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infinity-garage-door · 5 months
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Infinity Garage Door - Austin Garage Door Repair
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Address
203 N Railroad Ave, Pflugerville, TX 78660
Phone
(512) 998-4556
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At Infinity Garage Door your satisfaction is our top priority! We provide top technical service, so that you can avoid problems with your door and keep it running smoothly for years to come. Our experts are committed to providing you with the highest quality service. We specialize in repairing, installing, and maintaining overhead garage doors and commercial garage doors, so that they operate perfectly for years without trouble or any maintenance needs on your part! Door won’t go up? Noisy door? Opener issues? Broken spring? Garage door off-track? We do it all from basic garage door maintenance to new garage door installations! Call us today to schedule your SAME DAY appointment with our local expert technicians here in Austin, TX.
Category: Garage Door Service
Bus. hrs/day: 24 hours a day, 7 days a week
No. of employees: 5-9
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rafecameronssl4t · 3 months
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For high maintenance reader! Can you write a prompt where they’re all talking to rafes friends at the country club or some party and they make some plans with rafe but reader gives him her signature look like raised eyebrow look and rafe just folds and is like ummm yeh I mean I can’t do that night or quietly asks reader if he can go just pussy whipped rafe
Whipped || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
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MASTERLIST
Rafe, always the center of attention, animatedly discussed plans for a guys’ hangout on Friday night out on the porch. “C’mon, Rafe, you have to come! It’ll be fun,” one of his friends insisted, grinning broadly as Rafe leaned against the railing. Inside, on one of the country club’s sofas nearest the door to the porch, you could practically hear every word.
Friday nights were usually spent at either your place or Rafe’s, watching movies or simply enjoying each other’s company—a cherished ritual. Catching Sarah’s eye, you exchanged a knowing glance, a pang of annoyance hitting you at the thought of those plans changing.
Rafe, sensing your gaze, hesitated before speaking up. “Ummm, yeah, I mean… I can’t do that night,” he stammered, his confident demeanor crumbling momentarily. You raised an eyebrow at him, giving him a look he knew all too well.
You watch him intently as he continues talking with his friends, knowing he is fully aware of your gaze. Every now and then, his eyes flicker over to you, a subtle acknowledgment that doesn’t go unnoticed. “Why not, man?” one of them questions in surprise, their voices mingling with the background hum of the country club.
Rafe shifted uncomfortably, meeting your eyes briefly before turning back to his friends. “I, uh, have other plans—with Y/n,” he finally said, a satisfied smile spreading across your face as you returned to your conversation, triumph settling in your chest.
A few minutes later, while carefully applying another coat of lip gloss, you feel the couch dip beside you. The familiar scent of Rafe’s cologne reaches your nose, confirming his presence before you even look. He sidles up close, arm resting behind you as his his voice dropping to a whisper. “Can I go?” he asks, his usual bravado completely absent, his thumb rubbing absent minded circles in your shoulder.
You take a moment to look at him, your eyes scanning his face. His expression is earnest, almost pleading. With a soft sigh, you lightly roll your eyes and return to your lip gloss. “Fine. But don’t make a habit of it,” you mumble, crossing your legs at the knees in a gesture of mild annoyance.
Rafe’s face lights up with relief, a grateful smile spreading across his lips. “Thanks,” he mutters, glancing back out to the porch where his friends are waiting. He stands up, ready to leave, but then hesitates. Leaning down, he aims to kiss your lips, but you stop him with a tap of your heeled foot against his inner leg.
“Baby, I just put on a new coat,” you sigh, leaning away and turning your head slightly, still a bit annoyed. Rafe lets out a sigh of his own, his eyes filled with a mix of apology and affection. “My bad,” he says quickly. He then gently kisses your cheek, his lips lingering for a moment longer than necessary, before straightening up and heading out to join his friends. As you watch him go, a small smile tugs at the corners of your mouth, your annoyance melting away.
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13atoms · 6 months
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Handsome and a Genius (Spencer Reid x F!Bau!Reader)
Inspired by that one scene in x files where mulder stands like a himbo looking handsome and being the future of beauty. you know the one I mean
Summary: Spencer’s overactive brain draws more attention than it ought to on a case, and you see him in a new light. 3k words.
Contains: hostile witnesses, spencer being clueless (but an absolute babe), friends to lovers. (No offence to Florida im sure it’s very nice, reader is having a bad day, and I am far too British for that kind of heat)
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The sticky Florida air had long since plastered your clothes to your skin, leaving you short of breath and with the unpleasant feeling of damp hair against your scalp. The whole team had groaned at the revelation their next case would be in the outskirts of Miami, and as soon as the plane door opened you understood why.
You were hot, and grumpy. The salty, swampy air made you feel disgusting as you approached witness after witness. There was a serial killer operating in and around mobile home parks in the area, with the two most recent murders taking place in Royal Biscayne Trailer Park, both over a week ago. While the rest the team spread out across the other crime scenes, you and your partner had been dispatched to this one.
It was a world away from Quantico: sun-bleached, dense, full of plastic and palms instead of concrete and maples. Nonetheless, the principles remained the same no matter where you were. Take everything in, speak to everyone, suspect everyone. Stepping in and out of trailers gave you very little relief from the heat, although respite from the sun pounding down on you was a welcome break.
Dr Spencer Reid stood a short distance away, shielding his eyes with his hand as he contemplated the sea of trailers around him. He’d stared around as you drove into the park, something faraway in his eyes as he memorised every detail from the safety of the SUV.
Now he stood close to you, heads inches apart as he whispered so that only you could hear. He faced one way, you the other, and you could focus on his words knowing that Spencer was watching your back.
“These things all come equipped with the same locks, at least each model does. If you recognise the trailer home, you know how to pick it. It’s fairly trivial, for someone with some basic industry knowledge.”
You hummed through pursed lips, surveying the small crowd who had gathered to gawk at a pair of FBI officers on their turf.
“And that would be true of all of the trailer parks… we know he’s got a common MO.”
“Exactly.”
“You reckon someone in the industry, then? A salesman? Maintenance guy?”
Spencer rolled his neck, stared up at the sky for a moment. His curls were long at the moment, damp at the name of his neck, a little frizzy in the humidity.
“Not necessarily.”
“It’s quite specific,” you agreed, “anyone operating as a common thief around here would have the knowledge too. We could be talking about a classic escalation – burglar to home invader to murderer?”
His eyes snapped from you to his phone.
“I’ve asked Garcia to check out any patterns in robberies, home invasions… the locks are hardly scratched. We know he wears gloves, cleans his tools. This guy knows what he’s doing.”
You nodded, surveying the street again. The sun was glinting off of white plastic, making you squint. You worried for Spencer, the heat and the light wouldn’t be doing his headaches any good.
“You want me to take that?” Spencer was saying, and you snapped your attention in the direction he was gestured.
There was middle-aged man a little way forward of the crowd, shoulders hunched, hands entwined. Nervous. He had the tan of someone who lived here year-round, not a big believer in suncream, with tanlines when he removed his hat and glasses to speak to you.
“I’ve got it,” you murmured, and Spencer nodded.
It was an unspoken part of your partnership, that Spencer liked when you started conversations with witnesses. You liked that he trusted you, trusted your skills, never questioned whether you’d done the right thing when you spoke to people.
Instead he remained a short distance away, climbing up the front steps of someone’s home for a higher vantage point to survey the place.
“Hello, sir. Can I help you?”
“Yes, ma’am. Thank you. You said you’re with the FBI?”
The man had a tip, and it was an interesting one. A rumour spread throughout the HOA about someone trying the locks at night, the sound of metal against the doorways, silhouettes against frosted glass. A few people even had security camera footage, though nothing identifiable. It was great. You gave him your card, told him to get the footage to you asap.
It must be terrifying, you realised, to hear that kind of noise in the night. To be so close to danger, after a neighbour had been killed. The local sheriff’s department seemed frustrated by the interest the case was garnering – frankly you were amazed the story wasn’t bigger. There was no small amount of comforting involved in the conversation you had with the witness, and soon enough a few more people stepped forwards from the crowd. All seemed middle-aged, likely transplants to the sunshine state, and equally shaken.
When everyone’s stories had finished, they stood in silence for a moment. You frowned, noticing their gazes slightly misaligned.
Spencer.
He was stood at your shoulder, sharp gaze flickering across each face of the gathered residents.
“This is my colleague, Dr Reid. A few of you have already met, I believe.”
“You know,” he began, “the socio-economic factors influencing the way we think about crime in mobile home communities are fascinating. Often trailer parks are stereotyped negatively in the media, and because they are generally cheaper to live in than traditional housing estates, and that can foster a sense of shame or isolation for residents. Transient populations can also make community policing and security difficult, and anomalies in the patterns of everyday life become more difficult for people to subconsciously spot.”
You held your breath, and tried not to look worried at the reaction of the small crowd. Instead, you focused on Spencer. He was speaking with his hands a lot today.
“But I think the assumptions we tend to make about trailer parks completely overlook the very nature of living so close to your neighbours. There is a sense of community in living so closely, as evidenced by the conversations we’ve been having today. I’m not sure whether the killer understands that, or is exploiting the former theory that places like this allow for more deviations from the way we implement traditional security in communities. An unsub might hold some sort of resentment towards trailer parks, or some specific resident in his past, or perhaps he’s simply exploiting how incredibly easy it is to simply walk up to a mobile home and slip the lock open with a humble mass-produced lock pick.”
He was greeted with a sea of blank faces, littered with the occasional frown. Finally he looked to you. You caught the furrow of his brow, the way his shoulders hunched into himself, the clutching of his elbows to his body.
Oh, Spencer.
“That’s really interesting!” you tried to say, but Spencer was already backing away.
“Anyway, I’ll, um, leave you to it.”
“Thank you, Dr Reid,” you called after him, as he fled, disappearing into the shade of a nearby trailer.
 Your heart ached for him a bit, but you pushed that aside. Instead, you had a sea of potentially offended retirees to keep on side.
“God, what I’d give for a brain like that,” your witness laughed, his linen shirt straining under the movement.
You couldn’t help smiling, a little relieved the tension had broken.
“It’s not often someone has a face like that and a good head on their shoulders,” one of the older ladies piped up.
You found yourself looking over your shoulder at Spencer, his profile sharp as he looked down the road, deep in thought.
“He’s certainly a rare breed,” you agreed fondly.
A number of the crowd were following your gaze, and someone in you wanted to snap them out of it. Stop them from staring.
“He actually has an eidetic memory. Once he’s seen or heard something, he remembers it perfectly, forever. It’s incredible.”
“Oh, my goodness! I can hardly remember my own email password!”
“I wouldn’t mind if he hung around me and talked like that all day, even if I didn’t understand a word of it. Though perhaps he could use a haircut…”
There was a chorus of agreement and various coo-ing which seemed to occupy the entire scale from grandmotherly to entirely inappropriate. You couldn’t help staring at Spencer a moment longer, wondering if he was truly oblivious, or simply pretending to be.
A rare breed.
You were certain you’d never met anyone else like him. Certain you felt like a better version of yourself in his company. That you’d trust him with your life, that you searched every room you entered until you saw him. Watched the elevator doors each time they opened, all morning, until Spencer walked in.
You were certain you’d felt giddy the first time Spencer insisted the two of you would work together, alone.
 “Imagine knowing that he’d remember everything, forever…” one of the women was saying, her eyebrows raised in a way you didn’t particularly enjoy.
You cleared your throat, and hooked one hand over the badge at your waist.
“Unless anyone has any further leads, we’d better be on our way…”
The group silenced, and watched you dutifully. You passed out a few more cards, reiterated how dedicated the team was to stopping this killer, and gave out a few promises that there would be a police presence after dark throughout the trailer park.
When the request for any further questions was met with more glances towards Spencer, you thanked your witness, and made a beeline for the car. After only a few seconds Spencer was beside you, jogging to catch up.
“All done?” he asked, and you smiled at the question.
“I think so.”
You started the engine and both waited with the doors open for the car to cool down. The department’s penchant for black SUVs was not helpful when the sun was so vicious. Feeling the heat themselves, the group of residents had dispersed into a few groups, wandering into one another’s homes to continue gossiping.
“God, I’m disgusting,” you lamented, “sorry for the sweat-smell. I might actually take a cold shower when we get to the hotel.”
Spencer was already waving you off, leaning into the car to mess with the AC. Through the open door you saw him groan at the heat, swiping a curl from his face.
“I’m afraid to raise my arms. It’s so humid, I’m not sure why anyone would retire here. High humidity aggravates a number of chronic conditions, especially respiratory ones, which are common in older people. Not to mention the skin cancer…”
“And it ruins your hair,” you teased.
Spencer faked a gasp, and reached for a damp, limp section of his hair.
“I mean, look at it!”
You laughed, and rolled your eyes at him, nothing but fondness settling warm and tight in your chest.
Surveying the road in front of you for one final time you saw a few curtain-twitchers, but no new faces. You climbed into the car, wincing at the heat. The seatbelt buckle was burning hot, and you swore as it burned your fingers.
