed to be the whole grid. You felt Max’s gaze the second you walked in, and you were doing a hell of a job ignoring him. Charles was trying to talk to him, looking confused between the two of you, but you didn’t care.

Ordering another gin and tonic you felt him come up next to you and you refused to look over.

“Put hers on mine,” Max said, handing over his card. You tried to leave, but he held out an arm to stop you.

“No ‘thank you’?” he teased, eyes intense.

You glared. “You can have it, then.”

“Stop being difficult,” he said, rolling his eyes. “You look good.”

“Can’t say the same about you,” you shot back, and his expression darkened.

He sighed. “Can we talk?”

“I said everything I needed to say three years ago. Have a good night.”

This time he let you go and you made your way back to Carmen who was looking at you with a raised eyebrow.

“You okay?” She asked, and you nodded.

A little while later, you were sitting at a table talking with Charles with Max hovering close by.

“Max, come sit down,” Charles slurred, and at this point, you were too tipsy to put up a fight about it. “Max is my best friend, ya know?”

“Ah yeah?” You asked head tilting. “Those words don’t mean much coming from him.”

Charles giggled, too drunk to understand what you meant and Max clenched his jaw looking at you.

“Insult me all you want schatje, as long as you’re talking to me I’ll take it,” he said and you didn’t say anything, just stared at him trying to figure out his angle.

“Is this the girl Kelly broke up with you over?” Charles asked and Max whipped his head towards him. “You always had a thing for her, so I told Alex that was my guess.”

Max’s face fell, and you froze. Shock turned into anger as you got up and stormed out. You felt Max following and soon he was in front of you, blocking your path.

“Come on,” he urged, leading you to a nearby park.

“Max, I don’t want to talk,” you said firmly, pulling away.

“I don’t care,” he replied, frustrated. “Tell me what I need to do to fix this.”

You laughed bitterly. “Crawling back because you got dumped? It’s too late.”

“It’s not like that.”

“You made your choice three years ago. Now live with it.”

“You want to know why we broke up?”

“I don’t really give a fuck,” you replied before turning to walk away.

“She isn’t you!” He yelled. Your legs stopped moving as your mind reeled.

Whirling on him you got into his face, “You don’t get to fucking say that to me. Not after all this time. Not after what you put me through. Not after you chose her over me. I was there the whole time Max. Me! I was there! It’s not my fault you didn’t realize that till I was gone.” 

“I realized it long before then,” he said softly, and you took a couple of deep breaths, trying to calm yourself. Tears were starting to fall, and you looked everywhere but him. 

“Then why?” You whispered, voice cracking. 

“Because I wasn’t good enough for you,” he said laughing sadly to himself. “The pressure was starting to cave in back then and I didn’t want you to see that. I didn’t want to burden you.”

“You were my best friend Max,” you said exasperated. “I would have done anything for you.” 

“It’s easy to see that now,” he said. “But then you were so full of life and starting your little videos that I didn’t want to disappoint you. She understood what I was going through, but I never stopped loving you.” 

“Then why did you still push me away?” 

“I had to do that so that I could try and move on. She knew and she hated that there wasn’t anything she could do to change how I felt about you. I knew what she was saying about you in the paddock, and I knew why she was saying it.” 

His words hit you like a ton of bricks, and it felt like heartbreak all over again. “You knew and you let it happen. You are the worst person I’ve ever known Max Verstappen.”

He was crying now too and the two of you stood staring at one another not saying anything. 

“I would be insane not to love you,” he said softly and it made you cry harder. “So I will do whatever it takes for however long to make up for what I did.” 

He let you go again and you left him there, crying silently as you walked back to the hotel. So many emotions going through your mind paired with confusing feelings. 

Happiness for your 15-year-old self that has wanted to hear those words for so long. 

Sadness for your 21-year-old self reliving those memories. 

And anger at your 24-year-old self for considering letting him make it up to you. 

[some-bunniii]

Lucifer dotes on a pregnant!reader

・❥ Congrats, you’re pregnant! It’s not Luci’s, but nobody can tell the difference with how much he adores you and your baby

| Part 1 | Part 2 |

x: based on @ukor02’s prompt! reader is fem with no use of y/n. enjoy 🤍

~ 27k words!! Ya’ll…. :’)

[read it in chapters on my ao3!]

“Please, Mr. Demur! Can’t I pay you next week? I’ll have enough by then, I promise.”

“How many ‘next weeks’ are we going to have here, hm? If I don’t start making money on these units, I won’t be able to pay off my own debts. I can’t let you keep living here rent-free!” 

You grimaced as your landlord continued to speak across the line, his voice harsh against your ear as you held the small phone against it. Your nails clicked nervously against the wooden countertop of your kitchen, the sound reverberating around the room, helping to drown out your thoughts.

You had been very behind on monthly dues. Your income wasn’t enough to support all your woes anymore, which meant you were struggling to pay rent and afford groceries. Hell’s inflation was getting pretty crazy, and without a second source of income, you were doomed.

You had a second source of income when your boyfriend lived with you and worked for maintenance at VoxTek. Until you found him rolling under the sheets with your next-door neighbor, one of Valentino’s girls who decided that she’d expand her interests to family men.

He had begged for your forgiveness when you dragged him by the ear towards the front door. ‘I won’t do it again, I promise!’ he had pleaded, moaning for your mercy. Right, like you were going to trust a demon from Lust to stay loyal any longer.

What a fool you were, giving him all those chances. Now, you were taking the hit for everything. Alone. Regret ate at the back of your mind, should you have let him stay? If not for your feelings, at least to have kept a roof over your head for you and…

Your gaze traveled slowly down to the small bump on your abdomen, the unspoken words shouting that you ever had relations with a man. Your unborn baby.

The baby your boyfriend knew about, a week before he brought that woman into your home. Yet, he still shoved you aside for a hotter piece of trash. The nerve.

How were you going to support a whole other helpless, tiny being now? If only you could get some empathy from your landlord, appeal to his second nature…

“I understand your difficulties, trust me, I do! But—”

“If you understand that,” your landlord over the phone finally growled out, “then you’ll understand that I’m giving you three days to pack up all your things, and get out of my unit!”

The line ended, that soft buzzing in your ear the only thing keeping you grounded atop the kitchen stool you were quietly shaking on.

Out? He was evicting you? That wasn’t fair! You’ve lived here for years, and a few late payments are what ends your relationship with the little one-bedroom apartment? Ridiculous! 

What were you going to do now? There was nobody to lean on for help, not anymore. Not after your boyfriend left, and your best friend ran off with some royal shitbag down to the Envy Ring, and who even knows where your parents were these days.

It was just you, and the little bean who’d call you Mama soon enough.

Your hand lowered, thumb grazing soothingly against the small protrusion in your belly. Tears pricked at your eyes, hot and angry as you fumed silently. Was this it? The end of any happiness in your life? Forced to grovel like a dog to some powerful entity, or sign a contract that rips free will from your grasp? 

You shivered at the thought. No. That's not how you were going to go out, not without a fight. Even in a dark and brooding place like Hell, you’d try to live a happy and comfortable life, if not for you, at least for the baby growing in your womb. 

Maybe, when the child is born, you won't feel so lonely anymore. They’d be someone to snuggle with at night, curled up against your chest as the two of you lounged on the sofa. The soft words emanating from the TV across the room like a lullaby to their tiny ears, as they drank in the warmth of your body, drifting into blissful sleep.

You’d lower your nose and breathe in that fresh, sweet baby scent from the top of their head, filling you with another dose of pure love and adoration. That child would be fawned over for, well, forever. Even if you were the only one going to share that love, you could wait for them to grow older and return some of it.

That made you smile, imagining the little pitter-pattering of feet against tile flooring as you baked the toddler delicious treats and cooked delicacies that made their little mouth water. That gleam of awe in their eye as the flavors swirled against their tongue, their brain growing fuzzy with pleasure.

That’s the life you would live, and not some cardboard box in the alleyway begging for scraps.

“Alright, looks like Mama has some work to do,” you spoke softly to the quiet, empty room. You weren’t sure whether the little bean could hear your voice nestled so far in your belly, but at this point, you were willing to chat up thin air if it kept your sanity. 

It wasn’t going to be easy, that was for sure. You needed a stable income, instead of picking up odd jobs popping up on the streets. Then, you needed to find a place to stay, it could be anything, even a barn. As long as it was somewhere with a little room and comfort, it would do for the time being. You’d have to upgrade when the baby was born, though, maybe to a two-bedroom apartment this time.

Quickly, you lifted your phone and typed in the now-familiar phrase ���Places hiring in Pentagram City’. You scrolled, favoriting every job that offered a decent income and was manageable for you.

Being pregnant was going to make things difficult, seeing as you’d be unable to do many physical tasks sometime down the road in the coming months. Which would give you very few options soon.

Your feet hit the soft carpet of the living room, and you rubbed your eyes sleepily. That nausea that had been plaguing you early in the morning was draining you physically, and the stress that was beginning to build on your shoulders only zapped your mental strength.

A few hours of beauty sleep, and then you’d get your ass to work. 

Your stomach growled, moaning for substance, and you sighed. Okay, a nap and lunch… then, you’d be moving toward financial stability. One step at a time, and now a tiny bean to think about. 

Sooner or later, you’d get there.

Before eviction day, you had managed to find an open position at a small convenience store in a much quieter part of the city. Residential neighborhoods wrapped around the row of stores inside a quaint, little market at the edge of the city. 

You looked into the large display windows that bordered the front door to the dark purple shop. ‘We’re Hiring!’ in bold lettering on a corner of the glass pane, beneath the rows of chips and other snacks on a tall shelf standing a few feet behind the window. Right beneath that flashy sign, was a smaller piece of paper taped hastily to the glass surface. “Room Available for rent’ was scrawled in unkempt handwriting, and your eyes widened in excitement.

Taking a deep breath, you gripped the cold, metal handle and pulled the door open. The golden bell above your head jingled a faint tune as you stepped through the threshold. Your eyes take in the old, wooden shelves that hung on either side of the room, while shorter displays were lined neatly in rows spanning wall to wall filled with snacks, home essentials, and more.

The place was kind of a mess, but… it felt rather homey. A ‘Mom and Pop’ shop kinda of thing, stirring nostalgic emotions inside of you. When you reached an older demon, her back hunched slightly with age and the weight of the large shell on her back, you realized how your feelings couldn’t get any more accurate. 

Green skin sagged from the elderly woman’s face, deep wrinkles embedded into her reptilian features as she regarded you with suspicion. She resembled pretty closely to a tortoise, with that round, thick shell that lay upon her back and neck that extended high from her body. She held a broom in her long claws, halting mid-sweep as you smiled gently at her. 

“Can I help you?” She croaked.

“I’m here for the job opening, the general worker position?” Your smile widened, trying to look as presentable and friendly as possible. This may not be the job of your dreams, but it was a job nonetheless, a start. 

“You Hellborn?” 

“Yes.” What an odd question.

“You can lift and move large boxes?”

“Sure can!” You replied, with a quick nod. For the next few months, at least. If you couldn’t find a new job by the time your belly was unable to be hidden any longer, you’d spill the beans to granny.

“Hm,” the wrinkled demon eyed you with more interest, and she tilted her head in thought for a few moments, before meeting your gaze again, “I think I can make do with what’s in front of me, for now.”

Not even an interview? What a score!

A sigh of relief escaped you, the invisible weight on your shoulders lightening slightly as you shook hands with the turtle. The job wasn’t going to be that difficult, cashiering, stocking, talking to customers, easy peasy. Until the swollen ankles kicked in.

“Oh, and the room for rent! I’m kinda in need of some living arrangements for now. Do you still have availability?” You clasped your hands, smiling widely once more.

“We have space…” The old, turtle-faced demon sighed, turning her large shell to face you, before ambling away towards a dark hallway behind the small checkout counter. She beckoned you with her thick tail that slowly swayed behind her as she moved.

Slowly, you followed behind the woman, entering what seemed to be the large back room of the store, piles of boxes labeled as different foodstuffs, with thick, heavy bags of an assortment of goods. There looked to be a large freezer on one wall, as it blew cold air that seeped into your skin, sending a shiver down your spine as you crossed the room. 

The turtle demon stopped at a light-brown wooden door, before softly turning the handle and pulling it open. She leaned through the doorway as far as her wide shell would allow and tugged on a thin string hanging from the ceiling. With a click, the small bulb above your head flickered on, illuminating what seemed like a large, dusty storage closet. You gulped, this was tiny! It was the size of a small bedroom, but was supposed to be your entire living unit? You pointed into the lit room, quirking a brow in disbelief.

“Is this…?”

“The room available, yes.”

“It’s kind of… small.”

“Well, what did ya expect, a two-bedroom with a loft? It’s less than a hundred for a reason. The bathroom is next door, so it's a quick walk. We’ve got a hose in the back you can use to shower, and you got a place to buy most of your essentials just a hallway over.”

You thought for a few moments, rubbing your hands together as your mind raced with what other options you currently had. None, really. Anywhere else you had gone to seek employment had already found someone or deemed you unqualified for the position. Let's see… the alleyway or a closet? Hard choice.

“Also, utilities are included in the rent.” 

Well, that was a good bargain.

“Okay, sure” you nodded slowly, rubbing your face with a sigh, “This’ll work.”

“Good. We’ll just take rent out of your paycheck, then. The name is Alma, let me show you around.” 

You had followed her back out to the front of the store, before being walked through the job and every detail your new boss, Alma, found necessary to fill you in on. How to work the old cash register, keys for every door inside the building, where the gun was hidden underneath the counter in case anyone was to rob the store and use it for defense.

When you returned home later that day, your back hit the door and you slid to the ground with a sigh. Your stomach rumbled, and you tenderly rubbed a hand across the protrusion underneath your skin. Rising to your feet, you headed to the kitchen, digging through all the junk for any healthier options you had. There wasn’t much, but you settled on a small microwave meal and placed it into the little appliance.

As the microwave buzzed softly, it filled your head with background noise to your quiet thoughts. Thoughts about your future, your chances at success, your baby, or your loneliness navigating such a turbulent time in your life.

Hopefully, once you had a good night’s sleep and packed up in the morning, the doubts about your decision that were eating at your conscience would fade. Everything was going to be very different from here on out, but maybe, that wouldn’t be so bad after all.

“Looks like we have our work cut out for us,” you whispered into the empty room once more.

It had been a few months since you arrived at that quaint, little shop looking for a job and a place to stay. After a few months, your stomach only continued to grow. 

You had hidden the sight through baggy clothes at first, careful to keep your secret hidden from prying eyes. Until running to the bathroom all the time and your sudden bouts of exhaustion made you reveal the fact to Alma.

She had rolled her eyes, before grumbling how ‘as long as you’re still able to work’ there wouldn’t be any problems regarding your employment. 

There wasn’t much you brought over from your apartment, not even your bed could fit comfortably inside the little room. Instead, you resorted to a one-person mat that only lifted you from the floor a couple of inches. At first, it sucked, really, really sucked. Soon enough, you adjusted to the tension in your back that always woke you just in time for work.

You had brought a few trinkets with you, memories from your past, and small items to keep you busy. You brought that little microwave from your place, which was situated on a small coffee table on the wall across from your bed.

There was nothing for the baby, yet. You didn’t have anything to begin with, nor did you have the money to afford such things. Later, when the little bean was closer to arrival, you’d start hunting through garage sales and thrift stores. The only thing keeping you educated on your pregnancy was the few books detailing motherhood that were on sale at one of the local vendors. 

Standing atop your microwave, was a small flatscreen TV, your only source of entertainment nowadays. Sure, you touch grass once in a while, exploring the market, brisk walks around the block, that sort of thing. Getting a workout made you hungry, though, and with your tiny paycheck? Three meals a day was a luxury you couldn’t afford.

The problem? You were always craving something to eat. Sweet treats, odd vegetables, food you used to hate. Once, you even drooled over a slab of raw meat you were packing away into a freezer, the thought of ripping it apart and devouring it right then and there itching at your scalp. 

Instead, you opted for a large salad. While you made sure to eat enough to feed your baby, the quality of the food you were consuming wasn’t the greatest. Hopefully, you'll be able to afford healthier meals soon.

The work in the store was mundane, the customers lively but nothing worthwhile, and life was pretty stagnant after a few months of living there. Except for the changes in your body, those new aches and sores, the sudden dizziness that caused you to plop down upon the nearest surface.

It was one of these times when you felt your face numbing and your vision beginning to blur, and you fell upon an unopened box of goods. Hand lifting to wipe that dribble of sweat away, you took a deep breath. It was getting harder to do that, though, with how the baby in your womb was beginning to steal the space your lungs needed to expand.

It was a much hotter afternoon, the air simmered with acrid, dry heat that suffocated the store with its intensity. It was a weather normal pattern, but one you loathed nonetheless. A fan close to you finally swiveled in your direction, and you let the cool air smack you in the face with its soothing touch. 

Alma wasn’t around, which meant she wasn’t able to catch you on another one of your on-the-clock breaks. Standing on your feet, lifting boxes and other items all shifts was not fun with a baby rolling around somewhere in your guts.

You were enjoying the momentary peace, eyes shut as you inhaled another large breath. The small TV hanging from the corner of the room, right behind the cashier register hummed softly as the news anchors yapped quietly about something or other.

When you opened your eyes, the congregation of large shadows at the front door caught your attention. Quickly, you rose from the cardboard box, fiddling with another small pile as you took a knife and tore it open. Bags of chips nestled together, your stomach grumbled softly at the multiple flavors it hosted.

You did your best to look busy, just as the door opened with a creak and the bell above its frame jingled excitingly about the fresh, new faces. 

“I can't believe you made us take a walk in this weather, Charlie,” a feminine voice moaned as they crossed through the threshold. Their tall figure rose above the rows of shelves, pink fuzz popping from their partially exposed chest as they strode in. Both sets of arms were crossed, as they turned to meet the gaze of a woman with a bright red tuxedo.

Beside her was a shorter, gray-skinned woman who immediately placed herself in the direction of a whirring fan. One good eye scanned across the room, looking for nothing in particular.

A tall snake demon slithered in behind them, huffing as he collapsed onto a small bench next to the doorway. The hoods framing his face began to fan his heated skin, recuperating for a few moments.

“I agree with—huff—Angel Dusssssst,” The man hissed tiredly, swiping a claw over his brow to dry his forehead, “It sssseeems we have chosen a poor day to—huff—embark on our little excursion.”

“It is pretty hot today, but! That means we all sweat a little more, and burn off some of that negative energy!” The woman, Charlie, exclaimed as she clapped her hands together, “Clear our minds of all that clutter and embrace the heat of a new day!” 

Angel Dust rolled his eyes, grumbling something as he turned to a display of sunglasses, plucking out different pairs from the stand and fiddling with them on his face as he posed in the tiny mirror.

“Husk’a! Don’t I look fantabulous or what?” He turned towards a short, feline demon with quirked brows. He sent Husk a playful, sultry smirk which the feline only growled softly at, before reaching into a fridge for a large bottle of water.

“Ya look like shit,” he grumbled, popping the cap off and chugging down the drink in one go. It seemed like the guy did that often enough for the contents to disappear so quickly, which was pretty impressive. Hopefully, he was going to pay for that drink too.

“Awww, thanks kitty!” 

The demons dispersed from their little group, scanning the shelves for any snack that would satisfy their hunger after that draining exercise. 

You watched through careful glances as they wandered about. There was no doubt the group of demons had noticed you by now, but there was nothing special to see as you just continued hefting boxes across the room. The last one, a large crate of soda cans, was giving you a rough time.

Strength waning, you huffed as you slowly walked towards the wall of fridges. Straining as you try to shift your grip, your arm placement is awkward with your round stomach making it difficult to get good positioning on the container. Panic seized you for a moment, as you fumbled with your hold.

“Let me help you with that!” A cheery voice exclaimed from beside you, causing you to jump right as the crate was lifted from your grip into the arms of the apple-cheeked woman. 

Charlie smiled brightly at you before she turned away, setting the crate down gently next to the fridge door. You fanned yourself, taking in a deep breath as the woman turned back to face you.

“I’m sorry,” you smiled apologetically, reaching up instinctively to brush a thumb gently over your bump, “heat and exhaustion are just not a healthy mix.” 

“That’s okay, it wasn’t a problem! And—oh my,” the demon’s eyes gleamed at your swollen stomach, her gaze soft, “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude but are you…?”

“Pregnant?” You tilted your head, smiling softly as a hand instinctively reached up to caress, “I am, yes.”

“Awe, I love babies!” Charlie swooned, placing a hand over her heart. “How far along are you?”

“About four months! I just moved here recently, are you from around here?”

“Yep! Just around the corner practically, right up the hill there’s that big hotel? I run it! It’s called the Hazbin Hotel!”

The Hazbin Hotel? Why did that name sound so familiar?

“And, these are all residents at the hotel!” Charlie smiled gleefully, sweeping a hand across the room as she gestured at her band of demons, “Some of them work for me, and some of them are my clients! The pink one is Angel Dust, the snake is Sir. Pentious, the grumpy fella over there is Husker, and the lady over there is Vaggie, my girlfriend!” 

Your head spun with the quick introductions, but you only listened thoughtfully as she spoke a few more words about her job. 

“That’s very interesting,” you finally said after she finished her sentence, “I’ll have to look it up sometime, I’m sure you're doing a great job. Hopefully, everything has been going well for you so far.” 

“I hope the same for you, too,” she smiled, eyes flicking down to your stomach for a moment before her head swiveled to get a look around the room, “…you don’t happen to have a bathroom here, do you?”

“We do! It’s in the back, I can take you there,” you smiled softly, before turning towards the back door and crossing the room. Charlie’s heels clicked against the old, cracking concrete behind you, as the two of you entered the back room. It was filled with boxes and other goods, and Charlie’s gaze bounced across the new scene with interest. 

The dimly lit room sent shadows across the two doors on the far end, and your hand slid across the wall close to you to find the switch. The lights flickered on, revealing the matching doors standing side by side, and you turned towards the demon woman.

“It’s right over there,” you gestured toward the doors, backing up slightly as Charlie nodded. She made her way towards the bathroom, hand raising to grasp around the doorknob, before twisting it firmly. 

Your breath hitched in realization right as she pulled the door open. That was the wrong door, that was your door! There was no telling how the woman would judge you after seeing the pitiful place you called home.

“Wait! That’s my—!”

“Oh!” Charlie exclaimed as she took in the makeshift living quarters, illuminated softly by the bulb above her head.

Her gaze flicked to the sunken mattress, lying against the hard cement floor. The small TV stacked on that aging microwave, and the piles of books created a makeshift nightstand, with a little reading lamp and retro alarm clock. The mini fridge hummed softly against another wall, hardly big enough to fit a few day's worth of meals in it.

Charlie’s eyes rested on the stacks of labeled boxes nestled tightly against the wall for maximum space, the only remnants of your old life. Her heart beat rapidly, as she took in the flood of information she was gathering about your situation as she stared silently. 

You only watched her expression with weary eyes, rubbing your hands soothingly as you waited for her words. Slowly, Charlie turned towards you, her gaze meeting yours and she read your expression carefully.

“You don’t actually live here, right?” She laughed in disbelief before her smile quickly faded when your face showed no signs of humor. 

“This is terrible! Especially with someone in your condition!” 

Condition? You weren’t helpless just because you were carrying some extra cargo around for a few more months.

“Don’t worry about me, It’s not that bad it’s just—”

You were cut off by the sound of your stomach growling, so loud it practically reverberated around the room. The pitiful noises were followed by slight pain, a sign of how dreadfully empty your tummy was. The noises of hunger made Charlie’s eyes widen and her brows furrow deeper.

“Are you hungry?” She asked slowly.

“Yes,” you stated bluntly, your tongue subconsciously wetting your parched lips. God, you were so hungry. All. the. time. 

It was miserable, having to limit yourself on all the mouth-watering goodies surrounding you. You just wanted to stuff your face, fill up your stomach, and then some. 

“Have you eaten anything today?” Charlie questioned, crossing her arms and shooting you a look of concern.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I get my paycheck tomorrow,” you answered quietly, averting the woman’s gaze as you gnawed at your lip. Embarrassment was bubbling in your chest, and tears were threatening to spill against you will.

You’ve never felt this… open with someone before, not in a long while. You were struggling direly, and now Charlie knew it too. And, revealing your financial situation to a customer you’ve just met? Alma would have your head! What were you thinking? 

Maybe, it was a subconscious cry for help. For some empathetic, kind soul to come swoop you off your feet into prosperity. 

But, you were in Hell, who would do something so selfless like that, for nobody like you?

Charlie bit her lip, breath quickening as her gaze darted from you to the thin mattress on the floor. She seemed antsy, like there were words behind her lips the woman was desperate to spill. Instead, Charlie only gulped them down, before her composure straightened and she sent you an awkward smile.

“Will you excuse me for just a second? I have to uhm, go talk to my girlfriend…” Charlie chuckled nervously, slowly backing away towards the front of the store, “I’ll be right back, don’t move!” 

You nodded obediently to the stern finger she waggled at you, before she pivoted and dashed towards the door at the end of the hall. Charlie wrapped a hand around an ash-gray arm, Vaggie jumped at her touch before she was dragged out of sight. The sounds of fast, hushed voices echoed to your spot in the dark.

Straining your ears, you tried to peep in on their conversation. With the way Charlie scrambled out of there, you were nervous about what exactly the two could be discussing around the corner. 

