#Rim Rock Lake

[xo2dee]

ᴊᴜᴊᴜᴛꜱᴜ ᴋᴀɪꜱᴇɴ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

ɪɢɴᴇᴏᴜꜱ

⛧ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Sukuna x (Fem)Reader

⛧ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: true form!sukuna, heian era, sukuna being an ass, mentions of cannibalism, smut, bath sex, very small dom/sub undertones, rough sex, hard degradation, degrading names, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, orgasm delay/denial, dirty talk, asphyxiation, scratching, biting, dirty talk, reader is a masochist, sukuna is a sadist, reader calls sukuna master once, breeding kink, creampie, virginity loss (only hurts like a small amount bc rly it's sukuna, his dick is fucking huge), corruption kink

⛧ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 28,617

⛧ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Volcanic. If you were asked to describe, or even alone thinking about it, you’d say your devotion and passion for the man was volcanic.

⛧ᴀ/ɴ: this is long as fuck and probably one of my most in depth oneshots/smut i ever wrote but what can you expect with someone like sukuna. pls mind the tags and i hope you enjoy!!

⛧twitter - ao3

It was hot, and you weren’t sure if it was because of the Summer night, or because you may have been on the verge of having a hot flash due to tumultuous emotions.  

A lone bead of sweat sliding down your temple to drip onto the collar of your kimono spoke enough for your mood as it matched the apprehension licking its way down the nape of your neck to your trail down along your spine; a startling contrast in the matter to how serene and beautiful the night looked and felt as well.

The night was quiet for the moment, the tatami door haven been opened to give view of the obsidian sky with the risen midnight moon along with the magnificence and abundance of bright stars and lonesome clouds backgrounding it for quite the observation of an onlooker looking for a sight to see. You were no stranger to being enamored by such wonderous sights, your eyelashes falling heavily over your eyes as you blinked in tune to the way a lone breeze swayed the nearby branches of a towering cherry blossom tree, that the petals of wisped away towards the mountain range the palace laid atop of and the smooth and still lake below the palace. It was a heavenly sight, another hard contrast to the inhabitant of the palace that was due any time to come home.

You supposed it was that time again as well, a sigh heaving its way out of your lungs as you dipped a foot in the rippling water of steam and circled it around until the heated liquid tickled along your ankle and soothed the aching bones in your foot. It was time for him to come home, and it was his bath time. It had been two weeks since he had left, a regular occasion he took part of for his taste of carnage and his appetite, and whenever he came back, he was always in a mess and tracking through all the hallways until he got to his designated area for bathing. You knew what he left for, the footsteps painted on the floor in crimson told enough, but that still never deterred you from continuing to service him.

Even if he was a curse, ate people (you preferred not to think about that too much, but the days he came back with his nail beds caked in blood and you spied the corner of his lips crusted in it, it got difficult sometimes), and was all around the most feared presence in the land, he was rather fickle about his baths. He spent a sustainable amount of time in them, something you hadn’t expected from someone like him who spent more time dirtying himself up and dousing himself in blood then dipping himself into the relaxing water of a bath. Yet, given how he carried himself, his bath was fit for that of a King.

The onsen was closed off from a good part of the palace, remotely only near his quarters and where he lounged around for most of the day, and it was as beautiful as you had expected for how nice you noted the palace was whenever you first arrived there. Inside rather than out with dimly fire lanterns and the view you were looking out at from before, it was rimmed with a fine edge before lining itself up with various rocks holding a spout that continually poured hot water into the circular structure in a rippling rhythm that calmed your mind as much as it put your body on edge. It was wide enough for him and him alone, the sheer height of him taking up most of the bath as was and normally leaving no room for anyone else.

He truly made it for himself alone to enjoy after drawn out days.

You sighed again as your gut churned, not in trepidation per se, but more-so because you were inclined to see him again in a sick sense of affection you had taken up for him for the time you had been serving him. It was morally wrong, and perhaps a bad decision on your part to care for someone who had no regard for any human life, but you blamed it on your lack traction therefore in the matters of not having someone steer you in the right direction. Truth be told, serving the palace and him was truly all you had, something that he knew just as much as you did as it catered to his liking whenever he was in his mood to tease.

You were still deciding if that was pathetic on your half or not, and apparently it seemed to be to him if the many times you had huffed at him that you’d leave, and he had laughed in your face while goading you on told you anything.

(He had told you that you were free to leave if you so wished, but not only did that disregard the idea of you being killed over it if you left, it also disregarded the fact that whenever you said so and he aggravated you on to do it the grip he’d have on your obi or your waist spoke otherwise in a means to tell you that you weren’t going anywhere regardless.

Not that you particularly minded that either, the palace was rather luxurious and offered a good amount of protection, but you only ever said that at times to feel the sting of his nails through your kimono into your skin whenever he got wound up over the idea of you leaving. He liked to tease and laugh at you knowing you truly didn’t have the guts to leave him, but another part of you whispered treacherously in your ear that the mere thought of you running away from him made him angrier than he would’ve liked for himself. And that was something you weren’t sure of on your behalf whenever he’d dismiss and ignore you seemingly afterwards, but also something that only fueled your burning longing for him at the mere indication of his possessive nature over you.)

Withdrawing your foot from the water as it seemed to be accordingly to his temperature, you decided then to pass the time and bent low enough to pass your fingers through it, your knees pressed together hugging your chest as you tickled your fingertips along the ripples that seemed to calm your nerves for the time being. You tried to keep your head clear of any greying thoughts to keep your ears alive for the sounds of his footsteps, yet it was hard to focus when all you could think of was actually seeing him again. You ended up answering your earlier question to whether you were pathetic or not when you remembered that you put on a fine, white kimono embroidered with red orchids that accentuated you outstandingly, and one that he had supplied you with a while back before, for his return and the moment you had been told you’d be preparing his bath.

You didn’t necessarily know why you felt anxious to see him once again, you had welcomed him back plenty of times after his ‘trips’, yet you supposed it was more-so something you always felt deep down from your lingering desire for him that you had desperately tried to ignore.

(Then again, the older servant was always the one bath duty, and it had gotten put on you as she was busy tending to cleaning other things, so you were the one stuck with making sure all of his needs for the bath he’d demand for the moment he got back were ready.)

There was a long moment of silence as you lost yourself in your thoughts involuntarily, the breeze quiet and the lonely owl that had been hooting suddenly stopping as the hairs on the back of your neck rose in all-too familiar sensation. It was a suffocating sense, blanketing you in a surge of energy that tickled your nerves and nearly feel like your ribs were tightening in on themselves. Part of you could feel that sliver of fear make itself known with a pang to your stomach and your pulse quickening, yet the other more depraved part knew exactly what it was as the hum in your lower abdomen spoke enough for you as you released a low breath when the tendrils curled around your neck.

You blinked as it abruptly dissipated from you… then –

“Oh? Taking a bath without me? Or, perhaps, waiting on me?”

You never could find out how someone so big like him could sneak up on you like that, nor from the way you constantly kept your eyes and ears out for him, but lo and behold he always did and found it humorous if you ever jumped like a skittish cat. Nevertheless, your shoulders did jerk upwards, but you quickly stamped it down in favor of maintaining a mask of indifference rather than surprise and excitement to seeing him again. Last thing you needed was him bringing up so that you looked happy to see him again after so long to stroke his already large ego.

Yet you stood perhaps more quickly than you intended, bowing to him before looking at him while wiping your fingers along your robe and swallowing down the ball of saliva lodged into your throat to address him properly. The other trivial annoyance you didn’t what to happen was your voice to crack or to choke on your words in front of him in newfound nervousness that you got to see him again and for him to start teasing you for that as well. It was bad enough he liked to egg on your feistiness to try and get you to snap.

“I didn’t hear you come in; I apologize.”

His voice always slithered down your spine, the wavelengths wiggling into your brain to take home there each time you heard that low tremor leave his chest and soothe itself deep into your muscles and bones. “Lost in your own thoughts? Here I was thinking you were going for a dip.” Eerily, you compared his voice and tone to that of him dragging a nail slowly down your spine, tickling you at the same time of enticing you for whatever more sensations he could bring to your mind and body. “If you were though, then by all means don’t stop on my account…”

The warmth that enveloped your face didn’t help, out of annoyance or flusterment you weren’t sure, but you were glad that he couldn’t see your face so easily from your bent over position to see the thoughts cross over your expression and color your eyes. You stomped it down however, swallowing and holding back a sigh as you replied, “I wasn’t, and I got lost in time more-so.”

The hum that left him seemed to vibrate your entire body albeit you being several feet away from him, your eyelashes falling over your eyes heavily a few times as you alternated from looking at your own feet to his. The stark contrast in the clean and smooth vision of your feet and the crimson that coated his own feet and stained the floor always caught your attention, but you had long since grown out of feeling discouraged by it. You remained bowed at the waist as you watched him walk forward a few steps, eyes on the dark ink circled around his ankles and the sound of them apparent then as he tracked more blood as he went.

You didn’t rise up from your bow of respect just then, knowing he liked it when you waited for his dismissal of it as he also hated whenever people looked up at him without permission, and if the telling signs of his bare legs leading up to his thighs circled with the same onyx ink told you anything, it was that he was already nude (the man had no concept of modesty it seemed… well, apparently around you as you didn’t know if he walked around completely bare around the other servants). It was best you didn’t look for your own dignity. You could already feel the warmth take home in your cheeks and body the same time he spoke again, fighting down the urge to squirm whenever you felt the weight of his devilish eyes on you in a careful and powerful caress.

“How unlike you…” he drawled off, a tinting of humor in his voice while you watched him dip his own foot into the bath, the water tinging into a red from the essence on it, “Normally you’re the first I see and the last I get to watch go. I nearly thought you may have finally grew some guts and ran away like you’ve been crying about, but seeing you accounted for in here…” His voice was always so smooth no matter the scenario, yet the way he curled his tongue around the last words and syllables to let them linger in the air stirred a sensation down into your thighs.

“That’s not –”

“Hmm? ‘That’s not –‘,” he mimicked the tone of your voice in a manner that sounded way worse and more desperate than you would’ve liked to even admit since you knew he only did it when your voice took on a higher pitch, and heard his tongue click loudly against the roof his mouth, “What is it then?”

You bit into your cheek, feeling humiliated that longer you stood there in your bow and listened to him begin to pick you apart and willing yourself to not give in to biting back. However, you were none too strong in that department and found the words leaving your mouth before you could stop them. “All the servants are always there when you come back… and we never leave until you say so.”

There was a short, bite of his laughter, the sound of the water rippling as you shut your eyes when you realized he was walking in, and he was just as quick to throw something back to you. “And yet, I see you the most. Even now after I dismissed you, you still stand there bowing… Perhaps seeking validation from your Master, girl?”

It was hard then, your jaw clenching as he continued to prattle off in a challenge to get you to snap at him so he could have a good laugh and toy with you as he seemed fit. The feeling of awe quickly left you in favor of burning humiliation and annoyance over his inclination to keep reminding you of his place over you and how you tried to never call him that even from the moment you met him, knowing damn well of the dastard smirk that marred his face as he said it. He could probably see your form stiffen anyway, finding sick amusement in the way he knew he could make you annoyed if he accused you of trying to suck up to him.

Bastard.

You rose back up and reopened your eyes, dead set staring at the sliding door he came through so that you could easily make your leave since he had already dismissed you and had his fun toying with you. Your fingers knotted in the front of your kimono, teeth nearly feeling as if they were going to crack and break from how hard you were gnashing them together as you glared at the door instead of him. Then you remembered why you were more anxious for his return than excited: his mouth. Forget the affection you had, you were quick to remember how much of a bastard he was that annoyed you more than anything.

“Then,” you started out, making sure you added a tinge of venom onto the tip of your tongue as you smoothed your hands down your robe, “if you’re done and I’m not needed, I’ll be leaving.”

Your nape prickled with the feeling of being watched so intensely, though you were none too ready to look him in the eye since each time you did so sent you careening down further in the pool of treacherous and growing emotions you had for him. However, even as you went to leave, he wasn’t ready to let you go so easily.

“Brat. Where do you think you’re running off to now?”

You paused, mid-footstep and your heart constricted in your chest to let that fire die away the moment the words left his mouth and a familiar pit growing inside of your stomach from the tone of his voice. You had only heard it before in hushed whispers with your blistering jealousy you tried to ignore when you caught wind of him seeking out concubines. You hated the envy that grew like an incurable parasite in your mind the moment you find out he entertained himself with others, yet it was folly whenever you realized they never did last long and usually only were sought out for one night.

A swallow broke your silence, gnawing unease and buzzing excitement bubbling inside of you as you waited for him to continue and hoped it wasn’t anything that costed you your life. You were sure it was only so much before he could take your bratty attitude (but it wasn’t like he never indulged himself in your feistiness), yet his inclination to egg it on and the fact you were still walking around serving him spoke for different reasons. There were your days though, as his mood swings could’ve been compared to stranger, unparalleled weather, that he outright didn’t acknowledge your existence and all but turned his nose up at the ‘little human servants’ he had for himself, and then the next day he was grinning at you in perverse asking you if you wanted to sit on his lap instead of on your knees at his feet. He was enigma in all intentions, but he was also a creature of chaos you had to walk on heated glass for in circumspection to not fall into the boiling lava below that’d melt the flesh right off your skin with one wrong step taken too far or with too much weight applied.

After all, he was still a curse, and an awfully powerful one that could crush you at that.

“Look at me.”

Damn.

You didn’t outwardly sigh in fear of him hearing it and getting put off from it, instead heaving it in and out mentally as you accepted your fate that he wasn’t going to let you leave without addressing him properly. You squared your shoulders to gather up as much bravery and confidence you could to look turn and look him squarely in the eye – eyes… for whatever he had planned. It wasn’t like you hadn’t looked him dead in the eyes before, watching that stupid smirk line his mouth whenever he caught the glint of a fire in your eyes, but it had become even harder after he told you he could read you like an open book and knew every emotion you were feeling looking through your eyes alone. After that, you had done your damnedest to try and not let him know of the feelings you had for him that you knew were present in your face whenever you looked at him.

In the end you obliged him, turning slowly to finally face him and meeting his eyes after so long. His eyes were as red as they could’ve been, molten heat coming from them that liquified hard into your stomach in knots that ran free like magma cascading out of a volcano the longer you were exposed to them. And even as you stood there taking in his form relaxed and spread out in the bath becoming a tinge of a pink color from all the blood, you could only think of the growing tension that was building between you two from the amount of time you had been serving him.

Volcanic.

If you were asked to describe, or even alone thinking about it, you’d say your devotion and passion for the man was volcanic. It had been dormant the moment you saw him, watching the way all four of those eyes slid along all of the new servants’ bodies in a lazy dispute with his chin propped up by one of the four fists he had, like he was sizing all of you up and seeing if you all were truly worthy enough to be in his presence. The lava inside of you tied to the strings of your affection for him were properly quiet and loose for then, your spine tensing and senses prickling in trepidation the moment he landed on you and did his own sweep of you head-to-toe before meeting your eyes. You had stared back with as much indifference you could endure, your shoulders laxing the moment he looked away and moved on, miffed with his bored expression and gnashing your molars together to wonder just what he wanted by all of it.

When he hadn’t been looking and swept his hand through the air to dismiss all of but three of you, you took him in. The bulk and ripple in his bicep the moment he moved his hand proved his strength, the dark shade of his long nails matching the black ink circling around visible body parts told you more of him, the four arms nearly as horrifying as the mouth atop his abdomen and second face atop of him protruding outwards was telling of his nature, his hair a pretty shade of pink like the kimono you had been wearing that day and the glowing of his crimson eyes matching the blood that had stained his mouth and seeped into the cracks of floor as it dripped in tune off of his fingers the next day when you realized what had happened to the rest of the servants sans you and two others. He lived up his name then, the stories you had been told matching everything you had seen as you got down onto your knees with your cheek caught between your teeth and scrubbed away to clean the floor right below his feet.

He was… grotesque and monstrous; carved straight from the flesh pits of Hell by the Devil himself. Truly a curse in the world when you remembered all the atrocities he had done and the sights you had witnessed serving under him as you allowed the back his hand to wisp across your cheek and your head for your promise to him. A mock of affection you supposed, letting the hands that ripped and teared through people lay upon the top of your head in a pet in moments you sat on your knees in front of him, and it was horrifying to think about how he did it and how much you enjoyed it the more he did so.

He was plainly evil as they came, nothing but a void of obscurity that followed him in dark fog of bad luck for those he deemed it fit for. He was… 

Sukuna.

Or as you had heard in hushed whispers the name villagers whimpered in fear at the mere thought of him: Ryoumen Sukuna.

Two-face Sukuna. You didn’t understand until you saw him up close that day, unable to look away from the uncanny way he looked when all four eyes landed on you and bored into your very soul to strip away any fabrications lying overtop yourself in his name. 

At that moment however, his name didn’t scare you as much as it did back then when you had been living in your village still, alone and bound to another before you ran off at nineteen from the prospect of vowing yourself to another before you ironically curled in on that thought and ended up ‘vowing’ yourself to another. You couldn’t remember when it changed honestly, serving him turning into… well, you were still serving him, but the complications that came along with it twirled away from you being just a measly servant that tended to his needs to someone that also kept his entertainment high whenever he was bored. You didn’t know why it was you; perhaps it was the way you liked to stare at him, scouring every inch of his skin you couldn’t find the means as to why you found him so fascinating, how you wondered someone of such an extent could even exist and how the man before you had once been a human, to the very reason of why he seemed to keep you around.

(You learned mere hours later that after cleaning the blood running through the floor that you and the other two had been the lucky ones, and you were best to be glad to be the one fitted for his presence.)

The magma inside of you had boiled the moment Sukuna first brushed against you, the muscle in his arm bigger than your head skimming along the side of you the moment he walked past and forever changing the way you looked at him whenever he brushed your cheek with an open palm. It was scalding; his skin hot with the blood of a curse coursing through his veins and deterring you from having any other focus for the rest of the day. It was an array emotions from then on out, your lust burning like hot lava in your gut every time he was near and spiraling out of control in moments you’d get your ‘praise’ whenever you did something right. You weren’t too sure if he showed the same type of ‘affection’ to the other servants, but there was a part of you that it didn’t quite settle well with if he did.

And it wasn’t like you ever got the pleasure of the people he brought into his bed, something that clawed at your brain in envy after you realized the extent of what you were beginning to feel for the man.

Part of you felt horribly disgusted with yourself the moment you realized your heart stuttered at the sight of him and your gut twisted at the mere mention of him, your inclination (or lack of, therefore) towards the men of the village not even comparing to your captivation with the King of Curses in spite of his carnage. Though perhaps it was because he was someone you had not ever seen before, his looks and power unmatchable above all else that drew you in like a moth to a flame and your sick attraction to knowing that the man could easily kill you with a flick of his wrist, but he didn’t. And that was perhaps what was so fascinating to you about everything and why your emotions went to Hell when it came to him, a burning stone inside of your mind and heart that continued to grow against your sternum brighter and larger with no intention of dying out the longer you were around him.

What made it worse was that he knew; he knew, if the intentional claw grazing across your cheek in a sign of mock affection with that smirk that was nearly too big for his face told you anything. He knew and he was playing with you, holding the strings to your puppet waving you around and wondering just when you’d crack and let him win his little game. You were none too ready to give in to him however, something that more than likely equally goaded him and annoyed him, but you knew if you wanted to keep his attention you were going to have to keep him busy with toying with you.

And so far, it seemed to be working.

Sukuna’s stare was like a white-hot cast iron pouring its contents all over your skin, seeping deep into your bones that groaned from the attention and melted away into mush inside of your muscles to leave you weak in the limbs ready to fall to your knees before him, and even as you watched his eyes do that long drag down your body and back up to your face like they always did, you already knew he was in for another round of a game. His form always captivated you, as it was in that moment from the way two of his arms were perched atop the rim of the bath and the other two lying still in the water, steam rising from his skin and water together creating a thin layer of haziness about him as the rest of his body was covered but the middle of his abdomen and up, so you were free from embarrassment of seeing the rest of him (not that it wasn’t something you hadn’t thought of at times, especially when you took in his towering height and double appendages).

You held his stare firmly, trying your best to not show your obvious flusterment he had brought upon you again, and the red of his eyes carved out a chunk of your gut to leave you with an even bigger pit of anxiety. Not so much that you were afraid of him, but wary of the rising fire between you two that seemed to be getting out of control the longer it was kept up with. Part of you wondered when it would eventually simmer, the fire dying and solidifying to its cool texture into that of an igneous rock in semblance of what was brewing between you two, and part of you was anticipating it ended soon.

“What is it?” you eventually asked, inwardly squirming from those bright eyes and masking your voice to sound less wobbly than you felt.

A fine, arched eyebrow rose on Sukuna’s face, his eyes narrowing to that of a feline’s (Sukuna was like a cat, you realized; he was a big, lazy cat flicking its tail about in a challenge for you cross over into his territory, and likewise to that of a feline toying around with you much like one would a mouse – cornering it and playing with it until it seemingly had enough) and a low hum leaving him. He made a show of eating you alive with just his stare before you watched one of his arms below the water rise, his index finger already pointed out as he flicked water off his clawed nail and turned his hand upwards, curling the long and thick appendage in a ‘come hither’ motion at you.

“Come here.”

The command made you still for a moment, your stomach suddenly flipping on itself in numerous different directions and filled the most chaotic of emotions. That phantom burn was back, cutting into your body and leaving deep lacerations along your flesh in its wake for the lava to take home and seep into your veins, while your heart stuttered at the call. You were no stranger to it, often obeying regularly and tending to whatever he wanted, but having him say it in the condition he was in was… not particularly something you were used to. Sukuna was well known for only wearing a layer of garment along his bottom half with no footwear or a top in sight (as well as the times he strutted around in just a kimono that showed more skin than covered it, more-so because he wore women’s kimonos since the sleeves could fit his other arms as well, which was why you and the other servants normally got kimonos as seemed fit), so you were used to just shamelessly ogling his chest and abdomen as much as you wanted, but him nude?

Not something you got to see, and there was a part of you that wondered if he was doing it on purpose.

(Foolish of you to even consider it, you knew that he knew that he was doing it for a reason.)

Nevertheless, you followed after his call, your steps somewhat slow as his hand remained outstretched, though he changed to his palm being open and face-up. You regarded him carefully as you got close enough to stand over him, watching his nostrils flare once before he nodded his head at you to come closer with the movements of his fingers helping him as well. A swallow was all you could muster, watching as one eye watched the movement very carefully before sliding back up to your face, awaiting for you to bend down far enough to his level so that your face was closer to his.

“Closer,” he purred, full lips twitching to barely hold his sick sense of humor.

You didn’t want to think on how the tone of his voice sent you mentally into another spiral, your ribs tightening and a snake wrapping itself around your stomach burning with the ravenous want for what was presented and to strike out for what it sought after. You could feel the hum along your lower belly, the sweat lining your spine ever-present as you as you felt another drop of it slide along down your back as you bent low enough for to rest your chin into his palm. Not something that hadn’t been done before either, but not used to it as well since it seemed rather intimate in some situations as opposed to him sizing you up.

His hand was as warm as it always was, and fingers still strong as he closed them in on your cheeks and pressed into your face. Sukuna squeezed your cheeks so much that it puckered your lips into a pout, something you duly noted that he took into consideration as the tips of his nails slightly dug into your skin. You blinked heavily trying to hold the eye contact, no doubt knowing that he could hear and perhaps feel the increase in your breathing and the thudding of your heart as that became fact when his lips twitched and another hum vibrated through his chest. Sukuna’s long eyelashes lowered over his eyes the same instance his canines came into light from his grin, sharp and dangerous in the warm light from the lantern that did little to help ease the sculpted contours on his face lined with that dark ink.

Sukuna leant in closer to you, his smell of blood masked by the wafting heat into your nostrils and eye ducts making you blink cutely at him as one of his eyes drifted around every inch of your face, “Perhaps you weren’t so eager to see me back then?” he murmured almost dreamily into your face, a front he put on whenever he was blatantly asking for you to stroke his ego, “A shame… Leaving so soon after seeing me.”

He squeezed your face once and relished in watching your expression push into one, before letting up enough for you to talk and grazing a nail along your cheekbone, “I’m not,” you persisted, more on the desperate side than you would’ve liked to admit, but seeing his eyes light up at your whine encouraged you to keep speaking, “I just thought you were dismissing me… And I’m always eager to see you back and I always eagerly await your return.” Your fingers clenched around the fabric of your kimono, Sukuna’s attention so close to your face making you think of less appropriate things to do to him and wonder just what it was like to feel his sharp teeth bite into your lower lip.

The grin that twisted his face was something that excited you as much as it unsettled you, like he was the cat who caught the canary and was going in for meal. His fingers squished your cheeks together once more before they drifted off, a finger trailing to pull down on your bottom lip before it slowly curled around your neck in one swift squeeze. Your thighs tightened in on themselves at the contact, his hands so much larger than your own something that never went unnoticed by you or him as his seven foot and some inches form completely dwarfed everyone in the palace. His nostrils flared in a show before he spoke, nails slightly digging into your neck as he squeezed your throat harder and his thumb rubbed along your pulse point.

“Eager to please, aren’t you?”

Yes, yes, yes. Your fingers knotted harder into your kimono, knuckles protruding outwards from your skin, “Always for you, Lord Sukuna.”

“How interesting,” he purred out once again in your face, a low vibrato that tickled your brain just right and had you biting the inside of your cheek when it warmed your body. However, nothing really prepared you for the moment he dropped his eyes down to look at your mouth, a low hum leaving again as brought his face mere centimeters away from your own.

You froze, not used to the attention he brought an intimate area like that, watching through heavy eyes and a parted mouth as he only seemed to come closer into your space.

Was he…

Your face warmed heavily, steam from the Onsen not helping as you fought between looking at his lips and his eyes, his face coming closer… and closer… and closer until –

Sukuna’s hand abruptly left your throat, flicking your forehead before pressing a finger there as he suddenly leant back away from you and pushed you away by the finger on your forehead. He had the gall to look disinterested again, like he was annoyed as another hand rose to scratch at the inside of his ear whilst looking off the side and examining the nails on another hand.

“Then you can wash my hair… and clean my nails. I can’t be bothered to do it right now since you’re so willing.”

The heat from the water just below you wasn’t enough to keep that foggy screen you were looking through at him up, the dousing chill you felt encase your body overwhelm you the moment he pushed you away by just a finger was enough to bring you out of your stupor. Whatever fog you had conjured up in a hazy mist looking at him whenever he had your face in his hand completely dissipated as he disregarded you from that odd little playout you two were having. Of course, what were you thinking? Sukuna never once really showed intimate affection that of a kiss to anyone so far from what you had seen, so what would have made you so different? It was your girlish wants, your long-time dream since you were a child to have a King or just a strong man offer up some affection to you, to have your first kiss by someone so powerful and take you into their arms…

It was every woman’s dream down in the village you had been born into, full of prospering life and growing by the day, but also your village was only down the mountain away from you lived as of then. And the King that you all looked up to was not the king your mother had read to you about in bedtime stories.

In reality, you were longing from a kiss from the Devil himself nearly; inhumane in his features and actions, and not a King that was seeking a Queen more than he was seeking out the means to drive fear into people to let it be known he was the dominant lifeform in their world. Sukuna was the one they needed to fear and was to respect, and he was the one that got it, because no one in their best mind would dare to oppose him – unless, of course, you wanted to talk about the abundance of sorcerers that had it out for him. Nevertheless, when you took in your situation and the reminder of your less than inclined attitude to seek out the men in your village rather than a curse, you supposed you could only blame yourself for falling up short and deeming yourself a true fool like he would call you.

You respected Sukuna, and, as much you wanted to bask in his affections and wanted him, in that same dance you could not stand his presence at times.

“Then you can wash my hair… and clean my nails. I can’t be bothered to do it right now since you’re so willing.”

You couldn’t stand him. He was annoying.

The entirety of the words caught within your throat you wanted to say to him felt like vomit stuck to your tongue, leaving you to steady yourself after his show of indifference to cover your humiliation as one-hundred words of varying degree ran through your mind at his behavior. You should’ve expected it though, it wasn’t the first time Sukuna toyed with you and you had gotten your hopes up for a sliver of affection, and it wasn’t the first time that it happened either for you to get caught up in thinking he was obliging you only for him to feign innocence and order you to do something else entirely. He was a conniving bastard really.

Moreover, you swallowed it all down, maintaining eye contact with the lower eye he had directed at you still to gauge your reaction whilst still inspecting his disgusting nails, and bowed with your cheek caught between your molars hard enough to draw blood, “As you wish.” You really were pathetic, weren’t you?

The noise that pushed passed Sukuna’s lips sounded more like a huff, like he was aggravated that you were obeying his orders instead sneering at him that he played with your wants and you were just obedient as always.  He perplexed you in more ways than one at instances like so, as he demanded and expected the world’s best respect from his servants and ‘disposed’ (read: killed and ate) the ones that didn’t meet those expectations. You knew Sukuna was a complex being, his interests being so flippant and his moods changing so fast it gave you whiplash, but for being fussy about wanting you to get down on your knees with your forehead to the floor praising him he sure did prod at you to get you lash out at him like you had done that one time…

You preferred not to think of it too much, a sigh you kept welled up in your lungs as you meandered over behind him, as the look in Sukuna’s eyes that day frightened you as much as it had excited you. It wasn’t that he was particularly angry, the dilated pupils spoke enough for that, but you didn’t realize how much he liked it whenever you finally spoke around him that wasn’t your mumblings that he made you repeat because he ‘couldn’t hear you’. Truth be told, you didn’t think about it often because it got you more… desireful than you would’ve liked to admit, and that defiant streak you had hidden underneath the constrictions of your kimonos came to life every time you saw that light in his eyes.

You ignored Sukuna’s little predator stare he was shooting at you as you came to stand behind him, a frown marring your face as you realized the only way to ‘tend’ to him was to sit directly behind him… with your legs opens… and perhaps nearly having your legs over his shoulders…. Bath duty was going to be the death of you.

The throb that emitted from within was a tickling sensation along with the presence of dampness rubbing against you, like your heartbeat was finding a home elsewhere and very familiar to you when you remembered it was same exact feeling you had felt welling up in your lower abdomen on a night that you had slid your fingers underneath your kimono and into your undergarments when you remembered that Sukuna was –

Sukuna’s head shifted, two bright, cherry-colored eyes finding your own in deadly precision that rooted you to your spot and diminished all thought in your mind whenever he spoke so quietly and sharp you had to strain to hear him.

“What are you doing?”

You blinked along with a small swallow, focusing on the dab of blood along his sculpted jawline and reprimanding yourself for getting aroused at merely the thought of your bare thighs touching his (bulging, ridiculously muscled, big) shoulders and arms and pulled yourself together enough to answer him. “I… I’ll have to sit behind you, to wash your hair that is.”

Sukuna gave you a languid blink, “And your point is?”

Ah yes, what was my point? “I was just letting you know that since I know you don’t like being touched without permission…” You’d be lying if you said you didn’t speak between clenched teeth at his haughty behavior.

“That’s hardly a problem… However –” You didn’t necessarily like the way his face split up into another Cheshire grin, a perverse nature in the way he slid one eye along what he could see of your body, “seems like that kimono’s a little too tight to spread your legs in, take it off and you’ll have an easier time. Don’t wanna mess it up either, do you?”

Despite what may have been Sukuna’s true intentions to get a peek of your form for his own pleasure, he was right. Your obi had been tied securely that morning, like it always was since you hated constantly readjusting it whenever you were tending to your daily duties, and the kimonos normally were restricting as was, but that still didn’t quell the bundle of tickles welling up in the acid of your stomach at the mere thought of just undressing in front of him. Having a nagajuban on underneath helped some and you could easily move your legs better in it, but it was also one less layer of fabric that separated you from Sukuna and it was rather thin.

Nevertheless, you complied him with a bow and flusterment evident in your eyes, deftly undoing your obi and the articles that helped secure your kimono in place before you were slipping your arms up through the silk sleeves and unraveling yourself free of the kimono. And all the while as you did so, he stared. That same stare you got whenever he was in a mood and wanted to toy with as deemed fit; the heat of the gaze of which hotter than the water in bath as you felt it prickle along your skin in chills in a phantom burn that boiled much like lava inside of a volcano ready to erupt. It was unnerving as it was seducing, feeling two eyes that time slide along the silhouette of your figure through the reedy fabric of your robe as you pulled yourself free of the extravagant kimono and folded it up to lie on a nearby jutting rock, and whenever you returned your gaze back to him he had nothing but that slick smirk split up on his face and eyes dilated as he shamelessly looked at you from head to toe.

“That’s better. Now c’mere,” he wiggled two fingers at you, eyelashes lowering in a way that shouldn’t have made him look as handsome as it did, “I’ve waited long enough.”

Sukuna was going to be the death of you. Metaphorically or literally, you weren’t sure, but you knew the costs of what you were getting into the moment you stuck around and followed after him like some lost puppy.

You gave him another nod, trying your best not to sneer at the back of his head whenever another short laugh left his chest as he faced back forward, and took the most inaudible, long inhale and exhale as you could before lowering yourself down to sit behind him. Even then you knew that any type inspiring mental talk you tried to put yourself through, that nothing would’ve really prepared for what you were going to do. You had touched Sukuna before in brushes much like he did you, but what you were going to do then didn’t compare at all.

The heat from Sukuna’s body was radiating, already making you flutter your eyes from the mere onslaught of it so close to you as you came down on your knees first, the thin layer of your nagajuban letting your covered knees skim across the expanse of his broad back. It was then you realized sitting on your knees wouldn’t work, pulling them out from under you with your cheek caught between your teeth as you wiggled your feet into the free space that wasn’t took up by the sheer mass of his body. Still, even then your knees were slightly digging into his shoulder blades, warm skin from his body churned your stomach and made you spread your legs further to try and help quell the familiar, uncomfortable knot growing within you at the mere thought of touching him.

You squirmed a fraction, lightly wincing at the all-telling sensation of dampness coating you that you’d have to care of later that night.

And in front of you, Sukuna cracked the knuckles in his fingers.

You tried not to think about the contrast in the light of your robe and the darkness of a spread tattoo scaling down his shoulder blade brushing against one and another, instead swallowing your anxiety as best as you could and ready to ask him what he wanted done first when you abruptly stopped by a splash of water hitting your face.

One arm of his had suddenly rose, a hand flicking all five of its fingers as he presented it to you to flick the droplets in your face, and his voice droning out as you blinked the hot water free of your eyelashes. “Start with my nails, you’re a woman so you should know how to do it… Though, your nails are disgusting half the time.”

Bastard.

Thankfully he couldn’t see the way you rolled your eyes, grimacing at the back of his head while keeping your hateful words to yourself when you obliged him and took hold of the hand he was presenting to you. Never mind that they were painfully calloused and as warm as ever, the size of Sukuna’s hands compared to your own would forever startle you – Hell, the size of his hands whenever he brushed them across your face was horrifying. He was larger than you on every way, something that should’ve frightened you and made you turn away, but even as you sat there digging your nails to pick free dried blood and flesh bits embedded into his own, you couldn’t find the means to turn away in disgust from him.

And on your own accord, you still obliged him, cleaning his nails free of any gunk to his liking.

(Though, he had the audacity to tell you that your nails were disgusting when his were always coated in old blood and pieces of human flesh whenever he ripped through people and didn’t have Uraume present to cook for him, and you were more-so annoyed that he was just being a hypocrite and prodding at you.)

Whenever you had finished one hand and were pulling free a rotten piece of skin from underneath his thumb’s nail on the second, he spoke while flicking water about, “Your sharp ass knees are digging into my back, move them.”

You would’ve grumbled if you didn’t think he’d dunk you underwater, obliging him as you then decided to be slightly cheeky and throw your legs over his shoulders, calves sitting snugly atop them as your feet rested along his pectorals. He gave no reaction much to your chagrin, perhaps a slight tilt to his head to acknowledge that you had put them there, but otherwise it seemed he didn’t care. Unsurprising given Sukuna’s odd nature to randomly touch you whenever he felt like it, but a win on your part since it wasn’t so often you were freely able to touch him.

Once you had grimaced and flicked his nails free on the second hand and moved onto his third, Sukuna graced you with his own version of light conversation, something you weren’t necessarily used to given his penchant of cooing at you in backhanded compliments and ways to get you to stroke his ego. Though, you perked every moment that he actively spoke, whether it was to you individually or not.

“You interest me, you know that?”

You paused, surprised and perplexed at the claim, and turned your gaze a stray pink strand of hair curled over his ear, “I’m not sure what you mean.”

He casted a long look at you from over his shoulder, a glittering red eye sharpened and narrowed down as it nearly felt like he pulling your soul out bare for him to observe and prod at as he seemed fit. “Don’t play coy, girl, you don’t think I don’t know of your little situation?”

Situation… You had various ideas running along in your head to what he could’ve been alluding to, but the one that stuck to you the most was you ever-growing feelings for him that you were sure he had eventually caught onto. Still, you wanted to at least try and play ignorant with him in hopes he got impatient and just told you instead of dangling it above your head. “I still don’t –"

Sukuna mimicked your voice again, cutting you off and flicking a hand through the water, “’I still don’t –’, bah, don’t give me that innocent bullshit you like to pretend you have with me,” he turned forward with a sneer, but a hand from underneath the water rose to curl its fingers around your ankle, scratching at your skin there before trailing a long nail up your calf, “A girl unmarried comes here from the village… Willingly as well. Can’t tell if you’re just stupid or got a death wish, but given your… situation there’s a little more to the story, isn’t there?”

Your skin puckered and tickled from his ministrations, something he caught on to as the tip of his nose grazed along the side of your knee, dangerously close to your inner thighs while he sniffed you in his course. He repeated the motion twice before he pinched your calf and sent you a hard look from underneath his eyelashes, a signal he wanted you to speak up and answer him before he lost interest and left you hanging.

And if there was anything you wanted, it was Sukuna’s full interest in you.

“You said it yourself,” you managed out, rubbing your thumb along the jointed bone in his middle finger, “people do get insufferable at times.”

Sukuna’s nose tickled along your inner thigh so delicately as you felt your lower abdomen twist and flip at the action, nerves coursing through your spine and veins as he pulled away and circled his nail around your Achille’s heel. He hummed once while alternating between your balancing your leg up on one finger and bouncing it, an air of inquisitiveness to him as he regarded your words. “How odd of you to say, turning against your own species. Still, satisfy my curiosity; what was it? Are you just ‘adventurous’, looking for a way out in life? Hmm, that doesn’t suit you, you hardly ever roam around here; maybe it’s something deeper, huh?”

You didn’t answer him right away, his thumb nail dipping into your foot enough to draw a small dab of blood that you didn’t shy away from. Nor did you feel disgust when he turned his head enough for you to watch his ridiculously long tongue fall free of his mouth and lick up a slow trail to let the stray blood broken free of your skin seep into his tastebuds. You could see the ink on his tongue that matched the markings on his body, but you were more enamored in the way his tongue felt lapping along your flesh, the length of which you were aware, but the feeling of it tickling along you in wet laps, hot from his carcass of a mouth and puckering your skin was… enticing.

You wondered if you tasted good to him, a devious thought crossing your mind whenever you briefly thought it would feel like to have his tongue drag its way up your inner thighs until wiggling along a place that had never been touched before… a place you were more than willing to allow him to defile if he so wished. It was no secret Sukuna had sex, but it was always a want to know what it was like – not just in general, but with him.

The coil that had been steadily growing in your belly pulled considerably at the path your mind suddenly took, deep in the recesses of your mind thoughts that you only conjured up late at night, and your expression withered into that of mock pain as you flexed the calf he was holding from all the attention. Sukuna cut his eyes back to you, wriggling his tongue back into his mouth and a low hum rumbling of his chest as he assessed your expression.

“What was it?” he continued without missing a beat, dismissing the fact that he had just licked you, “Parents about to marry you off to some flesh bag down there and you just couldn’t stand the idea of being tied down? How droll, living the rest of your little life serving someone, I could only imagine how it burns you up inside…”

…What was he getting at?

“Or –” his curled all fingers around your ankle, and squeezed, “Perhaps they can’t handle you, your bratty mouth is enough to speak for and I don’t think anyone would put up with it… so maybe you ran off thinking you could find someone that could live up to your wants…” Sukuna’s nails dug into your foot harder, scratching away at your skin as more blood ran free and coated his appendages in a startlingly crimson. It seemed he was truly just an insatiable creature when it came to his appetite – be it flesh or other wants in general, Sukuna was voracious.

