#(and look i tried to do lighting and a background!

[daisymbin]

Hello hope you're having a good day! If you are still taking requests I love the idea of fluff 27 + suggestive 5 together! Reader doing/saying it to best boy Mingyu please <3

hello!!! I am & yes yes omg this is so cute!!! thank you for requesting 🤍

request your own: full prompt list!

check out my masterlist! // gyu's m.list

fluff prompt #27: "did you plan this whole day just to make me happy?" +

suggestive prompt #5: "is that your way of asking me to stay the night?"

mingyu doesn’t think he deserves a day like this.

he’s been feeling a little off lately, the kind of off where his brain works too hard to convince him he’s not enough. not good enough for his members, his fans, and definitely not good enough for you. he hadn’t told you any of this, of course, because what kind of boyfriend lays that weight on someone else? but somehow, you just knew. you always did.

you’d planned the entire day down to the last detail—every moment overflowing with warmth and ease.

his favorite breakfast, eaten slowly at the cozy café he’d shyly confessed to loving on your third date. an afternoon hike where you teased him for tripping over his own feet and then held his hand the rest of the way up. dinner on the balcony of your apartment, fairy lights strung above as the city glittered in the background.

he sits now with you on that balcony, your legs tangled under the small blanket you’d pulled out when the air turned cooler. you’re leaning back against him, his arms wrapped loosely around your waist. the scent of your shampoo drifts up every time the wind catches your hair, and mingyu thinks it’s the happiest he’s felt in weeks.

he kisses the top of your head, unable to stop himself from smiling.

“did you plan this whole day just to make me happy?”

you tilt your head up to look at him, your lips quirking in that way that makes his heart stumble over itself.

“maybe.”

“you did,” he says, a little breathless, tightening his arms around you. “you totally did. how do you even—how do you know what i need without me saying anything?”

“you think i don’t notice when you’re not yourself?” you reply softly. “i know you, mingyu. it’s not that hard to figure out.”

mingyu blinks down at you, his chest aching in the best way possible. you’re looking at him like you’re proud of him, like you see every part of him—even the parts he’s tried to hide—and love him anyway.

he leans down to kiss you, slow and deliberate, his fingers slipping into your hair as he cups the back of your head. you hum against his mouth, the sound sending a shiver down his spine. when you pull back, there’s a teasing glint in your eye.

“i hope you’re planning to return the favor someday,” you say.

“someday?” he scoffs, brushing his thumb across your cheek. “as if i don’t spend every day trying to make you happy.”

“you’re sweet,” you murmur, your voice dropping just enough to make his pulse skip. “but i think you’re overestimating yourself.”

mingyu’s jaw drops. “overestimating—are you serious? you’re lucky i don’t pick you up and throw you over my shoulder.”

“you wouldn’t dare.”

his grin widens, and you laugh, leaning forward just enough to press a quick kiss to his jaw. your lips linger there for a moment, and mingyu’s thoughts scatter like leaves in the wind.

when you pull back again, there’s something playful in your expression, but it’s layered with a warmth that makes his heart race.

“so,” you say casually, brushing nonexistent lint off his sweater, before settling your hands around the back of his neck, "you don’t have to go home tonight if you don’t want to."

mingyu freezes.

he can feel your eyes on him, waiting for a reaction, but his brain seems to be short-circuiting.

you tilt your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. “what? too subtle?” you tease.

his throat feels dry, but he manages to swallow and find his voice. “is that—” he pauses, his lips quirking despite himself. “is that your way of asking me to stay the night?”

you roll your eyes, but the blush creeping up your neck betrays you. “do you have to say it like that?” you complained.

“me?” mingyu grins, leaning closer so his nose brushes against yours. “you’re the one who—wait, are you blushing right now?”

“no,” you say, but your voice wavers just enough to make him laugh.

“you totally are.” his grin softens, and he reaches up to gently cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your heated skin. “you’re cute, you know that?”

“shut up,” you mutter, but your lips curve upward as you lean into his touch.

for a moment, mingyu just looks at you. the city lights reflect in your eyes, and he thinks it’s entirely unfair how beautiful you are.

“okay,” he says quietly.

you blink up at him. “okay?”

“yeah,” he murmurs, his hand slipping to the back of your neck as he kisses you again.

you hum against his lips, your hands sliding up his chest to rest on his shoulders. he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to the way you touch him, so soft and careful, like you’re holding something precious.

when you finally pull back, your forehead rests against his, and you’re smiling in that way that makes him want to promise you the world.

mingyu laughs, his breath warm against your skin. “you know, i’m starting to think you planned this whole day for more than just making me happy.”

you pull back slightly to meet his gaze, your eyebrows raised in mock offense. “are you accusing me of ulterior motives?”

“maybe,” he teases, his hands sliding to rest on your waist.

you smirk, your fingers tracing absent patterns on his chest. “guess you’ll have to stick around and find out.”

his heart stumbles again, and he wonders how he got so lucky.

“oh, i’m not going anywhere,” he says, his voice low and certain.

mingyu doesn't move though, his eyes trained on you, taking in the way the wind blows in your hair, the way your cheeks are still tinted pink, and the way your eyes keep flickering between his own & his lips.

“what are you doing?” you ask softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“looking at you,” he murmurs, his tone low, like he doesn’t want to scare the moment away. his hand comes up to brush a stray strand of hair away from your face, his fingertips lingering against your cheek. “you're so beautiful”

your breath catchesnas you pull mingyu him, his lips meet yours slowly, like he’s memorizing every detail—the softness, the warmth, the way you gasp softly against his mouth. his hands cradle your face, holding you gently but firmly, as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go.

you don’t know who moves first, but suddenly you’re closer, pressed against him, your fingers curling into his sweater. his lips part slightly, and the kiss deepens, sending a shiver down your spine. mingyu tilts his head, his thumb brushing your jaw as he kisses you like he’s been waiting for this forever.

it’s not just a kiss—it’s consuming. the world around you fades until it’s just him. the faint scent of his cologne, the way his chest rises and falls against yours, the soft hum he lets out when your fingers tangle in his hair.

he pulls back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his breath warm and unsteady.

“you’re dangerous,” he says softly, his lips brushing yours with each word.

“me?” you manage to whisper, your own voice shaky. “what does that make you, then?”

he smirks, his eyes dark with something that sends your heart racing. “completely yours.”

before you can respond, his lips find yours again, hungrier this time. his hands slide down to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer, and you can feel the heat radiating off him. he kisses you like he needs you, like he doesn’t know how to stop, and you’re not sure you want him to.

your hands trail up his chest, slipping over his shoulders and around his neck, and the sound he makes when your nails scrape lightly against his skin sends warmth pooling in your stomach.

he breaks away just long enough to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth, then your jaw, then the sensitive spot just below your ear. “you’re gonna be the death of me,” he murmurs, his voice low and breathless.

you laugh softly, tugging him back to you. “then don’t stop.”

& mingyu doesn’t.

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Championship love

Heyy guys, I hope you enjoy this Max one-shot inspired by him winning the championship for the fourth time !!

If you want to read more stories of mine here's my masterlist.

You've been by Max's side for as long as you can remember. Teenagers with wild dreams and even wilder hearts, you both grew up together—through the awkward phases, the endless karting weekends, and the late-night phone calls where he shared his hopes of making it big in Formula 1. And he did. You’ve celebrated every step of his journey, but nothing compares to how you’ve marked each of his world championships together.

2011: The first time Max won the championship, it felt surreal. You were in Abu Dhabi, tears streaming down your face as he crossed the finish line and screamed over the radio. That night, back in the hotel room, it was just the two of you. Max was exhausted but glowing with pride, the trophy on the bedside table. He pulled you into his lap and kissed you like it was the first time, whispering, “This is just the beginning.”

2022: His second championship was no less thrilling. Max insisted on celebrating at home in Monaco, just the two of you again. He cooked you dinner—well, tried to. Half-burnt pasta and wine turned into laughter and slow dancing in the kitchen. He held you close, murmuring, “I couldn’t have done this without you.” You knew he meant it.

2023: The third title was chaotic—Sprint race in Qatar. But later that night, back at the motorhome, Max pulled you aside. His team was celebrating loudly in the background, but his focus was entirely on you. “Three-time world champion,” he said, smirking. “But being yours is still my favorite title.”

And now, here you are in Las Vegas. Max’s fourth championship.

The moment he crosses the line, you can barely hear the roar of the crowd over your own cheering. Your chest swells with pride as the fireworks explode over the track. It feels like a culmination of everything you’ve built together—his hard work, your unwavering support, and the love that’s only grown stronger with time.

Later that night, the team throws a party in one of the grand casinos. The celebration is lavish, the energy electric, but Max never lets go of your hand. Every so often, he leans down to kiss your temple or whispers something only for you to hear. He’s glowing, but there’s something else in his eyes—a secret, maybe, or anticipation.

Hours later, he whisks you away from the crowd, leading you to the rooftop of your hotel. The view is breathtaking—Las Vegas glittering like a sea of stars, a warm breeze wrapping around you both. You laugh, spinning to face him. “What are we doing up here?”

Max looks at you, his blue eyes soft and steady. He takes your hands in his, thumbs brushing over your knuckles. “I wanted to end this night with just us,” he says. “Like we always do.”

Your heart swells. “You’re getting sentimental, Verstappen.”

He chuckles but doesn’t look away. “I have a good reason.”

Before you can ask what he means, Max drops to one knee.

Time stops.

Your breath catches as he pulls a small velvet box from his pocket. “You’ve been with me through everything—every win, every loss, every moment in between. I can’t imagine doing this without you. I don’t want to do this without you.” He opens the box, revealing a stunning ring that glitters even brighter than the city lights. “Will you marry me?”

Tears blur your vision as you nod frantically, a smile breaking across your face. “Yes,” you whisper, your voice cracking. “Of course, yes.”

Max stands, slipping the ring onto your finger before pulling you into his arms. The kiss you share feels like every dream you’ve ever had coming true.

“You just made this the best championship celebration ever,” you say against his lips.

He grins, pressing his forehead to yours. “I think this one’s my favorite too.”

Under the Vegas sky, with the world at your feet, you know this moment is just the beginning of a lifetime of celebrations—together.

[pitchsidestories]

the grinch II Laura Freigang x Reader

masterlist | word count: 1661

summary: Laura's in a festive mood already, reader isn’t, but maybe a visit at the Christmas market in Frankfurt can change that.

author's note: dear readers, we hope you'll like the black cat x golden retriever dynamic in this oneshot.💕

Your Friday nights were sacred to you.

While other people went out, you waited all week to stay inside and cozy up on your couch. After long hours at work, it was the perfect way to relax.

You let yourself fall onto the sofa, pulling your feet in under yourself and grabbing the remote.

It was just you, the movie you were about to pick out and… your girlfriend hanging up Christmas lights right above the TV.

You silently glared at her back but she continued adjusting the decorations while singing to herself: “All I want for Christmas is youuuuu, baby!”

She turned towards you, pretending to hold microphone in one hand and pointing at you with the other.

You blinked at her, forcing yourself to not grab the nearest pillow and throw it at her: “What is wrong with you? It’s way too early for that!”

It was still November and you were pretty grateful for that. You weren’t the biggest fan of Christmas. In contrast to your girlfriend who shook her head with a patient smile: “Nope. The first Christmas markets are open in Frankfurt and you and me will go there tonight with my team.“

The urge to smack a pillow in her face grew with every word but you stayed strong.

“No.“, you said simply but determined.

Laura sat next to you on the sofa, blinking at you with innocent eyes: “Come on, Liebling. You work so hard, you deserve to enjoy yourself from time to time too.“

“I wanted to enjoy myself by staying in and watching Netflix.“, you groaned.

“Please join us.“ She gave you her best puppy eyes and pulled her lips into a little pout.

It was cute but you really didn’t want to go.

You sighed: “Why? I don’t even like Christmas.“

“Liebling, the girls would love to see you again. And I love to brag about my amazing, talented girl.“, Laura grinned, coming closer and closer until her nose touched your neck. She carefully placed a kiss to your jaw.

You rolled your eyes and pushed her off: “You can’t sweet-talk me into going.“

Finally, she gave in and pushed herself off the sofa: “Okay, fine. I’ll get ready then.“

“Wait… you’re going alone?”, you asked.

“I won’t force you to come with me.“, Laura shrugged before heading to the bedroom.

You knew exactly what that meant. You could either let her go alone or you had to join her. So essentially she did force you.

“God, I hate you.“, you groaned as you finally turned off the TV and got up.

“No, you love me.“, Laura replied through the closed door.

“You’re lucky I do.“, you grumbled while you slipped into your warmest clothes.

When Laura returned in her puffer jacket and saw you pull on your boots, she asked excitedly: “Does that mean you’ll join us?”

“Do I have a choice?”, you sighed.

“I mean you do but…“, the rest of her reply was muted by the thick scarf she wrapped around herself in that moment.