“We can’t just leave her here, Vaggie!” Charlie shook her head sternly, crossing her arms as she spoke to her partner. 

“Well, we can’t just take her back to the hotel. We don’t know the woman!”

“She’s pregnant with barely any food, and a terrible place to sleep! We can’t just do nothing!” The apple-cheeked woman growled, throwing her hands up as she paced in place near the freezers. The others on the other side of the room were too busy arguing over which flavor of ice cream was better to stop and listen in on the duo’s conversation. 

“I know,” Vaggie sighed, her brows creasing in frustration as she rubbed a hand down her face, mind racing, “I just don’t want to do anything that could put a wrench in your dreams, that’s all. We don’t know anything about her, she could bring trouble to our doorstep. There's enough of that as it is..”

“Nothing will happen, I promise,” Charlie replied softly, lacing her fingers with Vaggie, before soothingly brushing a thumb over her partner's knuckles, “We’ll just say she’s on… maternity leave! That way, she can have the baby stress-free, and then find a job either at the hotel or somewhere else. And, if any problems arise, we have Alastor to handle it.”

“Okay,” Vaggie nodded slowly, “If you think this won’t be an issue… then, I trust you, babe.” 

“Thank you, Vaggie.” Charlie smiled softly, “I haven’t told her yet. I just wanted to run it by you first, and figure out how to ask a stranger to, well, move in with strangers.”

You backed out of earshot, having gotten enough of the two’s words for your breath to quicken and your thoughts to spiral. Turning, you faced into your room, staring into space as you chewed absently on your lip.

They want to give you a place to stay, for free? No questions asked, just out of the kindness of their hearts?

You shook your head, a dry laugh of disbelief escaping your lips. That was impossible! This was Hell, and things like that never happened. You were born in Hell, and have practically seen it all when it comes to 

Murdering, whoring, and overdosing. That was Hell’s usual. Who was this woman, and what could she possibly have in store for you?

Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard the soft clicking of heels reverberate around the dimly lit room. You pivoted sharply, smiling innocently as your gaze met Charlie’s excited expression. She bit her lip nervously, before straightening her posture and clasping her hands together. 

“I know we only just met, but I would really love to offer you a place to stay. Something better than this, at least. We have large rooms with their own bathroom and little dining areas. It’ll be free! Plus, lounges, a kitchen, and a bar. Although, I’m sure you won’t be needing that anytime soon.” Charlie chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of her neck and she watched you intently. 

“Why would you do something like this for me?” You asked slowly, tilting your head as your fingers thrummed against your bump thoughtfully.

“Because when I see my people struggling, I don’t just stand by and let them. It’s my duty to help those in need.” Charlie placed a fist into her open palm, determination in her gaze and she spoke assertively.

‘My people’? ‘Duty’? What could she possibly mean about that? Such strange words coming from an even stranger woman before you, so desperate to hear your approval.

“I can definitely think about it…” you finally said softly, meeting her gaze after a moment.

“That’s a start! Here, take this, it’s my business card.” The woman patted down her pockets, before pulling out a small card from her pants, thrusting it excitedly towards you.

“I made them myself!” Charlie whispered, her eyes gleaming with pride as you stared down at the little writings across its surface. 

“I can call you tomorrow, with my answer,” you replied finally, slipping the card away for later. 

“Great! Thank you so much for considering! It’ll be worth it, I promise!”

A shadow loomed across the room, as Angel Dust poked his head into the doorway. He squinted into the darkness, before quirking a brow at Charlie’s figure.

“Ya comin’, toots? I’m hungry, and I deserve some R&R back at the hotel. ASAP.”

“Coming!” Charlie called, beginning to cross the room. She turned to face you, curving her lips into another bright smile as you stood there motionless. You didn’t say another word as she was consumed by the bright lights of the store, and you stayed frozen in place for a few more moments.

Your head spun, Charlie’s words still consuming your thoughts as you chewed at your lip. Just as you were about to head back to the waiting group, you heard grumbling from behind you, and the door to the back alleyway opened wide.

Alma ambled inside, returning from a friend’s business a few stores over. A large bag in her claws as she lumbered towards you, 

“I smell customers, are they Sinners? Ugh. Here, take this and put it in the freezer right away. I’ll go up front and get them out of here.” 

“Of course,” you replied, hardly listening while still untangling your racing thoughts. The box was changed to your arms, and you took it with a huff before lowering it gently next to the freezer.

You watched Alma enter the front of the store, chattering loudly to the group of demons you had acquainted yourself with as you pried open the box. Slabs of fresh meat were revealed underneath the thin, soaked red parchment shielding them. You wet your lips subconsciously, that ache in your stomach returning as you inhaled the flavorful, wafting scents.

Hopefully, you’d start craving something much more tasteful like ice cream or peanut butter.

Taking time to pack away the stacks of goods only kept your mind busy from Charlie’s offer. You still felt uneasy with her proposal, for all you knew, it could be a trick or some way to wrap you into a deal. There was no way someone like her existed in someplace like Hell.

That doubt still crept up your spine as you stood at the gates of her aging little hotel the next day, nestled on top of a small hill on the outskirts of the bustling city. Charlie’s handmade business card was clenched tightly in your hand, as your eyes read the address one last time before taking a deep, reassuring breath.

The hotel didn’t look too bad, in your opinion. An honest fixer-upper that would look really beautiful if done correctly. The colors were a little odd, not to mention the structure of the building was weird. Jagged even, as different parts jutted out from the center, your eyes traced the outline of what seemed to be… a boat? One that was nestled tightly against the outer walls of the hotel. The building seemed refined, like the owner before the apple-cheeked woman had good taste. Overall, if you did choose to stay here, it wouldn't be too bad of a place.

Except… why did it have to be on top of a hill?! Just the sight of the trek you were going to have to endure made your ankles start to ache, and you groaned, head thrown up in the air as your feet dragged up the cracked concrete path. 

‘Did these guys ever think of investing in a ramp?’ you groaned internally, wiping sweat from your brow as you continued the strenuous hike. If this were the kind of difficulties you were going to face throughout your pregnancy, you would have taken more laps around the block in preparation for this moment.

Sputtering for breath, and only halfway up, you rested for a moment with a huff. How many steps have you taken? To keep your shame, you refrained from counting as you continued the climb. Another two months, and this would be impossible, which made you deflate even more. 

You hated feeling so… helpless, useless, weak. People looked at you differently, as if you were the child, incapable of being able to support your own weight. Which was another reason you were resistant to the idea of moving here, you didn’t want to feel like a charity case–or a burden–to Charlie and her friends. Hopefully, you’d prove to them today there was more to you than the baby in your womb.

The final step up to the front doors was a hefty one, and you fought the urge to roll over in defeat on their doormat. You shot the cement path the finger, before turning towards the large oak doors. You squinted, trying to get a peek through the stained glass windows as you leaned in slightly.

‘Stop being so creepy and knock,’ you growled at yourself, before lifting a closed fist and rapping it against the sturdy, wood frame of the entryway.

Knock Knock

No response, but you waited patiently with clasped hands and a bright smile ready to go.

Knock Knock

You thought you heard shuffling behind the door, but still no response. You rolled your eyes in irritation, crossing your arms. It was getting hot out here and you needed somewhere to sit down. What kind of a hotel doesn’t greet their gues–

The large door opened slowly with a loud creak, revealing a tall, red demon. He was dressed rather formally, with a nice red tuxedo that hugged his figure perfectly. Large ears sat above his head, small antlers poking from bright red hair that framed his face. His lips were curved into a wide, toothy grin that made the hair at the back of your neck stand on end as you met his ruby-like eyes. They stared intensely into your gaze, as if reading every thought behind those wide eyes, partially shaded by that equally red monocle resting atop his cheek.

What was up with this guy and the color red?

“Can I help you?” He finally asked sweetly, static dripping from his voice, paired with a strange overlay that seemed to pour from his tongue as you watched him speak. It sounded as if he was speaking right through an aging microphone. With the door only partially cracked, you didn’t see much behind that large, charming smile of his.

“Hello, uhm, good sir! I’m looking for Charlie? She and I talked yesterday and–”

“Ohmygoshitsyoucomein!!” The words rolled off Charlie’s tongue just as she popped up right beside the smiling demon. She wrapped her hands around your forearms and pulled you through the threshold with a squeal. A gasp left your lips as you were dragged gleefully inside, and the door shut softly behind you.

For the next few hours, Charlie gave you a tour of the hotel while sharing her visions for the future. Dreams of happy days in Hell, and a second chance for the sinful. Sinners being redeemed and going to Heaven? Was that even possible? You didn’t know, and it didn’t really matter if they could, seeing as you weren’t one of them. 

You got better introductions to the residents, including new faces. Alastor, the demon from the front door, who welcomed you with that exotic voice and a humble demeanor that made you feel somewhat at ease. His voice seemed familiar though, reminiscent of horrible, violent rumors of a powerful demon on the prowl. One that scooped up Overlords and sent them to their doom. 

Why were people afraid of you being dangerous, when demons like Alastor resided under the same roof? He may have not looked at you with that same hunger he showed his enemies, but he still could send you six feet under in an instant. Which made your unease grow a little more, as you thought about the safety of your child.

Then, there was Niffty, the freaky little cleaning lady who had a constant itch to stab things. When she saw your baby bump, she lit up, rushing towards you with a skip in her step. You froze, watching the tiny woman approach you with a bashful grin.

“Can I touch the baby?” She sent you a puppy-dog stare through one large, glittering eye. Her arms were behind her back as she twirled innocently, a small, toothy smile on her lips.

“Oh, well, I don’t really mind,” you said softly, lowering yourself slightly so she could reach a hand up and place a warm palm on the fabric lying against your abdomen. She giggled softly as she rubbed your stomach tenderly for a few moments, as if she was petting your child directly through her soft touches.

“Do you have a name for it?” Nifty asked, lowering her arm back to her side.

“Not yet, but I’ll figure it out,” you had said, before turning your attention back to Charlie. Finally, the last stop of your little tour was getting a peek at one of the rooms you’d be staying in. Crossing a single hallway, the two of you stood in front of a dark, wooden door. With a twist of the handle, the apple-cheeked woman pushed open the door, and your breath stilled as you leaned through the threshold.

It was a rather large room, fully furnished to replicate a master bedroom. A bed, two dressers, a large wardrobe, even a small dining table with matching chairs on the other side of the room. You stepped into a white-tiled bathroom, taking in the large maroon bathtub and matching colored sinks. Everything looked clean, and honestly, the rooms didn't match the exterior of the hotel. There wasn’t much to complain about, other than some aging upholstery and building cobwebs.

You stepped back into the large bedroom, Charlie following your figure with a hitched breath as you circled the room again, inspecting it closely. You halted, silent for a few moments, before you pivoted to face the demon woman. 

“So, this is free? No strings attached?”

“Yep!” Charlie beamed.

“No secret legally binding agreement that I’m about to shake on?”

“Of course not!” 

“Well…” you started, brows furrowing in thought as you looked around the room. Charlie stared at you with apprehensive eyes, unable to read your expression as you considered your options, “I’d have to find a place closer to work, or figure out transportation from Alma’s”

“Work?” Charlie inquired.

“How else am I supposed to afford food and other necessities? I can’t just sit around all day waiting to pop!” You raised an eyebrow at the woman, 

“The point is you’re supposed to take it nice and easy until you’ve had your baby! Don’t worry, we’ve got plenty of food to go around. Plus, I’m sure we can find a place to buy some baby essentials, like diapers and a crib. Whatever you want!” Charlie argued, that smile never faltering as she tried to win you over with charm.

“You’re just going to spend money like that on me?”

“That’s right! Like I’ve said, I’m willing to do anything to support my people.”

“But… how can you afford that? Who are you?”

“I guess I haven’t told you, huh?” Charlie laughed nervously, before rubbing her neck with a sigh, “I’m not a big fan of telling people right off the bat, but my full name is Charlie Morningstar.” 

Morningstar? As in the royal family? Charlie was the daughter of the king of Hell, Lucifer Morningstar? Oh dear. This was a joke, right?

You felt your heart beat rapidly, and you placed a hand on your chest to calm its racing pace. The Princess of Hell was standing right in front of you like she was any normal demon, which was crazy. The fact you were standing in front

“Your Majesty!” You lowered your head quickly, averting your gaze respectfully.

“Please don’t!” Charlie shook her head, walking up to you, “I don’t want you to regard me any differently just because I'm royal and all. I just want to help you.”

Slowly, she lifted a hand, lacing her fingers gently with yours as she stared at you with pleading eyes. You could feel the truth in her words practically radiating from her as she waited for your answer, her tone the complete opposite of manipulative, and you bit your lip in thought.

‘Please, live here,’ you read through her glistening gaze.

“Okay,” you finally said softly, a smile slowly creeping onto your lips as you looked up at her.

“Really?” Charlie asked, her eyes lighting up as you nodded in response, and she bounced giddily in place, “This is great! I can’t wait to tell everyone! Oh, I am so happy you said yes. We’ll need a day to prepare, but you probably need a day to pack anyway. Oh! I almost forgot…”

Charlie filled your head with more chatter about what was in store now that you were studying, and you listened intently as the two of you strolled down the hallway back into the lobby. By the time you made it to the front door, your feet were sore from all the walking, and your eyes were tired and droopy as you munched on a sandwich Sir. Pentious had kindly made for you as you left the hotel. 

When you passed through the open front doors, you turned back to Charlie, and a few other demons behind her. 

“Thank you for being so kind to open up your home to me,” you said softly to the small group, “I’ll be back tomorrow with my things. Have a good day!”

“Bye!”

“See ya, momma!”

“Ssssstay hydrated!”

By the time you walked the block and a half to the dark purple store on the corner, the air had cooled considerably, and the walk wasn’t so bad this time. The fans were silent, hibernating for their next use as you walked across the cracked tile of the shop, your boss fussing with change behind the checkout counter as you approached.

“Leaving?” Alma had asked slowly when you finally dared to inform her of your decision. The demon was mid-count of the register, her long neck lifting so she could meet your gaze with a curious expression.

“Yes, someone offered me a place to stay until I have the baby,” you nodded, rubbing your arm soothingly as you spoke, watching her expression carefully, “I believe it would be in my best interest to take that opportunity. I’m sorry for the short notice, so you can keep my paycheck if you want. I’ll be out of here by tomorrow, probably.”

Alma squinted at you, deep in thought as one claw tapped absentmindedly against the cracked, wooden countertop. The turtle demon grunted, before lowering herself to reach underneath the register, pulling out a long piece of paper and setting it onto the counter. 

Dipping a claw in ink, Alma scribbled some numbers onto the paper, before signing her name below. Carefully, she lifted the parchment towards you, quirking a scaly brow at your hesitation. Extending a hand, you took the paper from her hold and turned it over. It was a check, with the remainder of your pay. Eyes widening, your head lifts to meet the old demon’s calm gaze.

“Take care of yourself, then,” Alma croaked, nodding her head slightly at you as she continued to count the cash register. A smile bloomed across your lips, and you quietly turned towards your room, excitement to be out of that cramped little room making you move a little faster as you began to pack your things.

“Alright, everyone. My dad is going to be here in… one hour.” Charlie smiled awkwardly, eye twitching slightly as her disheveled figure addressed the small group of demons inside the lobby of the hotel.

You sat on the couch, munching on a morning snack as she spoke. The small bowl filled with goodies rested atop your swollen belly, now larger since you moved in a while ago. Apart from the sudden dizziness and aching back, some good things came with being pregnant, like your personal little dining table in the shape of a watermelon. 

Sometimes, you’d practice balancing different items atop the growing swell. Cups, books, anything that gave you some entertainment now that were limited in physical activities–mostly declared by Charlie, but you didn’t complain too much–and stuck inside most days. To an outsider, what you were doing may have seemed weird or strange. But, seeing as they weren’t the ones lugging around a whole nother being, no one had room to talk about what you did for amusement.

Once, you even let Niffty build Jenga on top of your bump, as you lay comfortably out on the sofa in the lobby. The little structure tipped slightly on the unlevel surface, and you did your best to control your breathing to keep it from toppling over as she gingerly placed each rectangular block. Angel Dust had walked into the lobby, adorned in revealing clothes and cat-eye sunglasses. His features were exhausted and drained as he halted in his tracks at the sight.

“What are you two doin’?” He slowly asked, lifting the shades from his face as he watched with a perplexed expression.

“Angel~,” you called, lifting your head with a smile to meet his gaze, “Fancy playing a little bit of risky Jenga? We were just about to start.”

The spider demon seemed to want to reject the offer, before his eyes flitted across the empty room–save for the familiar bartender cleaning glasses–to the clock. It was about eight o'clock at night, a Friday, and the pornstar was trying to find any possible reason to stay inside tonight. For once, Angel Dust was party-pooped.

“Huska’, pour me a tall one, won’tcha? I gotta get in my zone,” He had called towards the bar, his golden tooth glinting as he shot you a sly, toothy grin. 

The next rounds encompassed you trying desperately not to laugh at the sensations of the game. After each block was expelled, it tumbled down your tummy and tickled at your skin. You clasped a hand over your mouth, holding in your laugh as your stomach twitched, and the small structure began to teeter.

“Hey! Watch it, mama,” Angel laughed, grimacing slightly as the Jenga tower jiggled again, “I’m about to win!”

Niffty giggled beside him as you kept your mouth covered, unable to say a word with the fear that your laughter would bubble up past your lips given the chance. You stilled yourself and regained composure, the blocks settled back into place.

“What if…” Niffty said, a mischievous grin on her face as she lifted a claw towards you. Your eyes followed her finger right as it reached your abdomen, and you tensed, trying to prepare for the inevitable.

“Niff!” Angel gasped with a glare, right as the small white finger poked you in the side. Even with her claw, the touch was like a feather against your skin and you had no control as you reacted to the ticklish feeling. 

“Nif—HA!” You had blurted with a snort, your body pitching forward slightly at the sensation. Your lips quivered into a clasped smile just as the blocks tumbled over, losing their balance on top of your bump. They slid across the floor, and you sat up quickly.

“That’s it, missy!” Angel Dust rose to his full height, pointing an accusatory finger at Niffty’s innocent expression, “You sabotaged me on purpose! You did this at UNO last night, and I won’t have it no longer!” 

Pivoting abruptly on his heels, Angel adjusted his tight outfit and pulled back his hair, before he turned his head towards the two of you.

“Goodnight, ladies! This star needs his beauty sleep!” He waved as he strutted away, leaving Niffty to clean up the mess and you to return Angel’s empty drink to the bar. 

That day had tested your limits on how useful the bun in your oven was as a food rest, and you stuck to small items after that. Such as the bowl in front of you that you were tiredly nibbling on as you watched Charlie pace in place, anxiety obvious on her features as she muttered to herself.

The others around you tensed, before they dashed off in different directions, breathing heavily as if whatever was to be done was extremely important. You turned your head, watching them flee in confusion. 

Then, Charlie’s words finally computed in your head, the morning brain fog waning as you slowly sat up. Blinking, you rubbed a hand down your face, rubbing the sleepiness from your features as you processed the information. 

Charlie’s father, Lucifer Morningstar, was coming to the hotel? In one hour? 

The king of Hell, the most powerful man in the realm. Whose face had long since disappeared from the public eye, when before it adorned every magazine and cover photo that one could buy. 

What was he to think of you, a nobody with a boring story and a baby on the way? 

You felt a slight nudge inside your stomach, your child softly prodding your side, maybe in an attempt to get you moving as you shot up from the couch. 

“Your dad is coming here right now?” You asked approaching Charlie, and she stopped in her tracks to face you. 

“Yes,” she nodded, biting her lip, “I haven’t seen him in years, and his opinion of the hotel isn’t the most optimistic.” 

It seemed like it was difficult for Charlie to speak about her father, as if her—as husk had put it—‘daddy issues’ made the topic of her familial relationships sour on her tongue. 

“He’s just going to come and visit? That doesn’t seem too bad, I’m sure the place will grow on him after a quick tour.” 

“He’s my only ticket to Heaven,” Charlie sighed, using a hand to rake her unkempt hair back, “Everything has to be perfect. We just need to clean a little, put some balloons up, 

“What does your dad like to eat?” You said after a few moments. 

“What?” Charlie stared at you with perplexity, tilting her head slightly with a quirked brow.

“Well, as you know I’ve been practicing in the kitchen a lot, learning to bake and all that, and I believe it would be a nice idea if we made something your dad enjoys. That way, he feels welcome and less apprehensive.”

That was true, you had started working in the kitchen daily ever since you moved to the hotel. With Charlie being so kind and offering for you to live there for free until your baby was born, and the fact your large bump made it difficult to do many physical activities, you decided to stick to something more hands-on and less strenuous. 

Surprisingly, it was actually quite fun. Most days, you’d flip through pages of recipes from a cookbook Alastor had loaned to you, looking for that one treat that made your mouth water and the little bean inside of you flip around in excitement. The kitchen inside the hotel was actually quite large, with multiple fridges and ovens with wide counters that wrapped around the room. 

You’d gather all the different ingredients, following the directions closely as you worked. Sometimes, your feet would be so sore you’d pull up a chair and listen to some music while you quietly cut cookies into various cute little shapes, before decorating them and handing them out to all the residents inside the large building. 

Except Alastor, who claimed to hate anything sweet when you stood before him in the lobby one afternoon.

“Thank you for the kind gift, my dear, but I seem to have been born without that fabled sweet tooth. Chocolates are not my cup of tea.” The charming demon had told you, politely waving off your outreached hand as you held a small brownie with a frown.

“So… what do you like?” Your arm lowered, and you stared at the brownie for a moment. The thought of putting it in your mouth instead was very tempting.

“Have you ever tried Jambalaya?” 

“I don’t think so,” you shook your head.

“Hm. Well, perhaps you can add that to your list of recipes to try? With all that work you’ve been putting into cooking, I'm sure it’ll be no difficulty for you to concoct.” Alastor had tilted his head thoughtfully at you, hand resting leisurely against his cane as he leaned against the bar’s counter.

You had sent him a warm smile, slightly surprised by his good words. He didn’t seem like the kind of man to give others praise over himself unless it benefited him. 

Conquering the kitchen was a little more difficult than you previously imagined, and the two charred ovens on the other side of the room were a testament to that. 

At first, the confidence in your work was pretty poor. Whenever Niffty or Charlie would ask what you were making, you’d simply smile bashfully and quietly state you were making treats. One time, you let Sir. Pentious take a bite out of your chocolate cheesecake, which ended in the snake demon lying splayed out on the floor from a sugar crash after he devoured the entire pan of it. 

Needless to say, after most of your new friends begged for more delicacies from your hand, you let your ego swell a bit at all the praise. Now, the Egg Bois were deemed your official taste testers and would huddle around your area as you let them lick the extra dough from your used bowl. 

“More!” They’d cry happily, indicating another successful batch of sugar cookies. 

Now, you hoped your skills had improved enough to sweep the king of Hell off his feet. 

“What does my dad like…” Charlie said after a moment, pulling you back to reality as she squinted her gaze, rubbing her chin in thought. 

You stood there silently, waiting for a response. For some reason, Charlie was having trouble recalling anything of value at first, muttering this and that. Does she really not know what kind of things her own father liked? How long has it been exactly since they had a proper conversation?

“Apples!” Charlie finally proclaimed, nodding at herself in approval, “My dad loves apples, can’t get enough of them, it’s even on the royal seal.” 

Apples, the only earthly fruit to find itself all the way down in the pits of Hell. Even the harmless produce got the heavenly treatment by the big guys upstairs, and would never be allowed through the pearly gates since The Fall. 

Being born in Hell, you never got to experience life like humanity above, but at least the one good thing was that Heaven didn’t get to enjoy the savory goodness that was the red fruit. 

They seemed to be a cultural treat back on the living plane and came in all kinds of varieties. Pie, cake, chips, juice, alcohol, syrup, cereal? Humans couldn’t get enough of the fruit! Was there even a combination left to create with the crisp, tarty goodness?

Wait… that’s it! 

“Apple tarts!” You blurted excitedly, clapping your hands.

“What?” Charlie asked as you moved forward, taking her hand in glee.

“I’ll make him some apple tarts! I’m sure that’ll improve his mood and be more agreeable to you! I’ve got to get to the kitchen though, see you in an hour!” You spoke quickly as you hurried off, Charlie trailing your figure with wide eyes.

As you slid into the kitchen, your hand immediately dug for your phone, as you quickly pulled up any five-star recipe for the tarted treat. Then, there was frantic mumbling coming from your left, and you lifted your head to see a large figure rummaging through a fridge. The demon’s tail lashed nervously behind him as he stuffed more ingredients into his arms.

“Sir. Pentious?” 

The figure pulled his head out of the fridge in surprise, hitting his head on the way out with a grunt before pivoting to face you. 

“Itssss you!” He breathed out in relief, holding a clawed hand to his chest as he regained composure.

“What are you doing here?”

“Why, I am baking cookies for His Majessssty!” He held out the small pile of items towards you, before slithering to a corner of the kitchen on the opposite side of you, “What about you?”

“Apple tarts! I guess we’ll see who’s he prefers, huh?” You called playfully as you bent down with a grunt to collect utensils and mixing bowls hastily. 

“Ah, yesssss. Nothing like a friendly competition in the heat of the kitchen.” Sir. Pentious chuckled nervously, as he continued to pull ingredients from the cabinets, just as you were doing the same.

You grimaced at the cooking time of the apple tarts, it was going to be very close, but you were set on this delicious goodness and a little apprehension wasn’t going to stop you yet.

