#[ they call you angel and devil in the same breath

[pretty-little-mind33]

Pietro Maximoff x mutant fem!reader

Summary: You hate Pietro for how he treats you, or at least you do until you're stuck in an elevator with him.

Genre: hurt and comfort, enemies to lovers (only they aren't "enemies") <3

Warnings: Pietro is a dick in the beginning, panic attacks, claustrophobia, swearing, i use Czech to represent Sokovian (probably shitty translation)

~ thank you for requesting @princesssunderworld! loved this prompt sm! i wrote this for Pietro because we need more Pietro content asap and i have so many wips for Tangerine already! I hope you like this! ~

PIETRO MAXIMOFF MASTERLIST

Pietro Maximoff is quite possibly your worst nightmare. 

While he does have the face of an angel, all doe-eyed and charming smile, he somehow manages to make your life a living hell. He's like some beautiful, insufferable, devil that constantly insists on sitting promptly on your shoulder. 

Mostly, he spends his days finding any excuse to either argue with you or undermine you. During training, he constantly makes snarky comments on your form and purposefully speeds by you to knock you on your ass. He'll always wear the same smirk when you chew him out, almost like he's amused and you despise it.

You hate him. 

And most of all, you hate how it makes you feel. How he makes your cheeks feel warmer and that unfamiliar feeling bubble in your stomach. 

Wanda tries to convince you he has a school-boy crush on you—like some little boy who likes pulling little girls' hair on the playground. You don't want to hear it. He's a grown man now, not a boy anymore. If he has a crush, he should deal with it like an adult. 

One afternoon, Pietro had just pulled one of his so-called pranks on you, causing you to walk under a bucket of cold water and successfully drenching you and rendering the flames that usually spark from your hands from your anger into smoke.

The Avengers in the room training grow silent as Pietro, sitting on the weightlifting bench, bursts into laughter. 

"Pietro!" Wanda shrieks, immediately rushing to you from where she'd been talking to Vision but you shake your head, frustrated tears threatening to brim in your eyes.

You send Pietro a glare and storm out of the room, shaking your wet sleeves. 

You're too busy mumbling curses under your breath to hear Wanda shout at her twin brother as you furiously press the elevator button. When the doors opens you do hear his voice, however, "Y/n! Princezna (Princess)!" 

You rush into the elevator and spin around, pressing the close button as fast as you can but obviously, Pietro is much faster.

He reaches you before the doors close, almost slamming into you as his body vibrates from the aftermath of his powers. His hand comes up behind your head instinctively so you don't hit your head against the wall and he glances down at you, his blue eyes piercing into yours. 

You push him away just as the elevator wobbles and the sound of something snapping is heard. Pietro's speed must have somehow messed up the elevator system because the elevator starts to fall. 

You gasp, reaching for the only other person in the elevator,  and Pietro is by your side in an instant, crouching you both into one corner, his arms tightening around your waist as the elevator falls three stories and then halts with a loud screech.

Your mutation sometimes manifests when you're stressed, so you barely even register that you've set a part of Pietro's sleeve on fire from where you're clutching his arm until the sprinkler in the elevator turns on, soaking you both. 

"Hey, miláček (darling)," Pietro holds one of your cheeks in his hand, his voice uncharacteristically soft as he sees the white cloud in your eyes disappear and you blink. "You're okay." You're breathing heavily now, staring at him until you snap and push him away, curling your arms around your knees.

You look at the elevator panel only to see it's broken. Pietro is trying his hardest to pry the doors open, but even with his speed, they remain shut.

"Fuck Tony Stark," Pietro groans and slumps to the ground in front of you, running a hand in his silver hair as he sends you a lopsided grin. "You okay, princezna (princess)?" 

You glare at him. 

Pietro lifts his arms in surrender. 

You check your watch. The team should realize something went wrong and rescue you at any moment. You'll be fine, you try reminding yourself but the walls seem to be pressing in faster and faster. You feel dizzy as tears blur your vision and you haven't realized that you've started hyperventilating until Pietro touches your arm. 

You gasp again and look up at him, frightened. His expression softens as he kneels in front of you, looking you over. He looks concerned, which is a first.

"I- I can't breathe," you manage to croak out, your voice strained. As much as you don't want to turn to Pietro for help, you need him. 

Pietro nods, understanding your panic now. He soothes you and holds out his palm. "Breathe. It's okay. You're safe," he says and shakes his palm a little. He wants you to hold his hand. 

You sniffle, still having trouble breathing correctly as your fingers stroke against Pietro's palm and he smiles. His skin is warm and the shock centers you for a moment.

"There. I'm right here, miláček (darling)," he pauses and his hand vibrates a little, controlling his powers just enough so that he can show you he's here. 

The sensation elicits a laugh from you as you look up at him, matching the breathing he's showing you. Pietro's smile widens, his heart only half-breaking from the tears brimming in your eyes and he resists the urge to wipe your cheeks. 

"Shhh, there you go. Breathe. Dýchej, anděli, dýchej (Breathe, angel, breathe)."

Minutes later, Wanda is fussing over you as you sit in the lounge room after Tony rescued you and Pietro. She wraps a towel around your shoulders.

"Are you okay?" She keeps repeating as she ignores her equally wrecked-looking brother standing in the corner as Clint and Steve talk to him. You nod, eyes round from the entire ordeal. 

"Did he make it worse? Because I'll kill him—"

You shake your head, glancing at Pietro. Your cheeks burn hot when you catch his gaze and you snap your head back to Wanda, who just looks confused. 

"No– he helped me," you whisper, watching realization sparkle in her eyes. 

Still, she doesn't say anything.  

* * *

Pietro isn't awful to you anymore. He's the opposite. 

He's sweet. 

You find the shift weird so you avoid him. You avoid him until you physically can't anymore because he's blocking the door to the kitchen as you stand in the refrigerator light, a spoon stuck in your ice cream tub.

Your eyes widen as you look at him. He's wearing his pajamas as they hang just under his v-line, his hair a mess as he yawns. 

"What are you doing up, princezna (princess)?" he asks and walks over, grabbing another spoon and leaning against the counter, and shakes the spoon for you to share the ice cream. You hand him the tub, staring at him intensely.

"What?" Pietro smirks, his mouth full as he winces. "Sakra, je zima (Damn, it's cold)." 

"Thank you," you blurt out. You're a week late but you don't care.

Pietro raises an eyebrow. "For?"

"Helping me in the elevator. It meant a lot," you say, shifting nervously.

Pietro's smile softens and he sets the ice cream down, licking his lips. He walks over, cornering you into the counter but you don't feel threatened. You feel safe. He lifts his hand and hesitates at your cheek.

"Y'know, I'd be quite an asshole to let you suffer like that," he says in a whisper, his Sokovian accent thick as he chuckles. His fingers touch your skin and you shiver, your eyes widening. 

"Didn't stop you before," you mutter.

Pietro frowns. 

"Listen, anděl (angel), I know I haven't been the nicest to you but it's all been in good fun—it's nothing serious," he looks away a moment, searching for his words as he pauses. "I never meant to ever truly hurt you. I- I like you, Y/n. I just didn't know how to tell you so the teasing was easier for me."

You tilt your head, taking in his words. "What was your plan then, Pietro? Make me dislike you so somehow I'd turn around and like you after? That doesn't make any fucking sense. You could have just been sweet like you're being now!"

Pietro looks at you again, his arms caging you in now as his hands flex around the counter. "My feelings for you make no fucking sense," he argues, his eyes locked on yours. "I hate them. I hate how they make me act like a fool when all I want to do is kiss you and hold you close. Vše, co chci, je milovat tě (All I want to do is love you)."

You never wanted to admit it but you love it when he speaks Sokovian and you calm your breathing as your eyes shut. Pietro leans in, his breath ghosting yours. "One word. Say the word and I'll stop. I'll stop everything. I'll leave you alone."

You open your mouth, your eyes following, and you whisper. "Kiss me."

Pietro wastes no time in kissing you, claiming your lips as his own as his hand tightens around your waist. He's pulling you in closer, your body warms so hard as your hands find his cheeks that you're afraid you'll burn him and you try pulling away from him. 

"You won't hurt me," Pietro whispers through his kisses as he refuses to let you go. "I can take it."

You gasp into his mouth as your hands find his hair, pulling on the strands. This feels so unfamiliar and yet, you've never kissed anyone like this. 

Finally, Pietro pulls away and he leans his head on your warm forehead as you catch your breath. 

"Wanda mi dluží dvacet babek (Wanda owes me twenty bucks)," he whispers, mostly to himself as a lovesick smile graces his features. "Moje. Jsi můj. (Mine. You're mine)."

"What are you saying?" you ask, looking into his icy blue eyes you once 'hated' so much.

Pietro smiles and kisses your lips. He doesn't tell you what he means or how he feels. 

Not yet. 

tags: @kravensgirl, @brokeaesthetic, @sayitlikethecheese, @lqrlei

[bones4thecats]

Whoops! I forgot to add an emoji, sorry!

I'm the anon who made the Record of Ragnarok request regarding a goddess of fortune and luck s/o. I'd like to be called 🐢 anon, please.

RoR w/ Goddess of Fortune + Luck! S/O

Characters: Poseidon, Qin Shi Huang, and Hades Requester: 🐢Anon A/N: This was a nice thing to write, each of them have their own story, which basically never happens anymore, lol. Anyways, hope you like this! And have a sparkling rest of your days/nights! ⚠️ Spoilers/Trigger Warnings for: Mentions of death, insinuated assault, SWEARING in Poseidon's part, murder, blood, and slight description of death (tiny gore warning) ⚠️

Disclaimer: The Reader is a FEMALE and based on Yaoshi (HSR)

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Poseidon ══════════════════════════════╝

🔱 You were his beauty to his beast. While that might not be physical on his behalf, his emotionless and cold demeanor made everyone, including his own family, believe him to be a devil in an angel's skin

🔱 On average, you would visit your believers in your temple, waving each ahead before gifting them with luck and a small fortune every time. But, as your reputation grew, so did your follower's egos

🔱 Poseidon was pissed when he found out one of your long-time followers had a son whom was trying to get into your pants so you would gift him with an unbelievable fortune and unbelieving amounts of luck just for being 'yours'

🔱 He decided to visit your temple one day, stabbing his trident into the stone flooring as he walked, alerting all that surrounded the area, and making them bow in respect to the God of the Sea. Poseidon just scoffed and kept walking, not giving any human any glance, they, in his eyes, did not deserve a perfect being like himself's attention

🔱 As he strode through, he found Aphrodite and Heracles outside of your temple, watching over the many children in the surrounding garden. They smiled as they caught Poseidon walking, as he just asked for your location

"Y/N went to her chambers with this guy... I think he said his name was... Dolion?"

"Yes, that was his name Heracles. They've been gone for about 10 minutes, I was about to send Heracles to check on them, but since you're here!"

🔱 Poseidon nodded and walked to your chambers, his trident making the same clack noise as he heard a man yelling at someone, which made your husband furrow his brows slightly as he listened in

"Get out of here, Dolion."

"Oh go fuck yourself, you whore! Just manipulating my emotions like that?! Making me feel such a strong connection just for you to take it away because you're married to that bastard, Poseidon?! How could you?!"

"Dolion. I will not tell you again. Get the fuck out."

"Don't tell me you never felt the connection with me, Goddess of Fortune and Luck? Come on, Y/N."

"You have no right to call me by that name. Do not make me kill you where you stand."

🔱 The sound of you screaming made Poseidon burst in the room, his trident pushing against the male's neck as you fell to the ground, your long hair pooling around your small frame on the ground

"You have five second to apologize, worm."

"Who the fuck are you?!"

"Five."

"Seriously, man! Who are you?!"

"Four."

"Oh for the love of Olympus. Answer me!"

"One."

🔱 You closed your eyes as Poseidon stabbed the man's neck, plunging his trident's three tips into the stone wall and causing blood to begin drip down the body of the now-deceased young male

🔱 Standing up and listening to your chain-wrapped foot hit the ground as you hugged Poseidon from behind, your grip tightening around his stomach, making him look back at you and breath out, providing your ears with the familiar echo of his breathing. He then grabbed your arm and wrapped his own around your midsection, keeping you in a protective grasp

"Thank you, 'Seidon."

"Hmm."

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Qin Shi Huang ═══════════════════════════╝

👑 Qin Shi Huang knew that you and him being in a relationship was bound to start some kind of controversy within the Einherjar, as they distrusted pretty much any God they came across. Yep, that means they distrusted Buddha for quite a while

👑 You merely sat up with the rest of the fighters as Qin fought, and you smiled gently as Hades walked in, causing Leonidas to look at you with narrowed eyes

"What are you smiling at, Goddess?"

👑 Chuckling at his animosity, you reached outwards, pointing towards the tall, white-haired God of the Dead before speaking up again

"That man caused many issues between me and my old human friend, Tamaki. Honestly, seeing such an enemy fight against my husband is a fight I cannot tear my eyes from for a second."

👑 Kojiro smiled as you spoke, looking back down at the Emperor. He then looked at you and asked you how you had met the royal and gotten into a relationship, after all, being a Goddess of such a high-caliber in the Shinto Pantheon must have been hard to deal with a human

"It's quite the detailed story. But if you wish to know so badly, Sasaki, I shall tell you the shortened version."

👑 The others adjusted their positions to listen to you, curiosity spread through their tough and chiseled forms as you began to speak, recanting your love story with your husband

"One night, I had decided to take a walk through a garden, but this garden was owned by the Emperor's family. It was there that I noticed a young man walking around, a blindfold over his eyes, much to my confusion at the time. I walked to the man and asked him if he could see and needed assistance, the man, whom I later learned to be Qin Shi Huang, had merely waved me off with a smile before asking if I needed help since he never saw me around the building."

"Wait- he can see through that thing?" Buddha asked.

"Correct, Buddha. But, after I left, I had given him a peony and a orchid. The peony, in Chinese culture, stands for good fortune, while the orchid stands for wealth and fortune. I began to come by nearly weekly, which allowed us to grow closely before he proposed and we married. I revealed my identity as a divine being a mere few days before he proposed, so imagine my shock when he asked for my hand in marriage!"

👑 The others chuckled as you finished your story, allowing you to look back down as your husband readied his form for the fight. You allowed a single tear to fall down from your eye, but before it hit the ground, you picked it up and tossed it onto the ground, making a four-leaf clover pop up from the flooring. Grabbing it, you blew it to your husband, in your own, silent way to wish him luck in the battle for Humanity's safety

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Hades ════════════════════════════════╝

💀 As you pat the young deity's head, your husband watched from a distance. You had been bonding with Zeus' family a lot more after the birth of Ares, his youngest brother's oldest son, and after Hermes' birth, you had just doubled down on your Auntie-responsibilities, even as the two aged

💀 Hades smiled as you looked at the middle of Zeus' boys, using your magic to tie tiny golden fabric-strands onto his body, around the arm like a bow for Hermes, he lightly adjusted it to his style while you smiled and pat his head lightly

💀 Laughing as you saw Ares began to mess around with his father, Zeus, as he tried making a speech as if he was going to lead another army to battle, you gave one of the most beautiful smiles in Olympus

💀 Hermes then told you he needed to go visit with his mother, you nodded and allowed him to go speak to Hera. You then clasped your hands in front of your hips and walked towards your husband, stopping by his side and laying your head on his shoulder

"Good afternoon, my love."

"Good afternoon, my King of the Netherworld."

💀 Chuckling and laying his head on your own, Hades smiled gently. He could feel your welcoming and warm aura pulse through his own cold and noble one, and it was a feeling he didn't want to let go of anytime soon

"Aunt Y/N, Uncle Hades! It's good to see you both!" A voice rung out, snapping both you and Hades out of your peaceful moment.

💀 Looking back up, you saw two of your three nephews. Heracles and Ares walked up and shook their Uncle's hand while they hugged you delicately, making sure they didn't accidentally damage any of the golden accessories that dawned your figure

"It's good to see you both as well. How has training been?" Hades asked.

"Alright. Dad almost destroyed the arena last week, though." Ares answered while Heracles nodded with a tired expression.

"Well that sounds like fun, calming your father down and all." You teased, making the three guys smile and chuckle at the thought of Zeus acting like a child in need of discipline from his parents.

"Y/N!" Aphrodite yelled out, waving you over to her and her nymphs.

💀 You peered back at your husband, who just nodded and kissed your forehead, allowing you to walk over to your old friend. Aphrodite was excited about something, and he knew you were naturally a curious being

"You really love her, don't you, Uncle?" Heracles asked.

"That I do. That I do..."

[livelaughlovesubs]

I need more Boothill... Maybe just taking orgasm after orgasm after orgasm... Mommy kink even...?

WAIT HUUUH?? BAE, YOU ARE REQUESTING SMT FROM ME? I’m fucking honoured I could cry also you are a switch? >:0

Anyway, hope this is to your liking <3

Dom!reader x sub!Boothill

Warning: mommy kink (boothill calls reader mommy), handjob, dacryphilia, praise kink, soft dom

His once cold metal arms were wrapped around your neck, holding onto you as tightly as he could. Legs spread as far as he can while he squeezed his eyes shut, unable to handle the overstimulation your touch brought him. “Too.. too much~” The male groaned into your neck, his hot breath tickling your skin. All you did in response was coo at him, whispering gently, “you are doing great, my love.” Each time your hand pumped up and down his sticky length, he could feel his body overheating and going feral. As if all of his systems shortcut, he felt how his limps went weak, at this rate he can barely hold on to you any longer.

Your hand was all dirty with the lube as well, smiling at him as you continued the same movements you’ve been repeating for the last hour. Up, down, up and down… just like that, a steady rhythm that made his mind go blank. You adored this man with all your heart, the only thing you want for him is eternal happiness and satisfaction. In your opinion, it was a blessing that you can make him feel good like this, make him whimper and cling onto you. “So good and so pretty for me, my baby.” A soft chuckle left your lips, eyes filled with adoration scanning over his mechanical body. He really was beautiful, every side of him, from his adorable personality to his looks. You swore to yourself that you’d always love him, his past, and his future. A future where you hope to be in the picture as well.

That lovely gaze of yours didn’t escape his sharp senses, those very loving eyes were what caused boothill to fall for you. He found comfort in them, solace and peace. It was indescribable. The moment you look at him with such tenderness he haven’t felt since centuries, he crumbles like sand with water. Somehow, you were able to make his nonexistent heart beat, causing him to year for you. All he could do was thank the aeons for granting him this comfort, since you reciprocated his feelings he tried so hard to suppress. “S-stop it with those uHhm~ dadgem compliments…” The cyborg scoffed, biting his bottom lip to keep his moans in check.

“But you deserve them, sweetie, and it’s only the truth. It’s what I think about you.” You mumbled against his head, using your free hand to stroke his long hair. “I really adore you.” You added after seeing his ears redden. Sometimes he thinks you are an angel, because of how nice you are, yet other times you were straight up the devil’s incarnation. Whenever you’d tease him until he’s whimpering and humiliated, that is. “Still.. stop it.” Boothill insisted, he felt way too embarrassed and aroused by just some praises that it was hurting his ego. His hands were bawled into fists behind your neck, sometimes when it got especially intense he’d also scratch your back.

Instead of nodding along, you just smiled again, picking up your pace on his length. His body has been warmed up by your body heat at this point, that’s how long you two have been going at it. How many times has he cum now? Since there are no physical signs of him reaching his orgasm, you could only guess from his other body languages. If you guessed rightly, it’d be three times already. When you suddenly started going faster, the cowboy cried out, pressing his face further into the nook of your neck as he begged incoherently, “please please please.., no-no more, mommy..” If it weren’t for his inability to, he would have cried from the excessive pleasure.

Poor boy was panting and gasping the entire time, mouth hung agape because he got no time to close with from all the moaning. The ecstasy was too much, way too much to handle, to the point even his fake thighs shook uncontrollably. How was it even possible for him to feel anything below his neck? He doesn’t know. He also didn’t know if this is a blessing or a curse since, fudge, you are driving him insane. “Hngghh… I can’t I can’t..! Ah, ahhH- mommy, please…” Boothill whined again, he was such a mess now, all due to you, only for you.

“Shh, it’s alright baby. I’m right here, mommy here with you.” You reassured him, kissing his forehead gently. The warmth of your lips was the last straw he needed to spill over the edge, eyes rolling back as a chocked out moan escaped his throat. “UghH- uhmmHg..!!” All of this was too much for him, he could feel new electricity crashing down on him in waves. Then a sudden sharp pain coursed through your body. His fingers dug into your back, crawling at your skin again, leaving behind new scratch marks. You bit his neck to bear the sensations, drawing out another pained groan from the boy, “ugh-nnNghhHH~..!”

After calming down a bit, you kissed his face. From his cheeks to his nose and lips, leaving behind little pecks for him to enjoy. “So good for me, my good boy.” You praised him again, ending with him turning his face to the side and avoiding you. What an adorable thing he was, of course you didn’t mind his bratty behaviour, instead you laughed before teasing him, “did you enjoy it? I mean, you even started calling me ‘mommy’.” Immediately the blush previously pestering his cheeks returned, and he yelled out a ‘fork you’. Once again you giggled, kissing the tip of his nose again, then saying, “aw, I thought it was very cute though.”

Never would he ever admit to have done something so.. embarrassing yet cute. Boothill thought this was finally over when you suddenly started rubbing his tip again, causing him to let out a squeak, “aghNhh..?!” You looked at him with expectant eyes, asking him, “what, you didn’t think I was done already, did you?” Right after you finished that sentence, you started jerking him off in the earnest again, and he moaned through gritted teeth, “nGHhhh~ fudge… please spare me, mommy~~ ♡”

[valentine-cafe]

˖⁺. ﹙ devil in angel's robes  x male demon reader. ﹚ .𖹭 ݁

. . . pretty demonic thing !! 🍒 :  angel ˖ admiral ˖ guardian angel﹙ verse 9948e rishen. ﹚

you are a demon who caught the interest of the golden angel of nadir who has just so happens to snatch you away from hell itself

to think. a demon of your stature. bound and held by a pigeon angel. a mere fledging.

you had underestimated the one they call scarlet saviour. with such a pretty face and eyes that sparkled more than the astral sea — how could you not?

the last thing you expected was to be defeated by him. see that damned serene smile. his tender hands. he'd dragged you to the nadir. you awaited trial. confrontation with the divine and yet. . .

all you are met with is a catacomb. one you would come to be very familiar with. turns out this marvelous place dwells beneath his citadel.

is he mad? locking a demon below his home?

the question is. . . why? you had asked yourself time and time again. the young angel would visit your form bound by chains ridden with magic he should not have. he has stood before you countless times. eyes that you would have expected mockery only held a bewildering softness.

he has caressed you before. felt you. cupped your large, warm face in his hands and tilted it further.

divine, is what he was. glowing. with shadows cast along his beautiful face.

you slowly catch on. is this morbid curiousity? it seems as such when during one of his visits, he sits himself over your knees. hands cupping your face all the same.

“what are you doing, my dearest angel?”

he smiles at your voice. leaning his body down and folding his wings behind him. a gleam in his eyes holds no light. but you shiver all the same.

“I grow enthralled by your beauty.”

“is that why you keep me here?”

“for study purposes.”

he promises. brown curls tickling your face as he tilts his head in the slightest. such a coy thing. your claws ache to dig into his soft flesh. yet whether to tear or to cling is a question for another day.

“study purposes? might I ask, oh angel of light?” the name even burns your tongue. yet it brings him to smile.

“matter of interest. I wish to see a demon’s. . . devotion.”

“my race know no devotion -”

and yet when his lips befall yours, you kiss back with an earnesty of a faithful follower. he reaches up to grip onto one of your horns. yanking your head at an angle that allows him control.

in turn your wrists jerk around the restraints. eager to grab. eager to hold. to claw. claim.

teeth clash. tongues twist. he forces his control onto you until you both part after a good taste of one another's saliva. only a string in your wake.

the bastard huffs a chuckle. pupils dilated and his own neat nails digging into either side of your jaw.

