#notes from a bookshop

[aziraphalecrowley-fell]

Crowley spent all of yesterday trying to make me trick or treat. I quickly determined that selecting the treat option was far more satisfying, though I did on occasion choose trick because it made him so happy.

[anthonyjcrowleyfell]

Today Aziraphale discovered a gay bar. I’ve not seen him so happy around “bebop”. Ever. He even sang along with songs he’s probably never heard before. I’m assuming miracles were involved.

I believe this is going to be how I spend my Wednesday nights for eternity.

As long as he’s happy.

[hauntswitch]

This Is How You Lose The Time War will always be so special and important to me as a book, I come back to it so often and always try to bring my highlighted, annotated, dog-eared copy with me whenever I go places. It really is beautiful, and is objectively one of my absolute favourites. Alas. It makes me feel sick in the head

[avonne-writes]

nerdy buck who loves libraries and math is so special to me

Libraries are so peaceful and quiet, and there are thousands of worlds at your fingertips, adventure and beauty and love... All of Gale's wishes in one place. 🩷

[philzokman]

ao3’s down so i have to resort to medieval forms of gay smut (dostoevsky)

[heftmanrhamm]

Heeeeyyyyyyyyy @brezideje :) !!!! Thank you for tagging me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! :D <3 <3 💖<3

hardcover or paperback // bookstore or library // bookmark or receipt // stand alone or series // nonfiction or fiction // thriller or fantasy // under 300 pages or over 300 pages or the exact number of pages needed and no more or less // children's or ya // friends to lovers or enemies to lovers // read in bed or read on the couch or anywhere // read at night or in the morning or anytime // keep pristine or markup // cracked spine or dog ear

Tagging: (this is like, if you're wanting to do it. No pressure. Apologies if you've already been tagged or something :) ) @miniaturestarlightdelight @five-potatoes-high @iiep-wop @streetjack

[azfell-and-co-bookshop]

We will be closed from All Hallow’s Eve through sometime in mid-November. If you have any urgent bibliophilic needs before we reopen, we strongly recommend utilizing Google.

[oldtvandcomics]

Happy Queer Media Monday!

Today: The Lights of Prague by Nicole Jarvis

Another highly personal one.

(My copy of The Lights of Prague, flanked by two of my bat plushies. Picture taken in Old Town Square, after dark.)

Prague, not long after the introduction of gaslights on the street. The guild of lamplighters doubles as elite monsterfighter squad, whose job is to keep the normal population safe from the numerous beings active at nighttime. Meanwhile, said monsters have their own hidden society. Both worlds get thrown in disarray by a series of experiments, that, if successful, would let the pijavice, vampire-like creatures, go out during the sunlight hours. Lamplighter Domek and pijavice Ora get sucked in the middle of the conflict, struggling to keep up with the conspiracies as well as their feelings for one another.

The reasons why this book is so special to me are personal more than anything else, but I still feel that it would serve as a good example for changes in the fantasy genre.

This was the first thing I bought when I arrived to Prague for my one year in film school. Then it took me almost two years to read it, because I was reading everything but this book. The thing is, this is the EXACT kind of story I would have LOVED as a teenager, but apparently, I grew out of it and kind of lost interest. The book itself is good, and I really regret not getting to it ten - fifteen years sooner. It is also, all in all, not really that special or different from the ones that I did read back then.

What did stand out for me was the casual queerness. I bought it because of the Prague connection, and was fully expecting it to be completely straight, like the books I used to read as a teenager. It wasn’t. Ora is bisexual, having had two major relationships with women, as well as multiple with men, and Domek’s friend Cord (as well as his mystery boyfriend) is gay. It is all treated very casually, but it is very visibly there.

As I said before, I know this exact kind of book. I used to devour them around 2009 - 2012 (ish). Back then, this kind of casual queerness just didn’t happen. It did not.

Following the progress of queer representation is often frustrating because of how slow it is. It feels like it should be so normalized by now, and yet we are still stagnating and waiting for crumbs to drop. However, the progress becomes very visible the moment you look at the bigger picture in history, and compare media we have today with the way things were even ten years ago. Once upon a time something comes along that hits you over the head with this progress, and I feel like it’s a good thing to stop for a second and appreciate it.

So yeah, that is what The Lights of Prague symbolises to me.

Here is Nicole Jarvis’ personal webpage. About the pijavice, I only found this entry on the Monster Wiki.

Queer Media Monday is an action I started to talk about some important and/or interesting parts of our queer heritage, that people, especially young people who are only just beginning to discover the wealth of stories out there, should be aware of. Please feel free to join in on the fun and make your own posts about things you personally find important!

[widevibratobitch]

.

[born-to-lose]

I wanna do babysitting so bad because kiddies 🥺🥺🥺

[ineffableaddiction]

I interpret the coffee shop scene in S2 Ep 1 a bit differently than what I’ve read.

I don’t see jealousy at all.

This seems like a surprised reaction from Crowley. (Astonishment maybe?) Aziraphale got called out by Nina, and is clearly uncomfortable. Crowley could tell.

So later in their conversation, he teases Aziraphale, questioning why they aren’t in the bookshop.

But Crowley only wants to help Aziraphale. He knows the “something’s wrong” voice, is concerned and wants to find out what has upset Aziraphale.