As you worked, you heard the remnants of your friends preparing outside of the kitchen, somewhere in the lobby. Heavy footsteps reverberated across the tile as they hurried about, and the sounds of plastic stretching, like balloons being blown up and the soft screeching of tables being moved around followed soon after.

You did your best to ignore the background chatter, as you sat upon your cushioned stool, a knife in your hand as you began to thinly slice a few apples in front of you. The recipe was simple, some apple slices atop the pie crust smothered in honey, cinnamon, and sugar. You weren’t sure what kind of apples they–you assumed it was Alastor who did the shopping–had stored, but hopefully Lucifer would enjoy it nonetheless. 

Thankfully, you already had a few pans of pie crust premade for another recipe, and began to slather the sugary syrup onto the crust, your mouth watering as you arranged the apple crisps on top. Sir. Pentious fussed with an appliance across the room from you, hopefully, the poor guy hadn’t forgotten to preheat the oven while he was prepping.

After throwing the tarts into the oven you set the timer, watching the apples begin to sizzle and shrink slightly against the pounding heat. Taking a large swig of water, you grabbed a small spoon from the counter before sweeping it against the side of a used mixing bowl and turning towards your friend cleaning the dishes.

“Sir. Pentious!” You called, holding out a small spoon towards him. That honeyed goodness oozed slightly from the edge as you presented the snake demon with some of your cooking. He slithered forward, his eyes wide with interest as he stared at the mixture on the spoon, before gingerly taking it from your grip and inspecting it.

The demon didn't hesitate to part his lips and swipe his tongue across the sugary batter, before letting it swirl on his taste buds for a few moments. Slowly, his eyes lit up, and his lips curled into a large, fanged grin. 

“Mmm! It iss deliciousness!” Sir. Pentious melted in front of you, before placing the entire end of the spoon in his mouth and sucking on it like a lollipop. The snake turned, before plucking out a chunk of dough at the bottom of his used mixing bowl. 

“Ssssalmonella free!” He smiled, the doughy ball held out between two long claws extended towards you. Right, he probably doesn’t use eggs in his cooking. Especially so close to the Egg Bois, who worked near the sink to quickly wash the dirty utensils spread about Sir. Pentious’ station. You even noticed one or two running over to your work area, and grabbing used dishes to clean. You would have to thank them for that later.

Reaching out, you gingerly took the cookie dough before placing it between your lips and chewing softly. The flavors hit your tongue, and you perked at the intense, sugary taste of the dessert. Sir. Pentious had taken the classic route and baked some very delicious sugar cookies, and you licked your lips of any remaining dough.

“Very good! Save one for me after the party, hm?” 

“I sssuppose we are an even match, then!” Sir. Pentious declared, sending you a large smile before turning away to watch over his Egg Bois. 

You turned away, your eyes darting up to the clock as it ticked closer and closer to the new hour. Soon, Lucifer Morningstar would be here, and hopefully, your apple tarts would please the most powerful man in Hell. Was he as handsome as the magazines made him out to be? Your eyes had always traveled to his porcelain figure in the supermarkets, that sultry, playful gaze he shot the camera that practically beckoned you with a hot, invisible finger. 

The ethereal radiance he exuded even trapped inside that paper cover already made your cheeks warm and your skin tingle, you couldn’t imagine how you’d feel when he was standing right in front of you. Especially when it came to your recent increase in… passionate perspectives.

You shook yourself, attempting to rid your mind of such thoughts as you groaned into your hands. You sat on your stool, waiting quietly in the dimly lit kitchen for your treats to finish. The lobby had quieted down since you had begun, now more casual discussion along with rustlings of party decor being adjusted and preps of introductions. You paid the others' conversations no mind, deep in thought as you brushed a thumb across your stomach softly.

The timer suddenly rang loudly in your hands, and you jumped from your seat slightly at the noise in your palm. The small, white clock vibrated in your grip, and you rushed to reset the mechanism to end its cry. You looked up at the clock hanging on the wall once more, how long had you just been sitting there thinking about gorgeous men? Lucifer could show up any minute! 

Settling the timer gently atop the marble counter, you slid off the seat and reached for the oven mitts next to the sink. Striding to the oven, you pulled its door open, the rush of hot air hitting your cheeks.

‘Imagine being late to greet the king of Hell,’ you growled to yourself as your eyes snapped to the clock on the wall, the new hour finally arriving, ‘A great first impression, good going.’

The yummy goodness in your grasp sizzled as you pulled the pan from the oven, breathing in the delicious scents deeply before placing the metal dish on the top of the stove. Steam billowed off the golden-brown apple slices, the cinnamon mixture oozing slightly underneath the thin crisps of fruit. 

Hurriedly, you cut into the tart, slicing the pie-like treat into smaller slices before placing them gently onto a separate tray. By the time you threw the remaining dirty dishes in the sink and made your way to the door of the kitchen, you heard those familiar rasps against the hotel’s front door. 

Knock Knock

You halted in your tracks right when Charlie swung open the front door to reveal a handsome, pearlescent figure bursting in to wrap his arms around his daughter. Those platinum blonde locks bounced softly underneath his tall brim hat, as he settled beside his daughter as they chatted. You were unprepared for those soft, yellow eyes that swept across the room with a playful glint in their gaze, or the confident, charming smirk that seemed so natural on the fallen angel’s features. 

That air of superiority radiated from Lucifer’s figure, with every demon in the room aware of the raw power he possessed. Those tantalizing stories of a ruthless and blood-thirsty ruler of Hell who crushed anyone who so much as sent him a heated glance refreshed in everyone’s memories as they smiled widely. The fallen angel hadn’t stayed in such a sought-after position since Hell’s creation for no reason, as only Heaven could match his strength. 

Lucifer made no show of the deadly undertones in his proximity, however, as he strolled farther into the lobby with a relaxed grin as Charlie introduced him to Angel and Sir. Pentious. The king’s looks were only improving every step he took closer towards your spot hiding behind the kitchen door, your breath hitching as you traced his figure from the cracked doorway. The tarts weren’t the only thing in the room making your mouth water anymore.

Should you just stay in here until he goes away? Mail the tarts to him, instead? Surely, meeting you wasn’t that important, and there was always a next time to introduce yourself. Inhaling a sharp breath, you shook your head to ease your nerves and expel those anxious thoughts. You were no coward, and even the prettiest face in Hell wouldn’t stop you from handing Lucifer the bakery sweets.

“I guess that’s why they called it the Has-Been Hotel, eh?” You heard Lucifer laugh from across the room, and you poked your head out from the doorway. 

Eavesdropping into the conversation for a few more moments, you gripped the small tray in your hands tightly as you waited for the perfect time to make your sneaky entrance. Right when his eyes left the place near Husk you were planning on scooching into, you took your chance and hurried across the lobby. 

Everyone’s eyes were on Lucifer and Alastor bickering, and it didn’t seem like anyone noticed as you slipped next to the shorter feline. That was until you felt the side of your stomach connect with the table's edge, and it slid slightly with a sickening screech. You clamped your mouth shut to stop a frustrated curse from leaving your lips as you tensed.

Curious gazes locked onto your figure, and the tray in your hands slowly lowered onto the table as you felt sweat bead down your forehead from the unwanted attention. The plan was to be as low-key as possible when you joined the group, not be thrust into the spotlight! 

Lucifer turned, his gaze landing on your stomach before anything else, and your breath hitched as his eyes lit up with an unreadable gleam. The king traveled up your figure, before resting on your face, and his eyes seemed to widen even more as he stared for a moment.

Gosh, how embarrassing. If he decided to burst out laughing at your clumsiness or make a public spectacle of your interruption, maybe it’s something you deserve—

“Woah!” Lucifer suddenly perked, before leaning backward, squinting his eyes as if he just got hit by a harsh ray of angelic light, “Someone tell Heaven they dropped one of their halos down here….” 

A pair of sunglasses materialized between his fingers as the fallen angel shimmied past Charlie, and you watched with wide eyes as he practically leaped over the table to reach your figure at the other end. 

“Because you are glowing, mama!” The king slid right up next to you, lifting the shades from his face as he waggled his eyebrows with a devilish smirk. Heat crept across your cheeks, and you smiled bashfully at his antics. Lucifer Morningstar was right next to you, and even so, up close you couldn’t find a single imperfection on his features. 

The demons around you blurred as you and Lucifer locked eyes for a few moments longer, the expressions flicking through your gazes enough to cover the silence. Lucifer’s smirk turned into a soft smile as his eyes flicked to your stomach then back to you with an adoring glimmer, his features gentle as he lifted a hand out towards you.

“Please,” you laughed softly, tilting your head away to try and hide the heat that was practically pouring off your face as you slid your fingers into his palm, “That’s just a fairytale, I’d say the truth of my appearance is the opposite right about now.”

The warmth radiating off of Lucifer’s porcelain skin made you want to melt like butter. You felt the ache in your joints subside softly, along with the feeling of bliss from his touch that made goosebumps ripple across your skin. 

“No, seriously,” Lucifer’s grin widened, patting your hand softly, “Even I am envious of your glow, sweetheart. You look great.”

You resisted the urge to scream into your hands like some kind of lovesick teenager at his words. Geez, you barely said a few sentences to this guy and he’s already trying to rizz you up. And it was working! 

“Thank you,” your voice cracked softly, and Lucifer gripped your hand tighter as he lowered himself slightly in a bow.

“Lucifer Morningstar!” He smiled as he met your graze once more, tipping his hat slightly as he spoke, “I’m sure you already know who I am, though, as do most who see my face. The question is, who are you?” 

That soothing warmth on your skin disappeared as Lucifer slowly released your hand and took a step back. You lowered your arm back to your side, silently pining for his soft touch against the fallen angel. 

“Oh, enough about me!” You wave off his question with a large grin, attempting to change the conversation, “You’re the special man we’re all gathered here for today!” 

Averting your gaze, you reach down towards a slice of apple tart on the tray nearby. The dessert is still slightly hot, and the heat that greets your skin followed by an itch of pain helps keep your focus in front of such a tasty snack. You were not talking about the tart.

Lucifer looks at it for a few moments, steam still slightly wafting from the golden-brown crisps of apples as you hold it towards him. The scents of cinnamon and honey hit the fallen angel’s nostrils, and he licked his lips subconsciously, eyes still locked onto your hand.

“What is this?” He quirked a brow, gaze flicking to the warm smile on your lips then back to the dessert.

“An apple tart,” you reply, your arm stretching farther towards him, “I heard a rumor that our ruler fancied red fruits, so I thought I’d welcome him with a snack.” 

Slowly, Lucifer lifted a hand and took the tart from your grasp. He turned it in his hands for a moment, before lifting it to his lips and taking a deep breath. The fallen angel sent you one last unreadable look before he placed the tart into his mouth. 

You licked at the crumbs on your fingers, savoring the little bit of flavor you received. Indulging yourself in food in front of the guy you were currently ogling over wasn’t on the top of your to-do list. You’d stick to satisfying your cravings in the privacy of your room. 

Lucifer chewed for a few moments, before he squinted in thought. He swallowed slowly, and then his eyes lit up with a surprised, but joyful, gleam. A smile bloomed across his lips as he reached over next to you to grab another of the pie-like treats.

“Okay, wow. I’m impressed. I might hire you as my personal baker from now on,” another tart was consumed by the king, as he licked hungrily at the cinnamon mixture that was dribbling down his chin. 

He seemed to be really enjoying them, which made you giddy inside. One, because Lucifer was enjoying your food, and two, because that would mean he was in a good enough mood for Charlie to convince him to get an audience with Heaven. 

“Dad,” Charlie finally broke the conversation between the two of you, before settling at your side. She put a gentle hand on your shoulder as she continued to speak, “This lovely lady was having a rough time with her living situation, so I offered her a place to stay while she was still expecting. She’s been a great addition to our little Hazbin family. Now, she’s taking it easy until the baby comes.” 

“That’s a good idea,” Lucifer nodded in agreement through the apple tart he was stuffing his face with. 

“I’m not completely useless,” you quickly interjected, clasping your hands together, “I help out around the hotel in any way I can, or however Alastor can use my assistance.”

“Right…” Lucifer shot Alastor, who was watching the three of you with interest a few feet away, a sharp glare as he spoke, “Your… manager over there isn’t pushing you too hard, is he?”

What was that? It sounded like Lucifer had held in a growl when he asked that, you could feel the reverberations from his throat underneath his tone. 

“Alastor has been nothing but kind to me, everyone here has. His Majesty is too kind to care for me like this. Don’t worry, I haven’t done anything that could affect me or the baby.

“Well, that’s a relief,” Lucifer said, as picked up the last tart from the tray.

The king’s gaze rested on you as you looked at the tart longingly, your stomach growling softly as you imagined the treat between your teeth. You had eaten breakfast, had a snack before Lucifer’s arrival, and had some cookie dough from Sir. Pentious, yet you were still hungry? Where was your self-respect in front of the most important figure in the realm?

Lucifer must have noticed your hungry gaze, as he split the tart apart and handed a small piece towards you. You stared at it for a moment, before shaking your head and gesturing silently for him to eat it while you heard Charlie conversing quickly with Vaggie nearby. 

The king didn’t let you refuse, when he squinted his eyes at you with a stern look and pushed the tart closer to your face, to where it was almost grazing your lips. 

With a sigh, you send him a warm smile in thanks and reach for the tart. It crumbled slightly in your hand and you quickly shoved the whole thing into your mouth, lifting a hand to shield your immodesty as you chewed softly. 

Fuck, that tasted so good. Your time in the kitchen has improved your skill as you happily continued chewing down the dessert, a content smile on your lips as you stood next to Lucifer.

“Just make sure not to let that creep over there make you do anything you don’t want to do,” Lucifer held a hand up to hide his mouth from the onlookers, shielding the quiet words that left his lips, “If you ever need me to smite him…” 

“Dad!” Charlie gasped, shooting her father a stern glare. 

“A joke, a joke,” Lucifer chuckled, elbowing his daughter softly in the side before turning away from you. 

It was then that the chandelier above everyone’s heads swayed dangerously, the rusting bolts loosening slowly from their hold against the thick plaster. You heard a soft creaking sound before your head shot up just as the bolts dislodged from their place and the large light fixture came crashing down.

It landed a few feet away from you, as glass shattered and splayed across the floor. You jumped in surprise, your hand automatically coming up to shield your stomach and Lucifer’s head snapped towards you in concern. You hadn’t been hurt, but his eyes still traced your figure for any injuries before he gave the chandelier a stink eye.

“Alright then,” Lucifer chuckled, and you watched with wide eyes as he slid from your side the floor beneath your feet shifted as he began to… sing? You backed away to the edge of the wall just as the fallen angel began to address his daughter, showcasing his magical talent as different objects poofed in and out of existence.

You had watched with wide, awe-struck eyes during the sudden musical number, your thoughts still on Lucifer's warm, gentle touch and his praise only moments before. Why was he so kind and out of the gate, was it because of your pregnancy? 

Did the king of Hell have a soft spot for babies, or did he take pity on your exhausted, worn figure? Even baking was becoming a chore, and standing on your feet for so long was beginning to wear down on you. Thankfully, the attention was finally off you now that Lucifer and Alastor were practically at each other's throats again. 

Did it matter what Lucifer thought of you? His attention alone made your thighs ache, and staring into those pretty eyes for too long made your lips dry and cracked and needed someone to wet them with their own.

Jesus, get it together! You just met the man, stop being such a weirdo! 

When you finally were pulled back into reality, blinking away the stars of hot emotions that were dancing on the edge of your vision, the music had ended and a strange, short woman had burst through the front doors of the hotel.

Mimzy, that was her name, and apparently a friend of Alastor’s back from their living days on Earth. You didn’t know Alastor had friends outside of the hotel, let alone friendly enough to embrace the woman. Even with all those nasty rumors about the red demon, Mimzy only looked at him with a playful glimmer in her eyes as she turned to get a look at the rest of the group. 

When she approached you with giddy steps and batted eyelashes as she grinned at your figure relaxing on the bar stool across the room. 

"Aw, suga, that baby bump of yours is just precious! I’ve neva’ seen one so adorable before! Who’s the lucky man?” Her eyes quickly scanned across the room, as if your baby daddy was hiding somewhere among the few pieces of furniture inside the large room. 

“Not here,” you replied with a sigh, “Never will be, unfortunately. He and I had some… disagreements a while ago. I haven’t seen him in months.”

Lucifer watched you carefully, drinking in your words with an unreadable expression from a distance before Charlie dragged him away to continue the tour around the hotel. 

"Aw, darlin', that's a tough break. But forget that fella! You're better off without him, sweetheart. Plenty of strong mamas out there held their own just fine. Down here in Hell, it's rough, but you don't need no man to look after you! Keep on keepin' on, hun."

You averted Mimzy’s gaze at her words with a bashful smile. Doubt had always itched at the back of your scalp, doubts of whether you were doing everything right and when you had the baby if you could be okay on your own. Now, you felt a surge of renewed confidence in how good of a mother you could be. The strange woman was right of course, you didn’t need a man to have a stable life. 

But, you still yearned for someone to caress you softly late at night, or whisper sweet words of adoration and care when you desperately needed it most. A man to kiss and cherish for the rest of your life, and someone who would love your baby as their own. 

Mimzy was loud and obnoxious as you sat next to her at the bar, but you assumed that’s what she did for a living, drawing people in with her charm to stay for drinks and watch her dance. Her job was to wow the crowd enough for them to give her and her flapping sisters big tips and lots of company.

She wasn’t too bad of a story-teller either, and as you and a few others listened to her story of Alastor’s interactions with previous overlords, you caught the way Husk growled when he spoke to her and how he’d shoot her icy glares whenever nearby. As if she was a rattlesnake ready to bring trouble, and only he could hear the warnings from her tail. 

You understood the suspicion the feline bartender was holding towards Mimzy when a large hole suddenly blew through the wall opposite from the bar, and harsh, angry voices snarled the flapper’s name. 

Adrenaline shot through your veins as you jumped from the bar stool, your first thought instantly going towards your baby. That maternal, animalistic urge to protect your child’s wellbeing at any cost, even if it meant sacrificing some of your own.

As your friends rushed around the room in a panic, and Alastor met the murderous loan sharks head-on outside, you locked eyes with Mimzy cowering underneath one of the bar stools. 

“I’m sorry, I just needed to get them off my back!” She grimaced as another explosion rocked the lobby, and you stumbled backward as debris from the ceiling fell across your shoulders. 

Your head snapped across the room, and you saw Alastor’s large demonic figure taking the brunt of the loan shark’s attacks. Tentacles whipped around him as they smashed a few snarling demons into a pulp against the ground. The thug’s aims weren’t very accurate, and some grenades bounced right past the giant demon’s figure and straight toward the hotel. 

Luckily, nothing had reached the inside of the building yet, but you weren’t going to take any chance as you turned on your heel towards the closed door of the kitchen. It was on the farthest side of the lobby and provided a large catalog of items you could use for self-defense.

If the time came when you had to cheese-grater a man across the face or make a kabob out of his eye, you had the tools to do so. 

As you moved, you turned your head to scan for the others still in the room. Sir. Pentious was slithering to cover behind a couch, Niffty tight in his hold as she lowered his head out of sight. Husk was somewhere behind the bar no doubt, and Angel Dust was poking his head out behind the large gap in the wall, cheering on Alastor’s bloodlust. 

Lucifer, Charlie, and Vaggie were still unaccounted for, most likely somewhere on the opposite side of the hotel by now. There wasn’t a doubt that the three of them heard all the chaos, but would they get here fast enough to lend a hand? Alastor was powerful, but he couldn’t be in two places at once if one or two thugs decided to take the fight inside. 

Right now seemed to be a really nice time to put that pure angelic power to good use!

Your ears rang loudly, heart pounding, right as you reached the kitchen door. You wrapped your fingers around the handle and pulled on it harshly. Except, the door didn’t budge. Again, you pulled on the handle, grunting with effort right as the floor shook beneath you. Your side harshly hit the door as you stumbled forward, before inhaling a sharp breath. 

You were stuck, the door behind you locked tight. 

Had the door locked from the inside when you had left earlier? You didn’t remember closing it, but perhaps the musical shenanigans from before blew a strong enough gust of wind to shut it tight. 

Your eyes darted across the room, looking for any other place to run that could give you even an ounce of protection. Unfortunately, you weren’t flexible nor small enough to actually fit inside or behind anything for cover at the moment, which limited your options. 

A loan shark cried out for help right outside the gap in the wall, a tentacle wrapped around his meaty legs as he harshly yanked him backward. The demon’s high-pitched scream faded as he was flung over the black gates and off into the distance.

Your gaze lowered, catching sight of a grenade from one of the few remaining thugs bouncing right off Alastor’s back, and colliding with a large boom against the hotel’s roof. The ceiling shook, pieces of plaster falling from the sky as you ducked to try to avoid them. Angel Dust dove behind the bar, beckoning you from across the room to join him and Husk as they lay low against the tile. 

Did they think you could actually run across the room before another explosion hit the hotel?

You didn’t have a chance to join them anyway, as a large support beam above your head shook violently, before the wall crumbled around the long, wooden post and it began to dislodge from its fasteners. 

Before one could blink, the beam began to fall from its place against the ceiling, its trajectory aimed right on top of you. Angel gasped and placed a pair of hands on his face, shielding his eyes from your doom. Husk only stared in horror, mouth agape as the large object descended upon you.

Backing against the kitchen door, you shielded your head and curled your legs against your stomach. 

‘This is it, I'm a goner,’ you thought as you squeezed your eyes shut tightly, waiting for the blow. 

Except, it never came. Nothing happened, actually. The deafening sounds of chaos and war around you faded slightly, as if you placed a pair of headphones over your head. You didn’t feel the sting of pain, or the sound of the large beam crashing to the floor. 

You were still alive, that was for sure with how hard your heart pounded against your chest. 

Slowly, you lifted your head and cracked an eye open, a golden light blinding you for a moment as your pupils adjusted to the ethereal glow. A dome of energy crackled around you, casting a mesmerizing golden hue across your figure. The thick walls of energy around you aren’t completely opaque, and you can see the lobby in shambles, but your little area under the bowl is completely intact. 

Taking a deep breath, you relax slightly and slowly stand from the door, the sounds of chaos still audible as you hear another explosion and screaming thugs.

“Look, Charlie,” Lucifer’s chastising voice rose above the chaos, his head turning from you to his daughter as another support beam crashed beside them, “What did I tell you? This is what happens when you invite people in and be kind to them… nothing but trouble! You should still stick to helping people that actually need it.”

Your head turned, watching Lucifer lean lazily against his cane as Charlie scrambled around the room trying to help the others. His back was turned to you, but seeing you were sealed in a practically indestructible barrier while he continued to yap, your safety was guaranteed now.

Finally, Alastor swallowed up the last of the thugs, the large demon licked his blood-stained chops before slowly shrinking back into his original form. Dust still swirled around the lobby, but the explosions had ceased, and anything that was in danger of falling had already done so. 

The dome of energy surrounding you flickered out of existence, any trace of its magical essence vanishing as you took a tentative step forward. The intensity of the light made your head ache, and you rubbed your temple with a groan. 

“Are you okay?” Lucifer asked softly, coming up to stand beside you, his fingers wrapped around your arm tight as you steadied yourself.

“Yes, just a little dizzy, I’m fine now,” you turned to stare at the fallen angel with an assuring smile, right as his eyes scanned across your face, only for his brows to furrow at the sight.

“Wait, you’re bleeding,” Lucifer tensed, before his cane dropped beside him and his fingers slid down to your wrist, and he turned your hand over palm-up. On your index finger was a small cut, which oozed with a thin trail of black blood, before dripping onto the carpet below. 

Lucifer dug into a pocket inside his white overcoat, before pulling out a hand-embroidered handkerchief. He reached up to your forehead, gently brushing the fabric against your skin to clean it.

You must have smeared some blood on your face when you had previously rubbed it, that’s why he was so worried. There was no pain from the wound, and you had no idea where it had even come from.

“It’s just a scratch,” you assured, not pulling away from Lucifer’s hold on your hand as he dabbed softly at your forehead. 

That warmth bloomed from his touch again, sending a shiver up your spine and your eyes to droop placidly. It’d be a lie if you said you weren’t exhausted from everything that had happened today, and that energy he exuded only feeding the urge to cozy up on the sofa a few feet away.

“Better safe than sorry” he retorted, worry dripping from his voice as he tore off a clean piece of his handkerchief, wrapping it around your finger before tying it taut against your skin. His fingers still lingered against your palm, as the two of you stood there around the demons trying to pick up the place a little.

“I’m guessing you’re the one that put that barrier around me, hm?” You asked with a soft smile. 

“Well, I didn’t expect to walk into the room with you about to be impaled by a giant wooden stake. It was pretty crazy for a moment there… is the baby okay?” 

The fact he was also worried about your child made you gush silently, swooning harder for the fallen angel than before. 

“Fine,” you nodded, reaching a free hand to gently caress your bump, “I felt them moving a bit when you came over.”

The baby had been quite active recently. Doing backflips, karate kicks, and whatever else there was for entertainment inside your womb. Earlier, when you were baking, you took a painful jab to the side by the little one, and that wasn’t the first time today.

It was then that you felt it, a kick against your inner walls, causing you to jerk slightly from the surprise of it. Lucifer jumped from your reaction, and you sent him a large grin with wide eyes as you curled your fingers around his hand. 