“my god,” he breathes. “you are fun to kiss.”

[atsulovee]

✧ ─ · · KINKTOBER DAY TWO !! · · ─ ✧

To Thee, My Eternal Love

Knife play - Vampire!Dazai x Fem!Reader ➻❥ content warnings: blood, threat of bodily harm and mutilation, implied kidnapping, slight yandere!dazai, period typical misogyny (early 1800s), mentioned abuse. ➻❥ word count: 2.2k ➻❥ notes: this one specifically made me glad i put a 3.5k cap on my word count for kinktober lol. i kept catching myself getting way too wordsy so i had to cut a lot of unneeded stuff.

"The red moon hung heavy in the sky, consuming and tearing every little star in its light. Your husband was slotted between your legs, one hand keeping you leg on his hip and the other pointing the silver dagger at your esophagus. Like the old renaissance paintings of the devil, Dazai was handsome."

“To thee, my eternal love,

Even from so far, I hear the lovely beat of your heart, the alluring race of your pulse. Each night as I wake, your beating heart is all I care to listen for. I have not seen the sun in centuries, nor heard the call of morning roosters, but when the heat of your blood is my replacement, I find I do not mind. 

My beautiful mortal darling, as ephemeral as the petals of a spring flower. I, they call a vampire, a forager of blood, but it is beauty that I seek. Under the cover of darkness, near the churchyard, was when I found you. A muse, an angel, sitting at a grave. So young, so beautiful. I just could not bear letting your beauty be marred and restrained by the common village folk. I knew then you walked in a murky world- one that no one else could understand. You’re far too slight for such burdens. I would carry the world for you, slaughter villages, burn down whomever you ask. It was time to strike, for love could not wait. You fought, and you cried, relieved to be rid of mortal plights. 

I am not the monster you wish to believe I am. My undead heart has not beat in centuries- however, when I am with you, I feel the faintest tremors of a pulse. I’ll live a long time yet, my dear, and I could not bear an eternity without you. The day you die will be the day I’m destined to wander this world more helpless and alone than I have ever been. I’ll call your name to the moon at night, knowing there will be no answer.

And that is why I must never let you pass on from this world. 

Your Darling, Dearest, Dead, Osamu Dazai.”

. . .

To be the perfect doll is to be quiet, docile, and moldable. To be a wife is to be the same. A delicate puppet on silk strings, meant to be taken care of, meant to bend to every will and whim of their man. 

Cursed with your womb, you are all but a fully autonomous person in the eyes of the masses. A woman in the early 1800s has one duty to her family- marry young and above your social standing. Never step a foot out of line and never pull at your own strings. 

You were his- irrevocably, incredibly, dangerously his. Dazai had long made sure of that. 

His hand clasps your own and pins it above your head, a silent command from him to listen as you lie on the satin sheets. In a flurry, your hair splayed across the bed like a halo as blood red light filled the room. To Dazai, you were the light of heaven he was destined to never see. A gift from a God that despised him- perhaps to make up for His transgressions. 

Dazai’s deep, steady breaths puffed against your neck, even as his narrow hips pressed flush against yours. “My darling…” He sighs, never once blinking. Dazai couldn’t stand the idea of taking his eyes off of you for even a second. Each moment, each minute, each hour was so special, so precious. Each second that Dazai dared to spend not gazing upon your beauty was a second wasted. You were human still. And you could so easily leave him, slipping away into eternity.

His hips stilled against yours, the tip of his cock gently kissing your cervix. “My darling.” Dazai nearly whines, leaning forward until his chest pressed against yours just so his lips could gently kiss at your pulse point. Your blood was warm, much like the sun he had not seen in decades, and it was sweet just like the food he could no longer taste. “I adore you.”

Dazai was always a desperate, pitiful man. One who longed for things greater than him and shrunk away when his wishes were fulfilled. But you, his dearest human, was one thing he could never shy away from. 

You were lonely tucked away in his home, but you were safe. There was so much beyond his walls that could harm a human and you were simply not allowed to die by anyone’s hand but his own. 

His cold hand drags up your torso, leaving goosebumps in its wake, and up to your chest. You were so warm, Dazai laughed weakly against your neck as he listened to the heavy beat of your heart. He had no need for you to reciprocate his devotions so long as you stayed alive.

“I adore you, my love. You know that.” Dazai resists the urge to sink his fangs into your exposed neck, pulling himself away to stare at the flush on your cheeks. “I haven't felt such joy in either of my lives- undead or otherwise.” He savored every whine and cry that fell from your colored lips as he slammed his hips in and out of your tight hole. 

His nails bit and tore into your skin, letting droplets of your blood stain the sheets below. You hiccuped and cried every night when he took you to bed, but you no longer fight like you once had. It was a pity, really. Dazai thought you looked especially cute as you kicked and squirmed, trying to fight an inhuman being away. 

You tilt your head to the side, sniffling as Dazai holds you by your hips, forcing you to feel every thick inch as he plunges into you with an obscenely wet noise. Your strangled gasp meshes into a hiss as he punches the air out of your lungs with each thrust.

“Look at me.” Dazai whispers, grabbing your chin and pulling your face towards him. His voice is soft and sweet, a gentle breeze against your lips. But his smile is wide and his grip is bruising. When you fail to raise your eyes, he pulls your hips towards him harshly, forcing you to feel his cock in your stomach. “I will not ask you again.” It’s only when you feel the familiar blade of his dagger pressing against your throat that you dare look at him. 

Crimson light spills into the room like it was a flood. The red moon hung heavy in the sky, consuming and tearing every little star in its light. Your husband was slotted between your legs, one hand keeping you leg on his hip and the other pointing the silver dagger at your esophagus. Like the old renaissance paintings of the devil, Dazai was handsome. In the light, his brown eyes seem to glow mahogany. A horrible, horrible gaze as you don’t dare avert your eyes again.

After a moment, as he studies the look on your face, the resignation, Dazai smiles though he does not lower his blade. “There we go. I missed those pretty eyes, my love. I don’t like when you ignore me.”

As Dazai starts to move his hips once more, he drags his blade down from your throat to in between your breasts and down your sternum.

“You do know why I must keep you here, right?” He begins. “It’s not because I’m cruel and enjoy watching you suffer. There is just so much in the world that could harm you.” Dazai’s pelvis kisses yours each time he pulls out just to stuff you full once again. His thrusts are merciless and rough, one hand planted firmly on your hip, pulling you down on his cock each time he rams it in as the other points his dagger at your heart. “Just as easily as I keep you alive, I could kill you. Isn’t that terrifying?”

His voice is eerily calm and steady, even as wet squelches, gasps, and hisses fill the air. Each thrust muddies your thoughts, filling your mind with nothing but the dopamine of pleasure. It was hard to think, much less hate the man in front of you when he fucked in a way no human could. Then, he sinks the knife into your chest just slightly, enough to split the skin and let small streaks of red make their way down your skin. 

Instinctively, you squirm and whine, desperate to move away as your mind screamed danger but his dagger did not move. It felt like each shuddering inhale and hiccuping exhale would only drive the silver blade further into your chest.

“Calm down.” He mutters, moving the blade from the shallow wound as Dazai leaned down to lie his forehead against yours. He dragged it down your stomach, stopping just above where your womb would rest. “I have no intention to kill you, and you know that. If I had, I would’ve done so long ago. What poor excuse of a husband would ever murder such a darling wife?”

You knew, had learned months ago, what a monster your husband really was. You had made one attempt at escape and you knew to never try such a thing again. Dazai was cruel and vicious with his victims- the poor, innocent people he fed from, but he was so much worse with his love. 

His smile pulled tight as he looked down at you. He had intentions of giving you a second chance only once, if his beloved dared to defy him once more… The night would end with your shared bed soaked in blood as your corpses held one another.

Stakes don’t kill vampires, he had told you that night as he dabbed at the wounds he had inflicted upon you, bloody and weeping. That’s just a silly story that weak humans came up with to make themselves feel stronger. However, silver- something so pure and holy, is just the thing to do the trick. 

“You’re sick.” Your voice wobbles, thick and cracking as your eyes glare up at his. “The only reason you haven’t killed me is because I’m cattle to you.”

“Is that so?” He smiles, stabbing the dagger into the pillow next to your head. Dazai huffs with effort, gritting his teeth, letting his fangs click and clash together as he works open your cunt. “Will you do it, then? Will you try to kill your shepherd? This is the only chance you’ll ever get, darling.”

You spat at him, face flushed red in a way his no longer could, despite the drool wetting your bruised lips. Your rich blood mixed with sweat, streaking down your chest- the mounds bouncing as Dazai grinned.

“Just look at you…” He croons, hand that once held the dagger coming to grip your chin once more. His hand held you with such force, you could see the way his arms flexed. Your once soft skin was marred and littered with blacks, purples, and yellows- with puncture marks from when he had not felt like finding another victim to terrorize. “So precious. I should carve out your womb. No human man would ever want you, then. Even if by some chance of fate, you escape from my clutches, there is not a single person on this earth that will ever consider having you know that you’ve been defiled by me.”

“You’re vile.” You hiss, voice weak and strained. You wanted nothing more than to push your captor away, to reject his advances but such luxuries were fantasy so long as you wanted to live. You clasp your hand over your mouth as Dazai delivers a particularly hard thrust into your cunt, shutting you up. 

Dazai groans, his hand falling away as his desperate thrusts speed up. “I know.” He drawls, “I know. And that’s why I want you. Why I need you.” Dazai pants into your ear, the hot breath contrasting sharply to his cold skin- the chill running down your spine and pushing you closer to him. “Because I’m vile and you’re the best thing to ever happen to me.”

He groans, rolling his hips into yours inch by inch, with the depravity and viciousness of a beast. Desperation ached inside of his bones like a disease, burning and boiling with each thought of you. Dazai loved you so much, he wanted to keep you to himself forever. Wanted to kill you to preserve your memory. Wanted to turn you to make sure he’ll never be alone again. 

As you tilted your head back, walls fluttering around him, he takes his place with his lips on your neck once more. Gently, as he had done a thousand times before, his fangs punctured the delicate flesh. Warm, rich blood pooled into his mouth- only a single drop escaping him. 

Dazai’s thrusts speed up as he gasps, pulling back with bloodied lips. He could barely control himself on the best of days, he’d drain you in but a moment. Each movement made Dazai crave more, the lava pooling in his gut addictive and sweet.

It felt like his cock was molding its shape in your core, truly claiming you as his in the most vile, animalistic way. Everything felt raw, sensitive to the touch. You could barely think, barely breathe with how thoroughly the vampire was drilling your aching cunt. Overwhelmed tears drip off your flushed cheeks as your own incisor threatens to split your lip.

“I need you by my side, my love.” Dazai sighs, kissing down from your temple until he finds the still pulsing wound on your neck. “And so, I must never let you pass on.”

Once more, his fangs find their way into your neck and once more do you feel the gentle cold taking over your body.

➛ wanna join my kinktober taglist?

➛ tags!! @null-zero-0 @ghostedwriting @Sinfulthoughtsposts @oforphicintent @kiironyx @seasonaldeii @rainsoakedsun @sakui1 @meowimacow

[bluetooththereptile]

Can I request a part 2 for His Mother (Yandere Damian Wayne x naga reader x Yandere Bruce Wayne)🙏🙏🙏

Yes! For sure you can!

( English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes in the following text.)

Note: this oneshot is continuation of this fic.

Tw: mentions of drugs

The faint scent of soaked wood was in the air, and your den's condition was stimulated so well that if it wasn't for the walls around you, you'd feel at home. Minus the sunlight of course, and a fresh breeze, the air made you feel weak and sleepy and its scent was sort of sweet on your tongue, as if it was spring already and the flower petals were in the air. Every day, all you did as time passed was either spent sleeping or taking care of the little one who unlike you was extremely energetic, cooing and babbling as she crawled around with her tiny hands, still not old enough to learn how to crawl with her tail. She could be a menace and a little angel at the same time, crawling on top of a few branches and then jumping down onto you, giggling, which was her favorite pastime that left you alert most of the time to her presence. Lately, a few teeth had grown into her mouth and she had started to nibble on things, including your tail, and feeding her with your hands had turned into a challenge. Now that you looked around, you could see her bite marks on the plants around you. That little thing had explored the whole invisible cage so many times that you'd wondered if she had learned to crawl on the walls as well...it wasn't that unlikely of her.

Speaking of the devil...

Lulu's head popped up from under the water as she splashed the water around her "Mama, mama!" She reached out for you, and you slowly reached out and took the baby in your arms, she could breathe underwater unlike you, which meant her parents were water-based Nagas. Handling her wasn't easy, but it was for a few hours before they came along. Bruce and your boy, Damian. They somehow knew how to handle both you and little LuLu, or as they called her, Lucy.

You looked down at the cooing baby in your arms, smiling softly, Lulu was pure white, her large eyes having a red hue to them, you thought the poor thing was sick for not having a color to her scales or little puffs of hair, not knowing that she was a very rare albino, oh how many nights you had spent on worrying about her health not noticing that she was chubbier than most of baby Nagas you had seen, which meant she was quiet healthy.

As you held the baby, she nuzzled into your chest, liking the fabric of your topwear. Bruce would provide you with them, and not much to your liking, he'd take it off or put it on you himself. Lulu's tail wrapped around your arm as you rocked her, watching her play with the tip of your tail, poking it with her chubby fingers. You let out a soft sigh of irritation as she reached for the tip and started playing with it, you didn't know when you found that abandoned egg you'd end up like this, you were mateless and young, without much experience, you didn't know how to handle the baby, and she didn't help you with handling her either...well, except Damian, at least he'd listen. Your mouth turned downwards, remembering that he was the reason you were now captive. Poor you, you didn't have much luck in both parenting and mating...well, as for mating, Bruce still tried to woo you, you could easily deduce that, but how did he know of Naga culture and their ways of courting, you weren't sure.

Lulu squirmed out of your arms and swam into the shallow pond, splashing around as she swam to the other side of it, you sighed again, too tired to follow her around. "Lulu...honey come back" You tried to take her attention, but she was already on her way to creating chaos once more. You relax your upper body on the warm sands close to the pond, and your lower half rests in the water, soaking in. Today none of them came along, were they unwell? The thought made you feel bad, both with the image of them being sick and your thought of caring about them made you feel bad. You couldn't deny you worried about them as well, but...Were you being tamed like a beast? Never! You wouldn't allow that!

You were too busy rubbing your temple as you let your thoughts circle in your mind like a swarm of irritating flies, to notice the door of your gilded cage opening. Damian and Jon's heads popped in, noticing that you were far away from their side of the cage they let out a sigh of relief. Knowing you, if it wasn't for the sedatives you'd be charging at them already. You looked at the two humans entering slowly, struggling with blinking to keep your eyes open, you rested your head on top of your hand, watching them walk to Lulu, who was already crawling toward them.

"Dami! Dami!" Lulu squealed with excitement as she spotted Damian, her chubby cheeks flushed with the struggle of crawling faster to her brother. Damian smiled at the little one and bent down and picked her up, her giggles filling the air. You smiled softly at the scene, looking at how Damian's one snake-like eye's iris widened at the sight of his sister, a sign that he loved her.

You hummed his name under your breath, remembering the time you had to put your special balm on his wounds, made out of your blood and a few different herbs, unknowingly giving him some sort of mutation, making him gain some snake-like features. How precious he was when he held onto you tightly, seeking comfort, fever haunting his body because of the infection in his blood. You wanted to be mad at him for bringing that man, Bruce, to take you away from your swamp, but you couldn't, he was your boy.

When Damian turned around to take Lulu away you felt a little surge of panic rush into your reptilian heart, where was he taking Lulu? "W-wait-!" You were too slow and the boy and his friend had left with the little one, leaving you there, filling your heart with worry. You moved into the pond, getting closer to the door of the cage, you knew you couldn't move past the invisible walls of it, naturally you didn't know of glasses, thinking of them as invisible walls, you didn't know how to move past them, but you still tried. You moved your hand and slammed it on the door of your confinement with the remnants of your energy in a struggle to make it open, you knew it would be in vain, but you still did so, but much to your surprise, the invisible door opened, letting clean air come into your cage, you could see a different light coming from there...oh?...oh...OH!

....

"Just be quick, I need to put Lucy back with Mom..." Damian told Jon as he put Lulu in the little tub to keep her from crawling around. The baby Naga was a little distraught by the unfamiliar nature of her surroundings, her small fist tightly holding onto Damian's finger. Jon moved closer, with a few little dresses that his mother had tailored for little Lucy. "My mom said they are water resistant," Jon said with his proud smile and helped put the dress on top of Lulu's body, she giggled as her head popped out of the neckline of the little pink dress, finding it amusing that Damian tried to pull her little arms into the holes of the sleeveless dress, to her everything seemed like a game.

"If you want to take pictures, I have a camera you know" Dick appeared behind the two young boys startling them slightly. Jon nodded enthusiastically, while Damian huffed "Let me at least tidy up her hair". He said as he ran his fingers into her white messy locks. "Say cheese!" Dick spoke as he used a rattle to gain Lulu's attention as he held the camera, chuckling slightly as Lulu looked up at him with a large smile, her few teeth shining. The picture of the Naga in her cute dress was taken with a bright flash from the camera. The bright light made a huge shadow behind them appear on the wall the three humans tensed up visibly, turning around slowly, their eyes widening in shock.

....

"E-easy, Y/N..." Bruce groaned out as your tail made another circle around his legs, tightening around them not so gently. You were on top of him, your hands holding him as you glared down at him with your snake eyes. You had crawled out of your cage and since you weren't inhaling sedatives, you were gaining back your strength, so you had startled Bruce on his seat in the bat cave.

You looked down at the man you had pinned to his seat, unconsciously moving your hand to trace the different parts of his face, you were too focused on his blue eyes that you didn't notice his hand move to push a button, it'd give you an electric shock to stop you from doing something reckless, but his hand paused as he watched you lay slowly on top of him, trying to get some warmth from his body. "Mate..." the word came out of your mouth in a whisper, you had realized that struggling was futile, Bruce was the alpha predator of your chain of family, and you should submit to feel happier, he knew how to handle Lulu and Damian and seemed to like you, even now that Lulu was away from you she seemed happy enough, so why resist?

"Mine..." you added, making Bruce smile nervously, something that he had thought would happen with force, now had happened easily. His hand moved away from the button to caress your hair, chuckling slightly as he heard Lulu's voice as Damian approached them with her in his arms "Mama! Mama!" Her voice echoed in the cave, promising a new future in a much different world for you with your new family.

[r0-boat]

Because I’m starving for the boy who clearly came out of a shoujo manga. The true beauty of Hades imho. Could I request some sweet and maybe spicy Foras headcanons? 🌸

Ooh YES!!

Foras headcanons

Nsfw&Sfw

Cw: stalking, dubcon.

Sfw

Foras is in unknown territory. It's just a flutter every time he sees you. You're so bright and lively that he shy is always so easily. But at the same time, it's that same bright and liveliness He wants to protect and cherish. He has never been in love before. And the fluttery feelings honestly scare him.

Balancing his love and loyalty for his king and his love for you is difficult... Especially when the two of you fight like angels and devils. He knows how much you don't like Levi but he'll still at least try to get you to have a better relationship. (He doesn't know the dynamic you two have) he can't help but selfishly fantasize about having both you and leviathan his arms. And he hates seeing two people he loves fight.

Foras wants you but never dared to act on those feelings; call it shyness. Or call it not wanting to give unwanted competition to his king. He avoids you when he's visible; when he's invisible, he's practically your new shadow. He passes off as an excuse, throwing his king under the bus. Telling you that Levi had ordered him to stalk you. (Something he would tell you if you actually catch him) which is half true. Yes, Levi wants him to follow you around everywhere you go to report back to him. But honestly, he's just as curious about you as Levi.

But will not fight you if You're the one initiates. In fact, he would prefer that; his heart would go wild if you pull on his ropes and pull them into a kiss. He doesn't care if he gets punished for this. He wants to feel your soft lips against his.

Touch starved. Extremely touched starved. Melting into your hand when you pat his head, touched starved. He wants more, but he doesn't want to ask.

He feels that little pain in his chest, poisonous jealousy when other devils get your attention. But, he had never acted out on those feelings before.

He would only do something if it protected you. Or if an angel attacked you and your all alone. He is the reason that water or snacks would magically appear if you say the your hungry or thirsty.

Nsfw

He can't say that he has claim over you, Even though it'd feel good too. He wants to claim you in more ways, claim the inside of his body in the most prime way. He touches himself every night dreaming to how you would feel. Every night, he would touch himself to you, wishing and wanting. He hates to admit it, but one time, he came into your room invisible and walked in on you, touching yourself. His breath was getting heavy and shaky, looking how your fingers and hands played with yourself. After a while of watching you, he gives in, sliding his hand into his pants to palm himself. Biting his lip to hold back his sounds.

His greatest fantasy is fucking you in front of Leviathan. Whether it be ordered to do so or not, it's something that he jacks off to constantly.

Despite being a devil, He's actually sort of innocent by devil standards. He has never had sex before.

Now that he is over you, his face is pink, and he is nervous; he wants to pleasure you. He wants to make you feel good. even though he's very nervous. At least he knows how you like to touch yourself.

Pull on his chains will you ride him; he'll go insane. Those things are just for decoration, so they might break, but he doesn't care. The sight was so hot he filled you up on the spot.

Closet pervert. Chivalrous knight of hell is a closet pervert! He has a virgin but at the same time he thinks about doing real nasty things to you you'll never know because of his straight face.

[tojisun]

i'm going to move on. whatever it takes, i will forget.

this was something that you began to carry around, the weight of the words a burden to your shoulders. you feel weak. you feel lethargic. floating. like a body drowning in stagnant waters.

there is no one else that could pull you up, you know that. god, you know that, but you continue to fall. splintering. breaking.

a washed up star, devouring everything in its wake as it sputters in its futile attempts to live—is this not you?

is this not the way in which simon left you? pawing at the flesh of your body, nails digging in as you poke and scratch, hoping to gouge out the pulsing organ because maybe, just maybe, if you had no heart then you would not feel this way anymore.

because he left you like this: a broken person, unable to live. to breathe. food no longer tastes the same, your bedroom smells sour—it still smells like his old perfume—and no amount of opened windows can make the scent waft away. you can barely drink your water, you can barely stand underneath the shower.

he left you like this: a ghost of what once was, unable to let go of the memories. you hear the rumble of his voice even when you smother yourself with your sheets, you feel the ticklish touch of his fingers running down the planes of your spine when you lay on your side. the spring air feels too cold. the spring sun feels too hot.

you are a miasmic reaction. a person with no purpose. a museum of all of your love, no matter the end.

simon still leaves you messages:

"your friends say they haven't seen you for a while now, love. i hope you're doing just alright."

"i'm sorry. i always will be. please, take care sweetheart."

you think he is the devil whom old folks in your hometown used to talk about; the king of evil who comes in a beautiful visage, before sliding in your dreams to devour you from the inside-out. the malevolence who sucks the life out from every pore so that he may leave you stranded on your bed, in your house, on your own skin.

because if simon isn't the devil, then why does he torment you this way?

he calls you beautiful names like they don't mean anything to him; it makes you question if they even meant something to him then, before the breakup.

maybe they didn't. that hurts.

maybe they did—this hurts more. because why would he continue to call you these? why would he continue to remind you of what once was?

your fingers twitch, poised for a reply. poised for anything—a plea, a question.

you send him neither.

instead, you delete his contact and shut your phone off. you throw it underneath your bed before sliding back under your sheets, the backs of your eyes prickling as tears build. pooling. then, falling.