When they go back to the bookshop, they’re in “us” mode, and Crowley casually holds the plate of eccles cakes while Aziraphale unlocks the shop. No signs of jealousy.

Once they enter the shop, Crowley tells Aziraphale that something a bit weird is going on with his old lot. No mention of a naked man. Our favorite demon is confused when Aziraphale says he might have an idea of what’s going in and calls for Jim.

Side note: How adorable is this? ❤️

I don’t think jealousy is even on the agenda. Aziraphale and Crowley know each other. They trust each other. It doesn’t even seem like it would cross either of their minds that anyone could interfere with the bond they have. Everyone else is in the periphery. It’s always just them. The group of the two of them.

[aziraphalecrowley-fell]

When Crowley woke from his nap (it really wasn’t my fault), we went to the park to feed the ducks.

It seems that some of the regulars have decided to opt for frozen peas instead of bread, and I definitely didn’t see Crowley smiling when he noticed.

[anthonyjcrowleyfell]

There are probably worse fates than being in love with your best friend for thousands of years.

And definitely worth it.

[sectumsempraaa]

Send Him My Regards

Pairing: fem!reader x idk they’re all in love with you LOL, but Draco's down bad

Summary: You aren’t one to provoke the aggressive nature of your closest friend group (a bunch of reckless Slytherin boys) but when the new hire at your favorite bookstore makes you uncomfortable, you’re forced to ask for their… “help.”

Word Count: 2.5k

Featuring: The whole damn crew. Draco, Theo, Mattheo, Pansy, Blaise, Lorenzo

TW: Implied non-consensual touching/comments, implied violence, panic/mental distress, cursing, disgustingly fluffy

Notes: This is based on something I recently experienced, as many of you have, too. I tried my best to convey my very real thoughts on this matter. Avoiding threatening men is a constant, everyday struggle. If you can relate, this is for you.

“Love, you already own every book in the world.” Draco proclaims, staggering behind you with his pack of Slytherin watch dogs.

Whenever you go anywhere as a group, they always let you lead so they can keep an eye on your surroundings. You think it’s silly, but it’s their thing, and you secretly appreciate the protection, so you let them be. It makes them feel important, and you find it endearing.

“I most certainly do not! Only like… two hundred.” You respond, muttering the number under your breath.

“Then I’ll buy you every book in the world. Must we come here every weekend?” he groans. Of course, Mattheo interrupts, shooting Draco a furrowed brow.

“Mate, for the love of god, either stop coming on these trips, or use some of that fancy cash you love to go on about to take us elsewhere. Pick one.” Mattheo sneers. Naturally, he’s carrying your bag and coat, making sure you never lift a finger. His response earns a smirk from you.

You’re not really listening though, more so taking in the beauty of Hogsmeade. You love escaping the castle for the little town on perfect, brisk days like this one, hitting everyone’s favorite shops and downing a couple of butterbeers.

The boys continue arguing in the background as you make your way down the cobblestone street, your hair blowing softly in the chill of the November breeze. Blaise and Theo share an eye roll with each other before coming to your side, leaving the two to bicker as they trail behind. Theo steps in, heaving a dramatic sigh and throwing an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to him. His words drip with that rich Italian accent.

“Ignore them, bella. We’ll wait for you outside.” You smile at him and he gives you a wink. A man of few words, but oozing with charm. He will occasionally act as a grounding force when the others get rowdy. You hear Draco drag on about how he “earned” his money or whatever.

“Oh wow, a real rags to riches story!” Mattheo shouts, lunging at Draco. You shake your head laughing with Blaise, sending you a look that reads as “I’ll take care of them.” You enter the bookshop, making the bell ring as the door opens.

The first thing you notice is the shiny new display of fantasy books you’ve been dying to get your hands on. You make your way towards it, not being able to contain the thrill on your face. You’ve been waiting for this series to restock and here they are, all of them, ready to be yours. You touch the smooth covers, tracing your fingers over the author’s name on each one.

The second thing you notice is… him. Your heart drops as your sheer excitement instantly morphs into dread.

Please, not again. 

The new hire at this bookstore has ruined the last couple of trips for you. You were hoping he would stop working weekends but… there he is. And he eyes you right away, like you’re on his radar.

The first time you came in, it was the comments. Calling you pet names, pointing out his favorite features on you, and it was relentless. You somehow got through it and attempted to shake it off, praying he would quit or just get fired before your next trip.

The second time, it was the touching. Brushing against your back when trying to “get through”, his hand grabbing your arm too tightly while he led you down an aisle. You tripped on your way out while trying to make a swift escape, and of course he was there to “catch you”, only giving him an excuse to grip both hands around your waist, hesitant to release you.

Your eyes go between the book display and his movements as he starts creeping his way out from behind the counter. You have to make a split-second decision to either stay and endure, or leave safely and empty handed. It pains you but your nerves heighten as he gets closer. Panic sets in as colors blur and sounds become muffled. Your brain and your body and your heart scream together in unison: “danger.”

You burst through the door back outside with a speed and force that could only be conjured by your anxiety. Facing the door, you stumble backwards and let out a gasp when you land in someone’s familiar arms. You recognize the brown suede material of Theo’s jacket as you attempt to catch your breath. It seems no amount of oxygen could suffice at the moment.

“Bella, bella, what’s wrong?” He asks urgently, hoisting you back up to your feet. The others notice the incident and immediately stride their way over. Draco, always leading the pack, puts his hands on your shoulders and lowers his eyes to your level.