“I always forget about that,” you grumbled, slamming the car door closed.
“You know, if you fasten your seatbelt after you get out, it stops the metal getting hot and burning you,” Reid offered, and you rolled your eyes at him again.
“Gosh, doesn’t it get exhausting being right about everything?”
Spencer went quiet, and all you heard was the click of his own belt. After a few moments the car was cool and bearable, and your lungs felt like they could finally move again. The sat-nav happily talked away, and you started stealing worried looks at your partner once you’d returned to properly-maintained roads.
“What you said out there was really good, do you mind if we go over it again once we get to the station? I think it’s worth exploring.”
“I shouldn’t have said it in front of them.”
He was right, but you didn’t have to heart to say anything. That was the thing which made your heart twinge about Spencer – he was so insecure, and yet so self-aware, it was the worst of both worlds. Being an expert in body language was a double-edged sword.
“I don’t think they minded. Did you hear those old ladies talking about your big brain?”
Spencer didn’t laugh. He turned himself towards the window, curled up with his hand beneath his jaw.
“They were very impressed. So was I, for what it’s worth. I think we’ll make some really good progress on this profile tonight.”
He hummed agreement. Watched a vista of blurred blue and green and white going past the window. The radio was turned down to a low hum, you could hardly hear it. Silence pierced its way through and sound of mumbled songs and road noise.
“Are you okay?” you asked finally.
“I’m okay.”
You sighed. Tapped the steering wheel. Sped a little to get through an intersection on amber.
 “Spencer…”
“I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to ruin that for you I just… sometimes I think of things and it’s like I have to tell you.
“Spencer I’m not mad at you! Not at all! I think we’re both just tired, and too warm…”
He didn’t say anything.
“Honestly, I was worried you’d heard what those ladies were saying about you and gotten upset. It was inappropriate of them…”
“I didn’t hear anything. What did they say?”
Your gaze was focused on the road, but you met Spencer’s eye in the rear-view mirror as he watched your face.
“Just that you were a handsome young man. And that they wanted you to get a haircut, which I firmly disagree with…” you teased.
Spencer touched his hair self-consciously. He was still quite curled up, leaning away from you despite his interest in the conversation.
“That’s nice of them, I suppose.”
“‘Nice’ is an interesting way of putting it, but I’m glad you’re not upset about it.”
“When I was a kid, I read a book at the library about how to tell if you’re attractive. It was for women, all about makeup and stuff, but there was a section about what made guys hot. I could never figure it out, I just always thought I looked like an alien.”
The sudden change made you sit up straight, heart in your mouth as you rolled to a stop behind a queue of traffic.
“I think everyone feels like that sometimes. Being a teenager is really hard.”
 “I… yeah. I suppose so.”
“I always felt so jealous of the people who walked around looking perfect every day, confident that they were not. It just never came naturally to me.”
“Really? I assumed you were one of those girls in school who I’d be too afraid to talk to.”
You scoffed, and for a moment were struck by how little you really knew about one another. The way Spencer looked at you, looked it everyone, it felt as though he had an x-ray into every tiny detail of your life. How could he know, though?
“Of course not,” you laughed nervously.
You weren’t sure if you’d prefer Spencer knew the truth, or kept believing whatever he’d made up ini his head. You weren’t sure what any of this conversation meant. Traffic was moving. The precinct was two turns away.
“I’m not sure I believe you.”
He was teasing you. Finally he leant back in his seat, shoulders square to it, legs stretched out in the passenger footwell.
“Either way, I’m glad you can talk to me now. I’d miss it if you didn’t.”
“You might be the only person on this planet with that opinion.”
You took a moment to glance across the car at him, and caught a flash of a smile. He was joking. You released tension from your shoulders you hadn’t realised you were holding.
“I’m sure that’s not true. You’re a handsome genius, just like Barbara said.”
“Her name was Barbara?” Reid laughed.
You shrugged, and took the final turn into the precinct parking lot.
“I’ve got no idea.”
Even with the SUV in park, the aircon no longer blasting away, neither of you moved. Not for a moment, at least. A moment of peace before the chaos all began again. Just the two of you. Wherever you were, with Spencer was your favourite place to be.
“You’re the same, you know. A genius. And handsome…”
You frowned.
“Pretty! Beautiful. You know what I mean.”
“Handsome?”
In truth, you didn’t care about the words. Not at all. Not when your heart was pounding at the realisation Spencer had his gaze fixed on your lips, his eyes soft and pupils blown wide.
“Beautiful,” Spencer repeated, “You know, in a lot of languages, handsome can be translated for men and women. The word itself doesn’t have a gender. Guapa, for example, in Spanish…”
You let him talk, on and on. You decided you wouldn’t kiss him yet, while your hair was matted in sweat and Spencer’s face was brushed with sunburn and embarrassment.
“Bella is more popular in South America, though, or bonita. My favourite is Japanese, though. Kirei. To be beautiful both inside and out…”
Only a few more moments passed before Morgan arrived and banged on the glass with a wide grin and a sweat-beaded brow, announcing a break in the case. You were sorry for the interruption.
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Literally all the shit rich people have turned into luxuries are stuff many disabled people need (or would need to manage their pain but can't afford it)
Comfy ergonomic chairs
Indoor pool/hot tub (therapy bath)
Massages on the regular
Aides (rich people call them servants)
Yea even a cook who makes you special meals (perfect for people with special dietary needs and for those with severe allergies, as well as people who are in too much pain or are otherwise unable to cook)
Elevators in your house (even small ones just for groceries, my rich aunt has one in her beach house!)
Rich people don't buy these for fun I hope but custom powerchairs are obscenely expensive. It pisses me off when I see another person invent "the wheelchair of the future!" Which then is literally never fucking used because none of us can afford it (and insurance definitely won't pay)
Indoor gyms or even personal exercise equipment. Hard to go out to a gym somewhere else when you're disabled, especially if you are immunocompromised
Outdoor spaces to relax in. It's literally vital for your mental health to at least see the outdoors. I'd rather be bedridden in a sunroom (with retractable blinds) than a shitty apartment with one tiny window.
There's even freaking health retreats these people go to regularly. There's a fibromyalgia retreat in new york where they basically take care of all your needs while trying different treatments and seeing which ones help. Either it's heaven or making money off of scamming desperate people who are able to scrape the money together to go.
Private planes, which I honestly think shouldn't exist, but one that specifically catered to people with disabilities (spaces for wheelchairs/other mobility devices, accessible handicapped airplane bathroom, anxiety reducing tools, trained medical personnel and care team)
Also customized cars, except instead of making gas guzzling racecars to joyride in while everyone else is trying to get to work, cars with electric ramps, lifts, doors, cars customized for someone with limb differences. Those cars where you can roll your wheelchair right up to the wheel. Fuck even self driving cars once they are no longer deathtraps.
Skincare products that are safe for sensitive skin like eczema but also actually work
Nice-looking clothes customized to fit limb differences, access points, look good in wheelchairs, colostomy bags, etc. while also being comfortable and not fast fashion.
Dental care!!! What the fuck why is this shit so expensive!! I don't want my teeth to fall out!! (Disabled people usually need more dental care bc we have a harder time keeping up maintenance)
Rich people go and splurge on all of these even though they don't need them while calling disabled people selfish for begging their insurance for even one of these.
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oukabarsburgblr · 5 months
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Man in the Elevator [Office AU]
FEATURING : MALE STRANGER (OC) x male reader
As you arrive to work, you find yourself stuck in the elevator with a handsome unknown coworker. Unable to exit, a robotic voice from the intercom announces that to leave the elevator, you'd have to do the despicable. And with a total hot stranger?!
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Dubcon, variation of sex pollen kind of fic, male oc x male reader
aftermath
Find out more under the cut!
What kind of porn scenario is this?!
The (h/c) gritted his teeth, tempted to smash the button of the intercom. "...I think someone is just messing with us." He didn't want to turn around, only glancing at the mirror to his left, the only big reflective piece in the small elevator.
A man, handsome (m/n) noted, stood in a nice, ironed black suit, a navy button up and a matching black tie. His skin was pale, spiky and short dark hair, his build strong and quite beefy. He'd look like someone you'd have a crush on at the gym. The expensive one you'd think twice before purchasing a membership.
Daisuke Yuichi.
(m/n) read his name tag as he sighed and crouched down on the elevator floor, hearing the man behind him trying to reassure him.
It was like any other morning, he'd wake up, get ready for his job at any normal office environment and arrive to work using the public railway. Although the normal elevator he would use in the lobby was unusable, scheduled for maintenance, and he opted to use the lower ground one on the west side of the building so he went downstairs to the garage.
He didn't pay any mind when a guy who looks richer than his office acquiantances waited for the elevator beside him and stepped inside as well. It was sudden when the elevator shook and went rigid, not responding when the (h/c) frantically smashed the button to open the elevator.
"To exit the elevator, please commit sexual intercourse with the person closest to you!"
The (h/c) felt his stomach dropped as the formal prerecorded voice rang inside the lift. A gasp escaped the stranger behind him as well. "Hey what the fuck? This isn't funny!" He kicked the metal doors, agitated but to no avail.
"To exit the elevator, please commit sexual intercourse with the person closest to you!"
"I...This never happened before..." (m/n) turned behind him. The good-looking man had a worried expression. "Can you try calling for maintenance? My phone has no line."
True to his words, the (h/c) could not call anyone for help, limiting his communication to the outside world making him feel more panic inside. "Damn it..."
Currently, every time they pressed any button whatsoever, the same message would repeat, clarifying that someone needs to fuck someone and (m/n) would rather not be involved. Well-
"I'm really sorry if I make you feel uncomfortable...I'll stop talking now." The stranger, Daisuke, really tried his best to reaffirm the (h/c) as he sat in the corner, as far as he could but (m/n) ignored him, too annoyed to even talk. It doesn't help that his face was a real beaut too. One of those gentle giants that girls would rave over.
"..." (m/n) didn't speak, annoyed at the whole situation as he remained his crouched stance, crinkling his suit. "Do you...work here too?"
The (h/c) groaned, Daisuke really was a chatterbox, either that or he speaks to calm his nerves. "If it isn't any obvious, then yes. I do work here." He snapped accidentally.
"Sorry. My name is Daisuke! Daisuke Yuichi." Hearing (m/n) respond made Daisuke's tone much lighter, smiling as he held out a hand. The (h/c) grabbed it and shook it lightly. "I know." "Eh? You know me?" "No. I read your nametag." "Oh..."
The ravenette seemed disappointed, (m/n) almost rolled his eyes. Was he supposed to be some hotshot or something?
"Can I know your name?" "(m/n) (l/n)." "That's a nice name." Daisuke's lips form a gentle smile, reaching his eyes. The (h/c)'s face was blank however.
"...so what's the plan?"
(m/n) squinted his eyes at Daisuke, who still had that polite smile on. If he had to describe this new stranger, a polite, neat, rich guy. Other words, a golden retriever, maybe?
"We wait. This can't go on forever." Daisuke pouted and looked the other way to hide his face. He mumbled an 'okay'. (m/n) was horrified. What the fuck was wrong with this guy? Was he ready to do the deed with anyone at any time?!
The (h/c) scooted further into the corner, burying his face into his knees. Waiting for the elevator to return to normal or when help somehow miraculously arrived.
Half an hour passed when the intercom suddenly announced that 'assistance' would commence.
"To ease the occurence of an intercouse, external assistance would be provided!"
(m/n) was screaming internally and screamed externally when visible coloured gas came pouring in from the vents. It was heavy from Daisuke's side. "Hey hey! It's okay. We'll be fine." The ravenette held (m/n) by his shoulders when the (h/c) was panicking and thrashing about.
"You're fucking with me right now?! This is absurd!" (m/n) wailed into Daisuke's hold as the ravenette immediately took off his blazer. He grabbed a water bottle and soaked part of his blazer and pressed it into the (h/c)'s face.
"Don't breathe it in. This will help." "What about you?!" (m/n)'s voice muffled against the damp clothing. He only noticed the rising red hue on Daisuke's cheeks and the flush on his neck and ears. He smiled apollogetically. "I think it's a bit too late for me."
The (h/c) blinked owlishly as he glanced at the feverish ravenette's crotch, his mouth screeching when he saw the big hard outline on his slacks. Daisuke sweatdropped as he slumped down against the wall of the elevator.
"Don't worry. I pride myself on my self-control. I'll just...ride it out." Daisuke smiled as he turned his face away, his breathing getting heavier and heavier.
(m/n) couldn't help but feel slightly guilty. He pressed the damp blazer further into his nostrils, the small space being filled up with the gas. He could feel himself getting slightly aroused, although notbas affected as Daisuke.
Said person only faced his body away, panting to himself in the corner while clutching his tie, pulling it loose. The ravenette closed his eyes, humming to distract himself from the growing fervour in his pants.