(a weeping star—)

your regret peaks the next day as you clamber to your bruised knees, stretching your gaunt body to pluck your phone out of the darkness. you turn it on and add him back to your message list, frantic, heart in your throat, only to stop short at the reality of what you've done.

his contact is a blank slate now, just as empty as you are.

the words that you used to cherish, the ones where he called you his beloved and his angel and his favourite person ever, are gone. the proof that he loved you just as much has all been deleted, all because of your error.

you sob again, anguish anew. bile rises from the back of your throat and you stumble to your feet as you rush to your bathroom, your body knocking against the door before tumbling onto the floor. you heave.

what a mess you've become, still unable to reconcile the fact that your lover is gone now.

lover—the holder of all of your love.

simon.

simonsimonsimon.

he's left you, truly.

this is it, forever.

how cruel, you think, weeping, your hands trembling as you wipe at the corners of your mouth. how could he leave me this way?

the grief bloats, and you cry.

you cry because it is all that you can do. all that you are left to do.

("why're you cryin'?" simon asked, his thumb gentle as it swiped at the skin just underneath your eyes.

"i've missed you," you replied wetly, voice all nasally from your tears.

he huffed a fond laugh, the puffs of his breath hitting the bridge of your nose. he turned to cup your cheek instead, his other arm falling to wrap around your waist.

"y'know i'll never leave you, yeah?" his eyes were crinkled in his smile. "i've got so much love f'r you, petal. leaving you isn't even something that i can see happening."

you sniffled, nodding, your lips wobbling as new bouts of tears fell. simon smiled before he pulled you to his lap, gentle and careful. you tucked your face on the crook of his neck, finding comfort in his touch.)

you peel your eyes open, cataloguing the phantom pain shooting from the small of your back to your hip. you shift, careful as you rouse from the cold floor of your bathroom.

you think you dreamt of something—a memory, perhaps—but you can't quite recall what it was.

the sharp throb in your heart clues you in on what it might have been, but you're too afraid to jog your memory because you know you wouldn't be able to handle thinking about simon again. it is going to be a long day, after all.

a long, empty day.

[peanutbubba]

Stuck On You

Ace x Gn!reader, praise, fire, confessions of love, established relationship, reader and Ace are so in love, Narcolepsy strikes, not beta read, 1k+ words

Black strands blow in the wind, flickering every which way like a flame, so beautifully entrancing that it has your eyes widening.

It wasn’t often that Ace would walk on the Moby Dick without a hat, but when those days came you made sure to savor every part of them.

Carefully watching him across from the deck, watching how the wind messes up his hair, or how the upper half of his face looks so so good finally open to the sun.

You sigh, wondering if Ace thought of the same when you would take off your hat. Did he enjoy it? Wish for it to happen more?

Though eventually the thought is lost when he spots you, his eyes perking up as he turns to face your direction, waving to you merrily. Heat raised up your cheeks, flushing as you waved back to him, tilting the brim of your hat slightly down to hide your red face.

You’re sure that Ace would be the death of you, your chest tightening almost painfully every time you place your eyes on him. He was an angel to you, one of the most perfect beings in your eyes.

Sometimes it makes you forget, that you’re actually dating him, because you’re always hiding behind that shroud that someone as ethereal as himself could never love someone so average. Every time you remember it’s like ice cold water on your face, he wanted you, hand picked you, cherished you, and you were forever grateful.

Acutely, you were also aware that Ace did not view himself the same way you did, a shock to you when you first heard it.

When he had confessed that he was the son of Gol D. Roger there were tears stopped by his lashes, lips trembling as he expected you to call him the devil or yell obscenities at him.

You only chuckled, making Ace’s eyes snap from your shared bed to you, confusion in his eyes. Gently reaching for his cheeks as you brought him closer, kissing over the freckles on his left cheek, thumbing softly on the ones of the right.

“Does it matter who your father is?” You ask across his skin, breath fanning on his cheek. “Even as a pirate, you’re so perfect I’m sure you’re the only treasure I’d ever need.”

Ace practically sobs at your words and actions, wrapping his arms tightly around you, burying his face in your shoulder as you soothed him, joyful that truly you didn’t care.

And it continued like that, days were Ace though he deserved nothing but to die, you would be right beside him, worshiping him so fervently he had no choice but to cave and admit he was perfect.

You were so lost in your own thoughts of appreciating Ace that you hadn’t even realized he came right next to you, the gentle hand on your shoulder jolting you awake like you’d been struck by lightning.

He looked at you worriedly, thick eyebrows furrowed in concern, plush lips opening as he spoke. “Are you okay?”

“No,” then you shake your head, going even a brighter red if possible, “I mean yes!”

His face only contorts more, looking at you absurdly, the sun casting a glow on his hair, imitating a halo that only proved your previous statements.

“Are you free?” You finally choke out, a fish out of water sounding less out of breath than you, and Ace chuckles.

Nodding his head he goes to ask you a question but is stopped by you, your hand immediately gripping his own as you turn around and lead him to your shared quarters.

Locking the door behind Ace, dragging him further until you reach the bed, sitting down first then pulling Ace on your lap second. His arms planting themselves on your shoulders, knees and thighs beside yours, trapping you in.

Taking off your hat your place it instead on Ace’s head, a soft happy gasp leaving him as he pushes it down on his head properly. “What is this about, babe?”

You look down, burying your face in the crook of his neck, kissing and nipping carefully on the skin there. “I love you Ace.”

“I love you so much,” reaching your hands up you touch and caress every bit of skin you can, and Ace smiles because you’re in one of your moods where nothing matters but him.

You sigh softly, lips colliding with his collarbone next, grazing the skin ever so slightly with your teeth, but it’s enough to make him whine softly. “So lovely, so sweet.”

Your right hand trails up to Ace’s bicep, tracing the letters of his tattoo with practiced precision, outlining it nicely then raking your fingers back down his back, Ace shivering on your lap.

Peppering kisses up, from his collar bone to his Adam’s apple, then to his cheeks. You’re favorite part making itself know as Ace quietly laughs, smile making his eyes crease in to beautiful crescents.

As you lean back you stare, forgetting to breath as Ace shifted shyly on your lap, adverting his eyes.

“Is there something on my face?” He questions, his cheeks flushing as your gaze burns into him.

“No,” you shake your head softly, closing the space between the two of you, “You’re just too handsome to not stare at.”

You watch as the blush on Ace’s cheeks spreads even further, even covering his freckled shoulders, a happy almost purr like noise leaving his chest.

You chuckle at this, Ace’s eyes flickering back to you, watching how your shoulders raise in fall in delight because of him.

It has his heart clenching so tightly in adoration, you genuinely loved him so much it was shocking, a couple times you even joked that if he wanted you’d kiss the very ground he walks on. Every time when you would get like this, especially when you would stare at him like he hung all the stars in the night sky, he wouldn’t doubt the truth behind those words.

He’s absolutely sure that you were made for him, made to love and appreciate him in a way no one else could, made to compliment his very existence, and fuck, did you make living truly worth it.

You’d follow him wherever, do anything asked of you so long if Ace was the one asking, and likewise, Ace was in the same boat for you.

The two of you so truly whipped with each other that nothing could rival it, because even if the world crashed and burn right now the both of you wouldn’t care so long as you had each other.

Slowly you rub your nose on Ace’s, humming to get the man out of his head. “What are you thinking about?”

“How I want to marry you,” Ace simply snickers back, finally catching you off guard, now his turn to watch has your cheeks heat up.

You lean in and give a quick peck on Ace’s lips, pulling away as Ace follows, wishing that the kiss lasted longer. “I’ll make sure to get a ring soon then.”

Now it was back to Ace being flustered, orange flames igniting on his shoulders, making him lean back away from you so you wouldn’t get burnt.

It took him a minute to calm down completely, the fire on his shoulders shifting back into his skin, and he huffs finally leaning back in, resting his forehead on your shoulder.

Closing his eyes he focuses on how you make shapes on his unclothed back, or on your finger nails gently scratching on his back.

Before he knows it he goes from wide awake to dead asleep, happily snoring away, hunched over on your shoulder, arms still wrapped around your neck.

You’re surprised when you hear his snores, giggling at how cute Ace was, slowly pushing yourself further on the bed, trying your best to not wake the man on your lap.

As you get at a comfortable spot you lay back, closing your eyes as well as Ace rests on top of you, his naturally warmer temperature lulling you into sleep as well.

—

Get the poppers out guys, I finally wrote more than 1,000 words. Literally wrote this so late so I don’t know if actually has a flow, but I hope it does.

Anyways, I hope y’all enjoyed, Pea’s out!

[nova2kss]

Influencer island

“GOOD MORNING AMERICAAAA”

“I’m your host Yanna Bailey and we are back here on the influencer island”.

“On the previous episode we introduced the men that dared to step foot on this island and you guys went absolutely wild!”

“I know we picked a top tier cast but damn, #theinfluencerisland number 1 trending on twitter?”

“You bitches are eating it up, so I know for a fact when we introduce these ladies yall are going to be in absolute shambles.”

“Starting off hot as HELL”

“….sorry y’all I had to take a breath.”

“It’s Mikasa fucking Ackerman”

“I fucking love her okay! And I’m not gon lie I don’t know if ima be able to host this show…you can’t put Mika in a room with Yanna cause ima jump on this woman bones.”

“Anywho.. Mika is a celebrity nail tech and hair dresser, you’ve seen her on tour with Victoria Monet, Megan the stallion, so many more but most importantly ? Cardi B!”

“Yes the girl who gives cardi those gorgeous claws and the girl who be giving cardi that long ass weave that be tickling her ass crack that is THE Mikasa Ackerman.

Aside from her gorgeous looks and work she is a party animal and you can see her turning up in multiple crowds of the artists that she stays with…let’s see if she can bring that same energy to the island.”

“Gosh I am so excited to introduce this next hottie, she so soft spoken but I heard she gives it up pretty wild off the camera, as you know she is a pretty new influencer so I think she’s coming in here with something to prove.”

“The gorgeous blonde baker Historia Reiss”

“So off topic but her name is sooo cute”

“Historia went viral showing her tremendous cooking skills back in mid 2023, and since then she’s been going viral for baked goods and beauty.”

“But let’s not forget about the time this little firecracker whooped ass at a Fourth of July party THIS YEAR!”

“Something that not only myself but the fans were not excepting, I know you guys are gonna be so happy to see her on here”

“We’ve seen how Historia gives it up in the in the kitchen, we’ve seen how she gives it up in the field, now it’s time to see if she can hang with these animals on this island”

“As stated she is pretty like an angel but the call her the devil…(there were no lies told)”

“Sasha braus first rose to fame on TikTok reviewing foods and looking so hot with that gorgeous maroon hair”

“You can see her with the talented man himself Jean Kristen, according to them they are childhood best friends and we’ve seen Jean and party mode but never sash…that’s gonna change on this island.”

“Sasha was ranked on the 2024 top 20 comedians list at #12, I can honestly see why everyone loves Sasha pretty, hilarious, and relatable… mhm she’s gonna fit right in here”

“Calypso, calypso, calypso…mhm girl you are gonna get me in TROUBLE”

“This short haired hottie calypso blue has been on a longgggg break from the internet and the only time we’ve seen her is when she popped outside with her influencer bestie y/n”

“And mind y’all we only knew it was her cause of them famous short hair..”

“Well let me tell yall, after a damn near year long hiatus she has popped out and boy oh BOY!”

“This girlie done came back with some longer hair, and some Tatts…?? We already knew calypso blue was a hottie but this?? Oh she is taking it hunty”

“The intro is no longer needed calypso blue is here and you’ll be seeing her first hand on influencer island.”

“…..I don’t like this bitch.”

“But it’s my job to introduce her.”

“Ummm so i really don’t know who picked her BUT this is Pieck finger, she’s a black haired bitch who party’s a lot fucked porco on video tried to get at my nigga and I’m probably gonna beat her ass.”

“On a brighter note we know she can party cause it’s all she does, no questions asked she could get as wild as the other guys and gals…NEXT”

“Our next and final blondie is Mrs. Hitch”

“And according to her Rihanna’s faviorite which I’m pretty sure the whole internet disagrees with but..I digress.”

“Beautiful girl who rose to fame back in 2022 being spotted with Rihanna and I mean if you’re being spotted with someone as big as mofucking riri you think we not finna check you out?”

“But besides being ri right hand women it’s time to see what else hitchey can do…you know without the co-sign ”

“The beautiful Ryan!!”

“Ryan is the owner of the ASOS clothing brand which is a brand for plus sized men and women.”

“She became very popular on TikTok while promoting her clothing brand and since then she’s taken off with so many sells, fans and followers”

“We know she can design the hell out some clothes but I wanna know what it she gonna do once her toes hit this sand.”

“As y’all known she’s known to be a shy girl and doesn’t party much…BUT WE CANT BE HAVIN THAT HAIR”

“So we gone need Ryan to come up out her shell and hopefully survive on this long awaited journey”

“And finally we have the beauty, the mogul, the TOP influencer y/n”

“She needs to intro we all know her”

“And we all love her”

“She is THE beauty influencer, 9 time outta 10 if you’re searching tips and tricks you’re on her page scrolling endlessly”

“I’ve partied with this city girl before so I know how she gives it up now it’s your turn to see and boy I cannot wait for you to see, you guys fav isn’t as innocent as you think”

“Whew lord I pray for the beds in this house cause with these fine ass men and these gorgeous women I feel like they’ll be broke before we ever get to finish filming.”

“Know that you know which of your favs will be participating in the match a vote will be up shortly you can choose who you want to stay or go before they even get into the house, and remember to chose wisely after all you don’t want the wrong person to get that 1 million dollar check.”

“I’m your host Yanna Bailey signing out, make sure you stay tuned for the pilot of influencer Island.”

The girlies are here!!!! Sorry if I didn’t add an aot character that you wanted, I needed my sexy ocs to shine 😁

Idk if you guys peeped but I tried to do different shades of black for y/n but yea first ep coming soon and make sure to vote on the poll !!

❤️

[moscnios]

          ✩༄ diet mountain dew ! | red-haired shanks.

☆ — pairing! . . .  mobster!shanks x bartender!f!reader.

☆ — summary! . . .  as a mob boss’s kid who is sheltered from the underground, there’s only a handful of things your old man wanted you to be aware of. one of those things were men you shouldn’t hang around. number one on the list was him, the one with the red hair, the mobster giving your old man the most trouble. you would never break your promise to your old man, would you?

☆ — cw(s)! . . .  mafia!au.  nsfw.  afab!reader.  ( “cunt” / “core” used to describe genitals among others ) no pronouns used.  reader wears a short dress.  age gap.  reader is implied to be in their early 20s.  sub!reader.  fingering.  oral.  ( f and m receiving )  facefucking.  overstimulation.  piv.  unprotected sex.  shanks calls the reader “angel” and “gorgeous”.  reader calls shanks “red”.  alcohol consumption. not proofread.  MINORS DNI. 

☆ — wc! . . .  3.4k.

☆ — notepad! . . .  i promised someone a shanks smut...i couldn’t stick to the original script so as an apology, i give you mobster!shanks and rival boss’s kid <3 wow! that summary was not good lmaoooo

You shouldn’t!

You can’t!

If they caught you like this! You’d be dead!

The voice in the back of your head grew stronger, and louder with every rough touch, every passionate kiss, every pretty shallow moan, and sigh that escaped from your bruised lips into his mouth. The voice of reason, screaming at you, to stop, to remember the consequences, as your hands found their way into his hair, gently tugging at his dark red locks, pulling him closer, deeper into you. The feeling of his strong chest finally pressed against yours, made you shiver.

You could feel the redhead smile briefly against your lips before finally breaking your kiss. You stared breathlessly at him. His dark, lust-filled eyes stared back at you with want, with need. Before you could catch your breath, he spun you around, entrapping you between his body and the cold bar. You could feel his bulge pressed against your ass.

With a light satisfied hum, you leaned over the bar, your bare cheek touching the cool surface. The redhead had followed suit, letting his broad chest press against your back. His lips grazed the top of your ear. “You look so fucking beautiful bent over this bar, Angel,” He whispered in your ear, sending chills down your spine, “I’m gonna take such good care of you.” The redhead kissed down to your neck that you would be covered in deep purple blotches, come morning. You could feel his smirk on your hot skin. Everything was pointing to this being a bad idea, to him being a bad idea.

There were many titles you had come to know the redhead by since you had become old enough to listen in on the family trade. Listening intently from behind the bar to the mobsters you had come to know as older brothers, sitting around the poker table with a cigar hanging from their mouths and a handful of cards.

The Red Devil. Eyes of Death.

But one stuck out to you the most.

“The bastard you should stay away from”, You remembered your father’s words, with that harsh glare that you and the others had become all too familiar with. You had nervously brushed it off, reassuring your father that you wouldn’t even dream of being in the same room with an enemy of the family, let alone him.

Nobody could be that stupid to just waltz into enemy territory so carelessly, let alone set foot in the speakeasy operated by the boss’ kid! It was suicide! Though you have never seen the things your father and his underlings do to those they call enemies, you heard a few of the gruesome rumors. Just what man would even risk that?

Who else than the fearless redhead himself?

The door to your bar opened and closed, as your back was turned. You could not help but roll your eyes, as you pointed to the clock on the wall across the room, “We’re closed, you know.”

“Aww, you close pretty early for a Saturday night, gorgeous,” An unfamiliar voice reached your ears. You could hear the playful disappointment in his tone. You nearly felt his pout through his words.

Your words did not seem to turn him away. You could hear the heels of his boots, getting closer before stopping altogether. You could hear the stranger plop down into one of the bar stools, making himself all comfortable right after you told him you were closed, “I take it you’re not a night owl then.” He teased.

“And I take it you’re not good at following directions,” You retorted, your back still turned to him, finishing up stocking the bar shelves.

“Something like that.” He laughed.

You were starting to get irritated, “Look. For the last time, we’re closed. We closed almost an hour ago. You can either come back tomorrow or I bring somebody in here to come retrieve you. My folks ain’t too friendly to people who...” You finally turned around, your eyes finally meeting his.

Shanks, the boss of that ragtag group of mobsters from the east side of town. The ragtag group of nobodies pushing themselves onto other families’ territories because they had gotten too big for their own britches, you heard your father say once. They wanted a hand in everyone’s business, by any means necessary. Even if it meant spilling a few pints of blood.

He was a dangerous man, even more so than the men you had known all of your life. And he stumbled his way into your speakeasy out of all of the ones on this side of town. He had to know what he was doing here. There was no way it was just luck.

“Your folks ain’t too friendly to people who do what exactly?” He raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to finish your sentence, “Cat got your tongue?”

There was no amount of front you could put on that would fool him. The way his dark eyes bore into you, he could read you easily. He noticed you swallow shallowly. He almost instantly lost the intimidating aura that surrounded him, a playful one taking its place as he let out a hearty laugh, “I’m just messing with you, Angel.”

Angel.

Running this bar, you thought you heard all the pet names there were to hear. But Angel…felt different, especially coming from his lips. You almost didn’t mind it, but only from him.

You took a good look at him. You had seen pictures of the greedy bastard before. But seeing him in person you realize those photos weren’t doing him any justice.

He was a gorgeous man and by the way he carried himself, you knew that he knew it too. He was confident. He was mature. His rugged look and the aged scars that covered his tanned skin added a nice charm. The top buttons of his button-up were left undone, giving you a nice glimpse at his strong, hairy chest. He took very good care of himself. You wondered if he had done the same on the lower half.

“I don’t mind being gawked at by a pretty thing such as yourself. But I think a deserve a drink if you’re just gonna stand there and eye-fuck me, don’t you think?”

You dropped your eyes to your station. You could feel your body burning. He was vulgar and blunt. Something you weren’t used to in this business. Your father’s high rank often made others scared to even look at you when the boss was around.

No funny ideas about the boss’s kid! But him? He didn’t care. Maybe because he was older than most of these mobsters who worked for your father. Perhaps because he had much more experience under his belt. Whatever it was, it was doing something for you. And you wanted to have a bit of fun.

You fixed the redhead a glass of the strongest whiskey you have. You set the glass down in front of him, “It’s on the house.”

“Oh?”

“As a thank you for giving me something nice to look at,” He watched as your eyes traveled down his chest, before meeting his gaze again.

He couldn’t hold his chuckle, “Cute and flirty. I may have just found the best speakeasy and the sexiest bartender on this side of town. Maybe I’ll come back to see you.”

He sure knew how to make a person feel all giddy. As the drinks kept coming, the flirting continued. You were enjoying his company, his words, his eyes raking over your figure wrapped in that minidress that didn’t leave much to one’s imagination.

“You’re going to drink me out of business. That whiskey was expensive, Red.” You frown, shaking the near-empty bottle, to feel just how empty it was, “I should charge this to your tab.” You set the bottle aside, turning to the buzzed mobster sitting on the other side of the bar. After drinking nearly the entire bottle, he seemed only a little tipsy. Just how often did he drink?

“Aww, don’t be like that, Angel. You had a few swigs too,” He whined.

“But the difference is I own the place. You? You’re here to flirt your way into a few drinks and walk out without paying, huh?” You teased, boldly leaning over the bar top, your face just inches away from the most dangerous man in town. And here you were, welcoming said danger.

Shanks smirked, downing the last corner of the whiskey in his glass, leaning towards you until the tips of your nose had grazed one another’s, “Without paying? What kind of man you take me for? I’ll pay you back tenfold and then some in ways these little boys that run around here can’t. I’ll make you feel like the only one in the world.” His tone had darkened.

“Yeah? What kind of payment are you looking to treat me to, Red?” You played coy.

“Come around the bar and I’ll show you, Angel.”

Which is how you ended up here, bent over the bar with his body pressed against yours, his rough lips trailing down to the base of your neck. You wanted this. You need this. You craved this, you craved him. To hell with the consequences, you needed him.

He pulled away suddenly, straightening himself back up. He wasted no time, flipping up your minidress to reveal your ass, “Such a perfect ass. You wanted me to see you like this, huh? This little fucking dress you got on. If you can even call this little thing a dress.” His hands gently caressed your ass, as he focused on your already-soaked panties, “Never have I seen a dress so short. If you bent over earlier, I’d see everything. But you’d like that wouldn’t you, Angel? You’re already dripping. Slip out of these for me.”

You nodded your head, helping him pull down your drenched panties. You stepped out of them, letting them fall to the floor. You reached for the zipper of your dress next, “The dress too?”

“The dress stays on. Need to fuck you good in this so you remember me every time you put it on.”

You unconsciously squeezed your thighs together at his words, reaching around to capture his lips in a short kiss. He pulled away from your lips, giving your ass a tight squeeze. He placed two fingers on your bottom lip, “Suck. Get them all nice and wet for me.”

You took his digits into your mouth, coating them. Once they were drenched to his liking, he pulled them out of your mouth, replacing them with his lips on yours in a sloppy kiss. He used his foot, to spread your legs further, bringing his drenched digits down to your core. He slid his fingers up and down your entrance, before sliding them inside of you painfully slow, making you moan into his mouth.

He began to pump his fingers into you, pulling away from your lips, “This okay?”

“Better than okay. Your fingers feel really good.”

“That’s what I like to hear.”

He latched onto your shoulder, sucking and licking at your skin, as he drove his thick digits in and out of you, curling them. His pace grew faster in response to your moans. He needed to hear more, he wanted you to be loud. He needed to hear just how good he was making you feel, letting all your worries wash away and be replaced with pleasure.

Your body began to wrench underneath him. You were close, so dangerously close. And he knew it. He could feel your walls contracting around his fingers. “Close, Angel?” He said into your shoulder, earning a frantic nod from you.

Very suddenly, his lips parted from your shoulder and he slipped his digits out of you. Before you could whine about the loss of contact, how you were so close, the mobster carefully dropped to his knees, shoving his face into your cunt, burying his hot tongue into you. Finally tasting you, he hummed in delight.

“Fuck!” Your body shuttered, reaching your high on his face. He helped you ride out your first orgasm on his tongue, but he continued to lap at your folds from behind, whispering praises you couldn’t even focus on due to the slight sting of overstimulation washing over your body. You tried to lean away from his mouth, though the mobster had other plans, wrapping his arm around to keep you moving too far. “I’m not finished with you yet. Be a good little barkeep and take everything I give you.”