“Hey, look at me,” he coos, forcing you out of your episode. He speaks with a tenderness that is almost heartbreaking. “What happened, love? Are you quite alright?”

There’s too many thoughts and feelings swimming around in your head to give an honest answer. Everything is moving in slow motion and you need time to regroup. Swallowing your fear, you decide to lie, at least for now. The last thing you want to do is impulsively encourage their hostility.

“Yeah, I’m good,” you respond, avoiding his gaze. He looks at you, deciding whether to believe you. “Really, I am.” You add. He glances down to your empty hands.

“You left without a book. You always buy a book.” He says, speaking with suspicion in his voice. The others stay back, knowing when to give Draco his space. They all adore you, but Draco would do things you’d rather not think about in order to keep you happy and safe. And he has. It’s been like this since you can remember. 

“Just didn’t have what I wanted, is all.” You explained. The doubt on his face is evident. He speaks just above a whisper.

“Y/N, you know we would take care of anyone that so much as breathes near you wrong, yeah? It’s important to me that you know this.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Mattheo ditching his cigarette and cracking his knuckles. You give a small nod and a shrug, releasing yourself from his hands and walking back in the direction of the castle. Your head is still reeling, but not enough to block out the boys’ debriefing behind you.

First, Mattheo. “She rarely ever gets like that.”

Then Theo. “Only when she panics.” And Blaise. “Her face was almost as pale as Malfoy’s.”

And Draco, but with a tinge of hurt in his voice. “She barely looked at me.” He glances in your direction, contemplating. “Give her time. We’ll look after her tonight. Someone tell Pansy.”

The rest you don’t hear, feeling embarrassment creeping in. You wish they’d just let it go and forget about it, cowering from the attention it’s bringing to you. Your pace quickens as the heat spreads across your cheeks, eager to be alone in your hideout at the castle.

Too focused on your path, you slam into someone’s chest as they’re coming out of the bakery you’re passing.

“Ugh, Lorenzo, I’m so sorry,” you say frantically, smoothing out his jacket and moving past him, never meeting his gaze. His face contorts with confusion and concern. He watches you take off then turns back to the group.

“Something off with that one...” The boys give him a knowing look.

“No shit, Berkshire.” Mattheo sneers.

—

After what felt like an eternity, you had reached the castle and darted to your hideout: a corner balcony high up in one of the towers facing the pitch. Leaning your elbows on the edge of the balcony, you watch the sun slowly descend into its eventual bed of twilight. Then, the spiraling begins.

Thinking back, you’ve never really dealt with something like this because of who your friends were. No one dared to even step too close to you, aware of what the consequences would be. But you weren’t on school grounds this time. You felt… unprepared. Lost. Violated. Guilty.

Does running away make me weak?

Why can’t I stand up for myself?

How did he gain control so quickly?

Did I ask for it? Did I do something wrong?

This is too much. It feels ridiculous and quite frankly enraging that you considered this being your fault. The stress is exhausting.

You let yourself relax, laying down on a stone bench and staring up at the black night sky. You start to mentally identify the stars in view, something Draco taught you to do when you’d get anxious. It always worked, as evident by the many hours you fell asleep. Upon awakening, you gasp as your watch reads 1AM.

You hear footsteps rustling around nearby, and echoing voices calling your name. Shit. They’re looking for me.

Sneaking around corners, you tiptoe around, trying not to get yourself noticed. Maybe, just maybe you can get back to the dungeons without getting caught. Until you hear the voice of your best friend, who admittedly, you could really use right now.

“Pans?” You whisper, catching a glimpse of her shadow down the corridor. Her head whips around before running to you urgently.

“Where the hell have you been?! The boys are going mad looking for-” She stops abruptly when you force yourself into her arms, hugging her tight and burying your face in her shoulder. Her tone softens to that of an older sister. “Oh, Y/N,” She rubs your back while your eyes well up.

“Fuck, Pans, I don’t know what to do.” You say through subtle sobs, holding back as much as you can for her sake. She looks at you with a questioning look before your words stumble out, caked in distress.

“There’s a boy at the bookstore, MY bookstore, and-and, and he’s there all the time now, following me around, and…”

“Y/N, calm down. You’re okay. It’s just me, sweetie.” She says, running a hand through your hair as her eyes shift to someone behind you; their voice deep, slow, and filled with angst.

“There’s�� a… what?” He asks, the voice you recognize as Draco’s ringing off the walls. Mattheo, Theo, and Blaise walk into frame behind him when they realize he found you. The sight of them strikes you; your fiercely loyal group of friends that would go to the ends of the earth for you. To your surprise, you are relieved to see them.

But their anger is palpable. Draco’s jaws clenched tight. Theo’s heavy eyes claiming the darkness. Blaise’s hands rolled into fists. Lorenzo steps forward, eyes soft, holding out a gentle hand. 

“Let’s get you to the common room, and you can tell us-” he turns to the other boys before emphasizing his next words, “-what you’re comfortable with, if you want to talk at all.”

You nod in agreement, taking his hand while Pansy takes your other one. In your head, you’re thanking whatever higher power put Lorenzo on this planet. The voice of reason amidst all chaos.