“They’re moving right now, even!” You perked, gently tugging his arm towards you with giddiness. Nobody has ever felt your baby kick before, a privilege usually reserved for parents or the child’s father. You had neither of those now, so if it meant showing a stranger the same feelings of softness you experienced? So be it.

Lucifer tensed, frozen in silence from your bold actions as you placed his hand against the fabric of your outfit. You still for a few seconds, the fallen angel’s warmth on your stomach welcoming as you waited for the baby to move again. 

Luckily, they did, right against the king’s hand against your bump. He hitched a breath as soon as he felt the sensation of your little one’s movements, his eyes widening with fondness.

You smiled widely, your bump growing ticklish at the feeling of your child’s restlessness. Then, you felt something odd going on against your abdomen, and you lowered your head with wide eyes as the tip of Lucifer’s finger began to glow. A soft, golden light that sizzled at your fabric, before it seemed to seep underneath and into your skin.

It felt like someone was pouring caffeine directly into your bloodstream, the exhaustion dissipating from your mind in an instant and your heartbeat quickening. The painful throbbing in your ankles subsided, and you felt renewed energy even deep in your bones. 

The light seemed to grow across your bump, and the strange magic that was flooding your senses suddenly had your mind racing. Could it be hurting your child? 

“What are you doing?” You asked quietly, taking a nervous step backward away from his touch.

“What..? Oh!” Lucifer’s hand retracted to his side in an instant, his lips curving into an apologetic smile as he averted his gaze. He seemed nervous all of a sudden, eyes darting across the room before they landed on Charlie brushing dust off of Vaggie’s hair across the room. 

“My apologies, have a wonderful rest of your night,” The king of Hell tipped his hat to you, refusing to meet your gaze as he backpedaled and pivoted sharply away from you, and began strolling towards his daughter who turned to him with a frown. 

Your stomach twisted at his sudden exit, regret bubbling in you. Did your question come off as too confrontational? Lucifer didn’t exactly ask for your permission to do… whatever he did, so it wasn’t wrong to react the way you had. 

Watching Lucifer leave for a few moments, you sighed softly, hands rubbing together in a soothing motion. Looking around the room, you searched for something to busy yourself with as your mind continued to race. 

That was the last time you had spoken to Lucifer for the rest of the night, his sudden departure after reconciling with Charlie leaving you to stew silently with your thoughts. 

Would you meet the king again? You desperately hoped so.

Your thoughts stayed on Lucifer even after you awoke the next morning, and the morning after that. Thoughts of his gentle touch, his strange behavior, and the way his magic had filled you with such strength. 

You felt renewed vigor after that sweet encounter with the king. It was like getting shot with a dose of ibuprofen and adrenaline all at once. The soreness in your ankles subsided, the strain on your back lessened, and you felt, dare you say… lighter on your feet?

Was that what angelic magic was capable of? Lucifer’s touch felt like nothing you had ever experienced before, at least compared to some of the other demons in the hotel.

Alastor’s magic was freezing to the touch, and whenever he was visibly displaying his power in the vicinity, you began to notice how your breath fell from your lips like fog. The Radio Demon’s aura played with your fight or flight instincts, putting you on the edge whenever his smile sharpened, those spots in your vision filled with strange symbols as he shot predatory eyes towards enemies of the hotel. 

Fear was the driving force behind Alastor’s power, the elixir to spur that blood-lust in his veins. A similar feeling itched at the back of your scalp anytime Angel Dust returned from Valentino’s studio, the stench of an emotionally driven display of dominance that always led to someone curling against the cold, hard floor in anguish. While you held no reservations for the pleasant-speaking, red demon, you still regarded him with caution at the amount of trouble he could bring into your life at any moment. 

Charlie had a lot of potential for being half-angel, the same magical essence that flowed through Heaven also flowed through her veins, mixed with the demonic presence imbued into her parents when they fell. It made you feel uneasy, being surrounded by such powerful forces with a child on the way.

Except, Lucifer’s aura was much different. It made you feel… grounded, and safe, like you could conquer the world. A boost of confidence with a hint of child-like giddiness that made a soft smile grace your lips the entire rest of the day.

That soft, golden magic that spread across your skin made warmth bloom through your body and sent pleasurable tingles up your spine. It eased the strain in your muscles and settled your nerves like a refreshing sip of red wine after a long day, making you dizzy for more. Even though you were the one to pull away first, that desire to get closer to Lucifer again didn't fade the rest of his visit. Which only made you frustrated at your own chaotic emotions.

Growling, you inspected your appearance in the bathroom mirror, steam coiling around your face as the plush fabric of the towel soothed your soaked, heated skin as it dried the water dripping from your figure. 

Curse these pregnancy hormones, for making you think such disrespectful thoughts! He was the king of Hell, not some pretty dilf with a thing for babies that made heat creep across your cheeks–and in between your thighs–without a second thought.

“I blame you for this,” you shot a glare down to your bump, before exiting the bathroom with a huff and reaching your dresser.

You began to change in an outfit for the day, which was taking much longer than usual now that your stomach was growing rounder by the day. It was obvious you were close to your due date, and that filled you with joy and anxiety.

Joy, to be finally holding your baby into your arms and letting them snuggle against your warm chest. Communicating through soft lullabies and whispers with the only response being kicked to your bladder wasn’t exactly the thrills of your pregnancy. When you finally had the little bean in your life, you’d do everything you could to spoil them rotten. 

Your baby wasn’t exactly a ‘little bean’ anymore, but until you settled on a name, that was what you would continue to call them. 

Thoughts about your baby always made your anxiety spike, thinking about what you would have to do to bring your child into the world. Labor wasn’t pretty in any realm, and the exhaustion and pain that would come with it wasn’t something you liked to think about too often. 

What would happen if something went horribly wrong? Who… who would take care of your child? 

You only sighed as you finished dressing, slipping on comfortable footwear as you crossed your room towards the hallway door. The trek from your room to the lobby had become quite a strenuous one, since you slept across the hotel from everyone else. 

When you had first arrived, you still dealt with the occasional twisted stomach, especially after your nose began to identify once delicious smells as revolting to the point you were gagging just smelling a once beloved candle. 

At your request, Alastor had found you a room with a small balcony that faced away from the city. It was the cleanest air, and smelled the least sulfury as that side of the hotel was hit with large drafts of fresh—or whatever was close enough in a place like Hell—air that you welcomed on days where you felt like emptying your last meal constantly.

Now, the long walk was killing your ankles, and the staircase conveniently placed between you and the lobby made your path even longer when you had to slowly waddle down the stairs. You haven’t come close to slipping yet, but seeing as you couldn’t see your feet any longer, it would surely happen eventually. 

As the door to your room shut softly behind you, the plush carpet beneath your feet felt refreshing to your swollen appendages as you began strolling down the hallway. Yawning, you rubbed the remaining sleep from your eyes as you closed in on the staircase. Since waking up, an exhaustion deep in your bones had been plaguing you. Today, the only thing on the to-do list was to watch the newest episodes of ‘Hell’s Greatest Bachelor’ and sleep.

“What are you doing up there?” A familiar voice called from the bottom of the staircase, sending you a stern stare as he leaned against his cane.

You stopped, one foot hovering just above the first step as your head shot up and eyes widened as Lucifer stared at you with furrowed brows. What was he doing here? When did he get here, and why did you choose today to wear something comfy and casual? 

Was he still upset about what happened last time?

“My King? W-what are you doing here?” 

“I believe I asked you first. What are you doing all the way up on those steps?” 

“Does His Majesty now quarrel with the stairs?” You teased, trying to contain a playful smile. Whenever you were in the fallen angel’s presence, you almost caught your lips curving into a goofy grin that was paired with heated cheeks.

It seemed Lucifer was in much better spirits today, his demeanor more playful than stern, and you sighed softly with relief. 

“No!” The king huffed, before placing his black-heeled boots onto the plush, red carpet of the staircase and slowly made his way up to you, “What I quarrel with is someone trying to kill themselves! Do you know how dangerous this kinda thing is in your condition?”

There’s that word again, ‘Condition’. As if it is some illness that has befallen you and taken the use of your legs and critical thinking skills. Maybe it was just your emotions getting the best of you, but you really hated that word. 

“I asked Alastor to put me over here, these windows have the best airflow” you shrugged, taking another step down the staircase which Lucifer only grimaced at.

“Stop moving, let me get to you,” Lucifer growled softly, watching you with unease before leaping up the final steps to your waiting figure.

He halted at a step just above you, and for the first time, you had to look up to meet the king’s gaze.

“I’m pregnant,” you squinted slightly, sending Lucifer a small glare as you frowned, “Not handicapped.”

“I know, I know…” Lucifer lifted an elbow to you, a gentle beckon for you to take his arm as he spoke, “But it’s always good to be a little extra careful! It’s not like I'm bothered doing this kind of thing for you, anyway.”

“You’re the king,” you take his gesture, sliding your arm around his as you lock elbows, warmth radiates from his touch and you relax slightly, “It’s demons like me who should be waiting on you like this.”

“I’m Lucifer Morningstar,” he puffed his chest slightly, quirking a playful brow at you, “I don’t need anyone to wait on me, because I can do it all with a snap of a finger.”

You rolled your eyes with a smile as he guided you down the stairs, silence following his proclamation. It was quite a long staircase and stole your breath most times you tried to climb it. Hopefully, this daily exercise would mean your next match with the cracked concrete path down the hill outside would be in your favor.

Lucifer’s hold on you was gentle but firm, as he used his other hand to softly tap his cane against each step. It was rhythmic, with purpose, and you thought in the silence of the large room you could hear him humming a soft tune, as he stared off in the distance.

“What are you singing?”

“I was singing something?” Lucifer perked, before he sent you an apologetic smile. 

“I don’t mind it,” you replied with a soft smile, turning your head to meet his gaze, “Your voice is very… pretty.” 

His eyes widened, face flushing slightly at the words that left your lips, which also caught you in surprise. Sure, you had gushed about his voice for the past three days, but you didn’t expect to be so blunt about it. Especially, when it was to the adult crush’s face!

“You think so?” 

“Yes,” you batted your lashes at him, hold tightening around his arm as you continued down the steps, “You have a very velvety, soft voice, even when you’re humming. Like a lullaby, something I'd sing to my baby before bed.”

You felt Lucifer puff his chest slightly, his posture straightening beside you and you could only smile in delight. It was obvious Lucifer liked your compliments, and you had no problem reminding him of how gorgeous he was.

You imagined that the fallen angel was carved from the smoothest marble with the most precise hands, a perfect sculpture of a man that humans could only envy. 

“I used to do the same for Charlie,” Lucifer replied after a few moments, a content smile on his lips as if he was replaying the memories with fondness, “I like to think she got her musical talent from all the nights I sang her to sleep.”

“That’s so funny, Charlie seems like she was a wild baby,” you laughed softly as the two of you continued walking down the steps, halfway there now. Envy itched at the back of your scalp as you imagined what it would be like to have someone else doting over you and your baby like that.

“She was,” Lucifer gushed, just as your feet hit the hallway flooring of the hallway. The happiness Lucifer displayed talking about his daughter only made your heart swell. 

If your ex had stayed around, would he have shown the same care Lucifer had in the short amount of time since you had met him? Probably not. At least you had done the right thing and dropped him the moment he chose his dick over a family, there were no regrets anymore about your past actions regarding that asshole of a demon.

“Thank you, Your Majesty, for helping me with that difficult task,” You slowly began to slip your arm out of Lucifer’s hold, and he hesitated slightly, but released his hold after a moment, “Now I believe it's your turn to tell me what you’re doing here so soon.”

“I felt I’d come in person to tell Charlie about the meeting with Heaven. I got in contact with them and arranged a date for her. I just wanted to run through some rules she should keep in mind when she’s up there,” Lucifer replied. 

You titled your head, smiling softly at his worried expression. His daughter is going someplace potentially dangerous where he couldn’t protect her, and that obviously made him uneasy. You’d feel the same if it was your child, the thought causing your hand to lift and brush a gentle thumb underneath your bump.

“Also, to apologize again,” Lucifer deflated slightly, rotating the apple-tipped cane between his fingers, “I overstepped my boundaries the last time we interacted, it was rude of me and I won't let it happen again.”

“Are you talking about that magic stuff you did to me?” You asked, tilting your head with a quirked brow.

“Yes… I didn’t realize I was doing it until you reacted. It’s just kind of an instinct for me, blessing babies. I mean–well, I can’t bless anymore, but it's still the same kind of magic. I understand if it made you uncomfortable and everything…”

“I liked it.”

“You did?” Lucifer asked in disbelief, his cane freezing in his grip as he stared at you.

“Yes! I was just taken aback is all, I’m sorry. Whatever you did, it felt very invigorating, like I could climb a mountain!” you nodded your head vigorously, eyes sparkling as you sent Lucifer a playful smile.

“Oh… well, I’m glad I could be of use to you,” he averted his gaze with a bashful grin, adjusting his long collar with flustered fingers.

“Would you do it again?” You asked with a raised brow, puckering your lips slightly as you batted your lashes towards Lucifer. Whatever he did felt like some kind of drug you craved, boosting your mood and energy like nothing ever has. 

“Uh huh…” Lucifer’s gaze drifted to your lips momentarily, before you unpuckered them and they curved into a pleased grin.

“Great! Here, you can even touch my bump again, if that makes things easier,” you beamed, lacing your fingers with Lucifer’sm who tensed at your bold touch. Gently, you pulled his arm towards the underside of your bump, lifting the fabric slightly so his finger could softly graze against soft skin.

Lucifer was deathly still, his hand obediently limp in your hold as you adjusted closer to the baby’s position. They had been very active this morning, playing patty cake with your bladder and parkouring against the walls of your womb. Even now, you could feel a slight nudging against the side of your stomach, and you pressed Lucifer’s hand gently into your skin. 

“...There! Can you feel it?”

Right on cue, your baby roughly nudged you, your skin shifting slightly against their jab, and Lucifer’s hand tensed at the feeling. That soft smile of his widened, that glimmer of adoration returning to his gaze as his index finger extended, a soft golden glow emanating from the skin Lucifer’s hand was softly pressed against.

Just like last time, a soothing burst of energy flowed through your limbs. The ache in your feet ebbed, that weight in your back lessening, along with the similar sensation of experiencing a sugar rush. The urge to do a few laps around the hotel, if that was even possible at this point.

And then, something strange happened. Something… different from the last time. You felt pulsing against your skin where Lucifer's fingers lay. 

Ba-dump, Ba-dump. Fast and rhythmic, beating with life. As your skin seemed to glow with the angelic light, the noise only got louder as it echoed around the room. Your fingers still wrapped delicately around Lucifer’s hand tightened slightly, as the pulsing grew stronger.

“Can you hear that?” Lucifer whispered softly, his thumb brushing softly against your skin as he met your gaze.

“Is that…?”

“Their heartbeat,” he replied with a smile, “It sounds very strong, too. A perfect, healthy baby.” 

Tears pricked at your eyes as you listened for a few more moments, the sounds of your child’s beating heart like music to your ears. 

After a few more moments, Lucifer slowly slid his hand out of your grip and away from your stomach. With his touch went the warmth and that magical, golden glow. The room fell silent again, that musical rhythm fading with the light. 

You wiped your eyes with a free hand, holding in a sniffle as you smoothed the fabric of your outfit back into place with the other.

“Better?” 

“Very much,” you nodded, your posture straightening that made relief bloom down your aching spine, “Enough to go for a walk outside, even!” 

“Alone?” 

“Well, who else?” You quirked a brow, turning towards the long hallway on the other end of the room, one hand resting on your bump as you walked, “Angel is working, Sir. Pentious sleeps until noon, and Charlie and Vaggie always spend their mornings together. Unless you are suggesting that I ask Alastor, who actually might be around here somewher—“

“—It's almost like, ” Lucifer slid up right beside you, arm softly brushing against yours as he sent you a charming grin, keeping pace with your slight amble, “There is a demon very close by that is perfectly capable of lending assistance. One that has done a fantastic job so far providing both protection and entertainment, don’t you agree?

“Doesn’t this demon have plans with his daughter this fine morning?”

“Apparently his daughter has plans with someone else, and I’d hate to interrupt the two lovebirds doing whatever it is that young kids do these days.”

“And you’d rather spend your free time with me?” You questioned with a soft, disbelieving laugh. Why would someone that could go anywhere he pleased and do anything he wanted, spend time with a random demon from the streets like you? 

“If the lady allows me,” Lucifer hummed with a grin.

What was so bad about letting him join you? It was only a quick walk, and you didn’t mind his company one bit. He was the king of Hell anyway, he could join you even without your consent. He was giving you a choice in the matter, and that just proved his character was more than that egotistical, powerful grin he displayed to his people on the covers of magazines. 

“His Majesty may join my stroll if he wishes,” you grinned, sending him a playful glance as the hallway opened up slightly as you neared the front of the building.

Lucifer seemed to have a little more pep in his step the rest of the way to the lobby, which was unusually empty as the two of you passed through the large room towards the front entrance. The fallen angel slid right past you to reach the doors first, before he opened one wide for you with a courteous tip of his hat as you passed by. 

“What a gentleman,” you teased with a giggle, patting him softly on the shoulder as you passed by, before stepping into the morning light. Basked in light red hues, you stepped onto the grass.

“There’s a dirt path that goes around the building, just a lap is all I needed to burn some energy.” You turned to him with a smile.

Before you even got to take a step in that direction, your stomach rumbled loudly, and Lucifer’s head snapped in your direction, before he quirked a brow at your averted gaze.

“Have you eaten anything today?” 

“No, it's still early. I get sick if I eat right away in the morning, ” you explained. Another addition to the list of pregnancy symptoms that liked to torment you. 

“Something light, at least,” Lucifer suggested, his eyes landing on a rickety old picnic table before turning to you with a pleading look. 

You don’t argue with the fallen angel, instead brushing past him to take a seat on one of the benches. With all the extra weight in your middle, sitting was also becoming a nuance, and the muscles in your legs were probably twice the size now with all the exercising you were doing lately.

“What’s on the menu today?” Lucifer asked from the other side of the table, rubbing his hands with a playful smile as he removed his hat and coat to lay gently beside him. 

After a few moments of thought, you indulged him on your latest food fix. 

“The lady is as cultured as ever,” the king responded with a grin, before snapping his fingers and lifting his hand palm-up to catch a plate of your desire and lowering it gently onto the table, before catching a tall glass of water in the other.

Digging into your gourmet breakfast, Lucifer watched you with a small smile, pleased that you were eating something at least. His thoughts pulled him away for a few moments as you hungrily devoured the food on the table. 

You both sat there in comfortable silence, drinking in the morning peace.

“What are your plans after you have the baby?” Lucifer finally spoke, his chin resting against his knuckles as he stared at you softly. The gentle breeze tousled his silky blonde strands, as you took a sip from your glass. 

“Probably find somewhere deeper in the city, where the jobs are. I’m sure there’s somewhere hiring that will take my skills. Maybe I’ll actually become a baker this time.”

“You don’t plan on staying?”

“I don’t want to be a bother,” you shook your head, pausing to take another large sip of your water, “Charlie’s already been accommodating enough, I can’t ask for more”

“Did he think you were a bother?” Lucifer suddenly blurted.

He? 

“Who?” 

“You’re… previous partner,” he slowly replied, stepping carefully to the subject of your ex-boyfriend. Someone who you had desperately tried to forget these past few months, to no avail. 

You blinked, tilting your head. Had Lucifer heard your conversation with Mimzy from when you first met? Had he been letting whatever thoughts stew until it drove him mad enough to ask you about it now? 

“I think he was more bothered by the fact he was going to be a father, than just me,” you laughed dryly, tracing the thin lines in the wood absently as you further exposed the shortcomings in your life.

Lucifer clenched his fist, pupils narrowing in irritation at your words. A soft growl resonated from his throat, and you lifted your head in concern at his emotional display.

“I’m sorry,” he shrunk slightly under your questioning star, averting his gaze to control his outburst. “It’s just hard to believe that anyone would treat someone like you with such disregard.” 

Your mouth parted slightly, but no words left your lips as you processed his statement, heart fluttering at his reaction. Guilt and regret crossed his features for bringing up the topic, as if you were a ticking time bomb ready to explode at the mention of your old lover.

Was Lucifer angry for you?

You found yourself overwhelmed by Lucifer's unexpected display of protectiveness and concern. His reaction stirred a mixture of emotions within you, ranging from surprise to gratitude. It was as though a veil had been lifted, revealing a side of him you only glimpsed before—a side that cared deeply about your well-being. 

“Lucifer I—“

“Let’s not dwell on the past,” the fallen angel interrupted you, rising from the bench suddenly as the empty dishes around you vanished with a burst of red smoke. 

He slipped on his overcoat and hat, before moving around the table to stand by your side. You looked up at him with a questioning stare once more.

“Shall we continue?” Lucifer asked softly, before lifting an elbow offering it to you.

You frowned at his change in the conversation, before lowering your gaze to his arm and slowly reaching up to grasp it with a small smile. Fine, you’d drop his sudden interest in your past and future.

Using his angelic strength, Lucifer helped you rise from your seat, a show of support you accepted gratefully. You locked elbows with him again, before turning towards the dirt pathway that wrapped around the hotel. 

For now, you’d let him dote on you without fuss. One day, though, you’d figure out what made the fallen angel so interested in you.

After that, Lucifer came to visit the hotel more often, which also meant paying a visit on your end too. It always started with a soft knock on your door, before he greeted you with that charming grin that instantly sent butterflies fluttering inside your stomach.

Then, he’d pull out an item from the inside of his coat, lifting it towards you like an offering. Usually, it was food that the fallen angel had noticed you taking a liking to. He’d lift a diverse array of mouth-watering goodies to your face, his lips curving into a knowing smirk as you hungrily accepted them.

Your cravings seemed to change by the week, so the poor guy began keeping a list of them all on the door of his fridge as a daily reminder of what could win your heart. Cravings weren’t the only things he kept an eye on, every interest you spoke of during those long conversations were memorized. 

As time went on, the gifts he offered you grew bigger, and so did your reactions to seeing them.

One day, Lucifer had walked you back to the staircase in an odd silence. He had never been so quiet before, and his demeanor was more anxious than usual. You didn’t have time to ponder that thought for long when the king cleared his throat to grab your attention.

“So…. I was a little bored last night,” Lucifer started, adjusting his long collar nervously as you regarded him with a quirked brow, “and, well, seeing as you didn’t have much for the baby, I thought I could give you a hand, soooo I made you this!”

His arm quickly lifted towards you, and you leaned forward to get a look at the small object in his hand.

Nestled in Lucifer’s palm, was a small, yellow rubber ducky. Your eyes widened, breath hitched, as your gaze flicked from the toy to Lucifer, then back to the ducky adorned with a small, white hat. He watched your reaction intensely, and at your silence, he cracked an awkward grin.

“For the little one, in case you didn’t have anything for them. It’s even got a little baker's hat, since I know that’s kind of your thing.”

Tears pricked at your eyes, and you took the duck gingerly from his hand, turning it over as you traced the outline of the beak, the cute little hat, and finally its adorable tail feathers curled at the back. It stirred something in you, your stomach swimming with emotions that were threatening to bubble up and consume you while staring at the toy. 

He made this… for your baby? As a gift to you? 

That was so sweet of him, and not even Charlie had given you something so thoughtful. Sure, she paid for a majority of your baby necessities—which you owed her your life for, no matter how much the girl disagreed—but she never presented you with something made from the heart like this.

Lucifer did, though. Even if he made a million matching yellow duckies beforehand, he still made this one specifically for you. Had your ex ever cared enough to do something like this for you? You couldn’t recall. And yet, a man who was practically a stranger before you was the one to care enough.

Fuck, you were about to cry. You tried to steel yourself, holding back tears. 

You met Lucifer’s gaze after a few moments, as you softly stroked the little toy with your thumb. The fallen angel only grimaced at your reaction, his smile faltering slightly as he watched your eyes well with tears and your lip start to quiver.

“Do you hate it?” He asked slowly, and you realized you were beginning to sniffle softly, hiccups building in your chest as you blinked in confusion. 

“Hate—hic—It? Why would you think…?” You started, before you felt tears welling up underneath your chin, and dripping softly onto the ducky close to your chest. 

You mentally slapped yourself, of course Lucifer would think you disliked it because of how emotional you were being. Shame ate at you after that. Here the king of Hell was, thinking about you and your baby and making something in his own free time, only for you to reward him with tears.

Curse these hormones!

Now, the quiet sniffles that escaped you were from both sadness and delight, as you clutched the rubber ducky closer to your chest. The tears spilled faster from your cheeks, wetting the ground beneath you. A few droplets landed on your exposed arm, and its cool touch was a welcome sensation from the heat boiling underneath your skin. 

“I-I-I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” you finally breathed, rubbing a hand across your face to get rid of the tears, before you inhaled a sharp breath to calm yourself, “I’m sorry for being such a… such a—”

You clamped your mouth shut, trying to rope in the last bit of control you had over your emotions that were threatening to come undone. You sucked in a large, sputtering breath and Lucifer leaned back, just as your lips quivered violently.

“—a wreck!” you wailed after that, placing your free hand to your mouth to try and hold in your sobs.

Lucifer jumped slightly, closing in the distance between the two of you as he rushed to your side. He bit his lip, what could he possibly do to make you feel better? If he would have known this was how you were going to react

“Wait, no! You’re not a wreck, you’re completely fine. Perfect, even! Oh, please don’t cry…” 

The man was starting to pace as you held a hand to your mouth, slowly but surely clamping down on your outburst of emotion.

