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thefallennightmare · 9 months

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Mercy-one

*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Fallen Angel!OC

Warnings: swearing, angst, fluff, smut, mythological talk, violence.

Summary: "Blinded by a fear of feeling, these are the kings we chose. Lost and looking for the meaning, I've been searching high and low" It came crashing down on him. This is the story of the highest banished angel from where she came only to find home in the arms of a mortal man. This mortal realizing he'd face Lucifer himself to keep her.

Lethia: Archangelus Oneironaut also known as Archangel of Dream Walking. Across worlds and dimensions, she walks within. Uncovering dangerous secrets, leaving her cast out, isolated- that is until she begins to learn what it means to feel.

Authors Notes: Here we go! Now this is an AU but I will keep things true to life with Bad Omens and Noah as possible! Also, this is NOT a reader insert fic. I decided to create a character for this.

Tags[OPEN]: @thescarlettvvitch

LETHIA

The wind whipped widely through my hair, smacking me in the face, as my limbs thrashed around with such force I cringed in pain. I could see the clouds out of the corner of my eyes as I fell through them, with no sense of comfort protecting me. I choked on a sob when I noticed parts of my long, golden, hair was being singed from the rate of the fall. I held my hands in front of my face to watch in horror as the once short nails grew in length and darkness.

“Wh-what?”

How did it get like this? All because I chose to follow someone else instead of the almighty King? How was that fair? I’d been loyal since creation, one of his most loyal servants, but the second I thought of something different than the divine plan, He cast me away.

“Leth, follow me to the ends of the darkness. For we can create our own Kingdom and rule.”

My eyes screwed shut at the familiar voice as my throat burned with the thought of him. I couldn’t help but wonder if he was close by, surely he had to be. I was thrown from the Kingdom first, Lucifer not far behind.

The air around me began to thicken, grasping around my throat with such force, that I clawed there with my newly fresh nails. Blood dripped from the wounds but none of that mattered to me; I simply stared up towards the sky where my former home disappeared through the clouds. I could try and climb my way back, as far as my wings would allow. But I knew, like Icarus, if I climbed too high to the sun, I’d fall into the unknown jungle below.

Icarus was a fool.

My ears rang loudly from the sudden change in altitude and I looked towards the left, almost crying out when I took in the most recent alter to my appearance. Bright wings that mirrored the colors of the clouds surrounding me were no longer pure. No, they were dark with the tellings of my betrayal.

“My King, forgive me!” I cried out seconds before my body fell to the hard soil below; darkness overtaking my vision.

NOAH

Slamming the car door shut with a long sigh, I walked from the street, up to my house. I took in the variety of cars, realizing that one of the guys must have invited a few people over tonight. Usually, I never minded when we had small get-togethers, but tonight I did mind. It wasn’t anything anyone in particular did, my mind was just filled with the same dream I’d had the last seven nights in a row.

Black feathers. Even darker hair. Cream-colored skin. And vibrant red eyes.

At first, I chalked it up to being a random dream but as the nights progressed, the dream continued with the same figure.

One night they were sitting on the edge of my bed. The following night, they were perched on top of the roof of my house, watching the street below. Last night, the figure was in bed with me as my lips trailed over the curvaceous lumps of her breasts.

I ran a hand over my face as I neared the front door, taking a deep and steady breath. I thought about asking my therapist about these dreams but now that they were getting more intimate, I decided against it.

“It's just a dream, Noah,” I told myself while my hand reached for the door.

A groan halted my movements and I turned swiftly on my heels back towards the driveway. But all I heard was silence; besides the loud music coming from inside the house.

Shrugging, I took one final step towards the threshold until a groan sounded again, only this time louder. It sounded as if a large bird fell from the tree hanging overhead, feathers fluttering in the air. I dropped my bag on the front porch before taking the steps back down two at a time towards where I heard the groans of pain; in between Jesse’s and Orie’s cars parked in the driveway.

“Fuck,” I cursed seeing the crumbled body.

Head snapped to the side, dark tendrils of hair covering her face, and an arm draped over her midsection. I winced as I saw the contortment of it, knowing that it had to be broken.

Where the hell did she come from?

There was a sudden surge that spread from my heart to every vein inside of me; flowing through in shocking waves. I couldn’t place it but seeing this figure in front of me, there was something so familiar about it; her. A painful groan fell from her lips and I breathed in relief, almost forgetting to check if she was alive. I’d been so entranced in her familiarity.

Gently scooping the body up into my arms, the dark hairs fell away from her face and I sucked in a breath when I noticed there were fresh cut marks along her cheek, and blood dripping from her ears. I rushed her inside, gaining stares from my roommates, who immediately stopped the music.

“What the fuck?” Orie’s voice was raised.

I shook my head while setting her on the couch in our living room. “I don’t know, man.”

Our house was packed with random faces; some I recognized, others I didn’t. I knew there was a party tonight but suddenly, I wanted everyone that didn’t live here out.

Folio, who noticed my expression, waved a finger in the air. “Alright, I think it’s time to end this party. Thanks for coming, everyone!”

Pretty quickly, everyone who didn’t live there or weren’t part of Bad Omens left the house.

“Where did you find her?” Nick asked.

I hesitated. “That’s the thing. I found her lying broken in the driveway.”

“The driveway?” Jolly gasped. “How long had she been out there?”

I shrugged while brushing away the stray hairs from her face, hearing a soft but painful breath falling from her dry, cracked lips. My eyes grazed down the line of her neck down to the swell of her breasts that were barely covered by the tattered black shirt; it looked as if it was burned off. I tossed a blanket over her to help cover her modesty.

Something glinted in my vision and I looked back at her neck to see a golden chain hanging loosely between the valley of her breasts. My heart dropped to my stomach as the reality slammed into me.

I’ve seen this chain before; in my dreams. My lips tasted that chain in my dreams.

My hands shook at my side as a shaky breath escaped from my throat and Jolly called my name.

“Hm, what?” I turned to look at him.

He ran a hand through his hair. “Should we call the police? She looks like she’s been attacked.”

“No,” I said a little too suddenly. “She just needs a place to rest. We don’t know what happened. I’ll ask when she wakes up.”

I slowly sunk into the chair across from the couch, resting my elbows on my knees, watching the rise and fall of her chest to make sure she was still breathing.

Jesse stared down at her from behind the couch and let out a low whistle. “It’s a miracle that she’s even breathing right now. We should probably wrap her arm. It could be broken.”

Just then, Michael returned with our first aid kit and handed it to me. I took it with a small smile and started rummaging through it to look for the hydrogen peroxide and cotton balls. The least I could do while she slept was clean the wounds on her face.

The softness of her face twisted as the sting of peroxide sunk deep within her wounds and when a whimper fell from her lips, my cock twitched in my jeans. Images of her lying spread wide in my bed for me flashed in my mind and I did my best to push them to the back of my brain.

“How did she end up in the driveway? Looking like this?” Orie asked as he finished wrapping up her arm.

“I don’t know,” I sighed while sitting back in my chair, eyes still trained on her. “With how I found her, it looks like she fell from somewhere.”

Jolly shook his head as he sat on the armrest of the couch, also watching the stranger. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

All seven of us stood around the body laying on the couch, wondering and watching to see if she would wake.

“Maybe she’s an angel,” Jesse snorted, trying to ease the sudden tension.

“Angels don’t exist,” my eyes snapped up towards him.

Jesse held his hands up. “It’s a joke, Noah. But you have to admit it’s a little weird.”

I ran a hand over my jaw and nodded. “I know. I couldn’t leave her out there, though. Once she wakes up, I’ll take her wherever she wants.”

“Luce,” the woman croaked out, head turning towards the side.

Her voice rang out in song, echoing throughout the house, and my heart rose in my throat hearing how eternal it sounded. I barely knew anything about her but I couldn’t ignore the way my soul felt connected to her. Maybe it was because of seeing this form in my dreams or fate that I found her in my driveway, almost as if I was destined to help her.

“What did she say?” Nick questioned.

Folio shrugged while leaning over her. “Luce? Maybe that’s her name?”

Suddenly, her eyes snapped open and with one swift movement, the woman had her legs wrapped around Folio’s midsection and him pinned to the ground. Her good forearm was pressed deep into his neck while he lay frozen underneath her. All of us were on our feet but none made a move to stop her, not knowing if it would ultimately help or make things worse.

“Who are you?”

The venom in her voice was cold as ice.

“Ni-Nick,” Folio choked out.

The woman tilted her head towards him. “Where am I?”

Taking a tentative step towards her, I placed a soft hand on her shoulder. “I found you outside.”

It was as if my touch meant nothing to her, eyes still burning deep into Folio. It wasn’t until I spoke again that she finally noticed I was touching her.

“You’re hurt. I brought you inside to help you.”

Before I could register what happened, I felt myself being pinned up against the front door, fiery red eyes staring deep into my soul. With all the doubt that plagued my mind the last hour as I watched her sleep on the couch, I tried to tell myself that I didn’t know who she was. It was all a coincidence that parts of her reminded me of the figure I dreamed of.

But the moment I saw those bright red eyes, I knew that all the doubt was wrong. This was the same woman I dreamed of the last seven nights.

LETHIA

With my nails digging into the fresh skin of the man in front of me, I assessed every inch of his face. The brown eyes widened in slight horror when my nails dug deeper and I took in the way his lips parted, breaths coming out broken. His long hair was held back by a clip but strands still fell into his face and I cocked my head to the side when I realized something drastic.

Well, a few things.

First, I couldn’t feel my hand around this man's throat. I squeezed harder, my face twitching in anger, when I still couldn’t feel his skin underneath my grasp. I expected to feel the erratic thrum of his pulse or his Adam's apple dip low as he swallowed.

Instead, I felt nothing.

No. It couldn’t be.

I’ve heard tales of this happening to the Fallens but I never believed it to be true. An old folks tale the other Archangels discussed over a cup of wine.

My eyes blinked as I slowly removed my hand from the man’s throat, fingers shaking with the realization. The dark nails mocked me for my failure, scolding me for taking the darkness over the light.

The second thing I realized? I’ve seen this face before. Moments before I fell, it flashed in my mind like a photograph, every fucking detail. The long brown hair, bright brown eyes to match, the freckles that littered over his nose and cheeks, the tattoo that wrapped around his throat where my fingers were moments before; a snake, apples, and hands.

How metaphorical.

“What’s going on with me?” I muttered bringing my hand to my chest, noticing it was wrapped in some kind of material.

“You hurt your arm, we wrapped it for you,” a different voice spoke.

My head snapped to the left, seeing another man slowly approach me. His voice sounded different than the others and I narrowed my eyes at him.

“You’re not from around here,” I noted.

A snort sounded from behind me causing me to whirl my body towards it, seeing yet another strange man staring at me.

“Not from around here? Who talks like that?”

Someone smacked him in the chest. “Michael, don’t be an asshole.”

“I’m just saying, Nick. She wakes up in our home and attacks two of our friends. Are we supposed to allow that? We don’t even know her fucking name.”

My tongue clicked against my teeth. “Lethia.”

Various sets of eyes stared at me until the man who had an attitude spoke.; Michael.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“My name-,” I spoke slowly. “-Is Lethia.”

Michael snorted. “Well, Lethia, where the hell did you come from?”

Giving him a wave of my hand, I decided it wasn’t worth answering that question only because none of these men deserve to know.

“Who’s Luce?”

I snapped my eyes towards the man I had pinned against the door, heart stuttering in my chest. “Excuse me?”

He rubbed at the fresh red marks on his neck. “You said it in your sleep.”

Lucifer.

I licked my lips, widely shaking my head. “I need to leave.”

A soft voice called to me. “We can take you back home.”

This man had a buzzed head and a beard. “Although, you should get those injuries checked out.”

“I’ll heal,” I answered honestly.

Lethia, come to me.

I gazed around the room to see if that voice belonged to any of the seven of them although I knew it didn’t. I knew exactly who uttered those words.

“I have to go.”

The man from my vision stood tall against the door, not allowing me to leave. My jaw ticked with anger and I motioned behind him.

“Move.”

His brow raised. “That’s a funny way of saying thank you for saving your life.”

“Thank you?” I chuckled darkly. “You simply did nothing for me except keep me prisoner in this home.”

“Prisoner?” It was his turn to chuckle. “I fucking found you in my driveway, broken and bruised. The least you can do is tell us what the hell happened!”

They’ll never understand. Mere mortals never did.

I might not understand where I was but I knew mortals when I saw one. Their smell was different than angels; some were stronger than others. Except for the man blocking my way out. It was different, his aura, and I didn’t want to admit it but it drew me into him. There had to be a reason why I saw him mere seconds before I fell from the Kingdom.

The two of us were unmoving, not wanting to break first, and one of the men must have felt the tension because one gently stepped between us; the one that sounded different from the rest.

“Noah, let her go.”

Something fluttered in my stomach and I nearly shook with the unknown feeling. Never in my life had I felt something like this, even during my time with Lucifer. But with this mortal, Noah, it was entirely something new and it scared me to the depths of hell.

Noah scrunched his face with anger but eventually stepped to the side, allowing me to leave.

“Thank you,” I mocked with a slight curl to my lip; more like a snarl.

After two steps toward the door, I froze when something caught my attention out of the corner of my eyes. Titling my head towards the glass, my reflection stared back at me and I gasped at what I saw.

Short black hair, black ink covering almost every inch of skin across my shoulders and arms, my shirt barely hanging one by a thread, and what shocked me the most were my eyes; crimson red, not the vibrant violet.

“No, it can’t be,” I brought my shaking hand to my mouth.

Suddenly, an ear-piercing ringing dug deep in my ears and I brought my hands to them, screwing my eyes shut. My head throbbed in pain as if someone was scratching their claws there. With one eye open, I noticed Michael held some kind of device in his hand.

“Wh-what is that dreaded noise?” I stuttered.

“A phone? Fuck, how hard did you hit your head?”

A what?

When the ringing stopped, I stood taller and for the first time, took in my surroundings. Everything in this home looked different than how we lived in the Kingdom. While we had advantaged technology, we simply didn’t have things of this nature.

“None of this makes sense,” I whispered to myself before my eyes landed on a small device on a table.

October 12, 2021.

I nearly stumbled on my feet when everything began to click into place. Someone during my fall, I landed in a time that hadn’t existed yet.

Noah could tell something was off because he turned towards me, a frown pulling at his lips. “Are you alright?”

Without saying another word, I left in such haste, I hadn’t realized what I left behind in my wake.

NOAH

My eyes stared at the space in front of me, the door wide open as it let in the cool night air. Those red eyes haunted me in Lethai’s wake and my skin crawled when an old dream crept back into my consciousness.

I lay in my bed, bare for her to see, Lethia’s tongue traced down my chest and then stomach to brush across my navel. I gripped her dark hair, wrapping it around my fingers to guide her head farther down. My cock throbbed with such an ache, I was sure it wouldn’t last. Beads of precum slipped from the slit and Lethia’s tongue danced around it, tasting me.

“Fuck,” I cursed as my eyes fluttered shut in ecstasy.

“Look at me, Noah.”

My eyes snapped open at Lethia’s firm tone and felt my heart stop dead in my chest; her eyes were glowing red.

“Noah!”

Breaking free from my trance, I gazed over to Orie. “Did you say something?”

“We did all we could, man. There’s no use dwelling on it.”

He patted my shoulder before they all dispersed into their sections of the house. But not me, I remained frozen in my spot, still staring at the vast darkness past the threshold. There was something just outside the realm of that darkness that caught my eye, it fluttered in the wind until it fell to the concrete just outside the door.

With furrowed brows, I bent low to pick it up, analyzing it with curious eyes. It was a black feather, at least twelve inches in length, and the softness of it was something I’d never felt before.

“Who are you, Lethia?” I murmured to myself, holding the feather close to my chest.

#tina talks #noah sebastian #bad omens #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian smut #noah sebastian angst #noah sebastian x fallenangel!oc #mercy noah sebastian

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faun-the-fawn77 · 4 months

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"𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃"

Lucifer Morningstar x F!FallenAngel!Reader

Genre: SMUT

Word Count: 4.0k

Warnings: oral(m! receiving), creampie, breeding, mentions of having kids, clit play, overstimulation, squirting, brief fingering, whipped!Lucifer, Lucifer being a sweetheart, reader is horny 25/8

Desc: A one night stand is a one night stand... right? What happens when Lucifer keeps going back to the same fallen angel just for a taste of Heaven? Oh no... seems the Devil has caught feelings once again!

Note: Lucifer smut;) like there isn't enough already. Requests are open now! This is third and final fic of the votes. Don't worry to those who voted for others! I will be working on all those fics:) Next after this one is a part two to "Lips Of An Angel". Just have to...find a song that will match the part two:)

I’m so addicted to

All the things you do

When you’re going down on me

In between the sheets

Oh, the sounds you make

With every breath you take

It’s unlike anything

When you’re loving me

Another shitty day in Hell. Sinners were offing each other in the streets of the Pride Ring. The angelic building in the middle of the city shone brightly in the red light, the clock on each side had big letters reading ‘36 DAYS’.

Lucifer, King of Hell himself, wandered the streets of Cannibal town, a mission in his mind. He tried to avoid Rosie ‘cause she’s a talker and would only make him late for where he needed to go after getting the thing he came to this lovely town for. He scoured the shops looking for the one thing that stood out to him last time he was here. It reminded him so much of Her. Of the one person he couldn’t get out of his mind.

“Well, hello to our dear king! How are you on this hellish evening?” Lucifer growled lowly at the sound of that radio prick's voice. He turned to the red deer demon and pulled him down by his collar.

“Listen, I don’t have time for your theatrics today. I have places to be and things to get and I don’t need some lowlife sinner messing that up for me,” Lucifer let go of the demon’s coat and strided off to the jewelry shop he spotted out of the corner of his eye, waving behind to the overlord, “Hope you have a bad day!”