—

It’s nearly 2AM now. You’re sat on the common room couch in front of the blazing fireplace under a mess of blankets, warming up after your frigid nap. Theo on your left, Lorenzo on your right holding your tea, Draco and Mattheo sitting on the coffee table facing you, with Blaise and Pansy on the floor. All with mixed looks of curiosity, empathy, and sheer rage.

After thinking it over, you decided to prioritize yourself for once. A lot of people don’t realize how hard a decision that can be. This is a risky favor to ask for. But there’s only a couple truly precious things in the world you can’t live without, and this is one of them. You want your fucking bookstore back.

So, you tell them. Everything.

As you recall the events of the last few weeks, you feel the air become tense. Blaise looks like he’s about to combust. Theo reaches for your hand, letting you fiddle with the bracelet on his wrist. You hear Pansy call this boy every name in the book under her breath, your favorite being “bastardly filth”. Draco and Mattheo listen, periodically looking at each other with knowing stares, having their own wordless conversation. You know those looks. Plotting looks.

When you finish, you’re briefly met with silence, temporarily paralyzing you. Do they believe me?

You break the stillness. “I suppose I’m making a big deal out of something quite trivial.” You say to them, diminishing your story, and for what?

Mattheo stands up, ushering Blaise and Pansy out of the way as he kneels in front of you. He rests a comforting hand on your knee, his eyes glowing with brutal honesty.

“It’s really very simple, little dove. You’re in danger, we take down the threat. I can assure you we all agree that your safety is anything but trivial.” He states. He gives your knee a squeeze. “Gonna be honest though, Y/N. It’s going to be ugly for him when he meets us.”

You look up to Draco, who’s been oddly quiet since you all got back. You hold his gaze as you respond.

“Good. Send him my regards.” You reply, earning a wicked grin from him, his eyes suddenly crinkled and brimming with pride. Everyone shifts a bit in their seats, wrapping up the late night discussion.

Draco strides over to you, taking the teacup from your hands and setting it down on a side table. He looks so handsome like this, facing you on the couch with his hair disheveled and the top of his shirt buttons undone. The glow from the fire accenting his features, so sharp yet yearning for sleep. He takes your face in his warm hands.

“I need you to hear me right now. Listening?” he asks. You give an unconvincing nod as his thumb caresses your cheek. Yes, but damn you make it hard to.

His stare intensifies, pulling you from your trance and forcing you to dial in to his statement.

“Never feel bad for wanting them to pay for the pain and discomfort they inflict on you. Their reasons were senseless, yours are justified.”

For the first time tonight, just for a moment, you feel sure of yourself. You wrap your arms around him, pulling yourself closer, his body becoming your safe haven. His hands nestle you to his chest as you feel him place a kiss on the top of your head.

He loves you and you know it. He’ll wait for this to pass, for things to be right. He’ll wait for you to feel whole and secure again. And he’ll do whatever it takes to help you get you there, even if that means giving you space.

As Pansy sees the two of you off to bed, you repeat his sentiment to her. “My god, that bloody boy is down bad, and I mean bad, for you Y/N.”

Ascending the staircase to your dorm, you faintly hear Draco informing the boys of the plan.

“Tomorrow. Noon.” He demands. The boys nod. He pauses before adding another instruction.

“Oh, and we’re gonna need a bag. We’ve got books to bring home.”

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

[reidmania]

love letters | s.reid

summary; when you miss spencer while he is away on a case, you re-read all the love letters he has written you over the course of your relationship

warnings; established relationships, mentions case but doesnt go into detail, fem reader, reader is not a coffee drinker, fluff fluff fluff

an; fic six!! this is just pure fluff tbh. also can we appreciate the colouring on this fic. ITS SO PERFECT PRETTU PERFECT.

You’re lying on the bed that feels too big without him, your fingers idly tracing the edge of a soft, worn piece of paper. The clock beside you reads 2:12 a.m., and you can’t shake the emptiness settling over you as you stare at the ceiling, too awake to sleep and too tired to do anything else. Spencer’s been away for three days now, and every hour without him feels like it stretches on and on, the silence heavier than you’d ever thought silence could be.

Your eyes drift back to the drawer beside your bed, a drawer he never opens, but where you keep something he would recognize instantly. Tucked away are letters, dozens of them, each one a quiet reminder of him. They’re notes, really—not grand declarations, not epic poems. Just little reminders he’s left you over time, slipped into coat pockets or left folded on your pillow. You hadn’t intended to save them all, but now, having them close is the only thing keeping you grounded while he’s away.

You open the drawer and pull out the little bundle tied with a piece of twine. Your heart swells as you untie it, gently unfolding the first note. It’s one of your favorites, written on a torn scrap of notebook paper, one corner crinkled from a drop of coffee. Spencer had left it on your kitchen counter before heading out to work, months ago.

“If I could leave you notes all over the world, I would. But for now, just look outside—it’s raining, and I know that makes you feel calm. I’ll be home before the storm’s over. – S”

You smile, remembering that day. You’d found the note just before noticing the rain falling in gentle streams outside your window, and you’d waited with a blanket by the window, watching the clouds until he came back, just like he’d promised. He always knew how to turn your little quirks into anchors.

Setting that note aside, you reach for another. This one’s written on the back of a receipt from the bookshop downtown. It’s short and scrawled in his neat handwriting.