“Here, have another one!” A second rubber ducky appeared with a red burst of smoke, landing softly into his palm as he lifted it towards your face, “Don’t worry I have a lot more at home!”

The duckie's cute little apron, displaying a cookie and two tiny wooden spoons in the shape of an X, only made your lip quiver more violently. Lucifer slowly pulled the third ducky away from your view behind his back, staring with concern as you tried to catch your breath.

“It’s so cute!” you gasped through the tears, before rubbing your eyes once more.

“You think so?” He replied in disbelief.

You nodded your head vigorously, smiling through the tears as you clutched both ducks to your chest. Lucifer slowly caught on, before breathing a large sigh of relief like he just avoided doomsday.

“Are… you two okay?” Came a familiar voice from the edge of the room. You turned your head to see Charlie standing with a confused expression as she watched Lucifer fuss over your disheveled figure.

“Charlie!” Lucifer perked, shooting her an awkward grin as he stood beside you, “I didn’t expect to see you here! I just thought I'd swing by and give our friend here a little something for their child.”

You held out your hands to the princess, who leaned in to get a better look at the yellow toys. The familiar body shape, orange beak, and beady little eyes had her immediately recognizing the objects and the reason behind your emotional outburst. 

“Awe, that’s so sweet, Dad!” Charlie clutched her chest, swooning at the sight of the small rubber ducks in your hands, “To make something for her baby like that, so thoughtful of you!”

She walked closer towards you and Lucifer, passing right by a few feet away to a hallway on the other end of the room. 

“Well, I won’t interrupt the two of you any longer, comfortable in each other's company already” Charlie waggled her eyebrows at you, throwing her dad an encouraging thumbs up before walking around a corner and out of sight. 

That had been a very embarrassing moment for you, but after the initial upsetting reaction, Lucifer didn’t seem to mind the changes pregnancy had forcefully placed upon you. Emotionally or physically, he seemed to adore traits that you had acquired during these past few months.

The fallen angel had been helping you in the kitchen one afternoon, as you made apple empanadas at his subtle request. 

Since you had first introduced Lucifer to your cooking, he couldn’t get enough of it. Anytime you mentioned using the kitchen, his head would snap towards you, licking his lips with hunger. The fallen angel had never asked outright for you to make anything for him, but dropping hints like ‘I thought I'd drop off some more apples for your pantry, since I know you like to use them in your baking and all.’ 

You’d simply shake your head and pull out Alastor’s recipe book, flipping through the pages for anything that used the red fruit. Thankfully, there was more than just tarts and pie that you could try your hand at. 

Thankfully, Lucifer ate up your dishes with the ferocity of a starving child every time. 

“If you can just materialize any food you want, why not just make these yourself?” You had asked him once, as you took small balls of dough into round, flattened pieces against the kitchen countertop. 

“Your food is just much better,” he had shrugged next to you, folding the dough-wrapped apple stuffing into dumpling-like shapes, before setting them neatly on a cookie sheet to be baked. The sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled up to his forearms, his red-and-white-striped waistcoat covered by a tall red apron. 

Heat crept across your cheeks at Lucifer’s words and you averted your gaze to hide your flustered expression. With his help, you’d never fuss about making him sweet treats. Especially if you got to indulge in them as well. 

Picking up a light stack of dishes you walked around the counter towards the sink. Your walk wasn’t really a walk anymore, your gait altered to adjust for the weight of what was basically a watermelon strapped to your stomach. 

You were also much slower, and you hated it. 

Right as you reached the sink, a soft chuckle reverberated behind you. Lucifer’s gaze had followed your figure, his eyes glinting with amusement as you moved.

“What are you laughing at?” You shot him a playful, suspicious glance as you placed the dishes gently into the sink. 

“Your walk, it reminds me of a waddle,” Lucifer teased with a soft smile, "Like a duck, adorable without even trying.” 

That only sent you into another flustered mess, cheeks heating in embarrassment that it was quite obvious you were struggling with the growing baby weight so far into your pregnancy. 

Even with the multitude of compliments given to you by the king, your self-esteem had greatly deflated as the months passed. 

“I look rather unsightly now,” you had sighed, adjusting your outfit in the tall mirror near your room’s dresser. 

Lucifer was leaning against the frame of your doorway, arms crossed as he watched you analyze yourself meticulously.

“What? Who told you that?” Lucifer questioned with a soft growl, brows furrowing.

“Nobody,” you replied with a frown, crossing your arms, “Nobody needs to tell me I look terrible. It’s clear as day, just look at me!”

“I am,” he smiled softly, shooting you casual bedroom eyes, “And I am very tempted to show you just how wrong you are, but my daughter demands my presence, and who am I to deny my little girl’s call?”

“Looks like I’ll just have to see you later,” you replied as he strolled up to you with a cheeky smile. 

“Of course,” he had purred, his fingers lacing with yours before he lifted your hand to his face. Lowering his head, Lucifer brushed his lips softly against your knuckles, heat radiating from his touch. Your heart fluttered, breath hitching as you resisted the urge to melt right then and there. 

Lucifer had tipped his hat to you, releasing your fingers slowly before turning away and walking out the door. You had smiled like a dumb teenager then, your mood instantly brightening at his flirtatious demeanor. 

However long this… bond between you and Lucifer lasted, you prayed it was full of nothing but soft memories. Only time would tell whether the king would get bored of you and simply turn the other cheek at your presence, no indication that the two of you had ever held a conversation. 

‘Stop being so paranoid,’ you growled to yourself, shaking your head, ‘He’s only ever been kind to you. Caring, thoughtful, funny. What more do you want?’

With the last month of your pregnancy just around the corner, you were determined to make this last, mostly peaceful period a pleasant one with the people you cared about. 

Hopefully, things will stay peaceful until then.

But, as Extermination Day closed in, so did your due date. You were giddy for the arrival of the latter, ready for the freedoms that came with having total control of your body once more.

‘I can’t wait until you’re outta me, kiddo,” you patted your round stomach affectionately, before waddling out of your room. Which was about five doors down from the lobby now, closer to the rest of the residents. It was noisier now, but at least you didn’t have to walk a mile to get decent food. 

It was Charlie who had initially convinced you to move, citing the fact that if you were to go into labor during the night or somewhere too far from the others, it may pose a risk to your baby in the case of an emergency. 

She was right, and Lucifer had no qualms with the change, as expected.

The only downside to being close to your due date was the many false alarms signaling you of labor. False alarms that only heightened everyone’s unease that you were a water balloon waiting to burst at any moment's notice.

Lucifer’s anxiety especially spiked whenever you’d suddenly wince, hissing in pain as you put a shaky hand on your stomach. He’d come rushing to your side, and you responded to his concern with an assuring smile and a pat on your stomach. 

“I’m fine, just Braxton-Hicks contractions, nothing serious… I think.” 

The king would sigh in relief at your words, relaxing slightly before offering you water or something to snack on. 

In the final month of your pregnancy, you were under strict orders by the royal family to refrain from lifting a finger until the baby came. You found that when the two Morningstar’s weren’t busy, they were finding ways to entertain you and soothe the natural pains that came with being on the very last leg of your pregnancy. 

Seeing as Extermination Day was just around the corner, the two weren’t around much as the days went on. Charlie was disappearing more often to try and gather support against Adam’s forces, and Lucifer was slowly regressing into another one of his depressive episodes.

Lucifer’s woes weren’t magically solved simply because he was finding purpose in caring for you and the hotel, mental health was unfortunately not that smoothly paved of a road to traverse. The king still had days where he retreated into the darkness of his mansion, barely a word to you or Charlie during that time. Only to reappear with tired, sunken eyes and a handful of freshly crafted rubber ducks for your growing collection.

You always gave him the space he needed, it just was terrible timing seeing his daughter was preparing to fight an army of murderous angels. 

Until one day Lucifer appeared in front of the door of your room, knocking so softly you almost missed it if you weren’t right next to the wooden frame. Extermination Day was only a week away. 

“You should get somewhere safe,” He had started right as you appeared in the doorway, “This hotel is full of targets for Heaven, you shouldn't be in such a stressful environment with the risk of an attack.”

“I thought they can’t go after my kind?” You had questioned, head tilting in confusion.

“The contract explicitly states they can’t, but that doesn’t mean one idiot can’t point the spear at the wrong demon in the chaos. I just don’t want to risk anything.” Lucifer pleaded silently for your agreement, his eyes soft with concern.

“If that’s what you think is best,” you had replied softly, heart fluttering at the level of worry and care the fallen angel displayed towards you and your child.

There was a small villa nestled on the outskirts of the city Lucifer owned, quiet and peaceful with its own butler that you’d rely on while you stayed there during the extermination. Lucifer had nudged at the idea of you staying there for more than just a couple of days, insisting how much better equipped it was to house a baby and away from any danger.

You had considered it, but your answer wasn’t finalized by the time Extermination Day rolled around, and you awoke with packed bags and a twisting stomach. You had been feeling… off all morning. Your bump felt heavier as you completed your early routine, your baby a little more active than usual. Sleep was a rarity the past few days, and you tried to rid your mind of drowsiness as you stood in front of Charlie with 

“Okay, so there is a limo coming to pick you and your things up soon. I made sure to have them pull up at the top of the hill for you,” The princess spoke as Vaggie tightened her outfit from the back, adjusting it slightly against her skin.

It was a red suit that stuck to her figure perfectly, providing ample flexibility and movement during battle. You had never imagined Charlie in this kind of scenario, someone who strongly opposed violence walking straight into it? A surprising sight, but the princess was set on being on the frontlines with the rest of her people when Adam arrived.

“Thank you,” you replied softly, before wincing at a ripple of pain that hit your from your lower abdomen. 

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, sorry. I've just been feeling a little under the weather lately. Nothing to be worried about.” You smiled reassuringly to the princess. She had much bigger things to fuss about then you.

“Okay, just let me know if something changes,” She nodded, adjusting her red suit as she spoke, “I haven’t been able to get ahold of my dad this morning… I hope he didn’t forget today was when the big army was coming down to try and kill us all.”

You had chuckled nervously along with Charlie at her own words. As much as it seemed like a simple tease, you had a sneaking feeling Lucifer would actually lose track of time and show up to the battle halfway through.

Charlie had turned away from you with a quick farewell, continuing preparations for the coming battle as you stood at the entrance to the hotel, waiting for the private car to arrive.

Then, you were hit with a cramp that had an intensity you hadn't experienced yet. It was followed by a sharp pinch deep inside your abdomen, before liquid began to pool at your feet. You froze, heart pounding as you stood deathly silent.

Was that your water breaking? Were you going into labor now?!

“Charlie!” Your voice cracked painfully as you called for the woman, who was adjusting a heart-shaped shield against her arm. The princess turned around to meet your gaze with confusion, before it morphed into concern as she scanned your figure, looking for what had you looking so shell-shocked.

“Oh!” Charlie gasped, her expression a mixture of panic and delight as the dots connected, “Oh my! It's happening! Hold on, hold on, I’m going to grab my phone!”

Another contraction hit you as Charlie dashed off, causing you to double over in pain and Vaggie to rush to your side with concern etched on her features. The next few minutes turned into a blur as the limo pulled up, and you were slowly moved to its waiting frame. 

This was it, it was time to have this baby. A relieving thought as you reached the vehicle’s side, your heart beating rapidly and mind racing with a million thoughts at once.

Your mind was still racing by the time you arrived inside the hospital and assigned a room.

“You got this, boss!” An Egg Boi cheered atop a stool right beside your hospital bed, your hand clenched dangerously tight around his stick arm as you inhaled a sharp breath of pain. 

“Thank you, Frank,” You grimaced, adjusting your posture atop the mattress as you tried to find any amount of relief during this naturally uncomfortable chapter of becoming a mother. The contractions were getting closer together, and were increasing in l; length and intensity since you first started keeping track.

Immediately after telling Charlie the badly-timed news, she had you rushed off to a nearby maternity ward. At arrival, you were forced to change into a thin and revealing hospital gown, before being strapped to machines that read your baby’s vitals and recorded your contractions. 

Apparently, the small hospital you were in was the best medical facility in all of Hell, paid for and used by the Morningstar family and the rest of the realm’s royalty.

The employees signed strict NDAs on what transpires during their shift, to prevent them from spilling to the press if a tragedy were to strike among the highest nobility. 

You had been here for the past few hours, the warning sirens outside had gone off a while ago, signaling Heaven’s attack on Pentagram City. The shades were drawn in your little room, preventing the witness of any gruesome sights right outside your window.

You couldn’t stomach watching the live footage of the extermination on your teeny hospital TV, not right now. Instead, you had some childish cartoon playing for Frank, who Sir. Pentious had insisted on going with you since everyone else was needed in the fight.

The drawback of not knowing the status of the hotel only made your anxiety worsen, though. 

Was everyone okay? Was Lucifer with them? Did he know you were here? Maybe, they won already… or lost. A hundred unwanted thoughts sped through your mind concerning your friends, but when another contraction hit you and you grimaced against the feeling of your insides being squeezed silly, the matters concerning anything outside of this room were not on your mind any longer.

That’s right, focus on the baby. They were your priority right now, their well-being depended on how you handled the next few hours. Soon, you’d finally get to welcome your child to the realm and in your arms. Every change and ache you’ve experienced for the past few months won’t have been for nothing, and you’d be cool with not experiencing this again for a long while afterward. 

Right as your head settled exhaustively against the cool, sterile pillow and Frank soothingly patted your hand, the door to your room opened and a small bunny-faced woman quietly slipped into the room.

“Hello! I’m Nurse Smith, just coming in to check up on you. How are you feeling?” The sandy-colored demon asked with a pleasant smile, her black heels clicking softly against the tile floor as she moved to your bedside.

“I feel like we’re getting closer,” you croaked softly, lips cracked with thirst. Unfortunately, if you wanted a much less painful delivery, water was a no-no until your epidural. Your contractions had been manageable, but as the hour began to change, they were coming in more intense and closer waves.

“Let’s check, shall we?” Her long ears perked, as she moved towards the monitors displaying your child’s heart rate and other information, including how dilated your cervix was. 

“Oh, it looks like you’re dilated about 9 centimeters. I think we’re ready to meet the little one! I’ll call the other nurses, and the anesthesiologist for the epidural.”

“Thank god,” You breathed with relief, the numbing liquid would be your saving grace in these trying times. 

The nurse left the room to fetch the rest of the delivery team, your heart began to beat rapidly in your chest as you took deep, shaky breaths to calm your nerves. It wasn’t really working, and while you understood the need for all hands on deck to fight a horde of trained angelic killers, the lack of familiar, comforting faces inside the building.

Frank was a nice little addition, but he could only offer you so much support with eyes glued to the screen of dancing, animated fruit with baby features.

When the anesthesiologist arrived, surrounded by a multitude of demons dressed in white medical attire, he had greeted you softly before lifting a long, thin needle to your view.

Gulping quietly, you rose to face your back towards the doctor, and he began poking uncomfortably down your spine. When it seemed like he had found the perfect spot, you felt a sharp pinch in your back before faint warmth slowly crept from the spot the demon had injected. 

When that was finished, and you reclined back against your mattress, the staff around you were prepping the baby cleaning station and fussing around at the end of the bed near your legs.

Then, a tall woman with lion-like features strolled into the room, her commanding presence told you she was the head honcho of the small crew of white-clad women who were busy around you.

“Hello, I’m the OB that’s going to help deliver your baby today,” she walked up to the side of your bed, pulling light blue latex gloves onto her paws as her eyes landed on the egg-shaped demon beside you with an odd expression, “Is he the…?”

“No!” You gasped, releasing Frank's arm and scooching over an inch from the short demon, before raising a brow to the doctor with a gaze that silently questioned ‘Seriously? You think I’d bang an egg?’

She only shrugged, before turning away from you to speak quietly to a few nurses washing their hands. With a sigh, you twisted your head to face your innocent companion, tapping his shell softly to get his attention. Another contraction hit you, but the high-quality numbing agent had you barely reacting.

“Frank, sweetie, can you please wait outside until I get done with my… business here?”

“Sure thing!” The egg replied happily, his eyes moving from the cartoons to you with a thumbs up, before the demon tipped his little black hat in a bid of farewell and hopped off the stool beside your bed.

As the nurses scurried around your legs, before lifting them with care and slipping your ankles snugly inside. You felt bare and exposed—which you were—and while the room was much more comfortable and dimly lit than other hospitals you had been to, constant beeping equipment paired with the faint smell of the beach only heightened your anxiety at the fact you were about to give birth.

“Deep breaths for me, dear,” the OB spoke softly, before slipping a surgical mask onto her face, and retreating to in between your legs, two nurses at the ready beside her. Her figure became obscured as she bent down below the sheet that was covering the sight before your lifted knees.

Following her instructions obediently, you regained control of your breathing. Deep inhale, long exhale. Another, and another, then another, until you could feel your heart beginning to slow its racing pace. 

“Alright, it’s time. On my count, I want you to start pushing when you feel your contractions, okay?” The OB piped up from underneath the sheet, and your fingers gripped the rails on the side of your bed with deadly force as you mentally prepared yourself.

“1…” 

Deep breaths, you’ve got this.

“2…”

Please let this be a smooth delivery. 

“3…”

I wish Lucifer were here.

“Alright, mama, push!”

Straining against the stirrups slightly, you inhaled a deep breath and poured all your strength into your lower abdomen with a grunt as you followed the doctor’s command. After a few moments of heavy exertion, you felt the contraction begin to ebb. Your head hit the pillow with a gasp for breath, sweat beginning to down your forehead.

A contraction slowly builds in your abdomen, cueing you into gathering your strength once. As you readied for another round of pushing, you turned towards a nurse who was standing supportively on the left side of the bed.

“I’m never having sex with a man again,” you groaned, lifting your head from the pillow with effort.. 

“Oh, sweetie,” the much older woman laughed, patting your hand soothingly, “That’s what they all say.”

Lucifer stood proudly in front of the newly rebuilt hotel, the strobe of lights flashing rhythmically, lighting up the building’s tall figure with a tempting glow to wide-eyed onlookers. The small, misfit army of Hell had defeated Adam and sent killer angels back to Heaven. 

There were casualties on both sides, but thankfully only one demon that resided inside the hotel was taken from the realm. Sir. Pentious, an inventor, leader, and friend. Lucifer may have not known the snake demon for very long, but the respect he held for the brave captain was immense. 

“What a beauty! And it only took us one musical number to get it all done, that has got to be a record!” The fallen angel nodded his head approvingly, crossing his arms as he twisted his head to observe the small crowd of demons. 

The princess stood a few feet away, handing Cherry Bomb a small medical kit as she leaned against a bench. The cyclops woman sent Charlie a small appreciative smile as she took the metal case from her hands. 

Turning, she strolled up to her father with tired eyes, exhaustion evident on her features, both mentally and physically from everything she had just experienced in the short span of a few hours.

���We did good, if I do say so myself,” Lucifer grinned pridefully to his daughter, blonde hair swaying softly in the breeze as he met her halfway.

“Yeah. That's for doing most of the work, Dad. We wouldn't have gotten it done so fast without your magic.” Charlie nodded, smiling softly.

“Pfft, it was no biggie. Anything for my little girl,” Lucifer brushed off her compliment with a wave of his hand, before pulling up the sleeves of his white dress shirt.

Charlie and Lucifer stood next to each other in comfortable silence, as the princess absently rubbed the bruise on her throat. Adam’s grip had been suffocating, the intention of harm evident on his expressive mask before it was split in two by Lucifer’s powerful retaliation. 

“I think she’ll really like this place, If she hasn't already seen it on TV at the villa.” Her father finally spoke after a few moments.

She. Charlie didn’t need her dad to say your name to know who he was talking about. You were one of the few women that was on Lucifer’s mind these days, and it was obvious the two of you had grown closer these past few months. She was sure if you were at the hotel during the battle the king would have been a raging mess to keep both you and his daughter safe. Fortunately, you were far from anyone who would want to lay a hand on you.

“I think she’s a little busy right now, since she’s..”

It suddenly occurred, the cloud of exhaustion parting just enough for the recollection of where exactly you had gone to smack Charlie square in the face. The princess had been so busy getting thrown around in battle, mourning her friend, and helping rebuild the hotel she almost forgot why you had left so suddenly.

“She’s having her baby!” Charlie suddenly gasped, eyes widening before she threw her hands up to hold her head in realization. 

“She’s what?” Lucifer whispered, his face paling to an even whiter shade as he froze in place.

“She went into labor this morning, so I had her taken to that hospital you liked,” Charlie explained breathlessly, a few demons around them eavesdropping on their conversation as Vaggie walked over with a mirrored expression of realization.

“Alone?” The fallen angel replied, mouth slightly agape as panic began to set into his features.

“One of Pentious’ eggs is with her,” Cherry Bomb answered softly from her spot on the bench with a melancholy gaze, as she re-wrapped a nasty wound with gauze.

“Why didn't you tell me?” He demanded.

“I was kind of in the middle of a battle!” Charlie replied defensively, her mind racing now as she worried about you and how you were faring during such a stressful time. What about the baby? 

Lucifer didn’t respond, turning away from the gathering group of demons as he snapped his fingers. In an instant, his long overcoat materialized atop his shoulders, and his hat floated down gracefully to rest upon the king’s head as golden magic circled his figure, before disappearing without a word. 

“Why couldn't he have done that for the rest of us?” Angel Dust grumbled from beside Cherry, before standing with a sigh and cracking his back. Husk strolled up to stand beside him, mouth opening in a large yawn as he itched his chin with a claw.

“I’ll call a cab,” Vaggie replied, rushing off in search of a phone as Charlie began to bite her nail to try and relieve some of the stress that was beginning to bubble up in her stomach. A million unwanted thoughts of scenarios where something terrible happened to you or the baby eating at her mind.

The apple-cheeked woman’s nail was still at the mercy of her nervous chewing as she rocked self-soothingly in the chair next to Vaggie, who rubbed her shoulder softly in support. 

Five battered demons sat in cushioned armchairs arranged in neat rows across a small waiting room right outside of the maternity ward. 

Alastor had disappeared again sometime after the hotel had been finished, with no word of his whereabouts. Cherry Bomb had been too disheveled to join, tears brimming from her large eye as the rest of the demons squished into one taxi and sped off.

When they arrived, Lucifer was already inside the hospital, foot tapping impatiently in the front lobby as he pointed a commanding finger down towards a white, oval-shaped figure standing agape before him.

“You, talking egg,” The fallen angel began, voice deepening to display his superior authority as Charlie approached from behind, “You were sent here today to keep watch over someone very important. Now lead them to me… please”

Frank had stated wide-eyed for a few more moments, before saluting his king and marching off into a hallway on the right. 

Now, the king of Hell was displaying anything but the traits of an imposing leader. Hunched slightly, head lowered, an obvious nervous wreck as Lucifer paced along a wide pane of glass overlooking a more residential side of the city. 

One pink, fuzzy demon stared intently at the anxious figure with a large smile of amusement.

“Ten bucks she’s handling everything much better actually popping out the kid than this poor fella is over here,” Angel teased as he gestured towards Lucifer, before meeting Husk’s eyes from the chair next to him.

The feline’s gaze moved to follow the king’s continuous back-and-forth trail in front of the window across the room, the apple-tipped cane twisting between his fingers impatiently as he waited for news on your condition. Lucifer raked a hand through his hair, pulling back the tousled strands as he mumbled something incoherent.

It was obvious Lucifer and Charlie were related by much more than just their looks, one being how badly they handled stressful situations. You were being cared for by the best doctors in Hell, what could go wrong?

“Nah, you’re probably right,” Husk finally replied with a chuckle, before his eyelids slowly lowered and he drifted off into a light, cat-like sleep. 

A quiet purr resonated from his chest as he napped, and Angel smiled before lifting the pink phone in his hands and taking a selfie, Husk’s peaceful expression slightly visible from behind the spider’s figure. 

Somehow, Niffty had gotten hold of a handful of markers and was demonstrating her artistry on a living canvas for amusement. Frank sat on the floor near Vaggie’s feet while the tiny cyclops doodled across his shell, he didn’t move an inch.

When the door to the waiting room opened, a nurse clad in white slipped inside, and everyone froze to stare at the approaching demon. She lowered her gaze respectfully in Lucifer's presence, and halted right in front of the first row of chairs. 

“Huska’, wake up!” Angel Dust whispered sternly into the feline’s ear and a poke to the cheek, who popped a disgruntled eye open in response to the interruption. 

Husk turned to shoot Angel a glare before his eyes landed on the demon woman standing in front, his ears perking in interest. 

“The delivery went smoothly,” she smiled shyly, and everyone in the room exhaled a shared sigh of relief, “You’re welcome to visit now, just follow me.”

Everyone rose from their seats, Lucifer adjusting his appearance to look more presentable for you as he walked toward the nurse. Charlie turned to lace her fingers with Vaggie’s before following behind her dad. 

“Maybe I should stay back, I don’t do well with kids…” Husk started, still leaning back in his seat.

“Don’t be a pussy, pussy cat,” Angel teased, not looking backward as he joined the rest of the group by the door.

Husk growled softly, before lifting himself from the chair with a huff and exiting out of the door, his feathered tail swishing with anticipation as he crossed the hall and stood with the others at the last doorway on the end.

‘Shh, The Baby Is Sleeping!’ sign was hanging against its frame, before the nurse knocked on the door softly and turned back to the groups 

“Whenever you’re ready,” the nurse hummed, before backpedaling and pivoting on her heel to check in on another room nearby.