You winced at the wounds, the sting of pain burning just for a moment until it numbed out, replacing a heated hum within your mind and body at the rough treatment, and you waited for him to elaborate further. Your mind was less than stable for the moment, wondering just how he seemed to know everything about you when you never even spoke of your past to him. Though, he had a point when he mentioned your deep-rooted desires…

“So?” he prodded at you, catching your attention before it wandered off too far, “Tell me. Maybe your dearest father sold you off and you’re covering it up because you can’t take the fact they didn’t want you. Don’t be so upset about it… all the women like that end up here; just damaged goods…” His voice tampered off into a sick purr, like he enjoyed the idea you may have had issues with your family and it was why you ended up at his palace, and his tone trailed into something that offered a façade of softness. He was talking to you like he was taking pity on you, but if it wasn’t for the condescending way he was speaking and overall, his personality, you might have believed him.

But alas, he was Sukuna. He loved tearing people apart – physically and mentally.

He squeezed you harder when you remained silent, quiet from the way he was analyzing you as the bones in your foot began screaming at the pressure and your blood began sliding and curling around his forearm like a snake constricting itself around him when he broke skin. You couldn’t stand how blood complimented his skin, like he was born to be a predator in all his intentions – like he was born to be murderer and shroud himself in an ominous fog for the remainder of the time he walked the Earth.

Like people were supposed to fear him for all of time (how long had he already been alive for; how long would he be alive for? He’d outlive you for sure…).

You watched his lips part again, those canines you fantasized seeming much larger from the shadows the lanterns were casting, and decided to answer him before he had another chance to try and insult you or assume you abandoned by your family.

“That’s not it,” you snapped out, watching that gleeful grin split his face at the fast way you responded and when you thumb pressed down onto the bottom knuckle of his pinky finger. It wasn’t enough pressure to break it, Sukuna’s body was practically indestructible when it came to humans and you had unfortunately witnessed him growing back a foot once when it had gotten severed in a fight (you’d never forget the way it all molded back in bone, muscles, tendons and flesh, nor the sounds it made), and continued before he had a moment to prattle off again. “My parents love me, and my mother knew I didn’t want to marry since she was arranged herself… But there’s only so much they could do anyway and they tried to keep me hidden, but…” you stopped and scowled, remembering the priestess of the village pairing you up before you had ultimately left everyone and everything behind.

After that, it was how you wandered into Sukuna’s domain, seeking a new life in a place you wouldn’t have been able to ever been found by anyone that knew you. What you didn’t expect was seeking a way of salvation in the means of someone who couldn’t quite offer it.

He was quiet for a few moments, eyes scaling across every inch of your face, possibly seeing ever blemish, pore, markings, and any imperfections as he went, before he hummed and arched an eyebrow, “And yet, you still left them. Can’t imagine how that broke their little hearts, and can’t imagine your poor little husband-to-be,” he broke into a hiss, eyes staring at you, but more-so they were looking through you and he was seeing something else entirely together, “You don’t wanna go back to a place where you’ll be living a like little placeholder doing what you’re told to do, but you come here to nearly do the same and you don’t want to leave… Why is that?”

He knew, and he just wanted to hear you say it.

You swallowed, holding his gaze steady and murmuring out the words that nearly got lost in breeze outside and the steam rising from the bath, “I’m perfectly fine here…”

You didn’t answer his second claim, too afraid of his reaction.

Sukuna abruptly freed your ankle, eyes dangerously narrowed in a heavy smolder and his tongue making itself seen again as he curled and swiped it along all his fingers to lick your blood free of him and left your leg alone to sit atop his shoulder. A breath of a dark and velvety chuckle left him, tickling at your brain and making your skin erupt into more chills at the way it vibrated through your legs and the rest of your body as he pulled free his third hand to give you his fourth while rolling his neck and facing back forward. You took his hand without a word, slowly going back to cleaning underneath his nails as you tried to process that he truly had picked you apart without even you having to tell him anything.

“So interesting. You little brat, you oughta be grateful then… If only they could see you now though.”

You didn’t have an answer to that, your lungs squeezing for you to take a breath and your heart slamming against your ribcage,  knowing damn well if your parents found out you were serving and lusting after the man everyone feared they’d be crushed you were in his clutches. However, they’d believe you didn’t come to him willingly, believe you to be hypnotized by the curse from one of his abilities, though it was far from the truth. And you were grateful, you had stayed at the palace for a long while and nothing had become of you (read: you becoming his dinner), which was why your captivation by him only seemed to grow and you wondered if Sukuna only kept you around for you to tend to his needs.

You had half a mind to say something, thinking that perhaps his little speech was of means to get you to confess on why you had lingered about for so long and never actually tried to escape like some of the other servants did, but Sukuna was Sukuna, he didn’t care about petty, little, insignificant human feelings. Part of you thought about placing your hand atop the side of his chest, spreading your fingers along the significant width of it to look for that steady beat underneath all the flesh, blood, muscle, and bone to see if his heart still beat; a silly thought of your behalf, he wouldn’t be walking if he didn’t have a heart, but you assumed it more to coax you in a metaphorical sense than physical. Your affection for the man was far beyond that of only wanting to be his bedmate, something you knew you would never get no matter what, something that was incredible foolish of you to think of as you could feel the Gods smiting you for thinking you’d ever be anything more than another human to Sukuna, and nothing more than that of a pet to him.

And for that, you kept your mouth shut, keeping your true wants of wanting to feel him in more places through your kimonos tucked away in your heart and only obliging him for whatever he wanted when he asked.

You really were pathetic.

Sukuna didn’t speak again for a while, long enough for you to finish on his last hand and move to wash his hair. The pretty pink locks were always in an arrange tangles for the most part, slicked back on his head with oil and matted with… other essences you didn’t like to think about as you were meticulous in the way you washed it. When his shoulders relaxed as your nails scratched through his scalp, you grinned behind his head in victory, spending a less than needed amount of time there since it seemed he liked attention in that spot as you freed it of more gunk. Though, wrangling another particularly hard knot free and soothing your fingers through the strands, you took notice the unease in the atmosphere; Sukuna’s biceps bunching in like coiled snake poised to strike, and the veins in his forearms and hands making themselves known in a show of his rising agitation.

He was getting annoyed.

You were ready to ask him what was wrong or you were doing something he didn’t like, stomach becoming heavy with anxiety, but he beat you to the punch with a series of words that that horrified you more than that time he had you feed him severed fingers like grapes into his reclined form and awaiting maw doused in the bits of flesh and blood that came from them.

“I’m bored now. And I’m sick of playing this little game you’ve conjured up.”

Fear struck you for a moment, a feeling of absolute terror that Sukuna had grown bored with your existence entirely and was about to dispose of you threatening to make you literally bow your head into the floor and beg for him to keep you around. You hadn’t wanted to sound so desperate for him, but (pathetically) he was all you had and you would have been telling the biggest lie if you said he wasn’t what your mind and body had been craving the moment you laid eyes on him.

The words were on your tongue, ready to plead with him to give him whatever he wanted and start up a rebuttal that if you were so interesting that it would be best if he kept you around, when the familiar sensation of his nails grazing the skin around your ankle stopped you, letting your eyes wander over the way the tip of them so deadly but gently drew a pattern around the bone of your ankle before he curled his fingers around it in a strong grip. The heat from his fingers was boiling, nearly feeling that he was searing into your skin to melt the flesh away until he could feel your bone, and you opened your mouth to say… anything, but were thrown for a loop when suddenly your vision was warped and your world bent and turned upside down.

Literally.

Sukuna tugged once and one moment you were staring at his nails scratching at your ankle and coiled his long fingers around it, then the next you were underwater.

You didn’t get a moment to even process really how it had happened (your mind quickly concluding though after you heard the splash that he had dragged you over his head – flipping you – and into the bath) or how the hot water was pricking into your face like needles, stinging and burning your skin in stabs as you gritted your teeth before you felt his hands curl under your armpits and lift you free from being underwater. Your nose was clogged from the onslaught and your eyes watery from the invasion, something you tried dastardly to rid yourself of before you faced him and let an array of words fly off your tongue if you hadn’t finally looked him in the eye after coughing and sniffing through all the water.

You were pissed, and he knew that. And it was something he was expressing extreme humor in as well.

Sukuna had that same grin on his face, gleefully taking in your face and the rest of your body that was presented to him as you only glared with about as much dignity you could’ve mustered for someone that had gotten roughly handled and drug into a bath full blood and anything else imaginable. He hoisted you up closer to him, your erratic blinks from the motion flicking stray droplets free from your eyelashes as you felt your legs stretch as wide as they could for your knees to sit onto either side of his hips and hover you over his bare lap. You didn’t dare to sit down, your nerves pricking as a voice in the back of your mind screamed from the close proximity of you two, and instead only stared of what you could of his face while awaiting for him to speak.

“You look like a drowned cat; all weak and pathetic… but I can tell you got something to say, so say it,” he goaded at you, teeth as white as ever reminding of the old folklores you had been told of beasts in the ocean water with just rows of sharp teeth that tore flesh apart so easily.

Frustration welled within you, every single insult of a name you wanted to call him sitting on your tongue sour for you to spit out. And yet, you didn’t, wanting to leave him egging you on in want for you say it to him.

And it worked.

Sukuna brought you closer, his natural musk making you dizzy while you alternated from looking at his sharp canines (that you still longed to know what it felt like to have them bite into your lip, or graze across your collarbones), and the intracity of the tree bark-like protrusion he had on the left side of his face (that you wondered to know what it would feel like against your lips if you kissed him where his cheek was to be, and hoping that he could still feel it underneath that partial mask), and holding your breath to keep from fainting in his hold from being so close.

“C’mon, say it.”

Your face was hot, not only from being dunked into the bath water, but from his dangerous nearness and you hovering over his lap in nothing but your nagajuban and him being completely bare in the water below, something you tried desperately not to let show on your face was affecting you and something you tried not to let your libido wrap around too much for your excitement to take shelter in more as well. You had half a mind to just stare at his lips, thinking perhaps that would give him the idea of what you really wanted, but with Sukuna’s face coming closer and the hold he had on your becoming tighter, you couldn’t help but to only stare at him.

You frowned, a nasty scowl deepening on your face as he continued talking.

“I know how bad you want to, you’re not as discreet as you like to believe you are. What’s the matter? Afraid of a little word? Or are you just waiting on my permission like always? Well, you have it, go on, tell me what I want to hear –”

“You’re an asshole.”

You weren’t sure if that’s what he wanted to hear, but it was the first words you thought of and the first words you got out of your mouth. A lie you would be telling if you said it didn’t feel good to call him that, but a screaming in the back of your head telling you what you had was just going to cost you dearly. All feelings left you, dread imminent for just what he had said: your bratty mouth. Your tongue was venomous, saliva bringing itself forth from your gums as you thought of ways to backtrack what you had just told him but finding nothing and leaving you drowning toxin as it seep back down your throat to settle in the bubbling acid of your stomach and constrict around your heart to leave it panging in aftershocks for what you had done. A swallow was all you could muster, blinking as innocently as you could as you awaited his reaction.

And from his expression, you had actually managed to catch him off guard… but that wasn’t always the best idea.

God, you had really done it.

Though waiting on him to bite back surprised you, as Sukuna’s lips twitched first, then his fingers tightened on you before he threw his head into his shoulder blades and laughed; full-on guffaws you had ever rarely seen the man do that shook his body and echoed throughout the room. Sukuna’s laugh bordered on one of most eerie and horrifying sounds you had ever heard, he laughed boisterous and without a care in the world, but usually whenever he laughed he did it for a purpose. A purpose in which was in his favor, like whatever was presented to him in a challenge and he knew already he’d come out on top in his victory, he would laugh.

That made you all more anxious for what was to come.

You only watched the swell of his Adam’s apple bob for a few seconds longer, his chest rising and falling with each breath as you were jostled in his hold before he stopped with a loud sigh and craned his head back forward to look at you. You tried to remain as impassive as you could, but it was hard with someone like him who could scrutinize you with a single glance, and it didn’t help either whenever he leant back into your face with another of his vibrating hums and a newfound, pleased light in his eyes you hadn’t ever had the chance to see before.

Sukuna smiled again, a third hand rising out of the water to trail a nail against your cheek as he tutted at you, “Now was that so hard? Want me to praise you for it now? Must feel good doing what you’re told and getting a reward for it…” A lethargic blink on his behalf let you watch a droplet fall off his own long eyelashes, his next words slow and with a hidden meaning that made your skin pucker into chills went you thought too hard about it, “Keep talking and I’ll give you a treat like the good girl you are.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in, flustered by his voice and annoyed by the way he was talking to you altogether. Am I a dog now? Disregarding the way your stomach fluttered with the ghost of butterflies at the way he spoke, you realized Sukuna truly was only wanting to mess with you, like he always did. It really was just that; he wanted to provoke you enough to get you to snap back at him so he could laugh and tease you as he saw fit for his entertainment. He had gotten bored with your compliant behavior and wanted to strike a nerve in you somehow, dragging you into the bath whenever his little psychological warfare didn’t work against you and winning the upper hand once he got you in.

The back of your teeth mashed together, that feeling of frustration balling back up into your chest when you thought about if that’s what he really wanted then you could give it to him. You could test how far you could go with the insults if he was allowing it, your tongue sour to scrape all the bitterness off of to get what you really wanted to say to him out in the open. Consequences be damned, if Sukuna really wanted you to keep talking, you would.

You glared at him, getting even more annoyed whenever he only seemed to grin harder, and let the ties holding back your submissive behavior snap, “Is that what this all is? You just want me to degrade you? Call you an asshole, a prick, a bastard? I could go on…” You felt confident in speaking to him, nevermind he could easily squeeze until your eyes and spine popped free of your body, but the more you spoke to Sukuna like that, the more you felt alive. Why had you not done it before knowing you could live in the end?

His lips puckered, a low whistle breaching your ears and he let another devious chuckle out as he rolled his neck, “Such nasty words for a pretty mouth, maybe I made the right choice in not cutting your tongue out…” His words did little to scare you, knowing if he had truly wanted to do it he would have the moment you caught an attitude with him. A finger pulled at your bottom lip, exposing the bottom layer of your teeth as he tapped his nail against your teeth, the clicking noise annoying you as much as he was in that moment. You took a bold move then, biting down on his finger in retaliation for putting in your mouth as he only seemed to tiredly sigh and press down on your tongue with a squint, “Have you not ever heard to not bite the hand that feeds you? Then again, you’re some lousy, village girl with no education… I shouldn’t expect much from you.”

You let go of his finger, pissed with his little comments about you that were less than a praise (or his own twisted version of a praise), and squirmed in his hold. You dug your knee into his hip when you realized you couldn’t move that much, then at a loss of anything to bite back him said what was on the tip of your mind again, “You’re annoying me. This time, I will really leave.”

A bark of laughter made you pause and huff at him, ready for his next insult as he returned to pulling at your lip, “I’ve lost count how many times you’ve bitched about that, and frankly it’s gotten on my last nerve…” His hand gripped your face again, squishing your cheeks and forcing you to look him in the eye, “You and I both know you don’t want to leave.”

You didn’t have a doubt that he could feel the warmth of your cheeks onto his fingers, fisting your own fingers into your soaked robe underneath the water’s surface as you replied, “And how would you know?”

There was a beat, the breeze outside going quiet once more as the crickets left and you were left alone with Sukuna, and you knew then you should’ve bit your tongue on that question. The ambiance took a devastating turn so quickly, the banter between you two seeming almost lighthearted and flirtatious all but diminishing, and its place something… more, something hot, and you could feel that volcanic rumble the moment Sukuna’s pupils dilated the longer he looked at you. A bead of water trailed down you’re your temple and Sukuna regarded you for a long moment, his eyes remaining unblinking and unsettling you the longer he did so, before let go of your face and trailed along your jawline, lightly scratching at your skin as he went and whispering hotly into your face.

“Because your body is saying otherwise.”

A shock went through you, a chill sliding up along your spine to tickle at your brain that froze you for the time being as you tried to fight off the look of guilt on your face. He couldn’t have known… there was no possible way… The dread filled up your gut the same time you remembered your positions, desire napping in your belly like a fat snake steadily growing in warmth as Sukuna’s hand slid down to your neck, fingers making a show to tap your jugular before squeezing your throat once more. You fought back the whine as your lower regions throbbed once more, Sukuna’s nostrils flaring out again before he hummed and dropped his gaze lower to your chest.

And stared.

Just stared, until he grinned and circled his thumb along your throat, nail pressing in and –

“Nice tits.”

You balked, mouth gaping open at his claim and looked down to see what could’ve possibly made him say something like that until you realized you were practically all but nude for him to see. Your nagajuban truly was just some flimsy material you wore underneath your kimonos, the thick fabric of those keeping your covered, but since Sukuna had… asked you to nicely to take it off and you were just in the thin fabric that was stuck to your body like a second skin drenched in water and had become see-through and your nipples were hard and poking through the cloth and he was just staring at them – !

A noise that seemed to be what he was waiting broke free of you finally, an embarrassing, girlish gasp bubbled up from your lungs whenever another hand (him having four hands was a curse) rose up and pinched at your nipple experimentally and rolled it in-between his fingers. Whenever you wiggled and arched your back as you felt the numerous twinges of pleasures shoot down towards your belly and begin to make your body uncomfortable with want and flooding with the need to be touched. Not a smart emotion to feel on your part, and seeing his insufferable face split more into amusement only cemented that fact that you knew what was coming.

“So sensitive… Make that noise again,” he purred, tickling you and enjoying watching your face twist at his touch, “The act is cute, but I’ve grown bored entertaining it… Why don’t you really tell me why your body is feeling like this?”

“I’m not sensitive,” you argued back, trying your best to bat his hand away from your stimulated nipple, but to no avail as he resorted to just palming and squeezing your breast altogether. You huffed and let him have his way for the moment, gritting your teeth as you made up an excuse, “You threw me in hot water unexpectedly, of course my skin is going to react like this.”

“Is that so?” Sukuna’s hands left their respective spots, instead both wrapping around to caress the back of your neck and the other two holding your waist steady underwater, face coming closer than before and you stopped yourself from staring pointedly at his lips, “You lie, girl.”

He titled your head back, forcing your back to arch deeper and your thighs to brush against his sides as he pushed himself to tower over you, enjoying the way you bent under his demands and were pliant in his hold when he wished. To your horror, Sukuna sniffed you, the rumbling in his chest akin to a low growl as he squeezed at the nape of your neck, teeth too straight, too white, too sharp, on display as they gleamed with his victory and mesmerized you all the same. He laughed again once, titling his head at you like a curious animal before indulging you in your worst kept secret ever known.

“I know the smell of a bitch in heat, and you reek of it.”

If you weren’t mortified before, you certainly were then. Sukuna could smell you – Sukuna could smell you. He already had seemingly heightened awareness and senses, but you didn’t think he could smell… that. Your airways were restricted, mouth gaping back open with newfound heat seeping into your entire body; your muscles sagging and bones feeling nothing but like grounded mush as you could only stare at him with the truth out in the open. Though that very piece of information had morbid curiosity and stimulating excitement fueling a deeper part in you to know just where he was going with it. A treacherous, wanton part of you hoped he was leading to where you thought he was because… the idea Sukuna wanted you like you wanted him was… exhilarating. And if he had been waiting on you to just say it or something…

You didn’t get a chance to even process it too long, for Sukuna had started speaking again the moment you let the realization spread across your expression. “Foolish girl, you didn’t think I knew? Every time you’re around me you carry the scent of it, and I thought it’d be fun to play your little coy game, but I’ve grown terribly sick of it,” his eyes widened and you wondered if the glow from his eyes was your imagination, or his intimidation tactic, “You little brat, women throw themselves to my feet constantly, did you think pretending you weren’t like them would make me favor you? Make me chase you in the end until I snapped and put you in my bed?” he paused for another moment to let his expression morph into something near frightening, eyes dilating further as he took in your form so pliant underneath him and his nails scratched harder at your neck, “It doesn’t work that way, so it’s best if you own up now and maybe I’ll consider a solution.”

Sukuna’s words didn’t necessarily deter you, in fact him defending himself like that made it seem like you had quite the opposite effect on him as he was the one who had drug you into the bath because he had gotten sick of you playing coy. He could talk all he wanted, but the more he spoke the more he exposed himself to you, and that helped you in the end to fuel certainty that Sukuna did want you at least on a level of carnality.  And if the way he was holding you and had been trying to coax you to admit that you wanted him in that same spoke for anything, you knew your efforts had not been vain.

Sukuna had kept you along with him for a reason, and you weren’t sure what that reason was, but you knew most of it was his physical attraction to you. And you had stayed for your physical, mental, and emotional attraction to him, but you both would benefit from what had been brewing between you two like a long, overdue volcano ready to erupt.

You didn’t flinch in his grasp, instead eyeing him gently before letting your eyelashes droop and pushing your shoulders back, mentally grinning in victory when one eye slid down to stare at your breasts again. “I –” No, try something else. “Maybe I did, but it seems like it’s worked out in the end, hasn’t it?”

Sukuna gauged you from a long moment before his face split out into wider grin, another short laugh he gave straight into your face as you tried to ignore the remnants of skin in his teeth and instead focus on that treacherous long tongue. “So, what is it then? You want me to fuck your brains out until you can’t remember your own name? Or you wanna be my little whore?” A finger returned to pull at your bottom lip, the tension in the room far greater than the heat as he had murmured those words in the same tone from before while you desperately tried to keep yourself poised to not unravel at the seams.

A sigh threatened to leave you when images flashed through your mind at his inquiries, both making you anxious for what was to come to leave your stomach queasy as well as your body responding greatly to the ideas. You didn’t have to hide it anymore as you felt yourself beg from the pleasure in the form of your thighs growing hot and lower abdomen tightening up, bravely bringing a hand up to grab his finger and place on it your tongue, his nail scratching you there as you slid the appendage along to let your saliva coat his fingertip down to his second knuckle before closing your lips around it in a tease and popping it out of your mouth. He only watched with an amused expression, though the obsidian that was his pupils told you a much different story to how he was feeling underneath that mask.

It was nearly like you were in the caged clutches of a beast, ready to tear into your flesh be it by a pure physical sense or just alone sexually. Sukuna’s claws were controlled and ready, the muscles in him ready to snap from being so long coiled back like that of an agitated snake and he was ready to reach out into you to have his way that had been a long time coming. Moreover, it had been only a matter of time before you unraveled free from your fine silk hold and tumbled down below into the tattered seams of purity confined within the branches of Sukuna’s depraved world, and you lost yourself completely to whatever he was offering.

There was no turning back, and you let that be known as you looked him dead-set in the face.

“If I said both?”

Sukuna didn’t miss a beat. “Then you are a fool… But,” he relinquished all hold on you, returning back to recline on the bath’s edge with two pairs of arms splayed atop the rim and leaving you to hold yourself up by sitting on his spread thighs. You watched the shadows from the flickering fire inside the lanterns dance across his sharp jawline and daunting cheekbone, making him look all the more dangerous and unreal as he tilted his chin up and looked down at you figuratively, a challenge present in those rose-colored eyes that fueled the burning in your gut. “I’m never one to turn down such a desperate whore, though,” he paused to look at his nails, giving off the indication he was bored, “I’m also not some commoner. You seem much more inclined for this, so why don’t go ahead and show me – or yet, show me and tell me how much you want me.”

He finished off by circling a long finger along the surface of the water, giving you a long look from the side of his eye, eyelashes sitting pretty and brushing along his skin as he blinked languidly at you awaiting to see your reaction. You didn’t necessarily have one, swallowing as you understood that Sukuna was punishing you in his own way by not touching you and making you act on the progression of what was to come, and while you were nervous about the idea (especially when you were sitting on his thighs so close to him and he always had at least one eye on you) you couldn’t help not to feel that candle light of confidence burn inside of you. He was obviously affected by your body, and if you showed more of your body…

You could feel the magma inside stir; bubbling out of control and rising to its hottest temperature before it exploded free of its confined space the moment your decision was made. It was scalding as it poured into your skin, nearly feeling like all the walls holding your façade up were melting away your flesh and letting Sukuna see what rested beneath all the muscle and bone. He had burrowed himself deep even if he didn’t know it, pulling your bones apart and snapping to make himself fit within the skeletal cage surrounding your heart as he only dug deeper and found the garden that laid your soul. And if your soul and mind had been bared to the dark trenches of Sukuna’s grasp, all that was left was show him all of you.

With a long, inward sigh, you lifted your hands up, undoing the sash of your nagajuban in finality. You had dropped your gaze down to watch your hands move instead of looking at him, knowing that his eyes would have pinned you in your place and you wouldn’t have able to even follow through. However, Sukuna was never one to not give his input (even when it wasn’t needed nor wanted), and from the moment you began to slide your robe down to bare your shoulders for him, he spoke.

“Not so modest now, are we? Never thought I’d see the day you’re not all covered up in those shitty kimonos…”

You returned your glare to him as you slid one arm out from a sleeve, face too hot and body beginning prickle from the weight of his stare. “You got me these shitty kimonos.”

He had the gall to look smug. “I did, perhaps I should stop though. That way I can see you walk around like this with your tits out.”

You didn’t have an answer to that, returning to undressing yourself with your lip caught between your teeth tightly as you pulled your other arm free and opened the remainder of your robe. You weren’t sure what you were expecting (all four of his eyes widening at the sight of your nude body? Him suddenly dropping that demeanor and launching himself at you? A little bit of that purr he did with his voice whenever he was cooing at you in a mock praise, but that time he was telling you that you were a work of art? Hardly.), letting your nagajuban float behind you in the bath while feeling free and desirable being naked, but Sukuna just sitting back and staring at you with the most uninterested and sleepy look on his face was not it.

You swallowed and glanced around, eyes falling on the bright moon for a moment before returning back to him, pushing your shoulders back to accentuated your chest in hopes that he would do something. He did not however, instead only raising another eyebrow and looking like he’d rather be anywhere else but there with you. It made you annoyed; there he was one moment talking about how nice your tits were and touching them, then the next he was looking ready to curl up his lip at the sight of your bare body…

He was the most difficult person in the world.

“What’re you doing?” he eventually asked, tapping a finger against the rim of the tub and sounding exhausted.  

You squirmed on his thighs, slightly feeling more and more self-conscious the more he just sat there with that stupid on his face, and rose your arms to cover your breasts, “You told me to show you and tell you…”

Sukuna scratched his cheek, yawning before he inspected his nails once more and smacking his lips, “All you did was show your body; already seen it. I was expecting a little more considering how pathetically desperate you look and smell.” You weren’t sure if you’d ever get used to him only using one eye to look at you while the others maintained preoccupied, it was always going to be unnerving on how Sukuna could multitask on an inhumane level, but it was downright terrifying at times knowing that he could always see what you were doing regardless of where you may have been.

The hairs on the back of your neck rose. Your hackles raising with the desire to mouth off to him for his petty behavior. He had you naked sitting on his lap and he still wanted to toy with you, though you supposed he had a point since he had already fondled your tits and saw your body through the waterlogged fabric of your robe, and you had been expecting too much whenever you stripped yourself free. You supposed that you could show him more that you wanted him, but you weren’t too keen on begging like you knew his sick mind wanted, ready to gloat and degrade you the moment you arched your back for him and moaned. And to be honest, you were getting anxious and more excited the longer you two danced around the inevitable.

Only a fleeting pass of a multicolored imagination could let you guess how he was feeling.

Without verbally answering him, you decided to push aside your uncertainties for the time being to pursue what you wanted. He had given you the go, but while you may have not trusted your voice to provide the words for it, you certainly could convey your desire through pressing your body to his and preforming such actions. Luckily he kept his gaze on his nails, allowing you to scoot forward on your knees to up his thighs, growing closer and closer until you hit the wall behind him and were as close to Sukuna as you had ever been. He regarded you for a quick moment – a fast glance down towards your body you would’ve missed if you hadn’t been so close to him – before pretending to play disinterested again. You inwardly huffed, leaning closer to sit your ass completely along his crotch with a smooth roll –

You paused. That – Your eyes widened. It can’t be…

Sukuna only grinned. It is.

Despite the temperature of the water, the body part was the hottest thing in the room, sitting up high and proud against your belly and stretching up past your naval and scalding at the tip of. The sheer length of it made you nervous (not something you hadn’t thought given Sukuna’s towering height), but the feeling of it heavy against your flesh made you all the more apprehensive for what was to come. Genuinely, how were you going to get it to fit… and considering your ‘circumstance’, you knew it wouldn’t be an easy process.

A splash of water to your face brought your attention back from zoning out on a spot of Sukuna’s ear, looking back into the smug expression growing with glee when he noticed the worried look painted completely across your face. “What’s the matter? Surely you’re not backing out… after all that I would think you had more courage than to just run away with your tail tucked between your legs,” he tipped his chin down again, looking at you from a frightening angle, “You’re not going to disappoint me, are you?”

His words brought you free of whatever had you caged back, your lust blooming blue within the lava guiding you through to pursue what you wanted instead of letting your worries take over. You grew bold and furrowed your eyebrows, placing your hands atop his shoulder with your nails digging in and pressing yourself closer to his face, “No, I just need… adjustment.” You hoped he understood that. And you hoped he wasn’t going to just shove his cock in you without any more touching (no matter how tempting that sounded to you).

You expected a condescending laugh, his body shaking from how hard he did, or perhaps a scoff, but you didn’t expect the eye roll or the long sigh expanding his chest as the two arms underwater clutched at your hips, the hold possessively strong and his nails stinging into your flesh whilst slightly lifting you up from him without so much of an effort. “I guess we have to do this the old-fashioned way… But let it be known I’m only doing this so I can fit, I don’t need nor want you squirming and crying about how it hurts or doesn’t fit. Shit gets on my nerves…” he mumbled out that last bit as he maneuvered you to his liking, scooting you closer and sitting you down as his cock slid up between your ass and your stomach slid along the hard muscles of his own. His skin was still burning you, your skin puckered from his proximity and body humming with arousal.

Whenever Sukuna tapped a finger onto your hips in what you thought was an impatient gesture, you spoke, “What do you –”

You started whenever a fast sequence of pleasure darted down into your legs, your ankles rolling as it spread up back to your brain before manifesting completely atop your sensitive clit. A noise that was a cross between a gasp and squeal escaped you the moment you felt the flexible appendage alike to a tongue lap along between the parts of your pussy, wriggling along with the fat of it before the tip swirled your clit in agonizing circles. Your thighs shook as they fought to close, yet Sukuna’s thicker thighs kept them securely open atop his lap to keep whatever he was doing to you happening to his liking. You didn’t have a chance to think clearly or even ask what it was he was doing to you (or what body part that was), and all thought completely left you the moment that slick appendage parted your cunt apart with the tip and twisted its way into your absolutely drenched hole, rendering you the mess he knew you would become in doing so.

Whenever you gasped and threw your head back, Sukuna hummed with pure amusement.

“Mmm, you taste as good as you smell. And you’re absolutely soaked, you little slut,” he squeezed your hips and coaxed you to move them forward, “Oh? Don’t be so shy now, this is what you asked for so you might as well take what you can.” Sukuna continued to only sit back and watch you, propping his cheek into a close fist as took in every single expression that crossed across your face with only a look of mild amusement.

It was the mouth on his stomach you learned, the part seeming to have a mind of its own you thought on occasions if the numerous times you had spied it smiling at you said anything. The fact he could taste whatever was placed upon its tastebuds told you a lot, and if it wasn’t the fact that his tongue was currently fucking you and he could taste how your insides were it would’ve grossed you out. Sukuna chuckled as he watched your face twist into pleasure, that inhumanly long tongue lashing out across your inside in rough strokes as it probed you until you cried out loud enough to wonder if any of the other servants in palace could hear you.

The tongue mapped out your pussy in every which way it could to gather as much of your slick as he could to lather it upon his tastebuds. Your thighs began harshly trembling then, as you had locked them around his own while he slid his hands back onto your waist to keep seated nicely onto his abdomen. Your eyes rolled, your hips desperately trying to rock harder against him for his tongue to push deeper into your cunt and for your clit to hit in just the right spot along his flexed abdominal muscle. Your hands on his shoulders had moved into fists to anchor yourself as you began to push and pull as much as you could for how your mind was beginning to spin into dizziness and your legs were beginning grow weaker as the seconds passed both of you.

Sukuna only watched you with an impassive expression, looking like he could have been anywhere but there in that bath with you as you rode on his tongue. Your body was quivering, pulse accelerating as you felt yourself begin to slip down onto the slope to careen yourself down into a climax, and the noises passing through your lips by then were full-blown moans and you could take a very little note to the way Sukuna’s fingers were beginning to harshly dig into your flesh. It was then you knew it wasn’t enough, you needed Sukuna do completely dominate you; you needed Sukuna’s hands all over you and to touch every single part of your body to taint it with his own version of Hell. You were the lamb to his slaughter, you were the virgin offering themself up, and you needed to reject the Gods and humanity for your desire for the Devil in front of you.

You lifted yourself up the same time you uncurled a fist, coming down on his tongue as it swiped along the innermost part of you and tickled your spine. You clenched around his tongue and got delight in a slight pinch coming to his brow, bravely twirling a strand of pretty pink hair around your index finger as you moaned for him again. “Sukuna.”

His mouth twitched as he narrowed his eyes at you, all the while keeping your expression imploring in hopes he got the message. You were sure he did if the flicker of amusement glinted in his eyes for a brief second told you anything, but he wasn’t so easy to win over. Sukuna hummed and rose the one hand he wasn’t using to your face, dragging a nail along your jawline before tracing your lips, “If you want something, address me properly.” He spoke so calmly it infuriated you, his ability to remain unphased by your actions doing nothing for your confidence and making you regret even wanting to ask for it in the first place.

A shaky breath left you whenever you felt your pussy tremble around that tongue, each precise lick it gave to the inside of your cunt tickling and making you grasp for the long-awaited release you knew you were on the cusp for, the inside of your lower abdomen beginning to feel as if it was in a blazing fire from each fervent motion of his mouth and each rolling of your hips did to let his muscle grind along your tingling clit. The amount of loud moans he was pulling out of you was downright sinful, your grinding picking up as you tugged his hair hard enough to push his head back a fraction and angle your hips up to slide right along his body on the perfect spot atop your clit. A rumble in his chest made you clench hard around his tongue while your eyes fluttered shut when the vibration of it expanded out to reach the inside of you, a myriad of nerves tingling up towards your clit as your fingers tugged harsher onto his hair the moment you realized he wasn’t pushing you off.

“Please,” you whined, completely forgoing his order for you to address him as you should, “touch me.”

“Please, what?” he hissed while squeezing your cheeks, a fine edge to his voice that excited you more than anything. He was getting impatient.

Anxiety twisted its way onto your face, the word like a scorching coal on the tip of your tongue when you remembered what he liked to be called, and you shifted on his lap once more before parting your lips for the candied beg to finally leave your lips and grace his ears and ego.

“Please… Master.”

The smile that split his face into two should have frightened you, the way his eyes seemed to glow and widened should have made you more anxious, and the way he laughed should have made you think twice about what you getting into. However, none of that happened, not when Sukuna rewarded you for your submissive behavior and had you wriggling on his tongue once more when he moved both hands above the water to splay his fingers along your chest.

“Such a good girl, how adorable you sound like that,” he cooed, slowly and heavily dragging his searing palms down to your breasts as you arched further for him, “I suppose you earned it for obeying me…”

It was but a brief moment as the tongue inside of you stilled, your eyes reopening to see what caused him to stop until you felt the palms of his hands shift, the flesh atop them seemingly tearing itself open before warm breath misted across your aching nipples and teeth bit into them and tugged. You squealed and bucked atop his lap, another two tongues sweeping across your tits and his fingers creasing into your flesh he toyed with the flesh and rolled them around in his hands, bouncing with them with a laugh when he realized how much it did to you. Your anxiety dissipated the moment your body was flooded with more pleasure; that heat inside stoking itself in circles around your brain, heart and stomach as it grew and grew the more Sukuna touched you.

Your brain was pure liquid at that moment, only thinking of how fucking good it felt to have him tongue-deep into your pussy and his hands fondling your tits. You rolled your shoulders back and began scratching at his nape as you nearly started to create waves in the pool with how harsh you were riding atop him when the weight in your lower abdomen grew larger and harder, and your thighs were beginning to shake once as pressure pressed harder onto your sensitive clit.

Your muscles felt practically useless and the noises you were producing growing louder as his enthusiasm grew tenfold when his hold on your waist doubled down to almost bruising and you got to watch his nostrils flare at your behavior. You already knew Sukuna had been aroused just as much as you were from the thoughts of lust, and the thought sent a hard curl downwards to where your anticipated release grew in crescendo of wave tides.

You were close.

And Sukuna knew that. With a cackle he abruptly withdrew his tongue from inside of you, leaving you whining at the loss before he pulled you back a fraction and let it return to sitting atop your clit. One hand let go of your waist, a finger placed under your chin as he tipped your face to look back into his with half-lidded eyes, “You’re having so much fun you’re forgetting me. Though you’re dripping on me as we speak, I wonder just how much your cunt can take…”

You blinked as he removed his finger, holding up his hand in front of your face with the dorsal side facing you as you watched in horror and amazement as Sukuna’s nails shrunk. Gone were the talons you could still feel present on your waist and breast, instead on that hand was short, blunt nails, still dark in color as he flexed them and curled all but his index and middle finger down and pressed them against your sternum. Sukuna began a slow descent down your body, a cackle of electricity leaving his fingertips as he went that you could only assume was his energy, sliding down sensually past your naval, down in the curls atop your pussy, before they flicked into your folds. You braced yourself in that moment, Sukuna’s thick fingers parting your cunt open as he began to press his index in first.

Holding your breath you winced at the sting, the tongue from his abdomen already lubed with salvia and not as thick, as he watched your face carefully. When he slid in his finger completely in and took notice of the way you jerked and gasped at the new intrusion, you got the rare instance to see a look of surprise cross his face before it was completely taken over by the widest grin and a horrifying new purpose in his eyes.

Guess the cat was out of the bag.

“Virgin,” he hissed, a cackle born free from his twisted mind breathing out into your face as he pushed another finger inside of you and curled them hard. “Oh, you… You’re a delight.”

You whined at the sting of the stretch and his words, rolling your hips harder and more frequently against the tongue his abdomen had produced so that it lapped at your clit faster and turned the uncomfortable sting back into that saccharine pleasure from before. Sukuna wasn’t too keen to let it go however, slamming his fingers harder up into you and stroking them deliberately along your insides until they molded to him as all the while the mouths he had conjured up on his hands sucked and bit at your tits greedily the more your movements became desperate for a release. To which you knew then wouldn’t be long given the amount of stimulation you were receiving from the most sensitive regions of your body.

Sukuna seemingly found your virginity arousing to him, the hand that had been squeezing your hip darting up to grab your throat in a fast and hard squeeze, and one of your hands rising to curl fingers around his wrist as your airway was suddenly restricted for the time being. The mouths on your nipples bit down harder and rolled your skin between the teeth, and the extra tongue on his abdomen jabbing at your throbbing clit grew faster as you fought to gasp between his squeezing fingers and a wave of lightheadedness. It was not unwelcome however, arching your back as your eyes rolled whenever his fingers tickled the inside of you in lethargic bouts, and you could feel the ball in your stomach began to unravel in the appearance of your nirvana.

“Giving your virginity to me? You really shouldn’t have,” he snarled again, choking you harder after briefly letting up to hear you take a weak breath, “Take heed, brat, once you let me in, there’s no getting me out.” He laughed again whenever he watched your expression twist up, the look similar perhaps to those he had seen before underneath him, and picked up the speed of all his motions with a too wide grin, “Seems your pussy can’t take too much, are you really about to cum so soon?”

You were, you really were, but you were trying your best to fight it off so that he didn’t win so soon. However, staying quiet was not in your favor, a hiss leaving the man underneath you when you seemingly ignored him in favor of rocking your hips against his tongue and pushing his fingers deeper into your pussy. That simply wouldn’t do for him.

One mouth let go of a breast, allowing Sukuna to slap your tit once – twice before pinching your nipple even harder than he had before and slowing his fingers down at your behavior. “I asked you a question, you’d do well to answer me before I leave you to your own hands.”

You arched dangerously in his lap and scratched down his chest, all the sensations leaving your mind completely discombobulated as you babbled out whatever came to mind first, “I can take it – please.”

Sukuna tutted at you, leaning forward to press his hot cheek to yours, “I don’t know if you can… My fingers feel a lot different than your own, huh?” His finger spread themselves apart inside of you, and you thanked anything and everything that you couldn’t hear the obscene squishing you knew it was making in the water below you. “You thought I didn’t know? Walking up to me with your fingers smelling like your pussy, here I thought you were just being a little whore and teasing me… You just couldn’t help yourself.” His voice was hot against your skin, his tongue falling out of his mouth to lick a trail from your jawline up to your ear where he bit at it before whispering almost sugary-like in your ear, “Tell me, how many times have you fucked your own fingers to the thought of me?”

His words made you clamp around his fingers, all the memories of the nights you spent with your fingers inside of yourself those nights you spied Sukuna with another and could hear them all the while you imagined it was you he had pressed down into his bed completely ruining. Him knowing that you had touched yourself somehow still embarrassed you despite what you two were doing, but it didn’t deter you to not answering when you knew he could take away his own if you didn’t give him what he wanted.

