#a small bear but a bear nonetheless

[ghetsis]

I hate when I get woken up from a dream

[princessbrunette]

Reader visiting pogue!rafe and wearing the tiniest sundress to thank him for taking such a good care of her and for coming to midsummer. She would give him the sloppiest nastiest blowjob because she is so grateful

˙✧˖° 🐬🛼🎀 ⋆｡♡

it was one of those really hot days. the type where your clothes stick to you, even the hot breeze serves as no relief and you just wish to be left alone.

it was rafe’s day off from the building site, which he’s grateful for — as he’s not sure he’d be able to manage under such harsh conditions. the pogue lounges on his beat up couch infront of his shitty tv with a beer, legs spread — the rickety oscillating fan by his side offering no solace from the thick muggy air. just as he starts to find the energy to be irritated with this, there’s a knock at his door. the last thing he needs.

“jesus—what, i can’t have one god-damn day…” he mutters away to himself like a grumpy old man as he storms to the door, swinging it open. lo and behold, there you are in the tiniest, flimsiest sundress holding a crate of beer, looking a little clammy but excited to see him nonetheless.

“hi rafe!” you chime, totally unaffected.

“the hell are you doin’ all the way out here, s’not a nice part of the island, alright—”

“i come bearing gifts. may i come inside?” you ask so sweet and politely, leaving rafe only able to blink at you for a moment before you’re shuffling past him anyway without an answer, humming to yourself. “i know these ones are your favourite. they’re probably a little luke warm by now ‘cos i had to carry them here but if i stick them in the fridge they’ll probably be good to go in another ten minutes or so.” you chat away happily, walking right through to the small fridge on the ground in his kitchen, absentmindedly bending all the way over to shove the crate inside, giving rafe a real show of the delicate panties beneath your dress.

“really you — you walked all the way here for some beers, alright— okay.” he shakes his head in exasperation, turning and flopping back down onto the couch, closing his eyes for a moment at the unbearable heat. suddenly, you were right there.

“not just that.” your voice is softer now, closer. he can feel your breath on his face and it’s cold somehow— like you’d been sucking on an ice pop before coming in. the feeling isn’t unwelcome. his eyes flutter open, and it’s like someone had turned a switch inside of you because suddenly you’re all hungry eyes, wet mouth, hands that fidget for him.

“…no?” he drawls lazily, barely making an effort to shove an eyebrow up in questioning.

“wanted to thank you specially. for looking after me so well after midsummers. you’re a really good guy, rafe.” you’re so sweet it’s sickly and rafe shakes his head, averting his gaze with a lick of the lips and an eye roll.

“look i was just doing what anyone would have done alright — no need to make it a whole thing—”

“please… can i just show you how grateful i am? i’ve been practicing.” you practically groan, hands clenching into the fabric of his shirt.

rafe is starting to realise he has a real problem with saying no and standing by that— because soon he’s got you between his legs, drool leaking down onto his couch from the sloppy way you mouth at his cock, making out with the tip and taking breaks to ease him into your throat until there are tears on your cheeks. you seem as happy as anyone could be, little pleased moans and mewls leaving you periodically.

“the hell did you mean you’ve been practicing?” rafe asks between winces, a sharp pain in his abdomen at the thought of you getting in your blowjob rehearsals with another guy. he didn’t like that, and more importantly he didn’t like that he felt that way.

you reply to him, but it’s all garbled and spitty because his dick’s jammed half way down your throat so he pulls you off by the jaw, furrowing his brows curiously urging you to repeat yourself. you swallow, blinking wide wet eyes up at him.

“dildo.” you hum, before pushing his hand off and getting back to work. rafe relaxes back into the couch with an amused scoff.

“shit. your parents have got no clue, huh? no clue that they’ve got such a dirty little girl.” he spreads his legs a little wider, resting a hand on the back of your head.

you pull your mouth off to pull his cock to stand upright to access his balls, sucking and massaging them. “m’your dirty little girl too.” you respond in a shyer tone, almost like you were asking for permission. rafe blinks at you in zoned out analysis, wondering just what your father wasn’t providing you in order to make everything that came out of your mouth so wrong and freudian. rafe was just some construction working pogue — that’s how he saw it anyway. what it was about him that made you latch onto him so tightly and rely on him of all people for emotional validation and nurture was beyond him. you must’ve been a total masochist.

as you continue sucking he realises he didn’t so much mind the comment. everyone was ��little’ to him at such a height so he’d let you have it.

“uh-huh. that right?” he entertains it, repositioning your mouth over his tip forcefully and feeding it back down your throat. “gonna let me in that throat now? huh? lemme cum baby? thought you were grateful. show me how thankful you are that i was nice to you, c’mon.” he pants, feet planted to the floor now as he lifts his hips — impatient. each little wet gag fuels him, and he chuckles breathlessly at the way you squeeze your eyes and fists closed to endure his manhandling.

“yeah not — not being very nice now am i? nah… s’what you get for messing with us nasty pogues. savages, baby.” he’s actively teasing you, making fun of the kook rhetoric as he pushes himself toward release. he knows those aren’t your views, but it’s satisfying to poke fun at you all the same.

˙✧˖° 🐬🛼🎀 ⋆｡♡

[tender-rosiey]

hiii 😭 I REALLY LOVE UR GOJO X YN SO MUCHHH 😔😔 I was also wondering like maybe what if y/n has a wound, like any where 🥲 it could be either on her back, arms, legs but she doesn't wanna tell gojo abt it and she hides it, then he will find out about it either she winces when gojo hugs her, starts wearing long sleeved clothes or her shirt lifts up while sleeping 🤧 TYSMM❤❤

strain — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: I am honored that you like my works, love! hope you enjoy this as well 🫶💕🫶 also happy birthday to the man, the myth, the legend: gojo satoru!! (it’s still his birthday in my country so hush I am not late)

you are more than a capable sorcerer. in fact, you are one of the strongest in the field.

however, like anyone else, there are some moments where things get a little out of hand, and you come back bearing a rather long slash on your left arm.

but since it’s pretty late, you decided you will bother shoko about it in the morning. that is how you’re finally in your home, with satoru nowhere to be found.

you frown lightly at the fact that he is still out there fighting curses, but a part of you feels relieved that you don’t have to explain your situation right now.

the night should pass by smoothly, and you will go to shoko tomorrow: a fool-proof plan!

so you do what you can to sanitize the wound, and cover it until you can get it treated properly. you also take the chance to indulge in your favorite snack as a good job treat.

after finishing your food and tidying up for the day, you’re finally in bed, all-cozied up and avoiding anything touching your wound as much as possible.

a deep breathe in, a deep breathe out, and you slowly drift to sleep.

not much time passes before satoru’s familiar footsteps echo throughout the house.

your husband has an abundance of energy.

but it seemed like today’s missions have drained him a bit more than normal, so he skips eating anything and heads straight to your shared bedroom.

his heart softens, and his muscles relax upon the sight of you tucked in bed. he walks to press a small kiss on your forehead, quickly changing into his pajamas and settling right by your side.

he stretches a bit and turns to spoon you as per usual, eyes closing in contentment.

but you wince, even if adeptly, and it sends alarms ringing through his head.

he jerks up, and his hand is instantly placed on your arm again, softly. there is an ever so faint change in your expression as your eyebrows furrow, and he has never pulled his hand away so fast.

he keeps debating in his head whether to wake you up or not, but he swiftly settles for the former.

he needs to know what happened. so he, regrettably, nudges your sleepy form, “y/n?”

you groan, but, nonetheless, you reply, “…what?”

while satoru often likes to base theatrics around his every move and phrase, but he also knows when to get straight to the point, “did you get hurt on today’s mission?”

you’re no longer half-asleep, and you quickly sit up, eyeing your husband. knowing there is no escape nor denial, you fidget with your fingers and nod slowly.

then you hurriedly utter, “but I was going to see shoko first thing in the morning; I promise!”

he nods slowly, holding your hands in his own. you’re left to look him in the eyes. satoru’s eyes being exposed makes him feel so vulnerable, or at least that’s how he is with you.

you can see every wrinkle, and every crease; you can see what he is thinking about in real time. he has long given up hiding anything from you, and, besides, it feels fresh to just let go.

but right now, as you look into his eyes, you see them swarming with confliction, pain, and worry.

he doesn’t scold you about not going right now because he knows that you will tell him that you either thought it wasn’t a big deal or that you didn’t want to bother shoko with it.

instead, he settles on a hushed whisper of “can I see it?”

you throw him a confused look, “why? I am getting it treated tomorrow anyway,” then you smile, “it’s not going to permanent if that’s what you’re worried about.”

he shakes his head, “it’s not that; I just—“ he takes a deep breath then looks at you pleadingly, “just let me see it.”

perhaps it’s to silence his thoughts and to show him that you’re truly okay, as okay as you can be.

you’re still alive, and that’s what matters, he thinks. nevertheless, he feels the need to see just how serious is the wound anyway.

reluctantly, you slowly take off your jacket to reveal the poorly bandaged gash on your arm.

he looks up at you, asking for permission because even if he needs to see it for his own selfish reasons, he has to put you above anything and everything else.

you nod, giving the free reign to slowly take off the bandages. you can barely hold back any pained noises, but you can’t help the wincing of your body.

satoru’s frown deepens, and with every move, your husband’s heart aches. it goes like that until the wound is finally unveiled.

you feel satoru observing the cut so intently that you look away. satoru curses everything that he can think of, and never has we wanted the ability to heal others more than right now.

he straightens his back, “that’s a deep cut, y’know.”

“I know…”

“you also realize that the wound could’ve hit your chest and inevitably heart, right?”

you huff, “listen, if you’re going to give me a lecture or keep making me feel bad about it then I will have you know—“

“you could’ve died.”

you notice the strain in his voice, so you turn to finally look eyes with him. he looks pained, so hurt, maybe even terrified at the fact that there was a chance that he could’ve lost you.

your expression immediately becomes that of sympathy, “but I didn’t, and dwelling on the fact that I might’ve died will only bother you for no reason,” you hold his hand, “I am here and alive, aren’t I?”

your husband sighs, resting his head on your right shoulder, “you’re hurting my poor little heart whenever you put yourself in danger like that.”

a giggle escapes your lips, and your hands naturally find their way in his hair, fingers gently carding through, “whatever shall we do.”

“if things went my way then you would just stay home looking all pretty like you always do,” he states, and you roll your eyes.

“well, they’re going my way tonight, so—“ the clock strikes twelve, “happy birthday, silly boy.”

his eyes widen and he pulls away to look you in the face. he blinks dumbly then looks at what’s in your hands: a cupcake with a candle.

a wide grin of unbridled joy appears on your husband’s face. his eyes shimmer in the moonlight as he laughs, “I really didn’t expect it this time!”