Lucifer stood frozen in place, one hand reaching for the door handle as he hesitated. Eyes stared expectantly at their king, who only backed up from the room and allowed Charlie to take the lead.

“I think it would be best if you go first, I’m sure she’s anxious to see you all safe and sound,” Lucifer said with a nervous grin, taking a step backward and slipping past the figures of your friends. 

Charlie only stared at him with a curious expression, as if she was going to argue with her father, before turning back to the door and slowly turning the handle to reveal the room inside. 

“Hi, everyone” he heard you greet them tiredly from the other side of the room before they responded with a mixture of soft words for the new mother. 

Lucifer couldn’t see past the looming bodies of the demons in front of him, and that gave him time to pull out a thin, delicate object from his coat and turn it between his fingers in thought. His mind racing with what he could possibly say to you in a moment like this.

“How are you doing?” Charlie asked as the small group of friends filed into the room.

“Much better now that you’re here,” you replied with a small, relieved laugh, “Although, I did expect Sir. Pentious to join, too.”

Radio silence, not a peep from anyone. How were they supposed to tell you that your baking buddy had sacrificed himself for all his friends? It was such a happy moment for you, they couldn’t dare ruin 

“Yeah, bummer…” Angel Dust murmured quietly, rubbing his arm awkwardly as everyone else tried to keep their lips from curving downward and find a topic to change to.

Then, the king heard Charlie gasp softly, her head turning to another obscured side of the room. The rest of the group turned their heads to follow their gaze, eyes widening at the sight. 

“Is that…?” She whispered in excitement. 

“Yes, would you like to meet my daughter?”

Lucifer’s heart fluttered at that. Daughter. You had delivered a healthy baby girl, and he was not going to wait around a moment longer to congratulate you. 

Finally, the king inhaled a deep, reassuring breath before he strode forward and stepped into the dimly lit room. The crowd parted, revealing your relaxed form on the bed across from him. Lucifer finally met your siren-like gaze and your lips curved into a delighted smile.

“Lucifer,” you sighed happily, eyes drinking in the fallen angel’s perfect figure. 

“Glad to lose some of that water weight?” He teased with that signature charming grin, taking a few steps closer to your bed.

Across the room, was a transparent bassinet nestled in the darkest area of the large space. Every demon in the room had their attention on the bundle of blankets lying still inside.

Slowly, Charlie scooted closer and closer to the cradle, before she leaned over with a smile. She stared in awe at the tiny figure sleeping soundly, before turning her head to meet your gaze. 

“I trust you, Charlie,” you smiled softly at the wide-eyed woman, “You can take her if you want, just be careful.” 

With a joyous smile, the princess turned back to look down at the little bundle of joy, before reaching down and carefully lifting the baby out of the bassinet.

She looked just like you, all cozy wrapped up in the thick blankets around her small body as Charlie held her tight, slowly lowering into a cushioned chair near the shaded windows of the room. The rest of the attendees in the room—save for Lucifer, who couldn’t take his eyes off you—gazed at your twin with adoration. Even Husk wanted a peak, nose twitching as he got a good look at the child with interest. 

“Look at her nose! It’s so tiny and adorable!” Charlie whispered and Vaggie leaned over the chair to get a closer look. 

You watched the small group huddle around your daughter, their gazes tender as they fawned over the sleeping child. Smiling softly, you turn your head to see Lucifer coming closer, his arm leaning against your bed's railing as he lifts a mesmerizing flower into view.

It was a beautiful red rose. Not the hellish roses that rarely grew around the outskirts of Pentagram City, but the classic Earthly version, which you recognized from one of Angel’s descriptions of life in the living realm. 

“I hope everything wasn’t too difficult,” Lucifer responded to your surprised stare at his gift.

There were no thorns present, designed specifically by pale hands just for you to enjoy without the fear of pain. Reaching an arm forward, you took the flower gently from Lucifer’s hold, your fingers brushing softly against his as you lifted it to your nose and inhaled a deep breath. 

The scent of the rose made your lips curve into a soft grin, as you met Lucifer's gaze again.

“Thank you, it’s so pretty,”

“Not in comparison to you,” he replied without hesitation.

You sent him a doubtful quirk of a brow. Having just delivered a baby, you weren’t exactly runway-ready, but Lucifer didn’t seem to care as he stared at you softly. 

Charlie walked forward, interrupting the tender moment as she offered your daughter for you to hold once more. Lucifer finally got a glimpse of your child as he stilled, eyes lighting with interest as he traced the familiar lines on their little features that mirrored so closely to your own.

He hitched a breath, right as you leaned forward and pulled your daughter into your grasp, pulling her flush against your chest. 

Pivoting slightly to face Lucifer, you beckoned the pale face closer to greet the new addition. Slowly, he sidled closer, leaning forward as his eyes traced over the tiny being all bundled up. 

“Hi there,” he spoke quietly to the child, whose features mimicked yours almost to the T. It was definitely your baby, and that only made Lucifer sigh with fondness as he lifted a tentative figure toward the bundle.

His claw delicately grazed against plump, soft cheeks which earned him an adorable coo from your daughter, and that only made the king’s lip wobble more.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you,” Lucifer whispered, gently caressing the baby’s cheek as you watched with a warm smile. 

Then, the king lifted his head to meet your gaze, tears in his eyes as he stared at you affectionately. You had to stop yourself from rising from the bed and comforting him. 

“Sorry,” he rubbed away the wet trails on his cheeks, “Moments like these get me pretty emotional.”

Slowly, you reached a free hand towards Lucifer’s, lacing your fingers with his comfortingly as you laughed softly, tugging him farther past the railings of your bed. Your daughter was nestled against your chest, her warm cheek pressed against your skin only made your smile curve wider.

“I couldn’t have done it without your help, or anyone else’s here. I’m glad I had that kind of support all these months.”

“Don’t worry, mama” he tenderly lifted your hand, placing his lips to your knuckles for a few moments, drinking in your scent that always had him dizzy for more, “We’ll keep that streak going for a long, long time.”

Tears began to well up in your own eyes, as they traveled over to the smiling faces watching you and your baby with fondness. Had you known this is what your life would have looked like all those months ago, you wouldn’t have been so anxious about the future.

Finally, you weren’t so alone anymore. Not with Lucifer, and the obvious care he held for your daughter already, promising you a comfortable life.

Perhaps, happy days in Hell really did exist.

holy shit guys i basically wrote y’all a novella about a baby-loving king wtffff somebody take my laptop away before i do it again 😏

Let me know what you think <3

tags 🏷️

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

[sleepyparalysisdmon]

Ima

The three times Wonwoo flirted with you, and the one where you finally realize it. 

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: none that I can think of, just some fluff

This is part of the Three Times series. This one is inspired by this reaction.

One

“I was wondering when you’d be in,” you say as the shop door opens. Wonwoo gives a light smile. 

“Miss me or something?” He saunters up to the counter. You roll your eyes. He’s in the game shop you manage every week, it seems. He likes to rent games from this shop. It’s a mystery why. You know what he does for work, you don’t live under a rock. He could buy all the games he wants. Still, he comes in to rent a game that you recommend, play it, and return it the next week with a report on what he thought. 

“How was it?” You pick up the case he’s slid onto the counter and scan it for the return. 

Wonwoo shrugs. “You were right. Could have been better.”

“I’m always right,” you chortle jokingly. 

“I believe you,” he muses from across the counter. “What do you have for me this week?” 

You pull a case from underneath the counter from the spot that is affectionately known as Wonwoo’s little hiding spot. It even has a little piece of tape on it with his name on it. Sometimes things stay there even if someone else asks for the item. Preferential treatment for your best customer after all. “The sequel. It’s better, I promise.” 

He reaches for his pocket, but you wave him off. You don’t need his card to pull up his account anymore. You nearly have the account number memorized anyway. You’re sliding the case across to him when the shop door opens again. There’s a certain demographic that needs more help than others in a store like this, and the middle aged mom looking blankly around the store certainly fits the bill. Wonwoo doesn’t linger so you can help the woman find what she needs. 

Two

“Well?” You ask from the back of the store. You don’t have to look at whose come in, you just know. 

“You were right, it was better,” Wonwoo voices from the next aisle over before peeking around the corner. “Shipment? Anything good?” 

“Yours are already at the front,” you tease. 

Wonwoo looks smug. “Say you thought of me as soon as you opened the shipment.”

“Of course, I did,” you laugh, plopping the last of the plushies onto the shelf. “In fact, one of them I only ordered because of you.” 

Wonwoo laughs as he takes the empty box from you and trails behind you to the counter. This is another little routine when he visits. He knows where the cardboard boxes go. He even breaks them down and takes them out back to recycling sometimes if you’re swamped. “You love me so much.”

You hum as you put his little stack of things on the counter. You process his return and check out the rentals to him. When you slide them to him, he slides them back. “Put them back in my hiding spot for a bit. I’ll take care of the boxes before I go.”

“Oh, Wonwoo, you don’t have to do that. I can take care of it later. I’m here all day.”

He brushed you off, stepping behind the counter and taking the box cutter from the drawer. “You work alone on Tuesdays and hate to lock up in the middle of the day or leave the store unattended. Just let me run and do it. It’ll take five minutes.”

He’s right. You hate working alone, but none of your part timers have any availability on Tuesdays. The woes of hiring college students with busy class schedules. You let him break down the boxes and take them out back. 

When he comes back in, you hand him a plushie on top of his games. He looks like he might fight you on it, but you insist. “You aren’t getting paid for how you help around here. Just take the free plushie, Wonwoo.” He relents, telling you he’ll see you next week. 

Three

You’re working in the back the next time Wonwoo comes in. One of your part timers interrupts you while you’re making the schedule. “Wonwoo’s here. What did you have in mind for him this time?” Wonwoo’s one of the store’s favorite customers, not just yours, but the part timers let you handle filling his stack underneath the counter. 

“I’ll be out in a minute,” you tell him, saving your work. When you see Wonwoo, you laugh, “Back again already? It’s only been a few days.” 

“What can I say? I missed you a little.” Wonwoo laughs. 

“What’d you think?” You ask, holding up one of the cases he’s returning.

“Great, actually. Do you have a copy I can buy?” He asks. 

You grin, pulling a brand new copy of the game from his little hiding spot. “Do I know you or what?”

“I guess so,” he agreed, grinning. When you scan the rentals you picked for him, he speaks up. “Can you extend the date for those? I’ll have to travel starting next week and they might be late.” 

You wave him off. “You know I’ll waive the fees for you. When have you ever been late before?” 

“Never. Otherwise, how would I see you?” He laughs, handing you his credit card for the new game. His phone rings as he’s signing the receipt and he quickly excuses himself. The shop door is closed before you pick up the receipt to put it in the register. For whatever reason, the receipt format has a tip line, despite never needing to tip someone at a game store. You’ve told corporate dozens of times that it confuses people, and you wish you’d pushed a little harder because Wonwoo’s left a totally unnecessary tip for the exact price of the plushie you gave him last week. He must have looked on the website to find out how much it cost.

You scoff, stuffing the receipt in the register. You’ll get him back for this somehow. 

Four

The next time he comes in, you’re standing on a stool to change a light bulb. He scoffs as his hands come around your calves to steady you. “Why didn’t you let someone taller do this for you?”

“Couldn’t wait. The bulb blew yesterday back here and no one’s in until Wednesday. You can’t even see the shelves without it,” you say, making absolutely no move to get off the stool until the job is done. “How was your trip?”

He hums. “Fine. Paris Fashion Week.”

“Ooo, fancy,” you chuckle. “What? You didn't enjoy one of the most romantic cities in the world?”

You can hear the smile in his voice even though he’s behind you. “Eh. I’ve been before. Plus, you weren’t there.”

“Never been,” you say lightly. “All done!” You clap before trying to climb off the stool. You’re surprised when you’re suddenly in the air and even let out a little squeak. Wonwoo’s hands leave your waist as soon as your feet are back on the ground. “Thanks,” you say weakly.

He looks so fucking casual about it as he shrugs. “Didn’t want you to fall.” You’re abnormally flustered as you turn to go to the counter. You process his returns. It’s an old habit to pop open every case and do a once-over to the disc, even though you know Wonwoo’s never returned anything damaged. 

Inside the last case is a slip of paper with some numbers written on it. “Oh, did you leave this in here?” You pick it up and hold it out to him. 

He shakes his head. “Oh, no. That’s for you.” 

“It’s a phone number,” you say, confused. You’re even more confused when he bites back a grin. 

“Yeah, I know. It’s mine.” 

“… What?”

He’s still grinning. “I know it’s on my account, but you’ve never used it, so I thought I’d make myself clear.” 

“Do you… like me or something?” The words sound weird as they come out of your mouth. 

This makes him bark out a loud, slightly exasperated laugh. “Y/N, I flirt with you every single time I come in. It’s really the only reason I come in.” 

“Are you serious?” You stutter out.

“Yeah, I am. Not that it was getting me anywhere. I decided for a more direct approach this time. I missed you while I was traveling and having your phone number would have been nice.” 

You’re still so baffled at his confession and subsequent amusement that you’re a little robotic. “Oh… okay then.” 

“There’s really no pressure, Y/N.” He seems to mean it. He gestures behind the counter. “What do you have for me today?” 

“A couple older ones, not sure if you’ve played them before,” you say, totally distracted. He glances at the covers and shrugs. 

“I’ll take them,” he says simply. His phone rings and he steps away with an apology. The check out is complete within a few seconds, but you stall out, staring at the pen and post it notes next to the register. He sounds like he’s wrapping up his call, so you rush, scribbling on to the note and stuffing it inside one of the cases. When he approaches the counter again, he looks apologetic. “I’m sorry, I can’t stick around. That was work.” You wave him off and he’s almost out of the door when he turns around. “Really, no pressure, okay?” 

You nod, grinning to yourself when the door closes behind him. You stuff the little paper into your pocket and move on with work. Later that night, you’re locking up when you’re phone buzzes. You recognize the number from earlier and it makes you laugh. So does the message. 

‘I forgot how good this game is. You’re always right.’

[papurgaatika]

Nothing Fucks With My Baby

Pairing: Joel Miller x F! Reader

A/N: This got so out of hand so fast, but it is FINALLY here. This is for all my Joel girlies with crazy daddy issues, I see you and I get you. I really didn’t mean for the first half of this fic to be so angst-filled, but I think the smut is a good trade-off for it in the end. AS ALWAYS humongous shoutout to my beloved beta readers @joelsdagger and @carlynkurin yall kill me with your comments and I love yall so much. And yes the title is a Hozier lyric, I love that guy. Remember that TLOU is created by a zionist so please look at the resources at the end of this fic and in my bio on ways to donate and educate yourself!! Tags: daddy issues, minor misogyny, minor body shaming, angst, Joel wants to beat up reader’s dad, age gap, daddy kink, pillow humping, exhibitionism if you squint, oral (f receiving), Joel Miller’s filthy mouth, breeding kink, cumplay kinda, protective Joel, no outbreak AU, no use of Y/N Word Count: 5.3k

Visiting your parents with Joel for the first time brings up some bad memories. And lets you make a few good ones too.

(aka Joel hates your parents and fucks you in your childhood bedroom)

Your fingers stilled over your phone, minor panic setting into your bones when you got a text from your mother asking you to come over for dinner with her and your father. Now you loved your parents and you think they loved you too, in whatever weird way they showed it, but your relationship with them was never amazing. They were overbearing when you lived with them, always expecting the most of you but never recognizing what you actually did, like you were never going to be enough in their eyes. You were a grown woman, a degree in hand, and jobs lined up, but with rent at an all-time high and entry-level positions barely paying enough, you had sucked it up for as long as you could and continued to live with them. The passive-aggressive remarks about their friends’ kids moving out and about your degree essentially being a waste barely mattered anymore, you kept your head down and didn't engage unless you really had to. Your daydreams of moving out and being independent dwindled a little with every snide comment your father made, but you were living rent-free so you didn't say anything. 

But then you met Joel, and Joel couldn’t see a single flaw in you, his perfect angel. You weren’t even planning on dating anyone, especially not someone this much older than you, but there was just something about him that drew you in. You could still remember the day you met him like yesterday. You had been driving home after taking a much-needed weekend to go see one of your friends from college and managed to run over a nail and saw your tire pressure going down. You had pulled over and contemplated calling your father, but the idea of him driving out to lecture you on being a better driver and why he thinks women shouldn't drive just gave you a headache. So, being the self-determined woman you were, you got out of your car, popped on a YouTube video on how to change a tire, and knelt next to your car. 

Granted, the video wasn’t helping you out much, and your headache was getting worse under the blistering Austin sun, and you felt the tears start to brim in your eyes as you rested your head against the door of your car. You were seconds away from sucking it up and calling your father when you heard a gentle, “Do you need any help, ma’am?” You’re not one to usually take help from men, especially not random men on the side of the road, but your head was pounding and your eyes were red, and something about his voice just put you at ease. So you sigh and nod, explaining how you really did try to change it, but it just wasn't working and he shoots you the prettiest smile you’ve ever seen in your life. “I’ve got it for ya don’t worry, it’s just a tire ‘ain't worth those tears.” 

You stand to the side as he kneels down to take a look at the damage before standing back up and grabbing the tools from your trunk. His arms were working on unscrewing the bolts of your (now useless) tire, and you couldn’t help but stare at them. His sleeves were pulled taut over his biceps and beads of sweat were rolling down his tanned skin. You watched as the fabric of his shirt clung to his belly and his gray-streaked hair grew damp from the heat, finding yourself unconsciously biting your lip when your eyes linger on the veins that strained under his arms. He lets out a soft grunt when he gets off the ground and turns to look at you. “I don't think it’ll be safe to drive on your spare sweetheart, let me call you a tow.” 

“Oh! No, it’s okay really,” your eyes go wide and your brows furrow as you try to figure out how much it would cost and who you would even call to come pick you up, but he’s already dialing a number into his phone and telling them they owe him a favor before hanging up and giving you another smile. “You really didn’t have to do that-” Your words falter because you realize you don’t know his name.

“Joel. And I couldn't let ya deal with it yourself, my mama raised me better than that.” You blush softly at his words, genuinely grateful to have met him. You let out a breath, your tears having subsided and your heart rate finally calming down before sitting back down on the ground, fully expecting Joel to walk back to his truck and head out, but are instead met with a frown when you look back over at him. “Can't just leave you here like this sweetheart,” he sighs looking down at you, “Let me take ya to the garage at least, just so I know you’re safe.” 

Quite honestly, you weren’t used to someone treating you with this much care and attentiveness, you weren’t sure what to do with it. But the worried look in his eyes and the warmth of his voice have you nodding, taking his hand and getting into his truck to go to the garage with him. You sit in surprisingly comfortable silence for the next few minutes until you decide to be bold and ask for his number “Well, just in case my tire pops again” Your words are matched with a small grin playing on your lips, and JoeL, well joel was a goner the moment you had said those words. 

You and Joel had moved relatively fast, only being together for about eight months before you were packing your stuff and moving in with him. He had heard all about your parents before then. He saw the tears that fell after a fight with them, heard the words they threw at you while you recounted to him, and he could never imagine treating someone, especially not someone as perfect as you, like that. He could recount how many times you would curl up into him, breathing in his scent to try and calm down while he ran a soothing hand over your back and told you it was going to be okay. So it was no surprise that he had a few choice words when you mentioned that your mother had asked you both to come over. “Dunno how civil I’ll manage to be, sweet girl” he groans into your shoulder, arm draped over your middle as y'all lay in bed. You giggle softly and tilt your head to the side so it’s leaning on top of his slightly. 

“Gonna have to be,” you catch his fingers in your own, running circles over the rough skin to soothe yourself. “I haven’t seen them since I moved out... I just want them to be okay with us I guess.” A sigh leaves your lips when you think about how displeased they used to be about anything that you ever did growing up, that displeasure skyrocketing when you started seeing Joel. 

You feel him still your fingers, taking your hand and wrapping it with his own, before shifting to look at you fully. “I can’t promise they’ll be okay, sweet girl, but just know I’m in it with you forever okay?” He brings your hand to his lips and presses a tender kiss to your knuckles and you feel your eyes start to water as you nod. “Now, we don’t need to think ‘bout it for a while, lets get some sleep yeah?” You curl into his side and mumble out a soft okay before letting yourself drift off, feeling the weight of his arm draped around you. 

The rest of the week passed with relative ease, you were busy with work and Joel had been doting over you more than usual to keep your mind off of things. Eventually, Friday rolls around and you find yourself in Joel’s truck fidgeting with the rings on your fingers, heart pounding in your chest. You’re staring out the window lost in the endless stream of anxiety that is your brain, until you feel Joel's hand, warm and heavy, running small circles on your knee. You let your hand rest on top of his, basking in the intimacy of it all before he pulls up to your old house. You can feel your breathing start to quicken, chewing on the inside of your lip, before looking over at him. “Wait, baby, can we go back, I can’t do this. I’m not ready,” your words were tumbling over each other, panic clear on your face. 

“Hey, hey, look at me angel. It’s gonna be okay. We can do this okay?” His hands are on your cheeks making you look at him, and you subconsciously lean into his touch. “I don’t like them any more than you do, but I’ll try to be on my best behavior, and if we go in and you wanna leave at any time, we’re outta here okay?” He breathes out a small sigh of relief when you nod, a small giggle leaving your lips at his words. You take one last steadying breath before throwing open the door of the truck, smoothing out your outfit, and letting the flowers you had picked up for your mother rest in your arms. 

You knock at the door and feel your nerves setting in again, but Joel's hand is holding yours and you feel like he’s pulling you back down to the ground again, keeping you steady. You’re both met with a loud laugh and are pulled in for a hug when your mother opens the door. “Oh! Sweetheart, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you! You certainly look like you’re eating well.” You did not miss those passive-aggressive comments at all, so you hand her the flowers with a tight-lipped smile, mumbling something about just having more time to make the food you enjoy, 

And being the attentive boyfriend that he is, Joel senses your discomfort immediately. He turns on his southern charm and throws one of those gorgeous smiles at your mother, complimenting her cooking and how good it smells in here. “If her cooking is any indicator, I’ll be asking for a to-go bag tonight.” Your mother just blushes and goes on about how her food isn’t that good but she hopes he likes it. You grin, watching the two of them interact helping your nerves dissipate slightly. Joel was always a charmer, that’s why you were drawn to him, he knew how to make you feel safe which was something you had seldom felt in this house. 

You’re sitting on one of the chairs, head leaning against his shoulder while he laughs at something your mother says. It finally feels like you can breathe like you don't have to put your guard up because Joel does it for you. And then suddenly it’s like the floor is being ripped out from under you as your father makes his way downstairs. It was like you were 16 again begging to get his approval for anything, waiting for the day someone would whisk you out of that house. You sit up straight and move your head from Joel’s shoulder and let your eyes dart to his, and he is visibly angry. Joel knows about your father, the fights and the screaming matches, the way you were so similar it made you sick, and he just could never understand how someone would ever treat their child that way.

Now your father isn’t necessarily short but Joel was looming over him, eyes burning daggers in his direction as you both stood up to greet him. Joel’s hand envelopes your fathers in a grip that looks like it could break a bone and you give your father a curt nod and however much of a smile you can muster up with a quiet “hi dad.” only to be met with a grunt like you weren’t even worth sparing a few words to say hello to before muttering and going to sit on the couch. “It's alright Joel… he’s just like that baby... let it go.” you manage to press a kiss to his cheek to let him know you’re alright, it wasn’t like you were expecting the world's warmest greeting anyway. 

Joel tries to let it go. He really tries for you. But it is so hard being nice to someone who hurt the person you love. So he brings up Sarah, not out of spite really, he just loves to talk about his girl. “Comes up to visit almost every month, jobs got her real busy though,” he says, taking a sip of beer, eyes focussed on your father across the table. “Couldn't go without seein’ her.” Joel’s face immediately brightens up when he talks about Sarah, the pride he feels for his girl sparkling behind his eyes. 

Your father is not a man who is good at hiding his emotions, anger, and resentment showing clearly on his face. “‘M sure it’s nice to have a daughter who amounts to somethin’,” you feel your blood go cold for a moment, tears stinging in your eyes as you duck your head down to look at your plate very carefully. Joel’s hand is immediately squeezing yours, bringing you back down to earth, back to him. You take a deep breath to respond, but before you even get the chance, Joel’s voice is hurdling at your father. 

“Sure is. You’d understand what it would feel like if ya made any effort to be in her life.” The silence in the room is eerie. You cannot remember a single time in your life when your father didn’t have something to say, something to hurl at you in a fit of anger, only to claim it never happened after the fact. You feel Joel squeeze your hand again as your father shoves a forkful of food into his mouth, not making eye contact with either of you. Your mother just looks between Joel and your father silently, apparently still unwilling to stand up for you. You press your eyes shut for a moment at the absurdity of it all; the absurdity of bringing Joel to meet your parents, of him trying to defend you, at the idea that you had truly believed that your parents would have changed. You knew better than to hope for things like that. 

The rest of the dinner passes in relative silence, save for a few questions your mother asks Joel about his work and a minor argument that ensues because Joel mentions his love for the UT Longhorns after your father brings up his love for the Aggies. You roll your eyes at Joel when he throws up the Hook ‘Em hands before you get up to wash the dishes, only stopping when Joel tugs at your wrist. You look down at where he’s sitting, eyebrows raised at you because you're well aware that washing the dishes is his job “Baby it’s okay, I'll just do them today”

Joel just shakes his head and pulls at your wrist again, essentially pulling you back into your chair. “Don’t think so angel, you know that’s my job,” you giggle with a small nod of your head before the both of you turn to look at your father who is scoffing from his seat. “‘S there a problem?” 