You shrugged into your winter coat and reluctantly ushered her out of your shared apartment: “Don’t. Just go already, I don’t have all night.“

The scent of roasted almonds, cinnamon and gingerbread was the first thing you both noticed once you entered the Christmas market. The old townhouses including the town hall were looking like pieces of a winter children’s book and yet the Frankfurt skyline was shining in the background.

The mix of old and new was always there and something your girlfriend found so exciting she tried to capture it with her camera. For a second you tried to see the scenery through her blue eyes which sparkled like the fairy lights surrounding her.

With a big smile on her face, she waved at her teammates. “Hi girls!”

“Hey, you two.”, Sara grinned.

“You already got mulled wine without us?!”, Laura exclaimed.

“Don’t worry, we got some for you two.”, Barbara reassured the striker.

“Thanks, Baba.”, you replied, thankful for the hot drink warming your cold hands.

“You’re welcome.”, the Austrian replied.

“The Misses Grinch here didn’t want to leave the house at first, can you believe that?”, your girlfriend asked teasingly.

“And miss out on the Christmas market?”, Sophia shook her head in disbelief.

Grumpily you thought to yourself, wait until you all have 9 to 5 jobs.

“Yes, she said it’s too early to be in the mood for Christmas.”, Laura went on smirking.

“It’s.”, you protested.

“No, it’s never too early for that.”, Sara disagreed lifting her dog Peanut who was wearing a sweater with Christmas trees printed on it.

“Of course it’s.”, you grumbled. It was November, no one in the office you worked was in the festive mood because there was still too much work at the end of the year to do.

“Lau, you were right, your girlfriend is the grinch.”, Nicole observed amusedly.

“I told you.”, Laura answered.

“More Glühwein?”, Barbara offered.

“Please.”, you muttered, glad for the alcohol as well as for the warm company which you wouldn’t admit it to your girlfriend. The Austrian and you were the one getting the drinks for everyone, so you had missed a bit of the conversation. You couldn’t believe your ears what you heard next.

“Oh, my girl invests into women’s sport now by the way.”, Laura told her teammates in a proud tone.

“That’s great!”, Sara commented enthusiastically.

All the eyes of the football players were now on you, their attention made you blush even harder.

“Yeah, I mean it’s something different to my usual investments.”, you responded nervously.

“You’re making the right decision. Women’s sport is booming everywhere.”, Barbara promised.

“I still need her help for my side projects though.”, Laura winked at you before leaning into you. Even though they took a lot of her and your time, first the photo book and then her own clothing line. She was the creative head, and you were the one turning her ideas into actual products which could be sold and profitable.

“Yes, I’ll be there for that. But can we maybe stop talking about work?”, you requested.

“Of course. I’m just so proud of you.”, your girlfriend beamed at you, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Oh.”

“Cuties.”, Elisa hummed.

Was this the true spirit of Christmas or did the mulled wine finally kicked in?

Suddenly acutely aware of your girlfriends’ teammates watching, you cleared your throat and announced: “I’ll come to your game on Sunday by the way.“

“You will?”, Laura grinned excitedly.

“Yes, babe.“, you confirmed with a single nod.

“That’s amazing!”

Her lips were suddenly on yours, kissing longingly. You could taste sting of alcohol from the mulled wine on her breath.

You pulled away with heated cheeks: “I promised you that I would come to your next game.“

“What about another hat-trick, Laura? To celebrate her making an appearance.“, Sara joked, elbowing her teammate in the side.

“We’ll see. I will try my best.“, Laura winked.

You laughed lightly: “No pressure.“

“I’ll score at least one for you.“, she promised happily.

You stifled a laugh. Apparently the mulled wine had already gotten to her. “That’s very sweet of you.“

“While we’re at sweet… Do you want some chocolate covered strawberries?“, Laura smoothly changed the topic.

Only the thought of them, almost made you drool. You might not like Christmas markets but you had a weakness for the variety of chocolate fruits they sell there.

“I do. You know I love them.“

Laura smiled mischievously: “I do know what.“

“We should get some and then we need to go home before you are fully drunk.“, you joked, pointing at the mug she was holding.

Laura looked at you with raised eyebrows: “I’m not drunk, you’re drunk.“

“Uhu sure, love.“, you rolled your eyes, even though you couldn’t deny that you felt the alcohol.

“Just admit that you both had too much and go!”, Sara interrupted jokingly.

“Incredibly rude, Sara!”, Laura protested but her teammate just retorted with a casual shrug.

“It’s the truth.“

“Let’s just get the strawberries and leave, Lau. Bye, girls.“ You took Lauras hand and dragged her along as you waved goodbye to the rest of her team.

“Bye, see you on Sunday!”, Barbara called after you.

With your chocolate strawberries and some almonds for Laura, you went back home. With a sigh of relief, you kicked off your shoes and hung up your jacket.

“And? Wasn’t that bad after all, right Liebling?”

“It was… okay.“, you shrugged.

“Only okay?!”, Laura echoed, pretending to be offended.

You let yourself fall onto your spot on the sofa that you only reluctantly left earlier that evening.

“Well, it wasn’t as bad without you here.“, you admitted slowly.

A satisfied smile appeared on your girlfriends face: “I take that as a compliment.“

“You can.“

Sitting down next to you, she quickly kissed your cheek: “Thanks for coming with me. I had a lot of fun.“

“I could tell. You loved the Christmas market.“, you grinned back at her.

“Yes but don’t worry, I’ll always love you more.“, she winked.

You silently shook your head about her until Laura suddenly bursted into another Christmas song: “I don’t want a lot for Christmas, there is just one thing I need…“

Groaning, you let your head fall back: “Lau, I love you and I enjoyed the Christmas market tonight but it’s still way too early!”

Laura blinked at you innocently: “Says who?”

“Me!”

“Then stop me from singing.“, she teased.

“Come here.“ Without hesitation, you pulled her in for a passionate kiss that was enough to take Lauras breath away.

Maybe you didn’t like Christmas as much as Laura, but you loved the way her eyes lit up at the sight of the Christmas lights and how her nose and cheeks turned pink from the cold. Maybe she was worth visiting overcrowded Christmas markets and listening to stupid Christmas songs in November.

if you enjoyed this story reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated !

[the-palelady]

hi sirinn 💕

it’s been a rough week. was wondering’ if i could request some soft simon? maybe helping his so through a tough time?

love you bunches, hope you’re taking care of yourself!

i feel like this week has been rough for a lot of people. i hope you're resting, staying hydrated, and just taking care of yourself dear. i believe in you and so does simon of course ♡

you seemed to always hold a level head. it was rare for simon to see you falter, if at all. there was always a smile spread wide across your face, the apples of your cheeks pink, a sparkle in your eyes. your laughs would echo throughout your shared home whether it be from something simon had said, or something that you saw on the telly.

but today was not one of those days.

there was no sparkle in those eyes of yours, replaced with a tiredness that left dark bags under your eyes. you were slow moving when waking that morning, not putting much effort into your hair, and grabbing the first thing you found in your closet. your outfit was mismatched with khaki pants and a weird yellow blouse that simon had never seen you wear outside of the house.

your lips sat in a thin line, unmoving as you silently floated about your home like a phantom. there was no noise even as you packed your lunch for the day; not a peep as you slipped your shoes on and stepped out of the house.

and the second you left, simon got to work.

he knew you too well to know that you were just "fine", a word he had expected you to say if he had even dared approach you about the topic. he saw it in the way you slid along the house, slower than a snail as you got ready for work. he saw it in the dull look in your eyes, far too tired to even look up at him and whisper a simple "good morning".

it was late when you returned home. a later night than normal.

stepping inside of your home, you slipped off your shoes, placing them by the front door with a sigh, peeling away your armor piece by piece as you walked towards the living room.

you were met with the sight of a vase of flowers sitting front and center on the coffee table. white lilies to be exact. the smell of detergent hit your nostrils, and you noticed how clean the couch cushions looked from where you stood. the pillows were fluffed and placed in their respected corners.

the wood floors shined from being swept and mopped, reflecting the soft glow of the overhead light. the tv played one of your favorite shows that you always turned on when you wanted some background noise or needed comfort. the bookshelves beside the entertainment center had clearly been dusted, yours and simon's books organized in alphabetical order. just how you liked them.

the subtle scent of garlic hit your senses after a moment, the smell and a voice breaking you from your thoughts.

"welcome home, love."

your widened eyes darted up to meet simon's pools of amber. the corner of his lips were upturned in a slight smile, one meant only for you.

"hungry?"

your mouth opened and closed as you tried to speak, but nothing came out.

truthfully, you were shocked. simon did do chores around the house. he was fairly organized, clean, a simple man who didn't own too much. he always kept his space tidy. but sometimes things got out of hand, and lately it had been hard for you to keep up with the mess. your workload had been tripled. you had personal issues going on in your life that were difficult to discuss, even to simon.

over the course of a few weeks, you felt like you had been backed into a corner. alone and afraid. it seemed like the world had caved in around you, dragging you into a dark abyss that you felt stuck in.

yet despite that darkness there was a light that shined through, and he stood right in front of you, flour dusting his pale cheeks and an apron much too small for him wrapped around his waist.

your lips quivered. your eyes watered so quickly you couldn't hold back the tears that broke through the dam you had built over time.

but before the tears could break through, simon was at your side, wrapping you in the warmth of his body.

you were stubborn. you were independent, believing you could handle anything that came at you alone. however, right now you had to admit to yourself that you did need a shoulder to lean on. even for just a moment. so you leaned into simon's sturdy chest, letting your tears fall freely after all the time you had kept them bottled up.

"shh, love. don't worry. i'm 'ere."

he wiped at your tears. his warm hands glided along the crown of your head, flattening out the strands of hair that had grown messy throughout the day. you were sure you looked a fright, but simon seemed to care less.

"'m sorry," you hiccupped, tears staining his t-shirt.

"the hell ya sorry for, angel?"

"i-i-i shouldn't be crying o-o-over something so st—"

"'nough of that, yeah?" his gruff voice cut you off, but there was no maliciousness behind it. he loosened his grip on you, looking down into your teary eyes with an expression you had never seen from him.

"sometimes we 'ave bad days. everyone. myself included. we can't act strong all the time. s'alright ta need a shoulder ta lean on. ya don't need ta handle this alone. ya always there for everyone. always takin' the punches for everyone else. now let someone else take those punches, hm?

you felt your bottom lip wobble again, and when you didn't say anything simon hummed, his head tilting closer towards you.

"s'alright to cry. doesn't make ya weak. only proves that ya human. so let out those tears, dove. i'll hold ya until there's not a single drop left."

[estellesdoll]

Hii can you do a Matt Sturniolo imagine where like the reader (us) is Eminem’s daughter and they like meet at an event and are like super into each other but they Matt doesn’t find out we’re eminems daughter until a little bit later. Please and thank you <3

∿ 𝜗 𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝜚 ﹐

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: At an event, Y/n, Eminem’s daughter, meets Matt while picking a drink. They connect easily, and when Matt learns who she is, he treats her like anyone else. By the end of the night, there's a spark between them, hinting at something special.

𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒅 : yes

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: older!matt x fem!reader | Eminem's daughter

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: fluff, mentions of alcohol consumption

𝒘. 𝒄.: 3.1k

𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔: I hope you like it! 🎀🤍 It's my first request, and I'm pretty nervous! SEND ME MORE REQUESTS, AND IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST, LEAVE A COMMENT ON THE POST:

౨ৎ𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 | ౨ৎ𝒏𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒈𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 |

| ౨ৎ𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 | ౨ৎ𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕

The event was in full swing, a sea of people gathered in the extravagant venue. The lights flickered in sync with the beats of the music, and the air was thick with excitement. But, as always, you tried your best to stay in the background, away from the spotlight that seemed to follow you wherever you went. After all, being Eminem's daughter wasn’t always as glamorous as people made it out to be. Tonight was no exception, your goal was to enjoy the night without drawing too much attention.

You bit your lip as you read over the menu for what felt like the tenth time. A Tommy’s Margarita? A Negroni? You had no idea what the difference was between them, and the last thing you wanted was to look completely out of place by ordering something that tasted awful. You loved a good drink, but you weren’t exactly a cocktail expert. You shifted on your feet, trying to decide, and that’s when you heard a voice next to you.

“Having trouble deciding?” he asked, his voice light and friendly, with a hint of curiosity.

You blinked, trying to shake the feeling that you knew him from somewhere. Maybe a friend of a friend? Or just someone you’d seen in passing? You didn’t know, but his face definitely wasn’t unfamiliar. Maybe you had seen him in a video or an Instagram post? He had that vibe, someone you might come across on a popular account. You couldn’t quite place it, but there was something about him that felt so familiar.

“Yeah,” you admitted with a small laugh. “I’m a little lost here. I was thinking of getting a Tommy’s Margarita or a Negroni, but I don’t even know what the difference is.”