Daisuke felt bad for the other person in the lift, (m/n) that is. Such a handsome guy too. Wish our introduction was a bit different... Daisuke thought to himself, resisting to look at the (h/c).
"Daisuke..." "Yeah?" He croaked out. The aphrosidiac was really getting to him but he couldn't just pounce on the (h/c). What kind of person would he be then.
He flinched when a (s/c) hand grasped onto his shoulder. "Don't-!" "It's fine." (m/n) hummed, Daisuke's blazer was crumpled in a corner. The ravenette's eyes widened seeing (m/n) willingly inhale the stimulating gas.
"Why did you-" Daisuke went to cover (m/n)'s nostrils but the latter swatted his hand away. "It's...not fair for you. Besides, it's the only way we can get out of here right." The (h/c) straddled the ravenette, Daisuke's face becoming entirely flushed seeing (m/n) in his lap.
"We can do it." (m/n) mumbled, furrowing his eyebrows and glancing elsewhere. Daisuke stared at him for a bit before pushing his hips upwards, lightly grinding himself into the (h/c)'s crotch. (m/n) let out a surprise gasp as he clutched the ravenette's shoulders. He panted lightly as he tried to avoid Daisuke's horny gaze.
"....But I don't want to bottom." A vein almost popped on (m/n)'s forehead as he punched Daisuke's bicep. "FUCK OFF!" The ravenette laughed as he wrapped his arms around (m/n). "I'll do my best, (m/n)." He smiled up at the (h/c) who only nodded feverishly, feeling the lust fully taking over.
Daisuke pulled (m/n)'s waist down and began to rub their the (h/c)'s ass on his crotch, elliciting a few gasps from the latter. He could feel his nails digging into his shoulders which only drove his excitement further.
Daisuke unbuckled (m/n)'s belt, earning a whine and pulling his pants down. The (h/c) had never been so grateful that he was wearing nice briefs today. Daisuke palmed his erection, rubbing his thumb over the wet patch on his underwear.
(m/n) instantly pulled off his bottoms and hurriedly pawed at Daisuke's own pants. After their lower halves were bare, the ravenette slid his cock, (m/n) didn't dare to look at how big it was, in between the (h/c)'s ass, slipping and humping their bottoms together.
"Don't just- mmff! Shove it like that! Stroke it first- gah!"
"S-Sorry. Is this- ang ahh! Good for you- mmng!"
Even (m/n) was moving his hips, back and forth to reciprocate Daisuke's movements who was gliding his now wet cock under the (h/c)'s dick, balls and asscrack. (m/n) was confused on how the hell did Daisuke had that many precum as he stroked his own cock, ignoring the staring ravenette.
Everything felt hot and sticky, (m/n) felt every inch of his pores being pressed and melting. His body twitched against Daisuke's, his teeth gritting as he shut his eyes closed, relishing in this sinful hedonism. He flinched when he felt a spurt of wetness hitting his lower back.
"S-Sorry..." Daisuke clenched his teeth, clearly embarrassed of his quick ejaculation. (m/n) ogled the ravenette's face, scanning his reddened cheeks and long eyelashes. The world really did gifted this stranger with a good body and a good face. And the world gave this man to (m/n).
The (h/c) pursed his lips as he mumbled. "You talk too much..." He quickly jacked off his own penis, his hips stuttering when he came, Daisuke holding his waist in place. Cum smeared on Daisuke's clothed torso, littering his navy shit with milky white.
"To exit the elevator, please commit sexual intercourse with the person closest to you!"
"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" (m/n) yelled at at the intercom, opting to throw his shoe at the button panel. He heard Daisuke chuckle as large hands began rubbing his sides up and down. "We don't have as much as a choice do we?"
The (h/c) slowly turned to see the smiling ravenette before scrunching his nose. "You're doing it from the back."
-
Hands gripped the cold metal railing, pants escaped from his mouth as it fogged up the mirror in front of him. (m/n) had long discarded his shoes but kept his long-sleeved top on. Daisuke had already unbuttoned his, well-defined abs, fat chest and his happy trail exposed as he pressed his crotch against (m/n)'s bottom.
Both of them were standing, the (h/c) bent over and holding the handrails of one of the two walls it was built in. Daisuke behind him, his large pale hands caressing (m/n)'s back, the latter slapping his hand away. It doesn't help that they just so happened to be in front of a mirror, fortunately for (m/n) it only showed their upper halves.
The ends of (m/n)'s shirt barely covered his behind, he felt Daisuke lightly touching it, Daisuke was thinking whether to move it but decided otherwise.
"Do you mind?" (m/n) looked up to see Daisuke holding two fingers near his face, his back almost touching Daisuke's bare chest. The (h/c) furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Why won't he do it himself?
"I've never done it with a guy before." "So?" The ravenette didn't answer, only pushing his fingers into the corner of mouth, (m/n) reluctanly opening his mouth, the gas influencing most of his decisions currently.
Daisuke began to rub his fingers all over (m/n)'s teeth, gums and his tongue prompting a gagging noise from the (h/c) as he rolled his eyes back. Instinctively, (m/n) began to suck on the thick, rough fingers, licking the padding before swirling his tongue all over his digits as knuckles knocked on his hard palate.
The ravenette's index and middle finger began to piston in and out of (m/n)'s mouth, dragging his saliva back and forth and encouraging choking noises from the (h/c). The bottom's eyesight was getting blurry and he glanced at the mirror to see Daisuke breathing heavily, his face flushed as he shoved his fingers down (m/n)'s throat.
This fucker is really getting off of this. The same could almost be said for the (h/c) who groaned as Daisuke finally pulled out, his fingers dripping with wetness and (m/n)'s throat felt raspy and sore. He flinched as cold fingers tapped on his entrance.
Daisuke tested the waters by gently prying (m/n)'s asshole, slowly pushing his fingers in as the (h/c) shivered. Sweat began to drip off of his face as he felt the ravenette behind him began caressing the inside of his hole, rubbing his walls and slowly pushing deeper and deeper.
"Mmnng just hurry up...please."
It was so teasing to feel the stranger trying to relax his hole by circling his fingers inside his ass. Clearly he wasn't lying when he said this was his first time with a man. "Patience is a virtue. I'll put it in soon." Daisuke teased (m/n) as he tapped his ass gently, the latter feeling heat rise on his face. As soon as they got out of this elevator, he's clocking his face.
Fingers pulled out and (m/n) sighed at the empty feeling in his anus but he heaved and immediately covered his mouth when Daisuke's tip suddenly impaled his entrance. The ravenette shivered as warmth enveloped his penis, he threw his head back and gazed at the mirror to see (m/n) but only found a shaking (h/c) whose head was facing the ground, concealing his expressions.
Daisuke frowned at that, wanting to see (m/n)'s face as he experimentally thrusted the rest of his penis in. He hissed at the tight hole, the (h/c) clenching down on him. The ravenette rubbed circles on (s/c) hips to calm him down as he felt the grip on his dick relaxing.
He let out a breath of relief as he gripped (m/n)'s hips and immediately pushed the rest of his cock in, hearing a muffled squeal from the (h/c). Daisuke grinned and took it as a green light, instantly thrusting in and out of his ass, moaning ardently. "F-Fucking hell. Haanh ha hah you feel so good-"
He took in the sight of his moving crotch and (m/n)'s ass colliding together, getting turned on more at the sight of his dick pounding into the squelching hole. The gas was too good at its job, precum leaking out of the (h/c)'s hole as Daisuke fucked into (m/n) harshly.
(m/n) cupped his mouth with his hand, not wanting to let out any lewd noises but having only little success. His thighs shook every time Daisuke's hips slapped into (m/n)'s behind. He could feel the ravenette's large cock pushing against his walls, filling him up to the brim.
Daisuke frowned at the (h/c)'s shirt as he pushed the fabric upwards, exposing a (s/c) back. A yelp escaped (m/n)'s lips as the ravenette licked a stripe up the (h/c)'s spine. The shock made him cum, semen squirting from his sensitive penis, spraying on the elevator walls.
The sudden tightness made Daisuke groan loudly as he stilled himself inside the (h/c). Unconsciously filling up (m/n)'s hole, the owner whimpered into his hand. "Urgh unh huh are we done-?"
"Required quota has not been achieved! Please try again!"
"Be so fucking for real right now." (m/n) groaned as he rested his head on the cool metal pole, he didn't move as Daisuke pulled out, liquid pulling out of his puffy hole. He could feel Daisuke's stare on his ass, he wiggled away when Daisuke began to poke into his drippy anus with his index finger.
Another wave of aphrosidiac poured into the lift from the vents, making (m/n) wanting to pull his hair out. What kind of sick pervert is making us do all of this??
"So."
The (h/c) let out a noise of shock as Daisuke suddenly hugged him close, pushing him against the mirror and the metail rail. "Can I do more than the back?" He smiled, blinking at (m/n) who stared at him in absurdity. The audacity??
Daisuke remained nonchalant, blinking his black eyes up at (m/n), his long lashes fluttering against his smooth white skin.
"...Fine."
Maybe (m/n) regretted saying that. Daisuke went on for so long, pushing him further up the wall, bringing up his left leg to push it against (m/n)'s chest. Exposing his puckered hole, the ravenette pushed in again, thrusting like a wild animal moaning like crazy in the (h/c)'s ear.
(m/n)'s leg was shaking, struggling to hold himself up on his tippy toes as he endured Daisuke's slams, covering his mouth again. The (h/c) shivered when Daisuke lapped his tongue at his ear, licking the shell and teasing him. He could feel cum from the previous round leaking down his leg.
"Don't cover your mouth please." The ravenette kissed (m/n)'s neck. "I want to hear you. Your voice." Daisuke pressed his lips on his jaw. "Please." He begged the (h/c), fucking himself in deep and slow earning a muffled whine.
His hand trembled before he hesitantly uncovered his mouth, Daisuke's face visibly lit up as he began to pound harder. (m/n)'s high pitched moans drawn out longer with each thrust. His hips shuddered when he felt a hand stroke his cock, pushing his precum out from the base of his dick.
His head was hot, everything felt hot, like he was smothered by a thick layer of warm air. And that warm air was causing him to these sinful things, well that's exactly what's happening.
(m/n) didn't even realised when they both had cummed. Only when Daisuke pulled himself back and began fingering his hole to get his attention. "Mmngg angh ah hn-!" "That's it. Thaaaaat's it."
Daisuke drew out his voice, whispering praise into (m/n)'s ear as he fished his semen in the tight entrance, rubbing his gummy walls. It was either the aphrosidiac had a love spell embedded into it or Daisuke was really attractive. The (h/c) took in his features, his sharp nose, round eyes and nice plump lips.
(m/n) felt like kissing the ravenette. He shook himself sober when he realised he was leaning into Daisuke's face, the latter disappointed when he pulled away.
It's fine if (m/n) doesn't feel like kissing him, Daisuke does. And he'll coax him using sex!
"Required quota has not been achieved! Please try again!"
The next few scenes were a blur to (m/n). All he could remember was that the gas was the thickest for the next hour, and he was moved into all sorts of positions. Daisuke fucked him up a wall, his arms under his knees as he held up the (h/c) like a champ, his muscles sweating as he teared off the rest of his clothing, exposing his bare body to (m/n).
His thrusts began to increase as well, the lust seeping in their veins were at its maximum as they fucked like wild animals in the small elevator. (m/n) whined for more by spreading his legs, biting on Daisuke's neck, nibbling on his skin and leaving marks all over his flushed neck.
Cumming into the (h/c), Daisuke pushed his thighs against the wall, fully spreading (m/n) open, the rim of his hole stretched as it throbbed around the ravenette's dick, massaging it and swallowing it whole. (m/n) no longer held back his voice, openly crying and moaning like a bitch in heat, fully accepting the gas into his system. Daisuke did a long time ago.
The ravenette breathed in (m/n)'s scent in his neck, inhaling before hovering over the (h/c)'s neck with his lips, experimentally kissing it all over. (m/n) bit his lower lip, gazing at the ravenette as he was still held in an embarrassing exposed position.
A pink tongue pressed against (m/n)'s Adam's apple, lapping it up with spit as he bit the skin with his fangs, breaking it. The (h/c) squirmed, mewling in Daisuke's hold. "Stop teasing me..." He muttered, his gaze elsewhere.
Black eyes scan (m/n)'s face before his right hand softly pulled his chin to make eye contact. Daisuke carefully leaned forward, his breath mixing in with (m/n)'s as he leaned in closer and closer, the tips of their noses touching. The (h/c) peered, his eyes moving left and right before stopping, gently blinking as he stared at the face in front of him.
Slowly, Daisuke's face moved lower, his lips brushing against (m/n)'s before full-on pressing them together. The (h/c) closed his eyes, relishing in the soft kiss as he felt his body relaxed in Daisuke's hold.
A swipe at his teeth and (m/n) opened his mouth, Daisuke eager to tie their tongues together, mashing them and coating them with saliva. Drool seeped out of the corner of Daisuke's mouth, he shoved his tongue against (m/n)'s gums, teeth and his palate.