You gripped tightly onto the edge of the bar, pushing your ass back to meet his tongue, fucking yourself on the muscle. Though you could not see him, from his delighted hums and the way his fingers gripped into the plush of your skin, you knew he was enjoying himself too.

It was not long before the second band of pleasure began to build up inside of you. Feeling you contract around his tongue, his large hand found its way back to yours, intertwining your fingers. You gave his hand a tight squeeze before cumming. Your second orgasm washed over you even more intensely than the first. Your legs had nearly given out, if you weren’t trapped between him and the bar, you would have likely fallen.

He helped you ride out your second orgasm, before letting go of your hand. His hand found the bar to use as a crutch to stand. He used the back of his hand, to wipe the glistening arousal still left on his chin, “You may taste much better than the whiskey. But maybe I need another taste to compare the two.”

After catching your breath, you slowly turned around to face him. You watched the redhead reach for the whiskey bottle, taking the last swig. He looked between you and the empty bottle, “I was correct, you taste better.”

You roll your eyes. “Even after all that, you’re still adding to your tab.”

“I can pay it off now, don’t you think?” He pulled you into a passionate kiss, leaving your hands pressed onto his chest. Everything about him was intoxicating. He was addicting. You just could not get enough of him.

Your hands had found themselves on the buttons of his shirt, undoing the rest of them. He reluctantly pulled away from your lips, helping you slip his shirt off. You fiddled with the button and zipper of his trousers, undoing them before palming his bulge. He sighed softly, his dark eyes never left yours. “If you didn’t owe me for the whiskey maybe I’d return the favor this time,” You teased.

“Oh, how mean,” He chuckled, “You’ll have plenty of chances to return the favor later.”

“Oh? I will?”

“Absolutely,” He placed a peck on the tip of your nose, sealing his promise. “Spin around again for me.” You spun around in his warm hold, finding yourself bent over the bar for him again. You flipped up your dress this time. Though a piece of you wanted to see him, all of him, you sure didn’t mind being bent over like this, with nowhere to run, the man you shouldn’t be with pinning you down. It was all just such a rush.

Shanks pulled his trousers down just enough to free his hardened cock. He suddenly guided his length along your folds, using your arousal as lubricant. The action made you jolt in surprise. Against your entrance, you could feel how thick he was. You could even feel the prominent veins running down his shaft.

“You feel me, Angel? What you do to me? Huh?” He purred lowly. You hummed in response, eagerly anticipating feeling him deep inside of you. Shanks lined his length up with your entrance, guiding his length into your dripping core. You both let out a drawn-out moan as he bottomed out. The stretch of his cock inside of you was delicious. You’ve never felt so full.

The redhead leaned down, kissing up from your shoulder to your neck, “Fuck, you feel better than I imagined. I should just whisk you away after this.”

You grinned, tossing your head to the side to give him more access to your neck, “I wouldn’t mind for a day.”

“All I get is one day?”

“Fuck me right and I’ll consider adding a second.”

“Such a fucking tease,” He whispered, kissing your lips as he began to rock his hips into yours. He rolled out, leaving the tip before sinking back into your cunt, moaning against your lips. He set a slow but deep pace into you, as he kissed you, swallowing every moan and whimper you were giving him.

His pace gradually grew. His thrusts had grown fast and rough. He let go of your lips, groaning a hushed fuck into your shoulder. Your speakeasy was filled with the sound of his hips pounding your ass into the bar, your moans, and his low curses and praises of you.

“You’re taking me so well. So fucking well,” He praised. His hand moved from its place on your hip, down to your clit to rub rapid, messy circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves. He didn’t miss the way you shivered at the sensation. The way you gripped tighter onto the bar, the way your eyes had wired shut. “My pretty angel.”

He leaned close to your ear, “You like being fucked like this? Huh? Knowing anyone could just walk in and see you like this? To see you for what you truly are? I need your words, gorgeous.”

“YES! I LOVE IT, SHANKS!”

“Oh, so you can say my name. How cute.” He could feel your walls start to contract again. A cocky grin appeared on his features, “You gonna cum again, Angel?”

“YES! FUCK YES!”

“Cum.” He grunted into your ear, sending you over the edge once more. You shuttered underneath him with a loud cry of his name, coating his cock in your juices. Your orgasm had nearly brought him to his end. He shut his eyes tightly, as he focused on hitting that high. His thrusts were sloppy and uneven, he was so close, “I’m gonna cum. Where do you want it?”

“My mouth.”

“Yeah?”

The redhead pulled out, stroking his cock, as he watched you spin around and drop to your knees. You swatted away his hand, replacing it with yours, as you took him as deep as you could into your mouth.

“FUCK!” He shivered under your touch, your hot mouth, shooting ropes of his warm cum down your throat. His hand found its way to the back of your head, pushing you further onto his cock, as he gently thrusted into your mouth to ride out his orgasm. After a deep sigh and a hearty laugh, he pulled his length out of your mouth. “Get your pretty ass up here.”

You climbed back up to your somewhat still wobbling feet, nearly falling into him, as he crashed his lips onto yours. You were the one to pull away this time, “You should get outta here, Red. I don’t want my folks to see you here.”

“You kicking me to the curb like that? I’m hurt,” He pouted, “Aw come on, the night is still young. We can do whatever you like. Hit up another bar, go for a nice drive through town…” He trailed off, reaching for the hem of your dress, “…maybe take this thing off back at my place. We can do whatever your little heart desires. Just be my angel.”

“You want me to be your angel for the night?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No, my angel for a lifetime,” He clarified, stepping behind you, peppering your neck in open-mouthed kisses. You tried your hardest to act uninterested. You folded your arms across your chest, crossed your legs, and pretended to be annoyed at his affections.

A one-night stand was one thing, but being with him was something different. There was no turning back then. There was no telling what your folks would do if they found it, even if they found out about him being here. Could you risk it? Would you risk it?

He was no good for you. But it made you desire him even more. Just...just this once. Just...him. You needed to have him.

What the family didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them, right?

© MANGEKYUOU — do not copy, repost, or translate my works.

[h5eavenly]

Fallen Star┃Jake Sim

nine -the devil and angel are entangled. warnings: smut and a bit of angst.

Masterlist ✶ prev ✶ next

You’re having a bad day. It did not necessarily start that way. In fact, your morning started out as one of the best in quite a while, from waking up ten minutes earlier than your alarm to the pleasant quietness that had swirled around in your apartment settling that same pleasant emotion to swim through every nook and cranny of your being.

And so, you find yourself going on a coffee run before heading to the company, a charming smile adorns your face that gets you a free blueberry muffin. It all falls perfectly into the pleasurable warm buzz in your chest. like pieces of a puzzle flumping into place. Crumbs of joy that had managed to find its way into you, separating the collective graying clouds of heartbreak you’ve been lying on for a couple of days.

But oh, you were so wrong. You should have known these clouds are gonna be replaced with a burning fire instead. One that you became too familiar with. It sets your soul ablaze every time you come face to face with the devil’s facet, clad in designer brands and doused in a seemingly uncanny aptitude for getting on your nerves.

Jake Sim.

“What the fuck is this?” he almost spits, a grimace clinging to his handsome features and a glare saturated with the same fire that’s burning inside of you.

“Coffee?” you reply, drily. Your gaze flickers between his eyes and the cup of coffee you handed to him ten seconds ago.

“It tastes like absolute shit. What kind of milk is this?” your hand twitches against your chest, you fight against an otherworldly urge to just smack him across the head and maybe pull on his perfectly styled hair that somehow manages to add grams of beauty to his already perfectly sculpted face –

Okay. Taking a deep breath in, you manage to trap in your wild thoughts for a mere second as you clear your throat.

“Califia. Isn’t that what you like?”

“This is not Califia.” he declares. His head swivels towards you with a deepening glare that somehow has your insides tying into knots. His eyes shouldn’t affect you this much but the dusted colors of dark brown and a light black on his lids only add sharpness to them. It has you pathetically kneeling into desire.

From behind him Sunoo sighs, abandoning his work on jake’s face and his brushes to walk away from the growing heated argument he knows is bound to happen. He has been a witness to it close to a hundred times by now.

“Call me when you’re done.” He calls to the both of you with a yawn. It falls on deafening ears as you attempt, fragilely so to glare back at Jake.

“it’s what I asked them for I don’t know what to tell you Jake.” Even his name leaves a bitter taste on your tongue, melting into something darker that you ignore.

“Well clearly someone is lying here.”

“it’s not like I can make the coffee myself.”

“Then don’t bring me something I didn’t ask for.”

“I’m just trying to be nice.”

“that’s not working very well for you, isn’t it bunny?” his tight brows and tongue poking his cheek shouldn’t also affect you, but it does. Perhaps that’s why it annoyed you, the fact that he was just so attractive yet so annoying. Pulling you apart with confusion. It all bleeds into frustration that bubbles up in your blood, so you huff. Refusing to accept defeat.

“I’ll get you a different one.”

You try to reach for his cup that he has deemed worthless, placed it on top of the table across from him. His hand circles your wrist before you do. His fingers are cold against your pulse, sending shivers down your spine and a pitiful gasp bubble at the back of your throat. Coming up with immense force and almost spills your deviant cravings right at jake’s face. You bite on your lower lip just in time to kill your embarrassment.

“Just get me a protein bar instead. I’m not in the mood for coffee anymore.” The lack of emotions in his tone is antithetical to the masses dancing in his eyes. growing darker in color, splashed with undeniable desire. Making itself so evident when he glances down at your bitten lips.

You swallow around nothing. Your eyes prancing between his as if it’s ever possible for fire to be added upon more fire. Like it could consume you whole and turn you into ashes that simply lays at the feet of the nation’s sweetheart. Another countless victim to the glistening of him. You don’t know who you should start throwing the blanket of blame on first. Your ex-boyfriend who cheated on you and left you to deal with despair on your own? Or perhaps it was the perpetrator who started this little game of mouse and cat? Translating itself into endless staring contests between the two of you and you always end up losing somehow.

It only got somehow rapidly worse over the week. Jake will peek at you in the most random of times. Between the fluttering of his lashes as he’s getting his face done for whatever upcoming programme or in the between the crowds of nameless people and amid the loads of work, you’re being crushed under. His eyes would find you one way or another. A thin line on the verge of breaking stays between you two. It’s in the lingering of his stare when you’re stuck in the van in the middle of unmoving traffic. He rests his chin in the heart of his palm and a wandering curiosity laces his gaze with a dazzling intensity. They’re piercings and more than anything clear.

Capturing you in place with the overwhelming knowledge that he knows exactly what he wants. It almost has you melting against the leather of the car seats. Like a flower loitering amongst many, almost blending in with everything else and hoping to be lucky enough to get picked. It’s pathetic. You grow hateful at it so quickly it should be alarming. It meshes into you taking it as a challenge, daring yourself not to be the first to be weakened and look away.

A smirk disperses across Jake’s lips each time with no fail and you stumble on your cold façade, swaying and drenched in a feeble coated loneliness. Yet with a coarse heart you take and take until you snapped.

It happened two days ago.

After a long day of work you find yourself in the all-too familiar elevator of the company. An Aching body and a hazy mind. Jake has his head thrown back against the wall behind him, his Prada sunglasses covering his eyes while Jay is next to him scrolling through his phone mindlessly. You bask in this rare tranquility for a few seconds before it’s interrupted by a huge group of staff members. Invading the cramped space. With a sigh and deflating shoulders, you move to make space. Squishing yourself into a corner as you hug yourself in futile attempts to make yourself appear smaller than you already are.

You’re surprised when another smaller group joins in as well leaving little to no room to breathe. Jake is somehow pushed right next to you and into your space. His scent breaks its way through to you before you feel him against your back, his chest pressed against you, and he uses his palm to rest on the wall right next to your head that is refusing to face him. Instead thanking God and the heavens above at the lack of mirrors in this specific elevator.

The last thing you want right now is catch your own reflection or even worse – Jake’s reflection.

The sudden proximity has your heart picking speed as you haven’t been this close to Jake before, his expensive perfume almost chokes you when someone pushes him again. Causing him to press you further against the wall. You’re starting to feel suffocated. It only ever becomes worse when you grow hyperaware of his chest raising and falling against your back, his breath fans against your exposed neck and you shiver.

“You good, bunny?” Jake murmurs into the back of your head, his other arm coming up to splay his hand flat against the wall, successfully caging you in. his voice is low yet soft. Softer than any other time he had spoken to you before, tenderly causing tingles to linger at the top of your spine.

Jake had never spoken to you gently before if he’s not blunt and cold. He is teasing you with harmless insults and perhaps that’s why his tone has specifically broke you that day. It blazed a trail down your being, nestling in the middle of your stomach and travelling down right to your core.

When was the last time someone had spoken to you this softly?

You can’t come up with a good enough answer. Not to the question swimming around in your fizzy mind or the one Jake threw at you. you’re flickering, wobbling on this thin line between you and your eyes are following the trail of veins on his hands. They look so strong that your brain melts and turns into mush, the only thought arising on top of everything is that he could fuck you right now and you would definitely let him.

Maybe that’s why when your lips separate a phantom of a whimper escapes you, ringing in Jake’s ears when you start squirming, pushing your lower half back against him in the process. You aren’t sure if you’re trying to get away or closer to him.

“What are you doing?” He groans, pushing further into you to stop your constant movement. The sound sends another unwanted shudder through your body.

“I can’t breathe.” You hang your head, disgrace marring your cheeks in red at the way you catch yourself in a lie. The way your eyes have glazed over, and there’s a haze turning your mind into a jumbled mess. forcing you into the lust you have been denying the existence of for days now.

You can’t breathe.

And it’s not because of this cage you found yourself trapped in, it’s because of him.

“we’re almost there.” His voice is almost like a distance dangled comfort, offered by some pitying god that you refuse to take despite your sinful thoughts and so you grow quiet, equally terrified at acknowledging the fact you want him.

You feel like a stumbling mess all the way home, with wobbly legs and a quivering heart that somehow always manages to make itself your worst enemy. You don’t allow yourself the pleasure to scour the thoughts swirling in your mind for answers. Instead, you mellow out into the tingling electricity that had lingered on your back. As if his scent seared itself onto you, you end up touching yourself in the middle of your bed. myriad of visions invades your mind. They’re mostly of Jake’s hands and intensive stare. A glorious fire that takes you so high up and only when you’re down do you realize;

Oh, you’re so fucked.

“yn,” jake’s annoyed voice pulls you right back into the current situation you’re in. he arches a brow at you and you blink, breaking yourself out of a daze.

Daydreaming about your boss who happens to be in front of you right now is a different kind of fucked. One that you didn’t have in your bingo card for this year.

“Right. Protein bar I’m on it.” You free your wrist from his grip easily, he falls back into his seat with suspicion mixed with irritation that has him biting on his lower lip. A habit that you grew to hate so quickly. It has you straightening your back and moving away in a stiff manner. As if you’re an alien that just learned how to walk on human ground.

“You okay?” Jay asks you when you manage to faceplant right into his chest as soon as you’re out of the room, a breath of a chuckle escapes him at your expression.

You only give him an equally stiff thumbs up, a blush so deeply red spreads across your cheeks like an exposure to all the corrupted fantasies that found your brain and made it their home. It’s so ridiculous you don’t even welcome them so why are they taking over you as if you are a dried up branch flourishing back to life with none other than your desire for Jake Sim out of all people.

You will not allow it.

You catch yourself in another lie when afternoon rolls around. Passing by you with a blur drenched in misfortunate mishaps. It all begins with an inexplainable discussion you end up in with one of the staff members, you don’t recognize her so you think she must be new. She saw you next to Jake earlier that morning and apparently thought it was funny to joke about you and him fucking and perhaps it hit way too close to him. Perhaps because it is something you’ve been thinking about for nights upon nights but it had angered you so much. To the point where you decide to give her a piece of your mind when you run into her in the bathroom.

Despite the smell of actual shit surrounding you, your anger doesn’t subside. In fact, it only grows bigger when the girl rolls her eyes at you and walks away in the middle of you talking. You screamed, hitting your hand against the wall.

And that’s how you ended up with a broken nail. A bandage that has a fucking bunny on it of all animals wrapped around your pinky and a scowl not nearly as cute plastered on your face. You are startled when the door of the dressing room opens, your stare flits across Jake’s figure that dawdles past you followed by Sunghoon. You sink further into the couch you’re sitting on. Annoyance pulling at you when your silence is interrupted.

“Oh, hey yn.” Sunghoon greets, notices your figure that is being drowned by a graying disappointment. Almost as deep as the lines forming between your brows.

“Hey,” you return drily.

Your eyes linger on Jake, and he catches them from across the room. They cut into you deeply, it has you splitting open, breaking like shattered glass and your only wish as you go down is to cut him back.

The longer your staring stretches the more you feel your blood started to bubble with something akin to anger. Running through your veins and becoming one with every other negative emotion that has nestled in you throughout the day. It makes up all of you, turning you into a hungry void that wants to swallow everything in sight. It only grows when you feel like you’re the only one who’s getting burned by this fire growing vastly fast between you two.

Jake’s façade never breaks, doused with indifference and feigned coldness. It’s in the way his pruriency for you is ferocious. Taking up every sense of his being, he finds it in the notes of your scent, vanilla, and cinnamon like you’ve stumbled out of a bakery. Sugary sweet and he’s never been a fan of dessert, yet he grows a sweet tooth just for the taste of you.

It’s in the way you’re infuriatingly confident. Carrying yourself with a loudness he’s sure he despises yet you manage to walk away with pockets full of his attention. The shape of your body capturing growing ounces of his interest day by day. Perhaps he’s just sexually frustrated, he hasn’t fucked anyone since Chaewon. And so, when he glances one too many times at your legs and when he’s staring at your breasts too long to be deemed discreet. He lets himself because he’s just taken by his sweeping frustration.

Because truth is he finds you insufferable, overly stubborn with a spark of determination in your gaze, yet his want is uninhibited, crawling to you with licks of temptation and he pretends to be stronger than any of it. That the way you laugh so loudly is enough exasperation for his lust to abate. He pretends that you being so pretty doesn’t matter as much, that the innocence clinging to the edges of your smile like you haven’t been tainted by the evil of the world is only a rarity he finds in you.

It pulls him right into you and yet away from all his logical thinking. He finds himself being thrown back and forth in the overwhelmingly profound walls of his brain.

He’s never met someone who irritates him as much as you do so how is it that he craves you this bad?

Jake’s hiding is deep-rooted and so you remain unaware of it all.

“yn can you hand me Jake’s shirt? It’s on the rack behind you.” Sunghoon speaks, words cutting into the pregnant silence that had spread around the room. It hangs heavy that you don’t ever hear him.

Your mind stolen with the wandering of your eyes, dipping to Jake’s hand clad in rings. They’re nothing sort of enticing and yet you find yourself transfixed, unable to process anything that’s going around you and unable to look away from him.

It’s tremendously inequitable how he looks like he ambled out of a painting carefully coming to life by a starstruck lover. It’s aggravating how he’s a sculptor’s approximation of a person. You’re sure he’s been sipping on angels’ tears in his past life because there’s no way for him to be real otherwise and even when the angel is walking towards you with so much force in his steps, his wings dripping with glittering gold covers the floor and a couple of broken hearts cling to his lashes, you hold your breath. It’s in the faint scars adoring the palm of his hands.

It’s so absurd how could it be possible for something so tarnished to hold onto so much beauty? How is he so captivatingly attractive?

When Jake leans over you, his body mere centimeters and your face is almost buried in his chest. Your heart pulses against your ribs, eyes widening in surprise.

“Focus bunny,” he says with a stern look in his eyes, pulling back and the shirt Sunghoon had asked for in his arms.

You’re unable to come up with something to say. Your mind a blank when Jake takes his shirt off. His skin comes to view like whiplash to your face and your heart sinks to your fucking ankle.

It has your cheeks heating up, you fumble with the end of your rope.

One slip, all it took was one slip and you’ve fallen.

“Can you leave us alone?” Jake’s voice breaks into your clouds of thoughts and you swallow. Standing up and with too much of shakiness in your legs, you head for the door.

“Not you bunny. Sunghoon leave.” The latter looks between you two, taking note of the tension that seems to follow you two. It’s fatuous yet Sunghoon complies.

“What’s with you?” He stands before you, arching a brow at you and you linger by the door. Toying with the hem of your skirt and avoiding his gaze. The same one that is dancing across your figure appetitively.

“What?” You don’t mean to snap at him, but you do and his face hardens enough to chip enamel.

“Don’t start giving me attitude now.”

You sigh, a breath of exhaustion as you try to regain some pieces of sanity that the lines on his abdomen stole. Your eyes lolling everywhere but him.

“Sorry I’m just having a bad day.”

“you’ve been having a bad day for the last two weeks?” he asks sarcastically, followed by a scoff that tugs at your anger so easily. Yet you keep quiet.

“Get your shit together yn. you’re only making this harder for everyone else.” He adds bitterly, scrutinizing your futile attempts at avoiding his eyes. maybe because you know he’s right that anger finally sinks its teeth in you, and you don’t resist it. Locking eyes with him with a newfound raising flame.

“It’s not like you’re making it any fucking easier for me.”

“Don’t cuss at me.”

“I’m not cussing at you.”

He pauses, his gaze flickers for a mere moment that it’s enough to have you slipping yet again. As if you have been standing on slippery glass all along, barely hanging on by his avoidance and a simple darkening of a shade is enough to weaken you. eluding the depths of your desire to the surface. The wall of tension builds alarmingly fast, it’s in the way Jake’s eyes follow your lips.

“My job isn’t to make anything easier for you. so, if you feel like it’s too much you can leave.”

“I’m not leaving.” Your voice wavers slightly, mimicking the buckling of your knees.

“Then take it.” You wither away in silent indignation, so intense it feels seared on you and it only grows, peeking over the now mountain of tension. So leaden, it only intensifies when Jake’s takes slow steps towards you. A playful glint has taken its claim in his eyes, like he had won a contest you didn’t agree to be a part of. When he’s close enough he brings attention to your lips with his index finger.

“And take care of this mouth too yeah?” like splashes of wine your cheeks grow red in color and Jake’s lips tilt upwards in a troublesome smirk “behave bunny.” His words are meaningless, a passing empty thought he throws right at your face and when you sputter for a response. Swaying with shaking hands to gather your discomposure that he abandons as he walks past you.

It’s a blunder, one that will have you mourning your dignity right after and yet like a fool who stumbled upon a dazzling cup filled with sparkling poison you drink up. The devil and angel are entangled with sin when the words tumble out your lips;

“You take care of it then,” you turn to look at him and he looks back with the same vigor spilling from his eyes, like a river running down the route of lust.

“If you hate it this much then take care of it.”

For an indeterminate amount of time, the two of you stay there, standing in silence on opposite sides, it stretches agonizingly slow that you almost feel an overly determined urge to melt onto the floor you’re standing on.

Your mind careens over your own words yet when Jake takes a tentative step towards you, his eyes search yours for crumbles – you hope are heavenly enough to have him breaking and you didn’t just offer yourself to refusal. You don’t evade it, instead you allow yourself a few seconds to savor the intoxicating tension.

No one has ever looked at you with this much want before and so you forget the ability to breath like tiny million sparkling stars are falling from the darkness of his eyes and right into in the lodge of your throat, so sharp and rigid and they’re bright, so bright it lights up your insides. Like lightness have found an abandoned cave –

And because Jake burns first, so frighteningly fast like melted candle wax. Your inside twist when his lips meet yours in desperation that emerges a gasp from you

- They fucking explode.

Your lips move against each other with famish, a thirst nestled so deep in both of you it can only be quenched by your kiss. His hand is on the curve of your jaw and yours form fists in the lines of his shirt. The pressure of his mouth upon yours renders your mind a foggy mess. So much so that when he moves you against the door, your back hitting it harshly you follow with no reluctance. Another pretty gasp escapes you at the impact and it gives his tongue access to your mouth.

A light moan falls from you, as the kiss deepens the bridges of your noses slide together and with a mind of their own his hands are like phantoms travelling over your body, palming your breasts over your shirt. your every sense becomes overwhelmed with his lips, his touch.