“You pick up this book as if it’s a friend you haven’t seen in years. It’s beautiful to watch. Don’t forget to mark your place in the story—I want to hear what you think. – S”

You laugh to yourself, remembering how he’d tucked it into the back of the book after you bought it. He hadn’t let you see it until you found it yourself one night, and the memory of the way he’d watched you read that note makes your heart ache just a little more.

You lie back against the pillows, shifting so you’re curled around his side of the bed. It’s silly, maybe, reading these notes over and over. But as you go through them, each one reminds you how much he loves you, how he notices things about you that you hadn’t even noticed about yourself. His love is a quiet kind, a series of small gestures and words, but somehow, it feels bigger than anything else you’ve known.

Another note catches your eye. This one’s on a tiny sticky note, a bright yellow square you’d found on your mirror one morning.

“You make coffee exactly how I like it, even when you don’t drink it. I don’t think anyone’s ever done that for me before. I’m lucky. – S”

You can still remember the warmth of his hand over yours when he found you reading it, how he hadn’t needed to say anything else.

The letters become a timeline of your relationship, a way to measure time not by dates but by memories, by little notes that remind you of the person you are when you’re with him. Each one has a tiny piece of his heart tucked into it, a small reminder that he’s with you even when he’s halfway across the country.

You read through a few more, feeling your eyes grow heavy but not wanting to close them. There’s something grounding about seeing his words, knowing that he took the time to write these little messages just for you. In a way, it makes the ache of missing him almost bearable, makes you feel connected to him in a way that’s both heartbreaking and comforting.

You’ve just set down the last one, a note he left in the middle of a crossword puzzle—“How do you always know the words I can’t think of? I love you.”—when your phone buzzes on the nightstand.

It’s him.

You answer on the first ring, not even caring if he’ll be able to hear the lingering sleepiness in your voice. “Spencer?” you say, unable to help the warmth in your tone.

“Did I wake you?” His voice is soft, low, and there’s a hint of worry in it.

“Not really. I couldn’t sleep,” you reply. There’s a beat of silence before you add, “I was reading some of your notes.”

The smile in his voice is unmistakable. “You kept those?”

“All of them.” You can practically feel his surprise through the line. “It helps. You know, with you being away.”

He hums softly, a sound you know means he’s thinking. “Do you have a favourite?”

There’s a hundred favourites, but you know the answer without hesitating. “The one on the mirror, about the coffee. I don’t think anyone’s ever noticed something like that before.”

The line goes quiet for a moment, but you know he’s smiling. “I think about those little things a lot,” he admits. “I keep thinking about how much I miss you. I know I’ll be back in a few days, but it doesn’t stop me from wishing it was sooner.”

Your heart tightens, and you can’t help but imagine him sitting in some unfamiliar hotel room, thinking of you just as much as you’re thinking of him. “I miss you, too,” you whisper, barely able to keep your voice steady.

There’s another pause, the comforting kind, where neither of you needs to say anything. It’s enough just to be together, even like this.

“Do you want to hear about the case?” he asks gently, as if he’s afraid you’ll say no. You do, because it’s part of him, and you always want to know. So he tells you, his voice a familiar comfort in the dark, weaving through the details with that measured precision he’s so good at. You listen, nodding at the right places, even though he can’t see you, letting his words settle over you like a lullaby.

When he’s finished, there’s a soft exhale on the other end of the line. “Do you have any notes for me?” he asks, the hint of a tease in his voice.

“I could think of a few,” you say with a smile, glancing down at the scattered pages on your bed. “Maybe a sticky note on your phone: ‘Call your girlfriend as soon as the plane lands.’”

You can hear his smile widen. “I think I can manage that.” His voice softens, the words almost like a whisper. “I’ll keep leaving them, you know. Notes, I mean. Just in case.”

“In case of what?”

“In case you ever need a reminder. That I love you. That I notice the little things. That I’ll be there, even if it takes a while.”

You’re quiet, just for a moment, because the words stick in your throat. He always knows how to get to the heart of things, how to make you feel so understood. “I don’t need a reminder for that,” you say. “But I’ll still read them every time I miss you.”

“Then I guess it’s a good thing I’ve written so many,” he murmurs, the warmth in his voice unmistakable. “Get some sleep, okay? I’ll be home before you know it.”

You nod, letting your eyes close. “I love you, Spencer.”

“I love you, too,” he replies, his voice like a gentle embrace over the line. “Sleep well.”

The call ends, but you hold the phone to your chest, listening to the quiet in your room. For the first time in days, it doesn’t feel lonely. Spencer may be miles away, but his words are here, resting against your heart, waiting for you in every corner of every room.

[alvojake]

Lost In The Fire | P.SH

「pairing」 : sunghoon x fem!reader 「word count」 : 3.4k

「synopsis」 : you were a bored college student who didn't have very many friends, so when you stumble upon an old grimoire in a bookshop, you can't help but let your curiosity peak. you were warned to not cast one of the spells, but as luck would have it, you ended up casting that very spell, and you ended up face-to-face with Sunghoon. the incubus that you had summoned by mistake, but it was too late to go back now.

「genre」 : smut with little to no plot, incubus!sunghoon, human!reader

「warnings」 : MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!, demon summoning, cussing, mentions of hell, petnames (kitten, doll, princess...), unprotected sex, choking, slight breath play, oral (fem. receiving), making out, dom!sunghoon x sub!reader, manhandling, bulge kink, breeding, creampie, rough sex, multiple orgasms, edging, lmk if I missed anything!