Your father rolls his eyes at Joel, clearly still upset about how dinner went. “Just think you should let the woman do the woman’s job, ain't yours to do.” Your father barks that out with such ease that Joel thinks he sees red for a second. He grew up helping his mamma around the house when he was younger and became even more fond of cooking and cleaning when Sarah was born, so it is safe to say that he doesn’t agree with the idea that housework is a “woman's job.”

You know how Joel feels about this but your father is getting irritated again and you’re not sure if you’ll be able to take another argument between them, so you’re trying to grab the plates from Joel again. But stubborn as he is, Joel does not let up, especially if it means letting your father think that he’s right. “I don’t think so, sweet girl. Ain’t the 1950’s anymore, if you’re too pussy to wash a dish wouldn’t consider you a real man.” Your mouth falls open slightly, and you try to bite back your smile when your father huffs and gets up from the table muttering something about not knowing a real man if it bit him in the ass. 

You finish helping your mother put leftovers in the fridge, save for a bag filled to the brim with leftovers for Joel, and catch a glimpse of Joel smirking happily to himself while the sink runs hot over his hands. You sneak behind him and press a kiss on his shoulder blade, letting your hands snake around his waist. “I’ll be honest baby, kinda hot watching you tell him off like that..” You hear him huff out a laugh before he shuts the water off and spins you around in his arms, pressing a kiss to your lips before letting his mouth drop to your neck. You giggle as he nips at your skin lightly, but push him off gently after a moment. “They’re gonna see you, Mr. Miller, gonna get me in trouble.”

“Is that so?” his hands are on your waist, prints from the water on your shirt. He grins down at you, eyes glinting with mischief. “let ‘em see baby, not their little girl anymore, all mine now.” He presses another kiss to your neck, finding the spot right above your pulse point and drawing a small mewl from between your lips, before standing up straight and letting go of your waist, a grin plastered to his face. 

“You’re an absolute menace, you know that?” You squint your eyes at him, poking a finger into his chest, eliciting a laugh to tumble from his mouth. You give him a small kiss again and find yourself smiling into it. “‘M ready to go home now baby,” you murmur against the plush of his lips, wanting to feel his hands on your body again. Joel simply nods and grabs your purse for you while you say an awkward goodbye to your parents. You take your purse from his hands and open the door only to be met with the sight of rain. You were used to how quickly Austin would flood when a storm hit, you had grown up with it, but you hadn’t checked the weather and this was certainly dampening your plans to go home. 

You turn around to face Joel, eyebrows furrowed and before either of you can say anything your mother is swooping in. “Well, now I cannot send you two out in this weather! I have your old room set up still, and Joel can take the guest room!” Your eyes lock with Joel's, taking in the look of shock on his face. You should have assumed that your parents would be weird about letting Joel stay in the same room as you, despite living with him, but you were still caught off guard. 

You say your goodnights and thank yous, your father’s grip on Joel’s hand dangerously tight, before showing Joel up to the guest room giggling about having to be apart for the night. “Dunno how I’ll be able to sleep without you angel,” he groans sitting down on the old guest bed. 

You roll your eyes and kiss the scar on his nose “Sure you’ll be okay for one night cowboy, I’ll see you in the morning, ‘kay?” He just scrunches up his nose in response and plants a few more kisses on your lips before letting you walk out to your room. You can hear him exaggerate a sigh as you close the door and walk back to your old bedroom. You grin to yourself before walking into your room, taking in the sight of what used to be yours. Your hands skim over your dresser, the drawers mostly empty from when you packed in haste to move in with Joel, dried petals from the last bouquet of flowers he had gotten you still sitting in a small jewelry box. Pink sheets, pink pillows, and at least five stuffed animals still sit in their perfect setting on your bed, and a pang of guilt for leaving them bubbles up inside of you. You sigh and pull out an old shirt from the drawer and slip into it, foregoing pants and just staying in your panties. 

You spread out on the bed making futile attempts to fall asleep. It wasn’t like you needed Joel to be next to you, but you missed his hand draped around your waist and the way his body was a literal furnace to the point where you had to take the blankets off. Your mind cannot stop thinking about him. The way his hand was on the small of your back when you came into the house, the way he stood up for you when your father was speaking, the taste of his lips when he pulled you in for one last kiss before you left his room. You let your fingers trail down your body, sneaking into your panties and letting out a shaky sigh when you feel the slick pooling between your legs, eyes falling shut for a moment before situating a pillow between your legs. You press your face softly into one of the stuffed animals Joel had given you, the smell of him just barely lingering in it, and start to grind your hips down on the pillow. Your breath hitches when you feel the pressure on your clit through your panties, moans muffled by the bunny as you grind your hips down chasing your pleasure. Your eyes are still shut imagining Joel, lost in your pleasure until you hear a low whistle behind you, making your head whip around, your heart pounding a mile a minute. 

And there he is. Joel is leaning against your door, when he got in is beyond you, his eyes are hungry and locked in on you, eyebrows raising when you stop to turn around. “Why’re you stopping, baby? Go on, put on a show for me.” Your mouth opens to answer, but he’s cutting you off with a small tsk and a shake of his head “Nuh-uh. Don't get shy on me now, sweet thing, keep going.” His voice leaves no room for discussion, and his hands are on your waist pulling you flush with the pillow again. You whine when his hands leave your body, and try to turn around to grab at him. He pins your hips back down to the pillow, a low noise leaving his throat. “Like you were before, wanna see what you used to do when you miss me” 

A whimper leaves your mouth and you lay your head back down on the bed, pussy grinding on the pillow again. You move your hips back and forth, breathing becoming heavier as you angle your hips a bit higher and you bite back a whine as you clench around nothing “Joel please-” you plead, looking up at him over your shoulder with wide eyes,  “want you to touch me,” A small shudder movies through your body as you whine at him again. 

He just shakes his head at you, eyes not leaving your clothed cunt, “Not yet baby.” He brings his hands back to your waist and traces small circles into the skin just above your panties. 

  “but-” You keep grinding but throw a pout at him trying to get his decision to sway. 

He swats at your ass, not hard enough to leave a mark but enough to be a good warning “You arguing with me baby?” His eyebrows are raised, the look in his eyes not one that wants to deal with a brat tonight. 

You shake your head with a pitiful no sir and keep grinding on the pillow, your panties fully drenched by now. You feel your hips start to stutter as your climax catches up with you, a sheen of sweat covering your body. Your stomach is clenching and your breaths are ragged, “Joel- fuck gonna cum, oh god- fuck-” You babble at him, words muffled, legs trembling lightly, and eyes falling shut as you’re hit with your orgasm, face falling into the stuffed bunny again. 

You try to steady your breaths after coming down from your high, eyes still closed until you feel his hands sneak around your waist and under your shirt, grabbing your tits softly. “Fuck, you’re such a filthy girl, probably did this all the time when you thought about me? Desperate fucking thing.” You groan into his touch, and arch your back into him when he pulls you flush against his chest. He grabs at the hem of your shirt, before pulling it off and tossing it to one of the corners of the room, fingers playing with your sensitive nipples. You let out a squeak when he tugs at them before he lets go and presses his hand over your mouth. “Quiet. Gonna wake up your parents, or is that what you want, hmm?” His hand dips into your panties, rough fingers swirling over your clit “wanna get caught in the room you grew up in?” 

A whine leaves your mouth, muffled behind his hand, as you try to grind into his fingers. He brings his hand back to your nipple, flicking at the nub and making you jump. “Joel please- need it” You plead as he circles your clit. 

Joel pauses, drawing a pathetic whimper to leave your lips. “Came already and want another one? Greedy fucking thing” You nod at his words before yelping when he throws you down onto the bed and pulls you down to the edge of the bed by your ankles. He throws your legs over his shoulders and you buck your hips into the air, trying to catch his touch. He rests his head on the plush of your thigh, eyes on yours, waiting for you to ask for what you want. 

Your eyes are pleading with his, hoping that you can get out of having to beg by batting your lashes at him. “I’ll be so good for you, please.” your lip trembles a bit, hips still moving in the air, trying to get into his mouth. He relents and his lips press against your thighs, his stubble scratching at it gently, before pressing a kiss to your clit, making you jump softly. “Fuckk thank you.” Your head falls back as his tongue sweeps over your weeping cunt, his arm pinning your hips down to keep you from bucking into his face. 

His tongue dips into your slit, making your back arch off the bed as your hands fist in his hair. His lips wrap around your clit, and your hand clamps over your mouth to stop the obscene noises you were making from leaving it. His fingers tease your entrance before slipping into you and thrusting in and out at the same pace he was flicking his tongue. You feel your thighs start to tremble and clench around his head, your grip on his hair growing tighter as you feel your second orgasm hit you, red hot in the bottom of your spine, and up to the tingling in your fingers. Joel’s pace does not slow down as he coaxes you through it, hitting all the right spots. “Fuck look at her baby.” He says pulling his fingers out of you and spreading your slick over your pussy. “Fucking weeping for me. I’ll give her what she needs don't worry” 

His fingers press against your lips, and you let them into your mouth, tasting yourself off of him and groaning at the taste. He drags his spit-covered fingers down your chest, relishing in the fucked out look on your face. He takes off his jeans letting his cock spring free, dumb bastard going commando at your parents' house, and spits into his hand before fisting his cock in your line of sight. You whine at him, pouting your lips at him, cunt dripping down your thighs onto your bed. He chuckles at you and brings his hands to your waist, before slipping his cock into you, a hiss leaving your lips at the stretch. “Look at that sweet girl, taking me so well.” He moves so his cock is buried to the hilt in your cunt, the coarse hair that surrounds him pressing into your pelvis. 

You try to rock against him, to gain any friction. “Joel please move... please I want it” You plead with him, hands moving to wrap around his wrist. “Gonna be so good for you Daddy, please” And that does him in. He lets out a groan and thrusts into you with enough force to move your headboard. His cock is hitting you in just the right spot, filling you up almost too much. 

You feel yourself clench around him as his hand tightens around your waist, one of your legs wrapped around his back, pulling him in deeper. “Gonna fill you up so good angel,” he says as your pussy clenches around him like it was begging for his cum. “Make you all mine, show everyone who you belong to,” his thrusts are growing messier, and you can feel another orgasm building in the pit of your stomach, and it’s almost too much. Your toes curl and you meet his thrusts as you let out a pathetic slew of pleasepleasepleaseplease before you feel him cumming inside you with a soft pant of your name. You feel him pull out of you slowly, his cock replaced with his fingers. “Said I was gonna make you mine, gotta make sure it takes.” His fingers collect the cum that leaks out of you in the most obscene way and pushes it back into you, as a shaky breath leaves your lips at the depravity of his words. 

“Fuck thank you, baby,” You manage to get out after what feels like an eternity of recovering from your orgasm. Joel shoots you a sleepy grin, before wrapping his clean hand around yours and laying his head down on your chest, looking up at you with love in his eyes. 

“I should be thanking you, sweet girl. Did so fucking good for me” You grin and look down at him with sleepy eyes and run a hand through his hair. 

“You know you gotta get back to the guest room right?” You ponder, realizing the situation that you were in. The idea of your mother waking up to find you naked and stuffed full of Joel’s cum was horrifying. 

Joel just grins back up at you, pressing a kiss to the underside of your breast before pushing himself up off your bed and peeking at the window. “Dunno baby.. Rain stopped a while ago, I'm ready to just get outta here.” He raises his eyebrows at you, sliding back into his jeans as you drop your arm over your face with a dopey smile playing across your lips. 

“So long as you carry me to the truck, I'm game, baby” You bite your lip and smile up at him as he tosses your dress at you before he scoops you up and tromps down the stairs quietly and puts you into the passenger seat before getting in and pulling out of the driveway. “Thank you for being there tonight baby.. I love you.”

Joel just smiles at you, half asleep in his passenger’s seat, and runs a hand over your knee before grabbing your hand and pressing a kiss to it. “Love you too angel. Don’t plan on ever making you come up here again though” You just giggle and lace your fingers through his, extremely content to just spend the rest of your days with Joel, not worried about your parents.

A/N: From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free READ: This account stands with Palestine unequivocally, and so— I require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this. DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist. PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS.  Thank you for reading, and free Palestine

[idiotmf]

omg please write a piece about reader getting fucked by a ghost i neeeeed it

Hey, anon! Fear not, I shall deliver. I wasn't sure whether you wanted afab or amab, so I went with the usual afab. I'm happy to rewrite it into amab, if anyone wants it!（＾ω＾）

Edit: Here is the amab version!

Feel free to send me asks and requests or little imagines, I'm always happy to expand upon it, it gets the creative juices flowing a little. ^-^

NSFW, Minors DNI, I can see you.

TW: dub-con

Anyway, enough talk. Here's Reader getting not-so-respectfully railed by a ghost:

When your grandma left you a house after she passed, you assumed your troubles would finally be over, and for a while, they were. When you moved in, things were amazing. You didn't have to worry about rent anymore, and the utilities were surprisingly cheap. It's like you hit the jackpot, finally able to live with a few less worries.

Obviously, when you weren't working or hanging out with the odd friend that came over, you spent your time at home, keeping yourself occupied, mostly by either watching something, playing something, or masturbating out of boredom.

Things continued like that for a while, until you found a rather cryptic note from your late grandma that explained in unnecessary detail how there was a ghost living in the house. She strictly referred to the ghost as "him" and mentioned he was fairly friendly, unless provoked, and even then he would only play pranks on you.

Being the rational person that you are, you chalked it up to grandma being senile and that she was just keeping herself entertained since she lived in the house all alone. It would have been fine if that's where it stopped.

One night, your old friend came over, and you did your usual routine of watching something, and then halfway through, you ended up fucking. That's where it really all began.

The next morning, things were on the ground, not like someone had ransacked the place, but it was noticeable enough, though of course you thought it must've been just your old friend who had knocked some stuff over while leaving in a hurry. When you went to bend over to pick some things up, you could feel something grabbing your ass, and without hesitation, you turned around, only to be faced with nothing. Maybe you were going crazy, you thought; it wasn't an awfully strong grip, so maybe it was something your body did.

This excuse became increasingly less effective as time went on. You felt hands everywhere and at the worst times. Caressing your arms and legs, tracing your stomach and back. Eventually it got to the point where you could feel a hand slipping into your pants, playing with your clit. Of course, you were scared at first. Something was clearly there, and it reminded you of the letter your grandma left you.

You began shouting at the ghost. Telling it to stop fucking around and leave you alone. However, the ghost didn't really care; you broke his one rule that he had agreed on with your grandma, and even if you didn't know, he was going to punish you. How dare you bring another man into his house and have the audacity to fuck him?

His touching escalated the more you allowed him. Eventually you noticed a mouth and a wet tongue licking your neck, tracing down to your breasts. It seemed strange, considering you were usually clothed when this happened, yet it felt like it was touching your skin directly. The licking felt nothing like what your old friend would do, although in truth the sex with him wasn't all that good and really just a way to get fucked every once in a while.

Before you knew it, multiple hands were all over you, joined by at least three tongues licking you. This made no sense; you wondered if there were multiple ghosts. It became increasingly difficult to even find the logic in this when you were constantly being groped and licked. One tongue had found its permanent place on your sensitive nub, flicking and sucking it with every move you made; one was carelessly sucking on one of your nipples, alternating with one hand that usually played with the other one. The third mouth seemed to like making out with you, its tongue constantly shoved in your mouth, wrestling yours.

Despite feeling all these ministrations as if they were real, when you looked at your reflection, there was nothing there. Your mouth was gaping, but nothing was in it; your panties were soaked beyond belief most of the time, yet nothing seemed to be there. But truly, the worst part about it all was that it wouldn't let you finish. Whenever you were just about to cum, the mouth disappeared before continuing its torture. It took about two days before you couldn't take it anymore, pleading with the ghost to let you cum. It didn't listen, though it did use more hands to restrict you when you went to touch yourself before shoving something inside of you.

It wasn't much of a sensation, and you felt it curl, so you naturally assumed it was the finger of another hand. “Please,” you began whimpering every other minute, your tone getting more needy with every ruined orgasm that he put you through as minutes began to feel like hours.

“I'll do anything,” you finally managed to choke out through tears as he played with your sodden pussy for what you could only register as an eternity again, bent over the kitchen counter, legs held apart, wrists gripped tightly by the ghost. For a moment, there was nothing but stillness; all the mouths stopped what they were doing, and most of the hands disappeared too, except the ones keeping you in place.

“Anything?” A shiver ran down your spine as you heard the noise that you assumed to be the ghost's voice. It sounded distant and more like the wind howling than a human voice, yet you knew immediately who it was. You nodded, the tears running down your face falling onto the kitchen counter, your twitching cunt trying to feel any sort of stimulation now that the mouths and hands were gone.

“Yes, anything.” The words came out before you could even attempt to stop them, accompanied by a howling sound, which made you wonder whether it was meant to be a laugh or not.

Another few moments passed before a loud noise forced itself out of your mouth at the sensation of something stretching you open. It was long and thick, covered in strange bumps, providing nothing but the most torturous pleasure as it thrust into your hungry cunt at a punishing pace.

Despite your mind still questioning whether this was okay and logical, your body was writhing against the kitchen counter, hands still held still by him, your legs forced apart as he fucked you from behind. No matter how much you attempted to stop it from happening, desperate, high-pitched mewling sounds escaped your lips at a rapid rate as you felt another orgasm approach, hoping this would be the one to finally let you cum after two days of torture.

“What a willing little slut,” the ghost taunted with his howling voice, making him sound distant yet all around you at once. The insults made you mewl louder; something about being used like this by a ghost made your pussy clench harder.

In a small moment of defiance, you glanced back at what might be behind you, but just as expected, there was nothing. Despite your pussy being stretched to an almost painful level, gaping around air, no figure was there to account for it.

Just as your orgasm threatened to spill over, something was shoved into your mouth, making your jaw hurt, before it found its way down your throat, drowning out your mewls and desperate groans.

“Be quiet, whore. I'm not done with you yet.” With those words, your eyes fluttered closed as you let this torture continue for another minute or two, pussy and throat both stuffed full with invisible cocks, bigger than any human's you've ever had. The thought alone was enough to trigger your orgasm, finally sending you over that sweet edge with a loud groan that only came out as a hum. Your body went limp from the impact, and you saw stars in front of your eyes, the ghost holding you up by your wrists as if it were nothing.

Without a word or even a moment to spare, he kept slamming into you, the bumps rubbing against your insides, making you feel like you were stuck in a never-ending orgasm for a moment before it did finally subside, though you could feel the cocks twitch, their movements becoming more erratic and aggressive. You tried to say something, but your throat was simply too stuffed to make any worthwhile noise.

Suddenly, you felt a hot sensation in both of your holes, almost making you gag and cry in pain, as the sheer amount of ectoplasmic seed forced its way into your womb and down your throat, spilling back into your mouth, even running down your chin. Before you could fully register what happened, you were dropped, the ghost probably leaving you to deal with the aftermath. As you lay there, the sheer amount of cum almost formed a small puddle on the ground, your fucked-out pussy leaking more as you desperately tried to swallow the remnants in your mouth.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

hiii omg istg your modern jace works have been living in my mind RENT FREE THEY'RE SO DAMN GOOD but like a modern college jace bringing reader to meet rhaenyra and his brothers for the first time would be soooo cute, like i feel like joffery would LOVE that his big bro had a gf and would like pull her to colour with him and do stuff like that and rhaenyra would love her like a daughter, luke would LOVE embarrassing himm <3

Season 2 is premiering right now, but I have to wait until 10pm to watch since I don't have access to HBO Max... Please come to my ask and send me requests/let's talk about the new episode!! I will be opening them after I watch and giving my thoughts on the episode every weeks 🐉⚔️🖤

Thank you  so much for the love for modern!Jace. I really enjoy writing about him. This one was challenging to write as there was a lot of people to write about. I hope you like it!!

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

When Jacaerys came home for Thanksgiving, he didn’t tell his family about you. You had only been dating for a couple of weeks and were still getting to know each other. It was too soon to announce that he had someone in his life. But a mother's instinct never fails to recognize the smile on her son’s face whenever he looks at his phone or the hushed phone call she had heard when she walked by Jace’s bedroom. 

Although she wanted to know everything about Jace’s new girlfriend, Rhaenyra respected her son’s privacy and let him tell her in his own time. That was until Luke spilled the beans after coming across a picture on social media where Jace was holding and kissing a girl’s cheek.  

In typical brothers behavior, Jace sent a lot of middle finger emojis to Luke for spilling to their mother. 

After a long phone call with her, a date was set. Joffrey’s birthday was coming up, so Rhaenyra saw it as a good opportunity to meet you. And Joffrey would love for his big brother to be there on his seventh birthday since he missed it last year. 

‘’Mom, we’re home!’’ Jace called as he opened the door of his childhood house, carrying small bags for your weekend stay. 

The sound of footsteps on the second floor filled the small entryway as Jace dropped the bags with a thud, making you jump. You took a deep breath, your nerves getting the best of you.

‘’It’s going to be fine. They’re gonna love you,’’ Jace reassured you, kissing your temple sweetly before an overexcited Joffrey came down the stairs. ‘’Here’s the birthday boy!’’ 

Joffrey hugged Jace, happy that he was home. It must not be easy for him to not see Jace everyday anymore. 

More footsteps came from the back of the house as Rhaenyra, with a blond toddler in her arms, came to greet you. Her warm smile was welcoming. You couldn't help but notice how Jace's features mirrored hers. Except for the hair and eyes. He must have gotten them from his father. 

‘’Hi. It’s lovely to meet you,’’ she said, her voice kind and genuine. ‘’I would give you a hug, but I’m worried Viserys is going to try to pull on your hair… He picked up this bad habit last week and we’re working on it.’’ 

You smiled, feeling a bit more at ease. ‘’No worries, it’s nice to meet you too, Mrs. Targaryen,’’ you replied, glancing at the curious toddler who was eyeing you with fascination. 

‘’Please, call me Rhaenyra.’’

Joffrey tugged at your and Jace’s sleeves, his eyes wide with excitement. ‘’Come, I want to show you my birthday cake. There’s a big dragon on it.’’ 

Rhaenyra was quick to correct the young boy, laughing dryly. ‘’There is no birthday cake in this house.’’ 

You chuckled politely, figuring out that Joffrey must have seen the cake by accident and Rhaenyra was trying to keep it a surprise. 

‘’Jace told me you have a massive dragon collection,’’ you said, driving the young boy’s attention to something else than the birthday cake. ‘’Is that true?’’ 

Joffrey grinned and began to tell you all about his dragons. He fetched some from the playing room and brought them over to show you on the couch, giving you all sorts of information about dragons. There was one of every color and size. Some had horns and a threatening stare, while others looked simply beautiful. 

While you were occupied with Joffrey, Jace went upstairs to drop your bags in his bedroom. When it came back, he watched the two of you from the corner, finding it sweet how quick Joffrey took a liking to you. He was usually shy around new people. 

‘’Where’s Luke and Aegon?’’ 

Rhaenyra set Viserys down on the floor so he could play with his blocks, and shook her head. ‘’I don’t know. Probably upstairs. Aegon is with Daemon in the backyard. Since we cleaned the old playset, he always wants to go outside.’’ 

Leaning over the banister, Jace called out to Luke.  ‘’Luke! Come here, you little shi—’’ 

‘’Language,’’ Rhaenyra scolded, her eyes pointing at Joffrey and Viserys. 

He apologized and you bit back a smile. He truly was a mama’s boy.

You didn’t meet Aegon and Daemon — Jace’s step father — until dinner. The latter looked intimidating, but he kindly smiled at you as you shook his hand. As he was helping his wife getting the food on the table, she gave him a subtle nod of approval, silently telling him that she liked you.

‘’I told you my mom would like you,’’ Jace said, pulling you with him in the hallway while the younger ones were being bathed and put to bed. His arms were around you, chasing your worries away.

You took a deep breath, feeling the tension leave your body as you smiled up at him. ‘’Now I know where you got your kindness and charm from.’’ 

‘’You think I’m charming?’’ 

Rolling your eyes, you tried to get away, but Jace didn’t let you. 

‘’Joffrey is very fond of you too,’’ he continued, his eyes sparkling with amazement. ‘’I’ve never seen him so at ease with someone he doesn’t know.’’ 

‘’He gave me a full lesson about dragons. He is so sweet.’’ 

Hearing this made Jace happy. For him, family was very important, so it meant a lot to him that you were getting along with his family. 

His gaze softened, his eyes locking onto yours before leaning down to kiss you. Your fingers gripped the fabric of his zip-up hoodie, kissing him back until  a loud, exaggerated gagging sound broke through the moment. 

You both turned to see Luke standing at the end of the hallway, a mischievous grin plastered on his face. 

‘’Do you want to see Jace as a baby?’’ Luke asked with gleeful enthusiasm. ‘’He had chubby cheeks…like Theodore from Alvin and the Chipmunks.’’

Jace groaned in embarrassment and you chuckled, imagining baby Jace with chubby cheeks. ‘’I’d love to see those photos,’’ you teased, nudging Jace playfully.