“So much –” you panted, scrambling to hold onto his shoulders again whenever he rewarded you with a smooth lick along your clit and a curl against the wall of your plush cunt, “I always touch myself to the thought of you, Master.” Perhaps that was laying it on a little too thick, but you couldn’t find the means to care whenever it appeased him.

A low, ‘Hmm’ tickled you, Sukuna moving his face directly back into yours to let his nose and lips skim along your own, “Oh? I’m flattered...” he blinked languidly at you, a hint of a smirk on his lips as he watched you come undone atop him, “How many times did you cum?”

Your head was spinning, body feeling hot and the nerves inside of you tingling.

You clawed at his shoulders and shook your head when you felt the quivering of your legs increase, “I… I’m so close, please –" you broke yourself off with another whimper as the only answer he gave to that was to pull you impossibly closer, the mouths on his hands biting at you hard enough to bleed before licking up any stray dollops in a squeeze and let his tongue rub away at your swollen clit in fast tight circles.

“’Please’,” he mimicked your moan, snickering at your expression and releasing your throat to return to squeezing your waist, “How many times have you cum to the thought of me?”

You moaned his name again in a wail, your eyebrows furrowing with sweat beginning to line your brow as the combined factor of his fingers stretching and curling in side of you, his tongue rubbing along your clit and your grinding was nearly too much for you to bear. That one particular feeling was back in your lower abdomen; the weighted sense far different from the usual building orgasms you got. It was a pressure in your cunt that felt as if you couldn’t ignore and you needed to rid of it to get the tension out of you. Another moan passed your lips as you felt your mind and body begin to spiral into euphoria; you knew exactly what it was.

“Each time… All of them – ” you croaked off from trying to warn him into another high-pitched whimper whenever he dug his sharp nails into your side and pushed his fingers farther and faster into your pussy. God, he knew. He fucking knew it was coming and was trying his best to ease it out of you.

The thought had you unraveling at a devastating pace, your eyes rolling back into your head as Sukuna’s tongue slithered out of his mouth and his hot breath sifted across your face before he was licking the sweat off of you. He made his way down into your neck then, his smile pressed into your flesh there before he bit you. You cried out and it should have hurt you, but the pain and fear was far gone to feel with how Sukuna was treating your body. Wonderful near orgasmic heat born of pleasure radiated out of the bite in a humming electricity, your eyes staring into the ceiling almost sightless as everything spun out of control and became too hot for you to handle. The ball in your lower abdomen was stretching to its limit, your pussy clenching and unclenching as you felt it all began to descent into ecstasy the more he pleasured your body.

You whimpered whenever he bit particularly deeper, and Sukuna huffed into your neck, his lips beginning to move against your skin as he sucked at you and pushed his fingers as deep as they would go into your cunt. You arched harder against him in pure ravishment, your forms perhaps looking like an ink painting placed along on sacred scroll telling the tale of the Devil entrancing himself in a human woman, and you found his hair again tugging, his snarling against you and the added pleasure from all his body parts doubling down letting you know he quite liked it.

You were spiraling, his tongue dipping into your flesh to wiggle around the same his fingers pressed up against your cervix –

It’s right there, right there, right there, ther – Fuck!

“Sukuna – ”

Your hips rolled faster, harder.

He growled, loud.

Your frontal lobe completely morphed and only focused on him; just Sukuna, Sukuna, Sukuna as your back arched in a near gruesome backbend and your fingers knotted into his hair more. Another loud groan vibrated your entire being and your thighs blazed and tingled as they began to roughly shake with another obscene moan falling out your mouth. The pressure in you was too large to ignore then, spine tightening as you sought relief for it and when Sukuna’s tongue returned to rubbing harsh circles into your clit and his fingers pushed and curled, pushed curled, push and curled, push and curled – and your eyes rolled back – and just fuck it was right there, you were almost there – !

Everything abruptly stopped the moment Sukuna wrenched his mouth away from your neck, drawing a near mournful cry from you as all pleasure left your body when he pulled free his fingers and tongue away from your pussy as well. He sat back against the wall of the Onsen with a grunt, the orange lighting making your blood smeared along his face look daunting as he brought up the fingers that had been inside of you and licked them clean along with your leftover blood. You remained seated on his lap, body unsatisfied and heartbeat thunderous in your head befuddled from his behavior (and rather ticked off he conned you out of an orgasm), watching him be annoying as he sucked his free fingers of your juices with the most obscene noises you had ever heard come out of the man. He popped his fingers out with a grin, a dazed look in eyes as one rolled over to look at you.

“Sweet,” Sukuna sighed, smacking his lips obnoxiously and raising his arms up in a stretch, “Close your mouth, you look stupid gaping like that… Honestly, what were you expecting? You didn’t tell me you wanted to cum, so how was I supposed to know? I only pulled away because I didn’t want your puny ass fainting on me.”

You hated him (you didn’t), and you wriggled on his lap as the evidence of your uncared for arousal became evident despite the bath water. Sukuna regarded you with another eyebrow raise, watching you curiously as you lifted yourself up on shaky knees and meaningfully dug your nails into his shoulders as you readjusted yourself until his cock was placed back in front of you intimidatingly standing against your abdomen. Glancing at it through the water was enough to make you anxious again, spying the same black ink circled around the base of it and the reddened tip leaking from substance, and you had to swallow down the nervousness making itself known in your stomach when you took in just how far up it sized against you, and how thick it was enough to completely stretch you apart and mold your insides to accommodate you. And you how much you knew it would completely ruin you.

It shouldn’t have aroused you as much as it did.

“Need something?” Sukuna’s voice purred out way too close to your face, your eyes fervently moving back up to his as you were caught blatantly gazing down at his cock. He looked smug, cheek propped up by his fist again as he had relaxed back, yet the painted emotion present his eyes nearly caused you to flinch back. Normally Sukuna looked as bored as he could be or humored about something he found funny, but being so close to him let you see the maelstrom of emotions that remained hidden within them. The lust was nearly able to be touched, to reach your hand into his world and take hold of the vines that would leave you littered with lashes in your skin but would do you good in the end to get through the precarious path.

It was enough to remind you of the throbbing in your neck and in your ankle from his rough treatment, enough to remind you of the light scratches on your waist, enough to remind you of the soreness present in your cunt, and enough to remind you of white-hot pangs of desire bubbling up behind your naval unsated. And it was enough to guide you through what you sought after for so long.

A sharp pinch and twist to your nipple brought your attention back to him, the eyes the same color as the strawberries you had seen growing in the mountains boring so intently into your own you had no choice to even try and pull away. He nearly acted like a bratty, pouting boy prodding and tugging at you to get your attention, but you kept that particular piece of information to yourself since you also did the same to get his attention.

Sukuna rose an eyebrow, “Well? Are you just going to stare at me or are you gonna tell me?”

His thighs flexing beneath you and his cock twitching against your stomach sent your mind into a frenzy, the vast urge to stop beating around the bush like you two had been doing winning out in the end as your impatience (and Sukuna’s, you were sure) had grown to its head. The lava inside was spilling out of the volcano, pouring out in a slow roll as the earth beneath it fell apart in the guise of your control and the world was doused in a glowing, fiery inferno that could only be quelled with the union of Sukuna’s own snake-bitten lust.

You fixed your expression into something of innocence, your face warm for what you were going to say and your resolve all but crumbled into diamond-filled dust whenever Sukuna looked upon you. “I prefer to just show you.”

A long finger tapped against his temple, his eyelashes heavy as he slowly blinked and murmured so velvety in made your thighs clench, “Then by all means, show me. Getting a little dry over here.”

(You could’ve done without the side comments.)

Boldly, you pushed yourself up again, letting a hand silkily glide down his chest to trace the tattoos until you got to his abdomen and made a point to individual touch each grooved muscle there. Sukuna regarded you with interest, and grinned whenever you skimmed fingers against the mouth atop his stomach and let the tongue hidden beneath lick at your fingers. You only kept them there for a brief moment, sliding down past the pubic hair before you got to the heat of his cock. Sukuna remained looking disinterested however, but your curiosity got the better on you as you curled your fingers around the sacred skin and gave it an experimental squeeze to test a reaction.

It was in your favor as you duly noted his chest hitch, but otherwise his expression stayed the same.

“Don’t bite off more than you can chew, brat,” he warned, a hiss underlined in his voice letting you know his composure might’ve been for a show.

You bit your tongue to keep a nasty rebuttal from flying out of your mouth, instead leveling him with a half-hearted glare as you traced your finger around one of the tattoos along his base, “I can take it,” you argued back, watching his mouth fall into a thin line as his chin down and he glared at you from under his brow. His expression worried you for a moment, ready to just tell him he could do whatever he wanted as the magnitude of his glare reminded you of the day a pack of sorcerers made the grave mistake in trying to ambush him and it ended in a massacre, but his voice so hauntingly calm and quiet soothing your ears made you buck up nearly, the frequency of so like icy breath blowing across your neck and tickling you.

“Then take it. Go ahead, sit on my cock. I don’t want to see a single inch of me out you either, let me finally see what you look like with your pussy split apart by my cock.”

Sukuna didn’t offer you anymore words after that (and you tried desperately not to think on what he meant by ‘finally’), and while you were mentally scrambling over the way the words twisted your stomach and warmed your ears when you took in his relaxed position. From the way he was still just sitting there looking like a twisted, horrific version of a God with his cheek propped up by his fist and a lazy expression on his face like a panther, you realized he wasn’t going to do anything to help you further, sacrificing you to the clutches of desire to fend for yourself. You knew Sukuna was a man who was dominant through and through, his mere existence called for the submissive behavior of those below him, but you didn’t think he’d be one to let you do as you pleased when it came to sex.

Or, he was toying with you again, wanting until you said what he wanted to hear before he would finally lift a finger again and give you what you both wanted. Sukuna was capricious, his mood swings terrifying, so the little haughty, bratty act he was playing with you was him playing your own game as you did with him. You should’ve expected it really, playing a game with him was dangerous and anyone rarely came out the winner from his conniving ways, and with a sigh you accepted your destiny for carnality, biting your lip as you decided you nor him wanted to wait any longer while you pushed yourself up farther to let swollen tip of him bump across your clit.

Of course, you were still horribly anxious, never having your body breached in that way and with Sukuna’s large structure (were all dicks that big? Surely not, Sukuna was just big in general) you knew you’d be in for a difficult time. He only watched you as you moved him to your opening, your hands guiding him and you as you went and bracing yourself for inevitable. With a heavy inhale you began to push yourself down onto his cock, holding back a noise of complaint whenever his thick, blunt tip already began to stretch you far more than his fingers had done and you could already feel the sting present. While you had prep from him and the water from the bath had wet his cock some, it seemed still not enough as it was rough sinking down onto him in a torturous pace from the sheer length and width of him.

The pressure was painful you would admit, your insides nearly feeling like they were being intruded in the worst way possible as you slid down onto him centimeters at a time. It was a few moments of grimacing and holding back a whine while your other hand scratched at his shoulder before you got his bulbous tip in, a sigh leaving you as perhaps that way have been the worst part due to the shape of his cock but was quickly replaced with a choked squeal whenever Sukuna suddenly lifted his hips up and forced another inch of himself inside of your pussy.

“Oops,” he snickered, “Had to stretch a bit.” And without so much of another explanation reached a hand forward to pinch and play with your swollen nipple again between two fingers.

You gritted your teeth, a hiss leaving through the cracks of them as you let go of his cock and instead kept both hands atop his shoulders as continued your pursuit down. Your cunt was throbbing by then through the sting of pain, the stretch of his cock nearly making your eyes roll back as the feeling became a blurred line between just pure pain and unbridled ecstasy. Nevertheless, you were no quitter, squinting through your hazy vision to watch him amuse himself with flicking and twisting your nipple around as you continued on down to fully sit his hulking cock inside of you.

Your pussy ached and clenched as you pulled him into you, inch by inch you sinking down onto him, biting your cheek and practically holding your breath the entire time as it was a few more minutes before the entire brute of him was pushed inside, a choked gasp falling from your lips as you felt your walls stretch, constrict and throb once you got him where you wanted him. An electric shock spread throughout you whenever his cock seemingly pushed your innards apart to accommodate him, a dizzying sense fogging your mind at the completely full feeling you got just from sitting on his cock. He felt… amazing, nearly feeling like he breaching up past into your guts as the idea made you sway slightly and dreamily sigh when you began to feel your clit and cunt pulse at the mere entrance of him.

You shuddered whenever Sukuna made a rumbling noise underneath you the same time you flinched when you sat your ass onto his thighs, another choked sigh leaving you as felt you the muscles of your pussy contract and flutter around the new welcomed intrusion. You wiggled a bit before sighing in content and from how fucking good it felt having his hot arousal inside of you once and for all and how full you felt with him inside of you, before you arched your back again and sighed in complete bliss whenever the discomfort seemed to finally wane a fraction.

Sukuna switched from pinching your nipple to squeezing it, another mouth hand forming as it licked along your flesh in appease your efforts and reward you for taking all of his cock. He hummed in approval, “Look at that, never one to not back down, are you? You look good stuffed by my cock, perhaps the best you’ve ever looked.”

Overran by the fog clouding your mind and his words sending you into a state of abandonment, you rolled your hips once in a pivot, pulling him inches out of you before rolling back down until he bottomed out in you with a soft moan escaping your lips. You repeated the action when you realized how good it felt, discomfort leaving you and your throat filling up with a multitude of sounds as your brain only focused on the pleasurable sensations you were receiving from your cunt. Becoming easier to slide due to the amount of slick you were producing to coat him and your insides, you tuned in the way you felt each engorged vein rub across your walls, your skin puckering in chills as you continued rock up and down, up and down, up and down until you felt your body nearly melting from the attention.

Underneath you, Sukuna whistled, letting the mouth on his hand suck at your nipple harder as another arm rose for him to splay his entire hand across your stomach, pressing down with intent to feel his own cock inside of you and grinning whenever you whined and constricted up around him from the pressure. “You’re tight. Feels good, doesn’t it?” he cooed at you, pulling at your nipple and lidding his eyes, “Tell me how good it feels.”

His voice made you want to curl in on yourself, hide away from him as the tone and assumption behind it made you embarrassed. However, there was no hiding from Sukuna then, slowly sliding about atop of him easy enough to not let the water splash too far out of the tub. “It feels so good,” you awkwardly started, gaining momentum as you found your voice better, “More than I could dream of.”

“’Dream’? How adorable.” The airy chuckle he gave reverberated throughout the room, the two hands below the water grasping your hips again as he flexed his fingers and secured you in a firm grip, another strange expression on his face as he leant back far enough to watch you rock on him, “Go ahead then, fulfill your little fantasy, I won’t bite.”

(“Unless you want me to.”)

He didn’t have to tell you twice.

With your clit and cunt throbbing and feeling him pushing against your walls so hot and insistently, you began to move your hips rhythmically against his, the stretch exquisite and your brain slowly shutting down any other thought that wasn’t Sukuna. You could already feel your body beginning to hum in delight from each way his cock slid along inside of your pussy, speeding up a bit as you watched his expression remain impassive, teasingly letting the mouth on his hand suck greedily as your nipple as he only watched you ride him. You could feel him purr practically whenever little, meek whimpers began flowing out of you, your rocking speeding up a fraction when it got easier with time.

Though with time, you realized the grinding wasn’t enough.

You lifted yourself up off of him, lethargically pulling him out of you and the slow slide of his girth making you grip him harder while biting your lip to keep from whining out. Once he was back out and his tip kissed your folds, his nails dug into your body for a brief moment (a break in his composure, you could argue) before you buried him back inside of you at the same pace, yet that time the stretch was tighter as you clenched up to get a better feel of his heat. The action of you pushing him back up into the hilt of you let a breathless moan fall out of you and hum from him, you tossing your head back once more with your eyes fluttering while the mouth on his hand kissed along your breasts.

You resorted to bouncing on his cock then, the feeling much better than that slow wind-up you had been doing as the water below you two began to slosh with your movements. Albeit the bouncing was better, you still couldn’t find that tangible spark from before, leaning forward as you didn’t trust your stability anymore as you threw your arms around his neck and pressed your tits into his chest. You breathed in Sukuna’s scent as you felt a hand slide to your lower back to follow the dip it made whenever your hips rolled, hoping that perhaps more contact with him would help you reach that level of euphoria you had been feeling from before, but alas you still couldn’t find the means of it. And with Sukuna only letting you use him and not making movements below to help, it wasn’t what you wanted.

It wasn’t enough. Your movements weren’t enough to get yourself off and they weren’t enough to get Sukuna off either. The slow way you were riding him told the tale of your inexperience, and Sukuna knew you wouldn’t be able to take the gentle coaxing the way his cock slid along inside of your pussy almost dreamily, softly and filling you warmth, all of that doing nothing for you. You needed the burn you felt from before whenever he had bit into your neck, when his claws had scratched at your hip, when his hand had curled around your neck to choke you. You needed a pinch of that pain that bloomed into a rose of pleasure, born from decrepit soil inhibiting curses and thorns that your mother had warned you about ever touching.

You needed him. You needed him in way you knew you could only have him.

You had to tell him.

Pulling away from his neck you leant back, duly noting Sukuna’s position and expression had not changed, still the same smug look from before whenever you started to bounce on his cock with his fist propping his cheek up. Your clit was throbbing and your orgasm was even further away, making a point to sigh and flutter your eyelashes in hopes he bit the bait better, “I need you.”

“Me? You’re the one bouncing on my cock as you please, what more could you possibly want?” Despite his knack to remain nonchalant to your beg, you could see it in the way his eyes lightened up; the slight shift in his expression morphing into something downright unnerving for a brief moment. You had seen that expression once before, whenever he had killed someone right in front of you and got the glee out of watching them ultimately surrender to him before they died. However, Sukuna made no indications he was ready to tear into your body (not in the hungry sense at least), so it only fueled you further as confidence seeped into your veins like hot honey. His eyebrows furrowed down harder at the expression on your face, yet his grin only grew, teeth sharper than you would’ve ever dared to try and fight back towards, and a malevolent intent brightening his eyes, “More. Tell me more.”

The heat from his cock was searing inside of you, sitting snugly within your cunt like it was made to fit there and heavy each time you moved only an inch, and it was hard to ignore the way he was twitching and seemingly growing hotter by the minute the more you kept him inside of you. You squeezed around him once more to test how far you push at it, watching as he only slowly blinked at you in a challenge and letting be known that toying with him like that would only get you so far. It was warning really, but you weren’t keen on caring as you pushed yourself forward into his face, lips skimming his as he had done you earlier before let a hand trail up to touch the protruding part of his face in gentle caress, moving to trace his lips whenever he was only sat still below you. You grew bolder, giving in and pressing a short kiss to his bottom lip and sighing in his face dreamily.

He visibly was affected by that; a slight eye widen and twitch from his cock again.

“I want you to fuck me. Make me yours, Sukuna. I can take it and you have me, so please –”

Sukuna abruptly stiffened with a growl, the hold on your hips turning to bruising and stinging as his nails began to dig through your flesh and draw blood. You watched all of his eyes flare open, his pupils shrinking until nothing remained but a small, dark spot and his iris burning like an inferno as they only seemed to glow brighter as you back off of his face, thinking perhaps you may have went too far in pushing your luck with Sukuna. Your heart may have matched the storming in his eyes as he seemed to look past you for a moment again, like he wasn’t seeing you altogether as an assortment of emotions flashed over his face making you all the more anxious.

His mouth had curled up in a sneer, his teeth sharped than ever than you knew could tear you to pieces, before you watched a flicker of astonishment and vehemence fill his expression, but they were quickly diminished just as fast as they had come and replaced completely with something else. Sukuna’s pupils sharply enlarged again, the crimson nearly engulfed as cruel determination erupted across his entire body, his eyes holding nothing but a horrifying intent and pure hunger. His cock inside of you throbbed once, your mouth opening to apologize for perhaps overstepping your boundaries when Sukuna’s hand that been resting of his cheek shot towards you, his fingers flexed and spread apart as he caught ahold of your throat once more in a hard squeeze.

His arms on your hips shot up around your back and pinned you down to the front of him, your tits smashing ruthlessly against his own broad chest shooting a thrilling jolt tickling your spine as you inhaled sharply from the close contact. However, whatever you thought to say or even tried to do dissipated into mere mush the moment Sukuna pressed against your throat harder and used the momentum to bring you in for a devouring kiss.

Sukuna was kissing you. If you weren’t in the predicament you were in, you would’ve let out a girlish squeal in embarrassment.

Though a squeal did leave you from how rough the kiss seemed be, Sukuna wasting no time to bite fervently at your lips to give him access to the expanse of your mouth, that sinful tongue of his mapping out what it could of your own and completely dominating you in that aspect. You let him, his teeth clashing hard against your own and the coppery taste of your blood pooling in your mouth before he swiped all that up with that serpentine tongue, Sukuna leaving no room for you to even try to take a breath or make a move against him. It should have disgusted you, having such a monster kissing you like he was, but you couldn’t find the means to even find a seldom thought to think in clarity whenever Sukuna was completely consuming you.

You were expecting it though – Sukuna’s breakthrough since he had the upper hand – yet it still managed to surprise you all the less when you were preoccupied thinking about his kiss. He stirred beneath you, his thighs flexing and his hips rocking up once in an experiment, before he roughly drove up into you further enough to make you squawk into his mouth that he greedily swallowed whole driving your tongue down still with his own. Your body shook, that spark of rough treatment making your cunt pulse in anticipation as he repeated the action once more with more vigor, picking up a devastating pace that had you bouncing in his hold and the water surrounding you both beginning to splash out from his intensity as he held you down to his content and fucked up into you as he pleased.

Sukuna broke away from you mouth with a hiss and let up on the choking for the time being, swiping the blood free coating his mouth and a wide grin on his face when you took in your expression before shoving a particular hard thrust in your pussy that slammed against your innermost regions and reveling in the way you openly moaned and fell forward to hook your chin over his shoulder. You couldn’t focus on the moon behind you both, your body jostling harshly in his hold blurring your vision as Sukuna fucked you like he wanted nothing more than to completely drill his cock so far deep into you it carved a hole for him and his cock alone. And you were content to let it happen, Sukuna taking note of that as he chuckled condescendingly and you felt his nails skim along your spine.

“Mm, you’re an atrocious kisser, I suppose I can account it though for you virginity – or your lack of now,” he hotly whispered in your ear, his tongue making a reappearance to flick at your ear while he sounded not the least bit affected from his actions.

You bit down onto his shoulder to keep the comeback subdued from him insulting you once more, a hum vibrating throughout his chest at the friction it caused and moaned into his skin. Your hands found purchase on his back, scratching at the skin of what you could as drool began to escape your mouth from the way you were getting mercilessly fucked, and all the while Sukuna only continued to drive up into you and listen the gasping noises that left your mouth.

You managed to say one thing however, a garbled variation of his name that you had to gasp for between each syllable in the same wavelength his thrusting was going.

“Su – ku – na –”

You wondered if the sigh you heard was of your imagination, though you could hardly deny it when afterwards he used the hold he had on your neck to push you back into his line of sight, laughing at your fucked out face and the hand on your tit bouncing along to keep up with toying with your swollen nipple. “Don’t run and hide from me now, you looked like you were enjoying yourself… No need to be shy, you just needed to get fucked, didn’t you?” he drawled out in a purr, that damnable tongue on his abdomen returning to lick at your clit again while he made you look him in eye.

Your pussy pulsed hotly, all your nerves going haywire from the attention your body was receiving from Sukuna, and you used what you could of your muscles to squeeze him of what you could. That slight discomfort was back, your insides getting thoroughly tossed around from the way his cock slammed up into you and he forced you to take it all without a second doubt. You tried to meet him as you went, that band behind your naval continuing to grow and grow in a dangerous vortex, clenching your cunt around him and trying to rock your hips whenever that tongue lapped at you in a slower pace all the while only giving choked gasps as the form of your pleasure.

His thumb tapped your neck, his pace picking up a fraction when he noticed the way you were trying to meet him with a roll down from your hips, and Sukuna’s composure slightly began to slip again. “This body…” he started out, that calm in his voice turning raspy with an underlining growl, “You… A pleaser, aren’t you? You should’ve thought this through, human, this body is mine now – you are mine now. There’s no running away from me.”

His words made a round of fluids soak him up further, your stomach twisting at the idea of Sukuna claiming you as his own, and you arched wantonly into him with your head falling back into your shoulder blades and your eyes rolling back into your skull. You could still faintly hear the sound of the water splashing and the resounding noise of your skin slapping together, though you could hardly focus when all you wanted was to appease Sukuna – be it by your body, or your words.

“I don’t care,” you whined out, sliding your hands down to his thick, roped muscle of biceps on the top pair of his arms, “I’m yours – take it – take me, please.”

You could hear Sukuna’s breathing get rougher, around the same time his hold on you got tighter and his pace get rougher as he slid his hands down to your lower back, arching you deliciously as your body began to lean back when his own leaned forward. He was borderline growling from his chest, a groan choked up in there as he slapped your breast again before pinching your nipple harshly, “How sweet of you, it’s a shame you didn’t realize the moment I saw you that you were already mine. Virginal, village girl too dumb for any rational thoughts comes to me for salvation, how could I pass that up?” A grunt passed through his lips as he began to weigh back down onto your throat, “If only they could see you now… taking my cock like a whore and begging me to make you mine… What would they think about their precious girl then?”

He was possessive, and God, you loved it. Your head was spinning as you spoke, not entirely too sure what you were saying, but not caring since all you wanted was to hear him talk. “They don’t – matter… Only you – matter to me – Master.”

“Maybe I’ll let you visit them,” he hissed, disregarding what you had said as the hand on your throat squeezing harder to completely cut off your airway for a moment. The black dots clouding your vision and your lungs shriveling in on themselves not enough to stop the pleasure coursing throughout you as he bent your back further, your head and back skimming the surface of the water while he continued to still fuck into you at a brutal pace. “Let all those meat sacks see the communal marriage candidate and what she’s become… Then I’ll fuck you right in front of everyone so they know you whore yourself out for me now. Make sure they watch the cum seep out of you when I’m done before I fuck you wherever else I please.”

You couldn’t even moan at that, though your cunt squeezing him as hard as it could told him everything, a boisterous laugh that formed into a snarl reaching your ears as the water in the bath sloshed around dangerously and high enough to splash out onto the floor above you two. Sukuna let up on your throat enough for you to take a ragged breath, your body jostling from his ferocious fucking and roughly handling you like you were nothing but a doll letting you moan a jumbled variation of his name when it felt like he was completely tearing your guts apart. He hissed again at your whine, his cock pulsing inside of you burning and a buzz of energy enveloping you both before he mouthing off again what he’d continue to do to you.

“How about your poor husband-to-be? I’ll find him for you, then I’ll force him to watch me fuck you at his feet before I gut him and he can watch you get fucked again as he slowly dies.” You clenched around him again at the idea, inhumane and disturbing perhaps to a normal person, but to you a fantasy in the making if it was Sukuna. Jealousy looked good on him, and the fact he was jealous over you and something far in the past? You dug nails into his forearms and squeezed him again, gasping each time his cock slammed up against your cervix as he huffed again and slapped your tit, “Fucking whore, you love that idea… I knew someone like you liked being fucked like this… how fun you are.”

Your eyes rolled behind your eyelids, stomach in knots with heat pooling into your lower abdomen as your pussy pulsed with each thrust he threw back into you. The discomfort was still present, but only a faint tingle, the overwhelming ecstasy shooting up through your legs and up your spine doing the most work for you and sending you careening down into euphoria further than you could’ve ever imagined. You could only gasp and whine as he continued to completely ruin your body, your eyes fluttering open the moment you felt an abrupt change in the atmosphere and a strange silence fill the air.

What greeted you was the lanterns flickering throughout the room, the moon waning away into nothing but darkness as the scenery changed to something you had never seen before and something disturbingly horrifying. Gone was the serene night inside of Sukuna’s Onsen, the pretty stars highlighting the midnight sky with the creamy moon shining down on the Earth, instead a darkened cave-like structure with what you could make out to be a giant ribcage of a long dead beast above you and a cesspool of crimson below you before you trailed your eyes back up to the man you knew was responsible for the sudden shift, sitting atop a large pile of skulls from different animals and humans as he only continued to fuck you through whatever he had done. You could only see his lower body from the lack of light, shrouded in fluorescent red watching his cock disappear and reappear into you while that tongue swirled your swollen clit with its tip, a cruel smile on the mouth atop his abdomen before you threw your head back and let yourself be used.

An invasion in your mind made you wince, an abundance of emotions hitting you all at once with variations of heightened arousal, vicious intent and clear signs of an acute sense of fondness. You weren’t sure if they were even your own, nor did you get time to even ponder on it a Sukuna abruptly changed the way he was going to fuck you. You gaped with a choked gasp, gazing sightlessly at the everlasting darkness when Sukuna gripped your hips as hard as he dared to without completely crumbling your pelvis, using your body suspended in the air from his lap as leverage to pull you onto his cock, bordering on violent to how he was fucking you but you could only seem to fall deeper into your release as it went.

The raw flesh of your pussy came to life the more it went on, vision nearly growing hazy as you dug your nails into Sukuna’s arms as hard as you could and your moans became nothing but choked pants and gasps. He was so deep inside of you… his cock reaching a place you didn’t think was humanly possible before his hand on your tits left it to press down on your lower abdomen, enjoying the way you squealed and squirmed underneath him whenever he pushed his cock further into you.

“I can feel your pussy squeezing me, I can feel your body giving in. Are you about to cum for me?” Sukuna spoke heatedly and full of malice, though it was also sultry and full of desire, the smile present on his face you could tell by the way words rolled off of his tongue. He choked you harder until you stiffened, your pussy securing him tightly inside of you and a long drawn-out moan leaving you.

“Oh, God,” you whimpered, shutting your eyes once more as you only focused on the way your muscles along your abdomen were contracting and uncontracting in the same fashion your pussy was pulsing. You were close; so so so close.

A bark of manic laughter made you moan whenever his cock jumped from it, Sukuna’s hand leaving your throat to grasp at your face instead to peel your eye open with two fingers, “Look around you, girl. No use calling for that name, not when your entire soul is now mine,” he let go of your eye and cupped your cheek, the tongue on his abdomen hurriedly licking at your clit as Sukuna returned to fucking you instead at a frenzied pace, his growling growing louder and his voice becoming raspier by the second, “Fucking – you’re gonna scream for me. Let everyone know who you belong to and who’s the only person that can fuck you like this forever. Say it and I’ll fuck you full of my cum.”

He was close. Right along the same abyss of a dark path as you were to pleasure.

“What do you want?” he hissed.

You could only manage a mumble, “I wanna cum.”

His hips smacked into you. “Louder. Say it.”

The reaction was instantaneous, your muscles bunching up, eyes watering as the pressure in your cunt grew tenfold, his rough movements, and your rapidly approaching orgasm let the words flow freely from your mouth.

“Sukuna, please, I wanna cum! Just –” a louder whine fell out of you when he pushed you down in retaliation for more of your pleas, struggling to take his hard thrusts as you finally felt yourself let go and felt your cunt gush and squeeze one last time as you rambled the rest of your begs in a high-pitched cry.

“More.”

“I’m yours, Sukuna! Lemme cum – I’ll do anything! I want you to cum inside me so much I can’t hold it… I want you to cumin me so much there’s no way I don’t get pregnant –”

Your sentence trailed off as a snarling groan took over the sound all sound there was and his pace kicked into a destructive speed, a distorted curse spitting off his tongue as something popped and a shuttering noise flew into your ears while the inside of you felt briefly stunned from the action. After that, your body was suddenly uncoiling itself in the throes of your orgasm with a screaming plea of his name.  

Your cunt constricted around his cock in a poor effort to hold on, but the action had you spasming in one of the most intense orgasms you had ever experienced. The others paled in comparison from those late nights fingering yourself at the thought of him, your body feeling electrified from the intensity of it and your limbs jerking to find any part of his body to hold on to as you rushed through it. You didn’t know why your cunt and his dick felt like they were buzzing and vibrating from the release, but the heightened stimulation had you squirming throwing your head back as far as you could with a gaping mouth and eyes spinning into your mind while the hairs on your body rose from the change in the atmosphere. You were well aware you had gushed all over his cock as your legs jerked from the pleasure, and in the back of your mind you were only vaguely aware that he was still fucking you.

You nearly felt numb, throat feeling raw and horribly dry from the amount of screaming you had done as your body still bounced from his ravenous thrusts while you came down from that high in tremors. The drool from your mouth was something you didn’t notice, your fingers held onto his wrists instead and your legs shook, but none of that mattered when Sukuna groaned aloud, his hand cupping the back of your head before his follow-up snarl was devastating, his hand heaving you upwards back into his lap to sit you upright. You didn’t have time to register what he was doing until he viced his teeth back down onto your neck, the bite harsh and his thrusting gone savage while he fought through to his own release.

Sukuna had left you feeling spent and exhausted, legs quivering in their place as your moans fell into huffing noises with your body falling lack in his tight hold as Sukuna only hissed, snarled and groaned his way to finally giving you both what you asked for. The gush of air and energy you felt sparked around you two one last time, expanding throughout wherever you two were as the last of his composure leaving him whenever he pushed up into you with a ferocious jab that fluttered your pussy and a long-uttering satisfied groan vibrated the entire space.

Your eyes spun back as your mouth gaped when you felt the warm spurts of his cum shoot inside of your awaiting cunt and literally stuff you full as a feeling of mild electrification prickled the hair on your body. It nearly felt as if he never was going to stop, the new heat in your pussy sliding throughout the inside of you. You could feel from the thick girth of the liquid passing through your cervix and into your wombs as Sukuna’s hips rocked slowly with each new spray into you until finally he came to a full stop with his cock sitting snugly inside of you to hold all of his cum in your cunt for the time being. His fingers flexed as they returned to both grasping your hips with a hissing exhale that you felt deep into your stomach when he released his neck, and meanwhile you tried to force your mind and body to leave that fucking high and try to at least find yourself into some clarity from probably the best fucking and orgasms you had ever felt.

With your face tucked into his shoulder you felt comforted, closing your eyes for a brief moment as Sukuna relinquished parts of his hold on you, maintaining the hold in your hips however as he sunk back into a relaxed position. You reopened your eyes when you felt him hit a stop, the scenery of the Onsen greeting you once more as you slid down his body in fatigue, legs useless and body beginning to feel the effects of your tryst. You had half a mind to ask him what had happened (and how you felt his emotions), but you put it away for the time as Sukuna seemed like a content cat not wanting to bothered anymore for the day. However you did wiggle in his grasp, feigning a means to get comfortable as you grimaced from the tall-tale sign of the mess he had made of you; a goopy-like substance painting you both that you could nearly hear squish whenever you finally settled down to where you wanted to be.

You only hoped Sukuna didn’t mind, biting your cheek and keeping your chin tucked to your chest to avoid his eyes as you rested your head onto his chest. You held it there for a moment, squeezing your eyes shut in case he said anything, but once a few moments passed and you could only hear his breathing, you listened intently. Fighting through your own thundering heartbeat wracking around in your brain and ears, you could hear it, and it lit up a light inside of you the moment you heard the first thump.

A heartbeat.

More importantly, Sukuna’s heartbeat.

It was steady, perhaps beating slower than average, but it was still there.

The magma inside of you had gone quite; no more burning or bubbling in the danger of erupting, instead in its place heavy igneous rocks shimmering with perhaps a gem inside from your turbulent emotions finally being put to rest. It was comforting as it weighed you down, content to say in Sukuna’s presence as long as he allowed you and devote what you could to him as he needed be.

You could feel your cheeks warm, easing more into his body as you finally felt him stretch underneath you, then he was sighing like he was hurt. “Do you think me a monster so much you look to see if I have a heart?” he asked with a tease, a finger dipping into the water next to your hip to circle it around in the seldom that he may have been bored.

You were thankful he couldn’t see your expression, for he would’ve seen the embarrassment written all over it from you being caught red-handed over something so silly. With your cheek squished against his bulging pectoral, you answered, “No, I just didn’t know if curses had one…” God, you hoped he didn’t get offended by that.

He did not, a snort reaching your ears before he flicked your forehead, “I would not be sitting here as we speak if I did not. My heart is still intact much like your own feeble, little organ, though it’s ways stronger than yours as well, little human.”

Sukuna could not go ten minutes without gloating apparently.

You rolled your eyes safely out of his sight, fully prepared to just remain resting on him until he told you to get off of him or something, until he shifted again and you felt the organ connecting you two suddenly stir. You nearly felt like your pelvis was shifting again (God, you weren’t going to be walking straight for days) and had to keep from squawking again whenever his cock hardened while remaining inside of you. It popped and you hissed, trying to rise up to pull him out of you, but Sukuna was steadfast keeping you in his lap and his cock snugly inside.

“Owww,” you whined, pulling away from his chest to hold onto his shoulders while you mewled whenever he gave a sharp thrust inwards once more.

Sukuna grinned, nails digging into your hips and a cackle on his tongue, “You complain now? You’re an odd one, and part of me thinks you quite like some pain. Got myself a masochistic whore, do I?”

“I’m not – Mmmm, Sukuna,” you broke into a sigh, breath hitching and body coming back to life for pleasure whenever he started to play with your nipples again. Surely not he was prepared to go again… You knew he had stamina, but from the way he had fucked you… “But you just –”

Sukuna tsked, one hand leaving your hip to tweak at your clit and humming whenever bucked onto him, “You should know better than to think I was done with you –”

Your world abruptly spun again, one second looking into Sukuna’s shit-eating smirk, and the next you were facing the wall he had been propped up against, your hands gripping the rocks placed there and your body bent over. The only thing keeping your legs from giving out was Sukuna’s new grip on you, guiding your hips back so that your ass met his pelvis and his thighs slapped against your own, and his cock suddenly reentering you with little to no friction due to the amount of cum from both of you still inside of you made you gasp at how fast he did it. Fucking back onto him out of a bodily reaction, he laughed, a hand coming down to slap your ass before he gave one heavy thrust into you, the new angle reaching a deeper spot and starbursts breaking out in your vision.

“Look at you, already used to it. You and I are making up for lost time… I’ll fuck you like a bitch first, then I’ll make good use of that mouth.”

You could only moan, back arching deliciously and fingers turning into a white-knuckled grip on the rocks in front of you, and your thoughts could only focus on the fact you had a long night ahead of you whenever his hand slammed down on your back for a deeper arch and his skin began to slap into yours in the sinful melody of your communion.

[bunicate]

omg congrats on pulling bladie!!! big brother blade lives on my mind ngl ik he loves to spoil his lil sister’s pussy the second his parents r outta the houseee ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི ₊˚ 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒂𝒅 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 . blade x fem reader

warnings ꒱ྀི incest. brief anal. creampie. a litl bit of possessive bladie. he says some dubious things. just a smidge of jealousy. “little girl” usage. breeding mention. unedited ofkurs ﾉ wc ꒱ 1.4k ﾉ 18+ ﾉ if uncomfy pls scroll or block ^_^

muhehe tysm ! ! still trying to build him ! he’s far from perfect but at least he’s at home with me. yk I had 2 pull through nd write smthn icky for him but I did go in a tad bit different direction :<<

you feel it, regret pooling in the pit of your stomach like rocks settling at the bottom of a shallow lake. the beating of your heart stutters out of tandem with the batter of blades hips.

his firm hands anchor themselves on the softness of your lower back, dull nails digging into your skin like thorns.

he fucks you with such depravity, and your obnoxiously noisy cunt salivated in response to the familiar bump of his cock. 

it was far too late for regrets, you knew it well, even as he’s buried himself to the hilt. your parents were a thing of the past, but there’s always the potential of subjecting an innocent passerby to the sight of your brother rubbing your tender insides with his cock. 

despite your roused state, you're still capable of reason, though your brother seemed to have a complete disregard for it.

“b-bladie.”

it’s soft on his ears, polite, although honeyed with a subtle warning accompanied by the slow pulse of your cunt. 

his cock twitches from your quiet plea. he’s close, and at this point, he knows better than to cross the line any further, but you were elusive to your own charms. how could he bury his urges when your round and soft butt continued to smack against his pelvis ? your cunt drooled each time he pulled out.

 its such a sight for sore eyes, and somehow his gaze kept wandering to the tight rim above, making his breathing ragged— almost animalistic.

 he’s seen all of you, sights no older brother should witness, but it didn’t stop him from wanting more.

it should terrify you, the lengths he goes to stake his claim over you. coming as close as threatening to breed you and keep you bound to him like a pet. predators would be wise to never cross the hunter, even they could sense the extent of his prowess. 

blade purposefully keeps you out of his affairs, but you know he’s a fearsome warrior. he’s tall and slender and with each movement, his hulk of muscle flexes. he’s strong enough to drag your body up and down his member, serving as a stark reminder of the gap in strength.

blade's palms, rough from wielding his ancient sword, settled on both sides of your waist, steels its grip. his thumb presses against your back, and the tips of his fingers meet at your belly button.

he bounces you on his cock, using you like a doll factored for fucking. he lifted you repeatedly like you weighed nothing and all you could do was submit to his brutal pace. 

blade bites his lip to prevent curses from escaping.

he feels . . . good, better than usual. your swollen pussy tugs on his length, drawing out the remnants of his willpower. the desire to cum and bury it in your womb causes blood to rush.

like you can sense the danger, you peer over your shoulder cautiously. 