They both ignored the announcement of the intercom as Daisuke lowered them to the floor. (m/n) wrapped his arms around the ravenette's neck, pulling him in closer and Daisuke tilted his head to obtain more access to the (h/c)'s delicious mouth.
The mood changed instantly, even with the gas dissipating, they were still going at it, both on their knees and Daisuke thrusting up into (m/n)'s bottom as he stationed himself behind the (h/c) whose top had been pulled off by Daisuke, exposing his chest. (m/n) moved himself as well, bouncing against Daisuke's thighs, impaling himself over and over, his head turned behind as he continued making out sloppily with the ravenette.
Passionate gasps tore through the small space of the elevator, especially from the (h/c) every time Daisuke thrusted a little too harsh, driving the tip of his cock into the bundle of nerves that drove (m/n) insane, making him see stars just from that small wet touch. Daisuke couldn't stop cumming in (m/n)'s ass. It was so addicting. It wasn't much different from a woman's but (m/n) was so incredible in his eyes.
Fingers rubbed and twisted (m/n)'s nipples, making the latter broke contact from Daisuke's face, a string of spit breaking as the (h/c)'s body shivered when the ravenette pressed his fingers harder. (m/n) jerkily shoved his ass down, tightening himself on Daisuke's cock, the ravenette gasped out and buried his face into the (h/c)'s shoulders as he immediately spilled cum in (m/n)'s already filled hole.
White semen dripped out onto the floor beneath them, (m/n) moving up and down shallowly on Daisuke's cock, teasing him. The (h/c) wanted more. Daisuke was close to passing out. Tiredly, he fell backwards, lying on the tile floor of the elevator. (m/n) whined as he turned around and crawled over the ravenette.
"Mmm are you done already?" (m/n) complained feverishly. Daisuke's cock was still hard, aphrosodiac working overtime but the owner could barely feel his hips anymore. "...I'm sleepy." He croaked out to which (m/n) frowned.
Daisuke flinched when he felt a tongue swiped across the bulb of his cock. (m/n) ran his tongue up until he reached the tip, sucking on the precious mushroom, licking the slit fervently. He released with a pop as he straddled the ravenette.
Nodding eagerly, he cried out for the (h/c) when his dick was enveloped in a plush warmth. (m/n) grinned lewdly, moving his hips side to side, clearly enjoying the joystick in his ass before he propped himself up with his hands and began to bounce on Daisuke's large cock.
His loud moans resonated in the small space as he threw his head back in pleasure, using Daisuke's penis like a warm dildo. Eyes twitching, his face was covered in sweat, his chin coated with a thin layer of drool and his anus was painted with thinning precum over and over again.
Daisuke's hands reached behind (m/n) and squeezed his plump ass, massaging and pulling at those soft cheeks. He slapped the (h/c)'s butt, earning a whorish moan, as he shamelessly thrusted himself up into (m/n). "C'mon- mmff! Just a bit more- mnggahh!"
Slaps of wet skin reverberated faster as Daisuke continuously smacked the (h/c)'s ass, rubbing his palm over the spot before hitting it again. (m/n) rode the ravenette harder, pressing down harshly, feeling the pit in his stomach burn intensely as he brought his hips up to clench on Daisuke's tip. Repeating the same motion for god knows how long before he came, squirting watery semen on Daisuke's abs.
The ravenette moved his hands to (m/n)'s hips, holding him in place as he pounded up into the (h/c)'s asshole from below, riding out (m/n)'s orgasm who cried out from overstimulation. He groaned and focused on chasing his own high as he slammed himself in and out of (m/n) until he felt himself tipping over the edge.
Daisuke came one last time, although his cum gushed out halfway through his thrust but he persevered and continued humping the (h/c) all while cumming for ten seconds straight.
Both paused, catching their breath before (m/n) collapsed on top of Daisuke, the latter wrapping his arms protectively around the (h/c) as he adjusted himself, making sure he pulled out and patted the (h/c)'s head before promptly passing out on the elevator floor.
(m/n) was still awake, his hands laying on Daisuke's chest as he stared at nothing, his mind blank and his balls empty, although his ass was filled. His eyes widened as he heard the familliar 'ding' of an elevator as he turned back to see the doors opening, revealing the garage they had came from earlier.
"Daisuke wake up! It's open!" He shook the ravenette in an attempt to wake him up but the latter only groaned and continued to remain in his dreamless slumber. (m/n) frowned as he hurriedly pried himself away Daisuke's strong hold.
He quickly dressed himself to the best of his abilities and donned on Daisuke's clothes onto the ravenette, not wanting him to get caught in a naked manner. Fixing his shoes, he collected himself and avoided the wet spots and quickly exited the elevator, wincing in every two steps he took.
With a final glance back to Daisuke, (m/n) hurriedly left the area, reminding himself not to use that same elevator ever again.
-
"(m/n)! Someone's looking for you."
The (h/c) looked up from his cubicle as he stood and approached his supervisor, the one who had called for him earlier. It had been two days since the incident. (m/n) lied to his boss, saying that he had overslept and took a sick day the next morning, not wanting to run into any weird shenanigans ever again. Especially the ravenette.
He tried asking his coworkers about some mysterious lift that's possessed by a sex demon but all he received was recommendations to a psychologist.
Stepping into a meeting room, guided by his supervisor, he was ushered inside and was immediately left alone, not noticing the other person in the room. "Hey! What's that for?" (m/n) pulled the door knob, knocking on the wooden surface.
"It's for me. I asked them to."
(m/n) froze, remembering the familliar voice. The voice he fucked two days ago in that really weird elevator. The same person he left alone, lying on the floor in a desperate attempt to save his own face.
"It wasn't hard to convince my father to search for you, you might know him. He's the CEO after all." Daisuke shrugged, playfully pulling the (h/c)'s tie, twirling it around his finger. He paused and smiled at (m/n).
"I miss you."
The (h/c) didn't know what to say and he opted to turn himself back around, not facing the ravenette as he tugged on the knob much more aggresively. Daisuke laughed as he pulled (m/n), who screeched and squirmed, into a hug.
"I wanna take you out, (m/n)! Even though we already skipped a couple of steps, I'd love for us to go on a date."
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[END SCENE]
[unedited]
Afterthoughts :
Oml i love it if the reader is a tad bit sassy or just an untouchable (not shy) beauty HEHE
OR WHEN LIKE THE TOP MOANS??? LIKE U WAN ME THAT BAD?? HEHEHHEEH
this the same daisuke that was in my ybc gangbang fic btw hoho and by Office AU means that this is not their official like storyline that i want, it's just an AU where they fucked in a horny elevator
I would describe Daisuke Yuichi as someone who's rich AF, daddy's boy (as in father is so protective of him), nice and polite (although everyone has a dark side 😉), kinda needy and demanding but in a "i dont want to say it so im just hinting it until u say yes" kinda way. The only character i would describe that looks like him the most (hair term) is kashima yuu💀. I hope u look forward to see him more!
more of daisuke yuichi! ☾
aftermath , profile
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some-bunniii · 6 months
Text
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!]
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“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.
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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.
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“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.
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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.
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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.”
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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.
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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
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rileyslibrary · 7 months
Note
Okay okay but hear me out- reader gets assigned on their first solo mission by Price and Ghost is inwardly concerned for them and keeps subtly giving tips to reader about the basics of any mission as way to prepare them
Hi, anon and thank you for requesting this! I made some minor adjustments to the original idea since I got lost in the process once I began writing. Reader is also fully aware of Ghost’s concerns and messes with him.
Fluffy, the usual banter, an emotionally constipated Ghost, yada yada. Enjoy!
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“Again,” Ghost murmurs as he shuffles through the row of tactical knives on the table. He decides on one, picks it up and walks towards you. “What is this?” He asks.
You look up from tying the laces of your boots and redirect your attention at him. He either believes you’re an idiot or doesn’t trust you enough. Either way, it’s not a good sign.
“Good question, Lieutenant,” you reply. “What you’re holding in your hands is a knife. Knives were one of the earliest tools used by humanity to-”
“Cut it out.”
“That’s correct!” you exclaim. “You mainly use one of those to cut stuff.”
A long sigh escapes him, and he throws his head up. He lowers the knife and walks towards the table, scratching the back of his balaclava with the other hand. He takes a few breaths, turns around and lifts the knife again.
“That’s not what I’m asking, and you know it.” He growls. “What kind of knife is it?”
“A sharp one.”
“Stop it.”
“You mean stab it?” you ask and continue tying your laces. “Yes. Yes, you can definitely stab with it.”
He throws the knife onto the table and leans on a chair, holding it with both hands. His brows are tied together, and you can see his jaw tightening beneath the balaclava.
“I need you to focus.” He says firmly. “This is not the right time for jokes.”
You stand up and walk towards him, now standing by his side. You grab his shoulder and squeeze it. He doesn’t budge, yet he slowly shakes his head.
“You’re worried.” You state.
“I’m not worried.” He replies. “I don’t know what Price was thinking; the stakes are too high for this to be your first solo mission.”
“So you don’t trust me.”
“Of course I trust you.” He says and lets go of the chair. “It’s just too dangerous for you to go alone.”
“So you are worried.” You whisper with a smirk.
He looks at you with the side of his eye and picks up a map from the table. He spreads it out in front of him.
“Alright,” he says, “let’s go over the route again.”
“Got it,” you nod. “So, what’s the plan?”
“What do you mean, ‘what’s the plan?’” He shouts, turning to look at you with wide eyes. “We’ve been through this-”
“-a hundred times now.” You interrupt. “Yet you still want to go over it again and again and again and again.”
“I just need you to be ready.”
“I am ready!”
“Then go on,” he says, pushing the map towards you, “what’s the plan?”
“Alright,” you begin, pointing to a door on the eastern side of the facility. “I’ll start here, at the service entrance. It’s not heavily guarded since they mainly use it for their occasional smoke breaks.”
“But you’ll still need to be cautious,” He adds.
You ignore his remark and continue to outline the route.
“From there,” you say, moving your finger along a series of corridors, “I’ll make my way through the maintenance tunnels. They’re narrow and dark but should provide good cover from security patrols.”
“And when you reach the central hub,” Ghost continues, pointing to a large room at the heart of the facility, “you’ll need to be especially careful since that’s where the security is the tightest. There’s only one entry point, so once you get to this door you should-”
“Knock.”
He slowly turns towards you and gives you a side-eye. “You’re not taking this seriously,” he whispers.
“On the contrary, Lieutenant,” you jest. “I’m deadly serious.”
“Deadly serious?” he scoffs and shakes his head. “You might end up seriously dead if you don’t pay attention.”
You roll your eyes and let out a sigh.
“When I get close to that door,” you say, pointing at the map, “I’ll wait for Soap and Gaz to manipulate the security systems and set off the alarms. Once the commotion is at its highest, I’ll infiltrate the hub, collect the intel, and escape through the ventilation shafts.”
“Right,” he says and folds the map. “Do you have everything you need?”
You turn your attention to yourself, checking your tactical vest, and he does the same. His eyes scan over every piece of equipment on you. He walks around you, tracing his fingers along the edges of your gear, checking for any signs of damage. He reaches out to adjust a loose strap on your vest, ensuring it’s securely fastened.
“You need to make sure everything is secure,” he says as he continues to search each pocket and pouch on you, ensuring that your supplies are well-stocked and easily accessible. “We can’t risk losing any essential gear during the mission.”
You follow him with your eyes and smirk as he inspects you. “Is that what worries you?” You ask. “Losing gear?”
He pauses for a second and meets your eyes. “You know what I mean,” he says as he tightens a buckle on your waist. He takes a few steps back and nods. “Everything looks good,” he concludes.
“Alright,” you nod back and walk towards the door. “Let’s do this.”
“Stay sharp out there!” he shouts.
“Yeah, yeah,” You shout back as you exit the briefing room, “sharp like a knife!”
———————————————————————
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arlertwhore · 1 month
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pairing: paige bueckers x fem! reader
warning(s): nsfw/18+, fighting (verbal/physical), toxic relationship stuff, fingering, thigh riding, pussy eating, squirting,
synopsis: the bitchy, possessive, and temperamental gf who paige thinks she can handle proves her right!
word count: 2.4k
Author Note: got my first lil hate comment the other day 😜 i feel like an actual writer now lmao! here goes draft #6, comin’ in lit 🔥
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Fuck knows what you're complaining about this time. She's straight from practice — from a rigorous, exhausting, and intense practice, frustrated with her own performance, only to find you waiting at the door, already irritated about something entirely. Perhaps it was how she didn’t answer you at all today—or how you saw her looking too close for comfort to another 'fan' as she claimed, though you never trusted it—or maybe she even fucking sighed at you the wrong way upon entering through the door because the littlest of things ticked you off—you—her bitchy, demanding, and infuriatingly sexy girlfriend, whom Paige has to constantly remind herself she willingly got involved with, knowing full well she was signing up for the being the figurative property of the brattiest, bossiest, most high-maintenance girl on campus.