“Are you clean?” he pulls away briefly and you whine, eyes heavy lidded as they chase after his lips again. As if your cells need him to live as opposed to oxygen.

“What?”

“I’m going to fuck you so are you clean?”  you blink at him, the fog clearing up for a moment and you almost frown close enough to take offense if your underwear sticking to you with wetness isn’t growing annoying,

“I’m clean,” you murmur, almost doused in shame that you don’t get to linger in before he’s diving back into you. his lips finding yours with fervor and the air bleeds red with desire.

With his hands down your underwear, he lightly brushes to tease at the wetness. Lips quirking in something akin to egoistical pride. And your expression turns sour despite the incontrollable bucking of your hips against his unmoving fingers.

“How come you’re this wet already?” he’s imprinting the words upon your cheeks, leaning down to drop the same bruising kisses to the skin of your neck and collarbone, drawing a map of possible regrets.

“I’m horny and I haven’t been fucked in weeks what did you expect?” you sneer, and his chuckles vibrates against your neck.

When he goes back in to kiss you, you feel your cognitive facilities shut down. Your hands with a mind of their own travel across his body, in his hair like you’re running on a time ticking bomb, and you need to feel every inch of him before it explodes.

“Get on the couch.” He whispers against your lips.

“You don’t have enough stamina to do it standing up?” you tease, a playful quirk of your lips that has his eyes darkening. You’re not sure if it’s anger or lust.

“Unless you want me to leave you like this you better zip it.”

Once you’re on the couch, he clambers over you, and the kiss that follows is filthy, his hands work fast on freeing his cock from his slacks and your mouth is falling apart with an open silent whimper when he runs the head of his cock down your covered slit. You pant into his mouth, spit dripping down your chin and you arch into him with a new sense of need coloring your moans.

“Hurry,” you mumble against his lips, your embarrassment shows plainly on your face and Jake only smirks at you.

He wraps his fingers around the hem of your skirt and pushes it upwards, creating a halo of fabric around you. he slides your panties down your legs just enough to have your pussy on display for him. Jake’s eyes are feral and heavy as it trails over your figure, so intensely deep it has you squirming in your place. An uncontrollable need crawls over you mixing in with your frustration.

“Are you gonna fuck me like you said you would or are you gonna keep staring at me?” you huff, feeling your patience thinning.

His lips quirk upwards in flickers close to mockery as he smooths his hands over your legs, tad too gentle for your liking but when he’s looking up at you it’s not close to tender but rather like you had fallen right into the devil’s lap.

Just like he had planned all along.

He slowly sinks into your wetness, chuckling at how quickly your mouth falls open with a silent moan. He grinds into you, his own eyes falling shut at how your walls lock his cock inside of you and you’re more than grateful for that. Not wanting to be witnessed with a stupefied look on your face.

You want to – try to keep quiet as if a challenge had presented itself to you and you remain nothing but a too stubborn of a flower, refusing to be picked especially not by Jake Sim of all people and so you bite down on your lower lip. You almost taste the sweetness of victory on your lips and then it’s pulled so brutally away from you when the head of his cock hits that gummy spot and you convulse. Head falling back with a strangled moan.

“F-fuck-“ you clench around him and your hand scrambles for purchase in his locks, the other digging into the couch, the throbbing pain of your pinky long forgotten.

He falls forwards with a soft laugh, so melodic and unexpected it has your stomach twisting into knots you aren’t sure are nerves or pleasure. He buries his face in your neck as he sloppily drives his hips deeper into you and his lips draw a lazy map of salvia rather than actual kisses on the skin of your neck. It leads him right to your lips; the eye contact you hate so much transpires again. Your bodies keen in flawless harmony, it’s absolutely sinful.

“You were so talkative earlier, what happened bunny?” he whispers on top of your mouth, close enough to behold the want in your eyes. you attempt to glare at him and yet it melts right with your dignity with the touch of his fingers on your jaw, stopping you from looking away as he fucks into you harder “are you gonna thank me for taking care of it?” open mouthed kisses dot across your jawbone before lining his lips over yours, your chin in his hold as he thrusts into you.

When he leans back, you’re growing delirious, barely gripping into your remaining sanity when he smirks at you “come on say it.” He mumbles half-heartedly and you shake your head with a whimper, it echoes throughout his mind and ignites a bigger fire within. Curling into an ungodly soundtrack of sweaty bodies and the hankering to break you.

“Say thank you Jake for giving me your cock,” he mocks, his voice like devilish thorns against your skin and you push at his shoulder with a grunt.

“F-fuck you.” He doesn’t falter at the wavering of your voice, so debilitated compared to the way you glare at him and yet it turns him on even more.

He starts to relentlessly fuck into you at a faster pace, the thrusts going from slow and deep to tight and pointed. It has your eyes rolling back into your head, mouth falling open with moans and whines- anything that could be good enough to indicate how he feels inside of you, how your cunt grips onto him in desperation for more, more, more.

You’re so dilapidated from pleasure that you’re struggling to breathe, struggling to control your sounds anymore. They spill over endlessly, and Jake knows they’ll be tattooed into his brain just like the first time he had heard music in his life. They will haunt him just like the clicks of a piano, so sweet, sugary sweet and addicting. He feels so good, inside of you, around you that tears start stinging in your eyes.

“Fuck- fuck Jake I’m coming oh- “you blabber.

“Shut the fuck up.” He presses his hand flat to your mouth, hushing you and pressing you further onto the couch and your eyes soften as you swallow, entranced by him. Your walls tighten around him and his tight grip falters but remains. His face is drenched in perspiration and so much want for you.

With the oxygen stolen from your lungs. Your breaths are quick and heaving and your body shakes in ecstasy as you feel your orgasm approaches quickly, building so intensely with the way his movements become jerky. Shooting your hand to your clit you work yourself up and further into the gates of iniquity. your whole body becomes taut, and you rock into your hands and chase after his cock. watching you melt under him is something Jake will be viciously proud of for a couple of days to come.

So much so that it’s almost an impossible challenge for him to pull out of you when his own high approaches dangerously overwhelming. With labored breaths, his eyes glued to your heaving figure. He spits on his hand and starts pumping his pulsating cock. His other hand scrambling for the tissues on the table and he sends himself over the edge. Your eyes are the only thing that he needs to fall.

As soon as the fog of lust clears up you feel a shift in the air. The gold and sparkles disappearing and washed away along with all the bent-up anger. Leaving behind nothing but a sliver of dullness and awkwardness that clings to your limbs. Jake moves from on top of you with a grimace. You watch him move to tidy himself up in almost blissful yet holding on by an ambiguous edge that tug at your heart painfully. When he looks at you, you don’t know why you almost feel like you want to disappear.

“Jay has been asking for you. Fix your hair before leaving I don’t want him knowing about this.”

Oh. Oh. It shouldn’t be a surprise to you that he doesn’t want anyone to know about this and you do realize how inappropriate all of this is and yet you still stumble into a bitter feeling. An old picture starts burning in your mind, the same one of you falling into desperate repetition of a prayer to someday be good enough to keep and not a sparkling piece of art that holds no actual value.

“I’m gonna leave first.” Jake speaks into your growing silence and the click of the door is the only indication of him leaving.

You don’t know how long you stay there on the couch. A couple of hundred emotions take over you, guilt, anger, regret, and shame. So much shame and all it took was one slip to throw you into the maze of agony so familiar yet so frigid and cold.

When you walk out of the room you run into Jay right away like a mockery of the devil you’re growing sick of playing with. There’s a knowing smirk spreading across his face as he studies you, one that you don’t get to see because you’re so busy looking anywhere else.

“You and Jake had a good talk? Sorted out the tension?”

“Yeah, all good.” You mumble almost inaudible as you push past him with a burning face.

Jake watches the interaction between you two with intense attention. His eyes betray him as they follow your figure almost religiously. and when Jay strolls to him with a shit-eating smile plastered across his face., Jake groans sinking down into his chair and hoping to somehow vanish.

“Don’t even fucking start,”

“I didn’t even say anything.” Jay retorts with a laugh.

“I know what you’re gonna say, and I don’t want to hear it.”

Jake’s hiding is deep-rooted and so you remain unaware of it all.

Once you’re one step in your apartment the sounds of all the too familiar trio have your shoulders deflating even further if possible. Despite your immense love for them the need for a quiet night after the hectic day you had is bigger. You can kiss it goodbye now.

“Hey,” Niki greets you as soon as your figure is in the living room, the other two sitting next to him on the couch turn from the tv to you as well and you force a smile upon your face despites the aching in your body,

“Hey guys,”

“Heeseung is helping me get to plat.” Jungwon tells you, eyes brimming with joy. It has your chest enveloping with warmth. a breath of fresh air like you’ve been choking all day. On your thoughts and on lingering stares

“Slay.” You ruffle his hair as you pass by him and into the kitchen, gravitating towards a glass of wine that you’re sure your soul needs.

“Are you okay?” Niki asks, eyes dancing across your features. Your mind clutters full of the earlier events and you down your glass of wine in a moment.

“I’m perfect.” You reply, pouring yourself another glass and running away from the concern lacing Niki’s eyes “I’m gonna take a bath and call it a day. Don’t trash my apartment.” You call out to them as you start heading towards your room.

“Without me?” Heeseung says from behind you, you ignore him and the only thing you hear before closing your door is the impact of Niki’s hand hitting his head and a loud ‘Ouch’ following.

The darkness of your room welcomes you, in a rather unexpected coldness that has you wondering what home really is. It’s all so stupid, and yet you wonder why you feel like a hole had opened right under you. staring at your glass of wine you feel like the air, not free but hallow.

One slip was all it took.

→ taglist : @slutforsjy @wonwoos-wineparty @nxzz-skz @piripurora @vousty

@realrintaro @slut4hee @chartrucewhore @iveivory @hearteyesforseungsung

@jooniesbears-blog @hee4lifer @pretty-bluntz @babrieeee @mandoscyare

@stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @softieluvsyou @seunghancore @chaewonshoney

@chaeyunloveeee @beommii @fuxktaekook @antonsgirlfriend

@direxila @rockyhedgehog @nessas-archive @lukeys-giggle

@arikazu @pochamocharoll @chlodavids

[cappulcino]

Seven Days Til Fall (Part 7)

Part 1 – Part 2 – Part 3 – Part 4 – Part 5 – Part 6 – Part 7

Read on AO3

Words: 6,666

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Angel!Reader

Summary: You're an angel sent on a divine mission to retrieve a powerful relic that has been stolen from Heaven. The orders are clear: gain an audience with the Devil, make deals with them if necessary, anything to return that object to the Silver City. But Hell is not quite what you expected, and neither is Lucifer.

Trigger warnings: Mentions of blood and wounds, non-graphic mentions of nudity and sex, slight wing kink

Midnight approached, and you could feel the quiet shift, the final moments of the sixth day slipping into the seventh as you tried to define the complex emotions coursing through your mind.

Soon, you would be walking down the same path Lucifer had when they were still Samael, Heaven would cast you down and Hellfire would come. How much would it hurt? More than you could imagine, undoubtedly more than you deserved.

The unknown weighed heavily, yet, deep beneath the fear, lay something else –a strange, unexpected peace. The end of everything you had ever known was near and it felt as terrifying as it was liberating. This path would lead you to the Morningstar, and in their realm, you would live on. In Hell, you would be free.

Chants began resonating from the heart of the Silver City. You knew what that meant. It was midnight. The seventh day had begun.

The door to your cell promptly opened then, and you closed your eyes to take a few deep breaths. Masked guards unfastened your chains from the wall and firmly gripped your arms to put you on your feet. Your heart was thumping, your knees wobbling with fear and yet, you found yourself smirking.

The guards took you to the Pearly Gates where every angel in Heaven seemed to be present, gathered in vast ranks stretching out beneath the Divine Light. Their voices rose in an anthem, praising God's justice and the Fall of Evil, but somehow, amidst the celestial harmonies, you failed to recognise the fervour the same angels had expressed when Lucifer had fallen all those aeons ago.

Then, Heaven had rejoiced with absolute conviction; you had been the only one not to sing –so you had found out from Gabriel the other night. But now, as your eyes moved through the assembly, you noticed things had changed. So many angels were barely singing, murmuring the words with their gazes fleeting or riveted to their feet.

Somewhere in the distance, you caught sight of Camael. Their purple eyes were of those that refused to watch the scene unfolding before them, and their mouth was forming words but not of praise –it seemed more like a prayer, a farewell whispered in your honour.

Not far from them, Muriel had decided to join the chorus, but her expression was anything but celebratory. She looked almost as if she were scolding herself, disappointment shadowing her usually cheerful traits.

Finally, among the Archangels, Arakiel's eyes shimmered as if on the verge of tears, though their face remained proud and their lips moved mechanically.

Seeing all your former peers like this stirred a strange emotion in you, a spark of hope, and you couldn't help but think that maybe your defiance would mean something. Maybe someday angels would question these chains and silences, the fearful compliance. Maybe you wouldn't fall in vain.

After a lengthy look at the Silver City and a small nod to those you could have once almost called friends to assure them you would be fine, you turned to the Pearly Gates.

The members of the Divine Council and the Metatron stood unwavering on each side, smug superiority in their stance, although betrayed by a certain bitterness. They had wanted to see you obliterated in the Hellfire, not alive under the Devil's protection.

"Such a shame," Michael murmured with an edge of disappointment as you walked by him, though his eyes were the coldest you had ever seen them. "We had placed a great deal of faith in you. Truly."

You turned to him fully, your voice sharp, a determined look on your face.

"So had I. Shameful, indeed."

Michael's expression flickered, but you moved past him, facing the Gates. With a mighty surge, they began to open, revealing the edge of Heaven. You stepped through and considered throwing one last glance at the place you once called home, or maybe even saying something to the angels awaiting your Fall.

But what was there to tell them? Most of them would not listen, so you figured a resolute silence would be more meaningful and you stayed still, your wings held high.

Suddenly, the atmosphere shifted, became charged with a power greater than anything in the infinite universe, and you felt the Presence. God was now here, and though you knew the angels behind you were still singing, you couldn't hear them any more. It was just you and Him.

An overwhelming sensation engulfed you, hateful, though you realised it was not so different from the so-called love you had felt at the moment of your creation. Interesting.

God reached down and, with mighty strength, lifted you by the wings, holding you aloft in front of Him. For a moment, time seemed to stand still, the weight of eternity suspended in His hands, and you shivered.

"And thus we meet again," you said, your voice surprisingly steady considering the turmoil raging inside you.

God did not answer. He never did –not to you, at least. But His energy spoke for Him, and you understood the disappointment and blame emanating from Him.

You knew it would be useless to defend your case now, and you didn't even want to. You had said it yesterday, you would not ask for forgiveness any more. You also knew it was too late to demand an explanation and that God would not give it to you anyway. But you had things weighing on your heart and you would not see God ever again. You had to speak now or forever hold your peace.

"Oh, my God, why have You forsaken me? Here I stand, condemned for nothing but my mind and my heart. I was once taught You had love for Your children even while they were still sinners, that no sin was truly unforgivable in Your sight. And so I believed. I believed in a God who loved even those who strayed from the path, a God who longed for each soul to return to the Light, who would always be there to guide me. Instead, You hid Yourself and left only Your Law –Your confusing, irrational Law. How was I supposed to understand that what I was doing was wrong?"

Faced with nothing but indifference, you looked up at the sky, aimlessly searching for an answer.

"I was merely seeking the Truth. You knew the way that I was taking, You have tested me. Why not make me know my transgression and my sin if I was so corrupted? And if I was to follow You blindly, why did You not make me of steel and stone? Why did You allow me to feel? I have tried to faithfully serve You and now look at the danger I am in. God, oh, my God… Have I feared You for nothing?"

Again, your desperate words were only met with silence. You sighed heavily. Was it all the Creator, this omnipotent and omniscient being, could do? Order to be obeyed and cast all resistance away like chaff in the wind?

"If all of this was known to You… If this end was Your design, if that is what You truly are, then I cannot regret choosing for myself. I can see, at last, that, perhaps, this was always the way."

Against all odds, a small, sour chuckle escaped your throat.

"In fact, I realise it is quite alright. Let it be, Father. I forgive You."

There was nothing left to say, and God could hear no more complaints. Thunder boomed under the heavenly vault and then, suddenly, you felt your skin tear and your wings snap like dead branches, violently ripped off your back.

And so, like the fragile autumn leaf, you fell.

The world, the whole universe began to spin around you. You were nowhere and everywhere all at once. Light and darkness collided. Your sense of time blurred, and you weren't sure if it was slowing down, accelerating, or if it had stopped altogether. Moments flashed before your eyes, past and present merged. Memories flooded in –laughter, tears, warmth, and cold. Faces and places flickered like shadows. Home. Lucifer. Prison. Isolation. God. Joy. Despair.

Everything was chaotic, yet so clear. You saw every choice, every doubt, every moment you wished you could change. There was a cacophony of emotions in your heart. You were nothing yet finally becoming something. Fear gripped your heart. Relief washed over you. You were free, but the price was steep.

With no wings to slow you down, your body ignited with the heat of your descent. It burnt, but you felt nothing. Not yet. The pain seemed distant as if belonging to someone else. Your Fall appeared like a never-ending death but still you lived.

Your body flipped again, and, for the very last time, you saw the Divine Light and heard the angels sing. That only lasted a brief moment before profound darkness swallowed you whole, a ludicrous cocoon, protecting you for the final instants of your Fall.

You hopelessly tried to brace yourself for impact.

And then crashed into Hell.

Your ears rang with the force of the shock, plunging you into a deafening silence. Your eyes were clouded with tears but still, you noticed a shape coming closer.

Lucifer.

The Lightbringer was rushing to your side, followed by Mazikeen, and then ungracefully collapsed on the ashy ground.

Your ears suddenly unclogged when they did and the first thing you heard was a blaring, high-pitched shrill. It took you a moment to realise it was coming out of your mouth.

"We have you," Lucifer attempted to reassure you as they scooped you in their arms. "You are not alone."

Your blood quickly ran down their hands and arms, tainted their robes. You were squirming ferociously, too, trying to fight the searing pain, but they never let you go. If anything, their embrace seemed to tighten.

You weren't too aware of it, but demons, alerted by the bright light coming down from Hell's orange sky and the echo of your Fall, had started to gather all around, ready to witness the transformation they had all once been through.

Indeed, new wings began to grow in your back, piercing through your tender flesh. Your eyes snapped in horror and your hands clumsily clutched Lucifer's tunic and everywhere you could while your shrieking doubled, resonating through the whole kingdom. And yet the Morningstar held on, even when you scratched their face.

"We know, We know."

Lucifer knew their words were vain, but still they tried to console you and make the torturous transition somewhat easier.

"We know, little dove. Breathe, it is almost over. Shh..."

But you were panting, contorting in impossible ways, and your head was starting to spin.

It felt atrocious, and not only physically. The psychological pain was just as intolerable. You felt like a newborn violently snatched from the womb. You were lost, had no idea what to do with all that freedom, and felt an inexplicable need to crawl back to your toxic certainties, and to the places and people you knew, those who had once made you believe you were safe.

Lucifer kept shushing you as more and more demons gathered, and then it was done. Your Fall was over. You were no longer an angel.

Your pain was still very much present and your wounds were still dripping, but you were now too weak to express your agony. You felt like fainting and you vaguely heard Lucifer encourage you not to resist it. So you didn't, and your head lolled against their chest.

By then, you were too confused to fully register anything that was happening but managed to grasp a few things nonetheless.

First, Lucifer's scent. You hadn't noticed it before, but it was probably the best thing that had ever hit your senses –warm, comforting, grounding, with faint notes of amber and burned incense, and undertones of hemlock.

Then you felt their regal arms move under your body and lift you off the ground with ease, mindful to support your head and avoid touching your back as much as they could.

Lucifer paused once they were standing as if silently presenting you to their court. At that moment, you heard swords clatter and vaguely noticed from the corner of your eye that it was Mazikeen who had let them fall. And then, as Lucifer slowly began walking towards their palace, carrying you like a bride, you heard more weapons hit the ground and saw the demons around you line up. Even the Damned seemed to have stopped screaming.

Heaven had watched you leave with a walk of shame; Hell welcomed you with a guard of honour.

You were already in and out of consciousness by the time Lucifer took you inside. You weren't sure where they had taken you but felt them lay you on a soft and warm mattress.

Still, the contact with your back and newly-grown wings hurt and made you wince and hiss.

"Lucifer…" you whimpered pitifully.

"We are right here. We are not leaving you."

"Lucifer…"

"We know."

You thought you felt fingers graze your forehead, but it could have very well been the fruit of your imagination. You were delirious and close to fainting again.

And thus you spent a great deal of the night and early morning between states of consciousness. Once, you woke up to feel Lucifer plump the pillow you rested on, only to immediately fall back asleep. Then you opened your eyes again and saw the Morningstar waiting with a bowl of warm broth, which you refused –that scene actually happened twice and you weren't sure in which order. Another time, you woke up screaming and crying once more, widely agitated, and Lucifer stopped you from hurting yourself any further and wiped your tears.

That went on for what seemed an eternity, and you weren't even sure how long had passed since your Fall. You were exhausted, and if Lucifer was, too, they didn't show it.

"Relax now," they whispered eventually, trying to lull you to sleep once and for all. "Even God rested on the seventh day."

You felt a strange pressure on your forehead, warm and delicate, but were unable to make out what it was. And already, you were falling into the deepest slumber you had ever known.

You had no idea how many hours had passed when you woke up next, and there was no way to know. Several, you guessed, because your back had finally stopped bleeding and you felt your new set of wings settling in. They hurt like… well, like Hell.

Sitting up in the bed painstakingly, you tried to recall what had happened since your Fall. You didn't remember much, except for Lucifer's gentle hands and soft gaze, always present each time you had come to.

But once you were completely seated, you realised the Lightbringer was nowhere to be seen this time. You felt a pang of disappointment as they had said they would not be leaving but understood. They still had a kingdom to rule, one that had just welcomed a new immortal denizen; they couldn't possibly stay at your bedside all day long.

You took the time to look around you. The bed first, enormous and soft as clouds, was draped in dark silks and woven blankets, with intricate embroidery glinting like stars across the fabric. The bedposts were made of polished obsidian, each carved with scenes that seemed to dance and shift as you looked at them –figures falling and rising, like the story of every Fallen etched in stone. Pillows in dark red, silver, and black were piled around you, catching the faint light and making the space feel safe.

You noticed the grand furnishing next: a firepit, burning with the same Hellfire that had almost killed you yesterday; shelves, carved directly in the black marble of the high walls and holding ancient artefacts, books bound in leather, and crystalline vials containing swirling mists and colours you had no names for.

As you took in the room's subdued opulence, it dawned on you. This was no ordinary guest chamber. This was Lucifer's own sanctuary. The idea that the Morningstar had brought you to the one place most private to them made your chest tighten.

Your eyes kept scanning the room, and then, noticing a full-length mirror inlaid with gemstones nearby, you decided to stand up and take a closer look at yourself.

It took all of your strength to extricate yourself from the bed and to cross the room without falling. Your muscles hurt and your wings seemed to have a different weight than before; you weren't sure how to stand.

When you finally managed to reach the mirror, you couldn't help but gasp at your reflection. Bruised, burnt here and there, covered in dried blood, you hardly recognised yourself. Your robes, once pristine white, were now ashy grey and tattered. They barely hung on by a thread and you guessed the only reason they had been left on your body was to give you a semblance of modesty.

Then of course the biggest change in your appearance was your wings. Black with a slight mahogany undertone when the light hit them right and leathery, they reminded you of Lucifer's, though you felt like you didn't sport them nearly as well as they did.

After looking at your reflection for a while, it began to look foreign, and you suddenly felt the need to glance down at your body as if to make sure that what the mirror showed was true. And it was. You had no idea what to make of the emotions this new truth stirred. You looked half-dead, felt half-alive.

Absorbed by your thoughts –or better yet, the lack thereof; you rather felt absorbed by the silence post-chaos in your mind–, you didn't hear the door opening behind you.