「notes」 : this is for a very special birthday girl; everyone say happy birthday chelsea! (@ak4e7a) 🎊 I hope that you have a wonderful day bbg and you enjoy it to the fullest!! I honestly can't remember where this idea sprung up from, but I hope that you like it 🖤

It was well after midnight, and here you were, sitting on your bed with your legs crossed underneath you, a dusty, old grimoire sitting in your lap. You grabbed another chip out of the bag lying next to you as you flipped through the pages, trying to find the one that the girl at the bookstore showed you.

“Here it is.” You mumbled, dusting your hands off on your pajama pants and looking at the page with the yellow sticky note on it. Then you flipped to the next page, seeing a blue sticky note sticking to the page as well. Pursing your lips, you flipped between the pages, trying to remember what she had said.

“Make sure you’re casting the correct spell; otherwise, you’ll be summoning a demon.” That’s what she had told you, but you can’t recall which one it was that she had told you not to cast. Was it the blue one? Or the yellow one?

“I'm pretty sure it was the blue one that she said not to cast.” You hummed but then turned back to the previous page. "Or was it the yellow?” With a click of your tongue, you turned back to the page with the blue sticky note. " No, blue has to be the right one; yellow just screams caution.” Shrugging, you uncrossed your legs and stood, walking over to your desk to lay the book down.

Skimming through the instructions and list of materials needed, you stepped away to gather everything and set up the summoning circle.

Once everything was prepped and set up you grabbed the grimoire once more and read the last of the instructions.

“Lights need to be off, and make sure to light the candles in the right order…” You mumbled the instructions to yourself as you walked over to the light switch, turning the bedroom lights off. Blinking a few times, you let your eyes adjust to the dim lighting of the room before walking back over to the summoning circle.

You sit the heavy book on the bed and grab the lighter that was on your nightstand. After reading the correct order once more, you move to the circle and start to light the candles. The air in the room slowly starts to buzz with static, making the hairs on the back of your neck and arms stand up.

“Okay, last one.” You whispered before lighting the last candle and stepping back to admire your hard work. Letting out a sigh, you grab the grimoire off of your bed and trace the mantra with your finger, repeating it in your head a few times to make sure you’re saying it correctly.

Once you were sure that you had it memorized, you looked away from the book and stared right at the center of the circle. As soon as the words started to leave your lips, the flames on the candles started to burn brighter, and a gust of wind swept through the room.

An uneasy feeling started to settle in the pit of your stomach, but you tried your best to ignore it as you finished saying the mantra. However, when the last word left your lips, the candles went out as a huge gust of wind blew over you, causing you to cover your face with the grimoire. 

When the wind settled down, you brought the book away from your face, eyes focused on the summoning circle. You saw a figure of sorts standing in the center, but the darkness made it hard to see it fully.

A gasp fell from your lips when all of the candles relit themselves and the figure in the middle of the room became more clear. However, as soon as your eyes focused on the new light, you knew something wasn’t right.

Your eyes caught sight of the pair of deep red horns sitting upon his blonde hair. Trailing down, you took in what he was wearing: a black skin-tight sleeveless bodysuit showing off his arms. The muscle flexed slightly as he moved to look at you, his eyebrow quirking up at the sight of you just standing there. His hands were shoved in the pockets of his slacks, the same shade of black as his top, but the tail that was swaying softly behind him caught your attention.

Noticing the confusion in your eyes, Sunghoon smirked, tilting his head, “Not what you were expecting?”

Your whole body jolted at the sound of his voice, eyes shooting up to meet his before quickly looking back down at the grimoire that was still in your hands. Reading through the description of the spell you had just cast caused dread to wash over your body.

You had cast the wrong summoning spell.

“Shit.” You cursed quietly before looking back at the blonde male, “No, I did the wrong one; you need to go back.” Your voice wavered in panic as you realized that you had summoned the demon the girl had warned you about. What’s worse is he wasn’t just your regular ole demon. No. He was an incubus.

A sex demon.

Sunghoon’s lip twitched in amusement as he watched you fumble with the grimoire in your hands. Stepping out of the circle, he started to slowly stalk towards you, “You want me to go back?” His voice sent a shiver down your spine, your heart racing under your ribs as he got closer, and you nodded your head. You started to step back when he got within arm's reach, but with every step back, he took another forward. “Hate to break it to you, doll, but that’s not how it works.”

Your breath hitched in your throat, hands clutching the grimoire to your chest as he leaned down until he was at eye level with you.

Sunghoon smirked, the point of his canine peeking out from behind his lips, soaking in the terror swirling in your eyes. He then reached forward, plucking the book from your hands with ease and tossing it off to the side.

“You have two options here,” His voice was smooth as he brought his hand up to your face, the tip of his fingers tracing your jaw as you stared at him with wide eyes. “You can either finish the ritual you so carelessly started or…” He trailed on as he moved his fingers down to your neck before encasing your throat in his palm, resulting in a choked gasp to leave your lips, and your hands instantly go up to wrap around his wrist. “I take you back to hell with me. The demons down there love fresh meat.” A sinister chuckle falls from his lips as he takes in your petrified expression, “Which is it gonna be, kitten?”