Later that evening, Lucifer turned up at his daughter’s hotel. He always came under the guise of seeing his daughter but everyone knew he came for one particular guest of his daughters. Knocking on the giant doors, he waited ‘till either his daughter or the deer prick opened up.

The doors opened a few minutes later and Lucifer was greeted by, thankfully, his daughter’s voice, “Oh! Back again, dad? But I jus-”

“Charlie! You know I’m always here to see you! I just missed you so much that I couldn’t wait a few days!” Lucifer walked in and hugged his daughter. Vaggie stood off to the side, peering out the door for any dangers.

Charlie gasped before smiling nervously and patted her dad’s back. She pulled away and held him by the shoulders.

“Dad, you know I love when you visit. We all do! But uh- Everyone, especially Angel, has noticed that you only come here for a certain someone…” Charlie trailed off. Lucifer stood there silently and blinked slowly, almost frog-like.

“Ah…” He didn’t know what to say. Was he that obvious? The weight in his suit pocket seemed to weigh down on him immensely. He gripped the apple on his cane tightly.

“Is she here?” Charlie smiled. She wanted her dad to be happy. After her mom had left them, her dad was in a slump. She checked up on him as much as she could but she could tell he wasn’t getting any better. After finding Y/N, a fallen angel just like her father, Charlie brought her with to her family home in hopes of them becoming friends. After that, Lucifer has been stopping by more than he used to. Charlie thought it was because they were good friends but after what Angel told the group last time…Charlie knew her father had fallen once again and this time harder than he fell for Lilith.

“She’s here. Last I spoke with her, she was working on a secret project. She wouldn’t tell me what it was.” Lucifer looked about ready to bounce off the walls of the hotel lobby.

“Well I’ll just uh- yeah…” Lucifer ran off towards the elevator and pressed the button for the penthouse at the top of the hotel. He rocked on his heels as the lift made its way up to the top. He stuck his clawed left hand into his suit pocket and clutched the velvet box.

“Well, hello there, handsome.” Y/N’s voice was like smooth silk. It calmed Lucifer’s nerves down, the breath stuck in his throat was exhaled as he stepped foot into his…friend’s penthouse. He wouldn’t call her friend with the amount of times they’ve gotten intimate but, he didn’t know what else to call it.

“Hello, darling. How is your night going?” Lucifer plopped a seat on the sofa in her living room. He watched as she rounded the island in her kitchen, holding a cup of coffee and wearing nothing but a white silk robe.

“I’m doing wonderfully, Luci. What prompted the visit?” She folded her legs as she sat on the other end of the sofa. Lucifer cleared his throat and shifted his legs. The robe was a bit see-through which made her breasts very noticeable to him.

“Just wanted to see you…” Y/N smiled cheekily. She knew what she was doing to him. With the way she sat to what she was wearing, Lucifer couldn’t believe he had this much self-control to not jump on her.

“Is that all?” Lucifer gulped. He shifted in his seat once again and gazed away from Y/N’s intense stare. Her eyes darkened with lust as she continued to stare right at him.

“What do you actually want, Luci?” She placed her mug down, sliding her bottom over and closer to her partner. She watched him cross his legs and grip the arm of the sofa.

“Come on, Luci. Tell me what you desire~” She ran a hand up his arm and over his chest. Lucifer watched with bated breath as she undid his bowtie and slipped the first few buttons of his shirt undone. Her fingers snuck under the shirt and touched all over his pale chest.

“Luciiii~” Lucifer felt the last thin thread snap at the tone of her voice. He grabbed her shoulders and pushed her down onto the couch. He roughly kissed her and made sure to slide his forked tongue between her lips and into her mouth. He heard her moan and felt her hands run up his arms and into his hair.

Lucifer pulled away with a dazed look in his red eyes. He was straddling her lap, his erection pushing painfully against his suit pants.

“Need help with that?” Lucifer sat back as Y/N leaned over him, running her hands from his hair, down his semi-exposed chest, and to his tightened pants. She undid his black belt and slipped it from his pants. She popped the button on his pants and unzipped the zipper.

“Please…” Lucifer whined. Y/N looked up at him and smirked. She made sure to go slow when she pulled his pants down his legs. Her knees hit the carpeted floor when his pants did. Her soft hands slid from his ankles and all the way up to his boxers elastic.

“Be patient, Luci.”

“God, I’m addicted…” Lucifer mumbled. He was very addicted to her. To all the things she does to him both in and out of the sheets.

Y/N hummed and brought her mouth closer towards his erection. Her breath fanned across the dampened tip and she quickly tore through his duck-printed boxers. The shreds of fabric fell to the carpet.

“Oh, Luci…” She licked a stripe up from his balls to tip. Lucifer moaned loudly and rushed to cover his mouth. Y/N laughed, pulling his hand from his mouth.

“You can be as loud as you want, my dear. No one can hear us.” With that, she took the tip of his dick into her hot mouth. Lucifer gripped the sofa, tearing streaks into it with his claws. His breathing became laboured as Y/N made work on his cock. She swirled her tongue around the tip, her hand coming up and wrapping around the base. She wanted to antagonise him. Make him want her.

“Oh my Lord, please! Please do something…” Lucifer could feel his patience run thin. Patience was definitely not one of his virtues, if he had any left.

Y/N hummed. She removed her hand and placed both of them on his thighs, bracing herself, before taking him whole.

“OH, Y/N/N! Plea~ah,” Lucifer moaned. He bucked his hips up into her mouth and down her throat. He wanted to feel guilty but he was so into the pleasure that she was giving him. Her nails dug into his thighs, her moans vibrated down his length which caused him to gag her once again.

“I-I’m sorry! You just-hah-you just are so good,” Lucifer praised. She may have been an angel but by God was her mouth sinful.

Ohh, girl, let’s take it slow

So as for you, well, you know where to go

I wanna take my love and hate you ‘til the end

It’s not like you to turn away

From all the bullshit I can’t take

It’s not like me to walk away

It’s been a few days since Lucifer has been intimate with his partner. His friends with benefits as he has learned from Angel Dust. He was scared. Every time they’ve gotten intimate, Lucifer was on the verge of telling her he loves her. It took all it had in him to not shout it when he came.

“Oh, Rosie. I don’t know what to do!” Lucifer plonked his head on the table face first. His glass of whiskey shook at the action.

Rosie, the one who made sure the cannibals in her town stayed in check, patted her king on his head. She smiled down at the fallen angel and watched as he mumbled to himself.

“Honey, if you don’t tell her how you feel, then how is she supposed to know you feel this way? What if someone else sweeps her off her feet? She is nothing like that ex of yours, ya know.” Lucifer grumbled. He knew she wasn’t like Lilith. Lilith was a cold-hearted bitch who cared about no one but herself.

“I’m trying to take it slow.”

“Is having a one night stand and then becoming friends with benefits ‘taking it slow’?” Lucifer glared at the smiling cannibal. She was right and he knew it. He sighed and dug into his pocket. He brought out the velvet box and slid it over to his friend.

“I wanted to give her this when I confessed… I don’t know if it’s too much…” Rosie gently took the box and opened it. She gasped when she saw what it was.

“Lucifer! This is gorgeous! I’m sure she’ll love it, honey.” Lucifer felt his shoulders sag with relief. The piece in the velvet box was beautiful. It was a silver ring detailed with leaves. Deer antlers were what held the moss agate stone in the middle. He learned from Husk and Angel that she only wore silver jewellery and that her favourite stone was moss agate. It may not have been the most expensive but he wanted it to come from the heart and not from his wealth.

“I know she will. I just…I hate how much I love her. It’s suffocating with her not knowing.” Lucifer was still scared. Scared that she’d walk away and leave everything they’ve built behind. Just like Lilith. He knew it wasn’t like Y/N to turn away. He knew because he’d attend some of those silly exercises his daughter hosted.

“Tell her. Let her know and don’t bullshit your way outta this.” Rosie slid the ring back to Lucifer. She watched as he breathed in deeply, pocketed the box, and made his way to the door to her shop.

“I won’t walk away from her. Not like I did to Lilith.” With that, Lucifer exited the shop and made his way to the hotel.

I’m so addicted to

All the things you do

When you’re going down on me

In between the sheets

Oh, the sounds you make

With every breath you take

It’s unlike anything

When you’re loving me

Yeah

“Well, if it isn’t my favourite king! How are you today, my dear?” Lucifer had arrived at Y/N’s place in seconds flat after leaving Rosies. He had spider lilies in one hand and a stuffed black cat in the other. Both being her favourite things she’s seen in Hell.

“Good! I just wanted to have a chat with you. Hangout for a bit after all the paperwork I did this morning.” Lucifer watched her eyes light up at the sight of the flowers and stuffie. She grabbed them from his hands and raced to get the flowers in some water. She placed the stuffed cat on her loveseat near her bookshelf.

Lucifer stepped out of the lift and slowly walked towards the kitchen of her penthouse. Y/N was humming as she cut the bottoms of the flowers and placed them in the black vase. Her fingers were nimble and held the flowers delicately to ensure they didn't get damaged.

“What did you want to talk about, sweetheart?” Lucifer took a seat at the island, snatching an apple from the basket of fruit in the centre.

“Nothing important… uhm, how was your day?” Lucifer was nervous. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t drop the L-bomb on her. She was too important to him to lose.

“It was amazing! Your daughter is such a sweetie! She’s helped me adjust to life in Hell wonderfully. I wish I could pay her back somehow…” Lucifer looked at the angel. This angel was of pure heart and faith. He knew Y/N was still struggling with being in Hell. He knew because he could see the way she hid behind his daughter when they went out or when she would quote from the bible only to grow embarrassed when the others looked at her in confusion.

“She is a sweetie, isn’t she? I’m glad you’re adjusting to Hell. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable while you’re here.” Lucifer bit into the apple. Y/N watched as the juice dripped from his chin. She licked her lips, walking towards the island and having a seat on the stool near Lucifer.

Lucifer continued to munch on the apple, not noticing Y/N’s hand creeping towards his thigh. When she made contact, Lucifer jumped and choked on a bit of the sweet fruit.

“Surely you didn’t come here just to talk.” Lucifer felt flushed. He cleared his throat and set the apple core down.

“I promise it was only just to talk. I know I said it was nothing important but-”

“Shh, Luci. I can see how tense your shoulders are. Why don’t I-”

Lucifer stood up abruptly causing Y/N’s hand to fall from his lap. He stepped back and sucked in a breath. He reached into his pocket and produced the black velvet box for Y/N to see. He could see the confusion in her eyes.

“Y/N, I love you. I love you so much that the thought of you not knowing was suffocating me. I know it only started out as us being friends and delving into a one night stand that then turned us into friends with benefits. After a while, it wasn’t just the sex for me. I wanted all of you. Heart, body, mind, and soul. I wanted to feel what it was like for you to love me for me and not for my body. I hope this doesn’t scare you off but I wanted you to know how I feel about you.” Lucifer finished up and placed the small box in front of her. He was sweating profusely and his hands gripped the apple on his cane tightly. He watched as Y/N lifted the box up gently and opened it. Her eyes glittered and he swore he saw tears in her eyes.

“Luci…” Her breath was airy. Like he took her breath away.

“Luci, thank you. No one has done this much for me since I’ve been created. You don’t have to be scared ‘cause I love you just as much.” Lucifer could cry. She felt the same! He smiled brightly and bounded up to the tall angel and hugged her tightly.

“Oh my Hell! I could bounce off these walls in happiness! Oh, I love you so much, my angel!” Lucifer could feel the vibrations of her laugh. She hugged him back just as tightly, the ring he gave her glittering on her right hand.

“Thank you for accepting me, Y/N/N,” Lucifer mumbled into her breasts. He felt her fingers run through his golden locks as she hummed.

“No need to thank me, honey. I love you so very much.”

…

“Let’s head to the bedroom. I need to get this energy out~”

And I know when it’s getting rough

All the times we spend

Trying to make this love something better than

Just making up again

It’s not like you to turn away

All the bullshit I can’t take

Just when I think I can walk away

They’ve only had a few fights but they were only about Lucifer's work. He was the king and every time he went to sign off on a meeting paper to say he wouldn’t be able to make it, Y/N scolded him and told him he needed to go or the residents of the seven rings of hell won’t take him seriously anymore.

She was right. Every time they went out on a date, Lucifer could hear the whispers and snickering. He was gone for years when Lilith left and everyone had assumed that he was gone. Now that he’s back and appearing more in the public eye, the sinners in Pride casted snide remarks his way.

“Honey, a letter just came in from Ozzie. Have you always had a family dinner every month with the seven sins and Charlie?” Lucifer paled at the mention of the dinner. He hasn’t been to one since Lilith left him. Charlie had tried to get him to go a couple times only for him to turn her down and go back to wallowing in his sadness.

“Uh- yes… yes we do. Ozzie was the one that actually wanted it to happen.” Lucifer bounced his knee nervously. Y/N hummed and made his way into the study and up to his desk. She set down the letter and looked down at him.

“How about we go? Ozzie seems to want to meet me and to introduce us to that little imp of his. This’ll be good for you! We can see family and maybe we could invite the residents of the hotel? Have the sins come from their rings and hang out in Pride?” Y/N has been encouraging him to get back into contact with his family since they’ve gotten together. Seemed she was very family oriented. I mean, she had always had him finish inside her whenever they were intimate. He had a sense that she wanted kids but she hasn’t said anything to him yet.

“Fine. How about you write the letter back to Ozzie. Have him send out a message to the others that we’ll be having the dinner at our place. I’ll fly over to the hotel and inform Charlie.” Y/N squeaked and pulled a blank paper from her lover’s pile of papers on the desk. She produced a quill with the snap of her fingers and wrote out the letter. Lucifer was happy that she was excited to meet his family. Every time they had the petty arguments about his work and paperwork, she would ignore him ‘til she got too horny and then seduced him into bed. He didn’t want this love to be about fighting and making up with sex. He wanted it to be more than that,

“I told him that we’ll have the dinner this Friday! Make sure you mention to Charlie that I invited everyone from the hotel to be there!” Lucifer smiled as she leaned down to kiss his rosy cheek. She bounced off to who-knows-where while Lucifer sat back in his desk chair and sighed. He had to talk to her.

I’m so addicted to

All the things you do

When you’re going down on me

In between the sheets

Oh, the sounds you make

With every breath you take

It’s unlike anything

I’m so addicted to

The things you do

When you’re going down on me

Oh, the sounds you make

With every breath you take

It’s unlike anything

When you’re loving me

Yeah

When you’re loving me

“Oh fuck! Lucifer, right there!” The room was filled with the sounds of skin slapping and ragged breathing. Lucifer was pounding mercilessly into his lover’s pussy. He watched as her eyes rolled into the back of her head as his dick hit just the right spot inside her. Her moans echoed off the walls, her hands clenching the silk sheets beneath her.

“Come on, baby. You have one more in you, don’t ya?” Lucifer groaned out into her ear. His stomach tightened when he felt her clench at his words. He smirked and brought a clawed hand to her pussy. His pointer and middle finger rubbing circles on her clit. She moaned loudly at the contact before she started to shake as her orgasm crashed through her. Juices squirted from her dripping pussy and coated his lower abdomen and thighs.

“Oh fucking hell…” Lucifer moaned. His dick throbbed and he finally came into her clenching hole. His seed spilled out while he was still in her and when he pulled out he made sure to take his fingers, scoop up the mess, and push it back into her. Y/N moaned and tried to push his hand away only for him to grab it and shush her.

“It’s okay, honey. Just wanna make sure it takes…” Lucifer held still inside of her and when she calmed her breathing down, he made ‘come hither’ motions. She squeaked out and tried to squirm away only for Lucifer to pin her down.

“One more. One more time, sweetheart. I need to make sure it takes,” Lucifer whispered. He leaned up and over her, pulling his fingers from her pussy and replacing it with his hardened dick. He saw her eyes tear up from overstimulation. He kissed her lips, holding onto her hips and slowly drove his hips into hers.

“That’s it, sweetie. You can take it. I got you.” Lucifer whispered sweet nothings into her ear as he began to pick up his pace. His grip tightened on her hips when her pussy clenched around him. He moaned out, dropping his head onto her breasts.

“I’m c-close, Luci! Please!” Lucifer thrusted his hips faster, making sure to hit the spot that made her see stars. Her eyes clenched shut and her hips moved to meet his hips. Her moans grew louder as her orgasm grew closer.

“Oh, Hell…” Lucifer almost whined when Y/N tightened around his length, her moans loud as she shuddered. Her orgasm hit her full force, her pussy squirting out juices once again. Lucifer sped up until he finally released another load into her abused hole.

“I want you to be a mama. Charlie already loves you, why not have another?” Lucifer mumbled. He dropped down on top of her, his dick still in her to keep his load inside to make sure it takes.

Y/N ran her fingers through his messy hair and smiled down at him. He was such a softie for kids. Whenever they would visit the other rings, Y/N made sure they at least went to the circuses that were held that day to support the kids.

“I love you, Luci.”

Lucifer snuggled into her more and murmured out tiredly, “I love you most.”

How can I make it through

All the things you do

There’s just gotta be more to you and me

I’m so addicted to

All the things you do

When you’re going down on me

In between the sheets

Oh, the sounds you make

With every breath you take

It’s unlike anything

I’m so addicted to

All the things you do

When you’re going down on me

Oh, the sounds you make

With every breath you take

It’s unlike anything

I’m so addicted to you

Addicted to you

WOOOO SECOND LUCI FIC!!! Hope I did him justice:')

Enjoy!!

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Upcoming fics!