"You're awake."

Despite its softness, Lucifer's voice startled you, making you look up to meet their gaze through the mirror.

"We were not sure you would wake up any more today."

You looked down at yourself again, somewhat ashamed by your dishevelled appearance –you were truly in no fit condition to stand in the presence of your new sovereign. You were also ashamed of the scratch you had left on their face and that they still hadn't taken the time to heal as well as of the state you surely had left their previous tunic in.

But Lucifer didn't seem to mind. They knew what you were going through and had already seen you at your worst. When they spoke again, their voice sounded even softer and almost hesitant.

"We brought you some new clothes," they said, putting the garments down on a nearby hassock. "We have also had some ointment made. For your back. Your wounds are not of the kind that Our powers can heal."

The consideration made you smile, but sadness quickly took over. Lucifer had fallen first, crashing all alone into Hell, with no one to dry their tears or soothe their pain, hence why they knew exactly what you needed. The mere thought was enough to break your heart.

"Thank You, Lightbringer. The ruler of Hell must know my gratitude towards Them is infinite."

"Please…"

Had Lucifer's tone been any weaker, it would have become beseeching. Their plea made your heart clench even harder.

"Do not be so ceremonious. Not now."

"I merely wish to thank my Lord for Their benevolence."

Without even turning around, you felt Lucifer tense behind you.

"You are not Our subject," they retorted as if wanting to berate you for even thinking such a thing.

"Am I not?" you asked, your smile widening ever so slightly.

Lucifer didn't answer that. You weren't their subject. They had said so once and hated to repeat themself.

"We will call for a servant to tend to your wings," they said instead.

"I would rather not," you replied without missing a beat. Your wings, just like your heart, had been mistreated too much. You would never let a stranger touch them ever again.

There was a moment of silence and you wondered if Lucifer understood your underlying request or if they would leave you to get by on your own.

But then you heard the distinct sound of a jar being opened followed by footsteps, and Lucifer's reflection appeared in the mirror behind yours while the air around you filled with the scent of honey, yarrow, turmeric, and arnica.

"We need to…" Lucifer's voice trailed and you heard them swallow thickly.

You understood they didn't dare to move the shredded panel of cloth that covered the space between your wings, so you reached with difficulty over your shoulders and pulled the fabric yourself to reveal your back.

The sight made Lucifer's breath hitch no matter how hard they tried to prevent it. Not only did you hear it, but you also felt the warmth hitting the nape of your neck, and your hair immediately stood on end.

Neither of you dared to speak or look at each other through the mirror as Lucifer scooped a bit of healing balm on their fingers and started applying it to your wounds, at the base of your wings. They were being extremely careful and you could feel their hands tremble, proof that they were worried they would hurt you.

Finding comfort in their touch, you slightly leaned back to let them know it was alright. Not that you weren't in pain –you were, deeply. But the pain was somehow easier to deal with the closer you were to the Morningstar.

Again, Lucifer gasped quietly. Your gesture could be considered daring, and they were evidently unsure how to react. Yet, soon enough you felt their fingertips trailing up your wings, along your sore muscles. You shivered then and found yourself unable to tell if it was more from the pain or that unknown feeling sparkling inside your chest.

Regardless, the sudden movement brought Lucifer back to reality, and finally their voice broke the silence, barely a whisper.

"We… I am sorry."

At these words, you finally looked up at Lucifer's reflection. You knew what they were sorry for –for forgetting about etiquette and the customary distance they should have kept between you two; for causing you pain, just now as well as days ago; and most of all, for not finding a better way to save your life than causing your Fall.

But what surprised you the most was the change in pronouns. Like many monarchs would, Lucifer never said "I" unless they were in the presence of someone they trusted and the matter was personal. And as you looked at Lucifer through the mirror, at the way their eyes roamed on the expense of your wounded back and wings, you realised they had made your Fall personal. You were personal.

You remained silent for a while, feeling the warmth in your chest spread further down. And once you were certain your heart and mind agreed with one another, you replied in earnest.

"I'm not."

It was now Lucifer's turn to lift their head. Their eyes found yours in the mirror, so full of emotions, filling with hope as their chin quivered. They looked so vulnerable, and you finally understood what that unfamiliar feeling creeping through your body and burning your heart was, for you realised you had fallen twice this week.

Down to Hell.

And in love with Lucifer Morningstar.

Slowly, steered by pure instinct, you pulled on what was left of your angelic robes, tearing them off your body, and revealed yourself entirely to the ruler of Hell. Your eyes never let go of their reflection as you did so, waiting to see their reaction.

It was immediate, though not exactly everything you had hoped for. Indeed, Lucifer averted their eyes, staring at the ceiling in despair, and you figured they felt as lost as you were. Still, you mustered what little self-confidence you had left and insisted, turning around to encourage them to look at you and this shattered body you offered them.

It worked. Briefly. And then Lucifer looked away again.

"Why are you doing this?" they whimpered more than they asked. "What do you want?"

Their question was legitimate. After all, the last time Lucifer had got too close, you had rejected them.

Once again moved by forces beyond your understanding, you reached out with trembling hands to seize the lapels of their robes. Lucifer stiffened, their eyes widening slightly, but they didn't pull away.

"To worship the Devil," you said your voice suddenly dropping to a lower tone you had no idea you could reach.

And as you felt the weight of those words settle in the air between you, you used their robes for support, pulling yourself up and closer, your mouth now merely an inch from their ear.

"Show me how," you whispered then.

Lucifer's body tensed even more, and you could feel the subtle tremor in their frame. You pulled back, letting your nose slide along their cheek, the barest hint of contact, before your eyes met again. This time, Lucifer didn't look away. Their gaze locked onto yours, and you could see the storm of emotions swirling in their eyes –desire, uncertainty, restraint.

In fact, it seemed that Lucifer doubted that you were in full possession of your faculties. They knew all too well how traumatic the Fall could be and were worried that your sudden boldness came from confusion rather than genuine want. They did not want you to later feel used, nor did they want to get hurt.

But you saw their pupils dilating, and that gave you enough confidence to cup their jaw, your thumb just under their bottom lip as you let the tip of your nose poke their cheek and your lips hover over theirs, testing the waters. The touch was light, barely there, but enough to send a spark of electricity through your entire being and make that building heat in your chest drop down to your lower abdomen.

Lucifer decided to take a chance then and tentatively placed their lips on yours, without moving them at first. But that was all it took to make their wings shudder and spread violently, an involuntary reaction that betrayed their carefully guarded control. The sight of their wings trembling made your heart leap. It confirmed everything.

Lucifer wanted you.

Encouraged by this knowledge, you inhaled sharply and leaned in, pressing your body fully against theirs, seeking out more of that intoxicating closeness. This time, you kissed them with purpose, and Lucifer responded in kind, their lips moving against yours with growing urgency.

When you felt the tip of their tongue against your mouth, you realised you were unsure what to do, but decided to trust your instinct and parted your lips. Lucifer let you know that this was the right thing to do with a low, guttural growl that made your knees weak, and the kiss deepened, your tongues meeting in a slow, passionate dance.

Without parting, Lucifer crouched slightly to wrap their arms around your thighs and lift you up. A faint noise of surprise escaped your mouth, and your own wings unfurled before a smile came to grace your lips as you realised the Lightbringer was carrying you back to bed.

They laid you down carefully, as though you were something precious –deeply fragile, but desired beyond measure– and, inevitably, your gaze dropped to the expense of cleavage now revealed as gravity pulled their neckline down.

They sat up and your chest heaved in anticipation as you waited for them to undress. And when they did, the sight stole the air from your lungs. Devil or not, Lucifer remained the most beautiful creature the Lord had ever fashioned.

"Magnificent…" The word slipped out of your mouth before you had even finished forming the thought.

Lucifer smiled then. But their smile was not smug; the pride you had expected was instead replaced by relief as if Lucifer had been worried not to be to your liking and had needed the reassurance that somebody would want them not for their well-known ability to engage in lustful sins, but because they found genuine beauty in their body and soul. And you did.

Lucifer leaned forward, their gaze tender, studying every detail of your face as if they were seeing you for the first time. And they might as well be, for everything you once were was no more and you were like clay demanding to be shaped anew.

Lucifer's touch was gentle, reverent, patient, so much more than skin against skin –it felt as though their very presence was seeping into yours, filling the cracks Heaven had left in your soul, and you were suddenly not hurting any more. You surrendered entirely to the moment, and it was as if time held its breath, the Silver City and Hell themselves fading away, leaving only the two of you joined in a space beyond mere existence.

The world indeed seemed to stop and blur, the air thick with anticipation, yet there was no rush, only a shared understanding that the two of you were breaking through boundaries that neither angels nor demons knew could be abolished.

"Is this alright?" Lucifer asked with care, their mouth nibbling at your pulse point.

Barely able to form a coherent thought, you nodded eagerly, desperately pushing your body against theirs with need. So Lucifer's smile widened before they captured your lips once more and let their nails rake along your arms, all the way to your palms until their fingers intertwined with yours and they brought your hands above your head.

And then you felt it.

What the Morningstar was doing to you was not too dissimilar to the earthly act and yet so different. It was something boundless, woven from light and shadow, a union of energies that transcended flesh. It was everything you had ever needed and even more, and, as you cried out loudly, you clutched their hands, happy to have something to hold on to and keep you grounded as you felt yourself fly somewhere so high you feared falling again.

"Lucifer!"

"Shh… I have you."

Never once did you feel abandoned indeed. Lucifer kept guiding you with unwavering tenderness and patience, understanding that this moment was delicate for you, a once-in-a-lifetime offering.

The intensity of your connection deepened, tension building as pleasure overtook you both. You loved Lucifer. You loved them so much. And you craved to tell them. But perhaps was it too soon for such heartfelt confessions, you weren't sure, and you couldn't speak anyway –your mouth was too busy either dancing with Lucifer's or chanting how good they were making you feel.

Still wanting to convey your feelings, you soon let go of Lucifer's hands, your own finding their way to their back, their waist, their hips and, finally, their wings. Lucifer's head dropped forward and the low, shuddering groan they let out then only spurred you on. You moaned even louder, your hips still rolling to move with theirs in unison.

Panting heavily, Lucifer cradled your head to bring you even closer while their free hand started stroking your wings, still scared to hurt you but wanting to give you the same pleasure you were procuring them.

And then, most unexpectedly, as if understanding your unspoken desires and fears and wanting to answer them, the ruler of Hell spoke the most beautiful words you had ever heard.

"I love you."

The words undid you, a sudden flood of warmth filling every inch of your body as you began quivering all over. The bliss made your back arch and you felt as if light exploded within you and you could see stars.

You screamed Lucifer's name and they screamed yours as their release followed, your wings shuddering uncontrollably together as the sensation rippled through your bodies in waves that seemed never-ending.

And then, as the wave ebbed, you both lay there breathless, utterly content, feeling a new kind of completeness settle within you. Lucifer's forehead pressed gently against yours, their wings folding protectively around you.

Despite the sudden weakness overtaking you, you wrapped your arms around their strong torso and pulled them closer, urging them to let their body cover yours. They did, and you smiled as their weight anchored you to the mattress and helped the trembling subside.

"You delivered me from Evil, Lucifer Morningstar," you whispered before planting a kiss on their temple. "And I love you, too."

You had lost count of how many hours you and Lucifer had spent making love before falling asleep in each other's embrace. Now you were admiring their peaceful state as they rested next to you, their expression still somewhat worn out from the intensity of this week's events but content.

After a while, you quietly slipped out of bed, hoping not to wake them up as you walked towards the hassock where they had left new clothes for you earlier. You picked the vestment up and the corner of your lips twitched slightly upwards.

They were silk, in a beautiful gradient from crimson red to obsidian black, too elegant for you. But what actually made you smile was how comfortable they looked and how thoughtful Lucifer had been, choosing a halter top that would leave your wounded back bare of any fabric.

You put them with surprising ease now that the pain between your shoulder blades had turned into a dull discomfort and walked back to the mirror to take a look at your new self. The demon that stared back at you was already no longer a shadow of your former angelhood, but a vibrant embodiment of freedom and defiance. The weight of God's injunctions was gone, replaced by the warmth of self-acceptance. You were finally home, and this was who you were meant to be. For the first time in your long existence, you felt utterly proud.

As you let your hands wander on the fine silk, Lucifer's voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

"Luxury suits you."

Your cheeks blushed at their words and you pinched your lips while they rose to their feet in one smooth motion and joined you, still naked. They, too, were looking at you with pride –rare would be the angels to take the Fall so well and recover so quickly.

Letting their fingertips graze your scalp with adoration before cupping your cheeks, they spoke softly.

"All that is missing is a crown."

You blinked and slightly pulled back to look Lucifer in the eye, rather shocked by the implication.

"Lucifer, I–"

"It is better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven."

"So it is. But Lucifer, my whole life has been spent in servitude. I do not have the makings of a ruler."

"I disagree," Lucifer countered kindly, their voice like honey. "Do you believe I would have gone to Heaven for just anybody? That I would have negotiated with my brother and missed a chance at revenge with my Father for someone I deemed unworthy?"

"Perhaps not."

You lowered your head slightly, feeling somewhat guilty Lucifer had given up on the opportunity they had been offered for you. But Lucifer quickly placed a finger under your chin and lifted it. You were to keep your head up in pride at all times now, they would not let you bow any more.

"But… What about your subjects? Will they not think me illegitimate?"

"You are one of them now, one of us. Are you not?"

"Yes," you replied firmly. Your scars were proof of what you had once been. You were proud of them, proud to call yourself a demon.

"Then they shall accept you and respect you as such." Lucifer paused briefly to stroke your cheek. "Only perhaps are you more deserving, and they know it."

"How so?"

"Because you knew the horror that awaited you and still chose to fall. And not because you were fighting for somebody else's ideals, but for your own convictions. It is most honourable."

"Is it honourable to seek to redefine oneself, to pursue freedom and… love?"

"Yes."

You let Lucifer's words sink in for a moment, then turned back to the mirror. You had much to learn about your new self and as exhilarating as it was, it was also dizzying.

There was still something bothering you, though. But you weren't sure what, and it made you furrow your eyebrows. Lucifer sensed your confusion of course and, as if reading your mind better than yourself, they offered a solution to your issue.

"You can change your name. If you'd like. Heaven does not have any more grip on you."

The possibility of creating a new identity for yourself, building a new life and detaching yourself entirely from your celestial origins lifted an enormous weight off your shoulders and you let out a long, shaky sigh.

It was a difficult choice, one you needed to make with care, but it didn't need to be made today. You had all eternity, and perhaps, you mused, the name would come to you as naturally as the decision to fall had.

Lucifer smiled as they watched your features relax, and they wrapped their arms around your waist. In that simple, familiar gesture, you felt the weight of your new world settling comfortably.

"There is no hurry," they murmured, their voice low and reassuring. "A name is only one part of who you are. All the rest, your choices, your dreams, your hopes… those are already yours."

"I have a lot to learn," you stated as you turned around to face Lucifer again. "You will help me, will you not?"

"Fear not," Lucifer replied gently, their eyes softening. "In Hell, you are allowed to find yourself at your own pace, without expectations. And I shall be there for you, forever."

"An awfully long time…" you joked, your eyes shining almost mischievously, though your words were intended to make sure Lucifer understood you would not take such a promise lightly.

"Mmh. Eternity has a way of slipping past when one has purpose," Lucifer replied, their fingertips sliding along your left wing.

"And have you found it, your purpose?" you asked, pressing yourself to their front.

"Oh, yes. And in time, you shall find yours, too, in whatever form it may take."

"I think I already have."

You placed a hand on Lucifer's chest and leaned in. The gesture, coupled with the confession, made their heartbeat quicken and they smiled before closing the distance to capture your lips in a tender kiss.

When you broke it for air, you realised life in Hell had resumed its course. The demons had picked up their weapons and were fighting again, the Damned wept once more. Hellfire burnt and ashes fell from the sky.

Quietly, you turned to the balcony and crossed the room to observe this realm you could now call home, this kingdom that would soon be yours to rule, by Lucifer's side.

You had so many ideas already, impatient to fulfil your new role, to govern these damned souls, to welcome them in the afterlife, and help them grieve Heaven. You would help them and, in return, they would help you. Everything would be as it should have always been.

Lucifer joined you, placing their hand on the small of your back, and the two of you stood there, bound by something that felt ancient, inevitable, and yet entirely new as if this day had been waiting for you both since the beginning of time and even before that. You let the silence embrace you, neither of you needing to say anything more.

There would be a time for crowns and names, for ruling and discovering yourself and the full extent of your freedom. For now, you had all you needed.

And there was evening, and there was morning –the seventh day.

A/N: If you’re interested you can find the link to the playlist I used to write this fanfic here.

A/N 2: This has been a journey and feedback is so important! Please consider reblogging and leaving a comment –perhaps giving me some lines you really liked, or discussing the religious references you recognized or the ones you feel you didn’t understand. I would LOVE to talk about this work with you all.

[lilykatelyn-blog]

𝓓𝓪𝔂 1 - 𝓵.𝓶𝓱 - LILY’S KINKTOBER

Demon!Lee Know x AngelFem!Reader

theme: choking

pt. 2

genre: smut, ig fluff at the end? Idek.

warnings: ewb2l (enemies with benefits to lovers) choking, collars, reader has sensitive wings that can retract, penetration, monster cock, making out, fingering, drunk guy (for one second), references of Satan and the devil so if you are uncomfortable with that I would recommend not reading it, also they have telepathy??, Dom!Min, Sub!Reader, they’re both kinda switch towards the end of the smut scene, unsafe sex.

wc: 1.4k

MINORS DNI

smut under the cut

It’s been a while since you’ve last been to hell, or seen him. Every now and then when you were on earth, your brain would play tricks on you, making you think you saw him. Your human friends finally managed to drag you out of your apartment and into a club, full of drunkards and people looking for a good time. You just needed a few drinks and to unwind. “I’ll take a gin and tonic, on the rocks.” You told the bartender, he complied, making your order at the back while you waited. When he got back with your order, you heard a familiar voice order a familiar drink. “I’ll take a Manhattan, on the rocks.” He ordered, you tried to not turn around and look at him, opting to walk away, but his voice stopped you. “Long time no see, Angel.” You could practically hear the smirk in his voice, it made you wet and want to hurl at the same time. “Long time no see, jackass.” You replied, walking back towards him. “So, what you been up to? I hope you haven’t been sleeping around with anyone but me.” He asked, the last part making you pissed. “We’re not dating Lee.” You replied curtly, he simply smirked again. God, you wanted to slap that attractive smirk off of his extremely attractive face. “Oh, but you know if the big boss knew of what you did with me, you’d be removed. An ordinary human.” You tsked at the very obvious statement. “No shit, Sherlock. It was one time.” “It was 7 times that, darling.” He whispered in your ear, making you shudder. “See you, princess.” He grabbed his Manhattan and went to dance, leaving you speechless.

“So.. who was that hottie that you were talking to at the bar, huh?” Your friend nudged you after you got back with your drink. “It was no one, an old friend.” You lied, not thinking she would ask about schooling years. “Ooh! Primary or Secondary School?” “Neither. An old job, I quit it and haven’t seen him or kept in touch since.” They all went back to their own conversation after you explained it, you could practically feel Minho’s eyes burning holes in the back of your head. Meet me outside, princess. I own an apartment 2 blocks away. His voice rung in your head, you just agreed, knowing how this goes and that you will be back to strangers in no less than 12 hours.

“finally, you listen.” His annoying voice spoke from behind you as you exited the club. “Finally, you stop calling me ‘princess’.” You mock, his smirk returning. “I’ll never stop that habit, Angel. You should visit me down in hell sometime soon.” He winked, leading you into a cab. The entire ride, his hand was on your thigh, going up, only to go back to your knee. He was obviously riling you up, so you decided that two can play at that game. You slowly creeped your hand up his toned torso , and then his chest, and then his throat, lightly circling it as his breath hitched, only to bring it down to your lap. You got out, him paying and leading you to his apartment. As soon as he unlocked it, you were pressed against the door, his tongue being shoved down your throat. You moaned as he went down your jaw and neck, making sure not to leave any marks so that you could both keep your wings. “Bedroom,” you breathed, tugging his hair, he lifted you up, leading you to his bed. He sat down, making you straddle him, going back to your make out session. He pulled away, you chased his lips while pouting. “Hm, anyone ever been as good as me? Maybe that drunk guy that you ran away with for a few minutes?” He whispered, going back to his assault on your neck. “No-no one. I-I escorted him back to his car- Minho!” You choked out, throwing your head back as he found your sweet spot, mouthing at it for a few more seconds. “I want this off.” He tugged at your tight white shirt. You complied, letting him take it off of you, suddenly remembering you wore your black matching bra and panties set. “Shit.” He murmured, his mouth going straight to your chest, kissing them over the fabric while his other hand went to your other boob. “May I?” He asked, despite being a devil, still a gentleman. You nodded, giving silent confirmation. As soon as it was off, he went to your nipple, sucking harshly. “Nngh- please,” you whined, he just chuckled, pinching the other one. He pulled away despite your pleas, he silently asked to remove your skirt. You hummed, lifting your hips up for him to remove the garment. He pulled both your underwear and skirt down in one movement, flipping you onto your back.

he got in between your legs and spread your lips. “Beautiful..” he trailed off, giving a singular lick and then coming up to make you taste yourself. He sat on his knees, removing his shirt and revealing his beautiful abs and scars. Getting back over you, he kissed you again. While his tongue explored your mouth, you traced his abs and scars, the one that you kept coming back to was the one on his midriff, a result of a nasty encounter with his father before he became a demon. Finally, he pulled away and tugged his sweats down, leaving him in his boxers. He didn’t bother removing his jewelry, and walked over to the dresser, you got on your elbows and looked in confusion. “What-“ “it’s a collar, Angel. Chill, I’m not gonna leave you high and dry after how hard you got me.” He signaled to his huge cock, bigger than any dildo you’ve ever seen or felt.

“Wonder how you still have those beautiful white pearly wings after all we’ve done together, considering the wings are a sign of purity. I’d say your anything but after all we’ve done.” He went on as he fastened the collar around your neck. “Beautiful.. and it’s all mine.” He traced the collar around your neck, pushing you down. “Open your wings, gonna use them for your first orgasm.” He commanded, and obviously, you complied. Your wings were out and super sensitive as well, he slowly traced them with the tips of his fingers, resulting in a series of whimpers from you. His fingers circled your hole to prep you, only teasing, not going in. He had you distracted with your wings, taking you by surprise when his fingers pushed in and out at a brutal pace “Ah! Min-Minho!” You moaned, losing your ability to use your brain, the only coherent thing coming out of your mouth was pleas for him to keep going. Not long after your high, he took his fingers out and replaced them with his huge dick, only making your cries of his name speed up. He went at an ungodly pace, god, you were so close already that it was kinda embarrassing how quick he got you there. “Oh god, oh god, oh god- hnngh” your moans were soeeding up, as was your breath, your words got cut off by his tip hitting just the right spot. “Not god, baby. Lee Minho.” He whispered, getting you an intense amount closer to the edge. “I’m-“ “let it out for me, Angel.” That brought you over the edge, your orgasm hitting you like a boulder. “Shit, I’m close, getting close- mmph.” He started whining, his words interrupted by your hand shaking up his chest, squeezing his throat just hard enough to tip him over. “That’s it, Min. Let go..” you trailed off, feeling him spill into you. After he cleaned up and lay beside you, you both fell asleep in each others embrace.