He glanced at the menu, his smile not fading. “Ah, well, the Tommy’s Margarita’s actually a pretty straightforward drink. It’s just tequila, lime juice, and agave. No triple sec like a regular margarita. It’s refreshing—tart, but not too sweet.”

You nodded slowly, trying to absorb the information. “So, it’s like a cleaner version of a regular one?”

“Exactly,” he said, his eyes twinkling as he spoke. “It’s pretty smooth, too, so it’s a good choice if you’re looking for something light and easy to sip on.”

You felt a little more confident now, but your attention still wavered between the drinks on the menu. “And the Negroni? What’s that one like?”

He chuckled softly, as though amused by the contrast in choices you were considering. “A Negroni is, uh... definitely more of an acquired taste,” he explained, his voice gentle and patient. “It’s gin, vermouth rosso, and Campari. It’s very bitter—herbal, strong. Not something I’d recommend if you want something refreshing.”

You wrinkled your nose at the thought of something so bitter. “Yeah, I think I’ll pass on that one. Not feeling the bitter vibe tonight.”

He laughed, a warm, easy sound. “Smart move. The last thing you want is to be stuck with something you can’t even enjoy. You want something light, right?”

You nodded, relieved that he was guiding you through the options without any judgment. You were starting to feel more at ease in this conversation, even though you couldn’t quite shake the nagging feeling that you knew him from somewhere.

“Well, in that case,” he continued, his gaze still on the menu, “the Tommy’s Margarita is definitely your best bet. It’s the kind of drink that goes down easy and doesn’t make you regret your choices later.”

You chuckled, appreciating the reassurance. “Okay, I’ll go with that. One Tommy’s Margarita, please,” you said, feeling like you could actually get through the night without too much embarrassment.

He grinned, clearly pleased with your choice. “Good pick. You won’t regret it.”

As the bartender started preparing your drink, you turned to face him again, feeling like the conversation had flowed so easily. There was something about him that made you feel comfortable, as if talking to him was just... natural. Still, you couldn’t help but wonder where you knew him from.

The more you thought about it, the more his face seemed familiar. Maybe you’d seen him on social media, or in a video—he had that type of presence that made you feel like you’d come across him online before. It was like a faint memory that was just out of reach.

“So, are you new to cocktails, or just trying something different tonight?” he asked casually, his voice relaxed.

You laughed, feeling the lightness of the moment. “I’m more of a wine or beer person. But, you know, fancy night and all that. Figured I should try something new.”

He nodded in understanding. “I get it. Sometimes the fancy drinks aren’t just about the taste. They’re about the experience, right?”

“Exactly!” you said, warming to the conversation. “It’s like, why not try something new while we’re here?”

“Right,” he agreed, his voice softening. “Life’s too short to play it safe all the time. Gotta make the night memorable.”

You smiled, feeling a little more connected to him. There was something about the way he spoke—so laid-back, so easy to talk to—that made the whole event feel less overwhelming. Maybe you had made the right choice coming here tonight after all.

“Plus,” he added with a teasing grin, “if the drink ends up being terrible, we can just blame it on the drink and call it a learning experience.”

You laughed, and the bartender slid your Tommy’s Margarita toward you. You picked it up, raising your glass toward him. “Well, I’ll just blame you if it doesn’t taste good.”

Matt raised his own drink, his eyes locking with yours as he smiled. “You can blame me all you want. I’ll take the hit.”

You both clinked glasses, and you took a sip of your drink. It was perfect—tart, refreshing, exactly what you needed. You smiled at Matt over the rim of your glass, feeling a little lighter now that you’d figured out what to drink.

“This is really good,” you said, your smile genuine.

He grinned, pleased with your reaction. “Told you. You made the right choice.”

For a moment, you just stood there, both sipping your drinks and enjoying the quiet comfort of each other’s company. The event felt a little less like a formal gathering and more like just two people getting to know each other.

"So, are you always this good at making cocktail recommendations?" you teased, a small smile curling at your lips. "Or is this just a one-time thing?"

Matt chuckled, his eyes lighting up as they met yours. "I’m just a guy who knows his drinks. But I think I’m also pretty good at reading the room," he said with a playful glint in his eye.

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the confidence in his voice. "Oh really?" you asked, leaning in slightly, just enough to make the space between you feel charged. "And what does that say about me?"

He took a small step closer, his gaze never leaving yours. "It says you’re someone who appreciates a good recommendation—and someone who knows how to enjoy themselves when they’re out," he said, his voice lowering slightly, as if the words were meant only for you.

You smiled, the compliment making your pulse quicken a bit. There was an undeniable energy between you two now, something that made the rest of the world blur out of focus for a moment. "I like the sound of that," you murmured, feeling a little bolder now that the conversation was leaning into something more intimate.

Matt’s lips curved into a grin, his gaze softening just a touch. "Good, because I’m just getting started," he replied, his tone warm, yet there was a challenge in it, like he was daring you to keep up.

Your heart fluttered, the playful back-and-forth making everything feel more thrilling. The connection between you was undeniable now, and you could tell he was just as drawn to you as you were to him. The night felt suddenly filled with possibilities, and the conversation was only just beginning.

"So, what’s next?" you asked, your voice soft but curious, wondering where this would lead.

Matt leaned in just slightly, his voice quieter. "Whatever you’re up for. I’m all about keeping things interesting."

You couldn’t help but smile, the tension between you two building with every passing moment. The night had just begun, but you already felt like it was turning into something unforgettable.

As the conversation continued, the easy chemistry between you two only grew. You felt yourself relaxing, laughing more easily with him. There was something so natural about the way he spoke, like he was genuinely interested in getting to know you for who you were—not just as someone famous, but as you.

He leaned in a little closer, his eyes locking with yours as he asked, “So, you never told me your name…”

You hesitated for a moment, feeling the subtle shift in the air. "It’s Y/n," you replied, your voice soft, not fully sure what kind of reaction he might have. "But, um, I guess you could say... it’s a bit of a... family name."

Matt furrowed his brow, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “Family name? What’s that supposed to mean?” His curiosity was clear, though there was no judgment in his voice.

You smiled, looking down at your drink for a second before meeting his gaze again. "Well... my dad’s kind of a big deal," you said, your words casual but laced with a hint of hesitation. "You might’ve heard of him... Eminem?"

Matt blinked, processing the information. The realization slowly dawned on him, and his expression shifted from playful curiosity to something more awed. "Wait, Eminem’s daughter?" He leaned back slightly, eyes widening. "No way."

You couldn’t help but laugh at the surprise in his voice. "Yeah, I know, kind of a shocker, right?" You shrugged, trying to downplay it, feeling the familiar discomfort of being tied to that name, though it wasn’t the first time someone had made that connection.

But Matt’s surprise wasn’t off-putting. He didn’t seem impressed in the way people usually were when they found out who your dad was. He seemed genuinely... intrigued, and something in his expression softened as he continued, “I never would’ve guessed. Honestly, I don’t even know why I didn’t put it together sooner.”

You smiled, appreciating his reaction more than you expected. "I like to keep things low-key," you said. "It’s just easier that way."

He nodded, looking thoughtful. “I get that. It must be tough sometimes, though, right? Having everyone always know who you are...”

You shrugged. “It’s not that bad, really. I’ve always kind of just... been me. The whole fame thing is something I never really got used to.”

Matt’s eyes softened, his voice quieting. “I like that about you. You’re not trying to be anyone you’re not.”

There was something in the way he said it, so honest, that made your chest warm. His sincerity was refreshing, and it made you feel even more at ease with him.

"So, um..." Matt began, his smile returning. "That’s pretty cool, though. I’m not gonna lie, I was kinda shocked when you said your name earlier, but you’re nothing like what I expected."

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? And what did you expect?”

Matt chuckled, a bit of shyness creeping into his demeanor now that the mystery was out. "I don’t know, maybe someone who’d be all about the spotlight? You’re just... normal. And honestly, it’s kinda nice."

You smiled at his honesty, feeling your heart flutter a little. “Yeah, well, sometimes I’d rather just enjoy the night like anyone else. No cameras, no interviews... just a drink and a good conversation.”

“Exactly,” Matt said, his voice almost conspiratorial. “And it feels like that’s what we’re having right now.”

The way he said it made your pulse quicken. He wasn’t treating you like you were some celebrity—he was just treating you like someone he was genuinely getting to know, and that felt... nice. More than nice, actually.

"So," you said, leaning in a little, your voice soft, “what do you think about the rest of the night? You up for a bit of an adventure?”

His smile widened, and you could see the same spark in his eyes that you felt. “You know what? I think I’m up for whatever comes next... especially if it means more time with you.”

The air between you two crackled with potential, and for the first time in a while, you felt like you weren’t just the daughter of a famous rapper—you were just Y/n, having a fun night with someone who was clearly drawn to you, not the persona attached to your name.

As the night stretched on, you two continued to talk, laugh, and enjoy each other's company, both of you discovering more about the other in the most genuine way possible. By the time the event started to wind down, you realized how much you were looking forward to what might come next.

And for the first time in a while, you didn’t feel like Eminem’s daughter, just a girl who had met someone she couldn’t wait to see again.

As the event began winding down, the crowd starting to thin out, you found yourself not wanting to leave just yet. There was something about Matt that kept you there, drawn to him in a way that felt effortless. His presence was comforting, like a quiet anchor in a world that could sometimes feel overwhelming.

The music was quieter now, the lights dimmer, but you barely noticed any of that. Your focus was entirely on him, the way he smiled when he caught your gaze, the way his hand rested just a little too close to yours on the bar.

“So,” Matt said, leaning closer, his voice soft, “I’m really glad we talked tonight. I know we’ve only just met, but it feels like... I don’t know, like it’s been longer, you know?”

You smiled, your heart skipping a beat at how sincere he sounded. “I feel the same way,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “It’s like everything just clicked, like we’re... meant to be having this conversation right now.”

Matt’s gaze softened, and he smiled at you with such warmth that your chest fluttered. There was something undeniably sweet about how easy it was to talk to him, how comfortable he made you feel despite the weight of who you were. He didn’t treat you like you were someone special just because of your last name. He treated you like you were... you. And that felt like a breath of fresh air.

“You know,” Matt said, his hand moving just a little closer to yours, “I’ve really enjoyed spending time with you. I can’t remember the last time I met someone who made me feel this... easy.”

You reached for your drink, your fingers brushing against his hand by accident, but the small touch made your heart race. “Yeah,” you said softly, “it’s rare to find someone who just gets it, isn’t it?”

Matt smiled, his thumb brushing lightly against your hand as if to reassure you. “Yeah, it is. But I’m glad I found that someone tonight.”

Your breath caught in your throat at the way he looked at you, the warmth in his gaze sending a flutter through your chest. He didn’t need to say anything more for you to understand what he meant. The connection between you two was undeniable, growing with every passing moment.

“Matt,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper, “this... it feels really nice, just being here with you. I didn’t expect to feel like this tonight.”

Matt's eyes softened even more, and you could see the shift in his expression—a kind of vulnerability that made your heart ache in the best way possible. He leaned a little closer, his voice gentle. “I didn’t expect to feel this way either, but I’m glad it’s happening.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the sincerity in his voice. You felt your pulse quicken, and before you knew it, you were leaning in just a little, drawn to him in a way that felt almost magnetic. The tension between you two was palpable now, the air thick with the anticipation of something that could be even more than this easy conversation.

“You know,” Matt murmured, his voice low and warm, “I can’t stop thinking about how beautiful you are, Y/n. Not just because of who you are, but because of how you carry yourself. You’re... real. And I like that.”

You felt your cheeks flush, your heart swelling with the warmth of his words. “You’re making me blush,” you whispered, but there was a playful smile on your lips.

Matt chuckled softly, his hand brushing against yours once more, his fingers intertwining with yours. It was a simple touch, but it felt like everything in that moment. “I’m glad I could make you smile,” he said, his voice so sweet, it made your chest ache with affection.

You looked into his eyes, the connection between you two feeling more real with each passing second. "I like this," you whispered, your voice steady but soft. "I like us."

Matt’s expression softened, his thumb gently brushing over the back of your hand as he smiled at you, a little shy, but genuine. "Me too, Y/n. Me too."

For a long moment, you just looked at each other, the world around you fading into the background. There was no pressure, no expectations—just two people sharing a moment that felt... perfect. The warmth in your chest and the soft smile on Matt’s face told you that this was only the beginning of something good. Something that felt right.

And as the night drew to a close, neither of you seemed eager to part ways. It wasn’t just the drinks or the event that made this night special. It was the connection that had formed between you both, something sweet and real that you couldn’t deny.

"Maybe we can continue this... sometime?" Matt asked, his voice low, filled with anticipation. "Like a real date?"

You smiled, the flutter in your chest growing. "I’d like that," you whispered back, your heart racing a little faster at the thought.