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar #lucifer magne #lucifer magne x reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer smut #lucifer morningstar smut #writing #creative writing #writblr #writers on tumblr #hazbin hotel fanfic

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tinietaehyun · 1 year

Text

Mystic Trail ✧ * ˚ ˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗˚

[supernatural!txt x researcher!reader] [One-shots]

Pairing(s): Various supernatural!txt x researcher!reader

Contains: Profanity, dark themes, mentions of blood & injury, romance, fantasy elements, supernatural creatures, fluff, angst.

Genre(s): One-shot series, Romance, fantasy, dark fantasy, comedy.

Link: Masterlist

Summary: Your fascination with the supernatural grew beyond just reading online journals and documentaries from a young age but rather it's now your entire career. As a rookie researcher, you have gone on a decent amount of field expeditions.

You knew some supernatural creatures were more dangerous than others, though that didn’t stop your pursuit towards them.

Though the question remains, how safe can you remain and to what extent were you willing to go to get your research?

———————-•••••••••••••••••————————

Take your pick and see if you make it out unscathed or utterly in love…

———————-•••———————

1. HUENING KAI:

Pairing: Elf!Hueningkai x Researcher!reader

Contains: Mentions of injury, profanity.

Genres: Fantasy, fluff, romance.

Summary: Your footsteps crunch through the dead leaf litter and you grunt as you push through the numerous vines. You’d gotten separated from your fellow researcher and now you were additionally lost. You had no idea where your base camp was?

You knew this was a fucking bad idea; but the pay check was just too damn good. Now you know it was more likely incentive.

A pure voice alerts you through the shrubbery, “Goodness, don’t you look all bruised up! You’re rather far from your little camp, no?” You peer to your right-

Holy fuck, this man was beautiful.

[CLICK HERE]

———————-•••———————

2. YEONJUN:

Pairing: FallenAngel!Yeonjun x Researcher!reader

Contains: Dark themes, mentions of blood, injury, manipulation, captivity, slight possessive behaviour, lots of angst.

Genres: Dark fantasy, fantasy, romance, thriller, angst.

Summary: When you wanted someone to fall for you, this was not exactly what you meant. Your lips tremble as you see his hands press against the glass panel of his containment. He was merely just a specimen to your team right? He was the first ever fallen Angel caught alive.

You’d been used as the bait, immediately once they knew you’d found one. Heartbreakingly, you toyed with his heart and trapped him for research.

His dark eyes stare into your emptily as he gives you a smile, “I lost my wings for you, y/n. I won’t let you go that easily. Not after what you did to me.”

[CLICK HERE]

———————-•••———————

3. SOOBIN:

Pairing: Vampire!Soobin x Researcher!reader

Contains: Mentions of blood, injury, profanity.

Genres: Fantasy, romance, fluff, slice of life, comedy, slight angst.

Summary: You peer at your fellow researcher with slight suspicion. “Are you…okay?” He hums trying to avoid any eye contact with you. Sighing, you say, “You’re pale. Paler than usual I mean. Have you eaten? Had anything to drink?”

Soobin freezes, “What?” You scoff, “Blood, I mean?” The man seems to pale even more impossibly, “You know?” You start laughing, “Doesn’t everyone know?”

You realise he’s not laughing with you. You murmur awkwardly, “Wait, is it not obvious?” Soobin murmurs, “It’s not supposed to be, yeah.” “Oh.”

[CLICK HERE]

———————-•••———————

4. TAEHYUN:

Pairing: Siren!Taehyun x Researcher!reader

Contains: Profanity, manipulation, gaslighting, dark themes, possessiveness, violence.

Genres: dark fantasy, fantasy, thriller, romance

Summary: You had heard about numerous siren sightings upon this very beach; and you were determined to take a photo of at least one!

Perhaps, it was stupid, though, you were just ever so intrigued. After all this field of research was your specialty. Though, you’ve been here for two days and there’s still not single sight of one. Was your effort coming here going to got to waste?

A sudden voice breaks your thoughts, “My, my, are all humans this adorable when they space out?” You freeze instantly. No way.

[CLICK HERE]

———————-•••———————

5. BEOMGYU:

Pairing: Fae!Beomgyu x Researcher!reader

Contains: profanity, thriller elements, mentions of blood and injury, manipulation.

Genres: Romance, fluff, fantasy, slight enemies to lovers, dark fantasy,

Summary: Stepping up the rocky terrain you grunt clearly unimpressed with how you weren’t alone. “Come on, won’t you tell me your name, pretty please?” Deadpanning, you scoff, “Surely you don’t think I’m that stupid?”

The ethereal man pouts innocently but you knew there was true mischief behind it. His eyes glimmer stepping forward, “What’s in a name? I’ll tell you mine. Consider it an honour to know my name.”

Glaring you mutter, “No thanks, I’ll pass. I’m here to study the elves anyway, not you.” His eyes narrow, “Sorry, what?” His sweet tone changes making you snort.

[CLICK HERE]

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colormepurplex2 · 8 months

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Did It Hurt? | Flicker of Hope

↳ FallenAngel!Taehyung x LostSoul!f.Reader ⤜ Fallen Angel AU, Strangers to Lovers ⤜ Rating: MA 🔞 ⤜ WC: 15,057 ⚠️ Crass language, unwanted drunken advances, being drugged, blackmail, descriptions of past sexual acts, hidden desires, criminal activity, alluded to SA & potential human trafficking/disappearances, Tae has feelings he’s trying to suppress, scars/vulnerability over past incidents

Next Chapter⇾ ⇽Previous Chapter ◅ Back to series masterlist

Taehyung, 100 years into exile, somewhere in Los Angeles

“Did it hurt?”

The words barely carry over the clamor of the nightclub. But, to Taehyung, they’re as clear as if they were spoken right into his ear. It makes his lips twist in disgust. Because who actually uses that line anymore?

Taehyung flicks his eyes over the scene in front of him. It’s a Friday night, and the place is filled with gyrating bodies and thumping bass. Some frat-boy wannabe is practically crawling into the lap of the goddess—and that’s thought with the utmost respect because it’s precisely what she looks like in her sleek black minidress, vibrant auburn curls, smokey makeup, and red-bottomed heels—sitting at the bar, trying to enjoy her fruity cocktail.

The way she angles her body away from the guy and pointedly stabs the little plastic red saber from her drink into a chunk of pineapple floating on top should be sign enough for the douchebag to clearly see she’s not interested.

“Idiot,” Taehyung murmurs under his breath before bringing his whisky on the rocks to his lips and taking a measured sip. He drums his fingers on the lacquered tabletop where he’s seated at one of the hightops a few feet away. This is one of his usual haunts, a place with the perfect blend of class and an underlying taste of debauchery. It should be the ideal hunting ground, however it remains to be fruitful. Though, perhaps his luck is about to change.

“Come on, baby, don’t be like that. Humor me. Did it hurt?”

There is a moment of hesitation with how the woman’s shoulders hitch up, and Taehyung watches as varying emotions flick across her face before she trains it back to a neutral expression. He can read her like an open book; too bad Douchebag can’t seem to. She’ll entertain him simply to avoid confrontation and make a scene. It's supposedly a polite way to try and thwart unwanted male attention; he’s seen it far too many times before.

“Did what hurt?” comes the exasperated reply. Her lips twitch into a strained smile that’s more of a grimace which Douchebag probably mistakes for being coy. The way her body curls in on itself, and she leans away from his pawing hands, makes Taehyung grind his molars. Human men are stupid; it's no wonder he’s had such a hard time finding any redeeming opportunities in the world.

“When you fell from heaven, angel.”

And there it is. Taehyung rolls his eyes, finishing his drink. “Insipid fool, of course it hurts to fall from Heaven,” he grumbles. A burning, phantom itch crawls up his spine, a reminder of just how much it hurts. It’s a moment in time that he relives every time he closes his eyes. Which, perhaps, can be blamed for why he’s grown so callous and flippant over the years. Nightmares will do that to someone, Seraphim or not.

“Does that really work?” the woman bites out before downing the rest of her drink and shoving the empty glass away. She’s out of her seat and trying to give Douchebag a wide berth before his snail brain can even catch up with her words.

It’s comical watching him finally get it. He throws his head back and guffaws loudly before stumbling in her direction. She goes to sidestep around him but is stopped short when she bumps into a barstool someone just slid back as they stood. Douchebag crowds her against the bar, and Taehyung is tempted to intervene, but something niggles at the back of his mind; he’s curious about what she’ll do.

“You tell me, is it working, angel?”

A saccharine smile curves her lips, baring her teeth in a mockery of flirtation. Taehyung wishes he could read her as easily as he did earlier, but somehow, she’s masking her emotions and intentions to the point her form nearly blurs across his vision.

“That remains to be seen. How about you let me try?” Her words are light and airy, intentionally being falsely sweet. Douchebag’s alcohol-soaked brain doesn’t pick up on the trap he’s about to fall into. Taehyung is thrilled. “Did it hurt?” she asks, batting her eyelashes at him. “Did what hurt?” Douchebag asks, teeth sinking into his bottom lip in what he surely believes is a sexy manner, but Taehyung thinks it comes off more like he’s constipated. “Me kneeing you in the balls.”

The words accompany the action. Her right knee comes up, and all Taehyung can see from this angle is the sudden doubling over of Douchebag. He sways heavily to the side, unsteady on his feet, as the woman pushes by him, a triumphant smile half-hidden behind a hand as she disappears into the crowd.

“How clever,” Taehyung muses to himself. He spares one last glance at the man still cupping the front of his jeans before following the tug of intrigue that’s swiftly escaping on 6-inch heels. He catches sight of the woman just as she slips out the front entrance of the bar.

It’s easy to pick her out on the sidewalk. Even if it weren’t for the distinct click-clack of her shoes on the pavement, he’d be able to follow her by sheer feeling alone. It’s been decades since he’s felt someone so clearly, so viscerally. Taehyung can’t stop until his curiosity has been satiated.

The woman doesn’t hail a taxi or head toward a railway station. She only goes a few city blocks down before she cuts across the street, her eyes flicking both ways as she crosses to the luxury apartment building on the corner.

Taehyung catches the flash of a sleek black and red card as she passes the porter. “Evening, ma’am.” The guard gives her a nod before bringing his attention back to the sidewalk.

There can only be one place that card gains her access to—the top floor penthouse. Taehyung gives the surrounding block a cursory glance, looking for the perfect vantage point. He appraises the angle of the top floor windows before skirting around the back of the building and quickly vaulting over the security fence. If his presence raises an alarm, he’s unaware of it as no one appears to question him.

It’s typical of these kinds of places. There is plenty of security on the front side, with no open windows and no direct buildings across that will allow someone to peep in on the residence. But, on the backside, past all the lavish greenery and the immaculate tennis and basketball courts? Taehyung glances up at the zigzag of the fire escape on the building directly behind the condominium highrise. Just as he expected, all it will take is him climbing the iron platforms, and he’ll have the perfect view through the backside of the penthouse.

He begins his ascent, easily pulling himself up and over the railing of the fire escape and making quick work of the several stories until he lines himself with the one he needs. The condominium is a few floors shorter than the building he’s scaling, making it even more comical that there is so little thought put into the security back here. Anyone worth their merit could do precisely what he’s doing. It’s laughable…and alarming.

Settling in on the fire escape platform of the eighth floor, he glances around to be sure whoever is attached to this particular landing won’t stumble across him somehow. The curtains over the windows are drawn, with no lights coming from within. Taking a calming breath of the tepid night air, he dangles his feet over the edge of the platform and rests his arms on one of the support bars of the railing.

Unsurprisingly, he made it up here faster than the woman, who he presumes must have taken the elevator. He’s always been known for his speed, even more so when he’s on the prowl for something. He might have lost his wings, but he’s kept nearly everything else: speed, heightened senses, and a penchant for picking up on the emotions of others. It’s insufferable, being neither mortal nor fully immortal, but a mockery of something in between.

From his vantage point, he can only see the penthouse’s elaborate sprawl of patio, the pool, and the bank of floor-to-ceiling windows that make up the entire back wall. The inside is dark save for the soft blue LED lights from the sleek kitchen appliances and an under-glow along the bottom of what he assumes is a flatscreen TV on the wall.

A few minutes pass, and then Taehyung watches as the light from the upper elevator lobby spills into the space, illuminating a sliver of the grossly opulent penthouse. The woman flicks a switch on a panel on the wall by the entry, and the living space floods with bright, white light. Everything is modern, with sleek lines and glaring metal.

Confusion makes Taehyung tuck his bottom lip between his teeth as he tries to connect the decadent, vivacious creature that the woman is with such a jarring and emotionless space. It doesn’t make sense. Unless…

Taehyung smiles as he watches the woman pull out a black leather billfold from where it is hidden in her cleavage. She flips it open, briefly thumbing through the thick wad of cash and the pockets dense with credit cards. Even from this distance, with his heightened vision, he can clearly make out the license behind the plastic pocket. The smiling face belongs to none other than Douchebag from the bar. She picked his pocket. Taehyung can’t help but laugh with delight.

And now Taehyung is almost sure he knows why the penthouse doesn’t look like it belongs to her. It excites him to consider the prospect of finally getting an inkling of the mysterious puzzle that this goddess has become for him. In fact, he’s reasonably certain if he waits just a little bit longer, it will be confirmed.

A noise Taehyung can’t hear must draw her attention because she shoves the wallet back into her cleavage before spinning around. The door to the penthouse swings open, revealing a well-dressed businessman with a slimy grin on his face. Taehyung hopes all the more that he’s right about his guess.

The familiarity the man has with the place says it all. He tosses a set of keys onto the table by the entryway and toes off his brown leather brogues while undoing the buttons of his brown and cream tweed jacket. The jacket gets hung up in a closet, though the man’s eyes never leave the woman standing in the open living space. Her back is to Taehyung, so he can only guess that she’s speaking to the man with how he reacts and how attentive he’s being.

A predatory smile slowly forms on the man’s face as he advances on the woman. She stands her ground, her shoulders rolling slightly back as her chin tilts up. Before the man can grab her, she deftly moves to the side and pointedly directs herself to a wet bar across the living room. The man laughs, though it is silent to Taehyung’s ears, the thick double-paned glass proving to be more than even his hearing can work through.

It plays out like a silent comedy before Taehyung: the man gabs on, gesturing animatedly with his hands, probably boasting about his latest business conquest. At the same time, the woman remains silent, pouring him a finger of scotch. What the man doesn’t notice, for all his attention being focused mainly on himself, is the small packet of powder the woman produces that ends up tipped into the scotch glass.

She turns with a false smile on her face, offering the drink to the man. He takes it with a flourish and downs all the contents in one gulp. Carelessly tossing the glass to the side, where it lands on the leather sofa, he reaches for her again, only to come up short as he stumbles. He’s on his knees before he can right himself, a look of pure bewildered confusion on his face before his eyes roll into the back of his head, and he pitches forward in a heavy heap.

Taehyung smiles, his curiosity doubling as he tries to piece together what might happen next. What started as a bit of entertainment at the bar has come full circle into a spectacular show that Taehyung is grateful he has a front-row seat to. Maybe he’s finally getting a break after nearly one hundred years of searching. Perhaps this is his path back into the Arms of Grace…or the failure that will seal his fate in the 9th Circle. He sighs, resting his chin on his forearm where it’s draped over the support bar of the railing, and waits patiently.

🤍🤍🤍

Roy Simmons is an arrogant pig; there’s no doubt about that. Even passed out the way he is with his mouth open and drool beginning to drip from the corner of his lips, he still looks every bit like an asshole, which is precisely why you’re doing what you’re doing. He’s just the next rung on a long ladder of revenge.

This is your third time coming to Roy’s place. The first was to establish contact, the second was simply to dig your claws into him a little more, and now you’re ready for the grand finale. But, it’s not like you want to be here, not really. It’s just a means to an end. Well, multiple endings. It puts a stop to creeps like Roy from hurting innocent people, but it also puts you one step closer, the final step really, to him—Lorren Bianchi, the man responsible for the death of your best friend, Danika.

She died two years ago at the hands of Bianchi. It was supposed to be a routine night, just something to earn a little extra money as Danika put herself through nursing school. She had become an escort; nothing serious, just being arm candy for rich men. But, it went sideways…really sideways when she met Lorren Bianchi. The man put a leash around Danika’s neck and never let her go. It still pains you to think about it. The only balm to ease the ache is the prospect of watching him suffer the way she did.

Roy works for Bianchi. As have all the other losers you’ve sunk your teeth into over the last two years. They’re all part of the same end game. You’re climbing your own corporate ladder of sorts; one built from blackmail and seething hate. Speaking of which, you turn back to Roy, shoving his shoulder with your heel until he rolls over onto his back.

Grabbing his wrists, you heave and jerk until you manage to drag him across the floor and into the adjoining main bedroom. This penthouse is the one he uses when he wants a night away from his wife, which is more often than not. You know he gave her an excuse tonight of working late so he’d just crash at his downtown place before coming home tomorrow morning for the weekend.

It makes you feel bad thinking about the woman who attached herself to such a despicable man and how you’ve knowingly slept with her husband. But, it’s honestly the leverage you need to take Roy down. You know they signed a hefty prenup, required by her father when they got married. The perks of coming from another well-to-do business family, you suppose. If something happens, she walks away with over half his money and holdings in the business. He would go from being in the top ten wealthiest men in the city to just another blip on the radar. Which is why you know he’ll crack; he’ll give you exactly what you want.

Maneuvering him onto the bed is nearly as tricky as it is to strip off his clothing. You think maybe you should have waited to drug him until he was already naked and on the bed, but hindsight is twenty-twenty. Finally, once you’ve gotten him positioned into the middle of the bed, his pasty, fleshy body spread eagle, you dig for the restraints you know he has installed in the posts. You tighten them around his ankles and wrists, perhaps a little tighter than they should go, but you can’t find it in you to care; let him hurt.