Your mind was reeling, fear and panic flooding your veins, but there was something else. The feeling of his hand around your neck and warm breath fanning your face left a burning in your tummy, a feeling you knew all too well and cursed yourself for feeling like that right now. Your thighs start to subconsciously rub together, trying to relieve some of the pressure, but it was no use the longer Sunghoon had a hold of you.

Sunghoon already knew he had you in the palm of his hand the moment he saw you rubbing your tights together. His hand tightens around your throat as he moves closer to your body, a small squeak leaving your lips as a result.

“Though I think we both know what you want.” Your breath hitched in your throat when his lips brushed the shell of your ear. Heat traveled all throughout your body, coating your skin in a shade of red, causing the male to smirk.

Your eyes fluttered closed as you felt his lips on your jaw, his free hand bruising over the exposed skin of your tummy, sending your stomach flipping. The grip you had on his wrist tightened as you tried not to let your mind fall into the pit of lust it so desperately wanted to. 

However, all of your resolve crumbled when his tail coiled around your thigh, pulling it away from the other. A choked gasp fell from your parted lips when his knee made contact with your throbbing core.

Sunghoon pulled away to take in your hooded eyes, lust pooling in your blown-out pupils, and he couldn’t help but snicker about how easy it was to get you to submit. He then let his hand slip past the waistband of your pajama pants, cupping your dripping cunt in his hand, relishing in the moan that slips from your parted lips.

“You mortals are so easy,” He smirked, bringing his face closer to yours once more, your eyes flickering up to meet his, “I just have to push the right buttons–” he pressed against your clothed clit, causing you to gasp, “and you turn into putty.”

A whine falls from your lips as he pulls away from you, but you are quickly silenced when he grabs your body, tossing you onto the soft material of your mattress. It only took seconds before Sunghoon had his body slotted between your parted legs, pressing his growing bulge against your core.

Sunghoon grabbed your wandering hands, pinning them above your head and moving down until he was a breath away from your face. 

“Sunghoon.” You looked at him, confused by the sudden name. " It's my name. Say it,” he demanded, pressing his body further against yours.

“Sunghoon.” You mewled as he rolled his hips against yours, and as soon as his name left your tongue, his lips were on yours, stealing all of the breath from your lungs.

His hand released yours, allowing you to wrap your hand around the back of his neck, pulling him closer to you. His hands, however, traveled the length of your body, pulling and tugging at the fabric of your clothes. Growing impatient, he pulled away from your lips, tearing your shirt off of your body and unclasping your bra before throwing both to the ground. 

Latching his lips to the exposed skin of your collarbone, you gasped, hands flying to his head, racking your fingers through his locks but stopping short when you felt his horn between your fingers. You traced along the edges of it listening to the groan that was pulled from his lungs, the sound sending goosebumps all over your skin.

Just then, his hand slipped under the waistband of your bottoms and underwear, pulling them off of your body in one swift motion. Your grip on his horn suddenly grew tighter when his fingers parted your folds, collecting some of your slick before pressing harshly on your clit.

“Fuck!” You cried out, head falling back at the new sensation and your back arching off of the bed. Sunghoon chuckled against your skin as he took in all of the sounds that were leaving your lips every time he rubbed your clit before moving down to tease your slit.

Your hand slipped from his head as he kissed down the valley of your breast, lingering for a moment to feel your heartbeat against his skin. However, the scent of your wetness was driving him crazy, and he wanted a taste.

“You smell so sweet.” The growl he let out was almost animalistic as he came face to face with your weeping pussy, watching your hole clench around nothing. You whined as his warm breath washed over your skin, making you acutely aware of how close he was. “I need a taste before I pump you full of my cum.” 

His words had your eyes rolling back, a small plea falling from your lips, causing him to chuckle. Not another word left his lips as he grabbed your thighs, keeping them parted as he buried his face in your cunt.

“Sunghoon!” You screamed his name, hands flying to his head once more, but instead of grabbing his hair, you wrapped your fingers around his horn. A groan reverberated from his chest, sending vibrations straight to your cunt, causing another loud moan to leave your lips.

“You’re so noisy, kitten. Aren’t you worried that the neighbors will hear you?” Sunghoon teased you, the vibrations of his voice making your back arch off the bed, pushing your pussy further into his face. Chuckling darkly, he moves his hand to your lower tummy, pushing down hard enough to keep you in place, “such a needy little thing, aren’t you?” 

“Pleas–” Your words caught in your throat when he latched his lips to your clit once more, sucking harshly before moving down to prod at your slit with the tip of his tongue. The sensation was driving you mad. The pleasure that was flooding your body was almost too much.

Sunghoon continued this pattern until your legs were trembling around his head, and you were crying out that you were going to cum. However, right before you came, he pulled away from your soaping cunt, causing a whine to leave your lips, eyes begging him to continue.

Smiling coyly, he moved back up your body until he was face to face with you once more, “Don’t worry, kitten, you’ll get to cum, just on my cock.”

You gasped when his lips smashed into yours, the taste of yourself making your head spin. Sunghoon’s hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer, and your head fell back when you felt the head of his dick poking at your entrance.

“Sunghoon!” You choked out as he trailed the tip of his dick from your entrance to your clit before just barely slipping it into your walls. He watched with an amused smirk as you squirmed underneath him, begging for him to just fuck you.