“you h-have to pull out . . y’can’t just cum inside, okay ?”

such a redundant conversation, and he pays it no mind. 

what good would it be to do something so risky—so wrong, but for blade, it would be worth the peril. 

he doesn’t acknowledge your admonition, instead pressing you further into the sheets, elongating the arch in your back.

“stay still.” 

his hand collides with your backside and a startled gasp echoes. the apple of your ass cheek stings, while the damp release between your thighs becomes stickier. 

the weight on the bed dips when your big brother lowers himself. his chest presses to your back when he fucks you again.

roaring slaps of moist flesh lie thick in the air. you’re soft, so fragile in his embrace that he could crush you like a dainty flower trampled from being hidden between shards of grass.

when blade feels that familiar tender pulse of your cunt signaling your finish, he painfully pulls out as per your whiny request. he utterly despised having to separate himself from you, but nonetheless, he obeys your wishes. sort of.

his cock stands tall and thick, cream dripping from the edge of his tip. your pussy is agape in front of him, but his eyes linger on the tight coil of your ass.

rough palms enclose in a tight fist around his shaft. he pumps his cock, staring daggers at the rim until his balls hang heavier.

he wanted to empty them, he wanted nothing more than to milk his cock using your sweet cunt, but the hunger that normally consumed him wanted something else for a change. 

he slaps his tip against your puckered hole, humping the pretty flesh. his leaking head increasingly swells as the seconds pass by, turning bright pink. the hunter groans, and heaves, his sickening thoughts running rampant while he envisions himself filling up his little sister. 

he’s no longer computing, his body moves on autopilot, and he’s wiping his glossy tip over your ass. 

“hnn-! n-no more. not there bladie !”

you squeal. the sensation is new and foreign, and you find yourself torn between begging for more or scrambling away.

a growing smirk settles on his face, and you see a slither of his sharp teeth.

“you're mouthy today. maybe i should put my cock somewhere else instead.”

you tense when his tip probes your tight muscle again, rubbing it in circles. he was stimulating your ass, forcing your pussy to twitch out of neglect. 

he mumbles to himself. 

“such a brainless girl. i thought i made it clear that i take what i want.”

his orbital pools mimicking the color of blood narrow. he’s almost there, sloppily fucking the skin of your ass until the slippery head of his member breaches the tight ring. and then he snaps. 

with a single, calculated thrust, relief rains down in waves. he buries his cock in all the way as streams of his cum spurt out, dressing your walls in milky webs.

it’s warm as it fills your insides and your mind becomes a foggy maze. instead of your big brother cumming inside your cunt, he emptied his load in your ass, and nothing but burgeoning heat swallows you up. 

“thats it . . take what i give you.”

it’s hard to retain anything when his breath tickles the sides of your cheek and his pulsing sack mushes against your clit. 

“no part of you is off limits, little girl.” 

by now, you're writhing, and you can’t think about how full you felt. not when his words had you mewling out of shame and excitement.

blade makes sure to deliver a few more thrusts, just to be certain that he’s been thoroughly drained. his heart thrums against his chest, reminding him that he's real—you’re real, and that his cock is stretching his little sister’s ass.

his breathing becomes uneven, the exhales of air caressing the plains of your damp skin.

he lowers his head, his lips settling by the shell of your  ear. 

“soon . .”

long strands of his hair fall into place , resting on your own skin.

“i'll cum inside this tiny cunt and there's nothing you'll be able to do about it.”

a shiver runs down your spine. equal parts of fear and eagerness for that fateful day of promise.

when he pulls out, his seed drips from your opening down the length of your slit. both of his hands grab your ass cheeks to watch the cum nestle between your lower lips and spill on the already soiled sheets. 

carefully he watches your cunt push out the remnants, watching it cascade in thick dollops. 

“such greedy holes.” 

you puff out your cheeks and move the stringy hairs from your face. 

“stop it . . it’s so embarrassing when you say that .” 

you attempt to kick him off, and of course it’s thwarted by his iron hold on you.

he presses a sloppy kiss on your asshole, uncaring of the mess coating your sensitive parts. 

“eeeeeeeek -! you’re sooooooo gross, bladie ! get away from me !”

he spanks your ass to hush your outburst.

“shut up.”

he kisses you to silence more of your complaints. the faint taste of cum on his soft lips mingling against your spit - slicked ones. 

 he pulls away audibly, taking a calm breath. 

“you're seeing jing yuan tomorrow.”

you raise an eyebrow at the sudden mention of the general.

your brother is nothing less of a maverick, only keeping you close and others at a less than reasonable distance.

jing yuan however complicated things. while they weren't as close, anymore you still made an effort to see him despite their soured relationship.

in his scarce free time when he wasn't resting, he taught you all sorts of things. he helped time escape you when boredom struck in blade's absence. 

you nod stiffly, still skeptical at the hunter before you. you're wary of his intentions, but too stimulated to care. 

blade's face betrays no emotion and so, you’re suddenly startled.

you gasp when his teeth nicks at your neck.

he sucks the skin for a few seconds and then kisses the spot he bruised. proud of his handiwork he pulls away to speak up once more. you can nearly hear his smugness.

“. . . send my regards to the general.”

[mineralsandsomerocks]

Native Silver (tarnished yellow) overgrown by Nickeline (pink) and Rammelsbergite (whitish grey rim on Nickeline) and Gersdorffite (light grey, euhedral crystals) and partially replaced by intergrown Acanthite (dull, scratched grey) and Stephanite (slightly lighter, "cleaner" grey)

Locality: Easter-Duffy Deposit, Greater Slave Lake, Northwest Territories, Canada

Plane Polarized Reflected Light, 50X Magnification

Have not had time to take new pictures of my newer rocks, as I have been super busy working on my MSc, so I thought I would upload some reflected light images from my thesis! If it seems like these are something folks want to see, I have loads more where this came from. Plus tumblr has a lack of reflected light microscopy images anyways. Feel free to reach out if you have any questions about this stuff!

[rainforestakiie]

AdamsApple Month Harvest!

Bonfire~

hello everyone! happy birthday @inubaki! i wanted to get this part up for you! i hope you like it!

for everyone else, i am sorry! please do not hate bonfire too much!

Part 01 - Part 02 - Part 03 - Part 04

@adamsappleweek

The bonfire crackled and popped behind him, a symphony of embers whispering into the night, mocking his retreat. Adam dragged himself further across the field, his legs trembling as though each step weighed a hundred pounds. His vision blurred, tears spilling freely from his red-rimmed, stinging eyes. His nose was stuffed, and his breaths came in shuddering gasps, as though the air itself had turned against him. Chills coursed down his twitching skin despite the lingering warmth of the firelight that seemed to cling to his back, a cruel reminder of what he was leaving behind.

His head felt bare, disconcertingly light without the familiar weight of his flower crown. The vibrant blend of carnations and apple blossoms, his pride and solace, now lay discarded somewhere behind him. It was the second time tonight he had thrown it aside, an act considered a grave insult to the gods. He had almost turned back to retrieve it, but his feet had refused to comply. Or perhaps his heart had refused. He couldn’t go back—not after this. Not after another rejection. Not after his chest had been cracked open and his soul laid bare for nothing.

He stumbled, his gait unsteady, nearly toppling over the gnarled roots that jutted from the field like skeletal fingers. The thin line of trees surrounding the bonfire stretched before him like a frail barrier, separating him from the rest of the world. Beyond those trees, the woods thickened into an impenetrable mass to the east and west, while the south gave way to the notorious lake.

The lake was a siren, beautiful but deadly. It shimmered deceptively under the moonlight, the surface calm, but beneath its serene facade lay a current strong enough to drag even the fiercest alpha under. The sharp rocks that lined its heart were merciless; many had met their end there. Alphas, betas, omegas—it didn’t discriminate. Countless lives had been claimed by its icy grip, their stories whispered through warnings etched onto signs and spoken in hushed tones around the village. And yet, Adam didn’t care. He pressed on blindly, his vision clouded further with each tear that spilled over.

His chest ached—a hollow, burning throb unlike anything he had ever endured. After Eve, he had thought himself impervious to heartbreak. He had vowed never to let anyone wield such power over him again. But here he was, shattered and gasping for air over someone he barely knew. Steve. A name that now tasted bitter on his tongue, one that clung to his mind like a burr, refusing to let go.

Why did it hurt so much? Why did the rejection of a stranger—a fleeting connection, barely an hour old—cut him so deeply? The pain surged through him, raw and relentless, twisting in his chest like a knife. His legs buckled, and he sank to his knees, the damp earth soaking into his trousers.

The wind whispered through the trees, carrying the distant laughter of those still gathered by the bonfire. Their voices felt like a lifetime away, and yet their joy was a dagger to Adam’s heart. He was alone in his anguish, lost in a sea of despair. His trembling fingers dug into the soil as he fought for a breath that didn’t ache, a thought that didn’t spiral.

But none came. Only the relentless pull of the lake, its waters beckoning him with promises of release, of quiet, of nothingness.

The sky was a tapestry of soft pink and orange, streaked with the last whispers of daylight as night crept closer. Adam stumbled to the edge of the lake, its waters glimmering faintly under the shifting hues above. The breeze off the surface was cool, brushing against his fevered skin, a cruel contrast to the fire raging in his chest. He stood there for a moment, his arms hanging limply by his sides, his head bowed as though the weight of the world had finally forced him to his knees.

“What’s wrong with me?” he whispered, the words trembling as they left his lips.

His voice cracked, and the silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the lapping of the water against the rocks. Adam clenched his fists, his nails biting into his palms, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the ache that consumed him. It spread from his chest, heavy and suffocating, until it felt as though it would swallow him whole.

“Why doesn’t anyone want me?” His voice grew louder, trembling with raw anguish. “Why does everyone always—always push me aside? What did I ever do? Is it me? Is it something I said, something I am?”

The memories clawed their way to the surface, unbidden and merciless. Lilith, his first crush, her kind smile that had always been for someone else. She had stayed his friend, sure, but her polite words and careful kindness had always been laced with pity. She never saw him, not really. And Lute—he had thought they were perfect for each other. They had laughed at the same jokes, shared the same dreams. But the moment someone better came along, someone brighter, stronger, more, she had cut him off without a second thought. Not even a farewell, just the cold silence of messages left unanswered.

“At least Lilith cared enough to pretend,” Adam spat bitterly. “Lute didn’t even give me that much.”

And then there was Eve. Eve, who had been the closest he’d ever come to happiness. Eve, who had made him feel seen, wanted, cherished—until the moment she didn’t. Eve, who hadn’t just left him; she had betrayed him in the cruellest way imaginable. She hadn’t shattered his heart with regretful words or hollow excuses. No, Eve had ripped it apart when he found her wrapped around his best friend, their laughter and whispers a blade between his ribs.

And then there was Eve. Eve, who had been the closest he’d ever come to happiness. Eve, who had made him feel seen, wanted, cherished—until the moment she didn’t. Eve, who hadn’t just left him; she had betrayed him in the cruellest way imaginable. She hadn’t shattered his heart with regretful words or hollow excuses. No, Eve had ripped it apart when he found her wrapped around his best friend, their laughter and whispers a blade between his ribs.

His knees gave out, and he collapsed onto the jagged shore. The sharp rocks dug into his palms as he caught himself, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the agony coursing through him. Tears streamed down his face, hot and relentless, blurring his vision until all he could see was the shimmering lake before him, the ghost of Eve’s betrayal reflected in its mocking calm.

He let the pain pour out of him, his sobs shaking his entire body. His words became incoherent, a string of broken pleas and desperate questions hurled at the indifferent sky.

Why? Why him? Why is it always fucking Lucifer?  

The betrayal cut deeper because he had trusted them both. Eve, who had once been his light, his sanctuary. And Lucifer—the one person who was supposed to have his back. Together, they had destroyed him.

And then there was Steve. Steve, who had barely known him for an hour, who had smiled at him like he mattered, only to turn away just as quickly. It was almost laughable how easily hope had sparked and then died, like a flame snuffed out by a cruel wind. How foolish he was to think, even for a moment, that this time might be different. That he might be different.

“Why does no one stay?” Adam whispered, his voice trembling, shattered. “Why do I keep thinking… thinking someone will love me when it’s always the same? I’m never enough. Never.”

The lake shimmered before him, a mirror reflecting the colours of the dying light. The sky was ablaze with orange and purple, the first stars daring to peek through the veil of twilight. The beauty of it all mocked him, a cruel reminder that the world kept turning, uncaring of his pain. He stared at the water, his chest heaving, his breath hitching as fresh tears carved paths down his cheeks.

He was tired—soul-tired. The weight of rejection, of betrayal, of heartbreak, pressed down on him, threatening to drown him before the lake even had a chance. Every path seemed to lead him back here, to this hollow ache that consumed him.

Maybe the lake held the answer. Maybe it’s cool, silent depths could finally quiet the chaos in his head. The whispers of unworthiness, the relentless echo of betrayal, the crushing loneliness—they could all be silenced here. He stood slowly, his legs trembling beneath him as he stepped forward, the water licking at his shoes.

He looked up one last time, the fiery hues of the sky fading into deep purples and blues. It was beautiful, he thought distantly. A cruel kind of beauty, but beauty, nonetheless. He took a deep, shuddering breath and let out a scream—a guttural, anguished cry that tore through the stillness. It echoed through the woods, into the emptiness of the night, a primal release of everything he had been holding inside for too long. His pain, his anger, his heartbreak—it all poured out in that one desperate cry.

When the echoes faded, Adam sank back to his knees, the cold-water pooling around him. His scream had left him hollow, like a storm that had passed but left destruction in its wake. Yet the pain remained, gnawing and relentless, a reminder that he was still here. Still breathing. Still fighting a life that seemed intent on breaking him.

Adam closed his eyes as the cold water lapped around his knees. The chill seeped into his skin, a stark contrast to the burning ache inside him. It was soothing in a way, numbing the relentless pain that had consumed him for so long. He let his body relax, surrendering to the icy embrace of the lake. The current was patient, gentle at first, but he knew it would find him soon enough. It always did.

It was only a matter of time. He wanted his emotions to be drained away into the lake.

Without emotions, without feelings, he wouldn’t have to fight anymore—to be seen, to be chosen, to be enough. He wouldn’t have to keep praying for someone to stay, someone to look past all his flaws and imperfections and decide he was worthy. He wouldn’t have to feel the sharp sting of hope kindling in his chest, only to be extinguished when they left him for someone else. For Lucifer. Always Lucifer.

Why was it always him? Adam’s thoughts spiralled, carried by the water’s pull as his body began to drift. He had fallen for Lilith once, a quiet, yearning crush that he hadn’t dared to voice for fear of ruining their friendship. But it hadn’t mattered; Lilith had only ever had eyes for Lucifer. Adam had accepted it, or so he thought. Then there was Lute. Sweet, funny Lute, who had seemed so much like him—until she wasn’t. Until she had found Lucifer more interesting, more deserving, and cut Adam out of her life like he had never mattered at all.

And Eve. God, Eve. She had been different, or so Adam had let himself believe. She had been kind, attentive, and he had foolishly let himself hope she could love him the way he had loved her. But she had gone behind his back too, slipping into Lucifer’s arms with a practiced ease that made Adam wonder if he had ever truly known her.

Then came Steve, a fleeting chance, a moment of reckless hope. Steve had looked at him, smiled at him like he was worth something. But even that had crumbled when Steve turned to Lucifer, the two of them wrapped in an embrace that left Adam hollow and gasping for air.

Lucifer. The name echoed in Adam’s mind like a curse, a weight he couldn’t escape. Lucifer, who had been his best friend. The person Adam had trusted more than anyone, loved more than anything. Lucifer, who had shared his nest, worn his clothes, eaten at his table, and been part of his family. Adam had given so much of himself to Lucifer, but it was never enough. It had never been enough.

He slipped.

It was an accident.

Adam slipped into the lake. It was an accident, the kind born of distraction and misstep. One moment, he stood at the edge, lost in thought, and the next, the ground gave way beneath him. The icy water rushed up to meet him, cold fingers wrapping around his legs, his waist, his chest, as though the lake itself had been waiting for this moment.

For a second, Adam froze, his breath catching as the chill bit into him. He imagined the water climbing higher, enveloping him entirely, the cold snug around his neck like a quiet invitation. As the current gently coaxed him downward, he let himself believe his body was sinking, weightless, carried not by struggle but by surrender. The thought of drifting, of being pulled away from everything—the pain, the rejection, the betrayal—felt almost peaceful. Far away from Lucifer, far away from it all.

The heaviness in his chest began to lift. For the first time in what felt like years, the suffocating knot of anger and despair unravelled. The ache dulled as he gave in to the water's embrace. The world around him dimmed—the dying sun’s glow, the whispering wind in the trees. It all faded into a distant hum. Adam closed his eyes and waited.

He hadn’t meant for this. Not really. But maybe… maybe this was his place. To let go, to sink into the depths, where the lake could carry him far from the ache of trying to matter, to be loved. Somewhere he wouldn’t have to fight. His breath trembled as he slipped further beneath the surface, his thoughts quieting, the current cradling him like a lullaby.

The cold tightened its grip, and Adam felt himself pulled deeper. His limbs turned heavy, his heartbeat an erratic thrum in his ears. Darkness pressed against his vision, shrinking his world to the rippling glow of the moonlight far above. His lungs burned, screaming for air, but his body refused. He was sinking, surrendering, letting the current decide. Until—

Something yanked at him. Rough, burning hands wrapped around his wrist, piercing the cold. He jolted sluggishly, then violently, as he was pulled upward. The surface shattered around him in a burst of noise and icy spray. Air rushed into his lungs in choking, broken gasps as he was dragged onto the riverbank.

Adam sat, unmoving, his soaked clothes clinging to him, heavy as the silence around him. He stared at the lake’s dark, rippling surface, where the moonlight shimmered, untouched, indifferent. His breath hitched, his lashes dripping water as he blinked. His body trembled from the cold, but inside, a different kind of chill took root.

Oh.

Oh… he hadn’t meant for this.

He hadn’t meant to fall in, hadn’t meant to sink so far. He only wanted to escape for a moment, to lose himself in the water and leave his emotions behind—not to let go of everything. Not like that.

The bank beneath him was jagged and unkind, the stones biting through his drenched clothes. The night air cut into his skin, sharp and relentless. Adam coughed, his chest heaving as water spilled from his lungs, each breath raw and painful. Tears blurred his vision, and he couldn’t tell if they were from the lake or the sharp ache inside him.

Beside him, someone gasped, their breaths uneven and shallow. Adam turned his head sluggishly toward the sound, but his body refused to move, rooted in exhaustion and the weight of what just happened.

"Adam," the voice choked out, hoarse and trembling, "Addie..."

Lucifer collapsed onto his knees beside him, his slender frame trembling from the cold and exertion. His blonde hair was plastered to his pale face, rivulets of water trailing down his sharp features. His soaked clothes clung to his thin, bony frame, making him look even smaller, more fragile than usual.

But Adam didn’t look at him. He didn’t look at anything. His gaze was locked on the water, the dark, rippling surface that had nearly claimed him. The world around him was muted, distant, like he was watching it through frosted glass. He didn’t feel the stones cutting into his skin, didn’t register the frantic movement of the boy beside him. He just sat there, his hands limp in his lap, his body slack and unresponsive.

Lucifer, crouched beside him, coughed violently, his thin frame shuddering with each ragged breath. His golden hair clung to his pale face, drenched and tangled, but he didn’t care. His wide blue eyes were frantic, darting over Adam as if trying to make sure he was still there, still alive.

"Adam," Lucifer croaked, his voice hoarse and trembling. "Addie—Adam, please."

His hands trembled as they reached for Adam, fumbling over the wet fabric of his hoodie. The material was cold and unyielding under his touch, but Lucifer clung to it like it was a lifeline. He tugged weakly at the hood, trying to pull Adam closer, his voice breaking into incoherent hiccups.

"Don’t—don’t you dare do that again," Lucifer choked out, his words fragmented by the sobs clawing up his throat.

Tears blurred his vision as he leaned in, cupping Adam’s face with shaking hands. His palms felt the sharp chill of Adam’s skin, but Adam didn’t flinch, didn’t react. His green eyes remained fixed on the water, empty and hollow, as if his soul had been left behind beneath the surface.

Lucifer’s heart fractured further at the sight.

"Addie, please, look at me," he begged, his voice high and desperate. "Please, say something—anything! Just... just let me know you're still here."

But Adam didn’t say a word. His silence was deafening, louder than any scream could ever be.

A broken sob escaped Lucifer as he dropped his forehead against Adam’s shoulder, his body wracked with trembling cries. His arms slid around Adam’s-soaked form, clinging to him as if he could hold him together, as if his embrace alone could anchor him to the world. Lucifer buried his face in the crook of Adam’s neck, his tears mixing with the lake water that still dripped from Adam’s hair.

"This is all my fault," Lucifer whispered, his voice barely audible, muffled against Adam’s cold skin. "I—I never meant for any of this to happen. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t mean to push you away."

His fingers gripped Adam’s hoodie tighter, his knuckles white with the effort.

"I’m sorry," he gasped, his sobs spilling freely now. "I’m so sorry, Addie. I should’ve been better. I should’ve seen—"

His voice cracked, splintering into a cry that tore from his chest. "You’re all I have. You’re everything, and I almost—"

 He couldn’t finish the thought, the words dying in his throat. Lucifer pulled back slightly, just enough to look at Adam’s face, his blue eyes red-rimmed and glistening with tears.

"Please," he whispered, his voice raw and pleading. "Please, don’t leave me. I—"

He faltered, his breath hitching. "I can’t do this without you. I don’t want to."

Adam remained motionless, his expression unreadable. The warmth that had always defined him, that radiated through every smile, every laugh, was gone. Lucifer shook his head, his tears falling harder.

"Say something, Addie," he begged again, his voice barely holding together. "Hate me, scream at me, anything—just don’t leave me like this. Please don’t leave me."

The silence stretched, suffocating and cruel. Lucifer’s chest heaved with the weight of his grief, his heart breaking further with every passing second that Adam didn’t respond. Finally, with a trembling breath, Lucifer rested his head against Adam’s shoulder again, his tears soaking into the fabric of his hoodie.

"I’m sorry," he whispered again, his voice so soft it was almost swallowed by the night. "I’m so, so sorry."

For what felt like an eternity, Adam sat like a statue, unyielding and silent. Lucifer clung to him, his sobs gradually fading into quiet, shaky breaths. The lake continued to ripple in the breeze, its surface glittering mockingly under the pale moonlight, while the world around them felt as if it had been carved into a graveyard of frozen moments.

And still, Adam said nothing.

Lucifer clung to Adam like a lifeline, his entire frame trembling with the weight of the words he could no longer keep inside. His fingers dug into Adam’s sodden hoodie, his face buried in the curve of Adam’s shoulder as the tears spilled freely, soaking into the already damp fabric. Each word that escaped him was a jagged edge, scraping raw against his throat.

"I—I didn’t like her, Addie," he stammered, the confession clawing its way out of him in a broken gasp. "Lilith—I never liked her. I wasn’t—I wasn’t trying to help you win her over, I didn’t want too. I didn’t want you to be with her, not because I had an interest in her. God, no. I hated her. I hated the way you looked at her, I hated that you thought you weren’t enough, like you needed to change to fit her stupid, shallow expectations. She wasn’t good enough for you, Addie! She wasn’t!"

His fingers tightened their grip, pulling Adam closer as if terrified he might slip away again.

"I—I made her focus on me," he choked, his voice rising in desperation. "Not because you weren’t good enough for her, but because she wasn’t good enough for you. I didn’t want her to take you away from me, Adam. It’s always been us—just us. And I was so scared. So scared that she’d ruin that."

Adam remained still, his head tilted slightly, his face unreadable. His silence only made Lucifer spiral further.

"I was selfish," Lucifer continued, his sobs hitching with every breath. "I thought if I could just make her leave, everything would go back to normal. But it didn’t. You started pulling away from me, Addie. You started... slipping through my fingers, and it killed me. I didn’t want that! I was so relieved when she stopped bothering us, but then—then you kept talking about her. You kept bringing her up, acting like I loved her, like I cared about her, and it wasn’t true! It wasn’t true!"

Lucifer pressed his face harder against Adam’s shoulder, his voice muffled and thick with tears. "I never loved her. I never even liked her. I just wanted to keep you with me. I wanted us to stay the way we were."

A sharp sob tore through him as he tried to catch his breath, but the words wouldn’t stop. They spilled out in a torrent, unstoppable now.

"And then there was Lute," he gasped, his voice cracking. "You told me about her, and it was like—I don’t know, Addie, it felt like she was threatening to take you away too. Another alpha, another someone trying to come between us. I—I couldn’t let that happen."

His grip faltered for a moment, his fingers trembling against Adam’s hoodie.

"I did the same thing with her," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I made her look at me. She wanted an omega to protect and take care of, so I became that. I played the part just to make her go away. And it worked, didn’t it? She left. She cut you off. She wasn’t good enough for you, Addie. She wasn’t. None of them are!"

Lucifer’s sobs grew louder, more frantic, as he clutched Adam tighter, as if he could pour all his anguish into that embrace.

"I’m sorry," he cried, over and over, his voice breaking with every word. "I’m so sorry, Addie. I was scared. I didn’t know what I was doing, and I hurt you, and I’m so—so sorry."

Adam’s silence loomed over him, oppressive and deafening. Lucifer’s chest heaved with the effort of trying to explain, to justify, to beg for forgiveness all at once.

"And Eve," he rasped, his voice raw. "God, Eve. She was poison, Addie. She kept saying—kept telling me I was born wrong, that I was broken, that I had to be fixed. She didn’t care about you. She didn’t care about us. She just wanted to tear me away from you and ruin everything. I had to get her away from you, Addie. I had to. She wasn’t right for you."

Lucifer pulled back slightly, his tear-streaked face a picture of devastation as he looked at Adam’s blank, dazed expression. His hands moved to cup Adam’s face, trembling as they cradled him gently, almost reverently.

"And Steve—" Lucifer let out a bitter, almost hysterical laugh through his tears. "I didn’t even know Steve. You didn’t even know him! But the way he moved on, the way he made out with someone else the moment you weren’t looking—it proved it, didn’t it? He wasn’t good enough either, Addie. He wasn’t. None of them are. None of them could ever love you like I do."

Lucifer’s voice cracked on the last word, and he swallowed hard, his chest tight with the weight of the final, unspoken truth.

"Because I do, Addie," he whispered, his thumb brushing against Adam’s clammy cheek. "I love you. I’ve loved you since we were kids. You’re the only person who’s ever accepted me, who’s ever looked at me like I wasn’t broken, like I wasn’t just an omega to be pitied or fixed. You’re everything to me, Addie. Everything. And I—I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you to someone else."

His tears fell faster now, hot and endless, as he leaned his forehead against Adam’s, his voice breaking with every syllable. "I love you so much, and I’ve hurt you so much, and I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t know how to make you see—I just—I’m so sorry, Addie. I’m so sorry."

Lucifer’s sobs wracked his body as he held Adam’s face, his blue eyes searching desperately for any sign of recognition, any flicker of response. But Adam remained still, his expression blank, his silence a void that threatened to swallow Lucifer whole.

Lucifer’s hands shook as they gripped Adam’s face, his fingers trembling against Adam’s skin as if his touch could somehow pull Adam back to him, make him see the truth. His chest ached, a suffocating, hollow pain that felt like it was ripping him apart from the inside. Every breath he took felt jagged, caught somewhere between regret and desperation, like he was suffocating on the words he’d never said before. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold them in, but now, with Adam so close, the dam had broken.

“I’m twisted, Addie,” Lucifer choked out, his voice hoarse with the weight of everything he had buried for so long. “I—I can’t stand it. I can’t stand the thought of anybody else touching you. Anybody else being with you.”

His breath hitched, his hands tightening their grip on Adam’s shoulders, pulling him even closer as if he could absorb Adam’s warmth into his very being.

He winced, like the admission itself had left a wound. “When somebody else even gets near you, it’s like… it’s like I’m going to throw up. I—I can smell their pheromones, Addie. I can feel them, feel their presence on you, and it’s… it’s unbearable. Like they’re taking something that’s mine. You’ve always been mine. You’ve always been the one who mattered. But I was too afraid to ever tell you. I thought—I thought if you knew just how much I loved you, you’d hate me. That you’d see how twisted I am. How broken I am.”

His eyes searched Adam’s face, desperate for any sign, any hint of a reaction, but Adam’s expression remained unreadable, a blank slate that only made Lucifer feel more hopeless, more out of control.

“I didn’t know what to do, Addie. I didn’t know how to tell you,” Lucifer continued, his voice a mix of agony and shame. "So I... I played games. Every time someone showed interest in you, every time someone threatened to take you away, I—I played games. I was so scared, Addie. I thought if I could just make them go away, make them leave you alone, we could stay together, just the two of us. I thought you’d never see through it, never see how messed up I really am. But I was wrong. I was so, so wrong."

He pulled back slightly, his fingers trembling as he wiped his tears away, only to have them replaced by more, the flood of emotion too much to contain. His voice grew quieter, more fragile, like the very weight of his confession was too much for him to bear.

“You deserve more than this, Adam,” Lucifer whispered. “You deserve someone who doesn’t play these games, who doesn’t treat you like a prize to fight for. But I couldn’t stop myself. I couldn’t let anyone take you. And so I—Lilith, Lute, Eve, Steve—they were never real to me. None of them mattered. They were just people in the way, people I had to remove, because I love you too much. I couldn’t let them take you from me. I thought I could make you see that, if I just kept playing the part, you’d stay. But I was wrong.”

Lucifer’s breath shuddered as he leaned his forehead against Adam’s, his eyes searching desperately for some kind of understanding, for some glimmer of forgiveness that he didn’t think he deserved.

“I’m so sorry, Addie,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I’m so sorry. I love you. I’ve always loved you. I’ve just been too much of a coward to say it.”

He swallowed hard, feeling his heart crack with each word. “You’re the only one who’s ever been on my mind. The only one I’ve ever cared about. And now… now I’ve ruined it. I’ve ruined everything.”

Lucifer’s fingers slipped down Adam’s arms, his touch trembling, but he didn’t pull away. “I thought… I thought I could protect you from them. From anyone who would take you away from me. But all I did was push you further and further from me. I didn’t know how to stop. I just wanted you to stay, just wanted you to need me the way I need you.”

He let out a broken laugh, his eyes squeezing shut as he felt the weight of his own words. “I’m a coward, Addie. A selfish coward. And I’m so sorry. I don’t deserve your forgiveness. But I need you to know how much I love you. I need you to know the truth, even if it’s too late."

Lucifer’s breath was coming in sharp, uneven gasps now, the emotions swirling inside him too much to bear. “Please… please, say something. Please tell me you don’t hate me. I don’t know what I’ll do if you do.”

 His voice cracked, the rawness of his confession settling deep within him, leaving him exposed and vulnerable in a way he had never allowed himself to be before. But even as the words spilled from him, he was terrified that Adam’s silence, his blank expression, meant that it was all too late.

“I love you, Adam,” Lucifer whispered one last time, his voice fragile. “I’ve always loved you. And I’ll keep loving you, even if you never forgive me. Even if you never look at me the same way again."

Adam’s head spun, each word sinking into him like a weight too heavy to bear. The world around him blurred, the air thick with the oppressive weight of Lucifer’s confession, like it was suffocating him. He couldn’t breathe. His vision swayed, and his stomach churned as the words rattled around in his skull, refusing to make sense. The dizziness spun faster, each thought, each memory twisting with the harsh sting of betrayal, of love, of something he wasn’t sure he could comprehend.

His heart raced, thudding in his chest as he struggled to make sense of what Lucifer had said. It was all too much. Too much too fast. His body felt like it was collapsing under the weight of it all. He felt like he might throw up, the bile rising in his throat as his ears rang with the frantic urgency in Lucifer’s voice.

“Please… please just say something…” The desperation in Lucifer’s tone cut through him, the rawness, the pleading, but Adam couldn’t respond.

Not yet. His mouth was dry, his lips cracked and sore. He didn’t know what to say. The world felt like it was slipping out of focus, and he was slipping with it.

"I..." Adam started; his voice rough, hoarse as it cracked under the weight of his confusion. The words felt like they were choking him, each syllable heavier than the last. The air was thick with tension, every breath seeming to get caught in his throat.

Lucifer’s breath hitched at the sound of Adam’s voice, a flicker of hope crossing his tear-streaked face. He crawled closer, moving desperately, frantically to Adam’s side. He dropped to his knees, his hands trembling as they cupped Adam’s face, leaning in, begging.

"Yes? Yes? What is it, Addie? Please—please, just tell me! I’ll do anything. Anything, just please don’t leave me." His voice cracked, raw with emotion, desperate to cling to whatever shred of connection he could.

Adam’s heart hammered in his chest, but his mind couldn’t follow. His thoughts were a jumbled mess. He wanted to say something. Anything. But his body felt like it was betraying him, and his voice wouldn’t come.

"I’m..." Adam paused, his words choking him, his tongue feeling thick in his mouth.

He tried to lick his lips, but they were too dry, stinging as the movement scraped painfully against his cracked skin. His whole body flinched, the reality of the situation crashing down on him. This was it, wasn’t it? This was the moment everything changed. His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, his vision fuzzy and out of focus.

"I’m going home," he finally mumbled, his voice little more than a whisper, but it felt like it echoed in the space between them. It hung in the air like a bitter truth that neither of them was ready to face.

Lucifer’s eyes, swollen and red from crying, widened in shock, his breath coming in short, panicked gasps. He blinked rapidly, like trying to dispel the words Adam had just said, as if they were some kind of cruel trick.

"What? No, Addie, please..." His voice broke, desperate, like a man clinging to the last thread of hope. "You’re... you’re leaving? You’re really going?"

His hands scrambled for Adam, reaching out, his fingers grazing the wet fabric of Adam’s hoodie. But it was like he couldn’t hold on. His fingers slipped uselessly down Adam’s arm, helpless, unable to stop him.

The panic hit him then—raw, unfiltered, and fierce. It was an acid-hot flare that shot through his chest, making his heart skip a beat, making his limbs feel numb.

"Addie!" Lucifer cried out, his voice a ragged sob. His hands reached out again, this time grabbing onto Adam’s arm, tugging at him with a desperation that bordered on madness. "Please! Please don’t leave me!"

He scrambled on his knees, his body trembling as he tried to pull Adam back. "I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, Addie! Please don’t leave me! Don’t hate me! I love you, I love you so much!"

His voice was breaking, his chest heaving with each painful breath, as if the words themselves were choking him. "Hit me! Push me around! Scream at me, yell at me! Anything, Addie! Just—just don’t leave me again!"

Lucifer’s tears fell freely now, streaking down his face, his sobs wracking his fragile form as he clung to Adam’s arm, his fingers shaking as he begged. The guilt, the self-loathing, the fear of losing Adam—everything crashed down on him at once. And all he could do was beg. Beg for Adam to stay. Beg for another chance. Beg for forgiveness, though he knew deep down that he didn’t deserve it.

"Please… don’t leave me. I’ll do anything... anything you want. Just please—" Lucifer gasped for air, his words stuttering as the overwhelming weight of his own pain consumed him. He pressed his forehead to Adam’s arm, as if trying to ground himself, trying to hold onto whatever piece of Adam was still there, still with him.

 "I’m so sorry, Addie. Please, please don’t leave me…"

The plea hung in the air between them, trembling with the raw ache of a love that had been both a gift and a curse. Lucifer was drowning in his own regret, in his own twisted need, and Adam, standing there, seemed like the only thing keeping him from completely unravelling.

But Adam… Adam wasn’t speaking. He wasn’t even looking at Lucifer anymore. And in that silence, in that hollow emptiness, Lucifer realized he may have already lost him.

Lucifer's fingers slipped down Adam’s arm, cold and trembling. He felt himself losing his grip, but he curled his hands desperately around Adam’s, clinging to him like a lifeline, his fingers shaking as he held on with both of his, trying to keep Adam close. His hands were so cold, his skin almost numb, but the warmth of Adam’s hand was all he needed, all he could focus on. His breathing hitched, a soft whimper escaping his lips as he gazed up at Adam with wide, tear-blurred eyes.

"Please, Adam..." Lucifer begged, his voice cracking, the words tumbling out in a broken plea. "Please, Addie... I’ll do anything you want. I won’t complain. I won’t say a single word against whatever you demand. You can hit me, hurt me, use me. I don’t care. I don’t care what you do to do, I don’t care if you use my body or beat me. Just don’t leave me, please."

His words were desperate, pitiful, his whole body trembling as if it might shatter into a thousand pieces under the weight of his own guilt. He sniffled, his chest tight with emotion as he gazed up at Adam, his eyes frantically trying to meet his green ones.

But Adam didn’t look down at him. Adam’s face remained a distant blur, the cool night air surrounding them thick with silence, broken only by the occasional crack of thunder in the distance. Lucifer’s eyes burned, still searching, his fingers tightening on Adam’s hand, trying to force him to look, to see how badly he needed him, how badly he was crumbling without him.

The sky cracked with a thunderous roar as the last remnants of the sun disappeared behind the mountains. And then, the rain fell.

It came quickly, heavy and unforgiving, soaking them both in an instant. The first drops hit Lucifer’s skin, cold and stinging. He didn’t flinch. Neither of them did. Adam didn’t flinch, even as the rain washed away the dirt and grime, the remnants of their pasts, their history, their brokenness. The only thing that moved was Lucifer’s grip, tightening on Adam’s hand, curling around it like a desperate plea to stop the world from crumbling.

The bonfire flickered out behind them, the flames extinguished by the rain, leaving behind only the distant murmurs of disappointed voices, the sound of people leaving, the sound of them moving on. Nobody walked their way. Nobody came to save them.

"Adam..." Lucifer called again, his voice broken, rasping, barely audible over the storm.

His chest tightened with the weight of everything unsaid, everything that had been built between them. Adam finally blinked, turning his head, his gaze falling on the other omega.

Lucifer was still on his knees, his clothes soaked, the mud clinging to him like a second skin. His eyes, once so bright, now looked dim, dull with the pain of everything he had kept hidden. His red-rimmed eyes were framed by the red carnation and apple crown—still there, still a symbol of their bond, even as everything else unravelled. Lucifer’s breath hitched as he looked up at Adam, trying, so desperately, to meet his gaze.

“A-Addie…” Lucifer breathed, the words a shudder, a sob that caught in his throat. He looked at Adam, his heart thundering in his chest as the rain fell harder, drenching them both.

"Do you hate me, Addie?" The words slipped from his mouth in a soft, fragile whisper, but it felt like they cut through him like a blade. "Do you hate me?"

Adam’s lips parted slightly, and Lucifer’s chest constricted with fear, but Adam didn’t answer. Instead, Adam spoke the words that sent a jolt through Lucifer’s heart.

"I’m going home now."

Lucifer’s world shattered. He didn’t say that he didn’t hate him. He didn’t say anything to assure him. Lucifer’s chest tightened, a sick, burning pain spreading through him like a wildfire, searing his heart.

"Adam, please..." Lucifer sobbed, his voice ragged, his hand still clinging to Adam’s. "Please, don’t leave me… I’m so sorry, Addie... I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was selfish. Please don’t leave me alone."

Adam didn’t respond. He simply shifted, his hand pulling from Lucifer’s grip, the movement sharp and cold. Lucifer’s eyes widened in panic as Adam began to step away, his hand slipping from Lucifer’s grasp. Lucifer struggled to hold on, squirming on his knees, trying to keep his fingers wrapped around Adam’s, his nails digging into Adam’s skin as he tried to anchor himself.

"Please, Adam! Please! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!" Lucifer’s voice cracked with each frantic plea, his breath coming in sobs. "Please don’t leave me again. Please, please, Addie!"

But Adam pulled away, harder this time, his hand slipping free with a final, painful yank. Lucifer’s nails scraped across Adam’s skin, leaving shallow marks as his body trembled with the shock of it. Adam stumbled back, his foot slipping in the mud before he braced himself against a tree, but Lucifer didn’t stop. His eyes followed Adam’s every movement, his heart hammering in his chest.

The rain continued to fall, heavier now, soaking both of them to the bone.

Adam blinked down at Lucifer, his gaze hard, distant, unyielding. Neither spoke, their silence louder than any words could be. The thunder rolled again, louder this time, and the rain turned into sheets of water, pelting them both. Adam took a step back, his voice cold and hard, final.