Because he’s a sick fuck, you know there is also video recording equipment in the closet. The asshole has an entire box full of discs labeled with not names, no, but features. Big tits, round ass, blue eyes, braids, chin dimple…the list goes on, each DVD with their own scrawl in permanent marker. You stumbled across them the second time you were here when you managed to put him into a drunken stupor to the point he passed out in the shower, leaving you to snoop.

You were looking for anything that might hold a list of his personal contacts. In the end, you found that and so much more, which is why you bumped up your finale for Mr. Simmons. The sooner you take him down, the quicker his grubby hands stay to himself, and he can’t lure in any more unsuspecting women.

Grabbing the tripod from the closet, you position your phone on the contraption, angling it to get a full view of the bed. As you stand there, assessing your work, you get a weird tingling sensation between your shoulder blades. Oddly, you feel like you’re being watched. Though, you know, being in the penthouse, that should be impossible. There is no building directly behind the condominium.

No matter how much you twitch your shoulders and tell yourself to ignore the sensation, it won't disappear. So, to humor yourself, you turn and peer out the floor-to-ceiling windows that make up the back wall of the bedroom. The glass stretches across the entire backside, broken up only by the backdoor and the vertical supports between each giant pane.

All you can see is the back patio. The lip of the pool is just barely visible, highlighted by the twinkling fairy lights strung around the garden. The closest building is easily a city block and a half away, with enough room for tennis and basketball courts to separate the condominium property and the next building. It would only be possible for someone to be watching you if they had some sort of telephoto lens or something.

But that would mean Roy knew, or someone else figured it out and had been following you. Which, at this point, let them watch. You have enough evidence to bury half the city as it is. What you’re doing might be illegal; blackmailing someone is never smiled upon, you don’t think. However, you’re confident you’d get a clap on the back for a job well done instead of a clap on the wrist with a bit of metal.

Roy begins to groan and shift around on the bed. Which means it’s showtime.

You click the button to record as soon as he utters, “What the fuck?” Only it comes out half coherent and accompanied by a generous dribble of saliva down his chin. It would be just like him to look like a blubbering man-baby as he comes to. He’s whimpering between mutters, finally gaining enough coherency to realize what’s happening.

“Hello, Roy,” you say, drawing his attention to where you stand behind the tripod holding your phone.

“Ginger,” Roy sighs what he believes is your name, in relief. “Ginger, baby, what are you up to? Is this some new kink you want to try out? I have to say, I don’t know if I’m a fan.” He chuckles nervously, tugging at the restraints. “Loosen these for me, will you, baby?”

“What’s the matter, Roy, don’t like being the helpless one?”

He smirks, tugging more, trying to sit up. The ties are tight, leaving little slack for him to move much other than his central bulk. His hips flex, the flabby meat of his stomach jiggling as he wiggles around. “Okay, baby, I’ll bite. What do I gotta do to get you to take these off?”

“Do you remember what we did last weekend?” you muse softly, laying the first layer of the trap.

Roy gives you an appreciative up and down. “You mean when I shoved your face in the pillow and pounded your sassy little tail until you screamed? Or how about when I shoved my cock so far down your throat that you gagged?”

You internally roll your eyes, not wanting to break character just yet. “Sure, Roy, what else?”

“Let’s see. Oh, can’t forget how I sprayed my cum all over those pretty tits of yours before I made you rub it into your skin.” The flaccid appendage between his thighs gives a jerk. “That was probably my favorite part.”

Your skin crawls at the memory. You nearly scalded yourself in the shower once you got home, turning the water so hot it made you cry out, and the heat lingered long after. “I’m not the first, though, am I? The first you’ve done all that with, I mean.”

“Awe, Ginger, baby, all those other women meant nothing to me. You’re my favorite. Now, let me show you just how much I love that tight body of yours. Untie me.”

You step to the side of the tripod, and Roy’s eyes light up in triumph. “Hmm...I don’t think I will. Not until you give me what I want, at least.”

Roy wiggles his hips. “Come take what you want, baby.”

You can’t help but laugh, the peeling litany echoing through the room as you give in to the dark humor of the situation. “Oh, Roy, that’s hilarious. You could be a comedian.”

The smile slowly leeches from his face, and lines appear between his brows as he narrows them. “What the hell are you going on about? Untie me. Now.”

“It’s simple, Roy. The last thing I want is your wimpy dick. Once was enough and quite pitiful, I might add. Though, while we’re on the subject of sticking your dick in places, why don’t you say ‘hello’ to Miriam and explain to her why we’re even having this particular conversation?” You nod at the phone on the tripod.

He pales, sweat popping up along his receding hairline. “You’re lying.”

“Oh, how I wish I were,” you say, reciting off Miriam’s phone number to prove how much you’re not. “All I have to do is hit send, Roy, and you can kiss seventy-five percent of your assets goodbye. Prenups are a bitch, huh? If I’m not mistaken, part of it specifically says no affairs or adultery of any kind. Hell, with that, she might even try to take more than that for simply being the disgusting asshole that you are.”

His struggle stops, and you can audibly hear him swallow. “What do you want from me?” he asks, licking his trembling lips.

You reach back and turn off the recording, quickly sending it off to several different places, so you have copies just in case. You tell Roy just as much, giving him a pointed look when he tries to open his mouth to protest. “What I want is very simple, Roy,” you begin before laying it all out for him. His eyes grow wide as you explain, shaking his head in protest with each additional request until you’re almost sure tears are gathering in his eyes.

“That’s impossible,” he whispers thickly.

“You better hope it’s not, for your own sake.” You grab your phone and turn to leave, knowing the maid will find him when she comes by to clean in the morning. “Oh, and Roy?” You glance back over your shoulder at him, “Don’t do anything stupid, like trying to find a way out of this. You deliver, or I do.” You shake your phone, waving it at him as a reminder of what you have.

🤍🤍🤍

Taehyung

In all his years among mortals, he’s never found himself so wholly and utterly intrigued. There have been instances, especially in the early years of his exile, where he found himself hounding after anyone who even remotely seemed like a redemption opportunity. He salivated at the prospect of serving his time and swiftly regaining his wings.

Heavens Above, there was even a time when Taehyung thought perhaps if he could find a damned soul and deliver them as soon as possible, it would curry favor with his Brothers, and they would welcome him back sooner than his one-hundred prospected years. He gave up that pipe dream around the twenty-year mark.

It’s not that he’s grown to enjoy the mortal plane, not exactly. There’s just something freeing about being able to live a little and breathe deeper without worrying about stepping on toes or crossing some divine line drawn in the sand. These thoughts are kept personal, of course.

Taehyung knows if his Brothers ever caught wind of his musings and the way he’s grown to resent them over the years, they’d slam the Pearly Gates and throw away the key along with his wings, which are probably covered in dust and molting away in a corner somewhere. That phantom itch comes alive once more, lingering heat and pain web across his shoulders before he can stop it.

Directing his focus back on the woman, he watches as she saunters from the room, all haughty confidence and severity. It’s not until she’s out of sight of the pitiful man on the bed that her shoulders droop like there’s a heavy weight bearing down on them. He can see it now, something he was distracted from before; there is a haggardness around her bright eyes and a tightness around the curve of her lips.

A sensation he hasn’t felt since—well, since one hundred years ago—twists in his chest as he watches her dig through the coat closet by the door. Taehyung’s brows draw down as she pulls out a backpack and stands there staring down at it. The fact she’s lingering in the penthouse worries him. He’s unsure what she’s doing or what the bag is for. She didn’t come in with anything that he could see, no purse or clutch. Spinning on her heel, she marches back to the bedroom, startling the man on the bed. He starts to yell at her, Taehyung thinks, based on how wide his mouth opens and how red he grows in the face.

It’s comical, watching the man cut off whatever he’s saying and nearly swallow his tongue when the woman holds up her phone threateningly. Taehyung wasn’t sure what was going on at first, but he’s slowly been putting together the pieces, he believes.

She moves to the closet, stooping down to the point Taehyung can only see the red bottoms of her heels and the barest hint of the curve of her ass. He swallows hard, tucking away the tempting thought that springs up with that appraisal. Sexual deviance is what landed him where he is. It’s a fine line to walk, which he’s mostly avoided for the last hundred years.

A few moments later, she emerges from the closet, the backpack bulging. The man closes his eyes, his lips pressed into a trembling line as she moves back across the room and exits once again. This time, she doesn’t stop, swiftly making her escape through the front door.

Taehyung looks down, contemplating how long it’ll take him to descend and make it back to the front side of the building in time to catch the woman coming out. He stands up, lightly brushing his hands along his slacks, and absently smoothes his white dress shirt. He might have dressed a little more appropriately if he had known he was going on such an adventure tonight. As it is, the suede Tom Ford loafers on his feet have acquired some scuffs and unsightly stains.

Before he can lament over his shoes anymore, he quickly makes his way down the zig-zag of the fire escape. Taking his time, he traverses the condominium grounds and easily climbs back over the fence before leisurely strolling down the service alley and onto the sidewalk just as the front door swings open and the porter bids a good evening to the goddess. If the porter finds it odd she is leaving with a bag she didn’t go in with, he doesn’t mention it.

Following a dozen feet behind, Taehyung watches as the woman slings the backpack over a shoulder and takes off at a brisk pace down the sidewalk. Again, she doesn’t hail a taxi or head toward a railway station. She either lives nearby or perhaps has an ulterior motive to avoiding those places in particular.

Considering his long legs and stride, it doesn’t take much to keep up with her. The heels slow her down considerably as well, but Taehyung also realizes that she’s on the slighter side, height mostly being attributed to said shoes, it seems. It’s hard not to watch her body bounce and sway because of them, too. They cause an exaggerated sway to her hips, which already seem quite daring on their own.

Clearing his throat, he forces himself to think of something other than her hips, like what’s in that bag that was so important she chose to go back into that bedroom. Taehyung’s curiosity doesn’t need to last long as she turns down the next cross street and approaches a nondescript apartment building. There is no porter out front, just a simple iron gate in front of a quaint garden that she gains access through with a keycode.

If he were anyone else, he would miss the code completely, being several yards behind her. But he’s not anyone else; he’s Taehyung—a fallen angel complete with heightened senses, including eyesight. 1306, and he has just as much access as she does. Perhaps it should feel like a violation of her privacy, but considering what he witnessed her doing earlier, he feels it’s mildly justified. Now, to just get a little closer.

“Hello? Excuse me?” Taehyung calls out, shoving his hand in his pocket and grabbing whatever his fingers close around. He glances at his hand, noting the two rumpled one hundred dollar bills now pinched in his fingers. “I believe you dropped these just a moment ago as you crossed the street.”

Cool, calculating eyes flick over him before landing on the proffered bills. She didn’t drop them, but if anything he’s observed proves helpful, he’s reasonably sure she’ll take the bills–the bait–anyway.

Her appraising gaze settles on his eyes for a moment as if she’s trying to gauge whether or not he’s a threat before they dip to the money again. She hesitates only a second, long enough that Taehyung knows she’s far more competent than he gave her credit for. She’s cautious, which is good.

“Hm,” she softly hums. “So I did. Thank you.”

The touch of her skin against his is electric, a zing that he’s experienced a few times over the last century. It’s the feel of a soul on the brink of disaster, a subtle taste of darkness lingering around her edges. Taehyung doesn’t immediately release the bills, wanting to brand the feel of her fingers brushing alongside his for as long as possible.

“You’re welcome…” he trails off, raising his brows and tilting his chin in question.

“Ginger,” she offers, a fake smile straining her lips as she gives a sharp tug to the money, pulling it from his fingers.

The name grates, sliding over his mind like razors. A lie; of course she would give a false name. It’s poised on the tip of his tongue to call her bluff, to implore for her real name, but he knows he needs to tread lightly with this one.

“Ginger,” he repeats, the name pinching his tongue with the lie. “Charmed. I’m Taehyung, Kim,” he tacks on to see if the name might trigger something for her.

Her eyes flick over him once more, what might be mistaken as recognition flashing in their depths. “Yeah, okay. Thanks again, Taehyung. Have a good evening.”

It’s a dismissal. He knows that and can sense the unease that’s thrumming from her body, so he relents. Stepping back, he nods his head and makes to go back down the sidewalk from the direction he approached. “You, too,” he calls over his shoulder to the already empty sidewalk.

Taehyung stops just shy of the next building, listening to the telltale signs that she’s gone in. The soft snick of metal, the hushed tap of her heels over the front welcome mat, the equally quiet click of the door opening, and her murmured “fucking hell” before she steals away beyond it.

It’s easy to follow, punching in the four-digit code he observed. “Seventh floor,” Taehyung murmurs to himself as he watches the digital display above the elevator stop. It’s fitting, he thinks, considering she was just on the seventh floor of that highrise, binding that businessman to the bed. Maybe seven is her lucky number. He hopes so; he’s partial to it himself.

🤍🤍🤍

Tonight could have gone much better, but it wasn’t a complete disaster either. An easy smirk slides onto your face when you toss the two hundred dollars on the dining table. “What a fucking idiot,” you muse to yourself, proceeding to drop off your other winnings for the night. Douchebag’s wallet makes a satisfying thud on the glass surface, thick with cash and untold possibilities. “If you wanted to give up two just to say ‘hi’, I won’t complain.” Though there is something you feel you should know, something about his name almost seemed familiar.

You shrug and turn your attention to everything else. Fingering the zipper on the backpack sobers you quickly, the random encounter downstairs disappearing from your thoughts completely. The DVD collection is far less enjoyable of a prize tonight. It’s daunting to think about how long it will take to try and track down the victims. Because that’s what they are to you. Even if they knew about the recordings, which you’re certain most didn’t, it still feels like a gross violation that Roy hoarded them like sick treasures.

“So itchy,” you grump, grabbing a fistful of the stark auburn curls atop your head. With achingly slow movements, you ease the wig away. The tape and glue tug, but with a practiced hand, you finally get it off with minimal irritation. It joins the pile on the table, to be dealt with when you have more energy. Right now, all you want is a shower and your bed.

You don’t bother turning on any of the lights, intimately comfortable in your own space that you can navigate it with your eyes closed. Abandoning your heels by the table, you shrug out of the body-hugging dress, leaving it in a puddle somewhere between the living room and your bedroom, and make your way to the bathroom.

All you want to do is take a shower and fall into a near-comatose state for the next twenty-four hours while you wait for Roy to deliver. The shower part goes well; the hot water helps to relax the anxiety and tension that seem to reside permanently in your shoulders.

However, once you slip beneath the duvet and close your eyes for sleep, your body feels like it’s high-strung with electricity. Restlessness hums beneath your skin. Not wanting to spend the next several hours trying to convince your body it needs sleep, you feel around in the side drawer of your nightstand until you find what you want.

The sleeping pills go down dry; you don’t have the energy to get up and grab a glass of water. Now, to just wait for them to take effect. You fuss with the edge of the duvet, folding the fabric and rubbing it between your fingers over and over. The goosedown and satin set is one of the only luxuries you’ve allowed yourself over the last two years. It’s not that you’re punishing yourself. You just don’t want to waste extra time or energy on creature comforts when so much still needs to be done.

Your chest aches every time you stop to think about Danika. She would berate you for spending so much time focused on her rather than going out there and living your life. You just can’t help it; in many ways, you feel responsible for what happened. Sure, you didn’t make Lorren Bianchi kill her, but you might as well have delivered her right into his murderous hands.

It was your idea to sign up for the escort service, swearing it was just for fun and extra money; that surely all those movies and shows were just being dramatic for cinematic reasons. Oh, how you wish that were the case.

Not a single day goes by that you don’t think about how much you wish it were just an exaggeration. The icing on the cake, though? Lorren was supposed to be your client. But you got your schedule mixed up and overbooked yourself that night. Danika said she could use the extra cash and volunteered to take the commitment.

Everything changed after that. Lorren poured thousands of dollars into wining and dining Danika over the next few months. She slowly started to pull away, spending time with him even outside the allotted dates scheduled with the service.

Then, one day, you woke up, and she hadn’t returned to your shared apartment. It was excruciating waiting an entire twenty-four hours before calling the cops and an even worse week waiting for them to do something. They never did. It wasn’t until a month after you first reported her missing that something happened. Her body was found, floating down the Los Angeles River just outside Burbank. Strangled, tossed out with the trash.

You’ll never forget being called in to identify her remains. Danika had no family, just you. Her parents moved to the States from Russia when she was just a few years old. They both passed the summer before sophomore year in high school, putting her in the foster system. You met her freshman year of college. She was your dorm mate and started off so quiet and reserved. Little did you know she was just trying not to fall apart on the inside.

One night, you came in late from a cram session in the library to find her crying, sitting in the middle of the floor with faded family photos arrayed around her. She tried to apologize and beg off talking, but you slowly coaxed her into opening up. You had been inseparable ever since.

It’s not fair. She was far too young and had so much more to give in life. Graduation was just around the corner when it all came crumbling down. You try to summon the memory of her laugh, just to have something to cling to, but it’s muted as your thoughts grow fuzzy. The memories fade, and the pain and ache from the loss of Danika washed away on a pill-laden sleep.

🤍🤍🤍

Taehyung

It’s been two hours since you–his goddess–disappeared upstairs. He doesn’t stop to think about how he’s already considering you to be his; it just feels right. And who is he to question that? Taehyung has long since stopped sending up prayers; they are never answered anyway. However, for some reason, he finds himself taking a moment to center himself, which consists of a quick mutterance of peace. It’ll have to do.

There are four units on the seventh floor. But it’s easy enough to guess which belongs to you. Two of the doors are decorated in full-blown holiday decor, bright colors and themed welcome mats. He doesn’t have to know you deeply to understand that’s not your style. The last two are more similar. Though, the closer he looks, the more evident it is which unit is yours, considering the ‘BYOB, bring your own babes’ welcome mat situated in front of one. For some reason, he doesn’t think that’s quite your style, either. The far more plain, yet inviting, ‘welcome’ is his guess.