“you outdid yourself, pretty girl,” he hums, hand caressing your cheek.

“I still have a lot more things for you,” you beam with pride. satoru can’t contain himself anymore, and he pulls you into a loving embrace.

“I love you so much,” he murmurs beside your ear, pressing a light kiss to the side of your neck.

you pat his back, “I love you too, ‘toru,” you laugh, “but you’re pressing on my wound, and I think I am just going to cry and not because of overwhelming love.”

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @sonder-paradise @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies@pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @kryscent @kunikida-simp @whoami-72 @mx-0-child @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02 @satoryaa @nothisispatrick300 @fallencrescentmoon @etheviese @ho34gojo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @the-weeping-author @stray-npc @libbyistired @anon1412 @anakalana @maehemthemisfit @satorustar @b4nka1 @sad-darksoul @ko-fi-heart @pumpkindudeishere @suyaaachin @babyqueen17 @chaosguy352 @murakami-kotone

copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[webism]

KINKTOBER DAY EIGHT: impact play with sub!sukuna

kinktober masterlist

IM SO BEHIND kinda focused on face slapping here because god im a perv for slapping him in the face but i think i want to write a full fic once kinktober is done with paddles and such

The first time you slapped Sukuna wasn't in the bedroom. You two had been fighting, his words were too much and you responded in turn with a sharp slap across his face.

Of course, with his disposition to bloodshed, you’d half expected your head to fall onto the ground. Instead, he had caught your wrist in his large hand and looked down at you with the most pleading eyes you’ve ever seen from him.

And he spoke, through gritted teeth, “again.”

Turns out, the King of Curses has a hidden hope for being struck by you. You'd believe it if he said he only riled you up to get hit, what with how hard he got after the first strike.

That was only the first time, though— Ryomen Sukuna has since fallen in love with being at no ones mercy but yours. With each blow you decide to deliver to his body, be it his face, chest, stomach, ass... he falls deeper and deeper into hopes for more.

What's best is when you leave a mark. A bruise across his face or a red receipt of your hand or paddle against his skin. He'd kill for the sight of his back stained red with the remnants of the way your riding crop would stick to his skin. If nothing else, leaving bruises and near-cuts behind is a reminder of that small part of him that doesn't mind being vulnerable with another. The part of his heart, if he were to ever admit to having one, that belonged to you.

Thats how you get his face flushed red in the middle of his private chambers. Hair pushed out of his eyes so you can see more of the blown-out lust that pools in them with every strike of your palm across his face. You sit on his lap, impaled by his cock(s), and only barely rocking your hips as he writhes underneath you. He may have a talent for submitting to you, but that doesn't mean he won't brat whilst he's at it.

Each time he dares to rut up against you, buck his hips for a taste of friction, you land a slap across his face.

"Count," you order him. If it were anyone else using your tone in his presence their life would be very quickly lost. But your Ryomen only tilts his head back and offers you more.

"One," his sharp teeth grit.

You ride him faster, send him dizzier and dizzier and the second his hips move up to meet yours, you're striking him again.

"Fuck, two," you trace your fingertip over his reddening cheek. You'd believe it was only red from your palm if the other wasn't blushing as well.

"It's like you want to be hit," you deadpan, as if Sukuna could keep his wants a secret. "Keep—fuck—trying to take charge even when it hurts you."

"Doesn't hurt, brat," Sukuna grins, bearing his teeth to you. Before you can even raise your palm, the word is lolling off his tongue, "three."

You raise an eyebrow, but oblige nonetheless. You put some more force into this one, though you suspect that's exactly what Sukuna was aiming for, and the strangled moan that slips from his lips when your palm meets his cheek is made for porn.

When his gaze returns to you, there's a blissful look in his eyes that spurs your movements on. Your stomach rolls with a blooming orgasm at the sight of his expression: needy, desperate, submissive. Ryomen Sukuna, the man who dominates unearthly beings, at your mercy. His lips tremble, and you're almost too distracted by the beautiful look strewn across his face to realise his hands have met your hips and he's guiding you up and down on him like a toy.

"Four," when you slap him again, and a strangled "five" when you surprise him with a burning strike across the other cheek.

There's no stopping the shared orgasms that wash over the pair of you, what with Sukunas incessant bounce of you on his cock, or the searing tingle left behind by your palm's impact on his skin. You gasp, and ache, and pull at his hair with enough force to make him growl as he fills you up.

And when you've both calmed, sweaty against the black silk of his sheets, Sukuna takes your wrist and raises your hand in front of your face.

"I'll put a ring on your finger, so you'll leave a better mark next time."

[buckyalpine]

Bucky’s gift from you

Imagine Bucky receiving a birthday gift from you. His first birthday after years of not even remembering what day it was. Nothing extravagant; a small dinner and a chocolate cake with presents after. You got him a copy of his favorite book. Tea that helped him relax. Sitting on top of the gift bag was a soft, light brown teddy bear with the softest fur imaginable.

You wondered if the bear was a good choice to add, starting to feel a little embarrassed when you saw him inspecting it but Bucky thanked you for the gift with a polite smile nonetheless.

From the time you met Bucky, you knew he was a man of few words. He got along well with you and while you wanted to deny it, you were harboring a massive crush on the super soldier. The last thing you wanted to do was mess things up with his gift but there wasn't much you could do now.

What you didn't know was Bucky adored the bear with his entire being. It reminded him of the first and only bear he had, the one his mama got for him before he was even born. It was his favorite thing to sleep with, his protector to keep the nightmares away. He held the soft stuffy in his hands, placing it carefully beside his pillow, blushing when he could smell the soft scent of your perfume lingering on the fur. He got absolutely tongue tied around you, mustering a thank you without stuttering.

Bucky is well aware the bear is just stuffing and material sewn together but that doesn't stop him from occasionally hugging it tightly to his chest when he can't sleep. It starts to become a regular occurrence to the point where he doesn't fall asleep as easily without it.

He starts to take it with him everywhere, stuffing it into his duffle bag for safe keeping but of course he never actually takes it out. It stays perfectly safe, tucked between the book you got him and a few tea bags. He just likes to know its there.

The teddy bear remains a secret until a particularly taxing mission. He's exhausted, as is the entire team going days without rest, on the run the entire time. Once he boards the jet, he wants to collapse and sleep for the entire week but he just can't. He tried to close his eyes but sleep won't come.

He knows why.

He eyes his bag, now too sleep deprived to care about what anyone else thought.

Sam and Steve eyed a sleepy Bucky dragging himself off to the corner of the jet, pulling something out of his bag before curling up and falling right asleep almost instantly.

"The hell, he never falls asleep that quick" Steve cocked an eyebrow, hearing his best friend softly snoring peacefully.

"What did he grab from his bag" Sam whispered, both men peering over to get a better look, eyes growing wide when they saw what Bucky was holding.

His face was practically smushed into the bear, lashes fluttering against his cheeks, not a single sign of stress as he relaxed, holding onto his bear. He dreamt of you, asking you out on a first date, hoping you'd say yes to a second and maybe a third. He dreamt of getting to cuddle you when he slept instead, cheeks reddening in his sleep when he thought of how you'd feel wrapped in his arms.

"We're not letting him live this down, are we" Steve whispered while Sam reached for this phone, snapping at least 100 photos.

"Not a chance"

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

𝘿𝘼𝙔 𝙁𝙊𝙐𝙍: 69 w/ Dean Winchester

a/n: i'm actually so proud of myself because i'm exploring all different kinds of dynamics, and i can already tell that it's going to help further my writing abilities. like opening up new doors and what not. anywho, this is nasty and dirty and happy reading!!

masterlist | kinktober masterlist | AO3

“I’m going to crush you.” 

Was your response to Dean bringing up the fact that he had wanted to try out 69ing.

“Baby, you’ve sat on my face before, I think I’ll be okay.”

You blink at him, slow and assessing before shrugging, because he did have a point there.

“Fine.” You say, beginning to shred yourself of your clothes. He balks, wide eyed, but nevertheless scrambles excitedly off of the bed to get naked too, a large smile on his face.

“You wanna do it now? Like… right now?” Unable to keep the utter glee out of his voice. “No time like the present. Plus, it’s an intriguing idea.” There’s a quick second of silence before you playfully add, “Also, I kinda want to get eaten out right now.”

“That’s my girl.” He praises, his voice fond. Always, always fond.

Once you’re both as naked as the day you were born, he coaxes you over with a cheeky pat to his chest. “Come to papa.”

You snort. “You’re disgusting.”

“Yeah, yeah, and you love it.” 

“I guess so.” You sigh in false exasperation, but there’s a small smile on your face as you turn your back towards him, settling your ass on his lower thighs. You throw a seductive look over your shoulder.

He doesn’t meet your gaze though, because his eyes are too busy taking in the sight of your naked ass, large, calloused hands dragging themselves over the fatty flesh. His tongue peeks out, swiping at his bottom lip.

“Like what you see?” You can’t help but ask. “You know I do.” His words are choked and he retracts a hand just to place a stinging slap against your skin. You flinch and yelp before shimmying higher.

“Naughty.” You chide, but nonetheless don’t stop moving until your pussy is over his mouth and you’re face-to-face with his half hard cock. 

“Always so big, Deany baby.” You coo, hand gripping his base and running a teasing tongue right up the side, trailing along the pulsing vein. 

Dean sucks in a breath from below you before attaching his lips right onto your clit, sucking on it with a vigor that sends you forward. You tighten your grip on him as you moan, stroking him up and down.

You don’t hesitate to take him into your mouth as you gather your bearings, swirling your tongue around the head to collect his precum, his semen a bit salty and bitter on your tastebuds, but nonetheless, you sink lower and lower, swallowing around him as you go.

“Fuck, sweetheart.” Dean groans, the vibrations of the low timber of his voice shoots a shiver up your spine. You just hum, stroking what you can’t swallow. 

The pleasure that you’re giving him seems to give him a new kind of energy, because his own tongue plunges into your entrance, scooping out your wetness selfishly. You tremble from above him, eyes squeezing shut but you don’t stop.

Both of his hands spread your ass apart, his thumb teasing your asshole slightly just to send you jolting. You detach yourself from him, throwing a look over your shoulder to find that he looks all but pleased with himself.

“Dickhead.” You murmur, but reattach your lips to him, taking him down your throat again, going deeper and deeper until your eyes are watering and spits foams at the corner of your mouth.

Dean eats you out with abandon, eyes closed and stubble slightly burning the skin of your inner thighs. He’s dragging you down over his mouth, forcing you to ride his face as he alternates between suckling on your clit and actually eating you out.