The following morning, you woke up alone, to a note. Angel, I know you’re probably confused since I never leave, but I had to go to work for my ‘Human’ job. Do me a favor and stay, yeah? I’ll be back in a few hours, considering how late you wake up. I don’t have roommates and I still have a pair of your clothes from last time, either that or you can wear my button up and your panties, ya know, a little treat for when I get home? Anyways, stay there and here’s my cell: ***-***-****

P.S. I refrigerated breakfast, your favourite. Text me if you need anything, your dog was well fed before I left, so don’t worry. We’ll talk later, but you should consider moving in with me, at least until we have to go back. I love you! &lt;3

This is gonna be fun.

note: send an ask if you want a part 2 because I, myself, wanted to write a part 2 that isn’t part of kinktober. Also I’m sorry that this is kinda half assed Love you guys! <333

TAGLIST:

@aaasia111, @hgema, @obeythemasters, @imwithurmother, @unlikelysublimekryptonite, @virluna148, @sanzusfavgf, @ivyisnotokay, @stanskzsstuff, @luvkpopp

[the-kr8tor]

In Deep Water

Pairing: Pirate! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 8.7k

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader, CW vomit mention, CW Inaccurate medical procedures, CW injury, TW blood, CW violence, TW death, CW guns.

Between the Devil and the Sea Masterlist

Navigation

CHAPTER 7 >>> CHAPTER 8

The laughter gets louder as the source of it shows itself aboard the black hellion, the fog makes way like a curtain opening to start a performance.

Hobie's grip is tight, fingers weaved around your arm, bruisingly strong. Your nails dig into his flesh as the uniformed man tilts his head to look at you, his toothy yellowing grin thrown in your direction. His powdered white wig flutters in the breeze, medals glinting off the single lamp on the bow, hands resting on the pommel of his pristine sword. The angelic figure head is a stark contrast to the devil sneering down.

The blackened wood of his ship groans as it continues to break a part of the revenge. The sails unfurled behind him, blue wings fluttering in the wind.

The angel of death has come.

“Look at what we have here.” He clicks his tongue, eyes boring a hole through your skulls, he narrows them into slits, and like a snake, he slithers as close as he can, tethering close to the edge. There's a flash of emotion in his eyes, snarling, the navy man chuckles, the mere sound makes you want to cower. “Hello little birdy, now how far did you fly to get where you are now?”

Hobie clenches his jaw, stepping over to hide you from his view. His hand never leaves yours, the dull ache from his hold says that this isn't just a nightmare.

You want to wake up even if it means losing his hold on you.

“Oh where are my manners? Mummy would whip me if she ever knew I didn't introduce myself to a lady.”

Hobie shifts his weight, ready to pounce if need be. You grab his shirt, making sure he doesn't do anything drastic. Subtly flicking your eyes to the side, you see the crew do the same. They look at you with fear in their eyes, the hunter’s gazes illuminating their contorted faces.

You can't help but let out a shuddering breath, the sound echoing around the open waters, hoping to get your cry for help to somebody who can do something, anything to get you and everyone out to safety.

“My name's Captain Mathias Bradshaw.” He drawls, thin lips curling into a smirk. “This here is my little merry band of sailors who has a bone to pick with—” pointing at Hobie with his thick finger, white cosmetic smeared on his palms. “Him. The red hydra. I forgot to greet you yet, long time no see you rapscallion.”

You hear Hobie's shallow breathing. Grey eyes thundering, a storm brewing, lightning flowing through his veins. The only reason why he doesn't let himself loose on Mathias is your touch.

“You see here, sweetheart,” The man addresses you and you only. “For the past three years your so-called captain and I have had a bit of a tiff.” He chuckles coldly. “A rivalry of sorts.” He pauses, looking over his shoulder. “Is it still a rivalry if you're leagues above your rival?”

“No, sir.” A gruff voice says, hidden behind the mist.

Mathias turns back around. “Well, we got our answer then.”

Hobie sneakily murmurs to you. “Hide—”

“I'm not done talking!” The sudden outburst makes you jump in your skin.

“You should've been done with your senseless dialogue a long time ago.” Hobie straightens his posture, head held high, a picture of a pirate captain. “Come down here and fight like a fuckin' man, show me your flames and I'll show mine.”

The man scoffs, amusement in his green eyes. “Flames? Yours is barely a spark.”

Hobie scoffs. “Let's be done with it then. Get the closure we both want, fight me in single combat.” Mathias knits his brows, Hobie smirks. “No? Thought you were a gentleman, where's your fuckin' honour?”

A booming laugh replaces Mathias’ scowl. “I guess it died with your little red hair—”

Hobie lets go of you, drawing his gun, pointing it directly at the monster's head. The crew takes this as their cue, doing the same, pointing their weapons towards the men surrounding them.

There's hunger in his eyes, beneath the swirling grey there's a hunger waiting to be fed.

The enemy ships don't even aim their cannons at the revenge, instead they float still in the water, unmoving, the men aboard their ships smirk in your direction like you're being served to them on a silver platter. It's then you notice the sons of the sea’s ship is no more. They took the brunt of the hellion’s collision.

No longer their sails fly, their crow's nest and pieces of wood lay floating in dark waters.

Left behind, slowly drowning in the depths.

You feel droplets sliding on your cheeks, for a second you thought it's your tears. And then more and more of it comes pouring down, splashing on the wooden floorboards.

Thunder booms from a distance, lightning flashes in the sky, lighting everyone's scornful faces.

A few of Karl's men stand with Hobie, clutching their injuries. You don't see Robbie, his lack of presence makes you glare at the sneering men.

“Say her fuckin’ name.” Hobie says through gritted teeth. “After what you did— Say her name.”

“Eh.” Mathias shrugs, “I forgot.” the laughter of his men echoes in the mist.

“You fucker—!” Hobie's hand shakes despite this, he draws the golden gun, aiming it at the navy man whose smirk gets wider.

“I recognize that little blunderbuss.” He chuckles, wiggling his pointing finger, “She pointed that at my head too, you'll be unsuccessful just like she was.”

It takes every fiber inside Hobie to not just shoot and face the consequences later. But he's surrounded, his crew is surrounded, they have no chance of escaping death if he shoots. The only option he has is through single combat and to appeal to the man's ego. He's hoping the idea works.

One look over his shoulder, one glance at your trembling face and he's back to that day, the day MJ was lost. He prays that this day doesn't end the same way three years ago.

“Little dove,” Mathias’ devilish eyes roam over your trembling body. “Look at you,” he chuckles lowly, “I'd say dear ol' Hobie here got an upgrade just because this one's got her head still glued on her neck!”

Hobie almost shoots him until someone from his crew screams, their voice full of malice, venom dripping with every utterance.

“Fuck you!” Gwen exclaims, “Don't you have any honour? She's dead and you're still spitting on her watery grave! After everything you've put her through!”

“Ah! Gwen Stacy, the ballerina turned pirate. How you doin', miss Stacy? I heard your father's still down in the stables, trying to repay his debt to the crown.” he rags her on, scoffing.

“You're still defending her? She's a traitor, a navy spy. The greatest one we've ever had in fact. Her only downfall is loving a bunch of…” he sucks in his teeth, trying to find the word. “Thieves like you. Love got her head cut off and love will be your ruin too.” Flicking his eyes to you, he observes everyone's faces after his tirade.

Hobie steps between Gwen and Mathias, his guns still raised, eyes brimming with the anger of a forsaken God. Yet he remains calm, clearing his throat, standing tall.

“Mathias Bradshaw, I challenge you to single combat, a duel. I win, you let us go. You win and you get to take us all back to the capital.” Hobie's voice booms louder than the thunder above. Lightning strikes near, the water sizzles at the contact. “I know a man of your stature can't say no.”

The man in the uniform guffaws loudly, broad shoulders shaking. “Oh that's hilarious, you think you'd win against me, little pirate? Hmm?”

“Yes.” Hobie doesn't miss a beat.

Mathias smiles, “I guess this one's less messy than what I was planning. Name your terms.”

“Guns only, five bullets. You get shot three times you lose.”

“I'll add a tiny thing to your wager.” The navy man looks over to your direction, pointing his crooked finger at you. “Same terms but I get to keep your little bird.”

Hobie turns to you, wide eyes staring back at you. “No—” He's already shaking his head before you speak up.

“Deal!” You roar above the thunder storm, deciding your own fate. The rain is getting heavier, drenching your terrified self. “The captain will take your terms as long as you honour it.” Nodding to Hobie, he holsters his weapon away from you.

Mathias cackles in the background.

Gently holding on to your arm, you already know what he'll say.

“Don't. Do you know what you just agreed to?”

“I do,” you stare at his raging eyes but they're tender when he looks at you. “I know you can take him, I trust you.” Taking his hand away from your arm, you squeeze him once before pulling him towards you. “Don't play fair, because he won't.” you whisper. “Fucking obliterate him, for MJ.”

Hobie takes you in like it's the last thing he'll ever do. He imprints your touch in his mind, wanting to remember the softness of it when the bullets get too much for him to bear.

He nods slowly, still unsure of your decision. If you trust him enough to sell your soul then he'll fight to the death so you don't have to.

With one last look at you, he turns around, facing up to the man he loathes the most, wanting to just strangle him with his bare hands. Maybe he'll do just that.

For the crew.

Mathias takes his blue coat off, grinning the entire time.

For MJ.

He grabs on to a rope, rappelling off the black hellion, landing in a thunderous impact on the deck.

For you.

Now that he's leveled with your gaze, he's a lot smaller down on the deck, stout with a round belly, face painted with white lead that's currently melting in the downpour. Hobie's taller and slimmer but he makes up for it in his agility and speed. You've seen him fight but Mathias' form could be compared to Finn's build, all muscle and strength hidden behind his uniform.

You're glad this was a duel of pistols if it was any other fight Hobie could be in trouble.

A few of his men do the same, jumping off the hellion while the ones on the smaller ships stay on board but keeping their eyes peeled.

Surrounding the bloodsail pirates, the hands of Mathias' men never leave the pommels of their rapiers. Hobie clenches his jaw, now standing before the king's flame, he can't help but gaze behind the man, back to you and his crew.

Gwen goes to your side, lacing her trembling fingers through yours, Pav sidles behind you, clutching the back of your vest. Miles stands next to Gwen, holding her other hand. You see them look at eachother with a knowing glance and glimmering eyes.

Your eyes meet Hobie's, you give him a nod, eyes full of fury, and trembling lips. You mouth a ‘Bleed him dry’.

The simple act of Hobie smiling at you, makes you tear up. It's the same one he gives you after you patch him up, it's the same one when he handed you the hot chocolate. It's the same smile that makes your heart flutter in your chest.

You're afraid as you part with the crowd to the side of the duelists, lest you get caught in the crossfire. As the one in front, you get a good look at the enemy on the other side, all lined up perfectly like the obedient soldier men that they are. You roam your eyes to their faces, wondering how they could obey a man like Mathias.

You assume the uniformed man walking towards the duelists is Mathias' right hand man. Left eye covered in an eye patch, his hazel eyes observe you. He's carrying a large wooden box, pristine and smooth at the edges with golden locks and embellishments. He opens it with a creak, rain water landing on the wood and soaking the velvet inside.

“You're the challenger, you get the first pick.” Mathias gestures towards Hobie, all smiles like he's not about to meet the end of a bullet.

You stand on your tippy toes to take a peek inside. There are two dueling pistols, flintlocks. One white as fresh snow, one is black like the hellion.

Hobie takes his pick, pocketing what you assume is the five bullets. The black gun in his hand shines when a lightning strikes the mast of the hellion. You hear splintering wood in the distance.

He steps back in place, measuring the metal’s weight in his hand.

“Good choice.” Mathias eyes down the gun. “Death has touched that one.”

Hobie glares, baring his teeth. If only that was enough to kill the man before him.

Mathias takes the remaining gun, wiggling it in his hand. “You ready, little pirate?”

Hobie doesn't show an ounce of fear. “You're going to die today.”

“How confident, confidence alone won't help you aim straight.”

Your entire body shakes whilst they stand back to back, guns raised on their sides. They walk slowly, counting their steps.

The pouring rain doesn't help, raindrops obscuring your vision, the cold mixing in with the ice in your veins.

With every step Hobie takes,

Five

with every hit of his boots on the floorboards,

Four

your heart tries to escape,

Three

pulse hammering,

Two

threatening to give out. Afraid of what's to come. No one else dares to make a sound.

One

Standing end to end on the dock, they turn around swiftly.

After a beat, the man with the box yells. “Fire!”

Bang!

The sound echoes out in the dark, above all the rain and thunder.

Hobie hits his mark, Mathias groans, clutching his dominant shoulder. Smoke bellows out of their guns, dissolving into the rain.

Your words are repeating in Hobie's head ‘Don't play fair’ you say, then he won't play fair.

He notices his bleeding arm, looking down he sees the bullet nicked his skin, leaving an angry gash in its wake. The wood behind him gets the brunt of the bullet, the metal embedding inside, splintering a gaping hole.

You jump when Mathias laughs along the thunder. More and more lightning pierces the sky. You can taste iron in your mouth, not realizing the pain from biting the inside of your cheeks.

They reload, Mathias’ man observing with his watchful eye, making sure they both adhere to the rules; but you highly doubt he's doing it for fairness sake.

Metallic clanking, gunpowder clinking against steel, Mathias' voice enters the fray to your dismay.

“You know, you were too easy to fool.” He starts, finishing up his reload. “You never asked why I left my lieutenant in your hands and why was it so damn easy for you to get my travel documents.” Smiling, the lead on his face melts further, dripping on the floorboards, the white paint mixing in with his blood. “Just like I said, love will be your downfall.”

Hobie doesn't have enough time to squabble, instead he would let his aim talk for him.

“Twenty paces!” The eye patch man yells again.

Hobie and Mathias move forwards, getting closer and closer to each other. You want to put a stop to the duel, but you have to trust Hobie that he'll make it, that he'll win. He has to.

You dare not blink.

“Fire!”

Bang!

Hobie almost keels over, his shoulder heavily bleeds, trembling hand holding his flesh together. You see him smile underneath the pain, following his gaze, Mathias clutches his shooting hand, groaning and hissing. It looks like Hobie shot a hole right in the man's hand. The white gun lays on the bloodied floor, discarded.

Gwen's hold on you tightens, you can hear Pavitr sob quietly.

You catch Hobie's eyes. There's hope in the swirling grey, nodding, you encourage him, mouthing an ‘end it’. He seems to understand, straightening his stance, he reloads the gun as best as he can with an injured shoulder.

Mathias wheezes out a strained laugh. “I gotta hand it to you, your aim is pretty good.” He stands, grabbing his gun on the way up with his uninjured hand. “No matter how amazing your aim is, you're still bloody blind!” He screams, spit flying out of his mouth.

“My two bullets that's in you say otherwise.” Hobie tilts his head mockingly.

“No, no, no.” Mathias clicks his tongue, waving the gun wildly. “You still don't get it do you? You're not asking questions, letting everything fall into your lap, thinking God's on your side on your little revenge quest. But he's not,” he chuckles. “Sacrificing my lieutenant was the best decision I've ever made, especially knowing the fucker can absolutely sing. Loose lips sink ships, little pirate. Do remember that. Especially since you didn't seem to learn from it last time.”

Hobie's face falls, dread filling his chest.

“Bribing the governor to plant my travel documents and telling him to go unwind in a brothel for a couple of days was well worth my coin.” Mathias stretches his shoulder, reloading his pistol with bloodied hands.

He continues. “The two idiots at the gates were…well idiots, I barely had to do anything to them. The lock was a false security to make you sweat a little bit.” The king's flame proves himself. “You're blind. You've focused so much on taking me down that you didn't notice the little details. It's either that or you're also deaf, preferring not to hear your crew's concerns.”

“Not a very good attribute for a supposed captain.” he shrugs, he says his words mockingly.

“Fuck you!” Hobie aims directly at his rival's head.

It's all his fault, everything that led up to this point is his fault.

The gun trembles in his hold. Mathias looks pleased, smiling at Hobie.

“You know the rules.” Mathias sucks in his teeth. “Don't fire until lieutenant Dubois says so or I win and I get your little bird.” he looks over at you. “Oh we're gonna have so much fun together, every night, every day.” His laughter makes you want to grab the nearest knife and shove it down his throat.

You don't back down from his disgusting gaze. “If he doesn't kill you, I will.” Pavitr tries to hold you back. “And it won't be quick.” your voice shakes from sheer anger.

“I look forward to it, duchess.” Mathias spares you one last glance.

You don't notice how Hobie looks angrier than he did, he's clearly holding back. His glare alone could burn a hole through Mathias' skull. Yet he stands tall, getting a second wind; he's gonna shoot a hole in his skull instead.

His head goes a hundred knots per hour, thinking of all the what ifs. What if he just listened, what if he didn't let her stay, what if, what if, what if, the words are tattooed in his mind, clawing and biting at his psyche.

“Ten paces!”

They walk in sync, closer to each other more than ever. Pausing in place, they stare each other down, Mathias' smile never leaving his lips. Hobie's scowl gets deeper with every second that passes.

“Fire—!”

“Fuck this.” Mathias lunges in surprise, grappling Hobie.

Hobie doesn't get a chance to dodge, his gun clattering on the floor as the heavier man tackles him to the ground. The wet floors make it hard for Hobie to find leverage against Mathias who's currently choking him with his large arm.

Chaos ensues, everyone breaks the line, unsheathing their weapons, fighting, steel and skin clashing. Pistols going off left and right, but your main focus is on the two men writhing on the floor.

You hear Hobie choke so you run faster, taking a fallen dagger from a corpse, you quickly dodge people, determined to save Hobie.

“This is what happens when you let your feelings decide for you!” Mathias yells above the mayhem.

Finally making it close to them, in one swift movement, you stab Mathias on his back, crimson ebbs on his white shirt like spiderwebs. He screams, letting go of Hobie.

You don't spare him a glance as you take Hobie by his arm, dragging him below deck. Shutting the doors closed, Mathias bids you farewell with one last cackling.

Guiding him through the corridors, you hope the winding hallways help make it harder for the enemies to find you.

“Y/N.” He wheezes out.

“Don't fucking talk.” Your feet brings you to the galley. Sitting him down, he plops like a fish on the chair, head lolling to the side.

Slapping his cheek, he wakes back up with a groan. “Actually, keep talking. Stay awake, please.”

Hobie nods, “I need to go back up, I can't leave them there.” He tries to stand but your hands stop him, making him sit back down.

“You can't help in this state. Let me treat you then you can go and help.” You look in his pained eyes. “Please, at least let me help with your shoulder.” your other hand fumbles to his back, searching for an exit wound. You already know the answer when you feel the hot crimson weeping out from the puncture left behind.

You plead with your eyes.

“Alright, do what you have to do. Make it quick.” he nods, you leave his side to light a fire in the hearth, laying a metal poker on top of the hot coals. “Can I tell you a story?”

“Whatever keeps you awake.” Taking out the first aid kit from your bag, you notice your hands tremble. They never shake when you're treating someone, with your back turned away from him, you swallow down a sob.

“There was this girl, she had red hair like one of those…” he sighs, injuries aching, throat throbbing. “Apples.”

You reach his side once again, trembling fingers dipping into the wound ointment. “You have a way with words.”

He grabs your shaking hands in his, “Are you alright?”

You pause in your frantic movements, blinking rapidly. “Y-you’re the one who's bleeding right now.”

“You're shaking.”

You twist your wrists away from his touch. “I'm alright, worry about yourself and your crew.”

“You're a part of my crew”

“Shut– just…” you exhale. “Continue your story.”

Hobie nods, eyes drooping. “She just one day showed up on the docks, asking for a place.” He inhales sharply. “I needed to fill the second ship so I agreed, I let her in. I shouldn't have done it.” His eyes well up but no tears fall. “I should've turned her away but she was determined, she had the skills to stay— can you give me somethin’ for the pain? A fuckin' rum or wine, anythin’”

“No alcohol, if you want to bleed out be my guest.” You hold a cloth above his wound, pressing down to stop the bleeding as much as you can.

“Fucker!” He stomps his foot, “you can be such a little shit sometimes you know?”

You can hear the struggle upstairs. Weirdly enough, there's no sound of cannons firing.

“I know—” the ship tilts suddenly, flinging you and Hobie brutally to the side. You do your best to shield his injured self, taking the brunt of the impact, back stinging from the wall.

He lands on top of you, arms on your side, face hidden on the crook of your neck. You can feel his staggered breathing on your skin.

Bottles and pans fly towards you two. Pushing him away, you guide each other to the corner of the room, huddled together, protected by the hearth.

“Shit!” Hobie protects your head with his hand when a pot flies towards you. The ship keeps turning and tossing the both of you until it finally straightens out, you can feel how fast its going by how wild the utensils are swinging.

“Someone got hold of the helm.” He whispers, his cool hand on your tender shoulder. “We're running.” Hobie doesn't say it with pride or dejection, he utters it with embarrassment.

“That's good,” you stand up, giving him a helping hand. “We can get out—”

The unmistakable sound of a cannonball whizzes past and the ship lunges harshly on the side again. You can hear frantic yells from above.

Hobie takes your hand, “I need to get up there.”

Helping him up, you nod. “And you will, let me close that wound off and give you something for the pain and we'll go back up there.”

“Y/N, you can't—”

“We will go up there.” the fire in your eyes makes him obey. “Sit down, I'll make this quick but not painless.”

He flops down, masking the pain with a grimace. Inhaling, he continues. “I let MJ in.”

You pause for a second before taking the metal poker. “Even after seeing all the bloody signs.” He sighs. “Maybe I am blind.”

You hold his face tenderly. “You were, but you still have a chance to change that. You can still help your crew. Make it right for their sake.”

He holds the back of your neck, kneading the skin with his bloodied fingers. “I don't regret letting you stay.”

You look at him apologetically. “You will after this.” Shoving the leather pot holder in his mouth, moving aside his clothes. “Inhale” you place the hot poker directly on his bullet wound, cauterizing the gaping hole.

It sizzles, Hobie holds on to your sides tightly, bunching up the fabric in his hands. Muffled screams eaten up by the leather in his mouth.

You move the rod away once it's done. Hobie's eyes roll in the back of his head. Slapping him lightly, he wakes back up.

“Stay awake, hey. Look at me.” He stares at you through half-lidded eyes. “There you are, captain.” You smile to reassure him. He gives you a tired nod. “Now for the exit wound.”

Hobie inhales, more than ready this time around. His skin is clammy, eyes red from the brimming tears. He clenches his entire body, determined to get it over with. Twisting around in his seat, he hopes the ship doesn't rock as you push the searing metal poker on the back of his shoulder.

With a muffled yell from him, you take the tool away, letting it cool down. Moving his head with your hand, you look at him apologetically.

“I'm sorry, if I warned you first you would've flinched.”

Hobie spits the leather out of his mouth, patting your cheek with his sweaty hand, he leaves it there, stroking your skin.

“I wouldn't have flinched.” He chuckles through the searing pain.

“Of course you wouldn't.” You hold his hand that's on top of your cheek. “You did good.”

He laughs, hand leaving your skin to hold your hand instead. “Not the first time I've felt fire.”

You smile, without thinking, you lay your forehead on his as more cannonballs fly around the revenge.

“You did good too.” He whispers. Eyes closed, he leans away. “Now get me something for the pain and let's get the bastard.”

You smile, nodding to him. Taking a bottle from your bag, you rub mint oil on his upper lip, igniting his nerves, keeping him awake.

“That's the only thing I have that could help. I can't give you alcohol.”

Hobie tentatively stands up, “Maybe after this then.” He groans, slightly limping. “‘m gonna need an entire crate of ‘em.” he thinks adrenaline is enough to keep him on his feet.

He faces you, a ghost of a smile on his pained face. Hobie bends at the waist, you scramble to help him but he refuses with his hand raising to stop you. Taking something from inside his boot, he grabs a shiny and slender thing.

“Here.” Hobie hands a silver dagger to you, intricate carvings of a turtle and a sea snake looping around the glimmering handle. “Somethin’ to defend yourself.”

“Are you sure? It looks—”

“I don't mind givin’ it to you.” He closes your hand around the hilt. “Make sure this one hits his neck this time.”

“I will.” Your eyes fill with determination, adrenaline still coursing through you.

He wobbles towards the door, sparing you a smile on the way.

“Hobie,” you call after him. “Continue your story after this?”