The lock on the door is easy to pick. There is no security, no cameras or electronic keypads, which would ruffle his feathers—if he still had them. He’ll have to address that later, once he’s established himself within your life somehow.

The door to your apartment opens on silent hinges once he slides the small set of tools back into his wallet. They’re something he took to carrying around after locking himself out of his own place one too many times. A key is so easily lost, such a small, tedious, and fumbly little thing; even tucked in his wallet, it would often fall out.

Taehyung doesn’t have friends, per se, so it’s not like he can let someone hang on to a spare for him. He used to luxuriate in the solitude, spending countless hours sequestered behind closed doors as a means to reflect on his actions and seek repentance. Now, though, he realizes he’s grown quite lonely—no time like the present to change that.

Closing the door just as softly behind him, he toes off his shoes and takes in the space around him. He can tell instantly that he was right in this being your place, it smells of you. It’s not as lavish or garishly expensive as the penthouse was, but it’s also relatively devoid of personality. There is no permanence to the place. Very minimal, and as if you could easily pick up one moment and be gone without a thought of much effort.

So, you’re a runner. Or some close equivalent. That could prove troublesome for him if you decide to pick up and move off now that whatever game you were playing with the sleazeball from the penthouse seems to be done. He’s not sure how easy it would be for him to track you. So, he now wonders, is there anything else keeping you here? He hopes to find the answer to that somewhere among your scant things.

It doesn’t take long to browse through the kitchen and the living room. There are only a few dishes in the cabinets, nothing fancy, just the basics. There is a sofa in the living room and a small flatscreen TV sitting on the floor. The thin layer of dust sitting on the remote lets him know you don’t spend your free time keeping up with the latest TV drama.

The space is minimally furnished, but there is still a class to it. It’s a newer building, and the living area is expansive compared to most places in the city proper. The dining table sits between the kitchen and living room, holding the only items that seem to be remotely interesting.

Taehyung recognizes the backpack and the billfold. Derrek Lanier, a fitting name for Douchebag. He sets the wallet back down, going for the bag next. It’s filled with DVD cases; the matte covers all sporting white stickers with handwritten titles. However, titles are a loose interpretation of what these seem to be. The labels all just list physical features instead of proper names. Taehyung almost wishes he had visited the penthouse after you left. This isn’t painting a pretty picture for the guy.

Before his anger can get the best of him and make him abandon this in favor of doing just that, his eye catches on a pile of red fluffy curls sitting behind the backpack. He fingers a ringlet, holding back a chuckle when he realizes it’s a wig. It's a very fine, quality wig. He’s pleasantly surprised. What other astounding things do you have waiting for him? He’s even more eager to get to your bedroom now.

The hardwood floor is cold under his socked feet as they whisper down the hall. There are three doors, two closed and one ajar. Peeking into the open door, he gives the bathroom a once over. It’s clean, smelling lightly of floral body wash with an underlying burn of bleach.

Taking his chance on the first closed door, he slowly turns the knob and pushes it open. The room beyond is empty, completely devoid of furniture or belongings. The air feels stale, like the room is never used, perhaps even forgotten. He’s just about to turn and close the door when he notices that the closet door of the room is not closed all the way.

Perhaps it's his curiosity about why the door is open when no one is clearly using this room, or maybe it’s a sixth sense Taehyung has that draws him to it. But he gnaws his bottom lip for a moment before stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. He approaches the closet tentatively, readying himself for disappointment.

The click of the light switch sounds muted in comparison to the gasp he emits when light floods the small space of the closet. If he weren’t so distracted, he might have cursed himself for being so careless like that.

“Hells Fire,” he whispers, taking in the four walls completely covered in pictures, sticky notes, and sheets of paper.

It’s like something straight out of a crime show. He’s wiled away enough hours consuming that kind of brain rot to know. The only thing missing is the red yarn stretching between push pins connecting the scatter of photos.

It’s a murder board. That much is clear, though. Some of the images have red Xs drawn on them. Looking close enough, he recognizes some of the faces—well-to-do businessmen, just like the one from tonight. There are a few scanner copies of autopsy reports and some X-ray photos, though none look masculine. As far as he’s aware, none of these men have died. They’re all still very much alive and still very wealthy.

So, maybe not a murder board…but what?

Pulling out his phone, Taehyung takes a few photos of the display, hoping to be able to spend more time deciphering it when he’s not sneaking around your apartment with the risk of getting caught.

A small cardboard box sits in a corner. Taehyung peels back one of the flaps, peeking inside. There are two pictures, both in frames, a small wooden jewelry box, and a deflated Valentine balloon still attached to the plastic stick.

Grabbing one of the frames, Taehyung squints at the grainy, dated photo. It’s of a man and a woman, the sepia tones indicating its age. There is some water damage along the edges, as if the image were saved from a damp space before being put into the simple black frame.

The other frame is more stylish, reminiscent of the 90s, with rainbow flowers and smiley faces around the rim. He recognizes one of the two girls in the picture. At least, he believes it’s a younger version of you. The girl has the same eyes, if more full of life, and the same mouth, just less severe.

The girls are laughing, arms wrapped around each other as they face the camera. Taehyung can’t help but smile as he looks at it. Their joy infectious even through a snapshot like this. He brushes a finger over your smile before letting his digit swipe over the platinum blond hair of the other girl. Her twinkling blue eyes pour into the camera, holding a vibrancy that speaks of a careless and loving attitude.

A line forms between Taehyung's brows. The longer he looks at the photo, the more it sparks a recollection. Straightening from where he was crouching down beside the box, he holds up the picture and looks from it to the wall and back again–searching.

Dread, a cold trickle, seeps down his spine when he realizes why the girl looks familiar. Looking closer, he compares the black and white photocopy from the autopsy report to the smiling blonde in the frame. It’s easier to connect the dots now. Clearly, something happened to this girl—Danika Petrov, according to the report—and you’re out for revenge of some sort.

Shaking his head, Taehyung takes a quick shot of the photo in his hand before returning it to the box and turning out the light. He’s learned a lot, far more than he thought he would. There’s a lot to mull over. But first, he has one more place he wishes to explore before he leaves.

Taehyung is extra quiet as he eases the door open to your bedroom. It’s just as devoid of things as everywhere else. Your bed sits against one wall, centered between two heavily curtained windows. The mound in the middle of the bed calls to him. But, first things first, a look around so he doesn’t miss anything with the distraction.

There is no bathroom attached, just a walk-in closet that holds scant clothing and shoes. The single bedside table has a phone, lamp, and a white pill bottle sitting on it. Upon closer inspection, Taehyung sees that the bottle is sleeping pills. It makes him curious about what kind of nightmares you have in order to need assistance sleeping. With everything he’s seen so far, he doesn’t have to imagine much.

Easing open the small drawer on the nightstand, he smiles in triumph. Peeking out under the corner of some miscellaneous items, a blank notepad, pen, hair ties, tweezers, and a tube of lip balm, he sees the edge of a passport. Delicately extracting the tiny book, he flips it open and beholds the most coveted information he could have hoped to find.

There, displayed before him, is all your information. Your legal name–well, that is unless this is a fake, and at which, if it is, then Taehyung has to admit it’s a damn good fake–date of birth, birthplace, it’s all the basics he needs.

Movement on the bed beside him makes him freeze, not even daring to breathe as you roll over and unconsciously push the duvet down around your waist. You sleep in the nude. Of course you do. Taehyung swallows thickly, eyes glued to your sleeping form. It’s like you’re begging him to screw this up, to make a mistake.

Biting his tongue until he tastes the tang of blood, he tears his gaze away from your pebbling nipples and deftly replaces the passport, making his escape back into your living room. He’s breathing hard, heart beating erratically in his chest. The front of his trousers is tight, uncomfortable, as he battles against his baser desires.

You’d think being a holy being would mean he had better control over these things. Apparently, Angels–even fallen ones–are just as culpable of unholy thoughts as humans—guilt twists in his chest. It’s things like this that are what landed him here, to begin with.

Shoving aside the intruding thoughts and feelings, he smoothes a hand down the front of his dress shirt before shoving his feet back into his shoes. Now, he has an idea of who you are and what your game is. He just needs to figure out how to make himself a part of it—starting with finding out more about Danika; she seems to be central to your motivations, and now she’s part of his.

🤍🤍🤍

It’s disconcerting to wake up and feel like someone has invaded your space. Yet, nothing is amiss no matter where you look or how hard you try to find something. It’s similar to what you felt last night in Roy’s penthouse, that itch between your shoulder blades like someone had eyes on you, except now it feels like they’re beneath your skin; just a breath away.

Chalking it up to a bad trip with the sleeping pills, you carry on with your day. You have a lot to do and little time to accomplish it.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite vigilante. To what do I owe this pleasure, Ging?” Ryan’s sleep-rough voice crackles through the line of the burner phone you’re using.

“Morning, Ry. Put the pot on. I’ll be over in a few. Got something for you to sink your teeth into.”

Before he can respond, you disconnect the call, knowing he’ll be far too curious to turn you away when you show up at his door. Ryan Weller is as close to a friend as you’ve got these days. He’s been a good guy to you over the years, always treated you like a little sister, the same as he treated Danika. They were fostered together after her parents passed. When she died, you were all each other had left of her, a sort of pseudo lifeline to Danika—you both refuse to let go.

It only takes twenty minutes to walk to Ryan’s place. You pull on some jeans and a t-shirt, grab the backpack and wallet, and lock up on your way out. As your key slides out of the knob, you can’t help but stop and brush your thumb over the smooth brass handle. It looks the same as it always has…except, does it feel looser? You jiggle the knob and then shake your head, puffing out your cheeks. Your paranoia must be getting the best of you.

Slinging the backpack over your shoulder, you hit the call button for the elevator. The street is bustling, just a typical Saturday morning for this area. It wasn’t your first choice of places to live, but after Danika, you needed to get away from the apartment you shared but also wanted to situate yourself closer to the wolves you’d be hunting.

Ryan lives in the area by choice, having moved there almost a year before Danika was lost. He’s not the typical well-to-do-business guy, but he makes plenty of money as a private investigator. Or, at least, that’s what the placard on his door says he is. Considering what he does for you, you know it’s not all on the books or legal, which is just fine by you.

You don’t bother knocking, knowing Ryan will have unlocked the door for you already. His space is open-concept, all the rooms–sans the bath and bedrooms–bleeding together. The windows along the back wall are open, letting in a flood of daylight that dapples the space in warmth. He’s waiting for you in the kitchen, cup of coffee in hand. “What do we have this time?”

Dropping the backpack on the floor beside the dining table, you gesture at his laptop that’s already sitting open on the surface and set the wallet beside it. “Some money for you, for starters. And this,” you nudge the bag with your foot, “has videos of about a dozen girls I’d like you to try and track down using your magic machine.”

“Magic machine?” he asks, raising a bright strawberry-blond eyebrow.

Ryan is conventionally attractive, with natural russet highlights feathered through his wheat-colored hair and charming moss-green eyes, with a straight aristocratic nose sitting above perfect bow-shaped lips. If he were anyone other than who he is, he might have been someone you’d pursue. As it is, though, the thought of Ryan like that gives you the ick. He looks like a model; his grey sweats and a crimson jersey knit top belong in some Abercrombie ad for loungewear.

“Coffee first,” you whine, making grabby hands toward the cup he’s holding. “Then I’ll explain.”

Ryan laughs, handing off the cup and grabbing another for himself. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think the only reason you ever come by to visit is for my coffee and to ask favors.” His tone is light, joking…but it hits a little too close to an uncomfortable truth. You can’t remember the last time you bothered to ask Ryan about something not Danika-related.

“I know,” you whisper, letting the guilt wash over you. “I’m sorry. It’s just, we’re so close…I’m so close to Bianchi, Ry. I’m so close I can’t stop now. I can’t risk losing momentum. I have to strike while it’s hot, and right now, it’s like the surface of the sun.”

That sobers him, his easy smile slipping from his face—you hate to see it go, the guilt festering even further in your heart, but you can’t let it show, not when it’s imperative you don’t crumble yet.

“Tell me what you need,” he implores, settling at the table where his laptop sits. “Where do we start?”

“Facial recognition is probably best,” you explain, thankful for the transition into more comfortable territory; the one without messy emotions.

Several hours and cups of coffee later, Ryan gets his first break. He sits back in his chair, fingers laced together on top of his head, his green eyes looking bleaker. “It’s not good, Ging, not good at all.” Even though he knows your real name, he still humors you with the persona you’ve adopted for your revenge plan.

“Tell me.”

Ryan sighs, dropping his hands into his lap. “I ran some cross-references just to be sure, but all these girls”—he nods toward the backpack now sitting on the table, disc cases spilling from the opening—“are missing. Every single one. Some of these are a decade old, cold cases at the bottom of some detective's desk at this point.”

The fact Roy Simmons is a monster isn’t a surprise to you. But the news still makes your blood boil. It makes you want to return to Roy’s penthouse and get a little creative with a knife instead of just holding blackmail over his head.

You swallow past the bile in your throat. “Send it. Let him rot.”

Ryan has a contact at the FBI, someone he trusts implicitly—someone who doesn’t know about you and doesn’t ask questions when Ryan dumps some evidence in his lap, either.

“Are you sure?” Ryan asks. “Simmons needs to get his, sure. But aren’t you worried it might alert Bianchi to the fact someone is getting close to him? Especially after what happened with Hurst.”

Sazi Hurst was your target before Roy. He found himself in FBI handcuffs after you told Ryan he could send all the information you scrounged up on him, and it almost cost you your first date with Roy; he was so paranoid after one of his biggest business venture partners ended up in custody, singing like a canary.

You hate the conflicting feelings waging war in your mind right now. The desire to see justice served and give these girls’ families peace weighs heavily against your own need to see this whole thing through to the end, with no mistakes made.

Finally, you relent, “You’re right. Fuck. Okay, give me until the end of next week.”

“You think you’ll get to him that soon?” Ryan gives you a wide-eyed stare, lips parting in surprise.

“As long as Roy gives me what I need. He has until midnight tonight,” you say, glancing at your phone for the time. Just a handful of hours to go. “Oh, did you get my little surprise last night?”

Ryan’s nose wrinkles as he makes a disgusted sound in his throat. “You mean the gross video of the naked pig on the bed? Yeah. I got it alright.”

You nod, satisfied for now. You stand from the table, drop your empty mug off in the sink, and head toward the door. “I’m going to go take care of some stuff.” By that, you mean wallow in a little bit of self-pity before the other shoe drops tonight. “If I don’t get what I need, you’ll take care of it?”

That sweet smile flashes on Ryan’s face once again. “Of course, I will. We’re in this together, Ging. And not even just because of Dani, but because I care about you, too, okay? Be careful out there. Call me if you need me.”

You let that linger between you, choosing not to respond to his kindness. It could be the nerves and how high-strung you are right now, but you know it’s deeper than that. It’s far too dangerous to get so close to someone again, even if it’s Ryan. Keeping him at arms-length when it comes to things of the heart is easier, safer…better that way.

Back on the sidewalk, you decide to stop by your apartment before going on the prowl. Pulling out your phone, you check one of the many fake social media profiles you’ve created to keep tabs on your targets. If you’re lucky, you’ll have a few precious hours to prepare before initiating phase number one of your final mission.

You move on autopilot, letting yourself be swept away by the normalcy of everything around you. The rest of your day is a blur. You’re not even sure what you spent your time doing. It doesn’t matter now; however, all you’re focused on is what’s before you: a closet full of things that will make the perfect disguise tonight.

Two hours later, you find yourself dressed to the nines, wig firmly in place, and a forced smile on your face as you approach the frosted glass door to Liquid Inferno, the city's hottest, most exclusive nightclub. Pulling out the fake golden access card that Ryan made for you, you flash it at the bouncer. The door swings open without so much as a questioning word.

Thumping bass vibrates through the soles of your heels as you zig-zag your way through the pulsing crowd—strobes of different colors flash, the whole place coated in thick neons thanks to the overhead blacklights. The coral mini dress you decided to wear takes on the brightness of a pink highlighter.

What you really want to do right now is head to the bar and order a drink, but you know that’s just the nerves setting in. Instead, you angle your path toward the darkened VIP area on the second floor.

A set of brutish-looking men stand at the bottom of the stairs. The one closest to you gives you a once-over before asking, “Looking to climb into the lap of a king, princess?”

You grit your teeth to keep from snarling at him in response. “Something like that,” you say, letting your words dripping saccharine sweetness as you bat your lashes.

“Sorry, sweetheart, no one is allowed up without a pass.” The other bouncer leers at you, blatantly eyeing your cleavage and the curve of your ass.

You fish into the top of your dress, intentionally shifting around your tits. “Oh, you mean one of these?” you ask, pinching the black VIP card, that you’re glad you had the forethought to nab from Roy’s place, between your thumb and forefinger.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” the second guy whistles appreciatively. “Looks like she’s good to go, Mike.”

Mike turns his glare on his counterpart. “I know all VIPs, and she isn’t one.” His focus swings back to you, looking slightly more murderous this time. “Where’d you get it?”

One false move or misspoken word, and you can kiss this chance goodbye, you know that. So, treading carefully, you choose your words in hopes they’ll believe the semi-lie, “Roy Simmons. He gave me his card and told me to meet him here.” You turn the card so the thick, black lettering of Roy’s last name can be seen on the back.

“Roy didn’t mention giving his card to a floozy,” Mike grunts.

You hold up your hands, the card's shiny surface catching in the strobing lights. “I’m just trying to do as I was told.” You enunciate the word ‘told’, layering on extra meaning to it.