"I’m going home. You should do the same."

And without another word, Adam turned, walking away from Lucifer, leaving him behind, alone in the rain.

Lucifer’s breath caught in his throat, the cold air stinging his lungs. His mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. His body trembled, his hands shaking as he crawled forward, dragging himself through the mud. He moved inch by inch, desperate, pleading without a voice, hoping, praying that Adam would turn back. But Adam didn’t.

Adam didn’t look back.

Lucifer stopped, his hands shaking in the mud, his body crumpling into the ground as his sobs wracked his body. His chest burned with the weight of everything—his guilt, his love, his fear.

This wasn’t how it was meant to happen. This wasn’t how it was meant to end.

His sobs were broken, gasping, choking on his own tears.

"I’m so sorry," he whispered into the rain, his voice barely audible over the storm. "I’m so sorry, Addie… Please… don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me alone…"

But the only answer was the rain, the distant sound of footsteps fading away, and the cold, empty space between them that grew larger with each passing second. And Lucifer, broken and lost, sank deeper into the mud, crumbling under the weight of everything he had done, everything he had lost.

“Please come back.”

~#~

The following days felt like a blur to Adam, a fog of sickness and exhaustion that seemed to swallow him whole. Every step he took, every breath he drew, was heavy—each one a burden he couldn’t escape. He felt like he was moving in slow motion, like he was walking through a world where everything was muted, stripped of color, drained of meaning. It was as though the weight of the rain, of the words, of the pain, had followed him inside, seeping into his bones.

Of course, he was sick. He had always been fragile, always too soft, too weak for this world. Omegas were always the ones who couldn’t weather the storms. And the storm that had ravaged him, that had torn through his heart just hours earlier, had left its mark.

The moment Adam stepped inside his small, cramped flat, he collapsed onto his bed without so much as a thought. His body, drenched in cold rain, felt too heavy to move, too numb to care. His eyes were raw from crying, his throat sore, and his heart... His heart was empty, a hollow ache where love used to live. He didn’t bother to strip off his damp clothes or get under the covers; he didn’t care. He just lay there, the weight of everything pressing down on him.

He woke hours later, still fully clothed, lying atop the thick quilt he usually found comfort in. His head pounded with a ferocity that made him wish the world would just stop. The air was thick, suffocating, and he could feel the fever creeping over him. His body felt feverish, his skin flushed and sticky. He tried to push himself up, but everything was too much, too overwhelming. The slightest movement caused his stomach to churn, and he sank back down, the cold sting of the wet clothes against his skin only reminding him of how broken he truly felt.

And so, the next few days passed in a haze. He could barely lift his head from the pillow, too weak to even get up to go to the bathroom. He called in sick to work—his voice barely a whisper when he spoke, cracking under the weight of exhaustion and fever.

The days stretched on, blending into one another, marked only by the incessant ringing in his head, the sickening throb that pulsed behind his eyes. He couldn’t remember when it had started, but the pain felt like it would never end. It was like the rain, the loss, the betrayal, had all settled into his body, turning it against him, twisting his insides into something unrecognizable. He wanted to escape it, to make it stop, but there was no escape. Not from the sickness. Not from himself.

Finally, after what felt like days of lying in a fevered stupor, Adam forced himself to sit up. His body protested, every joint aching, every muscle weak, but he couldn’t lay there any longer. He had to get up, to find some kind of relief. His legs shook as he swung them off the bed, but his knees buckled beneath him, and he had to catch himself against the edge of the nightstand.

The room was spinning.

Adam’s breaths came in ragged gasps as he pushed himself upright, fighting to stay steady on his feet. The thumping in his skull intensified with each step he took, like a drumbeat in his mind. Every footfall echoed in his ears, reverberating through his body like a slow, painful torture. He stumbled, barely managing to catch himself against the bathroom doorframe.

His vision blurred as he reached for the door handle, but it was as if the world was playing tricks on him—spinning, distorting, twisting. He barely registered the bathroom as he stumbled forward, his legs threatening to give out again. He had to sit down, just for a moment, just to catch his breath, just to stop the world from spinning.

With a shaky hand, he lowered himself onto the closed toilet lid, too weak to make it to the bathroom counter. The ringing in his ears was unbearable now, the room swimming around him. He put his head in his hands, trying to steady himself. His heart pounded erratically, too fast, too loud. But the dizziness wouldn't subside.

He forced himself to open his eyes, blinking hard as he reached for the cupboard above the sink. His fingers were numb, trembling as they brushed against the cold bottles of flu medication. The world around him shifted again, everything sliding out of focus. He couldn’t tell if he was standing or sitting or if his body was still somewhere between the two. But eventually, after what felt like an eternity, his fingers found the bottle he needed.

He clutched the pill bottle in his hands, his grip weak, and brought it to his lips, swallowing the pills without a second thought. It didn’t matter that his throat burned, or that he couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten something. The fever, the pain, the emptiness—it was all too much, and the only thing he could do was force something into his body, hope it helped, hope it numbed the ache that was consuming him.

But even as he swallowed the medication, it felt like nothing would ever help. It felt like there was no escape from the hollow pit inside his chest, the darkness that had taken root ever since he left Lucifer behind.

His whole body trembled as he finally lowered the bottle, the cold sinking deep into his bones. He leaned against the bathroom wall, his eyes heavy, the dizziness so intense it felt like he might fall over. The room seemed to close in on him, and he sank back against the tile, curling up on the floor as the world spun faster, faster, until he could no longer tell where the pain ended, and the exhaustion began.

But it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered anymore. He was alone, lost in his own sickness, too weak to fight, too broken to care. The world outside could keep turning, could keep spinning. But Adam couldn’t.

Not anymore.

The next day, Adam woke in his bed, his body still weak but no longer consumed by the fever. The fog in his head had begun to clear, though the thudding ache that had plagued him since the night of the bonfire lingered, a dull reminder of everything he had pushed to the back of his mind. He rubbed his face with a groan, the rough stubble catching against his palm. Shifting beneath the quilts, he sat up slowly, testing his balance, feeling the familiar ache in his muscles from having been bedridden for so long. He wasn’t dizzy anymore. The thundering pulse in his head had softened to a dull throb, like distant thunder that still rumbled but didn’t seem to threaten a storm.

A deep sigh escaped him as he tilted his head toward the bedroom window. His green eyes—once so full of light—were dim now, their spark having dulled. The rain still pattered down, soft but steady, against the glass. The sky was a heavy grey, and the air felt colder, a clear sign that summer had finally given in to autumn.

Ah. Summer was officially over now.

Adam’s mind replayed the memory of the bonfire—the way it had felt like a farewell, a final chapter in something he had never fully understood. The bonfire had always been the closing of summer, the marking of a transition. And yet, it felt more like an end than just a season changing.

He ran a hand through his disheveled hair and grimaced, the tangling strands only adding to the discomfort. He needed a shower, a clean start, something to wash away the sickly weight of everything that had happened. He needed to do something, anything, to feel like himself again. Go back to work, face the world—just move.

Adam squeezed his eyes shut for five long minutes, hoping to push the thoughts of Lucifer from his mind. But they were persistent. They kept returning, over and over again, until he couldn’t ignore them anymore. So, with a strained sigh, he slipped out of bed, stumbling slightly as his legs wobbled beneath him. He felt weak, exhausted, like he was dragging himself through a haze. He hadn’t been up for more than a few minutes when his knees threatened to buckle. His body felt like it had been drained of life.

He wandered aimlessly through his small flat, the familiar space feeling foreign, as if it wasn’t even his anymore. The routine actions felt automatic—he showered, brushed his teeth, dressed. He didn’t really pay attention to what he was doing, his mind too occupied with the tangled mess inside his chest.

But then, as he turned toward the chest of drawers to grab socks, something caught his eye. He froze.

There, atop the drawers, were the photo frames. His heart seemed to stop. His green eyes locked onto them, the familiar warmth of those images striking him like a cold wave. He felt something tight in his throat as he stepped closer, his fingers trembling. He knew what they were before he even looked.

It was the photographs. The ones he had kept. The ones he had never been able to throw away, even after everything.

Adam’s lips pressed into a thin line as he stood there, gazing at the collection of memories. The first photo was of him and Lucifer—two little boys, beaming at the camera. Adam’s smile was wide, almost too big for his face, his eyes sparkling with the thrill of being so grown-up on their first day of primary school. Lucifer was pressed against him, holding onto Adam’s school sweater with his tiny, trembling fingers. He looked so small, so shy compared to Adam’s excited expression.

Ah, Adam remembered. It was their first day at school. Neither of them had known anything about alphas, omegas, or betas then. It was just Adam and Lucifer. Two best friends, inseparable, happy. Just kids. There was a red carnation pinned to each of their sweaters—signaling that they were unpresented, still unaware of the world beyond their small, perfect little bubble.

He moved to the next photo. It was the same—Lucifer beside him. But this one was taken after Lucifer had presented as an omega. Adam’s heart clenched in his chest as he studied the image. He could see the sadness in Lucifer’s eyes that Adam hadn’t noticed at the time. Back then, he had promised to look after him, to take care of him. Lucifer’s family had turned their backs on him when he presented, but Adam hadn’t known how deep the hurt went. He only knew that Lucifer needed him. And so, Lucifer stayed with them, with Adam’s family, because his own had rejected him.

Adam swallowed hard, his throat tight as he stared at the next photo. This one was of him and Lucifer, holding sparklers on a summer night, fireworks lighting up the sky behind them. The moment was magical, the kind of simple happiness only childhood could offer. But there, in that photo, Adam had never noticed that Lucifer’s eyes weren’t looking at the fireworks. They were looking at him, his face tilted ever so slightly toward Adam, his eyes soft and full of something Adam hadn’t understood until now.

In the next photo, Adam could see the difference. He had presented as an omega, his arms around Lucifer in a tight, protective hug. Adam’s mom was between them, squeezing them both into a warm embrace. Lucifer’s cheeks were blushed, his fingers curled into the bottom of Adam’s oversized hoodie. The moment had been filled with so much joy—love, in its purest form. But looking at it now, Adam saw the way Lucifer’s gaze lingered on him. He was always looking at him. Always.

It hit him harder than he expected—the realization that Lucifer had been holding on to him all along. Every moment, every memory.

But then he picked up the last photo—the one taken before Eve and before Lute. It was of them sitting on a fallen log, wearing their familiar carnation and apple flower crowns. It had been taken at Adam’s grandpa’s birthday. And in that photo, Lucifer was pressed up against Adam’s side, his arms wrapped around Adam’s, his face beaming with happiness, his head leaning against Adam’s.

The image was so full of warmth. So full of love.

Adam let out a breath, his fingers brushing over their faces. He had kept these photos all these years. Even after Eve and Lute, he had never thrown them away. They were all he had left. The only tangible pieces of the bond he and Lucifer had shared.

“Lucifer loves me?” Adam whispered, staring down at the photograph in his hand.

His eyes flickered between the other photos, the truth settling into his bones like a stone. He put the picture back down, his hands shaking as he stood up and pulled a box from beneath the chest of drawers. Inside, there was an album. A collection of photos of them—so many of Lucifer by himself, so many where Lucifer was looking at him, always touching him, always holding on to him, his fingers curled into Adam’s clothing. Always the same—Lucifer was smiling, but it was the way he looked at Adam that spoke louder than anything.

The realization hit him like a slap to the face.

“Holy shit.” Adam whispered to himself, running a hand through his hair. “How didn’t I see it?”

It was so obvious now. How had he missed it? Lucifer had been in love with him for so long, and Adam had been blind to it. Every sign was there in the photographs. All those times he had smiled at them, never noticing the tenderness in Lucifer’s gaze. The way Lucifer had always looked at him. Always reaching out to him. Always seeking contact with him.

Lucifer had been in love with him.

And Adam had never seen it.

Adam sat back heavily on the edge of his bed; the photo album still open in his hands. His fingers trembled as he stared down at the images, the weight of the truth finally crashing down on him. Lucifer had loved him. Had always loved him. How had he not seen it before? How had he been so blind to it?

His mind raced as the pieces began to fall into place, one after another. Suddenly, everything made sense—the way Lucifer always sought out his touch, always needed to be close to him. Adam’s stomach churned as the memories flooded in, sharp and painful, like a thousand cuts.

Lucifer had never used the bed his mama had set up for him when he stayed at Adam’s house. It was because Lucifer liked being with him. It was because Lucifer wanted to be close to him, wanted to be near him every single night. He had always shared Adam’s bed, even though he had a perfectly good one of his own.

The same way Lucifer had never built his own nest, always choosing to settle within Adam’s. They had shared a space for so long, but it had never clicked. Adam had thought it was just how things were between them—comfortable, natural. He had never questioned it. Why would he? It was just them.

But now... now it felt like a slap to the face. Lucifer had never wanted anything of his own. All the things Adam had taken for granted, all the small signs that had been so obvious in hindsight, came crashing down on him. The way Lucifer always wanted to hold his hand, the way he would slide closer during the nights they spent watching movies, the way his arms would wrap around Adam whenever they slept. Always so close. Always seeking the warmth of his touch.

Even when they’d gone to college, when they’d shared a dorm room, Lucifer had never used his own space. Adam’s heart twisted. He had always thought it was because they were best friends. It seemed natural that they would share a room. But Lucifer had his own room. He had his own bed. Yet, he had chosen to sleep in Adam’s. He had never even made an attempt to build a nest of his own.

And then there were the clothes. Adam had always thought it was endearing how Lucifer would borrow his things. His oversized hoodies, his shirts, even his underwear. It had never bothered him, not once. It was just the way they were. But now, it was so obvious. Lucifer hadn’t just borrowed his things because they were comfortable or because he didn’t have his own. No. He’d taken them because he wanted to have something of Adam’s, something that would tie him to Adam. in ways Adam hadn’t understood.

The underwear.

Adam's chest tightened as he recalled how, on more than one occasion, his underwear had gone missing. He’d chalked it up to losing them, forgetting where he had put them. But they would always turn up—clean and freshly folded, as if Lucifer had been taking care of them. It had never occurred to him, not once, that Lucifer had been using them.

Omegas.

Adam’s stomach lurched. Omegas were known for doing that. They would take the clothes, the underwear, of the one they loved, the one they wanted to mate with. They would wear them in secret, to be close to their scent, to feel their presence when their mate wasn’t there. Use them during their intimate moments alone. That’s what Lucifer had been doing all along. Taking Adam’s things, wearing them like a silent confession and using them to bring himself sweet relief.

Of course, Lucifer had been in love with him.

It wasn’t just the clothing. It wasn’t just the subtle touches or the constant closeness. It was everything. It was in the way Lucifer had always smelled—like apples. That sweetness, that warmth that clung to him, the pheromones that Adam had noticed but had never thought twice about. Lucifer always released it whenever they were together, mingling it with Adam’s own pheromones. They were there, every day. The scent that lingered in the air, the one that made Adam’s heartbeat faster, that made him feel at ease when Lucifer was nearby.

All of these were telltale signs of an Omega in love. Signs of an Omega that were presenting themselves to their chosen mate. Signs of an Omega that wanted to spread their legs for that certain person.

Adam felt dizzy, like the world had tilted on its axis. All this time, all these years, and he hadn’t seen it. The way Lucifer had loved him—always, so silently, so quietly. He had been right in front of him, all along. The signs had been there, just waiting for Adam to wake up. But he had been too blind to see.

He clutched the photo album to his chest, the weight of the photographs suddenly unbearable. The truth had settled deep inside him, making him feel like he was suffocating. He couldn’t breathe. He had missed every single sign.

Lucifer had loved him for so long.

And Adam had never once realized.

"How... how could I have been so stupid?" he whispered to himself, his voice breaking.

He felt the sting of tears that threatened to spill, but he quickly wiped them away, anger bubbling up inside him. Anger at himself. Anger at everything.

Adam exhaled deeply, a shuddering breath that felt like it carried years of buried frustration and confusion. He set the photograph down with care, his fingertips lingering on the frame as if it held all the answers he so desperately sought. But no answers came. Only silence.

"Does it excuse everything?" Adam murmured to himself, his voice barely above a whisper. He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his head cradled in his hands. The questions churned in his mind like a storm, chaotic and relentless.

Lucifer had gone after Lilith. Not because he liked her, not because he wanted her, but because Adam did. Adam had confessed his crush on Lilith, and Lucifer had turned it into a game—a cruel, heartless game. To break her heart, Adam guessed. Or was it more than that? Was it to ensure that Lilith couldn’t like Adam back? That she wouldn’t be a threat to Lucifer’s unspoken claim on him?

The thought made Adam’s stomach twist. It didn’t make sense. None of it did.

"Why?" he asked the empty room. "Why would you do that?"

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to untangle the mess of his thoughts. But the knots only tightened. Lucifer hadn’t stopped with Lilith. No, he’d kept playing, even after Adam had told him about Lute. Lucifer had twisted the game into something else entirely—something darker. He had gone after Lute too, spinning her into the web of manipulation, breaking her heart, just as he’d done with Lilith.

"To keep me for himself," Adam muttered bitterly, the words like ash in his mouth.

That had to be it. Lucifer had wanted Adam to stay unattached, to be his and his alone. But at what cost? At what fucking cost?

Adam’s hands clenched into fists on his thighs as he thought of Eve. His first girlfriend. She had known. She had seen what Adam had been too blind to see. Eve had claimed she could fix Lucifer, that she could help him. Eve was the same as Lucifer. Both were twisted and fucked up.

"Why do all this shit?" Adam asked aloud, his voice trembling with frustration. "Why play with so many people's emotions? Why play these fucked-up games, Luci? Why?"

He stared down at the photograph of them again, his eyes lingering on Lucifer's shy smile, the way his hands were always reaching for Adam in every picture. He traced a finger over Lucifer's face, his touch light and hesitant, as if the photograph could shatter under the weight of his emotions.

"When I told you about Lilith..." Adam began, his voice cracking. "Why didn’t you just tell me then? Why didn’t you say you had feelings for me? Why didn’t you tell me after Lilith? After Eve? After Lute? Why didn’t you just... say something?"

But the photograph, of course, gave no answer.

Adam groaned deeply, dropping his head into his hands again. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what to think. The weight of everything—Lucifer’s love, his manipulations, his brokenness—was crushing him. It made him feel sick all over again.

Lucifer’s games had destroyed so much. They had ruined Adam’s self-worth, leaving him to question if he was the problem, if he was the reason no one wanted him. Adam had spiraled so deeply into that despair, into that darkness, that he had walked into the lake, ready to end it all. Ready to drown the pain, the doubt, the hopelessness, in the cold, black water.

Because of Lucifer.

Because of the person Adam had trusted more than anyone else in the world. His best friend. His partner in everything. The one person who was supposed to stand by him, to protect him, to love him without causing harm. And yet... Lucifer’s love had nearly destroyed him.

Adam rubbed his eyes, his fingers digging into his temples as if he could rub away the memories, the pain.

"What am I supposed to do now?" he whispered, his voice breaking under the weight of his anguish.

He tilted his head back, staring up at the ceiling. The room was quiet except for the rhythmic patter of rain against the window. It should have been soothing, but it wasn’t. Not now.

Lucifer was toxic. Unguided. Poisonous in ways Adam couldn’t ignore. But Adam knew him. He knew the boy who had clung to him as a child, who had sought comfort and safety in his arms. Lucifer wasn’t just toxic; he was broken, a mess of confusion and desperation.

Adam sighed again, his heart aching in his chest.

"You’re a mess, Luci," he whispered. "And you broke me too."

But the worst part was, even now, after everything, Adam wasn’t sure he could let him go.

…but one thing was for sure.

“I need fucking therapy.”

~#~

Adam didn’t want to return to work. The thought of stepping into the sterile monotony of his office after spending a day buried in the comforting haze of nostalgia filled him with a heavy sense of dread. But he had no choice. Duty called, and reality was relentless.

The previous day had been bittersweet hours lost flipping through yellowing pages of family albums, each photo tugging at a thread in his heart. The images stirred memories of laughter and warmth; a life far removed from the cold void he now felt. It helped, just a little. He felt lighter, though still clouded, like a man who had glimpsed sunlight after weeks of rain but couldn’t quite leave the storm behind.

Standing in his small, dimly lit flat, Adam adjusted the strap of his shoulder bag and meticulously checked his coat pockets. Wallet, keys, phone—it was all there, though his movements were slow, as if his body resisted the inevitability of the day ahead. With a sigh, he stepped out into the hallway, the door clicking shut behind him.

As he fumbled with the lock, a voice—small, trembling, and achingly familiar—broke the silence.

“A-Adam?”

His heart froze. The muscles in his shoulders tensed as if his body braced for a blow. Slowly, he turned his head.

Lucifer stood a few feet away, an awkward figure bathed in the pale overhead light of the corridor. He looked... wrong. His golden hair, usually neat and shining, was tangled and matted, clinging to his clammy skin. His eyes, a piercing blue that once sparkled with mischief and charm, now seemed hollow, ringed with dark shadows that told of sleepless nights. He wore a red-and-orange hoodie, the zipper slightly askew, paired with torn jeans. It was a far cry from the polished image Adam had always associated with him—the tailored coats, the crisp shirts, the air of effortless elegance.

Lucifer fidgeted under Adam’s gaze, shifting his weight from foot to foot like a schoolboy caught doing something wrong. His fragile state stirred something deep and instinctive within Adam—a protective urge he thought he’d buried. He wanted to pull Lucifer into the warmth of his flat, wrap him in a blanket, and shield him from the world.

But he couldn’t.

He swallowed hard, forcing those feelings down like bitter medicine. The past was a battlefield littered with betrayal, and he wasn’t ready to wade into it again. Adjusting the strap of his bag, he began to walk toward Lucifer, his footsteps echoing in the silence.

“Adam, I…” Lucifer’s voice cracked, his gaze darting everywhere but at Adam.

Adam didn’t stop. He brushed past him, the cold space between them cutting sharper than a blade. Lucifer let out a strangled noise, his hand shooting out to grab Adam’s arm. But his grip faltered, his fingers sliding off the fabric of Adam’s jacket as if even touch betrayed him.

Adam clenched his jaw, refusing to look back. He felt the weight of Lucifer’s presence behind him, the silence heavy with words neither of them could say.

Lucifer’s head dropped, his blonde hair falling into his face as he stared at his scuffed sneakers.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, the words barely audible.

Guilt churned in Adam’s stomach, sharp and unrelenting. He wanted to turn around, wanted to wrap his arms around Lucifer and tell him it was okay, that he forgave him. But it wasn’t okay. Not yet.

Not after everything.

The memories of their past were a tangled knot of love and resentment. Lucifer had been everything to him once—his best friend, his confidant, the one person he thought he could trust with his whole heart. But that trust had been shattered when he discovered the truth: Lucifer, with his silver tongue and easy smile, had betrayed him in the worst way imaginable. Eve.

For years, Adam had been drowning in those emotions—love and hate, devotion and bitterness—all blending together into a storm that refused to settle. And now, standing in this cold, narrow corridor, those feelings surged back with a vengeance.

He tightened his grip on the strap of his bag and kept walking. His pace quickened, each step feeling heavier than the last. He wasn’t ready to face the past, wasn’t ready to confront the raw, bleeding wound that was Lucifer.

Behind him, Lucifer’s soft voice carried through the air one last time, fragile and desperate.

“Please… don’t leave me again.”

Adam’s heart ached, the words striking a chord he wasn’t ready to acknowledge. He faltered for a moment, his steps slowing, but he didn’t stop.

Not today.

Adam’s walk to Abbey Road Studios was brisk and quiet, the chill of the morning air biting against his cheeks. The streets of London had a subdued hum at this hour, the soft rustle of leaves and occasional distant rumble of a bus breaking the silence. His mind raced, though he kept his head down, focusing on the rhythm of his footsteps instead of the chaos within him.

By the time the iconic red brick facade of Abbey Road Studios loomed into view, a faint pang of nostalgia rippled through him. It was a place steeped in history, its legacy felt in every brick, every shadow. Despite the turmoil of the morning, being here never failed to stir a quiet sense of pride in Adam.

He stopped just before the entrance, pulling out his lanyard from his bag. The ID card, marked with his photograph and the words Associate Creative Producer, swung lightly as he slipped it over his head. Adam wasn’t at the top of the ladder, not by a long shot, but he had carved out a solid place for himself in the hierarchy. His voice carried weight in meetings, his ideas often nudging projects into new and exciting directions. He wasn’t just another cog in the machine—he mattered.

The glass doors slid open with a soft hiss as Adam stepped inside, the warmth of the lobby enveloping him immediately. Behind the sleek reception desk sat a beta woman with dark hair neatly pinned into a bun. She looked up from her computer, her lips curving into a polite smile.

“Morning, Adam,” she said, her tone cheery.

“Morning, Sophie.” Adam returned her smile with a quick, practiced grin, the kind that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He tapped his lanyard against the scanner by the counter and continued deeper into the building.

The corridors of Abbey Road Studios were a marvel, an intricate blend of history and modernity. The air smelled faintly of polished wood and coffee, an oddly comforting combination. Lining the walls were golden-framed posters of the bands and artists who had recorded here—icons immortalized in vibrant stills.

To his left, a photo of The Beatles captured their electric energy in the midst of a recording session, their eyes alight with determination. Beneath it, a plaque boasted details of their legendary record deal, signed within these very walls. Further down, another frame displayed a moody black-and-white image of Pink Floyd, the caption below marking the creation of The Dark Side of the Moon.

Each image seemed to whisper stories of triumphs and struggles, the magic that turned melodies into masterpieces. Adam’s eyes drifted over a more recent addition—a shot of a young, wild-eyed indie band holding their platinum record proudly. He had been part of that project, his suggestions helping to refine their raw sound into something that resonated with millions.

He allowed himself a flicker of pride before moving on.

The studios were a maze of recording rooms, editing bays, and conference spaces, the air humming faintly with the distant strains of instruments and voices. Adam passed by a sound engineer bent over a mixing console, their headphones askew as they worked. A group of session musicians laughed over steaming cups of tea near a vending machine, their camaraderie infectious.

He finally reached his destination—a mid-sized conference room tucked behind a frosted glass door. Pushing it open, Adam stepped inside, greeted by the familiar sight of the creative team already gathered around the long, sleek table. The walls here were bare except for an acoustic panel and a digital screen displaying the agenda for today’s meeting:

Project Rewind: Pre-Launch Strategy

“Adam! Just in time,” called James, the head producer, his voice warm but brisk. “We’re diving into the campaign rollout. Got a seat for you here.”

Adam slid into the chair offered, setting his bag down by his feet. As he pulled out his notepad and pen, he felt the eyes of his colleagues on him, some nodding in acknowledgment, others already lost in their tablets and documents.

He took a deep breath, forcing his personal turmoil to the back of his mind. Here, in this room, his thoughts mattered. His opinions shaped music that would someday line these golden-framed walls.

For now, that had to be enough.

The meeting was already in full swing when the door opened again, and someone entered. Adam didn’t notice at first, focused as he was on the agenda displayed on the screen. But then the room shifted—the air itself seemed to grow charged, and Adam’s head snapped up.

There she was.

Lilith.

Time slowed as she stepped into the room, her heels clicking softly against the polished floor. She was breathtaking, just as he remembered. Her thick, golden hair cascaded down her back in waves, catching the light like spun silk. Her piercing blue eyes, sharp and impossibly clear, swept over the room with practiced confidence, taking in the faces around the table as if she owned the very air they breathed. She was dressed impeccably in a tailored cream blazer and slacks, paired with delicate gold jewelry that glinted against her tan skin.

Adam felt like he’d been punched in the gut.

It had been years since he’d last seen her, and yet the sight of her sent an avalanche of emotions crashing through him—shock, confusion, a hint of anger, and an undeniable, unwelcome spark of admiration.

“Good morning,” Lilith said, her voice smooth and commanding as she strode to the front of the room. “Thank you all for being here. I’m Lilith Faulkner, head of partnerships at Horizon Entertainment.”

Horizon Entertainment. Of course. The name alone carried weight in the industry, their talent roster a who’s who of the most influential artists in the world. This was the partner Abbey Road had been courting for months, the collaboration that could redefine the studio’s place in the modern music landscape. And she—she—was their point of contact.

“Let’s make this a productive meeting,” Lilith continued, setting her leather-bound portfolio on the table and flashing a polite smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I believe we’re all here for the same reason: to create something unforgettable.”

Adam swallowed hard, his throat dry. He barely registered the introductions and opening remarks, barely heard James laying out the studio’s goals for the partnership. His focus kept drifting back to Lilith. She was poised, professional, every inch the powerhouse executive she’d always aspired to be.

And she hadn’t looked at him once.

“Adam,” James said, jolting him out of his thoughts. “You’ve had a lot of input on the campaign strategy for Project Rewind. Why don’t you walk us through the highlights?”

Adam blinked, forcing himself to sit straighter.

“Of course,” he said, his voice steady despite the whirlwind inside him. He leaned forward, pulling up the files on his tablet and launching into a detailed breakdown of the marketing approach. He felt Lilith’s eyes on him now, sharp and assessing, but he didn’t falter.

he discussion carried on with brisk efficiency, both sides exchanging ideas and ironing out details. Adam spoke when needed, keeping his tone measured and his demeanor calm, though his pulse raced every time Lilith addressed him directly. She was polite, her questions thoughtful, her praise sparse but genuine. They were professionals—nothing more, nothing less.

When the meeting finally adjourned, Adam didn’t linger.

The moment he had a chance, he slipped out of the room, his steps quick and purposeful. He didn’t know where he was going, only that he needed to get away. Away from the conference room, away from Lilith, away from the unbearable knot tightening in his chest.

He found himself on the bottom floor of the studio, where the air was cooler and quieter. A private booth in the corner caught his eye, its small table and cushioned bench tucked away from prying eyes. Adam slid inside and collapsed onto the seat, his elbows hitting the table as he buried his head in his arms.

A groan escaped him, muffled by his sleeves.

Everything was a mess.

Seeing Lilith again had reopened wounds he hadn’t realized were still raw. Her presence alone had stirred up memories of a time when things were simpler, when their lives had been intertwined in ways that felt unbreakable. And yet, here they were—strangers in a professional setting, pretending the past didn’t exist.

The timing couldn’t have been worse. He was still reeling from the truth about Lucifer, from the lies and betrayals that had fractured everything he thought he knew. And now Lilith—beautiful, powerful, untouchable Lilith—had reappeared like a ghost from another life.

Adam clenched his fists, his knuckles pressing into the soft leather of the booth. He felt unmoored, as though the ground beneath him had shifted and he was scrambling to find his footing.

For a moment, he allowed himself to stay like that, head down, shoulders hunched, letting the weight of it all press down on him. He needed this—needed to feel the full extent of his frustration and confusion, to let it crash over him before he could even think about facing the world again.

And then, slowly, he exhaled.

Adam sat in the quiet booth, his head still resting on his crossed arms. His thoughts swirled like storm clouds, the weight of everything pressing down on him. The faint hum of the studio equipment in the background was soothing, but it wasn’t enough to untangle the mess inside his head.

A soft sound—a shuffle of footsteps—caught his attention. He didn’t look up, assuming it was someone passing by. But then a voice broke the silence.

“Adam,” Lilith said, her tone soft but tinged with amusement. “I didn’t mean to give you a heart attack.”

Adam’s head shot up, his cheeks flushing slightly as he straightened in his seat.

“Lilith,” he stammered, glancing around as if to gather himself. “It wasn’t you. I mean—well, it was you, but not like that.”

He exhaled sharply, his words tumbling out in a rush. “I was just surprised to see you again after all this time.”

Lilith smiled faintly, her expression gentler than he remembered.

“It was nice to see you again,” she admitted, her blue eyes watching him carefully. “I’m not sure if you feel the same, but... I always saw you as a friend, Adam.”

Adam hesitated, his throat tightening at her honesty. He gave a small, crooked smile. “You were a friend, Lilith. I mean, we were... close, once.”

“Yeah,” she murmured. Her gaze flickered down for a moment before she slid into the booth across from him. “I wanted to say I’m sorry—for how things ended between us back then.”

Adam blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

Lilith was quiet for a beat, her fingers tracing idle patterns on the edge of the table. Finally, she spoke, her voice softer now. “It was never my intention to lead you on. I was young and stupid. I didn’t realize how much you liked me. I didn’t know how to handle it, so I thought... if I ignored it, it would go away.”

 Her lips curled into a small, self-deprecating smile. “I guess I was right. It did go away. But so did our friendship, and that... that’s on me.”

Adam blinked again, surprised by her candour. He rubbed the back of his neck, offering a crooked smile. “Lilith, it wasn’t your fault. It was just... a little crush. I got over it pretty fast.”

Lilith’s eyes narrowed slightly, as though trying to gauge his sincerity. But then she let out a soft laugh. “I don’t know if I believe that, but thank you for saying it.”

The tension between them eased, their conversation flowing more naturally as they reminisced. They laughed about being lab partners in school, recalling the time they accidentally set a beaker on fire during an experiment.

“Honestly, you were the top student,” Adam said with a grin, leaning back in his seat. “I admired you so much. I wanted to be like you—smart, confident, always knowing exactly what you wanted.”

Lilith laughed, her voice bright and genuine. “And I wanted to be carefree like you. You didn’t care what people thought. You just... existed, completely comfortable in your own skin.”

They both laughed, but the sound petered out as Adam let out a soft sigh, his head lowering slightly.

Lilith tilted her head, her brow furrowing.

“How are things with you and Lucifer?” she asked carefully.

Adam’s face twisted into a grimace before he could stop himself. He glanced to the side, debating how much to say. Could he tell her? Did she already know?

“Is it that bad?” Lilith pressed gently.

Adam hesitated, then met her gaze. “Lilith, if you knew...” He trailed off, unsure how to finish the sentence.

She surprised him by giving a sad chuckle, her eyes distant. “I already know, Adam.”

His brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Lilith leaned back against the booth, exhaling deeply. Her confident veneer cracked, revealing something more vulnerable beneath. “I knew from the start that Lucifer wasn’t into me the way I was into him. I could tell.”

Adam stared at her, stunned. “Then why...?”

“Why did I stay?” Lilith gave him a small, rueful smile. “Because I was young and stupid. I thought I could change him, make him like me even a little. But he never did.”

Her voice was steady, but Adam could hear the ache beneath her words. “No matter what I did, he just seemed... distant. Bored. It hurt, but I couldn’t accept failure. It felt like an insult to my alpha nature, you know? To admit defeat. So, I kept trying, kept pushing.”

She paused, her gaze distant, as if looking into the past. “I think I knew it was a lost cause when I brought up the idea of spending his heat together. He looked at me like I’d suggested something disgusting.”

Adam winced, his heart twisting. “Lilith...”

She gave a sad chuckle, her fingers brushing a strand of golden hair from her face. “He was never cruel, never outright mean. He just tolerated me. And back then, that was enough. I wanted him, even if he didn’t want me.”

Lilith leaned back in her seat, her gaze dropping to the table as her fingers ran absently over the edge. Her expression softened, her confident exterior peeling away to reveal a deep vulnerability that Adam hadn’t seen before.

“I really wanted him to be the one,” she said, her voice low, as if the admission itself was painful. “Lucifer, I mean. I convinced myself that if I tried hard enough, if I pushed through the walls he put up, I could get him to see me. To really see me.”

She let out a shaky laugh, her blue eyes glistening. “But looking back, it’s so obvious. He was only ever ‘nice’ to me because of you.”

Adam’s brow furrowed, his heart twisting. “Lilith, I’m sure that’s not true,” he said gently. “Lucifer must have had some feelings for you. He had to.”

Lilith snorted, the sound bitter and filled with disbelief. “Adam, I know it’s not true. Trust me.”

The certainty in her voice sent a flicker of unease through Adam, and his confusion deepened. “Why do you say that?”

She breathed in deeply, her shoulders rising and falling before she leaned forward, her piercing gaze locking onto his. “Because of you, Adam. You and Lucifer… you were always connected at the hip. I could never find one of you without the other. Wherever you went, he followed. It was like you were his North Star.”

Adam blinked, his stomach knotting at the weight of her words. Lilith hesitated, searching his expression as if gauging his readiness to hear what she was about to say. Finally, she spoke softly, her voice almost apologetic.

“Lucifer was in love with you.”

The words hit Adam like a blow, leaving him stunned. He blinked furiously, his eyes widening as if he had misheard her. “What?”

Lilith smiled pitifully, her eyes filled with a strange mixture of understanding and sadness. “He was, Adam. From the moment I met him, it was obvious. He always looked at you. Always cared about you, your feelings, your opinions. And when you started pulling away from us… he blamed me for it. I could see it in the way he looked at me.”

Adam opened his mouth to protest, but Lilith held up a hand to stop him. “

Before you say anything, just listen,” she said, her voice firm but kind. “I saw what happened between the two of you a few years ago. With your ex. I saw how you fought, how angry you were. But Adam, I don’t think that’s the whole story. There has to be more to it.”

Adam’s jaw tightened, his mind instantly recalling Lucifer’s words about Eve “trying to fix him.” The memory made his chest ache, but he forced himself to remain silent as Lilith continued.

“I’m not saying what happened was okay,” she said carefully. “But what I saw… what I witnessed from Lucifer—how much he adored you, how much he loves you—there’s no way he would have done something like that without a reason. I don’t know what kind of person your ex was, but I do know Lucifer. He wouldn’t go out of his way to hurt you. He loves you, Adam. He still does.”

Adam’s lips twitched, his gaze dropping to the table. His chest felt tight, his emotions swirling in a chaotic storm. He didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to process everything she was telling him.

Lilith reached forward, her hand resting lightly on his. “Adam…You’ve never seen him the way I have. Every time I see him at the bonfires, he’s always looking for you. And when he finds you? He doesn’t look away. Not once.”

Adam puffed out his cheeks, trying to contain the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm him. “He… he made out with Steve,” he muttered weakly.

Lilith’s expression darkened, her voice sharpening. “Steve? Oh, Adam, please tell me you weren’t seriously considering that—that moron!”

Adam flinched at her raised voice, his cheeks flushing. “I—I mean… well…”

Lilith crossed her arms, her disapproving glare cutting through him like a knife. “Adam, Steve is nothing but a disgusting, vile jerk. He beds omegas at every bonfire with the promise of mating, only to toss them aside the next morning. Please tell me you aren’t in contact with him.”

Adam shook his head hastily, his voice rising in defence. “No, no, of course not! I was just… desperate, Lilith. I just wanted…”

His voice cracked slightly, and he looked down, his shoulders sagging. “I just wanted to be wanted. To be loved and cherished.”

Lilith’s gaze softened, the fire in her eyes dimming. She squeezed his hand gently. “

“Oh, Adam,” she murmured, her voice full of quiet affection. “But you already are.”

Adam looked up at her, startled by the sincerity in her words. For a moment, they simply sat there, the weight of unspoken emotions filling the space between them. Lilith’s touch was steady, grounding him, and in that moment, he felt a flicker of something he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Hope.

Adam shifted uncomfortably in his seat, squirming like a cornered animal. His arms crossed over his chest as if bracing himself against Lilith’s steady gaze.

“But…” he began hesitantly, his voice trailing off before he let out a soft sigh. “He is an omega. We’re omegas.”

Lilith blinked, her brow furrowing slightly. “And is that a problem for you, Adam?”

He whined softly, the sound escaping unbidden as he closed his eyes briefly.

“No,” he said, shaking his head with a firmness that didn’t match the uncertainty flickering in his expression. “No, it’s not a problem. Being an omega doesn’t define me.”

Lilith’s lips quirked into a small smile, but she stayed quiet, letting him speak.

“I’ve never let it hold me back,” Adam continued, his voice growing more resolute. “Whenever I wanted something, I went for it. Grabbed it by the horns and climbed on board.”

He paused, his eyes dropping to the table. “Except with love, that is.”

Lilith made a face at that, her expression hovering between amusement and exasperation.

Adam quickly waved his hands as if to backtrack. “I mean… I didn’t know Lucifer was in love with me!”

Her laughter was light but teasing. “It was so obvious. How could you not?”

Adam huffed and sank back into the plush cushions, his arms tightening around himself defensively. “I don’t know. It just… wasn’t obvious to me.”

Lilith chuckled again, shaking her head. “You must be what people call dense.”

Adam pouted, his gaze sliding off to the side as he sank deeper into his thoughts. The room grew quiet save for the faint hum of distant studio chatter.

After a long moment, Adam whispered, almost to himself, “Everything was Lucifer’s fault.”

Lilith’s smile faded, her expression becoming patient as she leaned in slightly, waiting for him to elaborate.

Adam bit his bottom lip, his brows drawing together as if wrestling with his words. “He… he went after you because I told him I was developing a crush on you.”

His voice trembled slightly, but he pressed on. “Then he went after Lute because, again, I told him I liked her. And then with Eve…”

Lilith’s eyes flickered, a hint of understanding crossing her face. “It was a game to him.”