Matt grinned, a warm, sincere smile that made your heart skip a beat. "Good. Because I think I’ve already decided—I’m not letting you go that easily."

And with that, you both knew that tonight wasn’t just a fleeting moment. It was the start of something new, something sweet, and perhaps even the beginning of something more.

﹒◟send me your requests and use an emoji if you want to stay anonymous. 𓂃

@estellesdoll

𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕: @gemzyy

[aayakashii]

Helloo Aya love your content as always and I have a request if you want to do it😊

Could you write "how would the Vagastrom and Jabberwock ghouls(+jin cause he's the only one I care about from frostheim lmao😭) propose to you/mc"😩

Anyways either way I love your fics and headcanons pls never die❤️

I love when ppl say "pls never die" to someone and now I feel elated that I'm on the receiving end of that too LMAO thank you for enjoying what I write <3 and thank you for helping me get out of my writing slump holy crap 😭

Warnings: none. Just tooth-rotting fluff, I might need a shot of insulin after writing this.

proposal headcanons

Jin

It depends on you, first and foremost.

If you're introverted, he'll make sure it'll be just the two of you, in the dim light of candles, with a dinner catered entirely to you.

Gentle music will be playing in the background as you two talk, and he tries to calm down his nerves by holding your hand tightly throughout the night.

You barely feel when he slips the ring into your finger, only noticing it when a precious gemstone glints brightly as he kisses your ring finger and murmurs the question into your trembling hand.

If you're extroverted, he'll throw a party just for the occasion. Whatever theme you like, you can consider it done.

You'll have the prettiest dress, the tastiest foods, the most delicious drinks with all the people you love surrounding you, despite you not knowing what warranted such a grand celebration.

Laughter and happy conversation suddenly quiet down as Jin brings you to the center of the room and gets down on one knee and the guests swoon over your fairytale romance.

Either way you prefer will be more than perfect for him, as long as your answer to his question is "yes".

Alan

Oh, he's so nervous. Almost can't look at you in the eye for an entire week before he gets the ring ready.

However, Alan isn't the type of guy who would prepare a special event for the proposal (but if you love him, you know this would never be his type of thing).

He does, however, want privacy to say whatever he needs to, if his heart finally decides to pour out of his mouth.

So, he takes you to a small hike.

Once you two can't hear anything besides the sound of leaves crunching under your feet and birds singing, he holds your hand tightly and turns towards you.

It's quick but soft and brimming with emotion: Alan only needs to tell you, through stutters and endearing mumbles, that you mean everything to him and that he wants to spend a lifetime with you.

He doesn't even need to ask whether or not you'd marry him. You're already hugging him so tight that you vanquish all of his anxieties in a fell swoop.

His heart thumps loudly in his chest, right under your ear, and he buries his face in your hair. You stay like this for a while, grounded and almost merged into each other.

You two only let go only when he finally remembers to slip the ring in your finger.

Leo

It's a show for the ages. It's not surprising at all that Leo would plan the fanciest, flashiest, trendiest proposal.

It will all be going straight to his TikTok right away.

But you already knew that. You know all the things that come with dating Leo. You know that his online career is way too important for him. You're fine with letting millions of fans ogle at him as he winks and vlogs and dances for them.

Because they will never see what you see.

They'll never really see how Leo's eyes look brimming with tears, nor how his hands tremble a little bit as he puts a ring on your finger.

They can't hear the little crack on his voice as he rests his forehead on yours and quietly asks you to marry him.

And when he turns to the camera, internet persona covering the tender little parts of him that he only lets you see, a smug smile on his face after you said yes, you know that you're the only one who truly knows him.

You're the only one who will marry him.

Sho

You're in for a ride, quite literally.

You don't suspect anything when he invites you to ride his motorcycle with him – Bonnie is his baby and you're his favorite person, it's more than common for him to get the two of you together.

Sho, however, can barely hide his anxiety. The dark blue band in the ring box feels like it weighs a ton, tucked deep in his pockets.

You notice his uneasiness. Of course you do. Your mind races with awful thoughts, and, as you two get off Bonnie, you immediately hold his hands, begging him to please let you know if you did anything to make him upset.

Sho feels like a dumbass. He thought he was hiding his emotions well, but it was silly of him to expect that you, of all people, wouldn't see straight into him.

But it's such a pretty day, and the air feels crisp, and the sunset paints you with orange rays of sunlight, and you look prettier than ever in his eyes.

He sighs and pulls the ring box out his pocket, putting it on your hand. His face burns with embarrassment as he says the words out loud, squashing any doubt you could ever have about the strength of your relationship with him.

You say yes as tears of relief escape your eyes, and you bury your face in the crook of his neck, a small laugh bubbling out of your mouth as you feel how warm his skin is.

Haru

From the moment he saw you holding Peekaboo in your arms, Haru knew what he wanted.

He waited and waited, wondering when it could be considered socially acceptable to ask you to marry him.

Oh, if only Bahnti could make him run fast through time as well.

He tells you so once he finally decides to propose, holding the ring box he had bought right after meeting you. It was now old and muddied after all those long, agonizing months in which he kept it hidden inside his pockets.

He tells you of all the times he thought of buying other rings, one exponentially different than the other, because it was so hard not to think of you whenever he saw anything bright and pretty.

It's easy for him to see his future with you, and he promises to also make it easy for you to live with him.

He doesn't expect you to tend to his wounds nor work like he does. No, he would never even think of having you break a sweat for him.

Haru only wishes to be on the receiving end of your caring hands as well.

When you accept his proposal, you pull him onto your lap, fingers threading into his hair, and he sleeps, knowing he would wait it out all over again if it always meant you'd be his.

Towa

It doesn't take long for Towa to propose. In fact, he probably proposes every single day ever since you two got together.

But it's always light-hearted, like another way for him to say "I love you" without actually saying it.

He's given you countless rings made of flower stems, which you keep tucked safely inside a box, despite all of them withering way too soon.

When he's serious about it, however, you know.

There's not playfulness nor mirth in his eyes – just deep, infinite adoration. A seriousness on his face that shakes you to your core.

When he slips yet another ring in your finger, you notice: this one was made to look like a flower stem, but it was made of a silvery, hard band.

"This one will never wither," he says under the night sky you two had been watching. "It's a proof that I want to be with you forever".

His proposal is more of a statement than a question. You will marry him, he knows and you know as well.

And you couldn't be happier.

Ren

He hates the idea of proposals. Hates how much attention is drawn to a couple during marriage, hates the huge parties, the self-importance of couples who think the world should clap for them for just being together.

Therefore, he really doesn't expect to have marriage popping up in his mind every time he looks at you, a little into your relationship with him.

It's more of a reassurance than a romantic gesture to him.

Whenever you laugh at his jokes, spend time watching his awful horror movies, listen to his ramblings about games–

Whenever you look at him, kiss him and say his name–

Whenever you exist next to him, he wants, needs the reassurance that you won't simply go away in the blink of an eye. You won't leave him behind, back into a solitude he doesn't think he can handle anymore. Not after you.

So when he asks you after a binge of awful movies, if you'd like to spend the rest of your life with him, he does it out of desperation.

If he likes it, he needs to put a ring on it, right? Or whatever it is that someone said some time ago.

Your smile when you say you do is almost blinding. He nods and looks away, noticing his reflection on his notebook's screen seems awfully flustered.

"We'll go out to buy rings tomorrow, then." He murmurs. You lean onto his shoulder, agreeing and he sighs.

It will definitely feel good to see the proof that you're his right there, glinting on your finger.

[anjautembear]

Helloo. So this is my first post and I had this idea in my head after I listend to a song. English isn't my first language so sorry if there are spelling errors or sentences that don't make a lot of sence😅. I hope to the readers that read this like this as much as I do and sorry again if it doesn't make sence >_<. OKAY on to the story!!

Warning: Angst baby

Inspired by the song: All i want by kodaline

All i want is nothing more

To hear you knocking at my door

He watches the door, hoping that she would walk threw it, greating him with that loving smile she always had, that still haunts him. He still hopes after weeks, but deep down he knows.

'Cause if I could see your face once more

I could die as a happy man I'm sure

He misses her, her face is starting to blur in his memory of her, but he wishes to go back. He wishes that he took her face in detail, if he only knew, that she would no longer be here, he would have printed her loving gaze in his mind.

When you said your last goodbye

The day of her death, is the day he wishes that never happend, the day that cancer took her from him, a sickness he so hates, a day that will haunt him forever.

The sound of a heartmonitor beeping in the background, the doctors and nurces shoes squeking on the floor outside, people talking, the sound of the wind blowing outside, the autum air blowing threw the curtains. Her favourite season.

But all those noises are blurred, for his soulfocus, was her, his beloved, his wife. He remembers holding her hand so tight for he feared she would pass to soon, slip from his fingers. His hold is tight but not too tight, for he didn't want to brake her. She was already thin and fragile. He still hates that feeling of her thin hand holding his and not the once healthy hand. Cancer was a true nightmare.

Her last words, the words that haunt him still, her fairwell greating, was a request. She requested that he should move on, marry another, find a new person that would treat him well. That she still and would love him. She hates that she is dying but does not want her beloved to suffer when she's gone. Her last and final words,

"You were a wonderful experience, I loved every minute with you. You were the reason for my every smile...I think...I'm ready to go home..with a smile and the memorys of us. Please look after youself...please."

I died a little bit inside

As his tears fall after she said those words, her final breath was taken, and she was gone. Like the autum leaves she so loved, her soul being carried away, back home. Her final smile with one tear falling, will always haunt him. His tears mimicking hers, but a waterfall. His heart stoped beating that day, like hers, for his heart shatter after she ripped the bandage clean.

I lay in tears in bed all night

As he lays in his ice cold bed, that no longer has her sent and warmf. He stares at the picture of their wedding day next to his bed. He still hasn't taken it off. His lifeless eyes staring at her bright smile, her wedding dress blowing in the spring wind. Memorys of her laughter, a sickening reminder, of his regrets of not marrying her sooner.

Alone without you by my side

He can no longer sleep, he can't, he tried multible times. But he can't sleep without her warm body next to his. So he holds her pillow, that no longer has her sent, the perfume bottle she once used ,empty after he used it to remind him of her.

But if you loved me

Why'd you leave me?

He doesn't know who to blame, himself, for not meating her sooner, cancer, a sickness that took her, or her, who left him a broken mess. A broken man who can't fix himself without her.

Take my body

Take my body..

All I want is

All I need is..

He felt like he should have been the one who left, he should be the one burried 6 feet under ground, he should be the one cold in the coffen, instead of his beloved, who didn't deserve it.

She was a bright light in a room full of dull lamps, he only saw her in a room full of people. But now she's a light no longer there, he is lost in the dark room. She is now no longer in the room full of people, he is surching, but she's already in the train of no return.

He needs her...but he no longer has her to save him

To find somebody

I'll find somebody

He tells himself he'll find another light, another person in the crowd, but deep down he knows that will never happen. She was the only 'somebody' he loved. But he'll try for her, he promised.

Ooh oh

Ooh oh

Ooh oh

Ooh oh

Memorys flash his mind. The day they met, bumping into eachother, on a cold autum day. He remembers how pretty she looked, how her hair framed her face, her flushed cheeks in the cold air. Her smile. Her smile he so loved.

Memorys flash in his mind. The day he preposed, the ring that gleamed in the setting sun. Her tears of joy rolling down her soft warm cheeks he so loved to kiss in the morning. Her eyes gleaming, resembling the ring, the ring he will no longer use.

Memorys flash in his mind. The day of their wedding. Tears of joy and laughter in the air of close friends, but the only laugh he heard, was hers, his wife, his other soul.

Memorys flash now...regret coming back. The day of her funeral. The rain pooring down, her coffen laying there, her favourite flower ontop. Haunting him. Mocking him, mocking him that he will no longer be able to give those same flowers to her on valentimes-day.

Cause you brought out the best of me

A part of me i'd never seen

He never thought that he could be loved, he always saw himself as the worst version of himself. But that all changed when she showed up in his life unexpectedly. She showed him parts of himself he has never seen before. She changed him into a better person. He never new he had these sides to him but she showed him like a hidden chapter between sticky pages glued together that he hid.

You took my soul and wiped it clean.

He was never a relegious person but she came to his life like a saint and changed his soul for the better. She saved him when he was stuck in a dark void of emptyness and anger. He worshiped her love like a person in church.

Our love was made for movie screens

If their love life was a movie. He was sure that everyone would have loved her as much as he did. They would have seen how deep their love was, how inlove he was. But he geasses that not every movie has a happy ending. There love story had a plot twist not even he could see coming.

Ooh, if you loved me

Why'd you leave me

Take my body

Take my body

All I want is..

All I need is..

To find somebody

I'll find somebody

Like you, ooh

He promised himself, he promised you, that he would move on. Find somebody that would love him like you did, but he can't. He would have to brake that promise. He can't move on, you were his somebody...