"Are you even listening to me?!" you fume as Paige storms past you, stripping a trail of her clothes all the way to the bathroom, letting her hair fall loose from its low bun as she saunters away from your chaos, massaging her temples.
"Seriously, Y/N, now's not the time, I gotta-" - "I don't give a fuck!" you explode, chasing after her and grabbing her arm to spin her back around. "I don't care about your shitty day or your shitty excuses. Why the fuck didn't you text me back, hm?" Paige sighs, avoiding your eyes with an air of exasperation, her gaze shifting to the ceiling in an attempt to not roll them. At her silence, you feel your anger boil over, frustration evident in the clenched fist at your sides and the tense set of your jaw. "You're the fucking worst, Paige!" you snap, "You think just because I'm understanding that means you can take pictures with all these other bitches, post all on your Instagram, but then NOT text me back!"
Paige knew she was the man, the kind of person who could handle any challenge, which is why she thought dating someone like you—a real piece of work—would be a good match. She believed you could keep her on her toes, pushing her to become mentally stronger, more confident, and dominant—qualities she hoped would shine on the court, but on days like this, when you demanded drama and chaos, she wondered if she was truly cut out for it. Her honest, no-bullshitting, no-pretense attitude of: My girlfriend is so sexy opinion? Nah. And she promptly proved that stance when she spat out, “Alright, I’m sorry, baby… Is that what you want me to say? That I’m sorry I have things to do and you act like a bitch about it?” her voice venomous and defensive, stunning you. “Man, get the fuck out of my way right now. I don’t feel like fighting with you, for real,” she demanded, trying to brush past you. You couldn’t believe she actually spoke to you like that—she was usually so considerate of your feelings. In a fit of rage, you squared up to her and pushed her back by her shoulders with a strength you didn’t know you had over the 6ft wall of strength she was. Growling, you commanded, “You’re gonna stand here until WE’RE done talking!”
Paige stands with her hands on her hips, clenching at her sides with such restraint that her basketball shorts ride up, revealing her boxers underneath. She warns, "Stop playin' with me, yo. Step aside." and as she advances again, trying to get to the bathroom door behind you, you block her path, arms crossed and eyes flashing. Sneering, you challenge defiantly, "No. What are you gonna do if I don’t step aside, P? Hm? You gonna hit me?"
She takes a deep breath, drops her head, and shakes it exasperatedly before a light chuckle escapes her, broad shoulders bouncing. “Whatever, ma,” she mutters, turning around and picking up the clothes she’d left scattered on the floor. “I’m gonna go shower at Mikayla’s — forget this.”
You don’t have enough time to be angry about her saying she’s visiting Mikayla’s house—the slut you’d warned her to stay away from. Instead, you sprint to the front door, grab her keys off the rack, and hide them behind your back. Coldly, you say, “You’re mine, Paige. Turn around and get your ass in bed, NOW! You ain’t goin’ nowhere.”
Paige knows you and your past well enough to recognize that you aren’t joking about this possessiveness. However, she’s far from intimidated at the moment. Instead of backing down or appeasing you like she usually does for her princess, she glares at you with a fiery defiance. Her voice is firm as she refutes, “Give me my keys, Y/N.”
You gaze at her, a smirk forming on your face as you watch her façade of nonchalance crumble. Her face turns a subtle red, veins bulging in her hands as she holds them open, waiting for the keys, her lips curled inward and cheeks hollowed. She stands there expectantly, like a statue, until you bristle as she seizes your wrist, slamming it against the door while reaching for the keys with her other hand. Instinctively, you counter with your free hand, pushing her away. She’s lost her calm and collected demeanor. It’s scarier how she doesn’t run but still chases you with the relentlessness of a predator. Her eyes blaze with determination as she follows your running with a steady, purposeful stride. You taunt, “Come and get it, doggy! Yeah, you little bitch!” luring her toward the bathroom, the only room in the house with a lock, and Paige knows exactly what you’re up doing. Just before you can slam the door in her face, Paige lunges for it and forces it open, stepping inside and backing you against the door. This time, she tries a different approach to get the keys—she clasps your waist, holding you in place with her knees pressed against your smaller legs, effectively immobilizing you. As she tussles with you for the keys, you keep a tight grip on them. The struggle is fierce, and you're both panting in each other’s faces, exchanging only ragged breaths. You finally manage to break free from the bathroom and run for the bedroom with Paige hot on your heels. As you glance over your shoulder to see where she’s at, you realize too late that she’s no longer focused on reclaiming her keys. With a swift tackle, she takes you down onto the bed, pinning you there and forcing you into submission. The keys fall out of your hand, but Paige remains on top of you, her anger unrepairable as she growls, “Wanna bitch at me like that when I’m tired?” Her big hands begin to untie your nightrobe. “Wanna piss me off when I’m trying to be nice about things?”
She moves with an almost animalistic quality, yanking you down the bed by your legs and sending your clothes flying off with the force of her pull, baring your body to her hungry blue eyes. She hisses against your neck, “Little bitch?” and you nod rebelliously, “Yeah..fuck,” you heave, “look at you, so pissed, hm?” Her words are unbearably sexy when she vows, “I’ll show you a little bitch.” Mere moments later, she’s seated on the edge of the bed, with you draped over her lap like a ragdoll. You’re writhing, still trying to resist, biting and clawing at her thighs, but Paige’s grip is unyielding. Under her strength, you’re completely powerless.
Her hands spread your ass open, giving her a clear view of your dripping pussy. She chuckles cockily, the smirk evident in her voice even though you're not looking at her when she drawls, “This is why you’re really bitchin’ out, huh, ma?”
You whine at her words, stuttering and squirming, “Let me go, Paige, f-fuck!”
She tuts dismissively. “Aw, but that’s not what you really want, baby... you just need this pussy fucked, don’t you? To get fucked back to your senses—make you my good girl again, my princess...” she purrs, her fingers sliding through your slick and teasing your asshole. Then you hear the dirtiest, most sinful suck of fingers in her mouth you’ve ever heard.
Hips arched high with her strong arm restraining you from running, pressed firmly into your lower back, punching pressure deep within and outside of you, all aligning on the inside, she works her fingers into your soaking wet cunt with precision. She curls and bruises against your walls, relentlessly hitting that spot that makes you squirm like a torture puppet and cry out, "Ah!" for your dear life.
Her smarmy, taunting response? “I know, baby, I know, fuck… too tight for it, I know,” she bellows, feeding off your whimpers and whines with a sadistic delight. That smirk on her face—the one you wish you hadn't turned back to see—tells you she's savoring this victory a little too much and has no intention of letting you go anytime soon, even if you've clearly accepted that you're the little bitch. “Please,” you plead, sinking your nails into her thigh, but it doesn’t seem to perturb her in the slightest—if anything, it only eggs her on, makes her devilishly speed up. “It won’t happen again—I-I won’t act like a bitch anymore, daddy, I’m sorry,” you submit, hoping for some mercy, but she’s unforgiving. She chuckles darkly, yanking you up by your hair so you’re forced to look her in the eye, even if hers aren’t fully focused on yours, watching how your tits bounce as she fucks you senseless. “One more time,” she stares at them, biting her bottom lip with a smirk before she refocuses and demands it sternly. Without hesitation, you repeat it louder before she even finishes her command: “I won’t act like a bitch anymore, daddy, I’m sorry!” She smirks, her grip tightening. "I know you won't. Not after I'm done with you." She releases your head, and you fall forward hard, your back arching under what feels like tons of weight as she drives into you overwhelmingly, making you cry out in shock. "Shit!" you gasp, involuntarily pushing back against her long fingers to soften the blow and the jam, so forcefully that your ass claps with each thrust as she fucks into you.
“Say my name, baby, who’s fucking you,” Paige demands. You groan, clenching around her thick, long fingers and spilling spurts of slick arousal as you pant, “You, Daddy!” Paige tilts her head, unsatisfied. “Nah.” Her hand, once forcing down your back, quickly wraps around your throat, clasping firmly as she whispers, “Tell me, Ma.” With the blonde holding you tightly, despite your attempts to escape, with no leverage, she easily grips you by the throat like a puppet, forcing you back onto her fingers with insane speed and force. She thrusts into you even faster, your clit now grinding against her thigh. You hike a leg up in a desperate attempt to run or crawl away, but she's got you firmly in place.
“Paige! Paige, Paige, Paige, you’re fucking me!” you cry out.
“And you like it, baby? Like how my fingers feel fucking that tight pussy?” she taunts, flexing her leg muscles and increasing the friction.
“Aww shit,” you moan strainedly, feeling the familiar coil in your stomach emerge. Your body still tries to crawl away, but your brain forces you to stay put, losing all the air inside you.
“Stop fucking running, ma, take it,” she commands. “Take it, baby, just cum for me, kay? Cum for me, give me your cum.”
You listen to the sound of your cunt, feel it pulsing and clenching around her fingers before you give up and stop fighting and allow all the pleasure crash over you, your body convulsing as your orgasm hits. You gasp and cry out, surrendering to the intense sensation as your cunt tightens rhythmically around her fingers, your clit throbbing against her thigh. She fucks you through your orgasm, continuing even after that, giving you no recovery time, no chance to catch your breath before she has you on your back, legs still spread and a wet mess beneath you. Leaning in, she murmurs, “Be good for me, be still, kay? Let me clean you up—jus' lemme taste you, baby.”
Your hand comes up to cover your face, crying out as you feel her tongue glide through your folds. Gripping onto her hair tightly, you sob—a genuine cry from the overstimulation. Through your tears, you manage to gasp, “Fuck, baby, it hurts so good, ugh!”
You shout and clamp your legs shut, burying her with a guttural scream once her fingers scissor your folds and hold them open, her tongue flicking exactly against your clit, making direct contact.
She pries your legs open inhumanly, like an uncaring monster, her voice resounding and vibrating in your cunt, "Hold your ankles in the air." a command.
You obey, and she’s even nice enough to help, her strong arms holding your legs apart as she laps and slurps up all your cum like she’s parched, her swallows audible and incredibly sexy.
You look down at her and watch her head shake around wildly, losing herself in the abyss, entranced. You try to push her away by bucking into her face, hands occupied, but you end up unintentionally pushing her closer instead. You whine out desperately, your toes, nipples, and cunt especially on fire. "Pl-PLEASE!" you gasp, "I c-can't, I’m gonna—" Her fingers replace her tongue on your clit, while her tongue dips inside you as she murmurs, "Mhm," You cover your face, and the last thing you hear before you pass out is the frantic noise of her tongue fighting to slip even deeper inside you. There’s the sound of a leak, then the subsequent opening of your eyes after what feels like days. You look down at your girlfriend to find her face glistening in a pool of arousal, juices smeared everywhere. Her first instinct? To lick around her mouth, trying to savor the taste as she smiles at you smugly, knowing she’s clearly gotten her point across to your fucked-out self.
Needless to say, Paige has proven herself to you as she knew she would always: she is NOT someone to be underestimated.
MASTERLIST
AUTHOR NOTE #2: uhh so i reread this and i just wanna know if anybody else reading this who writes, is it crazy i reread my own work and blush at it like a viewer 😅 am i a freak guys 😅😅😅 do you do that too?? ANYWAY GUYS PLS INTERACT WITH ME ILY ALL MWAH!
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rebelfell · 28 days
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shelter from the storm
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eddie munson x fem!reader
When your power gets knocked out, your neighbor comes to check on you and make sure you’re okay. Among other things.
18+, MDNI 2.8k
cw: plus-size reader, drinking/smoking, references to r’s shitty ex/domestic disputes, some good old making out & grinding.
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The lights in your trailer barely flickered as the storm outside knocked out your power. 
In an instant you were plunged into total darkness, broken up only by brief flashes of lightning that struck overhead. The silence that engulfed you was almost oppressive, the outage having silenced everything, down to the ambient noise you had grown so accustomed to you only noticed it missing once it was gone—the distant drone of your A/C unit, the steady hum of your fridge, the static buzz of your radio.
They all ceased at once, leaving only the sounds of the storm.
You’d curled up on the sofa just as it was getting starting, your eyes drifting from the old black and white movie playing on your TV to watch the trees bend and sway in the howling winds, dark clouds heavy with rain rolling in to blot out the sun.
And if you just so happened to catch a glimpse of your next door neighbor outside weatherproofing his windows, dressed in nothing but gray sweats slung dangerously low on his narrow hips and toned, tapered waist…
Well, that was just a bonus.
You certainly hadn’t chosen this spot in particular for its view of Eddie’s place. And it wasn’t like you had sat here many, many times before to watch him lounging on his porch, strumming his beat-up acoustic, or doing maintenance on his van in a sweaty tank top that clung so artfully to his lean frame, showing off sinewy, tattooed arms that flexed with every crank of a wrench and made your mouth run dry imagining his veins bulging while he cranked something else.