A knowing smile curves on the nameless douchebag's lips. “Sounds like Roy to me,” he chuckles, elbowing Mike lightly in the ribs. “Let her up so she doesn’t get in trouble, huh, Mike? Wouldn’t want a pretty little thing like her getting spanked for being a bad girl.”

Mike doesn’t laugh with his partner. He just stares at you with a challenging gleam in his eyes. Finally, he relents, stepping back and snatching the hook that’s holding the velvet rope across the bottom of the stairs.

“First sign of trouble from you, princess, and you’re out on your ass. Got me?”

You give him a subtle nod, demurely dropping your chin as you pass and hurry up the stairs. Cold sweat beads along the nape of your neck, and you feel like you might pass out. There is a small alcove at the top of the stairs, just before the floor opens up to the VIP lounge, and you duck inside to catch your breath.

The side seam of your dress buzzes. You nearly bust the stitching in your haste to pull out your phone. A message from Ryan flashes on the screen.

Let’s have bacon in the morning.

It’s code. Roy Simmons quickly earned the moniker ‘The Pig’, and Ryan has been joking about wanting to eat bacon ever since you put that leg of the plan into motion. Having bacon in the morning means Roy has provided you with what you wanted. Which is perfect; one more loop in the rope you hope to have Bianchi with.

Being here tonight might be a mistake, now that you’re taking a moment to think it through. What you should really be doing is going home and digging through everything Simmons gave up. Yet—you peek out from the alcove, scanning the VIP area—you’re far too close to give up this chance.

You’re generally not so reckless. Getting this close is making you sloppy, you decide, and you can’t have that. Taking a deep breath, you roll your shoulders back and remind yourself why you’re doing this and that you can’t make a mistake—not now, before stepping out of the alcove and into the den of wolves.

Testing the waters tonight can’t hurt…much.

🤍🤍🤍

Taehyung

Following you has been all too easy for Taehyung. His body doesn’t need sleep, so instead of retreating back to his own apartment, he stationed himself outside of yours. It was a surprise to see you leaving so early this morning but an even bigger surprise to see you looking so decidedly normal. You weren’t wearing any fancy clothes, the wig, or painted up with rouge like you had been the night before—yet, you’re still the image of a goddess to him.

Taehyung has decided he likes you more when you’re just being you, not when you’re playing what is obviously a character part. It’s a clever rouse. He’ll grant you that. You’re good; he would have been none the wiser had he not let himself into your space last night.

You were moving fast, and Taehyung nearly lost you a few times as you worked your way toward another apartment building. It was like striking gold when Taehyung could repeat his trick from the night before, scaling the backside of the adjacent building. Only this time, the windows were open, and he could hear everything you and Ryan were discussing.

It’s been a long time since Taehyung tasted the bitter tang of jealousy. It’s a very unbecoming emotion for someone of his stature. Yet, watching how that blond Adonis fawned over you and how comfortable you seemed around him made Taehyung want to chew through the metal railing of the fire escape he was on. He hated seeing you together.

Now, though, you’re alone. Or as alone as someone can be in a packed VIP area of a nightclub. Taehyung can taste the nervousness coming off of you in waves. He can feel the erratic thump of your heart from where he’s standing in the shadows a few feet away.

Getting past Dumb and Dumber at the bottom of the stairs was comical; all it took was a whispered name, and they let him up without even asking for a card. He might not have any friends, but Taehyung has plenty of connections in this city. It would be wild if he didn’t, considering he’s been prowling these same streets for a hundred years now. Not many people know his face, but plenty know his name.

You look like a newborn fawn tiptoeing through a pack of wild, rabid wolves, eyes wide and lush lips parted as you edge yourself closer to the back of the space. He knows where you’re going; he’s just not sure why. The conversation he overheard between you and Ryan was enough to fill in some of the puzzle pieces concerning your venture. He also spent the majority of the night surfing the web on his phone and scrounging up everything he could on you, Danika, and whatever connection you might have to the man you’re now fast approaching.

Lorren Bianchi—world renowned flesh and drug trader kingpin—is sitting in a dimly lit booth, surrounded by a few scantily clad women holding champagne glasses and half a dozen muscle-thick bodyguards who aren’t bothering to cover up the pistols hooked to their belts.

Taehyung knows who Bianchi is and has spoken with him a handful of times as well. He’s never liked the oily fucker, far too pretentious and corrupt for Taehyung. It clicks then, and Taehyung curses himself for being a fool and not seeing it sooner. The box with the sentimental items you have tossed into the closet of the spare room, the smiling, beautiful blond girl with you in the photo—Danika. It all makes sense now, and if Taehyung doesn’t do something, you’re going to find yourself in someone else's cherished box in a closet.

🤍🤍🤍

You’re so focused on picking your way through the crowd, eyes honed in on the one man you’ve been gnashing at the bit to draw blood from, that you miss the man closing in through your periphery until you walk solidly into his chest. You blink a few times, dragging your focus up a narrow chest covered in a white button-up until you meet familiar golden-brown eyes.

“Ginger, what a surprise.”

A surprise is one way to describe it. However, surprises are far too close to being coincidences to you, and you stopped believing in coincidences a long time ago. Consider it a product of the deep distrust you’ve developed over the years. Running into the same man twice in less than twenty-four hours should be immediate alarm bells for you…yet, surprisingly, they remain silent.

“Sorry, can’t talk right now,” you mumble, intending to skirt around the guy and be on your way without further interaction. But he follows your step, blocking your way yet again. It’s hard to tell if it’s intentional or if he was stepping aside at the same time as you were.

He laughs, a warm, rumbling note that makes you look up just to make sure it’s really coming from him. “I’m sorry.” He moves to the side, gesturing with his arm toward the darkened back corner. The look in his eye is unreadable, making it hard to judge his intentions, but you’re not going to balk at the opportunity to get away, paranoia a thick collar slipping around your throat.

If you weren’t so on edge, you might give up your endeavor for the night and take the opportunity to slip a hook into this odd man. It would be easy enough, another chance to practice before the big take down. You’d be honest in saying you could use a bit more practice, if the way your hands shake is any indication.

But, no matter how hard you contemplate that idea, it won’t stick. There’s something about the man that screams innocent, which is also probably why your alarm bells refuse to ring. A man like that doesn’t deserve your torment, so you continue, not sparing him another glance.

“Thanks,” you say, stepping past him.

A hand on your arm brings you up short, though. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Your gaze cuts to the man—Taehyung—before flicking down to the slender fingers wrapped around your upper arm. His palm is warm against your skin, contrasting with the chill from the AC blasting overhead.

“What?”

Taehyung flicks his eyes toward where Lorren is sitting. “He’s a dangerous man.”

“All men are dangerous,” you snap.

Taehyung searches your eyes, for what you’re not sure, but whatever he sees there must disappoint him because his lips form a thin line, and he gives a subtle shake of his head. “I hate that that’s your reality.” He glances back toward the table where Bianchi is sitting. “Come on,” he murmurs, tugging you along to an empty seat a few feet away.

“What are you—Oh!” Your protest cuts off as Taehyung slumps into the vacant seat and drags you onto his lap. “What the hell!?”

“Calm down, or you’re going to draw attention to us.” Taehyung pulls you back against his chest, angling his head around yours so his words ghost over your ear, “Humor me a little, won’t you? Tell me what you see.”

“What I see?”

Slender fingers graze underneath your chin before hooking against it and tilting your head. For anyone else, it must look like Taehyung is whispering sweet nothings in your ear, plying you with his big hands. Every part of him that touches you is warm and inviting. But, you can’t let yourself get caught up in that.

Your eyes catch on the far table once more. Bianchi is laughing at something, his head thrown back and his mouth hanging open, though the sound doesn’t carry to you. You’re here for a reason, and you’re not going to let some bozo you ran into last night stop you.

Shifting around on his lap, you try to brace your heels on the floor to gain leverage, but Taehyung bands an arm around your hips and clears his throat. “Stop that, and before you ask, yes, I know him, and no, I don’t care for him. Now, look closely. Tell me what you perceive about the people around him. Tell me why if you would have approached that table tonight, it would have been short-lived and you’d be sorely disappointed that you wasted your chance.”

You lick your lips, willing your racing heart to calm down so you can focus. You know you should be scrambling off his lap, yelling obscenities, and cursing him for being a creep. Only, he’s, in fact, not being one. The only thing that’s disturbing is the fact that he somehow knows you’re here for Bianchi. A man who is nothing more than a stranger who gave up two hundred dollars last night is now acting like he knows all your dirty little secrets.

“How do you know that’s what I was going to do? Maybe I’m just here trying to have a good time, and you’ve gone and ruined it.”

“You’re easier to read than you think. Now, tell me.”

Taking a deep breath, you refocus on the table. Lorren is sitting in the middle, two girls on one side and one on the other. All blond, very young, petite with large eyes and lips. They could be triplets for all you can discern between the three of them. Everything you know about Bianchi flashes through your mind as you try to connect the dots. Of course, you should have seen it before. “Blond. He likes blondes. Fuck,” you mutter. There is a soft sound of approval from Taehyung, a low hum that vibrates through his chest. “Now, should I let you go make a fool of yourself, or would you like to hear what I have to offer?”

“Why are you even here? Have you been following me?”

Taehyung grunts as you begin to wiggle in earnest in his lap. “It’s not like that,” he says.

Now, the alarm bells do start to ring because that’s as good as saying ‘yes’. “Let me go.”

“I will, on one condition.” You twist in his lap, ready to lash out at him, but he catches your upraised palm and urges, “Let me help you with whatever you’re trying to do.”

“No, fuck you, jackass,” you hiss, trying to jerk your hand from his grip. “Let me go, or I’ll scream.”

Taehyung’s eyes narrow, and a smirk crooks up the corner of his mouth. It’s the first time his angelic demeanor has taken on a dark note, and you’re not sure if you like it or not. “Do you really think screaming will make any of these snakes come running to your aid?”

You swallow hard against the truth of that. A woman screaming is probably as common as a millionaire snorting coke in this place. Which judging by the tray covered in lines of white powder you can see on a table to your left, you’d wager the odds aren’t in your favor.

“Please,” you try for your best impression of desperation. “Please, let me go. You don’t understand.”

“I understand more than you know,” Taehyung whispers in response before standing, bringing you up with him, and dragging you toward the top of the stairs. You try to twist and protest, but his hand is like a vice around your wrist, and your pleas go unanswered.

It takes little time for Taehyung to haul you through the crowd. It’s like the surge of bodies part around him, making the escape smooth and seamless. The air outside is light and crisp compared to how suffocating it was inside; you hadn’t even noticed until now that you can take your first real, deep breath since you went in.

“Who the fuck even are you?” you snarl, finally jerking yourself free from Taehyung’s grip, though that might have more to do with him letting you pull yourself free than anything.

The look on his face is unreadable for a moment before a placating smile spreads across his lips. “I’m just someone with your best interest in mind and who is trying to help.”

“I already said I don’t need your help.” You make to step around him and head back inside. Even if your chances of introducing yourself to Bianchi tonight won’t go as planned, you can still do some more recon, and gather more information—but those slender fingers find themselves cuffing your wrist all over again. He drops his grip on you when it seems he’s certain you’re not going to try and run again.

“Look, just hear me out, and if you don’t like what I have to say, then I’ll provide you with the proper look and introduce you to Lorren Bianchi myself.” That earns him a narrow look filled with suspicion.

You look around, contemplating whether or not this man is full of shit or not. If you agree to hear him out, you might miss out on your opportunity to get closer to Bianchi tonight. But if he’s telling the truth, you might not need to do all the legwork anyway.

Taehyung looks hopeful as he waits for your response, bouncing ever so lightly on his toes, hands clasped in front of him. There is still that unmistakable sense of innocence about him, even though he just bodily dragged you from inside the club and somehow has a personal connection to Bianchi.

Ryan would urge you not to move so quickly tonight. He might also balk at the idea of you entertaining a stranger who seems to sneakily know more than he should…but which would earn you the most ire? Ryan would definitely find out about your attempt with Bianchi tonight, but he might not necessarily have to find out about Taehyung. Maybe you can play both fields.

You tug your phone from the inner seam on your dress and shoot off a text to Ryan, asking him to send you everything he can on Taehyung Kim and how he might be connected to Bianchi and to be quick about it. You add please to the end of your text, hoping you seem less demanding in your request.

“You have thirty minutes. If I’m not impressed, you introduce me, or I’ll make you wish you’d kept your two hundred dollars.” You give him a pointed look, the ruse from last night taking on a whole new meaning now. Clearly he was trying to make a connection to you and is now taking it a step further.

Taehyung holds up his hands, palms out. “Okay, okay. Deal. Follow me.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to ask any more questions. You have to skip a few steps, your heels clicking against the sidewalk, to catch up with him as his long strides carry him away from the club.

You’re taken aback, thinking he’d surely lead you to some apartment or a hotel, somewhere there is a mild bit of privacy. Though an empty park wasn’t exactly what you had in mind, it does afford you the privacy.

“Start talking,” you insist, crossing your arms over your chest. You set a thirty-minute timer on your phone already and have it clutched in your hand so you can feel it vibrating either from time running out or with any messages from Ryan.

Taehyung’s back is to you, his attention directed somewhere overhead. “It’s beautiful, don’t you think?”

“What?” you ask, confused, feeling like you’re being whiplashed by the sudden change in conversation.

He glances at you over his shoulder, and you’re stuck by just how gorgeous he is, bathed in the soft glow from the lamps lining the walkway through the park. “The sky, it’s beautiful.”

“Um, yeah, sure.” You’re honestly not certain of the last time you took the time to actually look up at the sky and admire it. Living in the city, the light pollution and dirty air doesn’t really have an appeal anyway.

“Look,” he says, nodding back in the direction he was looking in before.

You sigh, irritated, but if he wants to waste part of his thirty minutes looking up at the smog-filled sky, who are you to—your thoughts trail off as you finally gaze up. The moon hangs full and low in the sky. You can see a smattering of stars as if they’re demanding to be seen despite the blazing city lights. It takes your breath away for a moment, grounding you in a different reality, one not filled with plots of revenge and loneliness.

Dragging your attention away from the sight and to the man so nonchalantly standing there, wasting his time, you say. “Your time is running out.”

“I’m not from here.” His words come as a whisper, barely carrying to you from over his shoulder. “The view is so different here, no matter how many times I look up, it’s never the same.”

“So, you’re from some other city. What’s that got to do with any of this? Is that how you know Bianchi?”

Taehyung turns, giving you his full attention. You feel bared to him, somehow. As if his eyes are taking stock of your every sin and folly. “I’m not from some other city. I’m not from here,” he emphasizes the word, drawing it out intentionally slow.

“I don’t have time for riddles,” you grunt, growing more irritated by the second. You should have known this was a waste of time. Your phone buzzes in your hand, and a wash of relief swells inside you. Ryan is just in time to confirm this is a complete waste.

Why are you asking about him?

Please don’t tell me you’re wanting to target him. Don’t be an idiot, Ging.

Seriously? You’re not going to answer me? Fine.

There are a few texts that are several minutes old. You must have been so distracted you missed your phone vibrating with them. A flood of new texts come in as you’re reading.

He’s one of the good ones. There’s a link to a website attached. You click on it and scan the opening page. ‘Kim Taehyung, Billionaire With No Billions’ is the headline. The article is filled with statistics and data showing that every cent Taehyung earns with any of his business ventures goes toward charity or medical research.

He’s a literal saint. Like, there isn’t a single mark against this guy. Targeting him would be doing the devil’s work. His connection to Bianchi seems to be one of rivalry. He’s the one who stopped Bianchi from opening up that one casino, you know, the one that was going to serve as an underground skin trade, but the evidence magically disappeared before his court hearing?

So that’s why Taehyung is familiar to you. You didn’t pay much attention to the casino thing, just kept tabs on it in passing in hopes it could lead you to gathering another connection to Bianchi.

Thanks. You hit send, thumb out of the timer you set, and tuck your phone away back into your dress.

“Ready to hear what I have to say now?”

You can feel heat crawling up your neck. Mild embarrassment is a bitter taste in the back of your throat as you feel thoroughly chastised even though he’s not speaking to you in a demeaning way.

“I’m listening.”

“Perhaps where I’m from is not important, not that you’d believe me anyway. So, perhaps the best place to start is acknowledging that I know what you’re going through. I’ve experienced what you’re experiencing, the pain and grief of losing someone you love.”

It’s like a white-hot dagger to the heart, a mix of indignation and sympathy. “You might think you do, but I don’t know.”

“I was punished for loving someone, they were taken from me, and I was… ostracized. I’ll never be the same. I still”—he rolls his shoulders and winces—”ache.”

His words are cryptic, but you’re fairly certain they’re only the surface of his experience, as there is evident pain laced within his whispered confession.

Slowly, his slender fingers nimbly work at the ivory buttons along the front of his shirt. One by one, they reveal the subtlest hint of flesh. The lighting that wreathed him in a halo glow just a moment ago now casts his features in stark relief as he moves closer to you.

“What are you doing?”

“Making myself vulnerable to you, in hopes of earning some of your trust.” With painfully slow movements, Taehyung turns and shrugs down the top of his dress shirt. It’s confusing, at first, trying to decipher what you’re seeing in the dim lighting. Ripples and bumps form two narrow swaths to either side of his spine, just within his shoulder blades; scars, jagged ones, made of tight, shiny ridges. The placement, the mirrored precision…it almost, almost looks like he had wings ripped from his back. “Not ripped,” he murmurs and you realize you spoke your thought aloud. “They were shorn from my body by my Brother Michael.”

“Your brother did this to you?!” you ask incredulously.

“Brothers,” he emphasizes. “But, only one wielded the blade.”

You balk at him, unable to comprehend how someone could do this to another human being. Before you can think better of it, you brush a light finger over one of the ridges. Taehyung shudders so intensely under your touch, that you’re afraid you might have hurt him. “I’m so sorry,” you whisper, snatching your hand back.