Thank you for reading this, I hope this wasn't a bad story😅. Bye bye!!

[elegantauthor]

Saving Grace Chapter 23

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Aurora Stark

Summary: Bucky infiltrates Zemo’s party to rescue Aurora.

Warnings: character death

Series Masterlist

Aurora eyed the dress hanging from the wardrobe. It was cream-colored, with a plunging neckline. Definitely a dress she would’ve worn to one of Tony’s parties, she braced herself on all levels before slipping the satin fabric over her head. Stopping mid-thigh, it complimented her brunette hair and amber eyes perfectly.

One glance in the mirror, and she barely recognized herself. Shades of the woman she’d been in Manhattan reflected back at her. Even if she could conjure up the visage of who she used to be, would she want to?

Fate weaves its hand where it must.

She was reminded of her mom’s words, nearly seven years ago, and in a flash of brilliance, saw the pattern of the grand design. Why question iniquity when she felt good about where she was in life, right now? She could lament on everything Zemo did, on everyone she lost, but if things hadn’t happened the way they did, she wouldn’t have met Bucky.

Bucky was her past, present… and hopefully, future. In Wakanda, they talked about moving to Brooklyn and getting an apartment together. Part of their dream realized, he lived in an apartment in Brooklyn. She was the missing piece, and he was hers.

Her eyes drifted to the deep V-cut, and she smiled at how it accentuated the gold chain, her wedding ring dangling from it for all to see. She fingered it gingerly, before nodding her head. She trusted… whatever was to come, it was meant to be.

~ * ~

Bucky pulled off to the side and cut the engine, parking the rental car in a snowbank. A line of vehicles spanned from the road to the house he glimpsed through the trees, standing out like a beacon of light in the darkened forest surrounding them. The thump of bass reverberated distantly.

“It would seem we were not invited to Zemo’s party,” Ayo teased lightly.

Bucky scoffed, pocketing his gun in his coat. “Do you think he’ll notice if we come in through the front?”

“What choice do we have?”

Their eyes met in a knowing exchange. The tension in the air was as thick as the puffs of white smoke from their combined breaths, further obscuring the frost-fogged windows. Zemo was anticipating theirs, or at least Bucky’s, arrival.

~ * ~

“Are you ready?”

Zemo poked his head in, eyes travelling appreciatively up and down her form. He stepped into the room, reaching to take her hands, which she allowed. Just as he’d instructed in Madripoor, she played the part well.

“You look divine,” he said, twirling her to have a look.

“I, uh, I’m nervous.”

He cupped the side of her face, rubbing his thumb over the swell of her cheekbone. “I will be by your side all night.”

“All night?” She raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you have to, I don’t know, schmooze with these lowlifes?”

His eyes narrowed. “Interesting choice of words, Miss Stark.”

“They’re human traffickers, what else would I refer to them as?”

He hummed at that. “And do you not think your father entertained guests of, shall we say, dubious backgrounds? Did he not supply weapons to terrorists?”

“He saw the err of his ways,” she spat.

“Eventually.”

“Can we just get this over with?”

“Of course, my dear.” Linking his arm with hers, Zemo led her downstairs with a series of side glances, and he was justified in doing so.

Currents of emotional energy slammed into her. Hiding behind him to buffer some of it, Aurora tried to separate individual signatures to no avail. The exertion gave her a headache that pounded above her right eye, radiating from the stress amassing between her shoulder blades.

Offered a drink, she quickly declined. This was neither the place nor the type of guests to get drunk around. And for the record, she tried to appease him, if only to prove her usefulness. She shuddered to think what he would do to her if she couldn’t produce the results he wanted.

~ * ~

Leaving Ayo outside with the Dora Milaje, Bucky entered the house. Strobe lights, music blaring over the speakers—reminded of Sharon Carter’s party in Madripoor, he got a sinking feeling in his gut. He moved through the crowd, scanning the heads of every person.

The flashing neon light made it near impossible to distinguish features, but he had the eye of a sniper, a trained assassin. If Aurora was here, he would find her. Venturing further into the house, Bucky’s eyes locked with Zemo’s. His cold stare glinted in the flashing strobe lights, and the people around him smartly backed off.

Caught in a standoff, Zemo whispered over his shoulder. “My dear, we have a visitor.” He tugged on the slender arm of a woman, and a wave of relief and anger coursed through Bucky as Aurora stepped into view.

“Bucky!” she cried, making to run to him before Zemo reeled her back with another tug on her arm.

“Let her go,” Bucky growled through clenched teeth. “You’re going back to prison.”

“I do not think so. You see, James, you are here because I want you to be. What better way to bring down a Super Soldier than attack him where he is weakest? Of course, I am talking about your dear demigoddess. You may not comprehend it yet, but you will… when you lie awake at night, wondering whether or not you can protect her. My clients know who she is and what she can do. But, I am a merciful man. I can spare you that torment.”

Zemo raised his gun, and Aurora didn’t hesitate. She stepped in front of it, finding herself again at the ramparts of his heart. The earsplitting crack of gunfire and bass drowned out by her warble.

“STOP!”

For a brief moment, everything stilled. Her hearing tunneled, as she tried to push herself up off the floor. That’s when she felt a burning sensation in her chest and glanced down. Blood stained the front of her dress, pooling on the floor beneath her.

She blinked, and the cacophony of voices and music rushed back in. Out of her periphery, Zemo stood suspended like a frozen statue. Even as she lay dying, her mind was spinning with theories. Was it because he accidentally shot her, instead of Bucky? Did he actually feel something in that moment?

“Get him outta here!” Bucky ordered gruffly, kneeling on the floor.

His handsome face swam into her vision, and Aurora reached up to graze her fingertips along his jaw. “Bucky…”

“Why did you do that?” Instead of anger, it was the strained, pleading whimper of a man on the verge of breaking.

As the Dora Milaje apprehended Zemo and forced the other scum to depart, Aurora found her bearings. She focused on Bucky’s emotional signature like a lifeline; it grounded her in her physical body, but with it came the pain. She coughed, blood sputtering on her lips.

Trying not to wince, she smiled weakly. “Five years, soldier… I- I feel you.”

Noticing the gold flecks in her eyes dim, he shook his head. “Please, doll… don’t do this to me. You don’t get to do this to me!” He pressed his lips to her fingers. His tears falling faster than he could wipe them away, he used his free hand to put pressure on her wound. “I don’t wanna lose you. I can’t…” As her body paled, Bucky let out an anguished sob. “NO! Aurora, stay with me. Please stay with me.”

“What happened?”

He looked up at Ayo, whose sorrow mirrored his. “Sh-she took the bullet that was meant for me, and I- I can’t stop the bleeding. She’s…”

[esotheria-sims]

More Simstober extras, again taken for the "Death's Door" prompt. I tend to take a lot of extra pics every time I'm in the game and then feel bad about deleting them, which results in a very cluttered Fraps folder. Posting them is how I deal with my hoarding issues. 🤣

And since this is a behind-the-scenes sorta post, you'll get to hear alllll about my picture-taking process (probably more than you care to know!)

Here are some random fun facts, in no particular order:

The Royal Crypt is a community lot, which means I had to send my sims to visit it in order to take pics. Took quite a few tries before I was able to load the Moonfeather household (crashes, crashes everywhere! -_-)

With photoshoots in general, I usually keep a "test" sim on hand who isn't needed for the photohoot itself, but rather to "work" in the background and perform all the little extra tasks required for the photoshoot (e.g. opening/closing doors, turning the lights on and off, or just being there while all my other sims are frozen with the freezer clock). In this case, my test sim was Marcus, who volunteered for the role all by himself (he flew in on his broom right after the lot loaded). Thank you for your services, Marcus!

I lucked out with Feanor's pose, which is actually just the autonomous "wring hands" idle animation. He looked so miserable doing it that I positively had to use it for the final pics! 🤣

I wanted to have a sim to plop into the coffin, even though I knew they wouldn't be prominent in the final photoshoot. Any random adult sim would've worked, but naaaah, I had to go the extra mile and opt for an actual Moonfeather blood relative. And since the only other Moonfeather I currently have in my game besides Aruena & Feanor is Arwan, who is a toddler... I aged him up so I could use him for my pics. Poor guy. 🫢💀

Just to clarify, Arwan is still a happy little toddler in my game and his untimely demise is NOT canon. I didn't specify who it was that the Moonfeathers were mourning in the OG photoset, so it's totally up to personal interpretation!

[linddzz]

ok your arcane blogging has almost convinced me to watch the show because it seems WILD and also, visually STUNNING like wowww

but I have absolutely no idea what the show is even about, could you give me a summary? (also what streaming service is it on?)

Yessss excellent! The show is indeed fucking nuts and also visually stunning. Just. Goddamn. Every single episode had moments of us going "that looks so pretty" and/or "holy shit that looks so fuckin sick"

It also does some of the best visual storytelling outside of the Spiderverse movies. They do so much playing around with 2D looking effects and light bursts, with music that slaps and is also used to create in-story sort of music videos to help drop character backgrounds and establishing where people are in episodes, which helps them handle the many characters really well!

Also the animation of micro-expressions in this show makes me lose my mind. I'm sure you've seen the gifs all over my blog and how much facial animation there is in them lmaoo

Good news is it's finished after 2 seasons, which I like as someone who prefers shows that don't just kind of go on for forever. It could have been 3-4 seasons but they did great nailing a rare mix of a plot AND character focused story that had a ton of moving pieces.

You also don't need to know shit about LoL and from what I can tell, it was more used as a base for the world setting and the first building blocks for the characters. They take advantage of the pre-made world really well and do this immersive style of world building where you may not know what all is going on in this world, but you can really tell that it's there and developed you know? But character lore wise we all tried to predict season 2 based on the original lore and then got cold clocked by how the basic character beats actually played out so. Yeah. The most video game aspect of this is the character designs and the FULL embrace of "what if this lady had a big glowing cyber arm she punched things with and what if it was the coolest shit you've seen."

As for what it's about...theme wise big points are

- love as both a destructive and restoring force, especially love between family and friends

-forgiveness and how one draws the line on what going too far means

-self perpetuating systems of classism that can pull even well meaning actors into being oppressors, and even how different forms of rebellion can begin recreating the oppression they're rising against (there are arguments on how this got handled in season 2 but I don't think there's any really solid storyline way to handle such heavy themes)

- the unexpected consequences of chasing progress as an ideal

-big buff hot women who punch!!!!!!! Women who are yoked!!!

-making you kind of hate how much you like that imagine dragons song

-beat drops that make you yell "LETS FUCKIN GOOOOO"

Plot wise it's about:

Set in a trippy art deco/art nouveau punk aesthetic city that has technology and where magic exists, but has been considered dangerous and only used by mages born able to harness it. Scientists learn how to access magic via mechanical and chemical technology. This causes a lot of problems. It mostly follows two sisters caught within the volatile time, along with a central cast from multiple parts of the city.

It's streaming on Netflix!

[msilwrites]

Papa Bear Material Ch 5 - (Captain Price Fic) Background Check

Chapter 1  Chapter 1 (Shorter Version)   Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4

Summary: Y/N is a reserved former constable and master sniper in the London police force, now working full-time as an artisan. She reconnects with old colleagues at a grill house for a catch-up, where her former junior, Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick, tries to play matchmaker. Gaz’s attempt to set her up with the retired SAS and Papa Bear material, Captain John Price, is met with resistance as Y/N is caught off guard by the unexpected attention. @darkangel4121@teenagellamaangel@madzzz0797@callsignferal(To the other’s who want me to tag you when there’s an update, just tell me at the comments)

Warning: Mention of abuse

A quick A/N:

Before jumping to the conclusion that Y/N’s victory was unrealistic or labeling her a "Mary Sue," it’s important to note that her win is grounded in practical, researched tactics. Y/N is an SCO19 sniper with urban warfare expertise—an environment where methodical planning and familiarity with tight, complex spaces trump brute force or traditional military tactics. Her role emphasizes precision, adaptability, and outthinking her opponents, which made her success plausible in this exercise.

On the other hand, Captain Price is a seasoned veteran with broad expertise, but his experience as a generalist operator wasn’t perfectly suited to the specialized demands of urban combat in this scenario. He underestimated how critical environmental mastery and sniper strategy were to the outcome, which reflects real-life situations where even the most skilled operators can be outmaneuvered in domains outside their specialty.

P.S.: I looked into this a lot (and spent time watching actual combat exercises) so I could make it as realistic as possible. 😊

Background Check

The faint buzz of the fluorescent lights overhead was the only sound in the otherwise silent room. Price sat at his desk, staring at the screen of his computer, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. The glow from the monitor cast a pale light on his furrowed brow as he replayed the events of the exercise in his head. He had lost, and not just in the way a typical soldier loses a battle. No, this loss gnawed at him in a way he wasn’t used to. It wasn’t just about tactics. It was about the person on the other side—Y/N.