His legs are shaking and you’re pretty sure you aren’t fairing much better, eyes nearly rolling into the back of your head at the feeling of your orgasm nearing. 

You swallow around him repeatedly before pulling off gasping, stroking him faster, gripping him harder, determined to drag him over the edge with you.

A particular graze of his teeth gently catching on the hood of your clit nearly barrels you straight into nirvana.

“Cumming! Fuck, Dean – cum with – please…” You beg suckling at the head of his tip, coaxing out more precum – you’re all but sucking the soul out him, bless his heart.

His thumb drags over and over your over sensitive nub, and your hips thrash wildly over his face before stilling, your orgasm overtaking you. You take to suckling harshly at the vein running up his cock once more, and he finally cums with a shout. You hurry to cover him with your mouth, swallowing his load.

You rest your head on his thigh as you attempt to come down from your orgasm, chest heaving up and down.

“You okay?” You can’t help but rasp, your throat raw and spent.

“I think… you just took years from my life. From my dick.”

The way he says it so blankly causes you to laugh, shoulders rising and falling with the sound.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @murdadixon @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @khxna @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus

[teapartyprincess4two]

Parenthood- M. Sturniolo

pairing: Mom!reader x Dad!Matt

classification: SFW & NSFW headcannons

inspiration: request

warnings: some 18+ content, use of Y/n, established relationship, I didn’t name the children but Matt has a son and a daughter in this 👍🏻

summary: head cannons of dad!Matt.

Parenthood- C. Sturniolo (Chris’s Version)

—

☆SFW

From the moment Matt met you, he knew he wanted you to be the mother of his children. Both of your children were received with so much love and joy, but Matt still had to learn how to navigate being a boy dad and a girl dad.

☆ Your firstborn is a boy and Matt can’t contain the excitement he feels when he first finds out.

☆ He’s overprotective of you throughout the entire pregnancy, ready to take care of your every need.

☆ Your son is hyper, rambunctious, curious and a force to be reckoned with. He barges into the room with so much energy balled up into his small figure that he’s bouncing off the walls.

☆ When your daughter is born, she’s the complete opposite of your son. She’s calm, quiet, and docile.

☆ It takes Matt some time to adjust to having a baby girl, but as soon as he gets in the groove of it he can’t remember what life was like before having a daughter.

☆ Matt’s playing soccer outside with your son, playing pirates, boxing, and building elaborate Lego sets with him.

☆ “No dad! We’re pirates! We have to steal all the gold!” your son explains, adjusting his make-shift eyepatch.

☆ “I thought we were ninjas?!” Matt’s out of breath, running after a fast toddler was extremely tiring.

☆ “No! We just beat the ninjas! They tried sneaking onto the ship, remember?” Your son’s imagination was too fast for Matt to keep up with.

☆ “Argh matey,” Matt replies, ready to continue with the game.

☆ But when your daughter wants attention he’s playing dress up, attending a tea party, getting his nails and makeup done, and talking to all her stuffed animals.

☆ “Daddy Miss Twinkle is mad at you for eating her cookies!” your daughter whispers, almost like she’s gossiping.

☆ Matt has lost track over which stuffed animal is which, but he’s assuming Miss Twinkle is the unicorn across from him.

☆ “I’m sorry Miss Twinkle,” he apologizes, shaking the toy’s hand.

☆ “Dad that was Lady Unicorn. Miss Twinkle is the teddy bear in the pink dress,” your daughter slaps her forehead. “Oops,” he laughs, taking a fake sip of tea.

☆ Matt has learned to be silly, fatherhood softening him and allowing him to abandon all embarrassment.

☆ “What are you wearing?” you laugh, Matt’s serious face adding to the comedy of the situation.

☆ He’s fully decked out in a pizza costume, trying to make your children laugh. “I’m a piece of pizza,” he replies goofily, putting on his best Italian accent.

☆ “You’re so silly daddy,” your son giggles. In his eyes, Matt is the funniest person on the planet.

☆ Your daughter is not as amused, but she smiles nonetheless.

☆ Matt loves doing domestic things with his little family. He’ll randomly pull out a baking sheet, all the ingredients to make cookies, and throw on an apron.

☆ “You’re doing so good, baby,” he coos, watching as your daughter throws an entire, uncracked egg into the mixing bowl. He wasn’t going to use that batch, but the words of encouragement have her smiling.

☆ Children fight all the time, especially when they’re siblings, and your kids are no exception. The year age gap doesn’t help either, so you’ll often find your kids bickering over the smallest things.

☆ “It’s not your turn to play, though!” your son attempts to reason, yanking the controller out of his sisters hands.

☆ “You played all day bozo!” she replies, sticking her tongue out at him.

☆ Matt hears the fight from his room, reluctantly getting up from his comfortable spot on his bed and walking over to where his children are.

☆ “What’s going on?” he asks, arms crossed and a displeased look etched on his face.

☆ “She’s being so annoying, dad!” your son exclaims, and before Matt knows it his kids are pushing, slapping, and punching each other.

☆ “HEY! BEHAVE!” Matt pulls them off of each other, scolding them both without favoritism. He goes on to lecture them about the importance of siblings and doesn’t leave until they hug and make up.

☆ Matt’s entire camera roll is filled with videos and pictures of his kids. Kindergarten ceremonies, family vacations, first haircuts, candid photos; all of it is being documented by Matt at all times.

☆ If he’s ever away from home for a long time, he’s scrolling through his gallery and reminiscing on all his memories with his babies.

☆ Your son is obsessed with video games, something that he and Matt bond over. And although your daughter isn’t as invested, she’s still really good at them.

☆ Mortal Kombat is a game they all play and enjoy together.

☆ “Move over and watch the queen play,” your daughter jokes, taking the controller from Matt after watching him lose time and time again to her brother.

☆ “Yeah, you wish you could beat me,” your son scoffs, readying up for another round.

☆ Your daughter chooses a girly character, which has your son rolling his eyes, but as soon as the round begins he can’t get a single hit in.

☆ Matt is in shock at her level of expertise, she was using combos he didn’t even know about.

☆ “Okay my turn against you, babygirl,” Matt takes the controller from his son, ready to play all night long if he has to.

☆ Having teenagers is hard and tiring, Matt feels like he ages 10 years in just one day with the amount of stress his kids cause him.

☆ Your daughter’s brain is suddenly occupied with nothing but boys and your son is starting to take girls on dates.

☆ “That skirt is too short,” you warn your daughter.

☆ “It is not,” she fights back, genuinely finding nothing wrong with her provocative outfit.

☆ Matt doesn’t have to say anything, one stern look has her trudging back upstairs to change.

☆ “Dad can I borrow the car?” your son asks nervously, avoiding Matt’s eyes at all costs.

☆ “For?” Matt’s not stupid, he knows what teenagers do.

☆ “Nothing, just hanging with some friends,” your son replies, but it doesn’t take long for Matt to get the truth out of him.

☆ Overall, fatherhood has been extremely rewarding for Matt. He sees it in the way his children love and look out for each other and what a great mom you are.

☆ “I love you guys so much,” Matt gushes, pulling the three of you in for a group hug.

☆ “Dad stop being weird,” your son groans, your daughter seconds his statement, but they don’t pull away from the hug.

☆NSFW

Having two children can take up a lot of personal time, especially when your daughter needs you and your son needs Matt. There’s never really any time for you and Matt to just exist as a couple, but he works hard to make sure you feel special everyday.

☆ You’re cooking lunch, the pure domesticity of your actions being enough to turn Matt on.

☆ The kids are still at school and if he’s convincing enough, you’ll abandon whatever’s on the stove and let him please you.

☆ Sneaky arms are wrapping around your waist, rocking you back and forth to the beat of the music that plays lowly in the background.

☆ Matt’s lips find your neck, your head falling back onto his shoulder in pleasure.

☆ Before you know it, you’re bent over the kitchen counter and Matt’s balls deep in you. “Take it,” he grunts, his hands gripping your waist so tight there were sure to be bruises.

☆ The food on the stove burns and you end up ordering pizza.

☆ When the kids are old enough, you and Matt leave them at home alone while you run errands.

☆ Something as simple as a quick trip to the grocery store turns into heated, passionate car sex.

☆ The windows are foggy and the car rocks with each thrust, Matt’s arms wrapped tightly around your waist as you ride him in the front seat.

☆ “You’re so fucking sexy,” he grunts, falling more in love with you as you whimper out his name. It doesn’t take long for him to finish, a string of curse words falling from his lips.

☆ Most times you two just do it in the shower. It’s sweet and full of so much love.

☆ He’ll fuck you against the cold tile wall before scrubbing your back and washing your hair you.

☆ It’s the sweet moments like this that both of you cherish. “I love you so much,” he whispers, the warm water running down both your faces. “I love you too,” you reply with a smile, going in for a passionate kiss.

—

MASTERLIST

A/n: can I hear some commotion for dad Matt🎤

-L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

—

taglist: @nicksmainbitch @sturniololovers @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn @mxqdii @fawned01 @junnniiieee07 @sturniolololover @missriddle03

note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐

[dmitriene]

cw: kind of voyeurism, little tf141 x reader.

kyle garrick is sly enough to put your most vulnerable picture on his phone lock screen, a photo in which your face is almost invisible, partially hidden by a pillow and his palm, which outlines your jaw, holding, making the gaze of those who look catch on your drooling, pouting lips, disheveled hair, there's nothing remarkable about it, but all those little details, glimpses of your naked skin, make everyone understand what was happening in the background.

no one has been there, but it's easy to imagine how you looked, laid out prettily on your tummy, round ass perched out under the grind of his hips, the palming, greedy touches against your skin, kneading at the fat globs that bounce in front of kyle's heavy lidded, murky gaze, crinkling at your gurgling moans, neck craning back as your sweet keens drown down his hoarse grunts, lengthy cock pulsing, leaking along your tight, rippling walls.

even at the picture, there's a small glimpse of your teary, glossed eyes, rolled down in your head almost completely, and the sight is addicting, to the point where the one who saw kyle's lock screen, those being his comrades from the task force, have to fight themselves so as not to fist their cocks at the image of you, failing nonetheless, your bare form haunting, pressed down by lean, smooth chest down to the sweaty, soiled sheets, sobbing during your orgasm.

fucked back by the tight, enveloping grip around the curve of your waist, tugged in time to meet kyle's rapid, pistoning hips, rutting in your pussy to the point where you just jolt weakly, his weight bearing on you the more he gets close, searing coil squeezing, tightening in both of your stomachaches, as you babble out small gasps, hips squirming, pushing, before your orgasm wrecks you, slick squelching, dripping between your thighs and down his thick cock, catching at the curly hair of his groin.

when kyle snaps the picture, you aren't even fighting him and the bright flash of the camera, just laying there, melting into the bed in the afterglow, tingling shivers coursing through your body, as he smoothes a soothing hand down your curled back, cooing something you barely hear, a bright, toothy smile to his lips, missing the mention of that the boys gonna love you.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[l13]

hmm idk this is fluffy but i feel like ghost would secretly melt every time his gf would call him ‘angel’

wdym i love fluffff, send me fluffy asks i love emm:(

cw: pure fluff, f!reader

imagine you and ghost are cuddling, nd you're laying on your back with his hands wrapped around your middle, his head resting against your chest while you're talking about random stuff. And suddenly, nicknames come up, and you realize that you always call him either Simon or Ghost, despite him using 'lovie/love, baby, sweeatheart' regularly on you. Well... most of them were spoken in private, away from prying eyes, but STILL.