“You want my cock kitten?” Sunghoon cooed as he slipped just the tip in once more, but this time, he didn’t move anymore. He hummed, reaching up to trace your jaw with his fingers once more, catching your attention. “You want me to fuck you full of my cum. Is that what you want, princess?”

Your head bobbed up and down like a broken bobblehead, lust-glazed eyes pleading with him, but it wasn’t enough for him. No, Sunghoon wanted to hear those words leave your pretty lips. A whimper left your lips as his hand wrapped around your throat, and the tears that had built up in the corner of your eyes started to fall.

“Say it.” He demanded, grip tightening around your pretty neck until your breathing was almost cut off entirely.

“Please, Sunghoon, fuck me and fill my pussy your cum.” You croaked, hands wrapping around his wrist, more pleas leaving your lips, but you were quickly cut off, and your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head when he buried himself to the hilt in one thrust.

Sunghoon groaned at how tightly your walls were squeezing him. The warmth of your walls drove him up a wall, and he started moving, barely giving you a chance to adjust. Choked moans and cries fell from your lips as his hips pistoned into yours, his fingers still firmly clasped around your throat.

“Fuck you’re so tight.” He groaned as your gummy walls clenched around him. 

His hips snapped into yours at a harsh pace, making your brain turn to mush. Looking down, he took in the sight of your already fucked out expression, a cocky smile tugging on the corner of his lips.

“Don’t tell me I’ve already fucked you stupid; we just started, kitten.” He delivered a peculiarly hard thrust to your soaked cunt, eliciting a choked scream from your lungs, “Has no one ever fucked this pussy like this, hmm?” He asks but chuckles when all that leaves your lips are incoherent words.

Removing his hand from your throat, he moved down to grab both of your hips, granting him more leverage to fuck into you. A flurry of cries and moans leave your parted lips when he throws one of your legs over his shoulder, wanting to fuck you deeper.

“Shit, this pussy is mine from now on, got it?” He growled, fucking into you with an animalistic pace leaving you lying there breathless, stars dancing across your vision. When he didn’t get a response, he moved one hand down to pinch your clit, pulling a sharp cry from your lungs. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes! Yours! All yours, Sunghoon! Oh my god!” You screamed out, eyes rolling and fingers digging into the comforter underneath you.

Smiling sinisterly, Sunghoon moved his hand away from your clit to push down on your stomach, right where he could feel himself fucking into you. This action had you whining, back arching against his hand.

“Fuck! Sunghoon, I’m gonna cum!” You cried, one of your hands going down to grab his wrist, and your body started to tremble in his hold.

“Gonna cum already doll?” He teased, rolling his dick deeper into your walls, his tip kissing your cervix with each thrust. “Go ahead. Make a mess all over my cock kitten.”

With a few more thrusts, your orgasm hits you like a ton of bricks, nearly knocking all of the air from your lungs. Sunghoon groaned as your velvet walls squeezed around him like a vice, but his pace never faltered as he fucked you through your orgasm.

“Sung– fuck!” You mewled as your high started to fade, only to be replaced with a sensitivity that left you whining, nails digging into the skin of his forearm.

“Be a good girl now, you’ll get my cum soon.” He leaned forward, folding your body until he was inches away from your face, “just like you wanted.” 

Then he stood straight and fucked into your gushing hole with renowned vigor, his grip on your hips being the only thing keeping you from melting into the mattress completely.

“Sunghoon!” His name left your tongue like a chant when he brushed over your sweet spot, jolts of pleasure sweeping across your body.

With a dark gaze, Sunghoon positioned his hips to hit your sweet spot with every thrust, causing tears to stream down your face. Your head fell back with a loud whine when he pressed against the bulge on your lower stomach again, relishing the way your body was reacting to his actions.

“‘S too much!” You cried out, the pleasure suddenly overwhelming your senses as another high crept up, but Sunghoon didn’t slow his pace nor move his hand. Instead, he moved his thumb to your clit, causing your body to shake viciously.

“Aw, is it really too much?” He cooed with a smug smirk, “Then why do you keep sucking me in?” 

A sharp cry left your parted lips when he pressed down on your clit once more, sending your body over the edge. White spots clouded your vision as silent screams fell from your lips, and your whole body shook as Sunghoon fucked you through yet another orgasm.

“Fuck I’m cumming.” Sunghoon groaned, his thrust faltering as he spilled his seed deep in your womb. The warmth that spread throughout your body was making you delirious, like he had just given you some kind of drug.

Lust fully took over your brain as he slowed his thrusts, and Sunghoon looked down, taking in the expression on your face, a cocky smirk playing on his lips, already knowing what had happened.

You whined as he pulled his still-hard cock from your weeping walls, begging him to put it back in, causing him to click his tongue. In a split second, he had you flipped over on your stomach, hands tugging on your hips until they were where he wanted them before teasing your entrance with his tip once more, listening to you whine and beg him.

“We’re not done yet, kitten,” He leaned over your body, chest flat against your back as his warm breath fanned your ear, “I still have so much more left to give you.” He pressed a searing kiss to your temple before pulling back and thrusting into you once more.

He fucked you all night long until he spilled every last drop of his cum into your womb, not letting a single drop leave as he plugged your hole with his dick keeping it all deep inside.

“You’re mine.” Those were the last words that you heard leave his lips before your vision faded to black.

@alvojake | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.