He hadn’t seen it coming. The way she maneuvered her team, the way she used the urban environment like it was a living, breathing thing. Price, a seasoned veteran with more combat experience than most men could dream of, had been outwitted by a sniper whose reputation, he now realized, was far more than just a title. She was a specialist in a way that went beyond his initial expectations.

Underestimated, huh? He thought with a grimace, his gaze falling to the glass in front of him. He’d poured himself a drink earlier, though it felt more like a reflection of his frustration than anything else. He downed the whiskey in one smooth motion, the burn of it doing little to ease the tension in his chest.

His mind wandered to the way Y/N had handled herself—stoic, calculated, always thinking three steps ahead. She had been quiet during the entire exercise, a stark contrast to the boisterous, competitive atmosphere around her. That quiet precision, though… that was what set her apart. A trained sniper who knew how to stay hidden, blend into her environment, and take her shots at the perfect moment. She was more than just a "tortoise," she was a master at urban combat, a niche so many seasoned veterans struggled to adapt to.

But what irked him even more than losing was the mystery around her. No one in the unit seemed to know much about her personal background. On the surface, Y/N was just like any other operator—quiet, focused, and deadly in her own right. But it was the little things that made her stand out. She was incredibly dedicated to her team, always putting others first, making sure everyone was covered and watching each other’s backs. In a way, she was more dependable than anyone he’d ever worked with.

Her work ethic was impeccable—Y/N had a way of getting the job done without fuss or fanfare. She didn’t need to prove anything to anyone, yet she constantly exceeded expectations, even when the odds were stacked against her. Her teammates respected her for that, and though she wasn’t one for idle conversation or personal revelations, they could always count on her to show up when it mattered.

Still, despite the respect she commanded, there was something distant about her. She kept to herself, didn’t share much about her past, and preferred to stay out of the spotlight. She had no need for recognition, no desire to be celebrated. Her actions spoke louder than any words ever could, and that was the way she liked it.

But for someone like Price, who was used to reading people, that lack of transparency only made her more intriguing. He’d been around long enough to know when there was more to someone than met the eye. And Y/N? She was a puzzle—one he was determined to solve.

----------

Subject: Background Inquiry - Y/N (SCO19)

To: [Recipient Name] CC: [Relevant Personnel]

Body:

I need you to dig into the file for Inspector Y/N, codename "Tortoise." I know the clearance restrictions on her record—believe me, I'm well aware—but I have my ways of bypassing that. The thing is, she’s been in this game a lot longer than anyone's let on. I’ve seen her in action, and if I’m honest with myself, I’ve underestimated her. Urban warfare is her domain, and from what I’ve seen, she’s more than just a sniper. She’s tactical, calculated... and frankly, she’s left me rethinking everything I thought I knew about this line of work.

I need everything—her previous deployments, training, any contracts or associations with PMC units, and anything that might explain what makes her tick. I’ve got a feeling there’s more to her than meets the eye, and I don’t intend to keep looking the other way. She’s got a certain... presence, and it’s time I understood what drives her.

Be discreet about this—no issues with clearance or security. You know the drill.

Regards, Price

----------

As soon as Price hit send, he leaned back in his chair, the weight of his thoughts pressing on him more than the usual operational headaches. He had a habit of never letting anything—especially people—slip under his radar, but this was different. Y/N was different. It wasn’t just her tactical expertise that had caught his attention; it was something intangible, the way she operated with quiet precision, and how her mind seemed to anticipate every move before it happened.

He shook his head, trying to focus. But that damn patch she wore—the snapping turtle patch—kept coming back to his thoughts. The way her team rallied behind her, despite her quiet demeanor, spoke volumes. They clearly respected her, even if she didn’t show it. And then there were the glimmers of a deeper edge beneath her calm exterior—a sniper who didn’t just take the shot, but took the time to understand her environment and her enemy. " That’s something I can respect."

But then there was the matter of what had happened during the training exercise. He thought he was winning—had been winning, until it all came crumbling down with one last sweep. Her team had used the environment to their advantage—exactly how she’d been trained. And she? She’d been silent, invisible in the chaos, only to hit him square in the head when he’d least expected it.

He poured himself a glass of whisky, staring at the amber liquid. "No one had ever gotten the drop on me like that," he thought, taking a slow sip. He’d been fighting in these kinds of environments for years, but here she was, operating with a kind of patience and intuition he couldn’t shake. There was something compelling about that, something that made him want to know more. "Maybe I need to rethink my own game. "

As the glass clinked gently back on the desk, Price exhaled slowly. He’d sent the email—he’d find out what he could about her background. The more he knew, the better.

The sharp buzz of his phone interrupted his thoughts. He picked it up quickly, eyes scanning the message.

[Recipient Name]: I’ll look into it, sir. I’ll be discreet. Should have something for you within the next 24 hours or less. Don’t worry about the clearance, I’ll handle it.

Price stared at the screen for a long moment, his thumb hovering over the reply button. He considered typing something back, but decided against it. No need to overcomplicate things just yet.

---------- As Captain Price sits back, nursing a glass of whisky in his office, the chime of a new email cuts through the quiet of the night. He straightens, his gaze narrowing as he clicks open the message.

----------

Subject: Preliminary Information – Y/N (Codename: "Tortoise")

From: [Recipient Name] To: Commander John Price Date: [Insert Date, 00:10 AM] CC: [Relevant Personnel] Priority: High

Body:

Commander,

Here is the preliminary information on Inspector Y/N, as requested. This is a brief summary, but the full records are still being processed. I will ensure everything is pulled through, but here’s what we have so far:

Family Background: Y/N was born in Portsmouth, raised by a former Royal Navy officer who became an MI5 operative. Her father’s career gave him certain leverage, both in the Navy and with intelligence services. While there is some indication of her mother being complicit in the abuse, details are scarce.

Domestic Abuse Incident: There’s a documented case regarding domestic violence within the household. Social services were involved in the past, though much of the intervention was limited due to the father’s influence.

Missing Persons Report (Age 14): A police record from when she was a teenager indicates a missing persons report filed after a violent argument with her father.

- Missing Persons Reports (Age 14–19)

Frequency: Three documented incidents. Reason: Reports filed by concerned third parties (school staff, neighbors, or local authorities) after witnessing escalating domestic disturbances or after Y/N was seen leaving home for extended periods following physical or verbal altercations. Outcome: Each report ended with Y/N either being found staying with friends or local shelters. Upon investigation, she was repeatedly returned to her family home despite indications of domestic abuse, citing lack of concrete legal evidence or parental assurances. (Reports and Records as per attached)

I’ll send a follow-up once the full profile has been compiled.

----------

Price leaned back in his chair, the glow of the computer screen reflecting off his face as he read the email. His brow furrowed, the lines on his forehead deepening with every word. The contents were brief but revealing—a glimpse into a past that no one had spoken of, not even in passing.

The mention of multiple Missing Persons reports spanning Y/N’s teenage years hit harder than he expected. It wasn’t just the reports themselves, but what they implied: a life lived on the edge of survival, marred by conflict long before she picked up a rifle. The term "domestic disturbances" felt sterile, almost dismissive, compared to the reality it hinted at—physical and emotional wounds that couldn’t be bandaged over.

He scrubbed a hand down his face, his usual composure slipping as he stared at the screen. Her father, a Royal Navy officer. A man who should have been a protector, but instead was the source of her suffering. And her mother, passive at best, complicit at worst. It painted a grim picture, one Price wished he could unsee.

It was personal. Too personal.

The idea of Y/N—a woman who carried herself with such quiet strength—having endured that kind of upbringing stirred something in him. Anger, yes, but also a deep sense of admiration. She hadn’t just survived; she had risen above it, carving out a place for herself in one of the most grueling professions in the world.

He glanced at the timestamp on the email. Midnight. This wasn’t the kind of thing you could read and forget about, especially not at this hour.

Price sighed, his hand drifting to the glass of whiskey on his desk. He picked it up but didn’t drink, instead letting the weight of the glass anchor him. He knew he shouldn’t dig deeper—it wasn’t his place. Yet, the thought of leaving this half-finished made his stomach twist. There was more to her story, and now he couldn’t ignore the curiosity—or the quiet protectiveness—that had taken root.

"Y/N…" Price muttered to himself, setting the glass down as the memories stirred unbidden. This wasn’t new. If anything, he’d been aware of her long before she’d proven herself in the field.

It had all started with Gaz’s cheeky attempt at matchmaking, showing Price that picture with a grin and the bold claim: “She’s your type, Captain. Strong, smart, and she’s not the kind to immediately fall for your charm. Bet you’d have to work for it.”

He’d glanced at the picture, expecting nothing remarkable, but it had stopped him in his tracks. She was a beauty— petite, but a strong profile, and a kind of quiet confidence that spoke volumes even in a still photo. Gaz wasn’t wrong; she was his type.

"Drop by her stall," Gaz had urged a week later, nudging him during a casual chat. “She’s at the she's at stall 30, Just don’t make it weird.”

Price had rolled his eyes but eventually humored the idea. He’d wandered through the rows of vendors, trying to look casual as he approached her table. And when he’d seen her in person? Hell, the photo didn’t do her justice. She was a beauty in an understated way—focused as she sorted her wares, her movements deliberate and graceful. It wasn’t just her looks, though. There was something magnetic about her presence, something that had rooted him in place longer than he’d intended.

Of course, none of that mattered when he’d tried to strike up a conversation. She’d been polite but curt, clearly uninterested in his charm or his rank. She wasn’t rude—just distant, the kind of distance that said don’t even try.

And yet, here he was, unable to let it go.

What had started as light interest had deepened into a quiet admiration, especially now. Watching her in action during the exercise wasn’t just impressive; it had been humbling. She wasn’t just competent—she was exceptional. Calculated, efficient, but fiercely protective of her team. The Tortoise nickname wasn’t just a joke; it was the way she operated, outthinking and outlasting her opponents with sharp precision.

And then there was her past. The cold, hard facts from the report still lingered in his mind, their weight pressing heavy on his chest. She wasn’t just tough—she’d had to be.

Price exhaled, a short, bitter laugh escaping him. He wasn’t sure if he admired her more for what she’d endured or for the fact that she’d let none of it define her. Either way, it made him want to know her even more—a thought that unsettled him, because this wasn’t just professional. It hadn’t been for a long time.

"Damn it, Kyle…" he thought, shaking his head. The lad had been right, and he hated it.

The screen dimmed as the email timed out, but Price remained seated, lost in thought. Some questions could wait until morning, but he doubted his mind would let him rest until he knew the whole story.

Price reached for his whiskey, staring into the amber liquid. “Well, John, you’ve stepped into it now,” he said quietly, the weight of what he’d uncovered settling heavily.

[orisaspirin]

My beloved's new worst low.

Pairing: Lucifer x MC Micah x Diavolo (implied)

Pairing: This is my Obey Me! AU, so much of it will be different from canon. Micah, an exchange student from the human world who's missing their memories of the said world, ends up climbing up the ladder of popularity among lust demons easily thanks to the demons having similar morality to humans. This doesn't go unnoticed by anyone but Lord Diavolo and his right hand man, the Avatar of Pride decide to act upon their… ‘concerns’ first.

Warnings: Minors do not interact. You will be blocked. Violence, murder, death, nsfw, consensual to dubious consent to non consent, non consensual voyeurism, implied background character deaths, choking, unhealthy dynamics, AFAB genderfluid Lucifer x AFAB non-binary MC, overstimulation, thigh riding, masochism and sadism, size kink, clothed sex, a few jokes about death and suicide.

Ding!

The notification sound of their DDD caught Micah's attention, a task Magical History classes have been failing to fulfill for about three hours so far. The dark brown walls and desks, confined space and lack of proper light sources aside from lamps and candles really created the perfect atmosphere to take a nap and the professor's monotonous voice didn't really help either. She would either explain the subject in unnecessarily great detail and end up missing the point entirely or a few demons on the front seats would start a conversation with her and nothing would be taught properly for that day. Micah couldn't blame their seatmates dozing off five minutes into the class, really. Not like the professor seemed to care anyway. 

They yawned as their grayish blue eyes turned to their DDD. They opened their chats, bright red lips curling up into a smile as they read the name of the interrupter. 

— Today at 17:36

Marcia 

hey cupcake <3

Marcia, a succubus they've been friends with ever since the beginning of the exchange program. She had invited them to her and her friends’ table at lunchtime once when Mammon abandoned Micah and they ended up having a great time with the succubuses. They even exchanged their number with the lust demons and kept hanging out with them, eventually growing more and more popular with the lust demons. 

Despite their housemates, the Avatars of Sin ‘expressing their concerns’ time and time again, Micah knew they weren't about to stop being friends with these girls anytime soon. Not only to spite the Brothers but because the succubuses were the only human part of the Devildom— not entirely human but close enough. They were just so easy to get along with. Micah didn't need to be reminded of the uncomfortable difference between morality of their world and the Devildom with the lust demons, which was like a miracle honestly. 