You were in shock that you'd never chosen anything for him, and kinda offended on behalf of him, too. He chuckled at your behavior, saying he really didn't care, but you insisted that he needed something. So you started to list off potential nicknames for him,

"Ghostie-"

"Absolutely not."

"Yeah that's bad, umm oh!! You can be my pookie bear,"

he nudged your side softly, the corner of his lips quirking up in amusement "Stop it."

"I'm just playing. I can call you love, too, yknow. You're my love."

You run your fingers through his hair, smiling dumbly at the way you feel his breath hitch, but then he's huffing "That's your nickname, love, you can't have it."

"But I do have it-"

"I have it, and it's for you,"

you purse your lips to stop yourself from laughing, rolling your eyes "Fine." he hums in reply, and you're both quiet for a while, so much so that you think he's fallen asleep.

But then an idea pops into your head and your eyebrows shoot up, "What about angel?"

Ghost doesn't say anything but you can hear the sharp inhale of his nose, his hands tightening the slightest bit around you "Nah,"

you pout down at him, tilting your head to try and get a glimpse of his face, "Why not?"

"Just doesn't fit me, 's all." and you would have let it go if his reply had been different, but your gut told you that he was 100% serious,

"Simon.. Look at me," he refused to do so, so you tugged at his hair the slightest bit, and he groaned lowly, turning over so his chest is flush against your own, supporting his weight on his forearms on either side of your head, his nose nudging your own.

your fingers fall from in between his hair, down to his cheeks, to cradle them in your palms as you look at him "You're an angel."

Ghost huffs, "An angel that kills people, sure,"

"Well... in Supernatural that's the norm-"

"Fuckin' hell.." he's rolling his eyes, a grin tugging at his lips nonetheless.

You narrow your eyes at him playfully, "Rule's changed, you don't get a say in this. I'm gonna call you angel, and that's final."

"Great." a snort escapes you at his dryness, and you giggle when he nuzzles his face against your cheek, planting a soft kiss on your cheekbone.

"I want more enthusiasm or else it's gonna change to pookie bear-"

Simon leans back to fully look at you, his eyebrows shot up, eyes seemingly glinting with mock interest "Changed my mind, angel's growin' on me."

"Thought so,"

<3

The next day when you walk in the mission brief room (idk wtf to call it, meeting room??) you mumble a small "Hey, angel," and maybe your brain is still foggy from sleep or maybe you genuinely didn't think much of it, but Soap's cackle is immediate, "Hey bon, listen I'm lovin' the new name but take me out to dinner first, yeah?"

Ghost's dumb grin fades in a millisecond at soap's comment and before he's realizing what he's doing he lets his hand brush your own as you pass by him, and then he's meeting Soap's stunned eyes, "She's talking to me,"

Soap still doesn't know what the fuck is going on when Ghost turns to you, muttering a small "Hi, lovie," your way,

[novaursa]

The Dragon and The Wolf

- Summary: Rhaenyra sends her daughter instead of her son to fly North. You.

- Paring: velayrion!reader/Cregan Stark

- Note: reader is referred to as Y/N, is second born child of Rhaenyra, has silver hair and violet eyes and is a dragonrider. For more of my works visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top.

- Rating: Mature 16+ (expect for rating to go higher in the next chapter)

- Word count: 3 681

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @21-princess

- A/N: I had this one stored away, but I've decided to post it on a request. Harwin Strong one is not yet finished, but will be posted in coming days. I'll see how both of these are received before posting more.

The wind whips across the snow-dusted fields, biting and cold, as you soar above on your dragon, Thraxata. The North stretches below like a vast, white ocean, with Winterfell looming ahead in the distance, its grey walls rising like ancient guardians against the winter sky. The sun hangs low on the horizon, casting a pale light that glimmers off the frost-coated land.

Thraxata’s dark scales gleam like polished obsidian, a stark contrast to the endless white beneath. Her massive wings carve through the air with graceful power, the membrane tinted in deep shades of violet and blue, like the twilight sky before night fully descends. She is known as the Midnight Fury in whispers—born of shadow and flame, a terror in the night skies. Her roar splits the silence, echoing across the fields, a sound both commanding and otherworldly.

From your perch on her back, you spot the waiting banners below: the direwolf of Stark, surrounded by lesser sigils of Northern houses. Lord Cregan Stark stands at their forefront, a tall figure clad in thick furs and armor, as still and stern as the land he rules. He expects a prince, no doubt, a son of Rhaenyra, a warrior with fire in his veins. But you are no prince.

You are Y/N Velaryon, the only daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen. Silver-haired like your mother, with eyes the color of amethyst flames, you are the embodiment of old Valyria—a sight that would capture any man’s breath, even in the frozen heart of the North. Unlike your brothers, there is no questioning the blood that runs in your veins. You carry both the fire of your ancestors and the steel of the sea, a daughter of dragon and salt.

Thraxata descends with a mighty sweep of her wings, stirring a storm of snow and ice as her talons dig into the frozen ground. Her head swivels as she growls low, a deep rumble that vibrates through your body, her violet eyes fixed on the assembled Northerners. You dismount with practiced grace, the long cloak of thick fur billowing behind you as your boots crunch into the snow.

The men whisper, their breath misting in the cold air, eyes wide with awe and trepidation. No prince, but something more—something wilder, something that belongs in tales and legends.

Cregan Stark steps forward, his eyes fixed on you. They are grey like the winter itself, hard and sharp, yet there is a glint of something else—curiosity, perhaps, or a flicker of admiration beneath the layers of duty. He dips his head in a respectful nod, though his eyes never leave yours.

"Princess," he greets you, his voice deep and resonant, like a wolf's growl beneath the snow. "Winterfell welcomes you. I had expected a prince, but the Queen has sent a dragon nonetheless."

Your lips curve into a small smile, cold as the winter air. "My brothers may be princes, but it is I who bears the fire and ice that binds our realms, Lord Stark. I trust you will remember the oaths sworn to my mother, and the duty you hold to the true Queen."

His eyes narrow slightly, though there is no hostility, merely calculation. "The North remembers its oaths, Princess. But oaths are easily sworn and easily forgotten when the fires of war draw near. I would hear your words and judge for myself where our loyalties lie."

Thraxata’s tail lashes behind you, sending a spray of snow into the air. You can sense her restlessness, her desire to protect you, to assert her dominance in this land where dragons are more myth than reality. But you place a gloved hand on her scaled flank, a silent command, and she stills, though her eyes remain fixed on Cregan.

"You speak with wisdom, my lord," you reply, your voice firm but laced with the authority of the blood you carry. "But the North has never bent to whispers or empty promises. My mother’s cause is just, her claim undeniable. The realm needs strength, and you know as well as I that only fire can bring the long night to its knees."

There’s a flicker of something—approval, perhaps—in Cregan’s gaze. He steps closer, his boots crunching in the snow, until you are but a breath away. The North has always been a place where respect is earned through strength and resolve, not titles or finery. In that moment, you realize that your mother’s choice was not a mistake; you were sent because here, in this land of cold and iron, you are seen not as a delicate princess, but as something fiercer.

"Then perhaps the Queen chose wisely in sending you," he murmurs, his voice low, for your ears alone. "The North respects strength, and it seems that is something you possess in abundance, Y/N Velaryon."

There is a tension between you, a silent acknowledgment of the game you both play. He is the Wolf of Winterfell, and you are the Dragon sent to bind him to your mother’s cause. But there is something else too—a flicker of intrigue, of something more personal beneath the formalities.

“I shall make my case before the gathered lords,” you say, breaking the charged silence. “And I trust that Winterfell will extend the hospitality due to a dragon and her rider.”

He gives a slight incline of his head, a gesture of respect between equals. “Winterfell is yours, Princess. And I look forward to seeing just how fierce the fire of a dragon truly burns.”

With that, he steps back, signaling to his men. The banners dip in a formal show of respect as you walk forward, the Northern lords parting to make way for you. Thraxata stays behind, watchful, a dark shadow against the snow.

As you enter the gates of Winterfell, you can feel the eyes of Cregan Stark on your back, heavy with unspoken questions, and perhaps—just perhaps—the first stirrings of something that could grow amidst the frost and flame.

The warmth of Winterfell’s great hall is a great contrast to the biting cold outside. The stone walls are thick and ancient, adorned with tapestries depicting wolves in the hunt and battles long past. A roaring fire burns in the hearth, casting flickering shadows that dance across the rough-hewn beams above. The scent of woodsmoke and roasted meat fills the air, mingling with the faint tang of iron and earth, as though even the stone itself remembers the blood spilled within these walls.

You stride forward with measured grace, your fur-lined cloak trailing behind you. Eyes turn your way as you pass, curious glances that are quickly averted once they meet your violet gaze. The courtiers and bannermen of Winterfell are not accustomed to your kind—a dragonrider with Valyrian blood, a figure more suited to the tales of Old Nan than to the cold North. They murmur among themselves, voices hushed but thick with speculation, wondering if you are as fierce as the stories of your mother suggest.

Lord Cregan walks beside you, his stride steady and sure, the embodiment of Northern strength and resolve. He leads you to the head of the hall, where a carved wooden chair sits, draped in furs—a seat of honor, meant for you. As you take your place, his voice rings out, commanding the attention of everyone present.

"The Princess Y/N Velaryon graces us with her presence. Her arrival is most fortunate, for it seems the North’s business does not wait. House Glover has brought a criminal before us—a man accused of grave crimes—and they demand justice. Perhaps," he says, his grey eyes locking onto yours, "it would be fitting for a dragon to pass judgment."

There’s no mistaking the challenge in his words. This is a test, one meant to gauge your strength, your understanding of Northern customs, and how you wield your authority. He watches you closely, waiting for your reaction, as do the assembled lords. You know this moment is pivotal; how you handle this situation will determine whether they see you as just another southern princess, or as something more—someone who can command both fire and frost.