No, you simply enjoyed watching the storm. Seeing the rain come down in sheets, darkening the earth and tamping down the dust of the main dirt road. You found it oddly soothing to see the garishly bright cracks of lightning split the sky before the BOOM of thunder that followed.
At least until the power went out.
You jumped slightly at it, in spite of yourself, heartbeat picking up in your chest as the sound of your heavy breathing filled the air. You inhaled deeply, taking a moment to steady yourself only for you to jump all over again as someone started knocking rhythmically on your front door.
It was Eddie. And he was drenched.
In the handful of seconds it must have taken him to leave his place and cross the road, he had been effectively soaked through.
His clothes were clinging to him, his white shirt translucent enough in some places you could see the black ink drawings scrawled on his skin under it. And his long hair, typically all frizz and fluff, had started to form into wet clumps, his short bangs plastered to his forehead, water running down his soft features. And his pants…
Well, you couldn’t even trust yourself to look down at his pants right now.
But even in his current state, his smile still shone like pure sunshine as he grinned and motioned behind you inside your darkened trailer.
“I saw your lights went out too,” he said. “Wanted to make sure you’re alright.”
“Oh…oh yeah, I’m–I’m fine,” you replied, shifting excitedly under the intensity of his gaze.
“You sure? You look a little…” His eyes flickered as they ran up and down your body, lingering on the sight of your bare legs in your sleep shorts, your thighs pressed tight together. “...spooked.”
You swallowed harshly, practically gulping as his eyes returned to your face.
“N-no, I’m just—” you tittered nervously, “Sorry, it must be the storm. I’m fine, really.”
“Oh. Okay. I, uh…I guess I’ll be going, then” he said, glancing out at the storm raging beyond the cover of your porch. You felt your bottom lip pull between your teeth as you watched him turn.
“Eddie, wait!”
You called out to him, words tumbling forth in a mad dash. For a moment, you feared the storm might be too loud and he wouldn’t hear you over it, but it seemed your voice had risen enough to make him pause, his foot hovering over the top step, Adidas slide being pelted with rain.
“Do you want a drink?” you asked.
He looked back at you over his shoulder and then slowly swiveled back around, the corner of his mouth turning up into a smirk. You licked your lips, still trying to be coy as you held his gaze.
“I made up a cooler in case the power went out,” you explained. “Y’know, just to avoid opening up the fridge. Wasn’t exactly expecting to need it so soon, but…”
You gave a little shrug of your shoulders and leaned up against the door frame. Eddie’s eyes traveled all across your body again, and from the salacious look in his eyes, you might have thought you’d just offered to blow him right there on your porch. Which you hadn’t. Not yet, anyway.
He jerked his chin lightly in a nod, Cheshire Cat grin spreading. Teeth showing.
“Sounds perfect, sweetheart.”
Eddie settled himself in on the couch while you went to retrieve a pair of beers from the cooler, lighting some candles along your way.
Seeing the one you’d preemptively set out on the coffee table, he leaned forward and dug his Zippo from his pocket. He lit it on his thigh, dragging it towards his body to open the top cover and then flicking it forward against his pant leg to strike it.
A long flame emerged from the silver box and he touched it to the wick, face bathed in the same wash of warm, orange light as when he lit up a cigarette or a joint. He caught your eye as you watched him from the kitchen and you chuckled when he started to expertly flip the lighter over and under his fingers, shiny metal catching the candlelight before it was tucked away.
He held his hand out for the beer you extended as you approached and you tried not to think too hard about just how large it looked as it wrapped around the emerald body of the bottle, his chunky silver rings only making his long fingers look all the more delectable. The flame from the candle on the table reflected in his eyes that had gone black in the dark. As though they were all pupil.
“Nice view,” he smirked, his gaze dancing as he nodded out the window at his own trailer.
“It’s okay,” you sighed, settling into the cushions. “Except for when my neighbor’s out there.”
“Oh, yeah?” Eddie’s brow arched, crooked smile still spread wide. “He must be super distracting. Can’t keep your eyes off him, can you?” 
You scrunched your nose, bobbing your head.
“More like I can’t get a minute of peace with all the racket he makes.”
You stuck your foot out to kick him, but gasped softly as he wrapped his hand firmly around your ankle and pulled your leg into his lap. Your toes wiggled against his thigh and Eddie’s grip on you loosened. He brushed his fingertips in swirling circles up your bare calf, letting them drift lightly over your skin until he heard your breath stutter and felt you shiver under his touch.
Shit. How long had it been since someone had touched you like that?
Eddie stopped himself halfway to your knee, eyes lifting to meet yours from under a raised brow in a silent question of, is this alright?
And you aren’t quite sure of your answer. 
You’ll have to let him know once you figure out whether or not you’re dreaming.
A clap of thunder outside restarts your heart in your chest. Your whole foot flexed instinctively, the dampness under it reminding you of how he had arrived, soaked through and dripping.
“Do you want some dry clothes?” you asked, drawing your leg back and tucking it underneath you. “I have some stuff you can wear, y’know. Sweats and a tee shirt.”
No underwear, but you don’t say that. 
Eddie’s tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek and he stared intently at your mouth as he thought, startling when he realized how long he’d been quiet for. Like he forgot how to talk.
“I’d love it,” he said, eyes never leaving your lips.
You slinked back towards the bedroom and went to your closet to dig out the last lone box of your ex’s shit—your spite box, for lack of a better term. It contained all the things he’d been asking you if you’d seen anywhere since he moved out.
Things you felt he no longer had any right to.
Among them, a Venom tee from their Seven Dates of Hell tour you’d found at a flea market and he’d just started wearing because it was “too small for you, anyway,” apparently; and a pair of cashmere joggers you’d splurged on as a gift when he burned a hole in his regular pair.
“Bathroom’s through there,” you said, nodding towards it as you held out the clothes to Eddie.
He rose off the couch abruptly, crowding into your space so your bodies were just inches apart. His scent came off him and made a home in your nose, thick and musky like suede and a bit earthy like the weed he might have smoked earlier or maybe even had on his person.
You found yourself fluttering at the sudden intrusion. But you didn’t dare pull away.
His face was even more beautiful up close, littered sparsely with freckles you had never noticed before. The lines under his cheeks so deep you could see them even when he wasn’t smiling. The slightly round, almost bulbous tip of his nose that added to his soft features.
Warmth enveloped your fingers as he laid his hands over yours to take the clothes from you, so much electricity buzzing between you you half expected all the lights to jolt back to life.
“Thanks, sweetheart,” he purred. All low and rumbly like the distant thunder.
You tried to answer, but with your mouth and throat suddenly achingly dry for some reason, you could only nod as he brushed past you to go change. Blaming the lack of A/C for the way your face flushed and how your chest heaved, struggling to draw air into your lungs.
Reaching for your beer that was already starting to sweat with condensation, you gulped down a long swallow merely for some relief. And you nearly spat it out at what you saw next.
You couldn’t see Eddie, but he left the door open while he changed and his top half was just barely visible in the mirror. He was mostly shrouded in shadows, but the flame that flickered in there danced over the shape of his torso and the angular planes of his back as he turned.
The soft clinking sound of him undoing his belt preceded him dropping his pants, revealing that slutty little waist of his and the very top curve of his ass. Internally, you cursed your mirror for cutting off where it did and then chastised yourself for even looking.
Fucking pervert, you thought bitterly.
You returned to the couch and forcibly turned your head back towards the window. The rain was coming down so hard now you couldn’t even see Eddie’s place. It made your heartbeat quicken at the thought that he might not want to go back out in it anytime soon. That he might stay.
“These belong to numb nuts?” Eddie asked from behind you with a smirk you could hear.
He plopped himself back down on the sofa, so close it made you bounce slightly on the middle cushion, his knee now brushing with yours.
You paused for a moment, admiring the sight of him. The shirt was a little big, but it hung nicely on his broad shoulders and he’d tucked the hem partially into the waistband of the joggers. They certainly looked a lot better on him than they ever did on your ex.
“Technically,” you smirked back, “I kept them in lieu of alimony.”
Eddie smiled, but it fell slightly, his eyes cast downward to where your knee met his. He ran his thumb over the valley between them, touching yours and then his in a steady rhythm.
“You doing alright?” he asked. “With all that?”
You shrank slightly, thinking of all your fights with him Eddie might have overheard. All of the times you slammed the door as you stormed out and went to sit on the picnic table in your robe and slippers, eyes stinging as you tried not to cry.
You were so tired of crying.
More than a few times, Eddie had happened to come out with a cigarette while you were there. He always shrugged off your apologies, like he didn’t know what you were talking about when you told him you were sorry about the noise.
He’d just shook his head and muttered, don’ ever need to apologize to me for that as he pulled a Camel from his pack with his teeth.
Before long, h’d started to pull out two and lit them both at once before handing you the spare.
“I think I am, actually,” you said, surprising yourself with how true it was. “I…I don’t think I realized just how much of his shit I was carrying around with me until I put it down.”
Eddie nodded thoughtfully and his eyes flitted back up to your face, a proud smile on his lips.
“Good girl,” he said, his voice far too deep and his eyes too dark for you to mistake his intentions.
The praise trickled down your spine like you were underneath a shower head with a slow leak.
It made you squirm with need, nearly convulsing you wanted so badly to turn on the tap full blast and let the water spray down your back.
Eddie licked his lips and he nodded downward, making you think for one mind-melting second that he was trying to get you to look at his cock. But he was just indicating the pants on his legs.
“These are so soft,” he hummed. And your eyes followed his hand as he rubbed it back and forth across his own thigh before they lifted to meet his gaze. “You wanna feel?”
He shifted down in his seat, letting himself sink fully into the cradle of the cushions. Both his feet planted solidly on the floor, legs spread slightly apart so his lap looked like the most inviting and enticing seat you’d ever seen in your life. It made your heart hammer as you stared at it.
“C’mover here, pretty,” he said, patting his thigh once more. “Please?”
Your head shook on instinct. “Eddie, no, I’m—”
He silenced the too heavy already queued up on your lips by wrapping his hand around the back of your neck and pulling your face into his. He licked the words right off your tongue and swallowed them down like they were his abandoned beer.
The surprise of his mouth on yours made your mind blank, your body and instincts taking over completely as you scrambled on top of him.
As your knees settled on either side of his hips, he groaned deeply—not in pain, not grunting with effort, just with the pure joy of finally getting to feel your weight settling onto him.
His arms slid around your waist and he squeezed you against him even tighter, encouraging you to give more of that exquisite pressure. He kissed you until your lungs burned from the lack of oxygen, your head falling forward to lay on his shoulder as you tried to catch your breath.
You inhaled more of his scent, extra concentrated at his neck, making you dizzy with his musk. 
He kissed along your shoulder, to your neck, to the lobe of your ear he took between his lips and sucked on it like it was your clit—hard.  And your reaction was more or less the same as if it was.
Your back arched, chest squishing up against his until his chin rested in your cleavage. His arms un -wound from around you to run his hands up the curve of your spine, making you shiver when his fingertips reached the nape of your neck.
“I’ve seen you watching me,” he husked gently in your ear, feeling the goosebumps that raised on your skin. “I know what you want…”
A gasp fluttered in your chest as his hands dropped to your thighs, rough palms coasting across soft skin until every single one of your fine hairs was standing on end. He then grabbed onto your ass, firmly gripping your cheeks in each hand to haul you forward in his lap, the firm shape of his hard cock pressing insistently against the dampness soaking through your shorts.
“How about…” He groaned low in your ear once again, his warm breath rushing across your neck, “...we see how many times I can make you cum before the lights turn back on?”
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ty for reading. love you, mean it! ☔️
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ange1heavensent · 22 days
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Do I Make You Nervous, Ellie?
:。.。:+* ゚ ゜゚ *+:。.。:+* ゚ ゜゚ *+:。.。.。:+*゚ ゜゚ *+:。.。:
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Pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader
Content Warning: reader has a husband, palpable tension, eye fucking, fic inspired by the movie Bound (1996)
w/c ≈ 1200
:。.。:+* ゚ ゜゚ *+:。.。:+* ゚ ゜゚ *+:。.。.。:+*゚ ゜゚ *+:。.。:
The ding of the elevator rang through the empty hall. Your husband was talking your ear off about some sort of work drama as the two of you stepped through the metallic doors. You leaned softly against the wall, eyes flicking to your husband as he pressed the elevator button to your floor. It was the first night that the two of you would spend in your new apartment. The place was supposed to be a new start for the two of you. You tried to let the move settle into your bones, but the newness felt off. Something was missing, something you hadn’t yet put your finger on. Your thoughts were interrupted, as the doors were about to shut, someone from further down the hall yelled out.
“Hold the doors!”
Your husband pressed the button, which opened the elevator doors yet again and in walks a figure that immediately draws your attention. She’s dressed in  a worn leather jacket slung over a plain white t-shirt that clings to her lean, muscular frame. Her hands are shoved into the pockets of dark jeans, and there's a slight smudge of paint on her forearm, peeking from beneath the rolled-up sleeve. She has that effortless kind of confidence, the kind that demands attention without ever asking for it.