Maybe it was because succubuses and incubuses worked closely with humans without having to feed on their flesh and soul? Micah thought to themself but shook their head as another argument arose from their mind. No, that couldn’t just be it. None of the demons they’ve met so far absolutely needed human flesh and soul to survive, it was just a luxury meal for them. Maybe kind of like how celebrities will add edible gold to their food and all…? 

Oh well, no need to get too distracted now. They could simply discuss this with Mammon when they went home. 

Micah

Hey Marciii (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧

You're bored in class as well?

Marcia

i had mathematics so i didn't even bother going to class lol

i was meaning to ask, can you look for julissa after class? 

me and the others tried texting and calling her but she's not answering. 

usually i would just assume she overslept or something but you can't help but get worried after she shared those dumb photos, y'know what i mean?

Dumb photos? Micah was left confused before the realization stuck. 

Julissa was a girl from their friend group who had taken a picture of Lucifer and Lord Diavolo walking side by side to the student council room and shared them on Devilgram, claiming she witnessed the two having sex afterwards. Of course it was all just a stupid joke but she still went into great detail— enough to believe her story if you're not careful about the plot holes. And of course, most social media users would rather die than be careful about what they read online so Julissa’s dumb little joke was spreading like wildfire these days. 

No one seemed to be willing to talk about it out loud though, a smart decision considering how the Avatar of Pride would react to being made fun of. Mephistopheles losing his place as the President of the Newspaper Club just because of some stickers he drew of Lucifer and Lord Diavolo was merely a mild example of what could truly happen to lower ranking demons— demons, to put it quite frankly, no one could care less about. 

Micah quickly typed an answer, putting their DDD on silent mode to prevent disturbing their seatmates. Normally, they couldn’t care less about some random sloth demons but there was a sloth demon they cared deeply for at the House of Lamentation. While Belphegor, the said sloth demon was used to sleeping through background noise, he would still get bratty about Micah paying attention to their DDD around him so putting it on silent mode around sleeping people somehow became a habit of theirs. 

Micah 

She didn't delete them?? 

Jeeeeeez is she suicidal or something? 

I mean, even if she is, she should've just hung herself or something. Surely that would hurt less.

Marcia 

beats me. 

you're free to give her a good beating if you do find her though ;)

Micah 

I'll keep that in mind ~

— End of conversation.

With a soft giggle, Micah turned off their DDD and began waiting for the end of the class, playing with their long, uneven and messy sandy blond strands impatiently. Luckily, the professor must've gotten bored as well and the class was dismissed ten minutes earlier than usual. Despite their growing impatience, they still decided to wait for their seatmates to wake up and gather up their belongings at their own pace. 

While they could use magic to shove them away and protect themself if the demons decided to pick up a fight, Micah would very much rather not end up in Lord Diavolo’s office for something as stupid as this. 

Honestly, they would rather not end up in Lord Diavolo's office for any reason. Even though their human world identity was still a mystery, it wouldn't take a genius to figure out they were bad with authorities. At least that was what Satan had to say about their rocky relationship with Lucifer (and the Avatar of Wrath never once tried to hide how ecstatic he was about it. Either that or Micah was good at reading people and wasn’t aware of it). 

Pretty soon, their seatmates left the class and Micah had time to wave at the incubus and succubuses who stopped by their desk to say goodbye. Seemed like the brothers were right, after all. They were growing quite popular among lust demons and this would surely bring consequences sooner or later. They weren’t quite sure what their current relationship with the Avatars was– Mammon would brag about being their ‘first’, Asmo and Satan would ask them out on dates and the rest of the brothers all would make advances in their own ways and Micah, being the attention glutton that they are, would happily accept it all but no one really confirmed anything. 

If they were dating all of the brothers at the same time, being too popular with lust demons would put their friends in danger for sure.

Knowing this and still hanging out with their friends was selfishness, was it not? Why were they doing this anyway, to spite the brothers? They made up all of their problems months ago so still holding a grudge felt childish honestly…

Hey, just when did this chain of thought turn from why they didn’t want to be sent to Lord Diavolo’s office for causing trouble in class to their relationship status? 

Whatever– this too would have to be discussed another time when they have the time to disassociate properly. Probably not anytime soon though. They had a grasp on the dynamic of House of Lamentation by now and they could say for sure they would never have one minute of alone time this afternoon or night. 

With a small sigh, Micah stood up and threw their bookbag on their shoulder, the charms and keychains attached to it jingling as they moved. Most of them were anime characters like Ruri-chan (who they admittedly grew attached to, even though they were nowhere near Levi’s level), May the Maid and so on. Micah thought it was funny how they absolutely did not fit in with their surroundings. 

As they walked through the gothic structure each step ached their knees, reminding them about the… accident they had while walking downstairs during lunch time today. And yesterday. And the day before that. 

Tripping on stairs was a common occurrence for them, so much so that the demons they’ve befriended, the Avatars and even the other exchange students would offer them help to prevent any injuries or embarrassing moments. They stopped wearing skirts just for this reason (meaning their glitter band aids were hidden underneath their pants. A shame, really) but still, better safe than sorry. If that meant anything in this realm, that is. 

As they passed the demons on their way to leave the building, they began thinking about where to look for Julissa first. She was a part of many clubs, which was probably why Marcia thought she had to be somewhere in RAD. She absolutely despised not being on time and missing club meetings and activities, so much so that she would force herself to attend RAD even when she’s sick. Micah didn’t have the succubus's schedule memorized and they didn’t have enough time to go through the entire building before one of the brothers come looking for them but they could text someone to–

Ding!

Another notification caught Micah’s attention, forcing them to snap out of their thoughts. They took their DDD out of their pocket and turned it on. Wasn’t it on silent mode when they got out of class…?

— Today at 18:02

Lucifer

Meet me at the Devildom History class right now.

Don’t be late.

Ah. This made sense, Lucifer probaby charmed their DDD when he noticed how often it would be on silent mode. They couldn’t help but groan and roll their eyes at the demanding attitude as they texted a reply.

Micah

Why? 

I have more important shit to do.

Lucifer

I highly doubt that.

You have five minutes until I confiscate your DDD. I’m quite certain it wouldn’t be the ideal if you wish to protect your high score on Ruri Tunes.

Oh shit. Teaching him about Ruri Tunes was a mistake, both Micah and Levi knew that but Micah never thought the eldest could ever use it as a weapon like this. On the other hand though, whatever he has in store must be quite urgent if he’s not even willing to wait for a bit longer despite knowing about their clumsiness with stairs. With a sigh, they texted a reply.

Micah

Fiiiiiiine.

I’ll be there right up.

— End of conversation.

And just as they promised, they were standing at Devildom History class’s door three minutes after their chat with Lucifer. Somehow they managed to walk the entire way without tripping or bumping into someone once— the fear of losing Ruri Tunes gave them the dedication and strength needed to do so for sure.

Lucifer opened the door right when they were about to knock, causing Micah to jump in their place. They really needed to get used to demons and their needlessly advanced senses…

“Come in.” The Avatar of Pride led them inside the class, his hand still hovering over the handle as he shut the door. Silently eyeing him up and down, Micah could see the eldest brother’s uniform was wrinkled and his hair was a bit out of place— something he would never allow to happen in the first place. His concealer and eyeliner was messed up as well, revealing the bags under his eyes staining his porcelain-like skin. He almost reminded them of Beel after a Fongol practice… Just what could’ve happened that forced him to be in this state? If his brothers created trouble yet again, the entire school would be aware so whatever happened must’ve been either minor or well hidden. However, their words died in their throat before they could even ask anything when they turned around.

There, sitting on one of the front desks with her face planted on the table was none other than Julissa herself. She seemed to be unconscious as she didn’t even budge when Micah entered the room. Shock crossed their face, their mouth dropping open slightly as they froze in their place, their book bag slipping off of their shoulder with a soft thud. 

They knew Julissa’s dumb joke wouldn’t go without a punishment but this just felt too soon, too sudden and too much. They tried not to think about what that punishment could be and kept telling themself it would be something mild— like detention, a social media ban or something. A part of them knew their denial lulled them into a false sense of security, that each lie they told themself would only add weight to the truth they would have to face later on but this was…

They weren’t prepared for this.

“No…” They mumbled, their mind too busy to even notice they were talking out loud. 

No, there had to be a misunderstanding. This had to be a detention or something, nothing even slightly close to what they thought. They were fine with joking around about the bloodshed they’ve witnessed in the Devildom but they dreaded even the thought of being a part of it. Even if it was just some random nobody who got too comfortable with social media, they didn’t want to be the one to let go of the rope of the guillotine. 

Just as they turned to Lucifer in a pathetic attempt to get reassurance, the Avatar of Pride wrapped an arm around their waist, pulling them closer to his large frame as his other hand held their chin up, forcing them to stare at the unconscious lust demon. Somehow the room felt icy but they could feel their temperature building up, causing their knees to give out. But of course, Lucifer didn’t allow them to fall. 

“Take a deep breath.” Said the Avatar of Pride, his voice as gentle as a lullaby. As if he was a mother helping her child stand on his own for the first time. They've never heard him talk to anyone like this before but unfortunately, their mind was too loud to even process it. “Repeat after me.” He learned down, his lips hovering over their ear. His whisper and hot breath only added on to their dizziness. “One… two…” 

“NO!” Micah screamed, ripping the Avatar's arms off of their body and desperately rejecting the fact that they weren't strong enough to push him off, he simply allowed it to happen. They turned to Lucifer and took a few steps back to face him properly. “I— I…” They stammered, grayish blue irises burning into crimson ones as they searched for the right words. The Avatar of Pride looked at them with an undeniable fondness, a look that could force Micah to pray for death right then and there. 

They were pathetic.

They needed more time. They just needed more time to prepare themself for this. 

“I refuse to be a part of this!” They declared but the weakness of their voice was enough to make them cringe visibly. “This is your job, isn't it? Why do I have to be a part of it?” 

No, no, no, it was only getting worse— the crack of their voice, the small sob they let out at the end of that sentence; each and every single evidence of vulnerability they failed at hiding felt like a slap on the face. Adding on to Lucifer's gentleness, they couldn't help but feel like a whiny toddler refusing to do his homework. 

It wasn't fair. None of this was fair.

Why? Why did it have to be now? Why couldn't he just wait for them to prepare themself?

The Avatar of Pride didn't budge at all, much like they expected. He put his hands on their hips and pulled them close to his chest, their bodies flushed together with no space between them. Micah could hear the Avatar’s heartbeat in his chest; at least a hundred times slower than theirs. He wrapped his arms around them, one arm holding them in place by wrapping around their waist, the other not so subtly groping their behind. They punched the Avatar and screamed their protests into his chest, the leather uniform jacket drowning out their voice so fast they couldn't even hear themself. 

“I’m sorry.” Lucifer spoke up again, his words causing Micah to pause and look up to him. “I know you weren't ready,” He continued as he began petting their head, pushing the blond strands off of their tanned skin. “but it's alright. You will be okay.” He smiled, a smile Micah couldn't find anything but cruelty behind despite its tenderness. 

It was cruel mockery, it had to be. Nothing was going to be okay after this. 

“Liar!” Micah snapped back. “I don't have to be a part of this! I don't want to!” They screamed, blinking away the tears that threatened to break out of them. 

This was pathetic. 

They had to die right then and there. 

For the sake of whatever pride they had left, they had to drop dead right in that moment. 

The Avatar turned them around to face the succubus and held both of their hands, leading them closer and closer to the girl. “Take a deep breath.” He said once again. “Repeat after me. One…” He said, holding Micah tightly in place expectantly. 

This was ridiculous. He couldn't just comfort them like a fucking baby and make them kill someone— someone who's only crime was literally just joking around! 

Though if they didn't play along, they would end up competing against Lucifer himself in a battle of wills and probably lose. Even if they did win, what could they do? The usual? Deny this ever happened, gaslight themself into believing it was all a bad dream or a misunderstanding and go through the same embarrassment all over again some other time? As long as they were a part of the Devildom, they would have to play by demons' rules and morals. They would have to spill the blood one way or another. 

“One.” Micah repeated, their voice barely loud enough to be a whisper. Lucifer took a step closer to the unconscious succubus with Micah wrapped tightly in his arms. 

“Two.” Said the Avatar, his hand not so sneakily fiddling with Micah's uniform jacket's buttons. Micah let it happen, even leaned their head back into Lucifer's chest when the dizziness threatened to take over once again. 

Deep breaths. One, two, three, four. 

Don't think about it. For the love of God, don't think about it. Pretend you're doing something else. Anything. Just pretend you're not taking her life. 

Even thinking about what was going to happen made them want to throw up. 