But Luke wasn't done. ‘’Do you know why there is no school picture of him in fifth grade?’’ he continued, leaning against the wall, clearly relishing the moment. ‘’There was this guy at school who was bullying me and Jace decided to put his big brother pants on and take him on a fight. This guy was two inches taller than him and much bigger, so Jace lost and fell, which knocked his front tooth out the night before picture day at school.’’

You laughed, picturing a brave little Jace standing up for his brother. ‘’You’ve always been protective, I see,’’ you said, turning to Jace.  A small smile tugged at his lips. ‘’Okay. Luke, that’s enough,’’ Jace decided, taking you away from him before more embarrassing stories could come out of his brother’s mouth.

—

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[ninetailedfoxmanchi]

Mafia! BTS - They Want to Spoil You

Warnings: /

A/N: They realize you're not well-off or are even struggling financially and that makes them want to take care of you even more. Per popular request <3.

MASTERLIST

Jin

Jin was already lying in bed when you got out of the bathroom. You grabbed your pyjamas from your bag as he watched you change.

"Oh no ..." you mumbled when you saw that the seams in your side tore and left a gap in your top. "Can I borrow a t-shirt?" you asked as you turned to your boyfriend but you already knew the answer. You were beginning to suspect too that Jin even preferred it if you wore his clothes.

"Do you need new pyjamas?"

"No, I'll just sew this up and they'll be like new again," you told as you grabbed Jin's t-shirt from one of the dressers.

"Just get a new pair," said Jin as he sat leaning against his pillow.

"I can already barely get through the month, I can't just buy new clothes whenever there's a tear in them," you laughed as you pulled on Jin's white t-shirt. You climbed into the bed but your smile faded when you saw Jin frowning.

"Are you okay?" you asked gently and scooted closer to him.

"You barely get through the month?" asked Jin seriously. Your mouth parted and your face went blank. Your cheeks turned pink as you thought about how much less you earned compared to Jin. You had made your peace with it already when you two began dating but the difference between your incomes and savings never crossed Jin's mind.

"It's not that bad," you smiled and tried to reassure your boyfriend. "I have a beginner's salary, it's normal."

"It's not normal if you're struggling," said Jin sternly as he sat up straight and his hand cupped your cheek. "Let me take care of you." He frowned even worse.

"You don't have to take care of me, Jin, I'm fine, really," you insisted although the past few months have been really tight for you financially. Your rent took most of the money whilst you were staying at Jin's place the majority of the nights. Then there was the food and the bills, the everyday things and the public transport. Your phone was so battered that the screen had began to flicker a couple of weeks ago.

A look so determined filled Jin's eyes that it began to worry you a little.

"Please don't think about it anymore, Jinnie," you begged as you took his cheeks and kissed him. He struggled to respond at first, his mind in a storm, but he couldn't resist your soft lips.

The next day when you woke up, you reached for the nightstand blindly to check the time on your phone but you couldn't find it. You rose your head and frowned when your phone was nowhere to be seen.

"Have you seen my phone?" you mumbled sleepily when you came into the living area, finding Jin already dressed in another one of his perfect outfits. It must have been late in the morning judging by the daylight if not close to noon. Jin liked to sleep in as well but not that day. He had been up since early morning.

"Here you go, princess," said Jin as he handed you a phone.

"This isn't my phone?" you asked confused and tried to give it back to Jin. It seemed brand new so you figured he changed his.

"It's your phone," insisted Jin, his eyes still filled with the same unbending look as the night before. You frowned and tapped the screen. The background was the same as on your phone, the contacts and the apps, everything was the same but the machine itself.

You looked up and finally noticed the dozens of bags lying around on the sofa and the coffee table.

"What's all this?" you breathed, your frown only deepening.

"You bought this for yourself, princess," said Jin as he took your free hand and placed a black card in your palm.

"N-No, I didn't," you backed away but tried to give the card back to Jin at the same time. He didn't even look at your hand.

"Jin, please," you begged when you realized what he was doing. "I don't need any of this—"

"Y/N," warned Jin when he turned to you. "Not another word." His hands caressed your neck gently before they moved up to your jaw and made you look up at him. He leaned in slowly and kissed you, silencing any protests that might want to come out of your mouth.

"I'll know if you won't use the card, Y/N," he cautioned against your lips, sending shivers down your spine, but you only wanted another kiss. Jin backed away when you searched for his plush lips again. You opened your eyes, seeing the stern look on Jin's handsome face.

"Just let me take care of you, princess," he spoke quietly, his chest vibrating with the deepness of his voice. You nodded weakly, folding at the prospect of Jin's affection. True to your presumptions, he rewarded you with another tender kiss.

Namjoon

You found your boyfriend sitting on the sofa, checking something on his laptop when you took a seat beside him.

"Are you busy?" you asked quietly, not wanting to disturb him.

"No, it's just some stupid emails," said Namjoon absently, his eyes scanning through the unnecessarily long blocks of text. "What is it, baby?"

"I was just ... I was wondering if ..." You cleared your throat as you squeezed your hands nervously. "If you could maybe lend me some money," you asked with difficulty. Your cheeks flushed pink in embarrassment when Namjoon tore his gaze from his laptop and looked at you, his eyebrows furrowing into a heavy frown.

"I'd pay you back everything," you said quickly. "It's just for rent—"

"What do you mean you'd pay me back?" asked Namjoon sternly, a tempest of thoughts behind his dark irises.

"I'll get my paycheck next week and I'll pay you back every cent, I promise," you explained although the demanding look on his features gave you little hope. His pensive eyes studied your face wordlessly. "It's okay if you don't want to, I'll ask my mom—"

"For rent?" Namjoon cut you off. His frown only grew deeper as he struggled to understand what you were asking.

"It's okay, I shouldn't have asked; I know it's weird," you said quickly and took Namjoon's hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. You tried to get up but he caught your wrist and pulled you back down.

"How much do you make?" demanded Namjoon. His voice was gentle but no less inquisitive. Your face went blank as more heat rose to your face. You didn't even make a hundredth of what Namjoon was bringing in in your first job as a beginner with no position.

"You know I don't make as much as you do," you swallowed. Even though your answer gave little information, Namjoon realized for the first time since you began dating that you might be financially unstable. He knew what you did and you liked your job but since money was never an issue for him, he never considered it might be an issue for you.

"I'll take care of it," nodded Namjoon and smoothed his thumb gently across your cheek before he got up.

"Take care of what?" you asked wide-eyed as you stared up at him. "Namjoon, I just need—"

"I'll take care of it," repeated Namjoon and gave your forehead a kiss as he buttoned his suit jacket. He grabbed his phone and his wallet and made for the door.

"Namjoon," you called again but he was adamant and gone.

A few hours later, you were looking through the fridge to think of some ideas for dinner when Namjoon came back. He set down a brown folder on the kitchen isle with a credit card on top of it before he pulled off his jacket and came to you for a kiss. You closed the fridge blindly as you responded to his lips but your mind was on the folder.

"What's this?" you asked as you removed the card from the brown paper and opened the file. It was a title deed with your name on it as part of a property transfer. The apartment in question was your rental paid in full and written in your name. Your eyebrows gathered into a frown as your mouth parted and your stomach gave a nervous squeeze.

"I told you I'd take care of it," said Namjoon easily and grabbed some orange juice from the fridge. You stared at him, your frown as deep as ever.

"You bought my apartment?" you asked astounded.

"No, you bought your apartment," said Namjoon as he drank the cold juice from a crystal glass. His fingers sat down on top of the dark credit card and he pushed it towards you. The letters of your name were engraved on the luxurious-painted plastic.

"Are you insane?" you blurted, your chest riddled with guilt. You were used to working hard for everything you had and hated accepting things from others. Even birthday gifts if too extravagant made you uncomfortable.

"I can't accept this, I won't accept this, Namjoon," you insisted although you could see it on his face that you were shouting in deaf ears. Your boyfriend was one of the most intransigent people in the world and when he decided on something there was no changing his mind.

"It's yours," said Namjoon nonchalantly, "Whether you like it or not."

Your eyes flinched in the direction of the crackling fireplace as you held the folder in your hands. Namjoon followed your gaze and smiled with amusement.

"I have a digital copy, baby," said Namjoon as he came closer to you. "The apartment is yours and so is the card." His arms wrapped around your waist as he pulled you to him, his forehead almost leaning against yours whilst you stared up at him.

"I'll know if you won't spend anything," he purred a warning and came even closer. "And I won't like it if you don't spend anything." His deep voice gave you goosebumps as your eyes flicked down to his plush lips.

"I want to spoil you, baby," said Namjoon against your soft mouth. "You should let me." He closed the space between your lips and kissed you deeply enough for the folder to fall from your hands as he pulled your waist to his hips.

Yoongi

"Fuck ..." you mumbled under your breath as you scrolled through the bills on your email, your back against the foot of the sofa and your laptop on the coffee table. Your stomach was in a tight knot. You tried to calculate the priorities but even that surpassed the amount that was left on your bank account from your last paycheck.

"What is it?" asked Yoongi as he sat on the sofa behind you, his legs on each side of your frame when he kissed the top of your head.

"Nothing," you whispered and closed your laptop quickly. You looked up and gratefully responded to Yoongi kissing your lips. His hand was caressing your neck gently, the cold rings on his long fingers giving you goosebumps as they made contact with your warm skin.

"You sure?" asked Yoongi when he pulled away a little. You set your eyes forward again and bit your lip as you nodded. Yoongi's hand glided around your neck and pushed back your soft hair as he began to run his fingers through it. You leaned your head against the sofa and closed your eyes.

"Tell me what's wrong," said Yoongi. His voice was deep and quiet but no less authoritative.

"Nothing's wrong," you insisted as you shook your head a little. Yoongi frowned more and more with each second. You didn't even have to open your eyes to see his expression. You knew that he knew that you were hiding something.

"You don't trust me anymore, jagi?" asked Yoongi. His hand came down to your cheek and caressed you gently. Your eyes opened at those words and you turned around to look at him.

"Of course I trust you," you spoke feverishly.

"Why won't you talk to me then?" said Yoongi as he tucked a lock of hair behind your ear.

"Because it's nothing," you lied. "And you'll worry and think that you have to fix it."

"Fix what?" pressed Yoongi. You groaned desperately and buried your face into the sofa. Yoongi seized the opportunity and opened your laptop behind your back, his eyes scanning over the bills.

"No, wait—" you tried to close the laptop when you noticed what he was doing but it was already too late. He saw everything.

"Yoongi, don't do anything," you begged as you got up to your knees and cupped his face. The look in his eyes was as hard and unmoving as a mountain and your words fell on deaf ears. He pulled the wallet from his back pocket and slid out a slick black credit card.

"Here you go, kitten, happy anniversary," said Yoongi as he offered you the card. You stood up with a frown.

"Our anniversary won't be for three months," you protested although that was far from Yoongi's point or yours for that matter. He stood up as well, took your hand and wrapped your fingers around his card.

"You can give me that card all you want but I won't spend a dime," you insisted. Yoongi turned to you slowly and took a good look at you. His eyes made your stomach dance with butterflies and fireworks.

"Fine," said Yoongi as he came closer to you. "Then I'll make you." His voice send shivers down your spine as he towered over you. He took your hand and you had no choice but to follow him. He drove you half-way across town until you arrived to a large glass building.

"Why are we here?" you questioned when Yoongi opened the car door for you. "Please, let's just go home." You took your boyfriend's hand but he wasn't paying your tugs no mind.

"Yoongi," you gasped under your breath and squeezed his hand tightly when he led you inside the Cartier boutique. It was too late to leave without causing a scene in front of the elegant saleswomen.

"Mr Min," said the older one of the two with her hair in a neat bun. "We're so happy to see you're back. It's been too long," smiled the other lady and took in the sight of you, giving you a warm smile as well.

"We have a very special thing for you," said the older lady and disappeared in the back.

"Yoongi," you pleaded in a whisper as you tugged on his hand a little but his fingers were tightly intertwined with yours. Yoongi looked down into your eyes, defeating you in an instance.

"This is one of our rarest and most sought after items, Mr Min," purred the older saleslady. She placed a beautiful red box on the glass counter before you and opened it with care. "This is out Panthere Maillon Etrier necklace in 18 carat white gold. It's distinguished for its geometric shape with the center of the necklace set with brilliant cut diamonds around 2,15 carats."

Your lips parted as your face went blank in the face of the exquisite piece of jewellery. You had never even stood in a jewellery shop, much less in Cartier itself. Yoongi observed your reaction for a while before he nodded to the saleslady.

"Very good," she smiled and motioned to her assistant to take care of the payment.

You realized that the purchase was agreed to and looked up at your boyfriend with wide eyes.

"Please," said the younger saleslady when she gestured elegantly at the payment terminal. Your gaze shifted between her, the astronomical number on the screen and Yoongi.

"Your card, kitten," said Yoongi as he stared down at you. You were still clutching to the black piece of plastic in your clammy hand. You swallowed before you inched the card closer to the terminal until it made a sound of approval.

"See? It's not that hard," purred Yoongi in your ear as his arm wrapped around your waist. You turned to him, your lips only inches apart. "You can use it for other things now too, kitten, and I'll know if you won't," he spoke quietly, his hot breath teasing your mouth as he slowly closed the space between you and kissed you greedily.

Hoseok

Although you have been dating Hoseok for a while now, you were never very comfortable talking about money with him. You grew up poor and even though you were just starting your first job now, you still struggled quite a lot. You didn't mind that Hoseok made a lot of money, you accepted that right in the beginning of your relationship, but you never wanted to talk about your situation because of that. Yet when you had a glass of wine too much with your dinner last week, you told Hoseok about your upbringing and how the notion of always having to save money was still rooted deep inside of you.

You shouldn't have said anything, though, because once Hoseok found out about it, he began to shower you with gifts every single day. You didn't mind him paying for meals when you went out but the gifts he was giving you now weren't anything short of luxurious.

"Hobi, I swear if you get me another thing—" you threatened when you saw the timeless Hermès Kelly on your nightstand. Your stomach twisted into knots just at the idea of how much it must have cost.

When you turned around with your index pointed at Hoseok, he was standing so close to you that the wind was knocked out of you. Your lips parted as Hobi towered over you.

"Or what?" he asked with an amused smile resting on his lips and in his dark eyes. You were at a loss for words. "Or what, kitten?" he asked again, taking another half a step closer to you and closed the space between your bodies.

"You should look what's inside, baby," Hoseok encouraged, enjoying every moment of seeing the puzzled and flushed look on your face.

You looked inside the leather bag hesitantly and found a creamy white jewellery box inside. It was already clutched in your fingers before you let it go and took a step back, your hands hugging your elbows as the corners of your eyebrows pulled downwards.

"I don't want it, you spoke weakly as Hoseok frowned at your reaction.

"You haven't even looked at it," said Hoseok but you shook your head and backed away some more.

"I don't want it - I didn't earn it and I sure as hell don't deserve it," you tried to leave the bedroom but Hoseok caught your wrist.

"Y/N," he called as he cupped your neck just beneath your jaw and made you look up at him but you were avoiding his eyes. "Y/N," Hoseok warned again and you looked at him. His frown softened when he saw the sad look on your face.

"That's the least of what you deserve, baby." He brushed his thumbs along the gentle line of your jaw. "Stop fighting me and let me take care of you." Hoseok leaned his forehead against yours, his closeness calming down your anxiety immediately. Your arms found their way around his sides as you came closer, pressing your cheek against his chest.

"It's okay, baby, you'll get used to it," Hoseok spoke gently against your hair before he kissed the top of your head, his hands caressing your back.

"Wear it to the opera tonight, baby," he said after a while. "Will you wear it for me, kitten?" Hoseok cupped your cheeks again and made you look up at him. You nodded a little. He smiled and leaned in, his thumbs caressing your soft skin as he kissed you tenderly.

When you finally found the courage to come near the bag and the jewellery box again, you were already wearing your evening dress. You opened the delicate velvet box and found a pearl necklace in 18 carat yellow gold. The letters Mikimoto were engraved in the satin interior of the box.

"Do you like it?" smiled Hoseok as he came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist before he pressed a soft kiss on your bare shoulder.

You nodded weakly as you studied the necklace without a breath in your lungs. "It's beautiful."

Hoseok took the necklace from the box as you scooped up your hair and the cold pearls made contact with your warm skin. Hoseok fastened the clip in the back and took your soft hair from your hands, his fingers letting them fall down your back.

"You're so beautiful, baby," purred Hoseok when his hands returned to your waist and pulled you to him as his lips left tender kisses along your shoulder.

Jimin

When you got back from work, you were surprised to find Jimin already at home. It was barely the afternoon and he sometimes stayed at the office until evening.

"Hey," you greeted softly as you cuddled up next to him on the sofa. You wrapped your arms around his sides and leaned against his chest but he didn't budge. Jimin was pretending to watch the TV and refused to even say hello.

You sat up perplexed as you studied your boyfriend's sullen frown.

"What's wrong?" you breathed, your chest heavy with guilt although you had no idea what you did wrong. You took your boyfriend's hand and squeezed it pleadingly but Jimin gave no reaction.

"Jimin-ah," you tried again, your voice almost cracking. You couldn't stand having him be upset with you, especially when you had no idea what could have made him react this way. Jimin was never upset with you no matter what, which is why his reaction affected you so much.

The desperation in your voice made Jimin break his harsh facade. He turned to you frowning no less.

"Why do you think I gave you that card?" said Jimin bitterly but you were lost. He leaned forward and grabbed the bank statement from the coffee table and showed it to you.

"You promised me that you would spend money on that card, Y/N," said Jimin when you read through the humble list of meals you had paid with Jimin's card, the 30 dollars that you had spent on buying some cute office supplies and the 20 dollars you had left at the bookstore.

"But I did," you insisted, showing Jimin the bank statement that he knew by heart now. He rolled his eyes and glared at you again. You had never seen him behave like this before. His jaw clenched as his eyes narrowed at you. A part of you knew that he wanted you to spend more money but there was nothing you really needed that much. After Jimin found out that you weren't exactly financially stable, he pulled the card right from his wallet and gave it to you.

"You promised me, Y/N," said Jimin and got up. Your wide eyes followed him and your lips were parted in shock. He grabbed his car keys and waited for you to get up as well.

"What are you doing?" you asked your boyfriend.

"I'm making you keep your promises to me, sweetheart," said Jimin darkly as he took your hand and led you down to his car.

Jimin drove you to the enormous glass building where he liked to shop. You had been there with him a hundred times before but the prices made your stomach twist into knots.

"Jimin, this isn't necessary—" you tried to reason with him but he only grabbed your hand and led you straight to Tiffany & Co.

"Jimin, please," you begged him as your chest grew heavy with guilt. The salespeople knew him. He already got you a pair of their earrings before but you had only worn them once to your anniversary dinner for fear of losing them.

Jimin picked out a 20 carat diamond necklace for you since he knew you'd refuse to choose any of the items the salespeople displayed especially for him.

Your boyfriend gave you his card and stared at you. He was still angry with you and the sight of it made your heart break.

"Jimin," you pleaded but he didn't budge. The lady at the cash registry waited patiently when the five digit number appeared on the payment terminal in front of you.

"Y/N," Jimin warned when he saw you hesitate. You swallowed and gave in. You pressed Jimin's card against the terminal and felt even worse when it gave a sound of approval.

Jimin took you to Dior next, then Celine, Balenciaga and even Chanel where his card caused more rings of approval from the payment terminal. Your boyfriend's frown, however, began to melt away when he saw you try on couture and get tended to from every direction by the salespeople.

Jimin leaned against the door frame of your dressing room as he watched you put on a beautiful white dress with a black ribbon that screamed Chanel. He glanced over his shoulder before he came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. Jimin leaned his chin against your shoulder as he watched you in the mirror.

"See? It's not that hard, baby," he purred before he pressed a soft kiss on your exposed neck and you couldn't help but lean back against him.

Taehyung

"What's this?" asked your boyfriend as he opened his bank statement. You looked up with big wide eyes and your heart sank a little. After Taehyung found out that you weren't exactly financially stable, he gave you his card and practically threatened you to spend money on it when you refused.

"I-I just ... " you began to stutter. You had bought yourself a new bag for your laptop and for the things you needed whenever you went to study or to work and a perfume that you knew Taehyung loved. Those were the kind of treats you could only afford once in a while on your own but since he encouraged you, you got them for yourself although it made you feel no less guilty.

"You said ... You said I should get a few things," you spoke carefully as you watched Taehyung's frown whilst he scanned the contents of his bank statement before his dark eyes turned to you.

"Why didn't you?" he asked sternly, showing you the slip. Your eyes turned into a different kind of wide when he spoke the opposite of what you imagined. You took the bank statement and saw your two items on there along with a few meals that you paid for with Taehyung's card.

"What do you mean? I got the bag," you gestured towards the beautiful accessory that was sitting at the foot of the sofa. "And I got the perfume - it's Gucci." Even saying the brand name weighed heavy on your tongue with guilt. You had never owned a luxurious brand item in your life before you met Taehyung.

"Yeah, and you got tteokbokki, bubble tea, two coffees and spent 12 dollars at a pizza place," Taehyung listed the rest of the items of places where the card was used.

"Do you want me to pay you back?" you asked unsure but that made Taehyung frown even deeper.

"Come on," he instructed as he took your hand and led you to his car. You watched him as he drove you to the city center and pulled up in front of Cartier.

"Tae—" you protested but he cut you off by getting out of the car. "Tae," you tried again when he grabbed your hand and took you inside the luxurious boutique.

"Mr Kim," the elegant saleswoman greeted the moment she saw your boyfriend and you enter their exclusive shop. "We're so glad to see you return, it's been a while." She smiled a bright smile when she saw you before she brought out a collection of their most exquisite items, timeless pieces inspired by art deco.

You tried to get your boyfriend's attention and get out of there but he would not so much as budge. He chose a sapphire and diamond bracelet for you. When the lady presented a six digit on the computer screen, your face grew hot with fever.

"Tae, don't—" you tried but Taehyung glared at you so intensely that you were at a loss for words. He showed you his card - your card - and pressed it against the payment terminal. Your mouth parted when the machine gave a happy sound of approval and the saleslady thanked the both of you. She tried to hand you the velvet box within a beautiful paper bag but Taehyung accepted it instead.

"You're getting this when you pay for dinner tonight, kitten," said Taehyung to you and only you, his dark voice sending shivers down your spine as he towered over you. He handed you back his credit card and left a small kiss on your jaw right above your neck, his lips hiding a shadow of a smirk.

Jungkook

"Please don't make me do this," you begged when Jungkook took you to Calvin Klein and made you try on a series of luxurious fragrances. The prices of the items they sold made your cheeks flush red with discomfort. Ever since Jungkook found out that you weren't financially stable, he insisted you spend money on his elite black card. If you failed to meet his expectations, he made you go shopping and this was just one of those instances.

Jungkook's nose brushed against your neck where one of the wonderful perfumes mingled with your skin.

"You smell so good, kitten," murmured Jungkook, his dark voice giving you goosebumps. He pulled away, his face only inched from yours as he watched you with amusement. Your boyfriend leaned in slowly, a few locks of his dark hair brushing against your forehead. You put your arms around his neck and guided him to you but he pulled away at the last moment, leaving you wide-eyed and perplexed.

"Only after you use the card, kitten," said Jungkook and placed the black credit card into your hand.

"But ..." Your gaze flicked between your boyfriend and your palm. "Jungkook," you whined in protest.

"You should have done this on your own, Y/N," said Jungkook smoothly as he stepped closer to you and you backed away until your back hit the perfume counter. His long arms leaned against the wooden surface and trapped you there. A sharp breath caught in the back of your throat as you stared at you boyfriend but your gaze kept drifting to his lips.

"We could have been somewhere else right now," spoke Jungkook quietly as his eyes gained a dark, glossy look that made your knees go weak.

"O-Okay," you found yourself stuttering.

After you paid for the perfumes you liked, you were eager to leave the luxurious shopping center.

"Not so fast, kitten," said Jungkook as he caught your hand and pulled you inside the Bvlgari boutique.

"Jungkook—" you spoke breathlessly but the salesman already nodded to Jungkook and went to retrieve something from the back.

"Jungkook, please, let's just go," you tried to reason with your boyfriend, but this time, instead of tempting you with his kisses, Jungkook frowned at you. His eyebrows arched sharply as he caressed your cheek.

"Stop fighting me, kitten," he spoke quietly but his chest was vibrating with the deepness of his husky voice. "We made a deal."

Jungkook had made you promise that you would use the card and not just for the things you needed like meals and everyday items.

"Here it is, Mr Jeon," smiled the elegant salesman. He presented a beautiful velvet box on the counter and opened it carefully. A Serpenti Viper Necklace was sitting on the cushion made in its shape. The metal used was white 18 carat gold with so many diamonds it would take you a month to count them.

Your lips parted in awe as you looked up at Jungkook. His frown vanished behind a small smile when his eyes found yours, a playful look in his dark irises.

"Would you like to try it on, Miss?" asked the courteous salesman. You checked with Jungkook and he nodded to the employee. He didn't let the salesman put it on you, though, that was his job. You turned to the mirror whilst the salesman went to assist the person in the back and Jungkook's arms wrapped around your waist. His gaze traced the viper's tail that led down the middle of your chest.

"Do you like it?" asked Jungkook, his hot breath teasing your ear as his eyes found yours in the mirror.

"It's exquisite," you breathed, feeling the weight of the diamonds and gold against your skin. Your hand took one of Jungkook's and intertwined your fingers with his,

"Just like you, kitten," he spoke softly and left a tender kiss on your neck.