Adam gasped softly, his eyes snapping to hers in surprise. “

That’s right,” he said, his voice rising with realization. “He said he turned it into a game.”

Lilith nodded thoughtfully. “To keep people away from you.”

Adam’s shoulders sagged, a deep sigh falling from his lips. “Yes. He—he…”

He hesitated, his hands twisting in his lap. “Eve was different, though. Different from you and Lute. Eve was…”

Lilith interjected gently, her tone delicate and careful. “Eve made it to a place neither I nor Lute ever could. In Lucifer’s eyes, she did something he thought was impossible. She became your girlfriend. That made her a threat.”

Adam grimaced, her words cutting too close to the truth.

“That’s what he said,” he admitted reluctantly. “I mean… he hasn’t told me much outright. Most of it, I’ve had to figure out myself. But…”

“Lucifer must have been scared,” Lilith said softly. “Eve was your girlfriend. She had the potential to take you away from him. So, he did what he thought he had to do to keep you.”

Adam’s expression twisted, a mix of frustration and bitterness.

“I’m not a toy,” he grunted, the words carrying the weight of years of pent-up resentment.

Lilith reached out again, her hand brushing his lightly. “I know. I’m just trying to see it from Lucifer’s perspective. But Adam…”

She hesitated, her voice dropping to a softer, more vulnerable tone. “If you really want to understand what he was thinking, you’ll have to talk to him.”

Adam frowned, his lips pulling down as his gaze dropped to the table.

“I don’t know if I can,” he admitted, his voice breaking just slightly.

Lilith’s hand tightened over his, her expression full of warmth and encouragement. “Of course, you can. It was just the two of you for so long. You’re the only one who can make sense of this with him, Adam.”

Her words hung between them, heavy with truth, and for a moment, Adam couldn’t meet her eyes. Finally, he let out a shaky breath, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t even know where to start.”

Lilith smiled gently, her hand still resting over his. “Start with the truth, Adam. It’s all you’ve ever needed with him.”

The sky roared as lightning forked across the dark expanse, illuminating the rain that fell in relentless sheets. Adam cursed under his breath, his teeth clenched against the chill seeping through his jacket. He should have grabbed an umbrella—he knew better. It was late summer, and the city’s winters always came early, bringing dreary storms that crept into every corner. His fingers tightened around his shoulder bag, pressing it protectively against his chest as he hurried along the slick pavement.

By the time he reached the building block, his lungs burned, and water dripped from his hair into his eyes. He shoved the door open, panting as the warmth of the lounge greeted him. He barely had time to savor the reprieve before he froze, his breath catching painfully in his throat.

Lucifer.

Adam blinked, sure for a moment that the storm or his exhaustion had conjured a phantom. But no—the blonde omega was there, sitting cross-legged on the floor outside Adam’s flat. Rain had plastered his hair to his pale, angular face, and his hoodie hung limply around him like a sodden, tattered shield. His arms were wrapped tightly around his knees, as if trying to make himself smaller, less visible.

Adam’s heart clenched, an unwelcome ache blooming in his chest. Don’t. He swallowed hard, forcing his feet to move forward. His wet shoes squeaked against the polished floor as he approached the flat. Lucifer’s head tilted up, his blue eyes locking onto Adam’s with a raw, silent plea that hit like a punch to the gut.

Adam refused to falter. He clenched his jaw, focusing on the lock and twisting his key with deliberate precision.

Lucifer stirred behind him, his lips parting as though to speak, but no words came. Instead, he bit down, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip, his face crumpling into something too vulnerable, too desperate for Adam to bear.

Adam shoved the door open and stepped through, forcing himself to keep walking despite the way Lucifer’s gaze lingered on his back like a physical weight. The door clicked shut behind him, and he leaned against it, his breath coming out in a shaky groan.

“What the fuck,” he whispered hoarsely, running both hands over his face. His fingers dragged against the damp skin, the motion doing nothing to soothe the turmoil churning inside him.

He pressed his palms against the door as if it could shield him from the storm outside—and the one waiting just beyond the threshold. Lucifer. Sitting there, looking like the ghost of every regret Adam had tried to bury. Looking lost.

Adam squeezed his eyes shut, the ache in his chest deepening. He hated how his mind betrayed him, replaying every moment they’d shared—the laughter, the fights, the stolen glances. And now this... Whatever this was.

He paced the room, dripping water onto the worn carpet as his thoughts twisted into a tangled mess. What did Lucifer want? Why now? Why him? The questions buzzed in his skull like static, and no matter how hard he tried to ignore them, they only grew louder.

Adam glanced at the door, his hand instinctively lifting toward the handle before he stopped himself. No. He couldn’t open it. He couldn’t face Lucifer—not like this.

But the memory of those blue eyes refused to fade. Eyes that had once sparkled with mischief, that had warmed with affection. Now, they were hollowed out, ringed with shadows and begging for something Adam wasn’t sure he could give.

He let out a frustrated growl, raking his fingers through his hair.

“What the fuck are you doing, Lucifer?” he muttered, his voice low and pained.

The storm outside rumbled again, the sound rattling the windowpanes as if demanding an answer Adam didn’t have. He sank onto the edge of his couch, his head dropping into his hands. He didn’t know how to fix this—didn’t know if he wanted to fix this.

All he knew was that Lucifer was still out there. Waiting.

And Adam wasn’t sure how long he could leave him in the cold.

Adam pressed a hand to his chest, feeling the dull thrum of his heartbeat under his damp shirt.

“Maybe tomorrow will be better,” he muttered to himself, voice soft and uncertain. Surely, Lucifer wouldn’t stay out there much longer. Surely, he’d go home, find some semblance of sense, and leave Adam to his carefully constructed chaos.

With that fragile hope, Adam forced himself to undress, dry off, and collapse into bed. The storm raged outside, its relentless rhythm lulling him into a fitful sleep. But the morning brought no reprieve.

Lucifer was still there.

Every morning, Adam cracked his door open to find those familiar blue eyes staring at nothing, his figure huddled on the floor like a sentinel waiting for orders. Every evening, Adam returned home to see the same sight: Lucifer, sitting as though his entire world revolved around that cold, unyielding hallway. The routine became a knot in Adam’s stomach, tightening with every passing day.

He tried to focus on his life. Work, therapy, doctor’s visits, and medication became the cornerstones of his survival. But even as he poured his energy into moving forward, Lucifer’s presence loomed in the back of his mind. The omega didn’t speak, didn’t plead, didn’t move. He was just there, an echo of something Adam wasn’t sure he wanted to remember. And yet, every glance at him chipped away at Adam’s resolve.

Almost a month passed. Adam kept waiting for the moment Lucifer would finally give up and leave. He wanted it to happen. He needed it to happen. But when it didn’t, when Lucifer’s silent vigil stretched on, Adam found himself caught in an unbearable limbo.

Then one day, everything changed.

Adam jogged home, his bag slung over one shoulder and his breath fogging the chilly air. But when he reached his floor, he froze. The space outside his flat was empty.

No Lucifer.

His heart stuttered, a cold sweat prickling along his spine. His legs trembled beneath him as he scanned the hallway, his chest tightening with something he couldn’t quite name. Panic? Guilt? Both?

Adam clutched his bag tightly, his fingers digging into the worn leather as his gaze darted down the corridor.

“Lucifer?” he called, his voice echoing off the silent walls. Nothing. No answer.

He fumbled for his phone, swiping it open with a shaking hand even though he knew it was pointless. Lucifer didn’t have his new number; Adam had made sure of that. Still, the empty screen staring back at him felt like a slap. No messages. No missed calls. Nothing.

His shoulders slumped, and he closed his eyes against the sting of disappointment. He shouldn’t feel this way. He shouldn’t. But the emptiness outside his door felt heavier than Lucifer’s silent presence ever had.

“Maybe he didn’t care as much as he claimed,” Adam muttered bitterly, his voice low and wavering. He clicked his tongue, forcing his emotions down as he unlocked his flat and stepped inside. Slamming the door behind him, he grunted, “Good. Better this way.”

But the following week was anything but better.

The silence was unbearable. The emptiness gnawed at him, a strange, dull ache that he couldn’t shake. The hallway felt colder, the evenings quieter, and the walls of his flat pressed in closer with each passing day. Adam tried to convince himself that this was what he wanted. That Lucifer’s absence was a relief.

It wasn’t.

He missed him. It was absurd and maddening, but Adam couldn’t help it. He found himself lingering at his door in the mornings, half-expecting to see a familiar blond figure huddled on the floor. When he returned in the evenings, his steps slowed, his heart sinking with the realization that Lucifer wasn’t there.

Adam didn’t know how to explain the void Lucifer had left behind. Anger and sadness warred within him, tangled with something softer, something dangerously close to longing. And he hated himself for it.

One evening, as the sun dipped low and painted the sky in muted golds and greys, Adam stood in his kitchen, staring out the window. His dinner sat untouched on the counter behind him. He didn’t have the appetite. His mind was elsewhere, circling back to the same thought over and over again.

Where was Lucifer?

And why did it feel like a piece of Adam had vanished along with him?

The warm scent of cinnamon and fresh bread wrapped around Adam like a comforting blanket as he stepped into his family home. He barely had time to close the door before his mama appeared, her face lighting up in pure joy.

"Adam!" she exclaimed, pulling him into a tight hug. "Oh, my baby! You’re here! Look at you—are you eating well? You’re not too thin, are you? Oh, your cheeks look a little hollow. Are you getting enough sleep? How’s work? How’s therapy going? Oh, and the bonfire last month—how was that?"

“Mama—” Adam tried to interject, but she was already dragging him toward the cozy kitchen, her questions coming faster than he could keep up.

“Are you drinking enough water? You are drinking water, right? And those pills the doctor gave you—are they helping? Do they make you feel okay? Not too groggy? Oh, Adam, you’ve been working too hard, haven’t you? You’re always working. Do you have time for yourself? Are you—"

“Mama!” Adam laughed, finally managing to get a word in edgewise. He raised his hands in mock surrender. “One question at a time, please. And yes, I’m fine. I promise.”

She stepped back, narrowing her eyes at him like she didn’t quite believe him, but her smile never faltered. “Good. Now, sit down. You look tired, and I’ll make you some tea.”

Adam didn’t argue. He sank into one of the cushioned kitchen chairs, letting himself relax as his mama bustled about, her presence filling the room with warmth and energy. Moments like these reminded him of how much he missed her, of how easy it was to fall into the comforting rhythms of home.

As they sipped tea together, her questions slowed, turning softer. The conversation drifted naturally, and soon they were talking about his father.

“When did you know you loved him?” Adam asked quietly, his gaze fixed on the steaming mug in his hands.

His mama’s face softened, her eyes glistening with a mixture of joy and nostalgia. “Oh, I knew from the moment I met him. Your father… he was special. Not because he was a beta, but because of who he was. He had the gentlest soul, Adam. He was patient, kind, and always so thoughtful. When he looked at me, I felt seen. Truly seen.”

Adam smiled faintly, his chest aching with a bittersweet warmth.

“I barely remember him now,” he admitted, glancing at the photograph hanging on the wall. His father’s warm smile stared back at him, a man forever frozen in time.

His mama’s hand covered his, her touch firm yet tender.

“You were so young when we lost him,” she murmured. “It’s okay if the memories are fuzzy. But Adam, I want you to know this—your father loved you more than anything in this world. He would be so proud of you. No matter what.”

Adam’s throat tightened, and he nodded, unable to find the right words. He looked back at the photograph, his mind swirling with questions.

“Mama,” he began hesitantly, “was Dad being a beta ever… a problem for you?”

She blinked in surprise, then let out a soft laugh. “For me? Never. Not for a single moment.”

“Your father was the kindest man I’d ever met. He never pushed boundaries, never made me feel less than. But…” Her voice trailed off, her smile fading slightly.

“But?” Adam pressed, though he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the answer.

She sighed, her gaze drifting to the photograph as well. “Your grandparents on my side… they disapproved. Things were different back then, Adam. Anything out of the ordinary was seen as unacceptable. Unthinkable. They wanted me to marry an alpha, and when I refused, they disowned me. They cut off all contact when I married your father.”

Adam swallowed hard, his fingers gripping the edge of his mug.

“I didn’t know that,” he said softly.

“It wasn’t your burden to carry,” his mama said gently, brushing a stray curl from his forehead. “But it was worth it. Every hardship, every struggle. Your father was worth it, and so are you.”

He stared at her for a moment, her unwavering love and strength making his chest ache.

“Mama,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper, “What if—”

He stopped, taking a deep breath. “What if the person you love… what if it feels impossible?”

Her brows furrowed in concern. “Adam, what’s this about?”

He hesitated, his lips parting and closing as he struggled to find the words. Finally, he blurted out, “Lucifer told me he loves me.”

The silence that followed was deafening. His mama’s expression shifted, her eyes widening briefly before softening with understanding.

“Lucifer,” she repeated, her tone careful.

Adam nodded, his voice quieter now. “He said… he’s been in love with me since we were kids.”

Her eyes searched his face, as if trying to piece together his thoughts.

“And how do you feel about that?” she asked gently.

Adam let out a shaky laugh, dragging a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. I— I mean, it’s Lucifer. He’s…”

He paused, his throat tightening. “He’s always been there. Always. But this? I didn’t see it coming. Not like this.”

His mama reached out, cupping his face with both hands.

“Adam,” she said softly, her eyes brimming with warmth, “Sometimes love comes in ways we don’t expect. That doesn’t make it any less real. If you need time to figure out how you feel, take it. But don’t shut him out just because it’s scary.”

He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. “It’s not just scary, Mama. It’s everything. It’s him.”

“And maybe,” she said, her voice filled with quiet conviction, “That’s exactly why it’s worth it.”

Adam squirmed uncomfortably in his chair, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. "I don’t know what to think, Mama. I don’t know what to feel. Lucifer was—he is—everything to me. My best friend, my other half. We were always together, from the time we were kids. We shared a bloody nest, for goodness’ sake."

He let out a shaky laugh that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "I never thought… I never thought he’d be interested in me. I always thought…"

His voice trailed off, the words caught somewhere between his heart and his throat. He stared at the table, his brows knitted together as he tried to gather his thoughts.

"I don’t even know what I thought anymore," he muttered, running a hand through his hair.

His mama reached across the table and gently placed her hand on his arm, grounding him. "Take your time, sweetheart. I’m listening."

Adam nodded, biting his lip as he lowered his gaze. "Lucifer… Mama, he’s done some bad things. Some really bad things."

The weight of those words pressed down on him, and he felt the familiar ache in his chest as guilt and anger swirled together. He barely noticed the way his mama’s expression softened, her thumb brushing soothingly against his forearm.

"Are these bad things the reason you fell out?" she asked quietly, her voice as gentle as a whisper.

Adam winced, his heart twisting painfully. He looked up at her, his eyes wide and anxious, like a child caught in the storm of his own emotions.

"Yes," he admitted, his voice cracking under the weight of the confession.

His mama’s lips curved into a pained smile, her eyes brimming with understanding and sorrow. "I knew something had happened between the two of you," she said, her tone steady and warm. "I just wish you’d told me earlier."

Adam made a strangled sound in the back of his throat, his hands gripping the edge of the table.

"But Mama," he said, his voice rising with desperation, "I barely knew the whole story myself. Lucifer’s only just started telling me… more. More of the story, I mean. Things I didn’t even know."

She nodded slowly, her gaze never leaving his face.

"You don’t have to tell me what Lucifer did," she said softly. "I can see in your eyes that you don’t want to. But… is it something unforgivable?"

Adam opened his mouth to answer but then closed it again, his expression crumpling under the weight of the question. His voice, when it finally came, was barely above a whisper.

"Yes," he said, his throat tight. "Yes, it’s unforgivable. But…"

He paused, his hands trembling slightly as he looked down at the table, unable to meet her eyes. "But it’s Lucifer at the same time. It’s Lucifer, Mama. He’s the one who did this, who hurt me. But he’s also…"

His voice cracked, and he dragged a hand down his face, trying to keep his composure. "He’s my Luci. He’s the one who’s always been there for me. The one who—who made me laugh when I didn’t want to. The one who stayed with me through everything. And now he’s done these terrible things, and I just—"

His voice broke completely, and he pressed a hand over his chest, as if trying to steady the storm brewing inside him. "I don’t know how to make sense of it. How to make sense of him."

His mama’s hand moved from his arm to his cheek, cupping it gently. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, but her voice remained calm and steady.

"Oh, Adam," she said, her thumb brushing against his cheek. "Love is messy. People are messy. Sometimes, the people we love the most are the ones who hurt us the deepest."

Adam closed his eyes, leaning into her touch like he had when he was a child seeking comfort after a bad dream.

"What do I do, Mama?" he whispered. "How do I forgive him for something I don’t think I can ever forget?"

She was silent for a moment, her gaze searching his face as if looking for the right words. Finally, she spoke. "You take your time, Adam. Forgiveness doesn’t mean forgetting. It doesn’t mean excusing what he did. But if you decide you want him in your life, you’ll have to decide if you can move forward together, scars and all. And if you can’t…"

Her voice faltered, but she pressed on. "If you can’t, that’s okay too. You deserve love, my son. The kind that lifts you up, not one that tears you down."

Adam opened his eyes, staring at her as her words sank in. He nodded slowly, though the ache in his chest didn’t lessen.

"I don’t know if I can let him go," he admitted softly. "I don’t think I want to."

She smiled faintly, her thumb brushing away a tear he hadn’t realized had fallen.

"Then don’t," she said simply. "Not yet, at least. Let yourself figure it out. One step at a time."

Adam swallowed hard, the lump in his throat refusing to go away.

"One step at a time," he echoed, his voice trembling.

His mama pulled him into a warm hug, holding him close like she had when he was a little boy. And for the first time in what felt like forever, Adam let himself lean into her embrace, letting her strength and warmth carry him through the storm of his thoughts.

Adam meandered his way back home, his steps lighter, a faint smile lingering after his heart-to-heart with his mama. For the first time in weeks, the weight on his shoulders seemed to ease. He glanced up at the overcast sky, the faint hum of a tune escaping his lips. His expression soured when the sky answered him with a crackle of thunder. Of course. Rain again.

He rolled his green eyes and quickened his pace, muttering under his breath as the first drops splattered onto the pavement. By the time he reached the doors of his apartment building, the rain had turned into a full-fledged downpour. He barely managed to slip inside before getting completely drenched, shaking off the water clinging to his jacket as he climbed the stairs. His footsteps echoed in the narrow stairwell, the sound comforting in its familiarity.

But when he reached his floor, he froze mid-step, his breath catching in his throat.

Lucifer was there.

Adam’s green eyes widened as they took in the sight of him. The same spot, the same posture. But something was different—worse. Lucifer looked... thinner, frailer, as if the weight of the world had been crushing him. His hoodie, worn and stretched out, clung damply to his frame, and his ripped jeans looked even more threadbare than before. He was curled up against the wall, knees to his chest, arms wrapped tightly around them. His head was buried against his knees, his golden hair damp and sticking to his neck.

Adam’s brows furrowed deeply. He could feel the worry churning in his gut, a sick twist of guilt and frustration mingling as he approached. But Lucifer didn’t move. Not a twitch. Even as Adam passed within arm’s reach, Lucifer remained eerily still, his breathing shallow and uneven.

Adam stopped at his door, biting the inside of his cheek. His fingers fumbled with his keys, his eyes flicking back to the fragile figure huddled by the wall. He couldn’t ignore the gnawing sensation in his chest—worry, anger, pity—it all tangled together, making his hands shake as he unlocked the door. He pushed it open and stood on the threshold, staring into the comforting warmth of his flat.

For a long moment, he just stood there, his back to Lucifer, gripping the doorknob tightly enough to make his knuckles ache. He exhaled sharply, rolling his eyes upward as if the heavens owed him an answer.

"Lucifer," he barked suddenly, his voice sharp and cutting through the quiet like a whip.

He heard the subtle hitch in Lucifer’s breathing behind him, saw the faint tremor ripple through the blonde's shoulders. Lucifer didn’t lift his head, but Adam could tell he was listening.

"Make sure to lock the door behind you," Adam said, his tone clipped as he stepped into his flat. He shrugged off his coat, letting it fall haphazardly onto a nearby chair.

Lucifer’s head snapped up, his blue eyes wide and startled as they flicked toward Adam’s back. He didn’t move at first, frozen in disbelief.

"Well?" Adam bit out, glaring over his shoulder at the empty doorway. "Are you coming in or not?"

That broke whatever hesitation Lucifer had. He scrambled to his feet, unsteady but quick, and shuffled inside. His movements were hesitant, almost timid, as if he feared Adam might change his mind and shut the door in his face. He lingered in the entryway, his fingers brushing nervously against the doorframe, eyes darting around the flat like a skittish animal.

"Take off your shoes!" Adam snapped, not bothering to look at him as he kicked his own sneakers toward the corner. "I don’t want you tracking dirt everywhere."

Lucifer jumped, immediately bending down to untie his worn sneakers. He placed them neatly beside Adam’s, his trembling hands carefully aligning them before he turned and locked the door. His fingers hovered over the locks for a moment, brushing them as if to make sure they were secured.

Adam sighed as the door clicked shut behind Lucifer, the sound echoing in the quiet of his flat. He hung his coat on the hook by the door and ran a hand through his damp hair, watching out of the corner of his eye as Lucifer lingered awkwardly near the entrance. The blonde omega looked so small, almost like a ghost of the person Adam had grown up with. His hoodie hung off his thin frame, the fabric frayed and damp from days of sitting out in the elements.

"Are you just going to stand there?" Adam snapped, his voice sharper than he intended. He turned to face Lucifer fully, his green eyes narrowed. "If you're going to be here, you might as well make yourself useful. Go sit on the couch or something."

Lucifer flinched but nodded, his movements hesitant and sluggish as he shuffled toward the couch. His knees wobbled slightly, and Adam felt his stomach twist at how frail the other omega seemed. Lucifer perched on the edge of the sofa, his hands clasped tightly in his lap, his eyes fixed on the floor like he didn’t belong.

Adam sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Do you want some tea?" he asked, his voice softer now. He was already moving toward the kitchen before Lucifer could answer, pulling out a kettle and filling it with water.

"I..." Lucifer’s voice was barely audible, trembling and small. "Yes, please. Thank you."

Adam nodded but didn’t look back. The sound of the kettle filling with water drowned out the nagging thoughts that swirled in his head. He busied himself with preparing the tea, pulling out two mismatched mugs and a box of chamomile. As he waited for the water to boil, he stole a glance over his shoulder.

Lucifer hadn’t moved. He was still sitting there, his shoulders hunched and his head down, as if trying to make himself invisible.

"Why are you back here, Lucifer?" Adam asked suddenly, his voice cutting through the quiet.

Lucifer tensed, his head lifting slightly but not enough to meet Adam’s gaze.

"I... I didn’t know where else to go," he admitted, his voice cracking. "I—I just needed to see you."

Adam’s hands clenched around the edge of the counter, his knuckles whitening.

"You’ve been sitting outside my flat for weeks," he said coldly. "Weeks, Lucifer. Do you even know how insane that is? How messed up it looks?"

Lucifer flinched again, his hands trembling in his lap.

"I didn’t mean to make you angry," he said quietly. "I just... I didn’t know how else to... to make things right."

Adam let out a hollow laugh, turning his attention back to the tea. "Right. Because sitting outside like some lost puppy was definitely going to fix everything."

He poured the steaming water into the mugs, the faint scent of chamomile filling the air. He placed a mug in front of Lucifer, who looked at it like he didn’t deserve it.

"Thank you," Lucifer murmured again, his voice hoarse. He wrapped his hands around the mug, letting the warmth seep into his fingers.

Adam sat down across from him, his green eyes sharp and probing.

"Talk," he said firmly. "If you’re going to be here, if you’re going to invade my space like this, you’d better have something to say."

Lucifer looked up at him then, his blue eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

"I’m sorry," he whispered. "For everything. For hurting you. For... for being selfish. I thought—I thought I was protecting you, but all I did was push you away."

Adam’s jaw tightened, and he crossed his arms over his chest.

"You did more than push me away, Luci," he said, his voice laced with bitterness. "You broke me. You made me question everything—who I was, who you were. And now you’re here, sitting on my couch like... like you think an apology will fix it all."

"I don’t think that," Lucifer said quickly, his voice desperate. "I don’t. I just... I just wanted a chance to explain. To tell you the truth. And to tell you that I... I love you, Adam..."

The words hung heavy in the air between them, and Adam felt his chest tighten. He looked away, staring at the wall as a thousand memories flooded his mind—nights spent laughing, fights that left them both in tears, and the overwhelming pain of betrayal.

"I don’t know if I can forgive you," Adam said finally, his voice breaking. "I don’t know if I want to."

Lucifer nodded slowly, his shoulders sagging under the weight of Adam’s words.

"I understand," he said softly. "I don’t expect you to forgive me. I just... I needed you to know. And if this is the last time, I see you, then at least I’ll know I tried."

Adam stared at him, his heart aching in ways he didn’t think were possible. For a long moment, he said nothing, letting the silence stretch between them like a fragile thread.

"Finish your tea," he said quietly. "Then we’ll talk."

Lucifer blinked down at the steaming cup of tea, his trembling fingers curling around it. He leaned in closer, his nose brushing the rising vapor as he inhaled the sweet, warm scent.

“Apple, cinnamon, and raisin?” he murmured, his voice carrying a thread of surprise.

He glanced toward Adam with wide, uncertain eyes. “You still drink black tea?”

Adam shifted on his feet, his shoulders tensing as he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Yeah, well... I guess some things haven’t changed much.”

Lucifer’s lips twitched, and for the briefest moment, a faint, trembling smile graced his pale, blue-tinged lips. He nodded silently and took a tentative sip from the cup, the warmth of the liquid contrasting with his cold hands.

Adam exhaled sharply, his damp hair falling into his eyes as he ran a hand through it. He sighed heavily, his voice emerging soft but filled with weariness as he finally spoke. “You’d better start talking, Luci. If you’re going to sit outside my door for weeks, looking like death warmed over, and then barge into my home, the least you can do is explain yourself.”

Lucifer’s head dipped slightly, his fingers tightening around the tea as if it were the only thing keeping him tethered.

“Not really barging in if you invite me in,” he muttered under his breath, his tone defensive but quiet. When Adam didn’t waver, his sharp green eyes boring into him, Lucifer swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

“I...” His voice cracked, breaking into a whisper. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

Adam frowned, crossing his arms as he leaned against the counter. “What do you mean you had nowhere else to go? What about your house?”

Lucifer’s head snapped up at that, his wide, startled blue eyes locking onto Adam’s face. “You... you know I own a house?”

Adam flushed, shifting awkwardly. “I mean... I kept tabs on you. After everything. Just to... make sure you were okay.”

The admission hung heavy in the air, and for a moment, Lucifer’s expression flickered between hope, sorrow, and something unspoken. His shoulders tensed, but then they sagged as though a weight had settled there.

“I lost the house,” he mumbled, his voice barely audible.

Adam blinked, his brows knitting together in disbelief. “How’d you lose your house?”

Lucifer pinched his lips together, his eyes narrowing in frustration. “It’s hard to keep a house when you’re behind on mortgage payments,” he muttered bitterly.

Adam’s frown deepened. “What about your job? Last I heard, you were doing well in your family’s company—”

Lucifer flinched visibly at the words, his hands tightening around the tea as his body curled inward.

“Things with my family...” His voice wavered, and he trailed off, staring down into the tea as if it held the answers he couldn’t find. “They’ve only gotten worse since... since...”

“Luci.” Adam’s voice was sharper now, a mixture of concern and frustration. “Are... are you homeless?”

Lucifer stiffened, his gaze darting away as his lips pressed into a thin line. When he didn’t answer, Adam’s stomach dropped, and he stepped closer, lowering himself onto the couch beside Lucifer.

“How bad is everything?” Adam asked gently, his tone softening. It was the same tone he’d used years ago, back when comforting Lucifer had been second nature.

The effect was immediate. A shiver ran through Lucifer’s body, and a heavy wave of omega pheromones filled the room, thick with despair. Adam’s throat tightened at the sheer intensity of it, but he didn’t back away.

“Why didn’t you go to...” He hesitated, his words faltering. Why didn’t you come to me? The question hung, unspoken but weighty. “Why didn’t you go to my mama? You know she would’ve helped you.”

Lucifer shook his head slowly, his voice breaking as he replied. “I... I didn’t want to impose. I’ve already caused enough damage. I didn’t want... didn’t want to bring more problems into your family.”

Adam let out a frustrated breath, his fingers twitching as he resisted the urge to snap.

“You could have come to me, Luci,” he said, his voice dropping to a softer pitch. “I would’ve helped you.”

Lucifer’s head shot up, his blue eyes blazing with a mix of disbelief and anger. “You hated me.”

“I do not hate you,” Adam said firmly, his tone exasperated. “I was angry—furious—but hate? I could never hate you. If you’d come to me, I wouldn’t have turned you away. I would’ve...”

“Really?” Lucifer’s voice cracked, his expression breaking apart like fragile glass. His lips trembled, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “You really would’ve helped me?”

Adam’s heart twisted painfully. He hadn’t seen Lucifer like this—so open, so raw—since they were teenagers. He sighed, dragging a hand down his face. “Of course I would’ve. No matter what’s happened between us, I wouldn’t have let you suffer like this.”

The first tear slipped down Lucifer’s cheek, and he quickly scrubbed it away with the back of his hand. But the dam had broken, and he soon collapsed against Adam, shaking with quiet sobs.

“Addie, I’m so sorry. I—I really am,” he stammered, his voice muffled against Adam’s shoulder.

Adam hesitated, his body stiffening at first, but then he awkwardly wrapped an arm around Lucifer’s trembling form.

“Look, we’ll talk about everything later. But you have to promise me something.” He leaned back slightly, just enough to look Lucifer in the eyes. “You’re not lying about any of this. About your family, the house, all of it.”

Lucifer nodded fervently, his breath hitching as he wiped at his face. “I’m not lying. I swear, Addie. It’s all true. I—I can show you my phone. I have texts and calls from my family... proof...”

“Alright,” Adam murmured, his tone gentler now. “Alright, Luci. I believe you.”

But even as he said the words, a deep unease settled in his chest. Whatever had brought Lucifer to this point—it wasn’t going to be an easy road to fix it. And yet, as he held Lucifer close, Adam couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, they could figure it out together.

The next morning came slowly, the soft grey light of dawn spilling into the small studio flat, muted by thick rainclouds lingering from the storm. Adam stirred first, blinking groggily at the ceiling. His body felt heavy, weighed down not just by sleep but by the emotional strain of the night before. He glanced toward the couch, his green eyes narrowing slightly as he took in the small, curled figure of Lucifer, still buried beneath a mound of blankets.

Lucifer was motionless except for the faint rise and fall of his chest. His face was partially hidden, but Adam could see faint streaks of dried tears on his cheeks. It made his stomach twist in ways he wasn’t ready to unpack.

With a sigh, Adam swung his legs over the edge of his bed and padded toward the kitchenette. His flat wasn’t much, but it was functional: a few cabinets, a stove, and enough counter space to make something simple. He set about preparing tea again, the ritual grounding him. The faint clink of the kettle seemed loud in the stillness, and Adam winced, glancing toward the couch. Lucifer didn’t stir.

Pouring the tea, Adam debated for a moment before grabbing a piece of toast from the breadbox. He smeared it lightly with jam, his movements slower than usual. His mind was elsewhere—on the weight of the air between them, on how they kept colliding like strangers last night when once they had moved seamlessly as one.

Adam approached the couch, placing the tea and toast on the small table nearby. He crouched slightly, his green eyes scanning Lucifer’s face.

"Luci," he said softly, his voice husky from sleep. "Wake up. You need to eat something."

Lucifer shifted beneath the blankets, a low whimper escaping his lips. Slowly, his blue eyes cracked open, unfocused and still rimmed red. He blinked up at Adam, confusion flickering across his face before he seemed to remember where he was.

"Morning," Adam said awkwardly, his hand twitching as though he wanted to reach out but stopped himself. "I made tea. And toast."

Lucifer nodded mutely, sitting up slowly. The blankets slipped from his shoulders, revealing the borrowed pyjamas that hung loosely on his too-thin frame. He accepted the tea, cradling it between his hands like it was the only source of warmth he had.

“Thanks,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Adam watched him for a beat, his hands falling to his knees as he pushed himself upright. “I’ll make something more filling in a bit. Eggs or something. Just... eat that for now.”

He didn’t wait for a reply, turning toward the kitchen again. The space between them felt suffocating, each word like a small stone tossed into a vast, still lake.

As Adam fiddled with a frying pan, he couldn’t stop stealing glances over his shoulder. Lucifer sipped his tea but barely touched the toast, his movements sluggish and mechanical. It was maddening, this distance between them, when once they had been so attuned to each other.

The day dragged on like that. Small interactions, half-finished sentences, and lingering silences. Lucifer shuffled around the flat, bumping into Adam every time they crossed paths. Each time, he muttered a soft, barely audible “Sorry,” and each time, Adam waved it off with a tight-lipped nod, his frustration growing—not at Lucifer, but at how unnatural this all felt.

By the time evening came, Adam had managed to coax Lucifer into eating a proper meal, though it had taken more effort than he liked to admit. He set up the couch again, piling it high with the same blankets as the night before. But as he stood there, staring down at the makeshift bed, a sense of wrongness gnawed at him.

It wasn’t right. Lucifer didn’t belong on the couch. He belonged... Adam swallowed hard, turning away. He didn’t want to think about it. About how badly he wanted to pull Lucifer to his bed, to hold him close and whisper reassurances until the cracks in his heart began to mend. It wasn’t time for that. Not yet.

Instead, Adam climbed into his own bed, his body sinking into the familiar mattress. From where he lay, he could see Lucifer on the couch, his form barely visible beneath the pile of blankets. The proximity was a small comfort, enough to ease the tightness in his chest, but it wasn’t enough to stop the lingering ache.

“If... if you need me,” Adam began hesitantly, his voice cutting through the quiet. He trailed off, unsure of what to say, of how to reach out without tearing open old wounds.

Lucifer sniffled, curling tighter into the blankets. He didn’t reply. Adam pressed his lips together, his heart sinking as he realized that was answer enough. He turned onto his side, willing himself to relax, to sleep.

And then he heard it.

It was soft at first, muffled as if Lucifer was desperately trying to suppress it. But the sound grew, breaking through the silence: quiet, broken sobs. Adam froze, his breath catching in his throat. The sound was like a knife twisting in his chest, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to move.

Lucifer was crying. He was crying, and Adam hated it—hated how helpless it made him feel. His fingers curled into the sheets as he debated, his mind a whirlwind of indecision. But in the end, he stayed where he was, his back turned to the couch.

He told himself it was for the best. They both needed space, that it wasn’t the right time to push. But deep down, he knew the truth: he wasn’t ready either. Not to face the depth of Lucifer’s pain. Not to reopen the wounds he had spent years trying to close.

So, he lay there, his eyes burning as he stared at the wall, and listened as Lucifer cried himself to sleep.

Adam waited until Lucifer's breathing softened, a steady rhythm that signaled he was deep in sleep. The moonlight filtered through the thin curtains, casting pale silver streaks across Lucifer's tear-streaked face. Adam's heart clenched at the sight. Lucifer had always been a fortress, stoic and unshakable. Yet tonight, that carefully constructed image had crumbled, leaving behind a raw, vulnerable man who wept silently into the shadows.

Sliding off the bed as quietly as he could, Adam crept toward the old red-and-orange hoodie tossed carelessly on the chair. His fingers brushed against the fraying fabric, a relic of better days, before digging into the pocket to retrieve Lucifer’s iPhone. Adam hesitated, his gaze darting to Lucifer. Even in sleep, his face was troubled, his brows slightly furrowed.

"I'm sorry," Adam whispered under his breath, clutching the phone tightly.

He tried the first passcode that came to mind—Lucifer's birthday. Incorrect. Christmas? No. The numbers Lucifer jokingly referred to as his "lucky ones"? Still no. Frustration bubbled as Adam rubbed his temple. He even tried his own birthday in a moment of desperation, but nothing worked. He was about to give up when, almost absentmindedly, he entered the date they had first officially met.

The screen unlocked with a soft click. Adam froze, his breath catching. He stared at the illuminated screen, blinking in disbelief. Of all the possible codes, Lucifer had chosen that day. A bittersweet pang echoed in Adam's chest as his gaze returned to the sleeping man.

"You sentimental fool," he muttered, but his words lacked bite.

His thumb hovered over the screen, unsure of where to start. Curiosity and concern warred within him, but something told Adam he needed to understand. He tapped on the messaging app, and what he saw made his blood run cold.

The first message was from Lucifer's father: "You are the greatest disappointment this family has ever endured. Not even fit to carry the Morningstar name."

Adam’s jaw tightened. He scrolled further.

"An omega who can’t even serve his purpose. What use are you to anyone?"

"You can’t provide. You can’t lead. You’re nothing but dead weight."

Message after message was a relentless barrage of cruelty. Words that stabbed like knives. Adam’s chest tightened painfully as he read them, his stomach twisting into knots.

Then came the emails. They were no better. His mother had written lengthy diatribes laced with venom, questioning Lucifer’s worth as a human being. She accused him of staining their lineage, called him poisonous, unworthy, a burden to be discarded.

Adam’s hands trembled as he read the final email, dated just days ago.

"You’ll never be loved, Lucifer. You are broken. Useless. A waste of space."

The screen blurred as Adam’s eyes burned with unshed tears. He lowered the phone to his lap, unable to read another word. His gaze fell to Lucifer, who lay curled up, his body tense even in sleep. How had he survived this? How had he carried the weight of such hatred, such rejection?

Adam’s legs gave way, and he sank to the floor, his knees hitting the hardwood with a dull thud. He could barely breathe. This wasn’t just cruelty; it was a calculated effort to break Lucifer, to strip him of any semblance of dignity or hope.

His voice cracked as he whispered, "Luci... how have you endured this? How could you go through all of this and still... still do those things to me?"

Adam reached out with trembling fingers, brushing the golden strands of Lucifer’s hair away from his face. He tenderly wiped away the dried tear tracks on his cheeks, his heart shattering with each gentle caress.

"You deserved so much more," Adam murmured, his voice breaking. "You deserved love, respect... everything they denied you…but you also did bad things too..”

His anger simmered beneath the surface, directed at the Morningstars and their unyielding, heartless expectations. An omega in a family of alphas—Lucifer had never stood a chance against their prejudice. And the sheer audacity of them demanding he mate with an older alpha, as though his entire worth depended on whom he married—it made Adam’s blood boil.

He cradled Lucifer’s face gently, his thumb tracing small circles on his cheek. "You are not poisonous. You are not broken. You are not unworthy," Adam whispered fiercely. "You are loved. Maybe not by them, but by…Always by…."

Lucifer stirred slightly, a faint whimper escaping his lips. Adam leaned closer, pressing a feather-light kiss to his temple. He held him like he was made of glass, as though the sheer weight of his care could mend the shattered pieces of Lucifer's heart.

"I don’t know if I can forgive you for the things you’ve done but…but I’ll fight for you," Adam vowed softly, tears slipping down his own cheeks now. "Even if they won't, I will. Your family don’t deserve you.”

Lucifer sighed in his sleep, his body relaxing slightly as though he could feel Adam’s silent promise. Adam stayed there, his fingers tangled in golden hair, his heart beating with a fierce determination. He would protect Lucifer, no matter what.

[blkgirl-writing]

Conversations with the Moon

Gale Dekarios x Fem!Reader

Summary: Gale finds himself at the lake with a drink in his hand again, talking with the moon.

Authors note: This one is actually really good and easily my favorite i've made for bg3 Inspired by the absolutely amazing song, conversations with the moon by grantperez, this combines a few requests into one fic.

It was a blue mooned night, wonder happened on blue moons, simple as that. This blue moon no different than any other, but special, as Gale found himself on his seventh drink, leaned against a very cold rock, talking to the moon. Enticing his truths out of his lips like a sweet sweet melody. Words only alcohol and a friend could get him to mutter.

“I wish I could just tell her how incredible she is-“ his words slurred slightly, “she’s enchanting. Every word she speaks is like a charm” 

“A charm, hm?” The moon replied “you sound like a man deeply in love.”

“I can’t-“ Gale stuttered. “We haven’t even made it to baldurs gate, I don’t…I don’t even know how many days, weeks? It’s been.” 

The moon sighed, followed by an unmistakable “tsk”, peculiar considering it was the moon, but as he recalled it he was sure it happened. 

“Night after night, when I shine brightest, you talk to me, and always about her. Love is all I hear, just not in those words. Everything but those four words.” 

Gale huffed, grabbing his goblet from the ground, drunkenly swishing the red liquid around, some sloshing out of the rim. The moon only spoke truths, but he kept denying it. Over and over again.