You meet his gaze evenly, a faint smile playing on your lips. "It would be an honor to dispense justice in the North, Lord Stark. Show me this criminal and let us see what manner of man he is."

Cregan gives a slight nod, and with a gesture, the doors at the end of the hall creak open. The sound echoes through the chamber as two men of House Glover drag a prisoner forward, shoving him to his knees before you. He’s a ragged, weathered man with wild eyes and a face marked by scars. His clothes are filthy and torn, his hands bound with rough cord. There’s a stink about him—of sweat, fear, and desperation.

One of the Glovers steps forward, bowing briefly before addressing you and Cregan. "This man, Wyl Gray, is accused of murdering his kin and stealing from their holdings. He fled north to escape our justice, but we tracked him down and brought him here, as is our right."

The hall falls silent, all eyes on you now. The weight of their expectation is palpable. You rise slowly from your seat, descending the steps with a regal grace. Your voice is soft but carries through the room with the authority that only a dragonrider can wield.

"Wyl Gray," you say, your tone cold as the Northern winds, "you stand accused of betraying your own blood and committing theft in the lands sworn to House Glover. What have you to say in your defense?"

The man’s eyes dart around wildly, searching for some hope, some mercy, but finding none. He looks up at you, trembling slightly. "I did what I had to," he snarls, his voice hoarse. "My kin treated me worse than a dog, taking what was mine by right. I took back what they stole from me—nothing more!"

The hall murmurs in response to his words, some in anger, others in grudging acknowledgment. You can see the flickers of approval from a few of the assembled Northerners—they value strength, even when twisted by desperation. But you know better than to be swayed by the claims of a desperate man. His actions speak louder than his words.

You step closer, your gaze piercing. "You claim they took from you, yet you took their lives. Blood demands blood, Wyl Gray. In the North, justice is harsh and swift, but it is also fair. A man who cannot protect what is his without resorting to murder is a man unfit to live among honorable men."

Cregan watches you intently, his expression unreadable, but you can feel the shift in the room. The lords are weighing your words, assessing how well you understand their ways. It’s not enough to be just, you must be decisive—and you must show that you are not ruled by softness.

"You are guilty of murder and theft," you continue, your voice unwavering. "But the North does not deal in mercy for such crimes. You shall face the punishment decreed by the Old Ways. Justice shall be meted out by the one who passes the sentence."

A heavy silence falls over the hall. This is the moment—where the test truly lies. You could ask Cregan to deal with the criminal himself, and none would question it. But you understand what is truly being asked of you. The North respects those who do not flinch from difficult decisions, those who stand by their words with action.

You turn to Cregan. "Bring me the sword," you command.

There’s a ripple of surprise among the lords, but Cregan’s expression shifts, a hint of approval crossing his stern features. He gestures, and a massive sword, long and sharp, is placed into your hands. Its weight is heavy, but you hold it with ease, feeling the cold steel beneath your fingers.

You step before the kneeling man. His eyes widen in terror, realizing that you intend to carry out the sentence yourself. You look down at him, feeling no pity, only the cold resolve needed to see justice done. "In the name of House Glover, for the blood you have spilled and the dishonor you have brought upon yourself, I sentence you to death. May the gods judge your soul as they see fit."

With a swift, clean stroke, you bring the sword down, severing his head from his body. The hall is silent, save for the soft thud of the head hitting the stone floor and the hiss of blood soaking into the rushes.

You let out a breath, handing the sword back to a waiting Stark guard. The lords nod with approval, respect in their eyes. This is not a land for those who shy away from harsh truths or difficult choices. You have shown them that you understand the North’s ways—and that you are as much dragon as you are queen’s daughter.

Cregan steps forward, a slight smile touching his lips. "Well done, Princess. The North remembers strength, and today, you have proven yours."

There’s a weight to his words, a subtle acknowledgment that you’ve passed his test. The respect between you has grown, forged not only by fire and ice, but by a mutual understanding of what it takes to rule.

As the hall begins to stir with renewed conversation, you feel Cregan’s eyes linger on you a moment longer than necessary, something unspoken passing between you. It’s not just respect now—there’s a flicker of something deeper, something that might grow, given time.

But for now, you’ve earned your place among the wolves. And in doing so, you’ve taken the first step toward binding the North to your mother’s cause.

A little more than two weeks have passed since your arrival at Winterfell, and in that time, you have come to understand the North in ways few from the south ever do. The cold no longer bites as fiercely, the rough customs of the Northerners have become familiar, and even the solemn howls of the wolves at night are a comfort rather than a cause for concern. You’ve spent your days among Cregan’s people, riding alongside his bannermen, sitting in council with his advisors, and breaking bread with his warriors in the hall. You’ve proven yourself capable in all the ways that matter to them—skilled with both words and steel, a dragon in human form.

The Northern lords have come to trust you, their respect won by your ability to speak plainly and match them in courage. They see in you a reflection of their own values—honor, strength, and loyalty. Even Thraxata, the Midnight Fury, has found her lair in the craggy wilderness nearby, roosting among the jagged rocks as if she, too, feels at home in this stark and wild land. The villagers whisper tales of the black dragon seen circling the mountains, her shadow long across the snow, a fearsome guardian from the days of old.

Today, you ride out with Lord Cregan and his men on a hunt. The sky is a bleak grey, thick with the promise of snow, and the air carries the scent of pine and earth. The forest is dense, the trees tall and ancient, their branches heavy with frost. It’s a test, of sorts—Cregan’s way of seeing how well you handle yourself in their world, not just as a rider of dragons, but as a hunter and a leader.

You ride astride a hardy Northern stallion, its breath steaming in the cold air, and you match the men stride for stride as they navigate the rough terrain. Cregan rides beside you, his expression more open than it had been when you first met. Over these past weeks, a bond has formed between you—one built on mutual respect and a growing sense of trust. He speaks more freely now, and there’s a warmth in his tone that was absent when you first arrived.

When the hunt begins, you do not hesitate to join the chase. The hounds bay as they track the scent of a massive stag, and you ride hard, your cloak snapping behind you in the wind. You’re no stranger to riding, and you handle your steed with ease, navigating the twisting paths and snow-laden ground. When the time comes to strike, you draw your bow with practiced precision, letting the arrow fly. It finds its mark true, and the stag falls. The men around you roar with approval, slapping their shields and calling your name in praise. They respect a woman who can hunt as well as any man, and here, they see you as one of their own—a warrior, not just a princess.

As the hunt winds down, Cregan approaches you, his face flushed from the cold and the thrill of the chase. "You’ve more than earned your place among us, Y/N," he says, his voice gruff but warm. "Few could keep pace with Northern men in their own forests, let alone best them. I see now why the Queen sent you instead of a prince. You’ve shown strength and wisdom—two things the North values above all else."

You incline your head in acknowledgment. "I’ve come to admire the North and its people. But admiration is not the same as allegiance. I must ask, Lord Stark—will you now stand by my mother and send your armies south to fight in her name?"

Cregan’s expression shifts, a shadow crossing his eyes as he considers your question. He’s silent for a long moment, his gaze turning toward the distant horizon, where the land stretches into a vast, icy wilderness. "The North is not like the South," he says finally, his tone measured. "Our duty is first and foremost to our own. With winter coming, my responsibility is to the Wall and to the people who must survive the cold months ahead. I cannot, in good conscience, march thousands of men south when their families might starve without them."

You frown slightly, frustration creeping in. "So you’ll abandon my mother’s cause? You gave your word, Lord Stark."

Cregan’s eyes meet yours, unwavering. "I do not break my word, Princess. I swore to uphold my oaths, and I will. But sending armies south would be folly with winter approaching. However," he continues, his tone softening as he watches your reaction, "there are those in the North who would fight, even in the harshest winters. The Greybeards—elders, warriors who have lived long and seen much. When winter comes, many of them leave their homes, believing it is better to pass in battle than to linger and be a burden on their kin. They are few in number, but each is worth a dozen younger men in skill and experience. I will send them to your mother, to fight in her name. They may not be an army, but they are a force to be reckoned with."

It’s a compromise, one that you didn’t expect but cannot wholly dismiss. You nod slowly, understanding the practicality behind his words. "Your support, even in this way, will strengthen our position. I thank you for honoring your oath, Lord Stark."

Cregan remains silent for a moment, his expression thoughtful. When he speaks again, his voice is quieter, more personal. "There is another matter I wish to discuss—a way to bind North and South even closer. You’ve proven yourself in the eyes of my people, and I have come to value your counsel and your strength. The North needs a Warden, but it also needs stability and unity. I am in need of a wife, Y/N."

His words catch you off guard. You had expected negotiations over troops and strategies, but not this. You study him closely, searching for any hint of jest, but there is none. His gaze is steady, earnest even, and the weight of his words is not lost on you.

"A marriage alliance," you murmur, more to yourself than to him. It’s a move that makes sense, politically and strategically. Your mother’s cause would be strengthened by such a bond, and Cregan’s position would be solidified, uniting the North under his leadership. But you know it’s more than just politics—there’s something personal in his offer, a recognition of the connection that has grown between you over these weeks.

Cregan inclines his head. "A marriage would do more than just bind our houses. It would be a show of unity between North and South, and it would ensure that whatever may come in this war, our strength remains undivided. You are a woman worthy of the North, and I would be honored to stand beside you as more than just allies."

You consider his words carefully, your mind weighing the implications. There’s a certain inevitability in the offer, a recognition that your paths have been converging since the moment you arrived at Winterfell. You could refuse, insist on keeping your independence, but you know that this is more than just a marriage proposal—it’s a partnership that could shape the course of the war and the future of the realm.

Finally, you meet his gaze, your voice clear and firm. "If this is the path we choose, Lord Stark, know that I will be as fierce in our union as I am in battle. The North will have a wife who is as much dragon as she is Velaryon. But I do not take such matters lightly—if we are to do this, it must be done with respect, trust, and understanding."

Cregan’s smile is genuine, his eyes gleaming with both respect and something warmer. "I would expect nothing less, Y/N. We’ll have much to discuss in the days to come, but I believe this could be the start of something greater than either of us alone."

The weight of his words lingers between you, and as you ride back toward Winterfell together, there’s an unspoken understanding—a shared resolve. You have won the respect of the North, secured their support, and now, perhaps, you are on the verge of something more—an alliance forged not just in duty, but in fire and ice, strength and trust.

[possiblyreallyme]

Kinktober day 11: mirror sex with Zoro

warning: mirror sex, slight angst but not really, insecure reader, guilty zoro, idk how to write for mirror sex bear with me y'all

kinktober masterlist

Zoro was never known to be a man good with words. He was a quiet lover, who chose to keep an arm looped around your waist when in front of the crew rather than tell you how much he truly did love you, preferring to give your ass a nice smack or kiss you deeply when he thought you wore something particularly flattering, instead of simply telling you how beautiful you looked.