Your husband gives her a nod, polite but indifferent. You, on the other hand, feel a sharp jolt in your chest as you lock eyes with her. Those deep green eyes, flecked with just enough softness to draw you in, but sharp enough to keep you on your toes. She glances at you, barely a second, but the tension is undeniable.
Ellie nods back in acknowledgment as she walks past your husband, before she leans back against the elevator wall beside you and then shifts her gaze towards you. Out of the corner of your eyes, you saw a smirk tugging at her lips, and damn if it didn’t make your stomach flip. The elevator ride was short, but every second of it felt like an eternity under her sharp gaze. When the doors opened to your floor, she stepped out first, with a nod in your direction, her eyes lingering on yours just long enough to make your pulse race again.
You and your husband stepped out after, following her down the hallway lined with apartment doors. Then she stopped in front of one, keys jingling as she opened the door. You walked past, moving further down the hallway, but as you passed her you locked eyes once again. This time you sent her a wink, before she stepped inside. 
Days pass. Your routine is simple, the mundane tasks of domestic life, your husband working long hours, leaving you alone in the apartment. But your thoughts keep drifting to her - the mysterious woman down the hall, who’s seemingly renovating one of the units in the building.
It starts innocently enough. You see her in the hallway a few times, catching fleeting glances that last a little too long to be accidental. Her presence is always lingering, her confidence radiating even when she’s just minding her own business with a toolbox in hand. There’s something so intoxicating about the way she carries herself, so sure of who she is, unbothered by the world around her.
Then, an “accident” occurs. You’re standing in front of the kitchen sink, washing dishes and  absentmindedly fiddling with your engagement ring when it slips from your finger. It bounces off the edge of the sink, twirls once in the air, and falls down the drain with a soft, metallic clink. You bite your lip, staring down at the sink for a moment longer than necessary. Your husband won’t be home for hours. You could call the building maintenance, but where’s the fun in that?
Your mind immediately jumps to her.
Before you know it, you’re standing in front of her door, heart racing beneath your chest. You knock twice, listening to the echo in the empty hallway before the door swings open. Ellie leans against the doorframe, wiping her hands on a rag. She raises an eyebrow, amusement flickering in her eyes as she takes you in.
"Need something?" she asks, her voice low and smooth, the kind that sends a wave of heat straight through you. You swallowed, straightening your posture, before calmly answering, “Yes, I do. I dropped my ring down the sink. Thought maybe you could help me out?” You raised an eyebrow, never faltering eye contact. 
Ellie’s smirk deepened as she studied you for a long moment, letting the silence stretch between you. You could feel her eyes on you, dragging slowly from your lips and down your neck. She pushed off the doorframe and stepped forward, closing the distance between you until she was standing just inches away.
“Sure,” she said, her voice low, almost teasing. “I can help you with that.” She wipes her hands one last time before tossing the rag aside and grabbing a small toolbox by the door. "Lead the way."
-
Back in your apartment, Ellie kneels in front of the sink, sleeves pushed up as she unscrews the pipe beneath. You stand nearby, watching her every move, trying to distract yourself from the growing tension in the room. The way her hands move so confidently, so sure, it’s impossible not to admire her. She glances up at you, catching you staring, she quickly looks away, heat rising on her cheeks.
"Got it," Ellie announced, holding up your ring between her fingers. She stood up, handing it back to you with a playful grin. "Try to be more careful next time." You took the ring, but your eyes never left hers. "Thank you," you murmured softly.
She didn’t step back. Neither did you.
Her gaze dropped to your lips and your stomach fluttered. The intensity of the moment was almost too much, but you didn’t pull away. You just stood there, the air between you thick with desire. Ellie’s hand brushed against yours, her fingertips ghosting over your knuckles, sending a shiver down your spine. It was just a touch, barely there, but it was enough to make you ache. You parted your lips to speak, but nothing came out. You didn’t know what to say. So you just stood there, staring at each other, until the apartment door unlocked and your husband announced that he was home, shattering the moment.
Ellie stepped back, her hand dropping to her side as her gaze flickered away. "I should go," she said, her voice still low and teasing. “Thanks for the help…” you said, urging her to say her name. “Ellie” she quickly replied as she awkwardly reached her hand out. You shook it, “Y/n.” As if on cue, your husband stepped into the kitchen.
With a final nod, Ellie walked back towards the door, sending a nod of acknowledgment towards your husband. But before she was out of sight she glanced over her shoulder “If you need anything else…” she trailed off, leaving the offer hanging in the air.
And then she was gone.
The weight of the ring on your finger felt a little heavier that night.
:。.。:+* ゚ ゜゚ *+:。.。:+* ゚ ゜゚ *+:。.。.。:+*゚ ゜゚ *+:。.。:
Click here for part 2 - with some smut ;)
Thank you for reading! If you liked this fic, check out my masterlist for more :)
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cntloup · 7 months
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RetiredHusband!Simon x Wife!Reader HCs
18+ MDNI fluff, nsfw, pregnancy
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After he retires, he'd settle at home. He does most of the housework when you're at work, but you love the times you spend with him doing mundane stuff, and you'd feel bad if you left all that work to him, so you have a laundry day when you both work together, but it almost always ends with you on the washing machine and him between your legs. Or your elbows on the washing machine and him behind you. 
He's a great cook. He makes some simple but exquisite dishes. In the military, he had to tolerate the bland MREs (idk how they taste but they look awful), so when he was back home, he'd learn to make some tasty meals for himself when he was living alone. And then for you when you came into his life. Your mouth starts to water at the delightful smell the moment you walk into the house. If you mention that you've been gaining some weight because of his delicious food, he'd honestly love it. He'd constantly touch the plush of your hips and belly, lightly squishing them with his hands while kissing you. He's happy that you like his food and you're well-fed and healthy.
Maintenance and repairs. He's excellent with his hands and understanding how things work, so the moment you notice something needs fixing, he’s on it. Most of the time you don’t even notice it cause he’s already done it when you were gone. He wouldn’t let it bother you even a second. If you ever find him working under the sink or in the garage working on his car, you’re in for a show. The way his muscles flex while working with a wrench, or when he manhandles a heavy object, his dirty greasy hands, sweat dripping down his forehead and his shirt sticking to his body, his pecs and abs visible to your hungry eyes, get you drooling and squeezing your thighs together. He gets super cocky if he notices (he always does), even more than usual. 
He makes sure to always have some fresh flowers on display in the living room and your favorites on your vanity table. Sometimes he stands by the door with a flower behind his back to give it to you when you walk in. He even learns how to make flower crowns and how to braid hair with flowers from youtube videos. After a few hours of grunting and groaning in frustration when he messes up, he finally masters the art. Only for his lovely wife.
At the end of the day, if you're both in the mood and not too tired, he makes love to you while holding your hand, your wedding ring glinting in the moonlight, a pillow placed under your hips so you'd feel more comfortable and he'd be able to hit that sweet spot inside you that makes those beautiful moans which he adores tumble through your lips. He praises you throughout the whole session, soft I love you's falling from his lips and calls you "my wife" and "Mrs. Riley" while slowly rolling his hips into yours.
He always cums inside. You love the feel of his thick warm cum inside your womb, and the thought of carrying his child makes you go absolutely feral. He'd love to have a family with you, the image of your belly swollen with his child stuck in his mind as his thrusts get harsher and more erratic, grunting out how he's gonna breed you. Your pussy flutters and tightly clenches down on him as the words leave his mouth.
After you announce your pregnancy, he’s glued to your side. And more handsy. He's always got a hand on the small of your back, your belly, randomly kissing your temple and forehead. He's just so happy to have you. And now you’re having a child?! He's over the moon! He's always by your side when you need him, rubbing your back and holding your hair out of the way when morning sickness kicks in, holding you in his arms when you cry, reassuring you and softly cooing praises into your ear if you’re nervous about giving birth and being a good parent. 
If you still go to work while pregnant, he’s got everything ready for you at home. All the housework is done, your favorite food is ready on the table, bath is also ready with your favorite oils and bath salts. You won’t lift a finger at home. Not on his watch. When you walk through the door, exhausted and body aching, he’s there to carry you to bed for a massage. He'll rub the sore muscles of your feet and gently massage your swollen tummy. If he feels a kick, he’ll grin so wide and rub your belly to feel it again, but he stops if you wince in pain, mumbling “sorry” and kissing you so sweetly. He'll give you a bath, delicately washing your tired body, his hand resting on your belly and placing soft kisses on your lips in between your rants about work and what a tough day you had. He watches you with so much love and adoration evident in his gorgeous eyes while you talk, admiring you. He's just so happy to have a little family of his own :) 
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comments/reblogs are greatly appreciated ♥ 
divider by @saradika-graphics
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inkdrinkerworld · 14 days
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hi!! i saw your requests were open but i was wondering if you’d do a high maintenance reader w any of the marauders?? i just realized that i got my hair done, my eyelashes done, my nails done, and a facial all within a week and now im crying because i can’t afford my lifestyle, and also because i didn’t realize i was considered high maintenance until now :/
“We’re not having this conversation again, angel.” James says as he holds your hand on the walk back to the car.
You frown, catching a glimpse at your nails and smiling before frowning again. “But Jamie, it’s every month!”
He opens the back door for you, letting you slide in before he gets in himself.
Remus is driving while Sirius sits in the passenger seat, hair held back a bun that’s not very effective but makes him all the more handsome.
“It’s not a problem, sweet girl.” James steals a kiss. “We don’t mind.” Remus catches a glimpse at you in the rear view mirror.
“What’s wrong dove?” You pout, not really upset with them but upset at what you realized halfway through your nail appointment.
“All three of you always pay for my things,” All the boys frown, they don’t see the issue. You sigh, your fists banging on your exposed knees under your skirt.
“Every time I have an appointment, one of you comes just to pay. Doesn’t that make you feel gross? Like you’re just here to maintain me?”
Sirius turns to face you first. He’s not the best with words, but he’s always able to get to you faster than the other boys.
“Why would we feel gross about taking care of you? You’re not a thing to maintain and even if we do pay for your things it doesn’t mean it’s a burden.”
Remus nods at Sirius’ words, “We don’t come just to pay either. We like seeing you get all dolled up, lovely girl. It’s a treat for us as much as it is for you.”
You roll your eyes, disbelieving, “Just this week, I’ve done my hair, had a facial, got waxed and did my nails and you all paid for something.”
Remus nods, driving effortlessly while holding your eyes in the rear view. “We like taking care of you dove. You never ask for us to do it, we just do because it makes us feel good.”
James nods, lips to your temple. “It does. So what if you go do a million procedures a month? Just as long as we get to finance it.”
You sigh long and hard, “But it’s so much.”
Remus shakes his head, voice soothing even as he maneuvers the car through traffic, “Baby, we all argue about who gets to pay for what. It’s not too much for us, we want to keep doing it.”
Sirius cuts you a hard look from the passenger side when he catches your eye roll, “Poppet,” he leans around the seat to look you in the eyes. “We like maintaining you. We like spending our money on you when you want to do something, that’s not an issue to us, got it?”
James speaks softly when you don’t answer, “S’like Remus said, angel. No sense in making yourself feel bad for something we’d practically fight each other to do, yeah?”
You nod, a little bashful under his gaze and when he beckons you forward with his chin, you nearly scramble across the middle seat to kiss him.
Sirius’ hands tangle in your hair and you pull away, “I just got it done yesterday, Siri.” He smiles, all wicked and best pleased.
“And you look all the more gorgeous.” He steals another kiss just as Remus pulls up to your brunch destination. “Now c’mon, we’ve got to show you off after all this.”
Remus turns your face before you get too far, stealing a couple kisses for himself. “No more worrying about us taking care of you, yeah?”
You’re dazed and kisses silly, “Yeah, Remmy.” James gets his kisses last and you have to wait ten minutes in the backseat before getting out with any of them while you hide a smile.
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theemporium · 9 months
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technically the first proper introduction into the charles and blitz world despite how much we talk about them!!
series masterlist
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“If you die, can I get your Pista?”
Charles lifted his head, shooting you an unimpressed look. 
“What? I just thought we should cover all bases,” you defended, knocking your shoulder against his. 
You knew exactly what was going through his head. You knew he was overthinking the whole thing, making up the worst assumptions and how it could affect the time he would have to take off training. You knew he was working himself up like he tended to do, falling silent and allowing his only company to be himself.
It was the exact reason you insisted on coming with him.
“And out of everything I own, you want my car?” Charles questioned, his eyebrows raised. 
“Yeah well, you treat that thing like your baby—minus the parking skills,” you said with an innocent smile spread across your face. “Surely that makes me a step-mother or some sort of parental figure.”
“The way your brain works amazes me every day,” he murmured with a shake of his head.
“You love me,” you sang, nudging his shoulder once again and, this time, he lifted his arm to wrap it around your shoulder. 