“Do you try to scare me?” Gale but his lower lip softly, his small attempt to stop the words from leaving his lips. “To dangle the promise of love in front of me?“ 

“Do you try to punish me? I don’t know if this heart can take another crack..it’s destined to shatter, eventually. Soon enough…”

“You let the possibility of hurt ruin a lifetime of love and happiness with the woman who you will call soulmate?”

“soulmate…? Moon, you can’t mean“ Gale fumbled standing up, wobbling left before gaining his balance again. accusingly pointing at the blue moon itself like he had discovered a secret never meant for his ears.  “You said soulmate.”

“I did indeed. Very observant.” The moon said, the sassy tone ever so present. “I can tell you a million times if you’d like, but it is your decision to accept it and proceed” 

“You confuse me for a fool. She couldn’t ever…why would she..could…” Gales voice trailed off, his finger that was pointed up falling to his side. “She could never love me.”

“You bring your insecurities into your otherwise rational mind. That does not make a fool, just a deeply scarred man.” The blue moon continued, “but soon I will disappear. Do you want to spend another night talking to me, or the woman you care for.”

“I care for her.” Gale repeated, brushing his fingers through his hair, he cared. He cared if you got hurt, if you smiled at his stupid jokes. He cared if you walked next to him instead of the others, he cared so deeply and truly. 

He loved. He loved hard and true. He wanted to never be alone again, he wanted to show you his whole world, share his heart and learn yours through and through. 

“I do..I do love her.” He let out a sigh, relieved? Perhaps. “I can’t let my happiness….our happiness slip by.”

“Thank you, moon.” He smiled up at the sky, the sun moments away from peaking its head above, turning night to day in a flourish of colors. “I’ll tell her everything.”

Gale finally dared open his eyes, which were closed tightly as he recounted his night to you. His eyes still tilted downward, however, as, honestly? He was terrified of what his story made you feel. Joy? Happy to hear his confession? Guilt, perhaps? For having to let him down gently? 

“What do you think?”

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

I have no future plans to make this a two parter.

Tag list, tell me if you want to be added!

@shyminnie07 @makers-breath @claryvoyantfray @black-sapphic

(Consider supporting me on Ko-fi)

[tadpolesonalgae]

Blurbs

Below, you will find:

Revelling + Amren Swimming + Koschei Overstimulation + Azriel* Bad Memories + Feyre

Revelling w/ Amren

I’m not sorry by DEAN

Her blood red lips split in a feline grin, “are you sure about that, lamb?”

A shiver of excitement thrills down your spine at the name—her preferred blood type. “I wouldn’t have said it were I not entirely sure, Amren.” You know your eyes are sparkling with playful challenge, but she makes no move to haul you from the ballroom. Instead, she leans back against the wall, watching you with those sharp silver eyes of hers.

“I think the wine is making you dumb,” she croons, making you frown. “I’m perfectly aware. Besides, you’ve had more than me,” you counter, flicking your eyes pointedly to the glass in her elegantly pointed hand, the red liquid reminding you of the blood she so used to adore.

Her smile is coy, and she raised the glass to her lips, taking a slow sip while you watch intently. “I don’t think I should need to remind you, but I am much older than you. I know how to handle my alcohol.” She gives you a look that says unlike you.

Your features twist into a frown and you make to push off the wall, “fine.”

Silver eyes flick to you over the rim of her wine. Your own lips fashion into a playful smile, “I’ll find me fun elsewhere, then.”

Swimming in Koschei’s lake

Leni by GoodBooks

Talons made of death wrap around your torso, and you freeze. He’s caught you.

Limbs tremble, muscles spasming as your very world is ripped out from beneath your feet.

“What are you?”

The voice is unlike anything you’ve ever heard: a deep, animalistic rasp, sounding like rock against rock and you can picture how sparks would fly.

“You’re not one of the fae. What’s a creature like you doing in my lake?”

Your breathing catches, words a distant thought as your vision blurs. “I’m sorry,” you raps, whimpering. “I’ll never come here again. Please just— let me go.”

He hums, and it sounds like he’s smiling. The claws tighten, dragging you deeper into the lake, your gills flapping as you fight to keep your breathing regular, even as you squirm in his grip. “Please. I had no idea this was your lake. I was trying to escape the hunters. Please, I’m sorry.”

He’s quiet for a little and you brace for the crushing impact of his grip but it never comes. Instead, “show me.”

You stiffen in his grip, warily opening your large, dark eyes—eyes made for darkness, yet that are unable to breech his. “Show you?” You ask softly, trying not to stammer or stumble.

A noise like leather stretching sounds, and you have the every feeling he’s smiling. “Show me your hunters.”

Overstimulation w/ Azriel

Damaged by Blood On The Dance Floor

Pleasure rolls across your skin, waves of heated sunlight cresting over you again and again.

Your toes curl as he doesn’t let up, head tipping back into the pillows as his cock touches that spot deep inside of you. His shadows build over your clit and your vision turns blinding white, colour fading as the darkness flicks and nips at the sensitive bud.

Words are stolen from your lips, dragged into his own mouth as he swallows your sounds greedily. In the back of your mind, you’re aware of his quiet whispers, saying you’re being so good, that you just need to give him a few more, that if you can manage to get up onto your hands and knees maybe he’ll go a little easier.

Of course they’re all sweet lies. He’ll be working on you until the sun is rising over the city, spilling into your room like how he’s spilled deep inside your heat again and again. So much that it’s dripping down your thighs, staining the sheets as he pumps you full.

But sunrise is still hours away, and you haven’t even reached double digits yet. He’s going to work you to your breaking point, and only then will he allow you a moment to rest. A few minutes if you’re really lucky.

Aching arousal warms your belly at the thought—knowing you’re free to yield to him entirely, and he’ll take care of you.

Memories of the Hewn City w/ Feyre

Rise by Skillet

Flame singes the hairs of your arms, and you bolt upright, breath curling in the cold Night air.

Vision goes blurry as the memories crush down on you.

The door flies open, and instantly she’s at your side, comforting you, holding you tight, hugging you against her. “Hey, it’s okay sweetness. You’re not there anymore. You’re with me.” She cups your cheeks, “look at me. Look at me, sweet thing.”

Your lower lip wobbles but you manage to look at her through teary eyes, skin still stinging with the phantom pain of a leather whip.

She smiles gently, stroking your skin with such aching reverence. “You’re out. You got out, remember. You’re with our court now,” she smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “My Court.”

You cry more, but for a different set of reasons. Sobs wrack your body, ravaging your lungs as you remember the burning flame, the crack of a whip, the stink of blood and the acrid tang of urine in air. “It was so real…” you stammer quietly, sobbing into her arms as the nightmare lingers, skin aching with memories.

She can do nothing but hold you, keeping you wrapped in her warmth. You’ve made it clear you don’t want her to remove those memories, but it’s so difficult to watch you wake like this night after night.

Still, she won’t go against your wishes.

She’ll keep you close, and hold you until the sun comes up.

General Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks

Az Taglist: @azrielshadows1nger @jurdanpotter @positivewitch @nightcourt-daydreaming

[supernaturalscribe67]

Favors

Words: 6,851

Pov: 3rd Person

Pairing: Crowley x Male!Reader

Warning(s): Language, SMUT (18+), Rimming, Teasing, Male on Male penetration, brief orgasm denial, Bottom!Reader, Top!Crowley

Summary: (Y/N) is a well-known researcher and hacker in the hunting industry, dedicating his life to protecting innocent people all around the United States. What happens when the King of Hell comes to him with a problem he needs help solving and a deal that (Y/N) cannot turn down?

Request:

Hope you are having a good day/night

Omg I absolutely love the Crowley x older Winchester brother reader fic you did for me

I was wondering if I could request Crowley x Male reader smut

@xweirdo101x

A/N: I haven't written smut in so long, I hope you like it! Plus, this is my first time writing male/male smut, so feedback is really appreciated! MINORS DNI!!!!! Much Love!

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It was beautiful that morning. Light barely shone over the treeline, the warm colors faintly casting a reflection across the lake that sat outside of the small house. The ground was littered with red, orange, and yellow leaves, decorating it like some cheesy floor pattern on a Welcome Mat. The wind whipped through the branches, conducting the trees in a synchronized dance. Morning Doves sang their harmonious tune. 

It was 8:30 AM. (Y/N) sat peacefully in the rocking chair that was nestled in the corner of the aged porch. A blanket draped over his lap, and a warm cup of steaming coffee in his grasp. It was mornings like that that gave him a sense of serenity, that reminded him of the world outside of his profession. That was why, in the mornings, he had one rule. One simple rule; 

No phone calls before nine. 

Granted, lives were at stake. Hunters all across the United States were taking on various jobs as he sat there, and some needed information quicker than others. He made an exception to the rule in case of an emergency, but nothing more. Most of his life was consumed with research and phone calls while he sat in a stuffy room near the back of the house. He knew that, when his reputation in the hunting community became well-known, he would need to set some rules and boundaries to allow himself some personal time. Some time to relax and reflect. 

Not everyone followed those rules, however. 

A buzz from his phone sounded next to him. It sat on a small, rusted round table next to the rocking chair. (Y/N)’s gaze turned towards the phone as it shifted with each violent vibration across the metal. He could feel the vibrating under his feet against the wood. Across the screen, Sam Winchester was written. A heavy, yet somehow content, sigh escaped past his lips as he reached over and picked up his phone. A part of him said that he should ignore it, but the other was telling him that it could be urgent. The Winchesters rarely got in contact with him before noon. 

“Hello?” He answered, his voice deep and calm. 

“Hey, (Y/N)! Dean and I were wondering if you could look something up for us?” Sam’s voice rang through the receiver, a little too cheery first thing in the morning, in (Y/N)’s opinion. They must have been up for hours by then. 

“Is the information urgent?” 

There was a long pause. “Well…”

“Mr. Winchester, what is my rule?” 

Another long pause. “No phone calls before nine.”

“Exactly, unless there was someone actively dying and we were under a time constraint. Are we on a time constraint, Mr. Winchester?” 

“Please, call me Sam.” 

“Are we on a time constraint, Sam?” 

Pause. “No. We just wanted to get whatever information we could before we headed to the police station to talk to the officers.”

“You and I both know you’re going to gather even more evidence about the case after the fact, so I think it would be wise to just go ahead and make your way to the police station. They might answer some of your questions, they might not. Hell, you might have even more questions for me by the time you’re done.” 

“You’re right, you’re right. Uh…I guess I’ll…give you a call back when we’re done.”

“After nine, of course.” (Y/N) nodded slowly. 

“Right. After nine,” 

“Thank you, Sam. You know, I always love talking to you. You’re easier to communicate with than your brother.” 

Sam chuckled deeply. “Thanks, I get that a lot,”

“Well, it’s true. Anyway, go talk to the police, and then let me know of anything you might need, alright?” 

“Alright, bye,”

“Bye,” (Y/N) ended the phone call and replaced the phone in its original position. 

He brought the cup of coffee up to his face, blowing cool air onto the surface. Steam curled around the mug as he took a sip. There were some people he didn’t mind receiving phone calls from in the morning, during his off hours. Sam Winchester was one of them. Always so polite when he had to remind him, he almost didn’t mind having to repeat himself over and over again. He knew how stressful the physical aspect of the hunting life could be, but Sam was one who never let his anger appear evident when they conversed that early in the morning. His brother, on the other hand, seemed to hold all of the anger for both brothers on his sleeve. (Y/N) had many unpleasant conversations with the older Winchester, but he also had some satisfying ones. In the end, he didn’t mind working with the Winchesters. They were the ones that called him the most. They were the ones who kept him busy and were appreciative when he was able to give them the information that they were in search of. That much he was grateful for. 

“Hello, darling,” a scratchy, baritone voice broke the placid silence. 

(Y/N) showed no physical reaction, yet he felt as if his heart had lept into his throat. It raced rapidly and he felt the familiar sensation of gooseflesh appear on his arms. He couldn’t necessarily blame it on the cool breeze. In front of him, Crowley stood, hands deep in the pockets of his black peacoat. A smirk was placed on his lips, covered by the beard that had grown out since the last time (Y/N) saw him. 

He had met Crowley some years ago through the Winchesters. It was then he had gotten his first taste of the types of connections Sam and Dean had. When they originally told him about one of their contacts being the King of Hell, he was rather skeptical at first. Rumors travel fast in the hunting world, and (Y/N) knew all of them, especially the ones that star Sam and Dean Winchester. Yet, when he had initially met Crowley, he was pleasantly surprised. He never expected an individual with a clean, lavish appearance as he. He never expected the accent either. It had shocked him at first, but not negatively. In a way, he had always assumed that the King of Hell was going to be some grotesque monster that would seem as if they dwelled deep in a humid cave. He could blame that on his ignorance. 

Since then, the handful of times he had interactions with the King of Hell, he would not say they had been horrible. Quite the opposite, they had been fairly pleasant. Crowley was cordial towards him, speaking to him in, what (Y/N) had first assumed was, a respectful tone, but later concluded that it would be more accurate to call it professional. Crowley was charismatic, a businessman. He knew how to get what he wanted out of people, and (Y/N) could see why they fell for it each time. Crowley knew exactly what to say and when to say it. That accent of his could put anyone in a trance. 

(Y/N) sat the cup of coffee down on the side table beside his phone before he placed both of his hands in his lap, his fingers folded over one another. “Good morning, Crowley. How…unexpected of you to pop in this early in the morning.” 

“Quite,” Crowley paused as he looked around, studying his environment. “I must say, I never expected a man such as yourself to own a place with such beauty.” 

(Y/N) slowly nodded. “While I appreciate the backhanded compliment, I am currently off the clock. That is if you needed anything in the first place and didn’t just stop by for some idle chit-chat.” 

“I never ‘chit-chat’. I did come by to ask for your…assistance with something.” 

“As I have said, I am off the clock. If you need my help with anything, you can come back at nine o’clock.” 

A smirk appeared in the corner of Crowley’s mouth. “Check the time, darling,” 

(Y/N)’s eyes shifted over to his phone. Hesitantly, he reached over and clicked the screen, illuminating his background of deep purples and blues. 

9:01 A.M.

As he looked back over at Crowley, he noted that the smirk was still there. Crowley shrugged, the ruffle of fabric filling the silence. 

“It’s time to clock back in.” 

(Y/N let out a sigh as he slapped his hands onto his knees, standing from his seat. He caught the blanket before it was able to fall off and folded it thrice. He then turned and laid it over the back of the rocker. He placed his phone into his pocket, then grabbed his coffee mug, the steam having dissipated since Crowley had arrived. 

“Let’s head to my study, then,” he mumbled. 

He walked past Crowley towards the screen porch door. Before he had the chance to grab it, Crowley opened it for him, startling (Y/N) for a moment. (Y/N) nodded his head. 

“Such a gentleman.” He murmured and walked into the house, Crowley following soon after. 

The foyer was small but tidy, so it seemed bigger than it was. The new floors glimmered in the morning light, and the walls were decorated with various pieces of artwork. (Y/N) took pride in renovating the older house, making it a place he was happy to call his home. 

When he had found the house for sale, he was surprised, initially, by how little it cost. Seeing the state upon purchase made him understand the drop in price almost immediately. It took several months for him to turn the once run-down house into a livable place, one where he wasn’t afraid of catching asbestos poisoning every night. Since he completed the remodeling, he has made sure that the house is well-decorated, comfortable, and clean. 

To the right of the foyer was the entryway into the kitchen. It wasn’t that large, but with one person occupying the house, he found it unnecessary to include more counter space in the renovation. To the left was the living room, well-lit with natural light in the morning and even brighter with the overhead ceiling fan at night, comfortable enough to seat many different people if he ever decided to have guests over to mingle. Ahead of Crowley and (Y/N), down the hallway, sat three doors, all of them ajar. Directly ahead was his bedroom, to the left was the guest bathroom, and to the right was his study, the one place where (Y/N) found he was spending most of his time throughout the twenty-four hours of the day. 

(Y/N) kicked off his slides, placing them next to the front door, before replacing them with a pair of slippers. He then gestured down the hallway with his head. 

“This way,” he said as he began to walk down the hallway. 

The study was a masterpiece in it of itself. The walls directly beside the door and adjacent were lined with built-in bookshelves, courtesy of (Y/N) himself. On the shelves sat various centuries' worth of lore, categorized by decade, topic, and alphabetized by the last name of the author, if the author was known, that is. On the other wall sat large windows lined side-by-side, the curtains pulled back to allow sunlight in. Sitting at an angle in the middle of the floor was a heavy mahogany desk, similar to one that would be found in a lawyer’s or politician’s office. A rolling desk chair sat behind it, something cheap yet comfortable. On top of the desk were different books that were opened to certain pages that (Y/N) had left off on, a notebook with a ballpoint pen, an LED keyboard with a matching Bluetooth mouse, and a large, curved monitor with two smaller monitors on either side. Two chairs sat in front of the desk, a place where hunters had sat multiple times when visiting and discussing business with him. 

(Y/N) rounded the corner of the desk and sat down in the office chair, the cup still grasped between his hands. He took another sip of his coffee as he scanned over the cluttered surface of his desk. As he moved books out of the way, his tongue poked into his cheek. Finally, with a triumphant ‘ah’, he pulled the brown coaster from underneath one of the book spines. He placed his mug on top of it, bent down, and turned on his computer. 

“Alright, if you want to have a seat,” (Y/N) gestured to the chair. 

“I prefer to stand.” 

“Suit yourself,” he shrugged and typed his passcode rapidly into his keyboard. 

The three monitors lit up with work he had been focused on the day before. Carefully, he saved documents and exited out of files. When the files were all tucked away and his screens were cleared, he turned his attention back to Crowley. 

“Now, what is this problem you’re having? And, please be quick about it, I have some hunters that are going to be calling me back to gather information for them as well.” 

“The Winchesters can wait,” Crowley said as he stalked forward. 

(Y/N) fought back the urge to ask how Crowley had known the Winchesters were the ones to call, for he knew the answer already. 

“Now, I seem to be having a bit of a rogue demon problem.” Crowley began to pace around the room, his eyes seeming to study the different texts that lined the walls and the scenery outside. 

“Don’t we all?” 

“Mine’s a little different.” 

“How so?” 

“You see, I control the demons, right? Specifically, I control the deals that come in when humans summon us to the crossroads. I expect demons to persuade these people in some way to get these deals by possessing family members, friends, and the like, while others are sent when they are summoned to take these deals. It’s a rather layered process, too many demons, too many steps, but it works.” 

“I see,” (Y/N) hummed as he folded his hands on top of the desk, back slouched. 

“Recently, however, it has come to my attention that there have been several demons who don’t necessarily, well, like me.” 

“I can’t imagine why,” (Y/N) mumbled, his words dripping with sarcasm. 

Crowley ignored him. “And I’ve found out by a rather reliable source that a handful of demons have been rebelling against me. Some are just not persuading people as they are supposed to and running rampant in the street while others, the ones who are summoned, are taking these individuals' souls without giving anything in return. They mess with the deal.” 

“Do you not see that as a win in your situation? You get their soul no matter what, Crowley.” 

“Ah, you see, I do, but I am a man of my word.” He stopped and placed his hand on his chest. “When deals are made, they are not meant to be broken. They are taking their souls and sending them right back to the pathetic life that they came to fix. I don’t like humans as much as the next demon, but a deal is a deal, and it should not be messed with.”

“How…noble? What does this exactly have to do with me?” 

Crowley reached into his peacoat, pulling out a sheet of folded white paper. He walked over and placed it on (Y/N)’s desk. On it was a list of locations and dates neatly written in calligraphy. Most of the locations were paired with a date from a couple of days ago, some a couple of weeks, and some were marked from that very day.

“This is a list of all known demon locations and times that they were last seen there. The crossroads demons I can deal with on my own, they will be harder for someone like you to find, but these are the demons that were supposed to be possessing family members and the such. They’re lower-ranked demons than others, so they lack the necessary powers to teleport, makes them easier to find.” 

“And what am I supposed to do with this?” He gestured to the paper with his hands. 

“Find the demons on that computer of yours, tell me where they are, and I will take care of the rest.” 

(Y/N) slowly nodded. There had been many instances where he had been able to find the location of a monster for different hunters by hacking into various CCTV cameras across the country. Some places had more cybersecurity than others, but overall, it was a simple task, something he had picked up the first month or so after he started learning the art of hacking and coding. It wouldn’t take that long for him to track some of the demons. 

“Why should I help you?” 

“Think of it this way, darling,” Crowley walked over, stood behind the desk chair, and placed a hand on (Y/N)’s shoulder. 

The violent buzzing interrupted anything Crowley was going to say. (Y/N)’s legs vibrated in time with the buzzes. He reached into his pocket and fished out his phone. Sam Winchester flashed across the screen. He held up a finger to Crowley. 

“Hold on, I have to take this,” he said. 

Just before he was able to accept the call, however, Crowley snatched the phone from his hand. 

“Hey!” 

“Ah ah ah,” Crowley tsked and wagged a finger. “We are in the middle of a deal.” He ended the call and placed the phone in his pocket. 

(Y/N) clenched his jaw. He held out his hand. “Give it back, Crowley.” 

“Not until we finished our deal, darling,” 

“I never said we had a deal.” 

“Then it appears you’re not going to be getting your phone back.” 

“Crowley,” he growled. 

Crowley chuckled deeply, his chest rumbling. “So tense,” he smirked. “It must be hard. Being out here all by yourself. No ring on your finger, which means that you haven’t got a wife or husband. I’m guessing you don’t have a partner either, considering all you do is sit here and help other hunters.” Crowley slowly ran a finger over (Y/N)’s shoulder blades, eliciting a shiver from him. “How about this deal, then,” Crowley leaned down, his face merely inches from (Y/N)’s. “I get rid of some of your tension and you find the demons for me, deal?” 

Crowley’s breath was hot against (Y/N)’s face. The closeness caused his stomach to churn. (Y/N) wouldn’t deny that Crowley was an attractive man - demon, he corrected himself. He had thought so since the first time they met, yet he knew the dangers of getting involved with demons. That was why a small part of him was weary of the Winchesters, seeing how easily they got along with the King of Hell. ‘Got Along’ wasn’t necessarily as accurate as ‘tolerated’. He corrected himself again. When Crowley spoke with that accent, and when his voice was deep and gravelly, it was almost as if (Y/N) was hypnotized. 

That accent of his could put anyone in a trance.

“Crowley,” he breathed, unaware that his heart had begun to beat faster. 

“The demons get killed, I get what I want, and I leave you more satisfied than you have ever been before,” Crowley’s hand slowly moved up and began to trace along (Y/N)’s jawline. His fingers stopped when he got to (Y/N)’s chin. He tilted his head up so that they were looking into each other’s eyes, their noses brushing against one another. “Have we got a deal?” 

Crowley’s eyes were just as hypnotic as his voice. It was as if (Y/N) was staring into an iced glass of whiskey. It was hard to believe that, behind those eyes, stood a dark entity who controlled the deepest, darkest depths of Hell. Every fiber of his being was screaming at him, telling him that it was a bad idea, that he should retreat and reject the offer. 

(Y/N) was completely mesmerized. 

“Yes,” he whispered faintly. 

The corner of Crowley’s lips curled upward. “Then let’s kiss on it.” 

(Y/N) didn’t have a chance to respond before Crowley’s lips were on his. 

It was heated, hungry, and (Y/N) was slightly ashamed to admit that it had taken his breath away. Ashamed to admit just how engrossed in Crowley’s charismatic attitude he had been. Swiftly, (Y/N) stood from his chair and he was pressed against the desk in an instant. Crowley’s hands worked their way underneath (Y/N)’s t-shirt. It wasn’t long before Crowley’s coat and (Y/N)’s shirt were on the floor. As Crowley reached behind him to grab at the backs of his thighs, (Y/N) pressed his hands firmly on his chest. 

“Not here, not here,” he pulled back from his lips, panting from the lack of oxygen. “Let’s go to my room.” 

Crowley smirked and ran his tongue over his bottom lip. “Lead the way, darling,” he pulled back. 

(Y/N) was quick to pull himself away from the desk and turn to walk out of the room. His strides were long and silent, almost as if he was floating out of the room and towards his bedroom. Crowley followed behind him, moving just as fast if not a little bit faster. He tore off his tie and dropped it onto the floor as they entered the room. Their lips slammed into one another once more as they fell back onto the bed unceremoniously, their bodies bouncing. 

(Y/N) was incredibly hard, he felt like a teenager on prom night. He tried to think back and remember the last time he had sex. Had it been two, maybe three weeks? Months. No. Two or three years, it had been. He had lost count. Crowley had been right, he had been so absorbed in his work that he had neglected the wants he never knew he had. The needs. He had found himself to be so uptight as of late that the lack of sex hadn’t been something he considered a factor with such a change of mood. Maybe the sex was just what he needed. It seemed that Crowley knew more about him than he realized. 

(Y/N)’s primary goal was getting Crowley’s clothes off. He wanted to see him, wanted to take in every inch of him. Before he was able to grab at Crowley’s belt, however, Crowley pulled back and lifted a hand to stop him. Again, (Y/N) was breathless. He stopped and looked up at him with a questioning gaze. 

“Let’s skip the stripping, shall we?” His voice had gotten deeper, darker. His voice alone should have sent the sirens blaring and the red flags waving in (Y/N)’s head, telling him to stop, telling him that it was a bad idea, but all it did was deepen the lust and make his cock twitch in his boxers. 

With the snap of his fingers, their clothes had vanished. Immediately, (Y/N) noticed the temperature change, causing his nipples to harden into stiff peaks. He wasn’t worried about his own body, however. His attention was all on Crowley. 

He took his time to examine his lover. His eyes trailed. He noted the hair that was meticulously placed over his pecs, the curve of his stomach. Crowley didn’t have a six-pack, but he was nowhere near fat. A slight pudge was probably the best adjective to use. He spotted the tattoos almost instantly, something that came as a surprise to him but wasn’t unappreciated. Crowley’s happy trail started right below his belly button and trailed down to his pelvis, and the mere sight of Crowley’s cock made (Y/N)’s eyes go wide. 

Crowley was huge. 

Bigger than he had ever seen on a lover before. 

To say he was surprised was a massive understatement. He never expected Crowley to be sporting a cock of that size. (Y/N) felt inept next to him. Yet, despite his unbelievable length, (Y/N) felt his mouth water and cock twitch at the thought of it being inside of him. Crowley chuckled. 

“Like what you see?” He questioned. 

“Yes,” (Y/N) breathed, although he knew the question was rhetorical. 

Crowley’s chest rumbled as he leaned down and began to leave kisses down (Y/N)’s neck, down towards the valley of his pecs. He stopped at his nipples, giving each of them attention with small licks and a suckle. A gasp fell from (Y/N)’s lips as his hands occupied themselves with exploring Crowley’s body. (Y/N)’s mind was fogged over, the feeling of being that close to someone already so intense. He really did feel like a teenager. 

“You’re so beautiful, love,” Crowley purred as his lips traveled further down his body, ghosting over his stomach. “Almost disappoints me that I’m going to leave you a whimpering mess by the time I’m done.” 

“Crowley, please,” 

“Begging already, I see.” 

Crowley’s lips moved down until they reached (Y/N)’s own happy trail. Just before he reached (Y/N)’s cock, he pulled back, earning a disappointed groan from the man below. The smirk on his face told (Y/N) that Crowley loved the effect that he was having on him. That it was boosting his ego, and if he had been in the right state of mind, he would have stopped right there. The King of Hell didn’t need more of a complex than he already had. 

“Spread your legs for me.” 

(Y/N) complied, legs parting as Crowley moved onto his stomach. He left kisses on (Y/N)’s inner thighs. 

“Have you had anything in this pretty little hole recently?” Crowley asked. 

(Y/N) hesitated for a moment before shaking his head. “No,” he admitted. 

“Then I guess I’ll have to open you up, won’t I? I don’t want to hurt you.” 

It was an oddly sweet sentiment, coming from a demon. Something that a part of (Y/N) didn’t really expect. Yet the other part of him told him that it made sense with Crowley’s character. He was a businessman. He made deals and he kept them. He wanted him to feel good, and (Y/N) wouldn’t be satisfied with his part of the deal if he was in pain. 

“I have lube in my nightstand,” (Y/N) spoke up. He could feel Crowley’s hot breath hovering over his exposed hole. 

“I’ll get to it, darling,” 

Crowley’s tongue lapped at his hole, and (Y/N) swore that he would come from that single lick. He couldn’t hold back the moan as Crowley’s tongue worked around the pink muscle, almost teasing it. The tip of his tongue slipped past the ring for a moment before retreating. Crowley’s arms wrapped around both of his thighs and seemed to pull him closer with godly strength. Then, when he was closer, Crowley’s wet tongue finally slipped past the tight muscle and wiggled its way into his hole. 

A deep moan escaped past (Y/N)’s lips as one of his hands shot down and gripped Crowley’s hair. His head was thrown back in ecstasy, thankful for the pillow that was underneath him, thankful that he had decided to move to the bedroom instead of the study. He had concluded that the lack of sex didn’t make him feel like a teenager again, he was a teenager. Rather, it seemed he had a teenager’s lack of control. His cock was twitching, begging to be touched, begging for Crowley to wrap his hand around it and stroke. (Y/N) was too lost in pleasure to do it on his own, and it was just foreplay. Crowley was only preparing him for what was yet to come. If Crowley had him seeing stars already, he knew that Crowley’s prediction of him turning into a ‘whimpering mess’ would be accurate. 

Crowley’s tongue was skilled. He reached places inside of him that (Y/N) didn’t even know existed. All too soon, he felt the familiar jerk of his balls, the tensing muscles begging for release. The knot in his stomach was forming. 

“C-Crowley,” he moaned. “I’m gonna come. I-” 

Crowley hummed against him and pulled back as soon as the warning came to be. Visibly, (Y/N) relaxed, but his face expressed disappointment, much to Crowley’s amusement. 

“Already close to release, and I haven’t even touched your cock yet,” Crowley teased, and the words caused (Y/N)’s cheeks to darken with blush. “Can’t have that. I want this to last. I want you to break.” 

Crowley hovered over (Y/N) again, their noses inches apart. (Y/N) could feel Crowley’s cock brush against his, causing his cock to twitch violently. Again, Crowley chuckled. He turned his head and reached over to the nightstand, opening the small drawer. It wasn’t as cluttered as the top of (Y/N) desk, but he had to admit that it needed to be cleaned out. It didn’t take long to find the bottle of lube, though, barely used. When Crowley moved back, he kissed him. That kiss was softer, sweet, the complete opposite of the others they had shared. 

He pulled away and sat up, leaning back on his heels as he uncapped the lube. He squirted a generous amount onto his right index and middle finger before he set the lube to the side, open and ready if he were to need more. He rubbed his fingers together to spread out the liquid before lowering his hand to (Y/N) wet, needy hole. His index finger began to circle it and he saw how (Y/N)’s cock twitched again. The smirk remained on his face. 

“Are you ready?” He asked softly. 

“Yes,” (Y/N) barely gave him time to finish the question. “Yes, Crowley, please,” 

“I’ll never get over how sweet that word sounds.” 

Crowley pushed one finger into him and the stars promptly returned. (Y/N)’s mouth hung open as if he were to say something, but nothing came to mind. Words didn’t exist anymore, only Crowley and his fingers. It didn’t take long for Crowley to begin to pump his finger into him, his dark eyes focused on (Y/N)’s face, intensely taking in every reaction he gave. Sweat began to glisten on (Y/N)’s brow, dripping down the side of his face and onto the sheet below. His hands were fisted at his sides, straining the bedding. When Crowley felt his hole loosen even the slightest, he added his middle finger. 

After several seconds of having Crowley insert his second finger, the knot was back and forming inside (Y/N)’s stomach. It was tight and just kept getting tighter with each stroke. When Crowley’s fingers curled ever so slightly, (Y/N)’s body violently jerked and he had to hold onto the bed as he fought back the orgasm that was quickly approaching. He went to say something, but all that came out were moans and whimpers of pleasure. He didn’t trust himself to stop Crowley before his impending climax. 

Of course, Crowley was observant himself and knew when to back away. 

Crowley pulled his hand away from him, leaving his hole empty and his mind screaming for release. Crowley brought his fingers to his lips, wrapping them around his digits as he suckled the leftover lube and flavor off of them. He quirked a brow as he took his fingers out of his mouth. 

“Strawberry flavored?” He questioned. 

(Y/N)’s chest rose and fell at a rapid pace. His chest and face gleamed with sweat, ever more apparent because of the morning light that filtered past his blinds. 

“It was all they had left.” He was able to mutter. 

A deep chuckle rumbled within Crowley’s chest as he grabbed the lube from beside him once again. That time, he put some into the palm of his right hand and capped the bottle, setting it back onto the side table. He wrapped his hand around his cock and lathered it up with the lube. He hissed, jaw clenched at the cool temperature. 

“You don’t mind raw, do you, darling?” He asked as he shifted in the bed so that he hovered directly above (Y/N) writhing body. 

“No,” (Y/N) was quick to respond. “No, I don’t mind just, please, please Crowley.” His desperate cries would have normally made him embarrassed, ashamed of the mess he had turned into, but he couldn’t care less. His brain didn’t belong to him anymore. It belonged to Crowley. His body wasn’t his, it was Crowley’s. All of him belonged to Crowley. 

And he was fine with that. 

“I’ll go slow,” Crowley said. “Let me know if it’s too much for you to handle.” 

It was too much to handle when Crowley was eating him out, but (Y/N) knew what he meant. He gave a quick nod of understanding. His hands immediately moved from the sheets to Crowley. One hand was placed on Crowley’s shoulder, while the other reached back, fingers entangled in the mess of brown hair. 

One of Crowley’s hands was placed on the bed, holding himself up, while the other hand reached down and grabbed his cock. He guided it to (Y/N)’s hole and, when he felt comfortable with the positioning, he moved his hand and placed it on the other side of (Y/N)’s body. Slowly, he moved his hips forward, the head of his cock pushing past the ring of muscle with some resistance before he entered him. 

(Y/N) wasn’t seeing stars anymore - he was seeing a whole galaxy. The slight painful strain mixed with bliss as Crowley pushed the head of his cock inside of him was almost too much to bear at first. He felt like his balls were going to explode with pleasure. His nails dug into Crowley’s shoulder and scalp as he continued to inch his way inside. Crowley studied (Y/N)’s face, the way his mouth hung open and eyes closed. When half of his cock was engulfed in his warmth, Crowley pulled back out a couple of inches before he thrust back inside. (Y/N) couldn’t stop the sounds from escaping his lips. Equally, as such, Crowley let out a deep, guttural groan. 

“So tight, darling. So…fucking tight,” he growled out, sounding almost feral. 

“M-More, Crowley, please, more,” (Y/N)’s voice had gone up in pitch and the need was laced throughout his tone. 

Crowley didn’t need any more indication. His hips began to pick up in speed, slowly at first, but after a while of making sure that his lover wasn’t in any pain, he went faster. While (Y/N) wasn’t able to take all of Crowley’s length inside of him, what was able to fit resulted in a cacophony of moans that echoed throughout the room. The bed rocked, the frame squeaking underneath the pressure as Crowley rhythmically snapped his hips. 

When (Y/N) had gotten used to the pleasure - ‘used to’ wasn’t the right phrasing, but rather adapted to it - he was able to open his eyes long enough to reach up, cup Crowley’s cheeks, and bring himself up to kiss him roughly. Crowley returned the kiss. Their tongues danced with each other. (Y/N) could taste a mixture of himself and the strawberry-flavored lube on Crowley’s tongue. 

Each thrust brought a new wave of pleasure, Crowley’s cock brushing against his prostate. (Y/N)’s cock and balls jerked and he knew that he wasn’t going to last much longer. He pulled away, one of his hands falling to Crowley’s chest, which was equally as sweat-covered as his. It was difficult to find the strength to speak, at first, but he mustered up what little control of himself he had to do so.  

“Crowley,” he moaned. “I’m gonna come. Please, can I come?” 

“Not yet,” Crowley sounded breathless. “I want to come with you.” 

“Want you to come inside me.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes!” He moaned loudly as Crowley’s cock stroked his prostate again. 

Crowley growled as his lips dove down towards (Y/N)’s neck, littering it with small kisses, teeth scraping over his skin. 

“I can’t wait to fill you up. Can’t wait to make you mine,” Crowley growled. 

(Y/N) did everything in his power to hold back his orgasm, the one thing he had been trying to reach all this time. It became harder and harder the more they went on. Finally, he felt Crowley’s thrusts start to sputter, and Crowley’s grunts and moans were getting higher in pitch. Crowley reached between their bodies, his hand finding (Y/N)’s cock and he began to stroke it in time with his thrusts. 

“Come.” 

And that was all the permission he needed. (Y/N) came hard, cock spasming violently in Crowley’s hand and balls convulsing as he shot his load onto his and Crowley’s chests and stomachs. Planets, stars, galaxies, universes, it was almost as if (Y/N) was lost in time and space itself. If he didn’t know any better, he swore he would have passed out from the pleasure had it not been for Crowley keeping him grounded. 

Following his orgasm, he felt Crowley still inside of him and, soon, felt the warm sensation of his load deep within his hole. They stayed there, interlocked with one another, their bodies completely frozen in time. What felt like ages later, Crowley slowly pulled out of him, a wet pop echoing throughout the room, before he collapsed beside him on the bed. (Y/N)’s arms fell beside him, his chest moving rapidly as he struggled to regain his composure. 

As he lay there, post-orgasmic clarity set in. 

He had fucked the King of Hell. 

More importantly, he had fucked the King of Hell and liked it. 

God, he was such a terrible hunter. 

His eyes trailed over to Crowley, who was still recovering from his own orgasm. He could see faint, red scratch marks across his face, chest, and right shoulder. (Y/N) didn’t even realize his nails had dug into him until then. Crowley turned his head towards him. 

“Well you weren’t the whimpering mess that I assumed you would be,” Crowley began. “But I’ll take begging any day.” 

(Y/N) couldn’t help but roll his eyes and he had found the strength to speak to be gone by that point. What was he even supposed to say to him? Thanks for the sex, I’ll go find your demons now? With one-night stands, he would always just get up, grab his clothes, and walk out of the motel room, but this was a little different. He was in his own home. Was he just supposed to kick Crowley out? That would seem a bit rude, wouldn’t it? 

“Care for a cuddle?” Crowley’s words broke his train of thought.

“A what?” His voice had returned. 

“A cuddle.” 

(Y/N) snorted. “The King of Hell wants to cuddle.” He said it more like a statement rather than a question.

“I take care of my lovers, (Y/N). Aftercare is just as important as foreplay.” 

(Y/N) opened his mouth to speak, but found, again, that the words were lost to him. He just gave a simple nod and the two of them moved closer together. Crowley wrapped an arm underneath his shoulders and over his waist, pulling their naked bodies close. (Y/N) placed one of his hands on Crowley’s torso, his head lying against his chest. A part of him was expecting to hear a heartbeat echo in his ear, but the lack thereof only reminded him of his sins. They sat in silence for a while, embracing one another. Crowley’s hand slowly rubbed (Y/N)’s hips, and it made him realize just how sore he was going to be for a while. 

He didn’t care. 

“You know,” Crowley finally spoke up. “If you ever become too tense, you can always give me a call. I have no problem giving in to your needs.” 

“I’m not that desperate,” (Y/N) mumbled. 

Crowley chuckled, and (Y/N) could feel the vibration against his fingertips and cheek. “I beg to differ, darling, with the way you were just begging for release.” 

(Y/N)’s cheeks heated up. He knew what he had done was wrong, but whoever said that hunters had to be perfect? Or right, for that matter. No one had gotten hurt - maybe he would hurt for a while after this, but that was beside the point - and demons were going to be hunted down as a result of their deal. Crowley wasn’t a selfish lover, quite the contrary. He was the best that (Y/N) ever had. He was only human. Despite the moral aspect of it all, perhaps it wouldn’t be such a bad thing to have someone like Crowley just a call away. 

For his needs. 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” 

[emilybeemartin]

Inktober Days 4-6

Day 4: "Dodge"

Watch your head! If the speleothems in Carlsbad Caverns don’t get you, the bats might. Each night throughout the summer, thousands of Brazilian free-tail bats come spiraling (always counter-clockwise) out of the entrance. They fly off in search of insects and straggle back before dawn to roost inside the caverns.

Day 5: "Map"

When you enter a national park, the very first thing you’re given by the entry station ranger is a map. And while this prompt is another one that could apply to any park, some places need that map more than others. Voyageurs National Park is a maze of lakes, islands, forests, and wetlands. It’s the kind of place where if you venture off without a detailed map and navigational tools, there’s a decent chance you won’t be coming back.

Day 6: "Golden"

My enduring memories of conducting field research in Bryce Canyon are saturated in golden light. Coppers, ochres, scarlets, and creams all streak together across towering rock hoodoos. Whether gazing out from the rim or staring up from the canyon floor, the sun turns this beautiful park into a gilded treasure hall.