But when he caught sight of how you scrunched your nose in distaste when you saw your reflection in the water, he made sure to casually drop the fact that he thought you looked extra pretty today when he was training. And when he saw the saddened look in your eye when your own face stared back at you from the reflective shop window when in a small port town, he was quick to explain to the next person he met that you were his beautiful girlfriend.

However, when he heard saw you close your eyes and turn your head away from the mirror hanging on the wall in shame, a nervous look on your face that clearly screamed "I don't like how I look in pleasure", he couldn't take it.

"Fuck, y'see that, babydoll? Y'look so fuckin' pretty," He grunted in your ear, fucking his hips into you from behind while he held your chin firmly, making you watch in the mirror how your drooling cunt took his abnormally fat cock with ease.

He just couldn't stand to see you thinking of yourself that way. When he could cum his pants just from one look at how your eyes rolled back when he mouthed at your clit, and you saw it as ugly. it made him feel like he failed, and Roronoa Zoro doesn't fail.

"Tell me, baby, who's the prettiest damn girl in the world?" He growled, practically threatening you into speaking, daring you to say anything but yourself.

"Me!" You moaned, the shame eating at your soul as tears of pleasure pricked your eyes, but it was like he could smell your insecurity through the scent of your arousal, because his face contorted in frustration.

"Damn it," He murmured, pulling out of you in one quick jerk of his hips, electing a loud whine from high in your throat in protest to the emptiness he caused you. "What's it gonna take to fuckin' show you how beautiful you are?!"

He wasn't mad at you, not in the slightest. He was mad at himself. For not speaking up more when he saw your pretty smile, for not telling you each time your giggle made his heart flutter, for not fucking you with each erection you gave him when you glared.

He flipped you around before you could make another noise, pinning you to the mattress with his heavy weight keeping you caged in, feeling the red tip of his cock pressing into your folds and prodding at your quivering entrance. "You look in that mirror, and if you take your eyes off, I'mma edge you 'till you're cryin' those pretty tears again and beggin' me to let you cum around my dick."

You shivered at the low tone in his voice, glancing to the side of the bed where the mirror showed you not only yourself, but how wide he had spread your legs, how his muscles stayed tense and how sweaty he had made you, sporting a wild mess of bedhead and nipples perky under his hot breath. Now that got you a little wetter, focusing more on how his cock looked nestled in your folds than anything else, but it was a start he was proud of nonetheless.

"There you go," He purred, lifting his hips just enough to get some leverage, pressing himself into you so that he just barely dipped his tip into your cunt. "You see that? That's your gorgeous little pussy taking my cock so well," He chuckled, feeling just a little less guilty when you responded to his praise with a mewl. "Yeah, I know you love it, but lemme tell you what I love."

The gasp that tore through you when he took your nipple into his mouth made him twitch, and when almost looked down at him, he shot his hand p to hold your jaw, turning you too look back into the mirror like he told you before. "I love these little tits, so, so much, beautiful, you don't even know."

You were forced to watch how his tongue circled your hardened nipple in the reflection, his saliva already beginning to drip down your breast and pool around your tummy, and you found yourself admiring how good it looked to have his slobber making you glimmer in the light. Once more, he felt his chest swell with pride at the progress you were making.

"Look, look," He murmured, almost sounding a little clumsy in the way he caressed your jaw and moved from your chest to your neck, pressing hot kisses to your pulse as he pushed his cock in just a little bit more to keep you nice and dazed. "See how fucking lovely your face looks, with your lips parted and your eyebrows furrowed- fuckkkk, baby, I could cum just thinkin' about it."

You almost didn't believe him, until you looked in the mirror again and saw how much his balls had tightened, and you were once again proven wrong when you saw how you noticed how pretty you looked when his stretch made you shiver.

"Ugh- see? You're so pretty, too pretty, I never know what to say," And the truth comes out. He felt fucking stupid now that he was saying it out loud, but damn, it felt good to get it off his chest. He knew you knew he wasn't good with words, but he was just going to have to find a way to suck it up and be a man.

"I'll tell you more, 'm sorry," He murmured, pressing a sloppy kiss just below your ear in a messy apology, starting to slide his cock deeper into you. "I'm tellin' you, baby, I've never seen a hotter fucking girl. Just watch the mirror, honey, I'll prove it to you."

[galacticgraffiti]

✿⋅ Oh, to be Alone with You ⋅✿

NSFW ⋆ 18+ ⋆ Minors DNI

Rating: Explicit Wordcount: 2.6k Descriptors: I try my best to write inclusively. Reader uses she/her pronouns and is mentioned in her physicality but not described in detail. If anything escaped me, please let me know! Sorry I couldn't make this more gender neutral, but since this fic is a gift to @naariel I thought I'd use her pronouns. Warnings: dirty daydreams, yearning, lusting after someone, male masturbation, dirty talk, fantasy of PiV sex within the daydream, bath sex, this is written from Halsin's POV

⋆⋅ Inspired by this insane artwork by @naariel ⋅⋆

Author's note: I've been pondering, rotating and marinating this artwork in my mind for WEEKS. It haunts me in the best possible way and I am so happy Naariel gave me permission to reference her art! If you are not already following her, you definitely should - her skill and talent are infinite.

Masterlist ⋆ If you prefer AO3

───── ⋆⋅✿⋅⋆ ─────

Oh, to be Alone with You

Halsin sighs when he finally sits down, long limbs sprawling on the too-small chair that can barely contain him.

Chairs. What superfluous oddities, where a big tree stump might have sufficed. If one has to make them at all, why not at least make them comfortable? Why not sit in the meadows, why not find a place to lay where the sun has warmed a rock that has been washed and polished by the rain? But no, the rules of the city demand he be contained within four walls instead of roaming free, they demand he bathe in a wooden tub instead of out in the wilds, they demand he wear clothes and be polite to people even as they trample the Oak Father’s creations beneath their boots without even stopping to look and enjoy nature’s gifts.

Halsin shuts his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose to stave off the oncoming headache. It has been a long day and he is so tired. A long week. A long few weeks, if he is being honest with himself. In all these centuries, times have been- well-  rough, to say the least. But whatever haunts the Sword Coast now… it’s different. Bigger than the invasions of Goblins across the land, bigger than the Shadow druids, bigger even than the Shadow Curse that has occupied Halsin’s every waking hour for nigh on one hundred years.

At least, Thaniel and Oliver have been reunited, some life returning to the lands as it always should have been. A victory, chased for so long, tasting sweet only for a moment before the stale urgency of the matter at hand had seeped back into Halsin’s mind: Mindflayers infecting innocents, magic-infused tadpoles, an Elder Brain… There are too many battles to be fought, and not one of them to be won.

Halsin presses his lips together and tries to banish the dark thoughts from his mind. There are some good things that have come out of this: They have not lost a fight yet, and his newfound companions are… stimulating, to say the least. Fighting alongside them has been a joy and a privilege - watching their blades sear, their magic erupt, their arrows pierce their targets as the bear Halsin rips through flesh and bone. The fighting is necessary, and his companions are more skilled than he could have ever wished for. This day may have been hard, but it was successful nonetheless, and now he is here, freshly bathed and ready to find some rest for the night. If only it could be under the stars, far outside the city walls, he would almost call himself happy. Instead, he must bed down alone, encased by  too many walls and a too-small bed frame.

Halsin misses the smell of grass that has not been trampled by hundreds of boot-clad feet, he misses the feeling of bark against his fur, he misses his wildshape and trodding through calm forests instead of bloodied battlefields. He misses air that is crisp and clean and doesn't smell of artificially molten metals. He misses the Grove, he misses Thaniel and he misses the woods. The city has been forsaken by Silvanus, and even if this place is a small oasis of nature, it is not the same as being out among the Oak Father’s creations.

He cracks his neck, his hair tickling his collarbones. Halsin curses quietly to himself, pushing a curl behind his ear. He needs to cut his hair - it’s getting too long. And he needs to braid it again, his plaits are all out of sorts. It might be a hassle to do it without a mirror- but maybe he could ask-

No.

Shaking his head as if to will the thought away, he slumps into the discomfort of the chair a little more.

No, he shouldn't ask her anything. Nothing that would involve her hands on him, at least. Certainly not her fingers buried in his hair, tugging softly, her voice gently commanding that he tilt his head a different way. He can’t ask for that. It would only lead to him asking for more:

More of her hands on him, more of her skin against his, more than innocent touches and whispered goodnights across the campfire. He would ask for everything: To bury himself inside her until the world fades away, to devour her until she is slick with sweat from the pleasure he brings her. To be the keeper of her heart, just as he yearns for her to be the keeper of his.

Halsin can feel the familiar tightness in his back as the golden shimmer of his wildshape travels up to his shoulder blades. One thought of her, and already the bear stirs.

He remembers everything that happened today, even as he tries so hard to think of something else:

He remembers the way she smells, of sweet berries, blood and leather. He remembers her looking up at him, as her fingers clutch her weapon tightly. He remembers the fire in her eyes after the slaughter, the glow in her cheeks when she turned around to look at him and found only the bear. He remembers how she smiled at him, even after all that violence, a smile like the sinking sun, bloodied and red, but more beautiful than he could ever have dreamed up.

And as the day progressed: Her arm bumping into his, her head tilting up when she asked him a question and wanted to read his expression. How her hands slipped around him to reach for some food at the campfire earlier when they rested. Her sweet breath on his face and a mumbled excuse when she walked into him, still drowsy with sleep. And all Halsin wanted to do was pull her into his lap and bury his nose in the crook of her neck and forget about the world, forget about everyone watching, and have her, right then, in that moment. Have her all to himself, make her his very own. To feel her around him, to show her the depth of his affection, the desperation of his desire, the magnitude of his commitment.

All he wanted in that moment - all he still wants - is to touch her, to feel her in ways that he cannot ask for because he is scared she will not want the same thing he does. Halsin wants to lick the sweat off her skin, he wants to be buried between her thighs whenever they can steal away, even for a few minutes, he wants her taste on his tongue when he fights, and to wrap himself around her when they sleep.

The force of his own thoughts makes Halsin shudder, glowing desire stirring deep in his belly.

Her tongue in his mouth, his hands on her skin: How soft she would be against him. How wonderful to hear her voice break when she cries out for him, how she would taste if he could lick her off his fingers, the honey of her thighs, the salt of her sweat. He would give anything to know the expression on her face when she is lost to mindless bliss- he would give everything to know that he is the cause of it.

A low moan escapes his throat then, and Halsin presses his lips together when his mind returns from memory and sweet imagination to this house in the midst of a bustling city. This is not nature, where he can do what pleases him when it pleases him. No, the city - ‘civilisation’ as they call it - comes with rules, expectations, limitations.