“Unfortunately, I do. Even when you’ve started planning for my death before I go into surgery,” he mused, but you could hear the underlying hint of fear. The one he didn’t really want to admit, but the one that you saw as clear as day anyways.
“Everything is gonna be fine,” you reassured him and lightly squeezed his knee. “Who else am I gonna look down on the top step of the podium if not you?” 
He rolled his eyes. “It is truly a miracle I love you.”
“I’m the best thing in your life and you know it, Leclerc,” you countered, poking his side. 
Charles’ face softened. “Yeah, you are.” 
“Charles Leclerc!” 
He turned to look at the nurse who was waiting for him by the doors, a kind and welcoming smile on her face. You watched the way his face dropped a little, the way his body tensed against yours and you squeezed his knee again. 
“You’re coming back to me, Charlie. It’ll be fine.”
“Tu es si jolie, mon amour.”
*You are so pretty, my love.
“English, Charlie. My French is lacklustre at best.”
“Tu es l’amour de ma vie!” 
*You are the love of my life!
You sighed deeply, taking a glance at the boy in the passenger seat of the car. He had a lovesick smile on his face, his cheeks flushed pink and a little bit of drool on the edge of his mouth. He looked adorable—and fucking hilarious if the pictures you sent to his brothers were anything.
However, since the second he had woken up from the procedure, Charles seemed adamant on only rambling your ear off in French. No Italian or English to be heard. Just French. Just the one damn language that you were hopeless in, despite the many years you knew the Monegasque.
“J’ai hâte de t’épouser,” he sighed dreamily as he stared at you with an expression that made your chest tighten.
*I can’t wait to marry you
“I don’t know what you said but me too, buddy,” you said as you reached over to softly pat his thigh. 
However, the boy was one step ahead of you and quickly grabbed your hand to intertwine with his own.
“Regarder!” He giggled, holding your joined hands up proudly. “Nous sommes connectés pour toujours maintenant!” 
*Look! We are connected forever now!
“You’re so lucky you’re cute,” you commented, fighting the odd urge to bite back a smile even when you had no understanding of what he said. “I might need to call your mother if you keep up this whole French act.”
“Oui, appelle-la! C’est aussi ta famille, mon amour!” Charles nodded.
*Yes, call her! She is your family too, my love!
“You know, these embarrassing videos don’t work if even I don’t understand them,” you added, shooting him a look but he just smiled back at you, and you couldn’t really be mad at that.
.
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logansdoll · 2 months
Text
ivy, l. howlett (4)
landing on Ellis Island, it was finally time for you to show off what you could do
CW: canon typical violence, gore, guns, mutation, profanity, innuendos, mature themes, mentions of sex, y/n is very poison ivy-esque, jean grey exists but is not present, etc.
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After figuring out Magneto and his gang were headed for Ellis Island, the four of you loaded into the Blackbird on a covert mission to stop him.
So after disembarking on the faraway side of the island, and deducing that the machine was hidden in the torch, you all stormed inside in an attempt to get you to the top.
Which meant passing through the museum.
Though it wasn't long before Logan caused a ruckus.
The moment he walked through the metal detectors, an alarm began to blare, forcing everyone to freeze.
Quickly, he drew his claws, stabbing the sensor until the alarm shut off, before turning to the rest of you.
Scott flashed him a cocky smirk, but Logan just flipped him off.
Rolling your eyes, you continued on, dipping in your belt pouches and sprinkling seeds along the carpet walkway, keeping your eyes peeled.
Though Logan was thoroughly confused.
"What's that?" he asked, brow raised as he walked up next to you.
"Our backup," you answered with a knowing grin, pressing ahead to spread some more.
And, as much as he willed them not to, his eyes traveled down your back, all the way to your leather clad ass.
He was only a man, and he had to say it looked absolutely fantastic, perfectly fit for your figure and moving so tantalizingly.
Trust, if you gave him a chance, he'd rock your—
A sharp jab to his side snapped him out of his reverie, its source being a particularly displeased woman with hair whiter than winter snow.
"You're drooling," she raised a brow, almost scolding.
She didn't need the professor to know what the man was thinking, and all that could be saved for after they rescued Rogue.
Before he could respond, he caught a whiff of something.
"There's someone here," he sniffed, brows furrowed.
"Where?" Scott asked.
"I don't know.... Keep your eye open."
"Logan."
But the man paid no mind, power-walking ahead and around the column in search of the source.
Though when he came back around, there was something different about him.
Something odd.
"I know there's someone here. I just can't see 'em."
He stalked toward Scott, his claws suddenly sprouting.
'The hell...'
Suddenly, another Logan tackled the other, the two tumbling into a maintenence room.
'Okay, what the actual hell...'
You three quickly followed, Scott unsure of which one to shoot as they stood off.
"Wait!" the both shouted in unison, their voices the same.
But one suddenly slashed the chain holding the door, slamming it shut right before your eyes.
"All right, back up," Scott ordered, holding the side of his goggles.
But before he could shoot it open, a familiar frog man suddenly swung over, knocking him into another room and kicking you and Ororo to the ground.
 Using his tongue, he slammed the door to Scott shut before wrapping it around your ankle and tossing you onto a higher level, sending you crashing into a display case.
'Bastard...'
But before you could even recover, he was already scaling the wall, having stuck some sort of adhesive saliva on Ororo's mouth to distract her.
Quickly, you pulled yourself up, but his tongue smacked you right back down, before grabbing your waist and tossing you into a nearby elevator shaft.
You hit the bottom with a sickening thud, hitting your head right on the concrete and splattering blood all over the floor.
That was the last straw.
Jaw locked tight with anger, you pushed yourself off the ground, fixing your neck with a disgusting crack as small as thin vines of ivy grew around your wound, quickly closing it.
"He's done."
Taking all of your pouches off your belt, you opened them up and flipped them upside down, dumping every seed in your arsenal on the ground.
And with a flick of your hand, they all shot up into the air, carrying you along with it.
When you reached the top of the shaft, your vines began to grow all over the place, two large ones completely ripping the doors open.
Toad's eyes narrowed, confused to see a gigantic lotus flower before him.
Until it bloomed, you emerging from its receptacle.
"Don't you people ever die?" he shouted, annoyed, as the stormed over.
Big mistake.
Instantly, a vine coiled around his body, tightening as you were carried toward him.
Your plants grew without control, overtaking everything on the upper levels and even encroaching on the lower.
Though you still approached the balcony with your new friend.
"Woah, woah, woah, slow your roll, love," he began to panic, jolting with fear as even larger vines burst through the windows, the flora following you outside. 
The reality of his situation was finally sinking in.
"You can't kill me! That old man o' yours don't allow it!"
You stared at him, eyes cold and dead serious as a humongous Venus Flytrap grew at your side.
"Who said I was going to kill you?"
Terrified, his eyes turned to saucers, especially when it began to move closer.
Without hesitation, the vine binding him shifted its grip, tossing him into her jaws, which she snapped shut the moment he landed.
Of course, you really couldn't kill him, so you'd already given her precise instruction.
"You know what to do," you nodded to her, "Don't go too deep."
She gave you a wiggle of confirmation, before quickly growing toward the harbor, submerging herself and Toad underwater.
With that taken care of, your plants returned you indoors, bringing you toward the banister of the upper floor to look over, where the others seemed to be regrouping.
"You guys all right?" you asked as you descended.
Turning to you, Logan's eyes widened, surprised and quite fascinated.
He knew you could control plants, but he didn't think you'd have the whole damn jungle following you.
"She wasn't kidding..." he nodded, intrigued.
For Christ's sake, you were sitting in a huge flower like some woodland fairy.
"I took care of the toad guy," you reported, stepping out Lottie—the lotus.
"The shapeshifter's handled, too," Logan nodded, focusing back on the matter at hand.
"Prove it," Scott raised a brow, resting his fingers at the side of his goggles, ready to blast.
"You're a dick."
...
"Okay."
You rolled your eyes, turning toward the roof.
"If you ladies are done... there's a girl that needs saving."
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Once you all finally made it to Lady Liberty's head, you looked around, only to find that the machine was already powering up within the flame of the torch.
"Everybody, get out of here," Logan stated, seriously.
"What is it?" Ororo asked.
"I can't move."
Suddenly, something shoved him up against the wall, pieces of metal flying from all directions to pin each and every one of you.
You, in particular, getting stuck in front of Scott.
And, of course, the man himself descending from a hole he made in the statue's head.
"Ah, my brothers. Welcome," Magneto smiled, turning to Logan, "Let's point those claws of yours in a safer direction."
Using his power, he forced Logan's fists to point toward his chest, bending some scrap metal to keep them there.
"And you," he turned to Scott, Sabretooth removing his goggles. "You'd better close your eyes."
"Storm, fry him," Scott ordered, his eyes screwed shut to keep from hurting you.
"Oh, yes. A bolt of lightening into a huge, copper conductor," Magneto agreed, sarcastically. "I thought you lived at a school."
"I've seen Senator Kelly," you blurted, hoping to divert his attention.
"So the good senator survived his fall and the swim to shore," he smiled, walking up to you. "He's become even more powerful than I could have imagined."
"He's dead," you corrected. "I saw him die. Like those people down there will die."
Knowingly, he leaned in closer.
"Are you sure that's what you saw?"
You scoffed, not even surprised by his indifference.
He didn't give two shits whether those people down there lived or died.
And he could see the realization all over your face.
"Why do none of you understand what I'm trying to do?" Magneto groaned, "Those people down there control our fate and the fate of every other mutant... Well, soon our fate will be theirs."
"Help!" Rogue cried, her voice muffled but not far away. "Please help me!"
"You're so full of shit," Logan glared, pissed. "If you were really so righteous, it'd be you in that thing."
"Help! Somebody help me!"
Magneto ignored the comment, instead floating up in the air to commence the process, leaving the rest of you to wait for the inevitable.
Although Logan didn't.
Suddenly, he let out a roar of fury, impaling himself with his own claws.
"Logan!" you exclaimed, eyes wide.
You knew he could heal, but that didn't mean it hurt any less.
But his doing so destroyed his binds, dropping him to the floor.
And he played dead for a moment, waiting until Sabretooth got close enough to lift him up, before stabbing him in the gut.
Sabretooth yowled with pain, tossing Logan through the hole and out on Lady Liberty's head to fight.
Which left you to finding some sort of way to escape.
Frantically, you used your power to call out to any sort of flora you could, cursing yourself when you couldn't find anything.
That is... until you felt a tiny wiggle from the corner.
'No way...'
You thanked practically every God in heaven that some contract worker was eating David seeds on the job, because there laid a perfectly intact sunflower seed on the ground.
Quickly, you grew it larger than the average sunflower,
Sabretooth dropped back in, eyes locked on you as he slowly approached.
He caressed his gnarled claw over your cheek, staring at you intently.
"You owe me a scream."
But before he could do anything, Logan dropped down right behind him.
"Hey, bub. I'm not finished with you yet," he growled, eyes flicking to you. "(y/n)."
"Scott, when I tell you, open your eyes," you instructed.
"No!"
"Trust me."
"You dropped something," Logan smirked, tossing you Scott's goggles.
Quickly, the sunflower caught them, angling them in front of your face just right.
"Now!"
Scott opened his eyes, the beams diverted toward Sabretooth, who was blasted clear into New York harbor.
'Oh, thank, God...'
You had no idea that was going to work.
"Thanks," Scott nodded as Logan cut him down, the large leaves of the sunflower pulling you free.
"Don't mention it," Logan assured, breaking Ororo free before turning toward the torch. "We gotta get her out of there."
"Scott, can you hit it?" you asked.
He attempted to aim, but it was no use.
"The rings are moving too fast," he denied.
"Just shoot it!" Logan exclaimed.
"I'll kill her!" Scott held firm, turning to Ororo. "Storm, can you get me up there?"
"I can't control it like that. You'd fly right over the torch."
"(y/n)?"
"Not in my range."
"Then let me do it," Logan stated, turning to Scott. "If I don't make it, then at least you can still blast the damn thing."
'Shit...'
Your weren't for this plan, but it seemed like you had no choice.
"I can get you up there," you sighed, growing Susana—the sunflower—slightly larger, until she was big enough to be stood on. "But she's small. So once you get there you're on your own."
He confirmed with a nod, his eyes looking at you with something almost indecipherable before stepping onto the flower.
Quickly, you grew her stem toward the machine, going higher and higher until he was close enough to jump on top of it.
And once he did, you returned her back to her normal state, thanking her gratefully for all her hard work before turning your attention to the sky.
Where Magneto was stopping Logan from destroying the machine.
"I have a clear shot," Scott reported, powering up his beam. "I'm taking it."
"Hurry!" Ororo rushed, the wave of blinding, white radiation already close to and nearly reaching the delegates of the summit.
With a quick, precise shot, Scott knocked him away, freeing Logan and allowing him to slash the controls, instantly dissipating the radiation.
Sighing with relief, you finally allowed your shoulders to sink, running a tired hand through your hair.
He did it.
The X-men had won the day.
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