“Only if you tell me yours.” He looks over his shoulder, giving you the same smile he always has.

You scoff with a small smile, “Maybe I will.”

“Let's fuckin’ go and be pirates then.”

—

Getting up the deck was tedious work with all the rocking and shifting from the ship and the wild waves, add that with all the cannon balls whizzing past, it was like riding an angry bull. Meeting halfway with Karl on the way there made it easier, filling your chest with hope.

“Where's Robbie?!” He frantically yells, forehead bleeding, hands gripping Hobie's vest.

“I-I don't know.” Karl's face falls. “But we'll find him, I know he got out.”

“Got out from what?” His voice trembles, “what happened, Hobie?”

Hobie holds his friend’s wrist, “I'm sorry.” Karl weeps. “Go find Robbie and your crew.” He shakes his head. “And get the hell out of here, he's after me not you.”

Karl's eyes fill with tears, flicking towards you who look on with sad eyes. “What about you and the others?”

“We'll find a way out. We always do, remember?” Hobie reassures him with a smile. “Take one of my dinghies, and row the hell out of here.” he takes Karl's hands away from his vest. “We'll see you back at the old place, yeah?”

“You fucking better, Hobart or I'll drown you myself.” Karl takes your hand briefly, nodding. “I hope I see you again, doc.”

“Me too, captain. Find Robbie.”

You part ways with Karl, praying that he finds Robbie and what remains of his men.

“Ready, trouble?” Hobie gets your attention by brushing his pinky against the back of your hand.

“I'm right behind you.”

—

It's war.

The moment Hobie opened the door to the deck you smell petrichor and blood in the air.

You get a glimpse of the battle before he could shut the doors. Bodies, both pirates and navy alike lay motionless on the floor. The sound of thunder mixes in with the pained yells, flashes of lightning illuminates the night sky and you see the faces of the dead clearly.

Two-fingers lay face first on the deck, arms bent at an angle, blood pooling from his head. Through the smoke and splintered wood, Foul screams when a sword plunges through his heart, silencing him immediately. Danny takes a bullet for Finn who promptly avenges him with his cutlass, swiftly separating the man's head from his body.

One face you were hoping was among the dead was missing. Mathias isn't on board.

Something flashes in his eyes when he looks at you. Grabbing your arm, he leans in, your heart stops.

Hobie moves past your head to press his forehead on your shoulder. Bathing in your presence, hand squeezing your skin

“Hobie?”

He smiles, moving his hand up to cup your jaw. Chuckling, he cleans his dried blood off your cheek with his thumb. “Do me a favour, Scuttlebutt?”

“What is it? We need to get up there!”

Hobie ignores you, leaning away. “Survive for me would you? Live, find your family. Promise me.” He sniffs, eyes glinting.

“What?”

“Just promise me, trouble.” He shakes you.

“Alright I promise. Can we—”

“I'm sorry.”

“What—?” Hobie pushes you hard, you fall off the steps, landing on your behind, he exits without looking back, shutting the doors closed. “What the fuck?!”

You rattle the doorknob but it's no use, he locked it on the outside. Frustrated, you try to kick in the door, hurting yourself from the hard wood.

“Fuck! Hobie!” You bang the door, peeking through the keyhole you see carnage as Hobie makes quick work of the remaining men. “Let me help!”

The sound of cannon balls going off almost deafens your eardrums. If only you had your lockpick you could open it.

Your lockpick.

It's a stretch but you still run towards your cabin, feet thudding loudly, echoing around the hallways that you've memorized.

You feel relieved after seeing your door. Shouldering it open, you frantically search for the metal on the shelves. The tip of it scratches your hand but you don't care, already bolting off towards the exit. Running off with your bag tied around you, hoping the medical kit inside is enough to treat the wounded, you hold the lockpick in your hand while you run.

Your hope dwindles with every cannon hitting the ship.

Doors whizz past, ankle stinging, the sounds of screams and gunfire makes you sprint faster.

You don't notice the blood soaked hulking man leaving Hobie's cabin.

Running into him, you stagger, tumbling down, heart falling into your stomach as he looks down at you through his nose.

“Hello there.”

Scrambling to get to your feet, you slide under his legs, stabbing his achilles heel with your lockpick. The man screams in agony, you take the opportunity to sprint like you've never ran before. You'd take running away from O’hara any day.

Your lungs scream for you to stop, but you go on as you hear thundering stomping behind you.

There's no exit and you can't run forever.

The metallic click rings behind you, rounding the corner, you barely dodge the bullet aimed at you, nicking your hip.

“Shit!” You almost fall yet you continue on, entering the library, you shut the doors behind you, locking it swiftly.

Lifting your hand away, the sight of your own blood turns your fear into fury. With your trembling hands, you unsheathe the dagger from your belt.

You have a promise to keep, and you never break a promise.

Hiding behind the armchair you always sat on, you crouch down, gripping the dagger, ready to strike like a viper in the sand.

You look back on what she taught you, “Strike fast and hit hard. Don't give them a chance to get back up.” her voice whispers it to you and you intend to follow it.

The door bursts open, splintering the wood to a thousand pieces.

“The captain wants you alive, little birdy. This doesn't have to hurt if you just come with me, eh?” You hear him chuckle lowly, blatantly lying to you.

His heavy footsteps thud closer.

You use the shadows as your guide, the oil lamp left open on the corner table does the work. For once you thank Gwen for forgetting to close the light.

“I can help with your wound. Glue your wings back together again” he whistles. “The red hydra can't help you with that but I can. I'm a surgeon you see.” Getting closer and closer, you time your strike right.

You come out of your hiding place with a battle cry. Still crouches down, “I highly doubt that!” Slicing his tendons in one quick movement. The second he falls to his knees, you stab him in the neck.

Stepping back, he chokes in his own blood. With wide eyes you flinch when he stands, seemingly unaffected but his shaking pupils say otherwise. With a garbled noise from your assailant, he reaches for you.

“What the fuck?!”

With a split second decision, you dodge his hands, moving backwards, throwing books from the shelves which bounce almost harmlessly on his head and body.

There's a loud thrumming sound outside, its warbling is almost mechanical but definitely something an animal could've made.

He heard it too, pausing in his movement for a second before he lunged towards you. With a scream, your back against the corner, he jumps you.

Your head hits the wall in an ugly crunch, seeing stars, sliding down the wall, landing on the floor, he chokes you with his bare hands. Indistinct noises escape from his mouth, your dagger nowhere to be found in his throat. His entire body hides anything in front of you, drowning your vision, filling it with your murderer. His blood drips down on your face, almost drowning you in it.

You know he's running on fumes but based on your vision fading, lungs gasping for air, you think you'd go out first before him.

Hands grazing something metallic on the floor next to you, you inch your fingers towards it. Finally finding your grip, you smack it on his head.

You've got a promise to keep after all.

He yells, the oil from the lamp spreading on his skin and clothes, engulfing him in flames.

You frantically roll away, killing the fire clinging to your clothes until there's nothing left but burned cloth.

The flames light up the entire room in orange and reds, the paper around him helps feed the fire as he tries to desperately put it out.

There's that thrumming again.

You watch on, holding your tender neck. Your face is flat, eyes reflecting the fire that's quickly eating at the man. Fabric burns on his flesh, flesh turns into charred muscle, the fire eats at that too until he falls, silence hanging in the room except for the fire cackling, ashes and flames surrounding his corpse.

You stand up, ratty shoes stepping over fire to grab the fallen dagger with a thick cloth from your bag.

For a second you stand amidst the fire.

The thrumming outside and the warmth wakes you up, flames licking at your clothes, it's heat scorching your skin, nose filling with smoke. Even with all the pain you still escape with your life, determined to keep your promise.

Running outside the former library, the cracking of splintering wood fills your ears, you instinctively dodge, backing away before the mast of the revenge falls on your head.

Shielding your face, you cower. The mast stills, sharp wood lay next to your feet. Tentatively opening your eyes, the sounds from above are clearer in your ears, all the screams and guns going off, you hear it loud and clear that you can decipher whose screams belong to whom.

The fog enters below deck through the gaping hole left by the broken mast. All the while, the smoke from the library rises up, replacing the mist.

Your exit.

You don't hesitate to climb up. Jagged edges of sharp wood rip amd snag your clothes, stabbing your skin. Finding leverage, you manage to prop yourself up on the deck, meeting face to face with a lifeless Ned.

The light in his eyes is gone, unsung music escaping from his open lips. Skin dirtied by flowing ichor.

You don't hear anything else other than skin meeting skin in a brutal dance.

“No.” You quickly jump up, leaving the fire behind you to consume, to devour what's left of the revenge. “Ned?”

Desperately feeling for a pulse, your heart wretches in your throat, saliva filling your mouth, bile rising up from your gut.

There's no pulse.

With a choked sob, you close his eyes for him. The sound of wet punching makes you turn to your side. Hobie's eyes are wild, vicious and desperate, bloodied knuckles pummeling the man under him. Skin broken, nose cracked, skull open for the world to see. Yet, Hobie doesn't stop even with the obvious signs of death. Fueled by rage, he paints the wooden floorboards with the man's brain.

It all feels sickenly real, your heart is still beating in sync with his punches but there's so much death around you that you feel like you're a part of the dead. Blood and smoke filling your senses, adrenaline slowly washed away like the tides.

You're sitting in a graveyard and nobody else has noticed.

“Hobie.”

His fists pound harshly through the man's head, splintered wood now embedded in his skin.

You apprehensively crawl towards him, your various injuries aching, blood seeping out from your hip. The chaos around you still continues on while he still doesn't stop.

“Hobie—” your fingers brush his arm, he flinches back, fist raised to knock you out. But he halts, knuckles kissing the tip of your nose, painting it with crimson.

With wide eyes, he heaves, muscles tensed, grief all over his expression. You shove your fear down, holding his raised knuckles, moving it away gently. You hold his face in your other hand, smearing the fresh ichor on his cheeks, staining your own skin.

“It's done, he's dead.” You nod, caressing his face, turning it away from the carnage below him. “Hobie,” you unclench his fist carefully, shattered bone and hair sticking to him. With a shallow breath, you let the tears flow on your cheeks. “He's dead.”

His face flashes with fury only to be triumphed over by misery. With a heavy heart, he nods.

Behind Hobie, a uniformed man raises his pistol, without a second thought, you take the golden blunderbuss from his waist, hastily aiming it directly at the man's head.

Your ears ring, the smoke from the gun blinds you for a second before you see your target fall dead with a bullet right between his eyes, blood splattering like fireworks from his head.

Hobie looks at you in surprise, taking his gun away from you carefully. Hands soft on your raised skin. He pats your cheek and you could only shake your head.

“We need to—” the ship collides with something, Hobie holds you close, covering you away from debris. With his embrace, he protects you. Scarred hand on the back of your head, face hiding in the crook of your neck. Leather, sea salt and blood invades your senses.

The hellion is once again looming over the revenge, its golden façade cracking under the damage made by Hobie's ship.

Mathias shows himself, looking worse for wear, he wobbles on two feet, clutching his injuries.

You hear footsteps around you, raising your head, eyes widening at what's left of the crew, they stand behind you and Hobie. Wiping blood off their faces, reloading their guns, sharpening their swords. The red sails of the people's revenge still fly above, more than ready to take what they're owed, no matter what it takes.

Gwen's blond hair is dipped in ruby red, hands tight around her blunderbuss. Miles wipes his face clean, stepping next to Gwen with clenched jaw. Pavitr stands directly behind you, face covered in what you hoped to be someone else's blood. He nods, reassuring you.

Yuri and James take one look at Ned, their expression alone could make you weep again. Finn, crouches down next to you, nodding wordlessly, blue eyes glossy.

Hobie exhales, with shaky legs he stands up, helping you back to your feet. Gripping your knife, you scowl at the man above.

“How cute. The power of friendship isn't enough to save you.” Mathias says through gritted teeth.

The rest of his crew arrives, there's less ships than before, proving how the bloodsail pirates is a force to be reckoned with. They have what Mathias doesn't have, giving them something worth fighting for.

Mathias nods, signaling his ship to turn their cannons towards you and your family.

You step in front of Hobie. “I have a proposition!” Yelling above the rain and metallic clanking, you push away Hobie's hand from your shoulder.

“What is it?” The man rolls his eyes, looking incredibly bored. “We can't be here all night.”

“Me,” the crew voices their concerns, Hobie takes your hand, face terrified.

You smile, “it's alright.” Whispering to him and the crew only. With tearful eyes, you turn back to the devil above. “You seem like you really want me, so fucking take me instead. Let them go.”

You feel the heat beneath your feet. The fire devours everything just a few feet below you.

They all yell your name behind you. Protests fill your ears but you choose to ignore them. You feel his calloused fingers squeeze your hand.

The man guffaws, “Holy shit! You like them that much?” He observes Hobie's contorted face.

“You like her that much?” He chuckles. “You know what? I don't even want you that much, sure, get on up here, birdy!”

There's that thrumming and warbling again. It's much clearer now that you're above, it seems like it's coming from beneath the ship.

“Come here and take me then!” The rain mixes in with your salty tears. Raising your arms, shoving everyone away, you taunt him. “But let them go or I'll plunge this dagger through your eye!”

“Christ, you're as insane as him. Perfect for eachother eh?” he sighs, gesturing for his cannons to cease. “I'm already satisfied even though a few of your men escaped from a dinghy but eh, I'm sure I'll get them soon enough. Just like how I'll get you one day, little pirate. I'm a very patient man, I'll wait three more years if I have to.”

Hobie's face is full of anguish when he swivels you around to look at him. “Don't fuckin' do this. He won't keep his word,” he flicks his eyes to Mathias, then back to you, grey eyes darker than before. “the moment you step foot on that ship he'll kill you.” his mind comes back to that fateful day.

He can't let that happen again, not to you.

You look at him softly. “I know, but I'll make it hard for him, that'll give you enough time to escape. Hobie, I have nothing else, just this.” swallowing the lump in your throat, there's heat under your eyes. Taking his hand, you squeeze it once. “Let me do this, for you and for them. You still have to get your revenge so let me do this. Don't let him win.”

“You promised.” His voice cracks.

“I don't think I can keep it now.” You flick your eyes behind him, the crew looks on with grief marring their eyes. “They're too young for this, Gwen, Pav and Miles, they deserve to live too.”

You hear the rope fall from the hellion's deck. “I'm glad I got stuck in that net even though you made me walk the plank.” chuckling through the tears, you give them your best smile to remember you by.

“Don't leave.” he pleads.

Sliding your hand away, you take one last look at them, making a sketch of their faces in your mind to remember when the inevitable happens.

“I have to go now or this won't work.”

The captain has no plan on how to fix it, how to fix everything, and he beats himself bloody for it.

Turning around, with every step you take feels heavier than the last. You make amends to her in your mind, praying that it reaches back home. You also thank her, but you don't regret running away that day.

You'll never know what lies for you up north or if there's someone there waiting for you. If there is someone, you apologize to them too.

You leave traces of yourself to the people behind you with the hope you live on through those pieces. That at least they won't forget your name.

The howling wind and rain whips at your drenched form, committing the feel of it to memory.

Grabbing the rope, you fight the urge to look behind.

“Hurry up, birdy!” Mathias cackles. “Come on then—!”

The thrumming is deafening, everything seems to freeze mid motion.

Giant mounds of flesh rise up from the water. Snake-like features curl above, rising to the heavens, cutting through the grey clouds.

You can't help but be mesmerized by the beauty of it. Iridescent scales glimmer against the lightning, cracked scales teeming in gold. the lightning bolts ricochet off their scaly skin, unharmed.

More serpents appear from the depths, towers of scaled flesh. They rain sea water from above, dripping from their massive bodies.

One curls just above the hellion, opening its eyes, revealing an entire ocean in its orbs.

You can't stop looking at it, petrified.

“Dragons.” You say in awe.

“Y/N!” Hobie races towards you. His hand brushes against your shirt, so close yet so far.

You get yanked up with the hellion, grip still frozen on the ropes. Holding on for life, the beast has curled around the ship, in your peripheral you see men jumping off, splashing down into the depths, taking their chances in the cold.

Facing the creature, they trill and thrum, crushing the hellion and the navy ships in their massive jaws and swirling flesh.

You wake up from the trance they had you in, almost losing your grip off the rope.

“No!” You screech, saving yourself, arm socket straining against your weight. Twirling the rope around your hand, you tie it just like how they taught you.

Palms burning on the hemp, looking down, you're hanging high above the revenge. You watch as the crew frantically unties a dinghy while Hobie and Finn stay behind, they're too far for you to make out what they're doing.

Your only chance is to jump in the water but you know that'll be the end of you.

Water parts for something swimming fast under the water, it moves towards the Revenge. You scream their names in an attempt to warn them.

“Gwen!” Your throat struggles from the screaming. “Brace yourselves!”

The serpent crashes on the starboard side, away from where the small boat hangs. Hobie clings to the remaining mast, knife in his hand. Heart pounding, you watch as Gwen runs towards Hobie, he yells, she shakes her head but in the end she bolts for the dinghy. You nod, hoping she saw that you forgave her.

The beast constricts around the helion, crashing the oak and its gilded carvings in its wrapped body.

You sway in the wind with the serpent’s movements, praying that the rope hangs on to the figure head. The figure head of an angel looks down at you, lifeless eyes observing your slow demise.

This is the end for you, you've never thought you'd be killed by a mythical being turned into reality but here you are, hanging on by a thread, waiting for death to come.

With one last glimpse at the revenge, you see the fire finally reaching above deck. Gwen and the others lower down on the dinghy while Hobie grabs onto a rope, cutting the knot off the steel rings, remembering James' teachings, if he keeps doing that he’ll get yanked up, and with the wild wind, it will surely be a disaster.

You yell his name in a futile attempt to stop his effort at saving you.

Finn raises something in his hands, heaving it over his shoulder.

You sharply turn your head when a snapping sound fills your ears. The hemp untangles, with the rope breaking in the middle, you close your eyes.

The sea serpent lets out a guttural scream, the sound alone sends shivers down your spine. It uncurls around the hellion and you get a glimpse of a sharp harpoon sticking out from its eye.

Falling with the hellion, the serpent's eyes turn from blue to a bloody red, bathing everything in its gaze in crimson. it's the last thing you see before you shut your eyes.

You feel a familiar arm around your middle, looking over your shoulder, you think you've already died.

“I've got you!” Hobie yells, with him carrying you and his hand grasping on the rising rope, he struggles to hold on.

So you help him, wrapping your arm behind him, you hold the rope in the other, face close to his as you two fly above the revenge, swinging and whipping uncontrollably in the storm.

The beast trills, jaw unhinging, its rows of shark like teeth in full display.

“Shit!” Hobie manipulates the rope to swing you two away from its sharp teeth.

It fails to catch you, instead it turns its attention to Finn on the deck.

“Finn! Run!” Your blood curdling scream gets his attention, yet he pays no heed.

But everyone already knows it's too late, with one last fight in him, he raises his harpoon, yelling, meeting the serpent's opened mouth halfway.

It swallows him whole.

You just stare at where Finn once stood, he leaves patches of his ichor on the floor.

The revenge sinks, fire and water engulfing Hobie's home, your home.

“Love!” The name rots in his mouth, it gets you out of your frozen state. “I—”

The last standing mast cracks and breaks apart. You lose your grip on Hobie.

And you fall once again. For a second you fly, eyes peering towards the clearing sky, with white clouds in your vision, you brace for impact.

“MJ!”

That's the last thing you hear as you fall in the depths in a harsh splash.

A/N: so sorry for the late update!! Hope you like it 🫶 (if i forgot to put any warnings on the tags please tell me)

[animeredhead101]

Dad Phantom DP x DC Crossover

Completed

Bask in Our Cosmic Insignificance by DisillusionedDanny :

After Lady Gotham sends a lost and alone King Phantom to check on a little boy Danny Fenton finds himself the new guardian "angel" of a six year old boy. Tim Drake. Word Count: 33,632

The Devil Wore a T-Shirt by DisillusionedDanny :

After a one-night stand, Danny finds himself pregnant with Red Hood's kid. Now he finds himself as a dad to a small child with an important decision to make. Does he tell Red Hood he has a child? Or does Danny raise the kid by himself?

Word Count: 24,778

Who's Old Now? by LiraBuswavi :

“Am I your dad!!?” Billy shouted. Danny paused. Took a deep breath in and out before turning to him. “I’m gonna need you to back up, and explain. Please.” Or, what happens when a twelve year old masquerading as an adult superhero calls his guardian, an adult who can also turn into a child superhero, on speaker phone, in front of the Justice League. Word Count: 36,017

Of All the Things My Hands Have Held by DisillusionedDanny :

Upon learning that her son is in a relationship, Talia decides to create a clone to gift to her son as a gift to celebrate finally settling down. Now Damian and Danny are stuck trying to figure out how to raise a baby when neither of them had the best examples growing up.

Word Count: 17,066

Mourning a Young Soul Leads to Shared Custody by Olive_of_Vanders :

Danny was given a choice. Become King or parent a ghost kid. Ghost kid sounded a lot more easier to him. Word Count: 41,929

It's Not Sugar by ConspiracyCrows :

Ellie is destabilized and nearly killed by Vlad while trying to make another, "better", clone of Danny. In order to stabilize her she was de-aged to about 7, and now has chronic issues balancing her ecto the same way a type one diabetic has issues balancing blood sugars. In fact that's the cover story the pair use when Danny enrolls Ellie at Gotham Academy. The one favor he will allow Vlad to do for them. While Vlad seems to have finally come to his senses about Ellie, Danny won't let him anywhere near her ever again. Which is why they moved to Gotham in the first place, Vlad won't step foot there. It also helps that Lady Gotham is more than happy to have the Realms' Ambassador to the Living in her streets. They settle into Crime Alley, and Danny may or may not have forgotten to introduce himself to the Haunt owner, assuming Gotham would handle the niceties as he gets Ellie settled, and handles the pressing issues of the negotiations between the city, the realms, and those denizens of both who want or need one thing or other.

Word Count: 23,052

On-going

Deadly Assumptions and Their Consequences by Silver_star_06 :

The Justice league believes that Phantom is Captain Marvel‘s dad and tells the hero to summon him to help them with Darkseid. They weren’t expecting the cryptic eldridge being to start hanging around the watch tower. Danny couldn’t help but feel a kinship with the pre-teen that ended up as the current Captain Marvel. A scrappy black haired and blue eyed child vigilante, that only became one because of circumstance. Danny was going to help this child whether he wanted it or not. Word Count: 25,977

My Dad is Dead to Me by GhostInGotham :

John Constantine was fourteen when he set his house on fire. John Constantine was fourteen when he realized his father was still inside. Word Count: 19,573

Phantoms and Foes by Zylev :

Krypton was dying long before it exploded. After a lab accident at 14 gave Danny ice powers, he used them for good to try and stop crime as the first hero of Krypton. But when thousands of years of mining the core of Krypton finally caught up to the planet, General Zod evacuated Krypton to the Phantom Zone before it exploded. Little did Zod know he led the Kryptonians to a slaughter. Years later, Danny is the only Kryptonian left alive when Kal-El finds the Phantom Projector and brings him to Earth. Danny must now adjust to having new powers and life on a planet that is completely different than Krypton and the Phantom Zone. Word Count: 121,723

The Human Prince of Ghosts by AceFace98 :

Danny has been King for a few centuries now, but he's still half-ghost, immortal or not. So every now and again, Clockwork likes to kick him out of the Realms to go play human for a decade or two. It's usually pretty boring. This time, though, he meets a small child with a camera and a lot of pointed questions and immediately has Dad Instincts about it. Word Count: 65,300

Phantom's Progenies by Makuro767 :

progeny /ˈprɒdʒɪni/ noun plural noun: progenies a descendant or the descendants of a person, animal, or plant; offspring. A drabble collections of Danny Phantom as the father to several kids that are both his and clones of him from several different realities. Fluff with doses of trauma. ~ If you think you can write a full story from each drabble, be my guest. Word Count: 79,111 This is a HUGE multi-crossover fic FYI