He is in someone else’s home, exhausted from the day, the blood barely washed off his skin. And yet, all he can think about is… her. All he can feel is the constriction of his clothing, the confinement of leather where he longs to be touched. He wants to shed like the bear sheds his fur after the winter, he wants to feel free again.

Halsin hums, breathing deeply, willing away the golden sparks of his wildshape that dance along his fingertips. He listens intently, fingers dancing across his thighs, drumming an impatient rhythm.

Nothing in the house stirs. Maybe they are all gone still, running their errands, finding bath houses, visiting old friends and merchants they used to know before they return here for a long night’s rest. Maybe Halsin can have a small pocket of time to himself. Time to dream himself away, to give in to the desire he has harboured for so long.

Maybe… he could use this opportunity to release some of that tension that has settled deep in his belly. Refocus his attention. Maybe it’ll be for the best- not to think of her constantly anymore, not of her smell, or the colour of her eyes, of the way her fingers linger on his for a moment too long whenever they touch, or how much he wished they could have bathed together when he sank into the tub earlier that night.

The city has many downsides, but baths are one of the few things to enjoy. Hot springs are wonderful, but few and far between. Nature provides: The bear does not mind the coldness of a stream in the woods, or the iciness of a mountain lake. But there is nothing like a steaming bath to help prevent the sore ache that settles in his bones after a fight.

If only it was acceptable to ask her if she would join him. If only it had been her hands washing dirt and grime and blood from his skin, brushing his hair, kneading tired muscles, her hands much smaller than his, but strong and determined. Loving.

Halsin lets his head fall back, spine cracking as he settles in the small, uncomfortable chair, spreading his legs to cup his hardening cock. He closes his eyes and tries to imagine it…

She glistens in the dim light, thin streams of water trickling down her skin when she emerges from the bath, her lashes stuck together as she beams at him.

“Mhh, we should have done this ages ago!”

“I could not agree more, my heart.” Halsin loves seeing her like this. She looks happy, like she has not a care in the world.

She crawls up into his lap, settling on him, her thighs bracketing his. Her hands run across his chest, lathering him in soap that smells of lavender and thyme. Halsin’s heart is beating in his throat when she leans in to kiss his collarbone, her lips soft, her hair smelling of smoke and flowers as it always does.

Desire surges inside him, crackling like lightning in his veins, and he sends the bear away, far away. This is a moment he wants for himself: Skin against skin, tongues exploring, hands intertwined. This is no place for fangs and claws, not tonight. Halsin unlaces his trousers with steady fingers, though even those few seconds seem unbearable to him. When his hand finally wraps around his cock, he breathes a sigh of relief, only to feel dissatisfied moments after. He wants her hands, her eyes on him, her voice dripping with lust. For now, his imagination will have to do.

He dreams himself back to the bath, thinking of all he could have had, if he had only had the courage to ask.

Her skin is burning hot against his, her fingers leave a flaming trail wherever she touches him.

“Is this alright, my love?” Her voice is full of concern and affection, as it always is when she asks about his comfort and well-being.

“More than alright.” Halsin’s breaths grow shaky when she moves her hips, shallowly grinding down against him. “Gods, I want to-”

“Mhhm?” There is a curious twinkle in her eye. “What is it you want? Tell me. I’m sure I could make your dreams come true.”

Halsin shifts when the wooden backing of the chair digs into his back as he bucks his hips, fucking into his hand that is wrapped around his cock - a poor substitution for what - for who - he really wants.

A growl rings out in the empty room when he closes his eyes and imagines her again.

Her thighs look so lovely, spread wide so he can fit between them. She smells of the bath salts and of herself, and her voice talks to him through the thick fog of his desire.

“I know what you want, don’t I, bear? I’ll take such good care of you if you let me. I’ll make sure you don’t even have to ask for it. I’ll let you taste me, whenever you want- wherever you want. I’ll help you focus- you can focus on me, can’t you? There you go…”

Halsin is panting, his hand moving faster.

She feels good, so good when she sinks down on him, wet with arousal and so willing to take him.

“You, little flower, are the jewel of nature’s creation,” he mumbles. “You are all I could ever want and more. I want to taste you on my tongue, always- for there to never be a day where I won’t know the way you drip for me- for you to never go a day without being satisfied, without feeling loved and cared for. Your happiness is all I want- your ecstasy all I desire. Let me take care of you.”

She moans, her head falling back as she starts to roll her hips, taking him deeper and deeper with each stroke.

“I’ll take care of you as you do of me,” she whispers. “I’ll make sure to provide for you all you could ever need or want. You give and give, let me give you everything I am in return. Be selfish, bear. Take what you want, swallow me whole, devour me without worrying whether it’s too much. I want you to. Mark me- make me yours. Tell the whole world I belong to you, whichever way you desire.”

Her movements are desperate now, her words only sighs and moans, breathless as she buries her head against his shoulder. Halsin inhales the scent of her hair, sinks into her words as the fog of lust that has settled on his brain grows thicker and heavier, until there is not a thought left on his mind but her.

“Halsin-” Gods, his name sounds so sweet off her tongue. “Halsin, I want you to fill me. Please- please, I want to feel full with you, today and every day you’ll fucking let me. I want to fight knowing you are still dripping down my thighs, I want to kiss you under the stars and know I’ll never be without you again.”

The curses that are falling from his lips are ungodly, but Halsin does not care. He is desperate now, mouth open as he calls her name and thinks of the words he wishes he could hear her say.

“Come for me, bear. Come inside me, lay claim to me as only you ever could- f-fuck- make me yours- please- Halsin, I’m yours, I’m yours and yours and yours, as long as you’ll have me- forever if you want to-”

With a cry of her name on his lips, Halsin gives in to pleasure and lets himself be overtaken by a wave of bliss. His thighs tremble as he spills over his hand, sticky warmth dripping from his fingers. He does not open his eyes. Not yet. He wants to stay in the fantasy just a moment longer.

“Halsin, I-”

His eyes open, blood rushing to his cheeks as he returns to the real world and finds her standing in the doorway.

I'm going fucking feral. Running into the woods hoping to find him there, who's with me -

@purgetrooperfox @ashotofspotchka @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @ulchabhangorm @queen--kenobi @samspenandsword @rescuethewretched @pinkiemme @baba-fett @witchklng @ladykatakuri @certified-anakinfucker @fanfiction-i-llike @voidinfernal @foxferret02 @rosieofcorona @savagemickey03 @perseny @margoisthemoon2 @shiiunn @saucyhedgehog @tonysoffice @pupshr00m @supercalifragilisticprincess @palpipeen @silly-gooseastarion @mila-bee @shit-i-say-throughout-the-day @idkwhatsgoingonwithme @aeryntheofficial @jekasha @gub @nogitsune-the @solarrexplosion @hexqueensupreme @unofficialavenger90 @frankiesghost @curtaincaramba

If you have signed up for my taglist and you are not on this list, I could not tag you. Check your settings and sign up again.

[cntloup]

Mafia!Simon x Bartender!Reader implied rape, the aftermath

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

“Hey, love. You have to eat something. Please. Just a bit. Try for me, yeah?” he says, sitting beside you on the bed where you’re lying, drowned in your thoughts, you can barely make out what he’s saying. 

It's all just a blur, all the sounds and images. The world around you feels all foggy. 

“What?” you ask, shaken out of your trance and you begin to come back by the sound of his voice calling out to you. 

He raises the bowl in his hand and you get the message, “ ‘m not hungry.” you say in a weak voice and turn your back to him. 

“I'll leave it here in case you wanted to eat.” he says, disappointed and heartbroken that you have turned down the food again. 

He reluctantly opens the door and takes a last glance at your form before leaving the room. 

You haven’t eaten properly for days. You have no appetite. And there’s the gnawing nausea at the pit of your stomach that keeps it churning constantly. 

Silent tears cascade down your face as you lay down on the bed for hours, bearing no energy to move a muscle. 

He sits on the couch with a half-empty bottle of whiskey, furious at the monsters who did this to you, frustrated at himself for not knowing what to do, how to help you. 

His heart shatters into pieces as he sees you slowly wither away right before his eyes. 

He's gone through the same horrifying thing long ago and he starts digging in the depths of his mind to find something. Something that would somehow help you. 

And it dawns on him that you just need someone by your side, not someone to jump in and ‘fix’ it, but someone who is there to listen and hold your hand as you process the whole thing and move forward at your own pace. 

He never had someone like that. And it just now occurs to him how much he needed it. So he decides to be that person for you. 

He enters your room once again after a few hours, “Love?”, “Hmm?”, “Do you want to go out? We can get something to eat too.” 

You turn to face him from your lying position, “Yeah, I'd like that.” you respond after thinking for a while. 

“I need to take a shower.” you say as you struggle to get off the bed. He stretches his arms to help you, but stops and looks into your eyes, waiting for your approval. 

You nod and he gently slings an arm around you to help you get on your feet and step into the bathroom. 

He starts to leave the room, but stops when you call him, “Yeah?”, “Can you... can you stay by the door until I finish up in here?” you ask sheepishly, “Yeah. Ok. ‘course, love.” he replies and sits outside by the door, his mind racing a million miles an hour. 

Until you step out of the bathroom, “Thanks, Si!”, “ ‘s no bother, love.” 

He leaves to let you have some privacy and waits for you on the couch to get ready. 

You trudge on down the stairs in your oversized hoodie and baggy pants, “Ready?” he asks, “Yeah.” you say with a faint smile, but it doesn’t go unnoticed by him, the simple gesture making his heart flutter. 

You drive around the city for some time, the cool breeze caressing your skin and the faint sound of music bring a soft smile to your face. 

You stop by your favorite place. Even though you still can barely eat, you try to get some food into your stomach after some coaxing on his part. You know you need nourishment, even the small amount you can stomach right now is better than nothing. 

“Good girl!” he praises after you take a few bites, “I can’t anymore though!” you say, almost ashamed to disappoint him, “It’s ok. I'll tell them to wrap it up for you.” he says with a smile that’s only reserved for you. 

“I’m proud of you, dove.” he utters when you both walk to his doorstep, “Thank you. Couldn't have done it without you.” you say as you stop to face him by the door, a lovely smile dancing on your lips and your eyes glinting again, not as bright as before, but it’s a step nonetheless. 

And you open your arms and step closer to him. He takes you in his arms, nearly shedding tears as he finally embraces you after so long. 