He clears his throat. “Nothing to apologize for. It’s just that, well, I haven’t been touched by another being in a very, very long time. I had almost forgotten what it felt like, a tender touch like that.”

“You shouldn’t have suffered at the hands of your brothers.”

“Water under the bridge at this point,” Taehyung sighs, pulling his shirt back up and redoing the buttons as he turns to face you once more. “I know what you’re trying to do with Bianchi, and even if you manage to get close enough to him, you’re not going to be able to go through with it. You can’t kill him.”

“I can and I will,” you state fiercely. “I have to.”

Taehyung gives you a sad smile. “There’s too much good in your heart. You’ll hesitate, and then he’ll turn the tables. He’ll give you the same fate as your friend.”

“You don’t know anything about her!” you shout, wincing at your own outburst as your words echo through the park and startle some birds out of a nearby tree.

“I know that you love her. I know that you’re on a path of revenge for her. A path that is going to lead you to an eternity of damnation even if you do succeed. Please, let me help you. I promise Bianchi will suffer for what he has done, but we have to do it the right way.”

“And what exactly would you consider the right way?” Anger eats at your eyes, making them burn with tears you refuse to shed.

Looking deep into your eyes, Taehyung explains, “If you kill him, that’s the end of it. But, if you tear down his empire, make him lose everything, brick by brick…he’ll endure a lifetime of suffering, which, to a man like him, is far crueler of a punishment than bringing his miserable life to an end. He’ll probably do it himself by the time we’re done with him.”

“Why is it, exactly, that you want to help me again?”

“I’ve dealt with Bianchi on a few occasions. Unfortunately, he rubs elbows with a lot of the same people that I do. I suppose money doesn’t care if someone is a good person or not.” Taehyung fits his hands into his pockets, leaning back on one heel in a relaxed manner as his eyes flick over your features. “I’ve never had the right justification for bringing him down. He’s always managed to slip between my fingers. Now, though, you’re presenting me with the perfect opportunity, the perfect justified means to take him down once and for all...and well, if it means I can save you, then I’ll take that, too.”

The fact this man seems to care about you, care about Danika, doesn’t seem all that unusual. His eyes are open and full of warmth, so welcoming and completely unalarming in their charm and sincerity. You can’t help but accept. “What do you propose we do? Where do we start?”

That seems to put a little pep back into Taehyung’s demeanor. “Simple, of course. We start where it will hurt him most, his bank account.”

Next Chapter⇾ ⇽Previous Chapter ◅ Back to series masterlist

◅ Back to Main Master List ©️ 2024-01-28 ColorMePurplex2

#kim taehyung #taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #taehyung angst #taehyung fluff #taehyung fanfic #taehyung imagines #taehyung fanfiction #bts taehyung #fallenangeltaehyung #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts angst #bangtanwhq #btscreaturecoven

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thereal-evanrosier · 1 month

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there's something christian / catholic in all versions of my rosekiller. i dont care what earth this is, guys. you're having a deeply complicated relationship to god.

fallenangel!evan x priest!barty

Evan was supposed to deliever a message to some random priest. it was an honour to be allowed on earth as an angel, you had to be outstanding. The message read "dont trust those who dont even acknowledge the bad", and evan didnt really think about it too hard. But when events on earth were unfolding, he realized that God had been in his way the whole time. He was the one Barty wasn't supposed to trust. Luckily, Barty didn't give a fuck and from that day on, Evan wad filled by a deep hate by God. The almighty took Evan's whole life from him and tried to take away his one safety boat too. And this was supposed to be the one millions of people trust and love? No, Evan decided to never trust him again.

Meanwhile Barty never really lost his faith. Sure, over time he became bitter towards God, and the more he got to know Evan, the more he resented the almighty. Yet he still believed in the ground principles and teachings of the bible. When he hit rockbottom, Barty prayed to God because he knew no matter what, God would take him back. He didn't know how or if the entity ever listened, but he knew that if He did, He'd be there for Barty and help him. After getting close to Evan and occasionally consuming his blood, God would be able to communicate with Barty. This was the craziest turning point in his life. Now, everytime he prayed, he'd make sure god would listen and wait for answers and help. Barty knew that this relationship wasn't the way it was supposed to, he knew he should give more into it, but at the same time, there was no way he'd actually worship God. Getting advice? sure. believing his existence? Yes. But respecting it and active support? No. From week to week, Barty lost his trust more and more, and even though he'd never give it up completely, he dishonoured his extremely catholic family by breaking all the rules and not giving a fuck about morals.

vampire!barty x scientist!evan

Evan had never been religious, God was just a concept that people made up to feel better about themselves. But when he tried to summon a demon, his intention was to ask how the true god was like, so Evan could live and believe the truth. over time, his Catholicism increased steadily, despite the horrible things he did to others, he read and studied the bible, prayed and went to church / confession once a week. Because God was real, and even if Evan would go to hell for murder and torture, he'd get into the good parts of it, because trusted gods plan. He'd probably say smth like "Obviously i killed thay guy! Last night, god told me to do so, its all part of his plan!" and if someone said that was blasphemy, Evan would answer with "I'm allowed, im catholic".

Meanwhile Barty... you would say that since he's been to hell and is hyperaware of God's existence, he's catholic or at least satanic (after all he knows satan personally and can't talk to his hell-bestie on earth anymore) but no. He doesn't pray to anyone, and he won't ever start. He says he loathes God for taking his mother away from him and forcing him to be tortured all his life... At this point Evan doesn't know who Barty even is, so the whole time he's like "????". But they figure it out at some point :) Yet, it makes him genuinely angry that Evan is becoming religious because of him. Why would the love of his life pray to the one entity that hurt him so much? God and their opposite views on him are some of their only fight points. While all Barty sees in God is a fake saviour who is lying through his teeth, Evan acknowledges His flaws, yet praises him for the good things. He doesnt care about breaking the rules - he's thankful for not being in jail and he's thankful for meeting Barty.

They both arent near perfect and neither of them has a "healthy" relationship to God, but I don't think that's possible in any universe.

Summary

Both versions of Rosekiller has one person that is more religious than the other one. While fallenangel!evan x priest!barty built on religion and wouldn't be able to exist without both of them being religious, there is no technical need for scientist!evan to become religious. vampire!barty might've showed him that hell is real, but there was no "real" reason for him to convert to Christianity, read the bible and confess. He knew that no matter what he did, he wasn't ready to change his behaviour for anything or anyone and would end up in hell anyway. I think, for him God was like a parental figure that had been missing his entire life, and before vampire!barty met him, scientist!evan knew he'd get no answer and wasn't even ready to try and become religious. But now that he could get an answer through vampire!barty, who showed him spells for contact, he felt like this was everything ever missing. A neglected child finally getting attention from the parent it needed his whole life.

Personal notes

The reason for Christianity/Catholicism being the only religion represented is because it was one I grew up with and I know the most about, also due to most of my friends being Christian. I would love to see people headcanon the skittles/marauders as other religions too, I simply didnt want to give misrepresentation.

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formulapop-cb · 7 months

Text

The Bahrain Grand Prix have ended and we got the results. I belive it won't be a surprise that the winner was Christopher, but let's hear a few words from our top 10 finishers:

Christopher: I think the team did a good job in the break, i was a little surprised about how fast our pace was but we won, so. Good job team, let's continue next week!

Hyunjin: I feel absolutely happy about the race. I had some good overtakes and then i was able to keep my place as well. Amazing, amazing race and i can't wait to see the rest of the season.

Seonghwa: What a day we had today! The car was amazing, the race was fun, i had some great overtakes. I got P3 which is amazing but now it's time to snatch that first place from Chris.

Hongjoong: Wish i could say the same as Seonghwa. Though P4 is a great place i had some struggles with the car and i wasn't able to show the potential of it. Hopefully next week will be better.

Mingi: It is P5 there. Not the best result and not what i expected but it's still a great place. Though next time i'll catch the others for sure.

San: P6 it is..It isn't horrible in fact i am happy compared to where we were at last year but i still belive i could've done a better job so i feel a little bittersweet. Anyway, it's time to rest and then continue with next week. Hopefully it will be better than today.

Yunho: P7 baby! I definitely jinxed my luck yesterday but the car was still good enough so i think i will be able to bring an even better performance out of it. Let's see each other next week!

Felix: If we count the fact that i got 10 places better than last year, i feel great about my place. Knowing the fact that our car is where it has to be also makes me feel great. But that i couldn't do better than P8 does not..

Changbin: P9 is not too bad is it? Definitely wanted more and better but the others were simply just quicker than us. We'll catch them next week though.

Jeongin: First points of the season!! I feel happy. Christopher did amazingly so did the others, but i'm ready to hunt them down one by one~ they won't even notice when i'll pass by them.

New fans? @secretscb @mxthxbot @welcometosector1 @mirage-ocs @redlight-cb @model-boyscb @teyvatcb @screamcb @livealittleoc-cb @kardpackcb @mutant-academy @clubwnderland @silcntxnight @domrachaa @k-half-blood @oppositesattraxt @coffeexdreamcb @folklore-cb @johnnys-toes-cb @lucky-charmsanhwa @onlyomega-cb @welcome-to-maniac @neverland-fairies @yxjmn @urluvlyfe @weeb-wonwoo @thegoodplace-oc @purgatoryxbot @project-takeover @kq-rescuecenter @theinvitation-bot @fallenangels-cb @grim-johnny @neonvandalsxcb @dark-dream-cb @demonljy @heartsteel-cb @godscb @androidmuses @fntsybot @obsession-cb (an ask to +/-)

#🏎.christopher #🏎.hyunjin #🏎.seonghwa #🏎.hongjoong #🏎.mingi #🏎.san #🏎.yunho #🏎.felix #🏎.changbin #🏎.jeongin

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dalivanmagritte · 1 year

Text

Fic rec : jeon wonwoo (wonwoo)

(back to the seventeen list)

link to part.2

favs

spin that record, baby (fav, fluff)

hypnotism (fav, smut, wizard!au, witch!au)

roommies part.1 part.2 part.3 (fav, pervert!au, roommate!au)

pervert neighbour (fav, smut, pervert!au)

the peephole (fav, smut, roommate!au, pervert!au)

desperate (fav, smut, husband!au)

a break x mingyu (fav, smut)

pretend it's someone that came from you (fav, ANGST, comfort, smut, fluff, office!au)

the bore next door (fav, smut, fluff)

getting closer (fav, smut, joker!au, inspector!au)

gam3 bo1 (fav, smut, gamer!au)

the pixie (fav, smut, pixie!au, fairy!au)

no smut

wonwoo: Neighbors to Lovers (fluff)

46: lingering kiss before a long trip apart (fluff)

that's mine (fluff)

bad aim part.1 part.2 (angst, fluff, highschool!au)

the shattered camera part.1 (serie finished, 11 parts, fluff, angst, paparazzi!au, celebrity!au)

sorry? (fluff, angst)

boyfriend!wonwoo (fluff)

insomniac (angst, fluff)

glow (fluff, suggestive, college!au)

nothing (fluff, angstish, roommates!au)

makout session & getting caught (fluff, suggestive)

home (fluff, fakerelationship!au)

bookworm (fluff, jock!au, highschool!au)

letter to you (fluff, bf!au)

please stay (angst, fluff)

one word at a time (fluff, dad!au)

nostalgia dinner (fluff, suggestive)

for worse or better (fluff, suggestive)

mailman (fluff, mailman!au)

feelings (fluff)

classics (smut)

worship you (smut)

a moon without stars (smut, angst, romance)

the copy machine is broken again (smut, fluff, office!au)

mine (smut, fluff, fratboy!au)

first time (smut, fluff)

like the movies (smut, fluff)

until it feels like you're in heaven (smut)

until i met you (smut, fratboy!au)

love me tender...or maybe not: happily ever after (fluff, smut)

amour-haine & co (ongoing serie, fluff, smut, angst, CEO!au)

begging (smut)

alter-ego (smut)

first time crying during sex (smut)

warm encounter part.1 part.2 (smut, gamer!au)

just ask (smut)

Licentious (smut, babysitter!au)

takes his anger on you (smut)

in the pants (smut)

sexy voice (smut)

momentum part.1 part.2 part.3 (serie finished, smut, angstish, fluff, racer!au, engineer!au)

personal trainer (smut, personal trainer!au)

titties lover (smut, fluff)

gym instructor (smut, gyminstructor!au)

off limits! (smut, brother bff!au)

i'll just get off all by myself (smut)

cat got your tongue? (smut)

roommates with benefits (smut, fluff, angstish, roommate!au, college!au)

alternate universe (magics, gods, royalty, etc...)

the trouble with dogs (unfinished?, fluff, hybrid!au)

wildflower part.1 part.2 (unfinished, smut, angst, royal!au)

instinct part.1 (unfinished?, fluff, angst, werewolf!au)

just relax part.1 (unfinishedd?, fluff, suggestive, therapist!au)

tales from the pack - masterlist - (finished, angst, fluff, smut, werewolf!au)

(getting closer) wonwoo: crimson eyes (serie finished, smut, angst, vampire!au)

the forest (fluff, witch!au)

shadowhunter (fluff, shadowhunter!au)

under the moonlight (angst, smut, prince!au, witch!au)

vampire!wonwoo (smut, angst, fluff, vampire!au)

stuck in a rut x werewolf!mingyu (smut, werewolf!au, vampire!au)

fearless part.1 (serie finished, smut, fluff, vampire!au)

sharing is caring but i don't care (smut, fluff, hybrid!au)

drawings (fluff, angst, tattooits!au, florist!au)

library assistant (fluff, librarian!au)

bite me (smut, vampire!au)

by the moon (fluff, angst, suggestive, werewolf!au, witch!au)

favorite (smut, camgirl!au, teacher!au, college!au)

royal advisor (fluff, royal!au, princess!au, royal advisor!au)

to the victor (go the spoils) part.1 (smut, camboy!au)

when you gave me my name (smut, fluff, angst, fae!au)

fallen angel (smut, angel!au, demon!au, fallenangel!au)

until my lips turn blue (smut, angst, mafia!au)

red lights (smut, incubus!au)

with another member

private part.1 part.2 (5some with mingyu, wonwoo, jun & the8)

fallen x jeonghan (smut)

masseur seungcheol vs masseur wonwoo (smut, suggestive, masseur!au)

class project x mingyu (smut, fratboy!au, uni!au)

getting closer part.1 part.2 part.3 x mingyu (unfinished, smut, roommate!au)

besties x mingyu (smut, college!au)

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welcometosector1 · 9 months

Text

hongjoong: I've had a really bad day.

seonghwa: yeah, me too.

yunho: I took a walk to try and calm myself down.

yeosang: maybe it's the chilly weather?

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●

New runners?: @secretscb (🩸) @mxthxbot (🌊) @mirage-ocs (🍬) @redlight-cb (🚨) @model-boyscb (📸) @teyvatcb (🎮) @screamcb @livealittleoc-cb @kardpackcb @mutant-academy @clubwnderland @silcntxnight @beastfights-starting @domrachaa @k-half-blood @oppositesattraxt @coffeexdreamcb @folklore-cb @johnnys-toes-cb @lucky-charmsanhwa @onlyomega-cb @welcome-to-maniac @neverland-fairies @yxjmn @kitakcb @urluvlyfe @weeb-wonwoo @thegoodplace-oc @purgatoryxbot @project-takeover @kq-rescuecenter @livealittleoc-cb @teyvatcb @theinvitation-bot @fallenangels-cb @grim-johnny @hrtboys @neonvandalsxcb @dreamtech-cb @demonljy @heartsteel-cb @godscb @androidmuses

#hongjoong.leads #seonghwa.plans #yunho.packs #yeosang.watches

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ej-rambles · 10 months

Text

Au where instead of getting sent back to the island, the islanders have to 'collect' each missing member from a different island

For example, the people who made it onto the boat get sent to different places and have to get everyone back. Each person is in a 'themed' island based on their lore

In this world Bad is the last one to be found (because I like writing his character AND he claims to be on the boat but we didn't like see that- plus Dapper was the only egg running with them so-)

Bad's island is a 9 floor dungeon representing the 9 circles of Hell (this is following my Fallen Angel Bad au)

When they get to the last floor, it's freezing. Keeping balance on the ice and prying open the frozen doors is the main challenge of this floor.

When they finally do open the last door- they hardly recognise Bad- he's curled up back facing them. He has no hood on- the remains of his cloak torn up and he isn't moving.

Cellbit spots 2 more figures in the room- neither living. One of them is the...remains of what /used/ to be some kind of employee. 'Old habits die hard' Cellbit thought as he stared at the pile of bones and shredded cloth.

The other is standing. It's a statue carved to represent a human. He stepped closer to inspect it.

He could see that the statue was about an inch or two shorter than him, and from this distance he could see that he was made out of stone but there was dried blue liquid on it that made the blocks look colored.

He could also see the scratch marks from this close. Bad must have hand carved this with his claws, painstakingly from the amount of detail on the figure.

Cellbit only knew of one person who Bad made statues of-

His thoughts were cut off by a groan from the demon and the fabric he was holding shifting.

Tina taking a step closer to Bad and as she did Dapper managed to break free and gasped as he saw the group.

#ej_rambling #qsmp badboyhalo #fallenangel!bad #qsmp bbh #gossipduo #hgduo #I'm currently writting a fic based on this idea #I'm so excited that I had to tease it #qsmp skeppy #Tina and Bad are so siblings coded and Cellbits just confused in this basically

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thefallennightmare · 8 months

Text

Mercy-two

gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Fallen Angel!OC

Warnings: swearing, angst, fluff, smut, mythological talk, violence.

Authors Notes: I hope you all enjoy what I have planned for this story because it's going to be amazing!