[beautifulmars]

HiPOD: A Window into the Past

The layered sedimentary deposits inside the giant canyons of Mars have puzzled scientists for decades. These light toned deposits have fine, horizontal laminations that are unlike the rugged rim rock of the Valles Marineris.

Various ideas for the origin of the layered sediments have suggested lake deposits, wind blown dust and sand, or volcanic materials that erupted after the canyon was formed, and possibly filled with water.

One particular layered deposit, called Ceti Mensa, attracted attention because its deep red color in images collected by the Viking Orbiter mission during the 1970s. Located in west Candor Chasma in the north of the Valles Marineris, Ceti Mensa is an undulating plateau that rises 3 kilometers above the canyon floor and is bounded by steep scarps up to 1.5 kilometers in height. Deep red hues are on the west-facing scarp in particular. The red tint may be due to the presence of crystalline ferric oxide, suggesting that the material may have been exposed to heat or water, or both.

Spectral measurements by the Mars Express OMEGA and MRO CRISM instruments confirm the presence of hydrated sulfate salts, such as gypsum and kieserite . These minerals are important for two reasons. On Earth, they typically form in wet environments, suggesting that the deposits in Ceti Mensa may have formed under water. On Mars, these deposits could be valuable to future Martian colonists as fertilizer for growing crops.

In a view of the colorful west-facing scarp of Ceti Mensa, we see the interior layers of the deposit, giving us a window into the past history of the sediments as they accumulated over time. We also see layers that were previously too small to view, and a surface that is thoroughly fractured, eroded into knobs, and partially covered by young dark sand dunes. (Enhanced color cutout is less than 1 km across.

ID: ESP_051841_1750 date: 17 August 2017 altitude: 265 km

NASA/JPL-Caltech/UArizona

[little-peril-stories]

🌈 ROYGBIV Tag Game

Rules: Search your your writing for the colours of the rainbow and post the excerpt.

I wasn't tagged in this. But I wanted to do it. :) so I’m posting it for my bday. Happy birthday to me 🎉🍰🌈

open tag ✨

RED - The Court of Rogues

I’m standing now, drawing a blade down her perfect skin, watching redness well up where the knife slices into her flesh.

ORANGE - The Prince of Thieves

Gusting wind, stronger than before, kicks up a tornado of leaves, recently fallen and vibrant against the slowly dying grass. I watch them swirl, frantically at first and then lazily, like orange and yellow snowflakes, until they fall and coat the ground again.

YELLOW - The Queen of Lies

Of course it was worth it, the thief told the voice, even though there was nobody in the world who would believe him if he said those words out loud. But he had gifted Hatchett a bloody nose when he tried to run, and that was something. There was still an ugly bruise on the constable’s ugly face, yellow like rancid butter, and the thief seized a tiny piece of glee and satisfaction every time he saw it.

GREEN - The Queen of Lies

Hazel eyes, red-rimmed and heavy-lidded and watery and glazed, locked onto hers, and Breanna’s heart shuddered and stopped. What a peculiar colour were those eyes—a mix of green and gold, staring at her from a dirt-streaked face dusted with freckles. As his eyes closed again and his head fell forward, a shock of red-brown hair tumbled over his face, and she could see nothing but the sickening crimson canvas of his back.

BLUE - The Court of Rogues

It’s the sunset over the lake, painted in blues and purples and reds and pinks and oranges, forming a gentle gradient of looming night to the sun’s farewell glow. Deep greens for the trees along the shore, laden with leaves in the height of summer. The very rocks, it seems, upon which we now sit.

INDIGO DARK BLUE - The Prince of Thieves

A ragged breath catches in my chest. They’re dragging someone in. A girl—a girl? Good god, it’s her—that girl. They’re leading her down the corridor, the pale cotton of her dress blinding against the dark blue of their uniforms as she stumbles along.

VIOLET - The Prince of Thieves

I never had much chance to go walking around in the woods, but the more I imagine it, the more he seems to belong in the picture. He walks easily, unhurried and unhurt, reaching curious hands to brush the bark of an oak, the silk of a fern, the blush of a violet. Intact clothes, unspoiled by blood and grime, skin clean and free of a single bruise. I bet that hair practically glows red when the sun hits it just right. Especially in the light of sunset, when the sky turns to pink and orange flame.

[spacetimewithstuartgary]

NASA’s Perseverance Rover to Begin Long Climb Up Martian Crater Rim

Aug. 14, 2024

After 2½ years exploring Jezero Crater’s floor and river delta, the rover will ascend to an area where it will search for more discoveries that could rewrite Mars’ history.

NASA’s Perseverance Mars rover will soon begin a monthslong ascent up the western rim of Jezero Crater that is likely to include some of the steepest and most challenging terrain the rover has encountered to date. Scheduled to start the week of Aug. 19, the climb will mark the kickoff of the mission’s new science campaign — its fifth since the rover landed in the crater on Feb. 18, 2021.

“Perseverance has completed four science campaigns, collected 22 rock cores, and traveled over 18 unpaved miles,” said Perseverance project manager Art Thompson of NASA’s Jet Propulsion Laboratory in Southern California. “As we start the Crater Rim Campaign, our rover is in excellent condition, and the team is raring to see what’s on the roof of this place.”

Two of the priority regions the science team wants to study at the top of the crater are nicknamed “Pico Turquino” and “Witch Hazel Hill.” Imagery from NASA’s Mars orbiters indicates that Pico Turquino contains ancient fractures that may have been caused by hydrothermal activity in the distant past.

Orbital views of Witch Hazel show layered materials that likely date from a time when Mars had a very different climate than today. Those views have revealed light-toned bedrock similar to what was found at “Bright Angel,” the area where Perseverance recently discovered and sampled the “Cheyava Falls” rock, which exhibits chemical signatures and structures that could possibly have been formed by life billions of years ago when the area contained running water.

It's Sedimentary

During the river delta exploration phase of the mission, the rover collected the only sedimentary rock ever sampled from a planet other than Earth. Sedimentary rocks are important because they form when particles of various sizes are transported by water and deposited into a standing body of water; on Earth, liquid water is one of the most important requirements for life as we know it.

A study published Wednesday, Aug. 14, in AGU Advances chronicles the 10 rock cores gathered from sedimentary rocks in an ancient Martian delta, a fan-shaped collection of rocks and sediment that formed billions of years ago at the convergence of a river and a crater lake.

The core samples collected at the fan front are the oldest, whereas the rocks cored at the fan top are likely the youngest, produced when flowing water deposited sediment in the western fan.

“Among these rock cores are likely the oldest materials sampled from any known environment that was potentially habitable,” said Tanja Bosak, a geobiologist at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology in Cambridge and member of Perseverance’s science team. “When we bring them back to Earth, they can tell us so much about when, why, and for how long Mars contained liquid water and whether some organic, prebiotic, and potentially even biological evolution may have taken place on that planet.”

Onward to the Crater Rim

As scientifically intriguing as the samples have been so far, the mission expects many more discoveries to come.

“Our samples are already an incredibly scientifically compelling collection, but the crater rim promises to provide even more samples that will have significant implications for our understanding of Martian geologic history,” said Eleni Ravanis, a University of Hawaiì at Mānoa scientist on Perseverance’s Mastcam-Z instrument team and one of the Crater Rim Campaign science leads. “This is because we expect to investigate rocks from the most ancient crust of Mars. These rocks formed from a wealth of different processes, and some represent potentially habitable ancient environments that have never been examined up close before.”

Reaching the top of the crater won’t be easy. To get there, Perseverance will rely on its auto-navigation capabilities as it follows a route that rover planners designed to minimize hazards while still giving the science team plenty to investigate. Encountering slopes of up to 23 degrees on the journey (rover drivers avoid terrain that would tilt Perseverance more than 30 degrees), the rover will have gained about 1,000 feet (300 meters) in elevation by the time it summits the crater’s rim at a location the science team has dubbed “Aurora Park.”

Then, perched hundreds of meters above a crater floor stretching 28 miles (45 kilometers) across, Perseverance can begin the next leg of its adventure.

More Mission Information

A key objective of Perseverance’s mission on Mars is astrobiology, including caching samples that may contain signs of ancient microbial life. The rover will characterize the planet’s geology and past climate, to help pave the way for human exploration of the Red Planet and as the first mission to collect and cache Martian rock and regolith.

NASA’s Mars Sample Return Program, in cooperation with ESA (European Space Agency), is designed to send spacecraft to Mars to collect these sealed samples from the surface and return them to Earth for in-depth analysis.

The Mars 2020 Perseverance mission is part of NASA’s Moon to Mars exploration approach, which includes Artemis missions to the Moon that will help prepare for human exploration of the Red Planet.

NASA’s Jet Propulsion Laboratory, which is managed for the agency by Caltech, built and manages operations of the Perseverance rover.

TOP IMAGE: This panorama shows the area NASA’s Perseverance Mars rover will climb in coming months to crest Jezero Crater’s rim. It is made up of 59 images taken by the rover’s Mastcam-Z on Aug. 4. Credit: NASA/JPL-Caltech/ASU/MSSS

CENTRE IMAGE: One of the navigation cameras aboard NASA’s Perseverance Mars rover captured this view looking back at the “Bright Angel” area on July 30, the 1,224th Martian day, or sol, of the mission. Credit: NASA/JPL-Caltech

LOWER IMAGE: This map shows the route NASA’s Perseverance Mars rover will take (in blue) as it climbs the western rim of Jezero Crater, first reaching “Dox Castle,” then investigating the “Pico Turquino” area before approaching “Witch Hazel Hill.”   Credit: NASA/JPL-Caltech/University of Arizona

[wayti-blog]

"NASA has announced the first detection of possible biosignatures in a rock on the surface of Mars. The rock contains the first martian organic matter to be detected by the Perseverance rover, as well as curious discolored spots that could indicate the past activity of microorganisms."

"Since landing in Jezero crater a few years ago, Perseverance has traversed a series of rocks formed nearly four billion years before present. Mars back then was far more habitable than the cold, dry, toxic red planet of today.

There were thousands of rivers and lakes, a thick atmosphere, and comfortable temperatures and chemical conditions for life. Many of the rocks in Jezero are sedimentary: mud, silt and sand dumped by a river flowing into a lake.

The new discovery concerns one of these rocks. Informally named "Cheyava Falls" (a waterfall in Arizona), it is a small reddish block of what looks like a mudstone, enriched with organic molecules. The rock is also laced with parallel white veins. Between the veins are millimeter-scale whitish spots with dark rims. For an astrobiologist, all these features are intriguing."

continue reading

[autumnrose11]

I wrote my first The Blue Castle fanfic! One-shot. It isn't much, but I hope you enjoy :)

***

If there was one thing Valancy loved on earth, it was long walks alone with Barney. 

She adored trotting beside him, his hand in hers as he pointed out a fern here, or a daisy there; the sound of his voice, his laughter that tinkled like golden bells, the way his eyes sparkled when the light caught them. 

One such evening found them strolling together round the edge of Mistawis Lake. Valancy had a basket of berries on her arm, and it swung merrily as they stepped over stray pebbles and weeds and grasses. The sky was stained with a rosy light tinged with saffron and amber, and in the quiet of the twilight the waves shone with an aquamarine radiance. Barney’s arm was around her shoulders, and hers round his waist, and as the thrushes chirped in the bushes and the frogs gurgled and a sweet wind cooled her cheeks, Valancy felt there never had been a pleasanter evening in all her life. 

“Do you know, Moonlight,” Barney murmured, guiding her deftly over a rock, “you can catch tadpoles just round this time of year, if the water’s quite warm?”

Valancy looked back at him in surprise. 

“Can you?” 

“Should be easy enough,” Barney said. “We can’t take any back with us — we haven’t any jars or nets or anything — but it would be fun to simply try.” 

“John Foster says,” began Valancy. But Barney had swung round already with an exasperated sigh and was walking quickly towards the rim of the lake. Blue-green woven with ephemeral light, the waves lapping tenderly at their grassy edges. The sound was calmer and more soothing and gentle than any Valancy had ever known — bar the ones of Barney’s kisses and his soft breathing while he lay in her arms. 

“Barney, wait!” Valancy hurried after him, and watched him take off his socks and shoes and dip his long fingers in the water, moving his hand through it, the ripples resounding. 

Barney turned and beckoned to her. She gingerly slipped over and set down the basket of berries, and he helped her over to his side, crouching over the edge of the lake. 

“There,” he said, pointing. “Do you see?” 

And Valancy did see. Tiny black wriggling creatures, writhing beneath the waves, whole clusters of them moving together, twisting and turning in the limpid water. Barney thrust his hand in and scooped up a triad of excited little fellows, jumping about in his palm. He laughed and let them go. 

“Now you try, Moonlight,” he said. 

Valancy put out her hand. The water felt deliciously warm against her pale skin. She felt the tadpoles against her flesh — wet and slimy and unlike anything she’d ever touched before but somehow so new, and not at all unpleasant. 

With a surprised “Oh!” she lost her hold of them, and the little things escaped. Barney chuckled quietly. 

“Try again. Cup your hand, like this,” he said, showing her. 

She did. And lost them again, with a great deal of giggling from them both. Barney kissed her cheek softly, his eyes glistening with something like affection. 

“I’m going to get them this time,” Valancy said resolutely, amidst her continued laughter, “I really am.” 

And so unwavering was her conviction that she leaned in to scoop up the tadpoles in her palm as Barney had done so quickly and easily — only too far in, for all at once she lost her balance, and would have fallen clean in if Barney hadn’t caught hold of her arm with a — “Valancy — honey!” 

He pulled her back quickly.  She only had a tiny graze on her palm from trying to steady herself, and it had brushed a jagged rock rather roughly.  

“Are you alright?” he asked, quite visibly worried. 

Valency nodded. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have —” She could see him reproaching himself. Barney took her palm that had been injured, and very gently lifted it to his lips. His hand touched her face; stroking, caressing. 

And then his lips were upon hers, soft and hot and wonderful. They kissed in the falling dusk while the first stars blossomed and the silver birches rustled and crimson slowly faded to purple and the air grew imperceptibly more chill. 

And the tadpoles wriggled away, forgotten. 

[illumwriting]

Undesirable // Untouchable Posted on AO3 with bonus notes ^.^ https://archiveofourown.org/works/57971263

Tumblr is horrid and has a word cap now and won't let me post the fic here.

Warnings/Tags: Rape/Non-Con, Mutilation, Mind Break, fem!Parvis, Anal Sex, depictions of self-harm via blood magic, Magic Used For Sex, Blood Magic, Waterboarding but using blood Word Count: 5,924

Excerpt:

Those thoughts usually came when she was in the altar room after filling up her orb, light-headed from the lack of blood, and swearing she could feel the residuals of Ridge's presence there. She would slump against the altar, breathe in deep the iron tang and catch a whiff of Ridge, a molten lava lake, the heat on a summer day. Push herself up onto the edge of it, teetering on the rim of the bowl that was full of her life. She'd clutch her knife with whitened knuckles, pretending Ridge's firm grip was there as she rested it against her throat, slid her free and tacky with crimson hand down her jeans and into her cunt. She rocked up against her hand, heel pressed firm to her clit as she gasped, the soft bite of the blade keeping her just lucid enough to stay sitting and not tip backwards into the altar. There was no way it would do anything but soak her in blood if she did fall, but it always felt like there was a yawning chasm behind her like this, ready to swallow her up.

Like Ridge might.

[textbookz-n-sketchbookz]

Textbooks and Sketchbooks - CHAPTER ONE

Awsome Sauce Chapter Recap: Marly goes to her secret spot, falls, and excitedly yells at a random person she sees (extra cool).

Word Count: 3048

Warnings: None!

The grace of a school holiday settled upon Piltover’s Academy, students and staff free for a day to do as they please. While the young scholars socialized and caught up with friends, lounged in their homes, or met up with family, a young artist roamed the streets. Colorful as can be, Marly could be seen walking around. She still had her purse, notebooks, and stoplight red water bottle on her, as usual. Tilting her head as she looked around, the city of Piltover was busy as ever. All around there were merchants selling trinkets and items, elites gossiping as they trotted along, and the citizens of the city living at their finest. 

Glancing at all the people, she quickly jogged away from the mainland, away from all the noise and busy crowded areas. As much as the business was fine with her, and as much as she was often as loud as the city itself, it wasn’t what she was looking for today. Marly hummed softly as she moved around the terrain, diverting from the pristine cut grass and evenly painted buildings towards the more untouched, unkempt sides of Piltover. 

Noise and chatter slowly subsided, now Marly’s ears filled with the sound of rushing water. This place was where the citizens of Piltover rarely went. Not because this area of the city was dangerous, simply because it didn’t reflect the perfecality of Piltover. At this point Marly wasn’t even sure if it was considered a part of the city anymore. Geographically, yes it was part of Piltover. But by now, when people say ‘Piltover’, they think of the City of Progress, where art and science come together hand in hand. A place fit for only the most elite, and the brightest of minds. Such an immaculate city wouldn’t see an area so ragged as something fit and worthy to claim. After all, it was an old, practically abandoned land. Something one finds in a science textbook about how erosion affects the earth, not in a city that’s the pinnacle for progress.

Marly walked along the land, looking over the edge of a rusty staircase. She glanced around, seeing if she had any witnesses. It wouldn’t matter, despite all of Piltover’s laws, there wasn’t one for going into this area. As usual in the areas further away from the big city, there was no one around, everyone being too enthralled with the day to day flawlessness of the main area. She slowly ventured down, one hand holding all her stuff, the other lightly trailing along the handrail. She kept her gaze on her feet, to prevent herself from missing a step, or tripping. Soon she made it down, now standing along what seemed to be a ledge in the middle of an open space. It was too high for her to jump down, and any attempts to climb down were too steep. Water pooled in a small lake at the bottom, though was quite shallow, having dried up over the years. A little stream flowed behind some rocks in the scenery. Once lush plants now wilted, some having turned to thin vines, others having bunches of yellow leaves curled up from lack of care and water. 

The artist often went here for quiet time, a simple escape from the loud city and the stresses that came with it. Sometimes she would draw, other times she would walk around and simply wonder about the part of Piltover that was so different from the main city. She’s drawn this place a couple times, deeming it the only scenery she would be willing to draw on her own time. In her sketchbook, one could find Marly’s studies of the glass windows in the side of the ledge. The glass hadn’t been cleaned in a while, dimmed and damp with time, water leaking from them. She believed the pattern and arrangement of the material to look similar to a geometric skull, perhaps a menacing face or even a mask someone would wear, encased in the circular rim. 

Anything from lazy marker sketches that took Marly twenty minutes, to intricate charcoal pieces, she drew this little area. She’d even find ways to implement it into her personal art and even school projects. The wilted plants appeared in the background as a supporting element to a piece about nature’s toll on human structures. The shallow lake has some sort of creature drinking out of it, for a creative fantasy painting. That window design that looks so much like a mask is turned into an actual mask, for a fake product design project. This simple area that Marly discovered on a whim has become something so substantial in her art journey.

Standing on the start of the suspended ledge, Marly tilted her head. She slowly stepped away from the base of the staircase, walking towards the middle of the area. She could spot what seemed to be a red shed, its door missing and roof chipped and weathered away. This hasn’t caught her attention before. It’s paint was wearing off, whoever used this in the past was definitely long gone, abandoning the small shed. These were similar traits to the couple of smaller huts and sheds behind this one, lost of their use. As she looked around, she compared the buildings on the ledge to those in the distance, of which were a part of the main Piltovan land. The ones with her were obviously older, in fact this whole area seemed older. Compared to the rest of Piltover, this area still retained its natural composition. It was created by a large fissure, rather than carved out by hand like the rest of the city. 

Continuing to make observations, Marly spotted a large wall, fit with three holes. She tilted her head, squinting her eyes slightly. The holes seemed to be drainage openings, the faint speckle of moving machinery behind them. In past years, the wall wasn’t there, and she would be able to see the city behind it, had she known about this spot then. 

Marly came to the conclusion that this abandoned land had been left behind during Piltover’s main industrialization era. It was now its own little bubble, a humble reminder of how the grand city started. She hoped that this lovely area wouldn’t fall to the Piltover ways, and end up caught in a construction project, hammered away to make room for the next big thing the city has to offer. Thankfully, judging by now everyone had seen to have forgotten this place, there was a bigger chance that it would be left safe.

Turning her attention back to the red shed, Marly stared at it, her gaze sharp. She then stuck her hand into her purse, pulling out a pencil case. Opening it, she dug around, carefully not to knock any supplies out. Marly grabbed an old red marker, something she kept on her for the sake of luck and its familiarity. She made her way to the shed, arms flapping slightly as she jogged. Once she reached it, she uncapped the marker, setting it to a barren section, where the paint was gone, and now unmarked wood was left. Marly’s eyes widened slightly when she saw how the color match was almost perfect, her marker being a slight bit too dark and saturated. Though it added a slight charm to the shed, an imperfect human touch, something that Piltover’s buildings often lacked. She continued to work away, coloring like a child over their parent’s walls. She had no reason to do this, Marly just thought it’d be nice to do something, and leave a bit of herself in this place.

Shifting her foot slightly, Marly’s heel caught on a bit of scrap metal sticking out the ground. She stumbled, arms flailing about as she yelped. Clutching her marker tightly in one hand, Marly slowly regained her balance, sticking her arms up as she looked around, slightly fazed and faltered. She glanced around wildly, searching for the cause of her almost tripping. She quickly spotted the metal, and tilted her head. To be sure it was just that, Marly looked up and around some more, making sure this wasn’t the cause of a person. There was no one around, so why would there be? She’s pretty sure she was the only person that bothered visiting this place. Though, as her gaze flitted over the large wall, she paused. 

In the middle drainage hole, there was a figure. Marly couldn’t make out any big details about who it could be. But there was a person! In the same little space she thought no one else visited, there was a person. They seemed to be sitting on the ledge of the hole, the posing of their body suggested that they were looking at her. Marly perked up, and upon closer examination, they seemed to be wearing the Academy uniform. She furrowed her brow and tilted at this, as it was a holiday. Yes, she considered the uniform pretty, but why wear it on a day with no school? Raising her hands to cup the air around her mouth, she decided to speak. 

“Hey!!” Marly called out, closing her eyes as she spoke. When she thought to ‘speak’, she actually meant ‘yell’. Her voice rang out through the area, and Marly was glad that no one would be close enough to hear her. God forbid Marly ever forget how loud she could be. Thankfully for today, it would only be her and this mystery student. 

The continuous whirring of cogs and machinery is interrupted by the rhythmic clank clank clank of Viktor’s cane. He slowly made his way to the edge of the large drainage hole, ducking underneath the swinging mechanisms. Grateful for the holiday, he sat down on the edge of the hole, staring out into the old land. His blank stare stops when a small blur of color comes into view below. Looking down, Viktor tilted his head, amused as he watched the figure.

The girl had come back again, colorful as ever. Viktor watched her saunter throughout the ledge, as he stayed hidden away in the drainage hole. He often came to this area to think, to get away from the stress of the city. Viktor technically wasn’t supposed to even be at the Academy, he snuck in and hasn’t been discovered since. It wasn’t a particularly burdensome thing to do, pretend to be a student, though it didn’t really allow him to pursue what he wanted to be, a scientist and inventor. Specifically to change the world and make it a better place for everyone. But with his current position, he had a feeling he would just have to wait until someone noticed him. 

Turning his attention back to the colorful figure, Viktor knew he had seen the girl before. The first time he spotted her, he had mistaken her for a child that had run away and gotten lost. She was dressed in strikingly bright clothes that looked out of place in comparison to Piltover fashion. Her figure was small, so from far away he assumed she was a kid. Though, seeing her appear on the ledge below in the Academy uniform made him reform his thoughts. She was simply short, conundrum solved. 

It was always the same girl that appeared. Often clumsy in the way she moved sometimes, while other times moving sharply, as if she was a choppy animation. But in general, she moved like a cartoon character, with big gestures, her shoulder length black hair swaying whenever she moved. When she didn’t wear the Academy uniform she wore uniquely bright clothing. When she did wear the uniform, she kept her colorful shoes, and the abundance of accessories on her arms. Viktor couldn’t make out much more of her, since he was so far away whenever he saw her. He noted that she often had things with her. She would sometimes sit down and look around, before glancing down to what seemed to be paper. Perhaps she was some sort of artist? He had never seen her in the Academy before, staying as his unsolved equation for all the one sided encounters he had with her. Viktor had gotten small glimpses of her face when he glanced in his general direction, but never directly at him. They never interacted, she stayed on the far ledge, and Viktor stayed up in the drainage hole, surely he was just specks of color from her perspective. He never watched her for long, usually a few minutes at most. It would be impolite to invade her privacy, but seeing as she also knew this secretive place, Viktor couldn’t help but be curious.

Today, the girl seemed to contemplate things, before approaching the old red shed. She jogged, her bright clothing making her look like a bright beetle, scurrying about. Viktor tilted his head, and moved to sit on the ledge of the hole. She rarely interacted with the land, usually sitting down and observing. He left his cane behind him, leaning it against the wall. The whirring of machinery behind him was the continuous soundtrack whenever he went here. He let his legs dangle off the ledge, watching as she did something to the shed. She was too far away for him to fully know what she was doing, but all he could pick up was that she was heavily focused on it. 

She moved slightly, before stumbling. Viktor assumed that she almost tripped. He leaned forward as he watched her flail around, the falter earning a yelp from her. The yelp earned a raised eyebrow from Viktor, as he’s never heard anything from her up until now. The girl looked around frantically, staring at the floor. She continued to look around, before her gaze fell on him. Viktor paused, looking back. She had never acknowledged him before, or even been aware that he was even there in the distance. He tilted his head, the girl mirroring his action moments later. 

All of Viktor’s thoughts were interrupted as a loud ‘Hey!!’ sounded, and his eyes widened in surprise. For someone so small, she seemed to pack an explosive voice. He flinched slightly, his hand reaching to the wall to steady himself, before attempting to peer closer.

“Don’t fall!” Came the voice of the girl again, noticing his movement. Viktor chuckled softly, he didn’t plan on it. She waved her arms, the soft rattling of her bright bracelets filling the air.

Today had many firsts for them. First time having the girl see him, first time interacting with her, and first time hearing her speak. Viktor hoped that she would come back to this place, while knowing he would be there. She made quite the first impression when interacting with him. Whoever this was, she seemed very open to being friendly.

After watching the mystery student move from her call, Marly yelled out not to fall. She didn’t want to be the reason such a serene place suddenly becomes a crime scene. She had so many questions about this person. Who are they? Why are they up in the drainage hole? How did they even get up there? How do they also know about this place? But for now, she would focus on interacting with them now.

“Hello!” Marly called out. The figure lifted their arm, waving at her. When there was no verbal response, she assumed they were too quiet for her to hear. She waved back, smiling excietly at the figure. She needed some way to remember this. So she quickly grabbed her sketchbook and a mechanical pencil. “Stay still!” She exclaimed. Thankfully listening, the figure stayed still. 

Marly quickly sketched the figure. It was loose, messy, perhaps even ugly. But it provided all she needed to commit them to memory. Closing her sketchbook and looking back up at the figure, she could see the start of a shadow creeping over the wall. It was getting darker outside. Not wanting to get caught up in walking home at night, she promptly cleaned up her stuff, waving her arms. A short encounter, yes, but perhaps the person would come back to this place. If Marly believed that this was a nice, secret place, maybe this mysterious student did, too. If they believed this was a nice place, they would most likely come back, and maybe then they could talk. 

“Bye! See ya soon!” She smiled, waving her arms once more, colorful kandi bright as a friendly siren. She was sometimes blunt with these things, always straight to the point. The figure stood up after she spoke, pausing before they retreated into the background. Marly turned away, grabbing her things. Sure, she never really got a response from the mystery figure, but there was some sort of understanding connection whenever she spoke. A non-verbal response was just as good a response as any, and she was grateful the figure even did respond. Most students from the Academy would have either ignored her, or thought of her as weird. 

Marly mentally jotted down that she would have to visit the spot again. She hoped the figure would still be there, maybe she could find out more about them. Marly made her way back to the main city, eager to make it home. Then she would be able to jot out all her thoughts, and decipher who this new person could be. In all honesty, they weren’t that much of a mystery. It was only the who are you’s and what you are doing here’s that categorized this person anywhere in the unknown. She shouldn’t even care that much, whoever that person was had all the rights to be in the area as she did. 

When school started again tomorrow, Marly would try and find time to figure who the person was. Perhaps she would ask around, see if anyone knew. For now, she would stick to the scribbled drawing she had. Messy marks on a page, her only proof that someone else shared this serene space with her. Holding all her stuff, she glanced back at the drainage hole, an unknown feeling lingering in her chest. This was certainly one of Marly’s stranger encounters with someone from her school, to say the least.

(the secret spot in question ⬆️)

[craftingcreatures]

Welcome to Spero

Exoplanet Ahuizotl 593-d is about 15 light-years from Earth, located in the habitable zone of a yellow dwarf star much like our own. It is a rocky world, with an axial tilt of 7.2 degrees and a diameter of just over 12,000 km. It has a single large moon, somewhat smaller than earth's and very different in origin and composition; this moon is a recently-captured long-period comet, composed mostly of water ice beneath a dark protective layer of organic dust. Ahuizotl 593-d was renamed to Spero (meaning "hope") when it was chosen as a candidate for terraforming and colonization.

Prior to human arrival, Spero was a dead world. Though once tectonically active, it ceased to be so long before humanity arrived, and countless aeons of erosion have ground down the mountain ranges and filled in the ocean basins with sediment. Where once tall mountains stood proudly, small, wind-blasted rocks are all that remain; and where once vast oceans surged, endless fields of sand dunes stand still and lifeless. The only true topography that may be found is the rims of innumerable impact craters, slowly being worn away by the ravages of wind and sand. The largest of these is over 1,000 km across, and is relatively young, at a mere 80 million years old; It has not had time to erode away as completely as some of the other craters, and its eastern rim contains mountains that are much higher than anywhere else on the planet - nearly 3,000 meters high.

The oceans are not completely gone - they are buried, to be certain, but the water still exists deep beneath the sediment. In certain places, scattered across the globe, ancient seawater seeps to the surface, forming saltwater oases - in the depths of the largest crater, these springs seep into the basin to form a permanent lake. However, by far the largest body of water is the Mare Vagus, the so-called "wandering sea": a shallow, hypersaline body of water which travels around Spero's lowlands, propelled by the forces of erosion and deposition. On the windward coast, soft rock and sediment are slowly carved away, only to be re-deposited as sand or silt on the leeward coast; harder rock resists erosion, and may deflect the Mare's trajectory against the wind to the north or south. in this way the seas move across the planet, leaving behind them a trail of salt crystal evaporites that can be seen from space. These bodies of water fuel a small but consistent water cycle - a few freshwater rivers snaking down from the highlands are fed by rainfall.

Despite the bleakness of the landscape, the planet is habitable. The air is breathable, the rivers drinkable, the soil nontoxic, and the sun is almost identical to our own. In a universe where habitable planets are exceedingly rare, Spero is a veritable oasis, and within ten years of the planet's discovery humanity was already putting together a plan for colonization. However, the sheer distance from earth to Spero makes for an imposing barrier; the fastest starships in the human fleet (at 1/6th the speed of light) would have to travel for 95 years to reach it. It would be two hundred and fifty years between the arrival of the first probes and the arrival of humanity on the planet's surface. And humanity did not arrive alone. They brought with them their crops, their livestock - everything needed to prepare a planet for permanent human habitation.

Transporting plants and animals across interstellar space is not an easy feat. Due to the 95-year time gap between launch and arrival, everything living must be either put in cryogenic stasis or maintain a breeding stock on the spaceship for the duration of the flight. Since storage space is a limited resource on ships and carrying that many moving animals, plants, and people (not to mention food and water and life support systems) would be unimaginably expensive, cryostasis was by far the preferred option. For most plants and some animals, this made transport downright easy; simply keep the desiccated seeds or cysts into a low-temperature freezer and thaw them out upon arrival. Thousands of seeds could be transported this way while barely taking up any space at all. Hundreds of species from over 450 different families were brought to Ahuizotl.

Animals, on the other hand, needed a little more consideration. Cryogenic stasis is a complicated affair (though much simpler than transporting moving, breathing animals for 95 years) and requires some specialized equipment. Multiple tanks of liquid nitrogen were needed for every individual animal, plus the metabolic suppressors and the actual stasis chamber itself. For an average-sized human this resulted in a set of equipment which weighed some six hundred pounds and took up almost 2.5 cubic meters of cabin space. For a fully grown cow or camel, the requirements were even more ludicrous.

Fortunately, these huge apparatuses could be shrunken, if the animals themselves were also shrunken. If transported as embryos, with development completed in artificial wombs upon arrival to the planet, each individual animal only took up one-eighth of a cubic meter of space. This was much more reasonable, and so many more individuals could be transported, enough to preserve genetic diversity for multiple species. Even so, space was at a premium, and only 18 species of animal were introduced (three of which could undergo cryptobiosis and were simply chucked in the freezer with the seeds).

Colonization occurred in several waves; the first wave included bacteria, algae, and certain lichens and fungi, and began the process of terraforming by beginning soil production and establishing the foundation of the artificial ecosystem the colonists hoped to create. The second wave included more complex plants, including mosses and ferns, and the first animals - tardigrades, rotifers, and other small creatures which would recycle nutrients. Once these organisms were established and thriving (as determined by robotic probes), the third wave - including the first hardy crop plants, larger invertebrates, and the first fish - arrived. Finally, in the fourth wave, humanity arrived (accompanied by the remaining seed species) to be greeted by a thriving, if taxonomically limited, ecosystem.

~o~O~o~

Seed List

All species introduced to Ahuizotl underwent genetic manipulation and hybridization to increase hardiness and heterozygosity, maximizing chances of successful establishment and survival into the future. Species were chosen based on hardiness, adaptability, and – most importantly – usefulness to humans. The vast majority of plant species introduced were crops, producing food, timber, or other important products such as rubber and medicines. Animals were either livestock, herding animals, or detritivores necessary for healthy soils and nutrient cycling. Pest species were strictly avoided. Thanks to the extended time spent in cryogenic stasis (as well as close inspection and quarantining by scientists prior to freezing), diseases and parasites were almost completely eliminated.

(Plants not included in this list; there are too many to count. If it's reasonably hardy and useful to humans, it's safe to assume it was brought along.)

Domestic Goat ~ Capra hircus Cattle were rejected for colonization due to their size and feed requirements - the productive pastures needed to raise them effectively simple didn't exist. Goats were introduced instead, as they could survive better on the sparse scrubby vegetation which had been established by that point. Goats were introduced for their milk, meat, and leather, and for their ability to survive in harsh environments.

Domestic Sheep ~ Ovis aries Sheep were introduced for meat, milk, and (most importantly) wool. The sheep arriving on Ahuizotl were hybrids between several different wool-producing breeds, mostly of the fine-wooled merino type. Though unable to survive without human care due to the need for periodic shearing, the breeds chosen were very hardy and could survive in harsh climates.

Dromedary Camel ~ Camelus dromedarius Camels were introduced as pack animals and long-distance transport to desert outposts. They were also used for milk production. Camels were chosen based on their hardiness, pre-adapted to the desert climate of Spero as they were; able to survive on very little food or water and carry heavy loads for long distances, they would be invaluable, especially since Spero had no oil or petroleum deposits to produce fuel for motorized vehicles.

Domestic Donkey ~ Equus africanus asinus Horses were considered for colonization as a means of transportation on a world where fuel was a highly limited resource, but were ultimately rejected in favour of donkeys. Donkeys were smaller than horses, but much hardier and required fewer resources. Donkeys were also used extensively for plowing and transportation in pulling carts - they were also significantly easier to handle and more comfortable to ride than camels.

Domestic Dog ~ Canis familiaris Dogs were introduced as herding animals for goats and sheep, much more efficient than robotic substitutes. They had the added bonus of providing companionship to the human settlers (on a planet with a total population of less than 500 spread out over a vast area, loneliness was an ever-present problem). The dogs brought to Spero were all mutts with strong herding dog histories; border collies, blue heelers, and Alsatians were all prominently featured in the pedigrees.

Domestic Pig ~ Sus domesticus Pigs were introduced mostly for their meat, but also for leather, manure, and disposal of organic wastes. They were also introduced for their unique ability to provide organs and tissues useful in medical applications, such as their heart valves. Hardy animals, able to survive on garbage, pigs were well adapted for surviving the turbulent early years of colonization.

Domestic Chicken ~ Gallus domesticus Chickens were introduced for their meat and eggs, and their feathers were also used as a natural fiber for stuffing cushions and other necessary textiles. The chickens introduced were hybrid mixtures most similar to Indian and Polynesian breeds, but also included genes from western breeds such as leghorns, orpingtons, and wyandottes.

Common Carp ~ Cyprinus carpio Fish was a critical nutrient source for the developing world, rich in Omega-3 fatty acids that could not be efficiently produced by plants. Although humanity makes use of many kinds of fish, most species require more advanced ecological environments to thrive. Carp, on the other hand, don’t; and while not typically considered food fish by western cultures their meat is tasty and nutritious. It is their ability to thrive in low-quality environments which made them better choices for colonization than more popular fish.

Flathead Mullet ~ Mugil cephalus Mullets were introduced for many of the same reasons as carp. Adaptable, hardy, and able to survive in a wide range of temperatures and salinities, their diet of algae and bacterial scum allowed them to thrive in Ahuizotl’s estuaries. Unlike carp they congregate in large schools and so can be harvested in large quantities, an invaluable attribute once large numbers of colonists began arriving and expecting to be fed. The mullet introduced to Spero were genetically modified to have a flexible life cycle and a broader tolerance of salinity; they do not need to return to saltwater to breed, though they can still survive there just fine.

European Honeybee ~ Apis mellifera mellifera On earth, bees are of critical importance, pollinating a huge proportion of the crops we rely on to produce our food. Thus, bees were practically guaranteed to be included in the seed list. Not only do they pollinate flowers, but the honey, wax, and other products produced by beehives are valuable commodities. The bees introduced are exclusively from the Western subspecies (A. m. mellifera); this is to prevent aggressive and swarming behaviours exhibited by hybrid bees on earth.

Common Woodlouse ~ Armidillidium vulgare Woodlice were introduced as detritivores, aiding decomposition of excess organic matter and helping to keep soils fertile. This particular species was chosen based on its adaptability and hardiness compared to other woodlouse species, as they can tolerate drier conditions.

Common Earthworm ~ Lumbricus terrestris Earthworms were introduced to aerate the soil and help keep croplands healthy. They also help to remove organic detritus such as fallen leaves and help mix soils, bringing nutrients within reach of plant roots. This species was chosen due to its ability to survive in diverse habitats.

White Rat Springtail ~ Folsomia candida Springtails were chosen as detritivores, recycling organic matter and keeping the soils fertile and healthy. They also serve as extra food for woodlice and earthworms. This particular species was chosen due to the ease of culture and adaptability.

Cherry Shrimp ~ Neocaridina davidi Freshwater shrimp were introduced to help control the growth of bacterial and algal mats in riverine environments, keeping waterways clear. They also serve as a secondary food source for carp. This species was chosen due to its ease of culture.

Ramshorn Snail ~ Planorbarius corneus Like the cherry shrimp, freshwater snails were chosen to help keep down algal growth and keep waterways and rice paddies healthy and productive. They, like the shrimp, also serve as a secondary food source for carp.

Brine Shrimp ~ Artemia franciscana Brine shrimp hold little value to humans, except as a food source for mullet, carp, and other marine species. They were mainly included because, as eggs, they can survive being frozen for long periods of time and so did not require the heavy cryogenic stasis equipment needed for most other animals. During early colonization they were used as a feed for the recently-thawed fish fry, and continued to be eaten by subsequent generations of larval fish.

Rotifer ~ Brachionus plicatilis Like the brine shrimp, the rotifers were included as larval fish food and because they could be transported easily and in large numbers with nothing more than a simple freezer. They were one of the first animals introduced to Ahuizotl, along with tardigrades, and were intended to form the base of a self-sufficient aquatic ecology.

Tardigrade ~ Milnesium tardigradum Tardigrades were chosen as pioneer animals to help create usable soils. They also provide food for larger invertebrates such as snails, isopods, and springtails. Thanks to their ability to withstand low temperatures for long periods of time in a cryptobiotic state, they could be brought in large numbers in a simple freezer.

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These eighteen species of animals - and hundreds of species of plants - were cultivated to form a self-sufficient ecosystem in the dusty, dry wastes of Spero. Croplands, orchards, and timber plantations were planted along the banks of the rivers; farther from water, scrubby grasses and hardy forage plants grew in the infrequent rainfall. While the vast majority of the planet was still hostile desert, endless sand dunes or bare rock swept clean by the wind, humanity managed to eke out an existence along the narrow inhabitable margins of the rivers.

Until a cataclysmic event destroyed humanity's hope of creating a new home... and simultaneously laid the groundwork for Spero to become a thriving paradise far beyond their wildest dreams.