Still, they kept counting with Lucifer

“Two.” This time, their voice was just a bit louder as well. The Avatar took off their jacket and threw it on his shoulder, quickly wrapping his arms back around them and fiddling with their collar this time. 

“Three.” Lucifer kept counting, leading Micah one step closer to their unconscious victim while doing so. He undid Micah's (already not worn properly) tie easily and threw that on his shoulder as well. 

Was he growing impatient or was Micah imagining things?

“Three.” Micah repeated, taking one more step closer to end up in front of the desk. Lucifer gently took both of their hands and brought them to his lips to kiss their knuckles before grabbing their wrists. He led their hands to grab the succubus's shoulders, first pushing her up to face her properly and then wrapping their hands around her throat. 

And just like that, taking deep breaths proved itself to be useless.

“I can't, I can't, I can't!” They screamed, repeating the same word like a mantra. “Just call Barbatos or something! Please!” Lucifer leaned down as they cried out and hid his face on the crook of their neck. They could feel feather-light kisses around their neck and shoulders as well as gentle humming of the Avatar. 

“You can.” Lucifer replied firmly. “You may not be strong enough to eliminate a demon all on your own but you have magic to make up for it.” 

He was playing dumb. He had to be. He knew why Micah couldn't do it. 

But why? Why was he standing here, listening to them cry and scream about not wanting to kill this random nobody? Was he taking some kind of sadistic joy out of this? 

Was that why he looked so messed up? Did he chase this succubus just for the thrill of it? 

“Why me?!” Micah tried to break out of the Avatar's grasp but to their surprise, he didn't let them go this time. His grip on them tightened and while it didn't hurt, it applied just enough pressure to let them know they weren't leaving anytime soon. “Why can't you just choose someone else?” They groaned, a small gasp escaping they lips mid-sentence as they felt Lucifer sucking a hickey into the part of their neck their uniform failed to cover. The way it made their heart flutter only added on to their disgust but they couldn't deny it felt nice. 

“Stop.” They cried out, their distress gaining a soft chuckle from Lucifer. “I can't.” The answer was short and clear. “You have to learn.” He added, his knee slowly pressing on their crotch. Micah shut their eyes tight, as though actually trying to disappear. Their distress was overshadowed by Lucifer's affection and at this point, they've accepted that resisting wouldn't do anything. They just wanted to know why.

Before they would ask again, Lucifer answered their question for them. 

“Despite living with demons you're still attempting to cling onto a fake sense of humanity.” He whispered against their ear as he began rubbing his knee against them back and forth. “Me and Diavolo have been observing your…” He leaned closer to Micah, his chest flushed into their back. “...growth ever since the beginning of the Exchange Program. Yet I must admit, we both have been failing at keeping a professional distance with you for a while now.” He ‘confessed’. For Micah, he merely stated a matter of fact; they were more or less aware of the Avatar of Pride and the Prince’s infatuation for them yet they refused to acknowledge it as anything serious. 

“And I think we all know who’s at fault for that.” The Avatar stared down at Micah, the accusing tone gaining a groan from them. This wasn’t their fault. None of this was. 

They just needed more time! If they had more time, they would definitely plan for this. Definitely.

“Nonetheless, we noticed your lack of boundaries with lower demons such as this,” He urged Micah to strengthen their grip on the succubus's throat. “and decided to use it as an example.” 

All because they gave in to their denial, huh?

“It crossed a boundary that’s been made clear countless times.” He continued, taking advantage of Micah’s resilience breaking apart. “Disrespecting Lord Diavolo would result in a punishment it couldn’t even dream of so it should be glad it’s going out by your hand.”

For a moment, Micah’s mind seemed to calm down. Like they finally reached a solution. They would try again. After this kill, they would be prepared. They would observe their surroundings, calculate and study their interactions with their housemates, other exchange students and the royals carefully. They could forget about this kill— forget it ever happened and try again.

Just forget about it.

Act like it never happened.

And try again.

With those words going through their mind, Micah finally choked the succubus.

Lucifer hummed with a pleased manner as the succubus’s body went limp and fell back on the desk. With one arm still wrapped around Micah’s waist to support them, he grabbed their jacket from his shoulder and threw it over the succubus, catching their tie just in time to put it aside. As expected, the jacket did a quite poor job hiding the dead body. 

Though it was endearing, how small Micah was even when next to lower demons. With a soft sigh, he picked Micah up and sat them down on the desk next to where the succubus laid.

He held up his lover's chin with his thumb and index finger, taking in just how disconcerted they looked. Grayish blue eyes wide and unfocused, brows furrowed and lips shut tight as they hugged their body tight, still trembling from the fright. Seeing them like this was endearing though, they reminded him of his brothers after their first kills. At the time, seeing his loved ones in this state was devastating but now he was glad to have the experience. He gently grabbed Micah’s wrists and wrapped their arms around him, letting them hug him as tight as they could. 

“It’s okay.” He whispered. “You will be okay. Just let me handle this.” And luckily for him, Micah nodded against his chest, probably too tired to keep fighting. Either that or they just didn’t care anymore. He has been through both of these scenarios with his brothers and at the end, they always learned to play by the Devildom’s rules and let go of their weaknesses. While observing their interactions with his brothers, he noticed Micah fit in just fine with them so hopefully they would turn out the same. And if they didn’t, well, he and Diavolo would have plenty of time to fix that. 

Just as he was about to dissociate, he felt Micah’s hands slowly unzipping his pants. Their head was still buried in his chest and turned away from the dead body and while it was uncharacteristic of them, he could understand that they wanted some kind of distraction. Distraction that he was more than happy to provide.

With his lips curling up into a wolfish smirk, he took his DDD out of his pocket and texted his best friend.

— Today at 18:53

Lucifer

Make sure the door is locked this time. 

Ignoring the replies sent not even a second later, he video called Diavolo and set his device on silent mode. He put his DDD back inside his pocket afterwards but both he and Diavolo had charmed their devices to act as a type of portal a long time ago so he was quite certain his friend could see everything as clear as day. 

He took off his jacket and covered the dead body lying beside them with it after gently pushing Micah off of himself, wanting them to be as comfortable as possible despite the unideal circumstances. He then unzipped his pants and lowered them just slightly above his knees and let his turtleneck and gloves stay on. While he was busy with his own clothing, Micah had unbuttoned his shirt and carelessly threw it aside, gaining a small sigh from the Avatar. 

“Y— You’re okay like that?” They asked, pointing at his turtleneck and gloves. “Aren’t you gonna feel…” They paused. “Uncomfortable?” 

Lucifer, too distracted by the sight of their bare, tanned skin, merely shook his head as an answer. Their habit of falling down the stairs made itself clear even on their chest, they had small cuts and bruises everywhere but especially on their shoulders and arms. 

He ran his hands over their marks, his touch as gentle and light as a feather and crimson eyes glimmering with what could only be described as infatuation. 

Micah hesitated for a moment but slowly eased into his touch though they still didn’t move closer to him. He traced the mark he left on their neck and pressed a kiss on their sandy blond hair before undoing their belt and slipping off their shoes and pants. Before he could leave them aside properly, his lover grabbed him by the collar and pulled him down for a kiss. He gladly obliged and wrapped his arms around him, feeling up their back as he drowned them in passion and arousal. He has been dreaming of this moment for so long and now that it was finally happening, it was even better than his dreams. Their lips were so soft against his yet their passion equaled his as well. They had to hold tightly onto his shoulders to keep up with him, truly emphasizing just how weak they were against him. His pretty little lamb lying there just for him. 

He broke the kiss only when he felt Micah was running out of breath and pulled away to drink in how much he ruined them already. Their cheeks were a beautiful shade of red, their eyes teary and sparkling with the glow of his affection and still wanting more. “I love you, my little lamb.” He said as he reached for their panties, already wet and sticky. Black with red polka dots and lace decorating it, something Diavolo would favor for sure. He could only imagine what the Prince must be feeling at the moment. They would be lucky if the Devildom was still standing when they went further. 

He slipped their underwear off of their legs and right when he was about to put it aside as well, Micah stopped him with a sly smirk. “Keep it.” They said, “Put it in your pocket or something. A little gift to remember today, y’know what I mean?” They winked, gaining a soft chuckle from Lucifer. “Oh? Well I do appreciate the thought, my dear, but I’m afraid you’re mistaken if you thought this merely a one time affair.” He replied and without waiting for their reaction, grabbed their thighs and threw their legs over his shoulders. He slowly licked their clit, electing a soft gasp from his beloved as he dug his fingers on their soft thighs. The pleasure was already overwhelming, they were already rocking their hips back and forth to get more. Luckily, Lucifer was more than willing to spoil them. 

Already out of patience, he dug his tongue deeper into his lover’s pussy, licking and sucking them greedily as they trembled underneath him. They could already feel their stress washing away as they relaxed into the wooden desk— it wasn’t comfortable at all but Lucifer was doing everything just right to make them feel like they were floating. “Fuck— Lucifer, keep going!” They cried out, pulling their hair in a desperate attempt to ground themself. The pain only added on to their arousal however, leading them to tightening their grip on their scalp. The Avatar glanced at his lover, letting out a soft chuckle that stimulated them even more. They were writhing underneath him, trembling with pleasure helplessly and he could already feel his own panties soaking. 

He brought one hand close to Micah’s lips and pushed his fingers inside their mouth without warning, forcing his lover to suck and choke on the leather gloves. Their hands abruptly abandoned their scalp and wrapped around the Avatar’s wrist instead, desperately trying to push him away even a little bit as they gagged on his fingers going deeper and deeper into their throat.

He kept eating them out like it was his last meal alive and pretty soon, his lover screamed around his fingers, muffled noises vaguely resembling his name. Before he could even ask if they were close, Micah’s orgasm crashed them down, their nails clawing Lucifer’s arm desperately as they rode through their ecstasy. Their eyes rolled back into their skull, they were trembling with pleasure and their dizziness was coming back to them— although somehow it was much more pleasurable like this. 

Lucifer licked their juices slowly, so slow that it felt like torture. Right when Micah was about to try to kick him, he took his fingers out of their mouth to hold their thighs and bite into them. His teeth drew blood easily and he licked it just as ecstatically as before. It was so painfully easy to draw blood from them, he didn’t even have to use any jaw strength to bite down. 

“Lucifer— Lucifer fucking stop!” They screamed, pulling their hair once again to help them through the overstimulation. Their protests were left unanswered though, the Avatar didn’t even wait for a minute before he pushed his own panties down and climbed onto the desk to ride their thighs. He wrapped his arms around his lover and pulled them into a hot makeout session, moving his hips back and forth and he chased his own orgasm. “I can’t, my love—” He confessed as he broke the kiss. “—not when you feel so good…” He added, completely blissed out with pleasure. One of his hands grabbed both of Micah’s wrists and held them down as the other found its way into their clit and began rubbing it teasingly. His lover threw their head back, screaming out in overwhelming ecstasy and bucking their hips into Lucifer’s touch. They weren’t even sure what they wanted— everything was too much but also too good. 

“We’ll go for a second round.” Lucifer said between his moans, whispering into Micah’s ear as they were trying to ride another reaching orgasm. “Then a third…” He kissed their shoulder. “Then a fourth… then maybe I can calm down a bit.”

— Today at 20:34

Diavolo

One missed call.

One missed call.

One missed call.

[sea-jello]

GRAHH REDRAW JUMPSCARE

@/marsipain's cyberpunk ninjago au!!! im sure we all know it okay time to yap if any morro enjoyers remember alll the way back in january 2023 i did something for this au and i think around a couple months ago i was like yk what ill do it again. cause the one back then really was not the vision like i tried my best but i just did not have the skill

LOOK AT THIS??? i did end up ditching the mic but i kept the stickers at least. not sure how i feel about them but they were too iconic to scrap. also the perspective kind of wasnt working out for me i didnt really get the fisheye look i was aiming for but we ball. i actually started the whole thing end of AUGUST and then i completely revamped it look at what i had before

its a vibe lowkey i like it but unfortunately it was again. not the vision wasn’t dramatic enough. i redid it last sunday and worked on it nonstop for days what was i on

PROCESS

[canisalbus]

I did a little pixel headshot of Vasco! I was originally planning on doing it for artfight but I ran out of time and motivation, so here it is now. I'm a little out of practice with canine faces, and I find drawing gradients in pixels difficult, but overall I'm pretty happy with how it turned out

.

[library-whale]

I wonder if Parker misses the fans as much as we miss him... does he wish he could've spoken to us at least one more time?

(I hope he's having a good birthday, at least.)

[chaoticly-shy-dragon]

(it's may the 4th?!)

may the fourth be with you! enjoy: ashla from my fic orderly facade, a few months after the first chapter

also a version without the scarf/shawl/head scarf

this was actually a redraw from some old colored doodles I did back in 2022 (I will probably make a comparison bc the gap between the two is something that astounds me)