Tags[OPEN]: @thescarlettvvitch @blackveilomens @crimson-calligraphyx @cookiesupplier @lyschko666 @shilohrosechicken @thebadchic @iknownothingpeople @sammyjoeee @malice-ov-mercy @kaelyn-lobrutto24

LETHIA

I stood before the old, cracked, mirror, completely bare, and a scowl stared back at me as I took in my new appearance. I felt off; wrong, and despised the darkness that encompassed the room. I held my hand out in front of me to look at the long black nails; sharp as knives. My gaze then took in the sight of the wings that protruded from my shoulder blades and a sob left my lips when I realized that I didn’t look like myself. The ink that covered my arms had no true meaning or designs but one held my gaze longer than the others.

It was on my ribs and the design was of a snake wrapping around a hand that held an apple. I titled my head in confusion at it, unsure as to why this design was the one that stood out to me so much.

Up in the kingdom, my hair was down to my back in golden waves, my nails were short nubs, and my skin was pure with no ink. But I wasn’t sure what I was more afraid of, my wings or my eyes.

My eyes were blood red as I stared at myself in the mirror. It was as if pure evil was in my presence.

The devil.

My body shook at the thought, not knowing where that word came from, and the noise my wings made echoed throughout the abandoned building I was holed up in. The wings that I felt disgusted by. Angels were known by their wings and everyone knew of my bright golden ones. But now, the darkness that caused my fall had taken over every aspect of my form.

My wings were black as the night sky but seemed to almost glow in the darkness of the building. What used to be soft and weightless was now heavy and jagged as it felt like a crushing weight against my back. I wrapped them around myself, hiding underneath the dark feathers, and I let out a shuddering breath. I despised the way I looked now and turned my back to the mirror, refusing to look at myself any longer.

During my time in the Kingdom, I never was present when angels fell but I heard many stories. In all of them, an angel never changed during their fall. They lost their wings but their looks remained the same. Throughout the entire history of angels and the Kingdom, as far as I knew, I was the only angel that drastically changed.

Was it because I went against the King? Was it because of who I found myself in bed with before my fall?

I didn’t know where I went from here, unsure of the path I needed to follow. Since creation, I followed some sort of leader or order but now my purpose didn’t matter.

Through all the doubt and confusion, there was one thing I knew I needed to do. I sat with my legs crossed and took a deep breath while letting my eyes flutter shut. I’d been in this place for the last few days, hiding away from the outside world, as I tried to center myself. Even though I was upset with the way my appearance changed from the fall, I was glad that my powers remained; especially the fact that I was able to become aware of my surroundings. I was in a different time period and while at first, I felt different, an outcast among mortals, with hours spent dream walking I was able to learn more about where I fell.

The cool air brushed along my bare skin, my nipples perking, as I let out a long breath, finally feeling weightless when the scene in front of me changed. No longer was I sitting in the abandoned building but instead, I was standing in front of yet another mirror, still naked. I looked in the reflection of the glass seeing a bed behind me with orange lights glowing from behind it. There was a figure sitting at the edge of it with a piece of fabric wrapped around his waist and water dripped from the long strands of his hair.

The window to the bedroom was open and a crow perched itself on the sill of it, cawing when our gazes locked. I’d seen this crow many times before when I dreamed walked, almost as if it was my familiar.

With another caw from the bird, the man on the bed snapped his head, brown eyes drinking me in as I shifted on my feet and when his hand extended towards me, I studied the tattoos that seemed to cover every inch of skin.

“Lethia.”

I twitched as if hearing my name on his lips awoke something within me.

“Come here.”

Instantly, he pulled me into his lap and my hands rested on his shoulders. It wasn’t only his hands that were tattooed, almost every inch of his chest, stomach, and arms were as well.

He brushed the hair from my face but I kept my gaze cast away from him, not wanting him to see the darkness behind them.

“Don’t hide from me, Lethia. I want to see those eyes.”

A finger lifted my chin where briefly our gazes locked and my heart beat widely in my chest. His name weighed heavy on my tongue but I refused to say it. He licked his lips before they pressed delicate kisses along my jawline, down to my neck, and I sucked in a breath when he used his grip on my hips to move me back and forth on his lap. The fabric that covered his bottom half did nothing to hide the outline of his cock as it pressed against my heated core.

“Say my name,” he rasped in the crook of my neck leaving bites against the skin.

I did my best to shake my head as a moan fell from my lips. Unlike outside of the dream state, I was able to feel his touch; his fingers gripping my hips, his teeth scraping along the pulse point of my neck, and the head of his cock breaking free from the fabric and sliding against my folds.

There were many times in the kingdom that I found myself intimate with other angels, my most recent lover the reason for my fall, but something with him was different. The way my heart pounded so hard in my chest, I could hear it in my ears. Or the way my stomach burned with desire and spread through my entire essence.

“Say it,” he poised the head of his cock at my entrance.

I shook my head. “No.”

A grunt sounded from the back of his throat before he switched our positions so he was leaning over me while I lay beneath him. My fingers quickly worked through the long strands of his still-damp hair, marveling at the softness of them. Intense eyes stared down at me, lip caught between his teeth.

“You’re an angel.”

“Shit,” I mewled when he finally pressed his cock between my folds, filling me up completely.

Not giving me a second to breathe, he began slamming into me with such force I scratched my nails down the tattoos of his chest and stomach to try and grab onto something.

“Say. It.” He punctuated each word with a hard snap of his hips.

His fingers linked through mine and held our intertwined hands above my head. The fire burning from his eyes was almost too much to take so I dropped my gaze lower to his neck and I sucked in a breath at the tattoo.

A snake wrapped around a hand that held an apple.

The pad of his thumb brushed against my swollen clit in fast circles and my toes curled as the orgasm washed over me in a tidal wave, his name finally falling from my lips.

“Noah.”

My eyes snapped open with a choked breath as I nearly stumbled over in my position on the floor. I was back in the abandoned building, alone, and quickly rose to my feet while trying to gain my composure. When I dreamwalked in the past, there never was a set destination, only going where my brain and heart guided me. I wasn't sure why it led me to the man who saved me a few nights ago.

My skin prickled with desire, the feel of Noah still heavy on my senses, and I squeezed my legs together hoping it would kill the ache in my core. It wasn’t uncommon for angels to lay with other angels; I had before, more recently with Lucifer. Which, some above in the Kingdom would say that’s the reason why I fell.

But with this mortal, Noah, something felt different inside of me. An unknown heat burned my entire soul at the mere thought of him. Although I couldn’t feel his physical touch, his emotional touch hindered me in the most confusing ways.

With a deep breath and a roll of my shoulders, my wings sank into my back while I reached for the jeans and shirt I stole from the store around the block. I quickly got dressed and slipped into my black boots. I tried not to let the thoughts of those brown eyes and the tattoo on his neck hinder me from my current mission.

I needed to find a church.

NOAH

My feet pounded lightly against the pavement as I left my car parked in the street, ready to meet up with the guys for a late lunch. I’d been in the studio most of the day and when Jolly called about getting something to eat, my stomach growled in agreement before I could.

“You need to get out of the house, Noah. You’ve been locked in the studio the last three days.”

I didn’t bother arguing with Jolly because it was true. The old, battered, notebook I used to write my lyrics never left my side the last few days, my current page being bookmarked by the long black feather; the one Lethia left behind in her wake. The image, the thought of her taking over every part of me. Even in my dreams, she felt so real. The touch of her, the scent of her, and her sweet sounds especially the dream I had mere hours ago felt so fucking real. Even the crow that watched us from my window.

I was still perplexed as to why for the last few weeks I kept dreaming of Lethia, long before even meeting her. And why ever since I did meet her, the dreams felt more intense; real.

Running a hand through my hair, I rounded the block and pushed past the large crowds of people that poured out from the bar, stumbling into the streets; dressed to the nines in costume. With Halloween a couple of weeks away, some of the local bars were having Costume Nights, hence what I was seeing right now. There was a sudden commotion just past the group of people and I stopped at what I saw.

“What the fuck,” I muttered the curse into my hand as I rubbed my jaw.

Lethia was standing at the corner of the block with her hands wrapped around a man's wrist.

“What gives you the right to say those vulgar words to me?” the anger in her voice radiated down the block.

The man, dressed in a white toga and golden leaf crown, tried to rip his arm from Lethia’s grip but hissed out in pain.

“Those jeans do wonders for your ass, sweetheart. Those tits are begging to be grabbed.”

A scowl pulled on her lips. “Mortals. You’re disgusting. You all think you’re owed anything you desire.”

“I’ll give you whatever you desire,” the man traced a finger down her face.

Jealousy stabbed my chest seeing how close he was to Lethia but before I could step in, she had twisted his arm over her head, causing him to flip over onto his back, slamming into the pavement below. He tried to fight it but Lethia simply stepped on his chest, keeping him locked in place with her boot.

“What the fuck,” he struggled.

Lethia pressed the heel of her boot harder into his chest. “I should eviscerate you, right here. In front of your friends who simply can’t stand up for you. How pathetic.”

One of the guys’ friends snuck up behind Lethia to try and wrap an arm around her neck to pull her away but she must have heard or sensed him because she whipped around, knocking him back with elbow.

“Fucking bitch!” The second guy cried out, clutching his bloody nose.

Toga guy scrambled to his feet but Lethia was two steps ahead of him and kicked him in the nose, knocking him back down.

“How is she so strong?” Toga guy spat out blood.

Hearing the crowd next to me muttering something about calling the police, I cursed and pushed my way through, knowing that if I didn’t do something soon, Lethia would be in a position she couldn’t fight her way out of.

“What the fuck!” She screamed as I quickly scooped her up, tossing her over my shoulder. “Unhand me! NOW!”

Her hands smacked against my back but not wanting to risk staying around the mess of bodies at my feet, I quickly ran back down the block toward my car.

“Can you stop smacking me?” I grunted while shifting her position on my shoulder.

“LET ME GO!” Lethia tried to knee me in the gut but I wrapped my arm tighter around her legs, keeping her locked in place.

It took a bit of trouble but I managed to reach for my keys to unlock my car just as I walked up. Yanking the door open, I gently dropped Lethia into the front seat, her feet kicking widely at me.

“I swear to gods if you don’t stop kicking me, I’m going to leave you here to deal with those assholes on your own,” I said with agitation.

It was a lie. I had zero intentions of leaving her here with them, even if she could handle herself.

Lethia halted her thrashing for a moment, tilting her head up towards me as I leaned over the car.

“Gods? What Gods? There is only one King,” she said.

Sudden commotion from where we just came from caught my attention and I saw Toga guy and friend frantically looking around.

“Shit,” I cursed while quickly buckling Letha into her seat.

“What is this contraption? Why can’t I move?”

Ignoring her shouts, I shut the door and ran across to the driver's side, easily slipping behind the wheel. Thankfully I was able to drive away without the two guys noticing Lethia was in my front seat.

“What the hell was that about?” I asked, glancing at her briefly.

She kept pulling on her seatbelt. “Those men said such vulgar things. I couldn’t allow them to get away with it.

The sound of the blinker echoed in my car as I turned left, our destination unknown.

“I’m pretty sure you broke both of their noses,” I chuckled.

“I would have done more if you didn’t pull me away,” Lethia grumbled under her breath, the seatbelt snapping against her chest.

She didn’t even flinch.

“You need to let me out of whatever this thing is.”

I raised a brow. “Have plans?”

Her red eyes assessed every inch of my car before her gaze fell on the side of my face.

“None that concern you,” Lethia replied flatly.

I hummed while pulling the car to a stop at a red light. My fingers drummed against the steering wheel as silence filled the tiny space between us. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched as Lethia stared straight out through the windshield of the car.

“Do all mortal men have staring problems?” Her lips were pulled in a tight line.

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep my smirk away. “I’ve never seen eyes your color before.”

When the light turned green, I began driving again, hoping Lethia would give me an inclination on where she wanted to go.

“There’s quite a lot you don’t know about me, Noah,” she clicked her tongue on her teeth.

My cock twitched in my jeans at the way my name sounded on her lips and I shifted in the seat, my knuckles turning white from how hard I was grasping the steering wheel.

I cleared my throat. “I’m glad to see your injuries healed up nicely.”

“I said they would, didn’t I?” Lethia smugly smiled.

Ignoring her witty remark, I pulled into a parking lot. She gazed up out of the window at the large yellow M sign.

“Mephistopheles?”

“No,” I shook my head with furrowed brows. “Mcdonalds. I thought you might be hungry.”

She fell back into her seat. “I don’t eat.”

I continued to stare at her, confusion etched in my bones. This was only our second meeting and every time she either said or did something that made me question where she came from.

“I know you said you weren’t hungry but what if-.”

Lethia suddenly sat forward. “Is that a church”

With narrowed eyes, I followed her finger as she pointed to a building across the street.

“Uh-yeah?” I answered with hesitation.

“Thank you,” she gave a curt nod then all but scrambled out of my car.

“Wait,” I followed her movements by walking in front of the car.

But it was too late, Lethia was already halfway down the block.

“Where are you going?” I called after her.

“I need to talk to the King!” She waved a hand over her shoulder and then slipped into the sudden darkness that encased the church.

I never pegged her to be the religious type, needing to talk to her king this late in the evening but then again, I didn’t know much about her to begin with.

My feet went to follow but the buzzing from my pocket halted me and when I peered at the screen, I knew I couldn’t ignore this. With a long sigh, I got back into my car, Lethia still heavy on my mind.

LETHIA

I sat in the long, beaten, pew, and stared up at the altar where a lone statue of Jesus stood. His arms spread wide as if it was accepting everyone’s sin with a stone face; literally. A low scowl pulled on my lips as I glared at the statue.

“I don’t understand why your creation was more important than ours. The King always favored you more than us.”

An ear-ringing silence filled the large space of the church as I continued to sit there, waiting for any kind of sign from above.

“I’ve followed you since my creation. I was your number one for as long as I can remember. However, you cast me out because I loved someone other than you? We were all your children but didn’t think twice about turning your back on me.”

I sat forward with a start, hands gripping the pew in front of me and my long black nails dug into the wood.

“Why did you cast me in a different time? Is this punishment?”

The only noise in the church was the sound of the old building creaking with the blowing wind from outside.

“Fuck, give me some sort of answer!” I bellowed, my voice echoing.

More silence and that’s what finally made me rise to my feet with a start and I spat on the floor.

“Why did I think I’d get any answers from you? I’ll figure this out on my own.”

Turning my back to the altar, my footsteps bounced off the marble walls as I pushed open the doors of the church, bounding down the steps with newfound adrenaline. It was foolish of me to think I’d get the answers I deserved in a building that was built for two things; worship and greed.

My fire eyes stared straight ahead as I pushed my way through the bodies of mortals whose problems paled in comparison to mine. My mind was filled with so many different things, that I hadn’t realized I walked straight into a body, never feeling his touch, until my voice was called; quite loudly.

“Lethia!”

My gaze snapped up towards those familiar brown eyes, filled with warmth and concern.

I was wrapped in one of his arms, although I couldn’t feel it, I knew his fingers were grazing over my lower back; I felt it in my heart.

“Are you alright? You look pretty upset,” Noah asked.

His scent tickled my nose and it brought back memories of when I walked in his dream earlier. I was able to feel everything in his dream; his touch, his lips on my skin, his cock as it buried deep inside of me, and my orgasm as it ripped through me.

But here, in the flesh, I couldn’t feel any part of him on my skin. My lip quivered because out of all the confusion on where my life went moving forward, what dug the knife deeper into my chest was the fact I couldn’t feel him.

He’s a mortal! Why does my heart yearn for him in ways I don’t understand?

“Are you following me? It seems like everywhere I turn, you’re there!” I snapped, ripping myself from his embrace.

Something flashed in his eyes. “I promise you, I’m not.”

The tattoo on his neck caught my attention as it peaked through the hood of his black sweater and I felt my hands twitch at my sides. My long nails practically begged me to dig into the bright-colored ink because it mirrored the one on my ribs. There had to be some kind of connection between us, hence why I thought of Noah when I fell and how easily it was to walk into his dream earlier. Not to mention our matching tattoos.

His long hair was pulled back, only a few strands falling into the soft features of his face, and it was then that I noticed the large bag on his shoulder.

“What’s that?” I motioned towards it.

“My guitar,” Noah shifted it on his back.

“Guitar?”

“Yeah,” he nodded with a faint smile. “You know, for music.”

Music.

“You play- music?” I spoke slowly.

“Yeah, I have a band. Bad Omens.”

The proud smile on his face made something flutter in the pits of my stomach and I shifted on my feet at the uncomfortable and unknown feeling.

“Do you know Luce, then? He used to play music all the time for me.” I wondered.

If the King couldn’t give me the answers I sought, I knew Lucifer would if I found him.

Noah’s brows furrowed. “The name doesn't sound familiar, sorry.”

Cursing, I ran a hand through my hair, it still shocked me that my hands smacked my shoulder instead of continuing to run through long longs. The short length would take time to get used to.

“Why don’t you let me take you home? It’s getting kind of late.” He suggested.

I waved him off. “I was kicked out of my home.”

Noah’s jaw dropped slightly. “So, where are you staying then?”

Movement over his shoulder caught my eyes and I sucked in a breath; familiar emerald eyes staring back at me. They were calling me in, pulling my soul back to his. Black strands of his hair were combed back, further showcasing those bright eyes. His olive-colored skin I spent many nights in the Kingdom kissing sparkled under the moonlight.

“Lethia, come home.” His deep rich voice spoke to me.

“Lucifer,” I breathed.

Noah’s face twitched. “What?”

Ignoring him, I pushed past him and through the sea of people, trying to reach Lucifer until his form vanished with the blowing wind.

#tina talks #noah sebastian #bad omens #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian smut #noah sebastian angst #noah sebastian x fallenangel!oc #mercy noah sebastian

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