[heart-of-the-morningstar]

✨Falling For You (Again)✨

Angel!Lucifer x f!angel reader ➡️ Lucifer x f!fallen angel reader

Summary: You and Lucifer were the best of friends up in Heaven with eons of history between the two of you. But when the first woman catches his eye, your heart couldn’t help but ache…

Warnings: smut, 18+, fingering, light tail play, oral (f receiving), p in v

It was no secret that you and Lucifer shared a special bond. You two were as close as friends could be. It was a little odd to be fair; a seraphim and a virtue were definitely an unusual pair. Nonetheless, neither of you cared what the rest of Heaven thought of you. You did your best to ignore the rumors that were floating about; saying your bond with Lucifer ran deeper than just a friendship. It wasn't true, of course, and those relationships were heavily discouraged by the Elders. Neither of you would dare consider stirring up trouble...more than you already have, that is.

Separately, the two of you were considered "mischievous" as Sera would say. But together, you created a whirlwind of ideas and spectacles that would land the both of you with serious reprimand more than once. You tried your best to behave, but Lucifer brought out the worst, or perhaps the best, in you. You were the only one who believed in his dreams and his passions, and he was more than encouraging when he asked about your ideas for creation. It was heartbreaking when you learned that he had been left out of the creation of the new world. To you, his ideas were not dangerous as many others believed, but inspired. When Lucifer told you that he wanted to see Earth for himself, you covered for him, as any good friend would do. His visits became more and more frequent, and your lies became less and less believable.

Every time Lucifer returned from Earth, he would go on and on for hours about the wonderful and fantastical things he'd seen. But what he wanted to talk about most was the human woman, Lilith. You had witnessed for yourself how the human man Adam had treated her; demanding control and with no regard for anything but himself. He was selfish, you believed Lilith was right for fleeing the garden. You hoped that the new human woman Eve would fare better. Lucifer had found Lilith and immediately was enraptured with her. You were happy for him. Mostly. There was a small pang in your heart every time he mentioned her, but this was your best friend; you wanted nothing more than for him to be happy! There was also the constant threat that now loomed over him. What would Heaven do if they found out about Lucifer and Lilith? You vowed to keep his secret; you couldn't bear to witness any punishment befall him.

One day, Lucifer came rushing to your room with an idea that could shake Heaven to its very core.

"Free will?" you asked Lucifer. "Are you sure that's a good idea? I mean, the Elders-"

"The Elders are wrong," Lucifer responded curtly. "Humans deserve to have free will. They shouldn't just be puppets on Heaven's strings. It's not right! They should have the right to choose!"

You sighed. "I don't disagree with you, Lucifer. You're right. But...I'm worried. What will happen once they do have it? Once it's given, you can't take it back. And what will happen to you? You have to know there will be consequences if you go through with this and I...I'm..."

Lucifer pulled you into a tight hug, and you instinctively returned the gesture. Holding him felt like one of the greatest gifts you could ever receive. "It'll be alright. No matter what happens to me, I know this is the right thing to do." He pulled away from you and smiled, holding your hands delicately. "You are a wonderful friend, and a true reflection of what Heaven should be. I don't want you to worry anymore. I can't get in any worse trouble than I've already been in before, right?" he laughed.

His golden eyes shined brightly; you loved the way he lit up when he told you about his dreams. You finally smiled back at him. "Thank you, Lucifer. I trust you completely. When will you return to Earth?"

"Tomorrow," he responded. "Lilith and I will meet with Eve. She seems like she would be more receptive to the idea than Adam. Perhaps she could convince him afterwards!" With a wave of his hand, a shiny, glowing red apple appeared in his palm. "This is my gift to humanity. It's the least I can provide."

You leaned in and planted a tiny peck to his pale cheek. "Please be careful," you whispered.

A light golden blush dashed across his cheeks. "O-Of course." He turned around slowly, opening the door and was about to leave when he turned back to look at you. "I'll be back tomorrow after it's done. Don't miss me too much!" With that, Lucifer walked out, leaving you alone in your room once more.

You couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of dread.

****

“GUILTY!” All of the courtroom angles shouted in unison.

"SERA, PLEASE DON'T DO THIS!" you cried out, your arms and body being restrained by archangels.

Lucifer had succeeded, he had given the fruit of knowledge to Eve. But everything had shattered. Her acceptance of free will had caused darkness to enter the world. Evil now had free reign on Earth. And the ones responsible were about to face the consequences. Lucifer and Lilith were surrounded by Heaven’s forces in the courtroom, spears encircling them, backed into a corner with no hope of fleeing.

"Keep her away," Sera ordered the guards from her pedestal, refusing to turn in your direction. "Lucifer. Lilith. Your reckless act of providing free will to humans has caused creation's downfall. You will both be punished for your transgressions."

You watched as Lucifer shielded Lilith with his magnificent wings with little regard for his own well-being. "S-Sera, please listen to me!" he pleaded. "This isn't what I wanted! Lilith had nothing to do with this, this was my fault! I-I only tried to-"

"SILENCE!" Sera's voice boomed. "As far as Heaven is concerned, you are both responsible. As punishment, you will be sent down into the dark pit you have created. You will never again step foot in Heaven, forever separated from this holy place. The humans who abuse your gift will join you after their death, sharing in your fate. You WILL understand the gravity of your misdeed."

You couldn't handle hearing another word. You mustered all of your strength and were able to break free of the guards' hold on you. You flew as fast as you could, now standing between the doomed lovers and the angelic spears.

"Sera, you can't let them do this!" you begged. "Lucifer only wanted what was best for humanity!"

"And look what his gift has brought," Sera remarked. "He was warned, and you would be wise to move aside."

"If you cast them out, you'll have to cast me out too!" you challenged, barring your teeth, your angelic eyes peering out from your hair. Tears ran down your cheeks at the thought of never seeing your home again. But you were prepared to make that sacrifice.

Sera's eyes narrowed at your words. "What did you know of this?"

"NOTHING!" Lucifer shouted. His hand found its way to your shoulder and managed to push you behind him where Lilith stood trembling. "She didn't know anything! She's only trying to protect me!"

"Lucifer! You can't-" you tried to protest, but you felt a hand cover your mouth. You peered over to Lilith who shook her head solemnly.

"I didn't tell her what I was planning to do," Lucifer continued. "She had nothing to do with this. Please, spare her..."

Sera sighed and soared down to meet the three of you. The spears were lifted away from you, the gaudy splitting to make way for the high seraphim. "Consider this a final act of grace." Her gaze made her way towards your glassy eyes. "I'm sorry, but this is the way it has to be. We will discuss this later." Sera had vanished in a flash and a new portal had suddenly appeared behind you. You peered behind you, seeing nothing but a red barren landscape that struck fear in your heart.

You were petrified. You didn't know what would become of your friend or Lilith, but you knew you were powerless to stop it. Your body gave up, falling to your knees with a thud. Your head sank and you began to weep.

"I'm sorry Lucifer, I'm so sorry," your hoarse voice barely carrying.

"Don't you dare apologize," your friend responded, kneeling down next to you. "This was not your doing."

"B-But..."

"Lilith and I will be alright." You knew he was lying. You shook your head in response. "You have to remain in Heaven. They need you here. And so do I." You raised you head, at least meeting Lucifer's pleading eyes. "I will miss you, my dear friend. Please forgive me." You felt the pull of the portal begin to force all of you towards its bleak destination. The guards’ angelic spears were once again at your throats. There was no escape. Lucifer hugged you tight, only for him to pull you up suddenly and push you away from the portal with a hard shove. You weren’t able to find your balance and found yourself back on the courtroom floor. “Go! Now!” he yelled out to you before disappearing into the abyss.

All you could hear was their screams as they fell.

****

Days turned into month, months turned into years, years turned into decades, and decades turned into centuries. Not a day passed when you didn’t think about him. It took a few millennia before you stopped crying every day. Even the thought of mentioning his name caused your anguish. But now, you were numb. You went about your duties as instructed, but your will to dream and create had all but vanished. It wasn’t the same without him there. And now you were a perfect virtue, always did as she was told, never straying, and never questioning. You were broken. Even more so when you had mistakenly learned about the extermination of demons led by Adam and his soldiers.

No one was allowed to know, not even Emily, who had become the closest thing to a friend you’ve had since Lucifer’s fall. She was the one who helped you through your darkest moments. Her pure joy was enough to pull you out of your deepest pits of despair. For a little while at least. Your sadness never truly left you. It was like a black hole that could never be filled and could never truly be satisfied.

Your heart sank from the devastating revelation. You knew deep down that this was wrong; the slaughter of souls that were already doomed for eternity. They didn’t deserve that fate. But there was nothing you could do. What could you do? So, you stayed silent.

That is until one day, you learned of the arrival of Princess Morningstar's arrival to heaven.

You had known Lucifer had a child with Lilith, Charlotte. There was a great panic in Heaven, concerned over what a child of Lucifer could mean for both of the unearthly realms. But the last two hundred or so years had brought nothing. Until today. You had seen her walking alongside Sera and Emily on the promenade, as well as another person who looked awfully familiar to you, but you couldn't quite place where you'd seen her before. It was odd considering you had never met a sinner before. You wanted to follow them but had caught Adam and Lute discussing the demonic pair amongst themselves and thought it best to avoid fanning the flames of an already tense situation. After waiting some time and asking around, you learned the princess was visiting the zoo. You'd flown there as fast as your wings could carry you. After circling the enclosures, you spotted the princess gawking at one of the koalas that had fallen asleep in its tree. Luckily, you didn't see any signs of anybody else around her. Silently, you landed behind her, now realizing you hadn't thought about what to say. You sucked in a breath and took one step closer.

"Charlotte Morningstar?" you practically whispered. The princess turned her head cautiously at the sound of her name. "I'm sorry to bother you but-"

"Oh, hi there!" she beamed at you, using both of her hands to shake one of yours, your body jerking slightly with each motion. "And you can call me Charlie!"

"Charlie," you repeated. You took your time studying the princess in front of you. Her golden hair and pale face with rosy cheeks stuck out to you the most, as well as her genuine and unadulterated smile. She truly a reflection of her father. "You look...so much like him."

"My dad?" she questioned. "Yeah, I get that a lot!"

You shook you head, finally breaking eye contact and letting go of her hands. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stare. Your father and I, we...we were really close when he was here. He was my best friend. I was there the day he..." you couldn't find it in you to finish your sentence. "I tried my best to help, to save him. But he saved me instead. I should have been cast out with him." Your voice drifted off. You could feel tears began to prick your eyes. "This was a mistake, I shouldn't have come, I should go-"

"Wait!" You felt a hard tug on your wrist as you tried to step away. "Please don't leave! I'm sorry if I upset you in any way!"

The utter compassion and sincerity in her voice felt like a stake to the heart. You fell to your knees, not being able to hold back the tears any longer. Charlie kneeled next to you, wrapping you in a tight embrace. This felt all too familiar. "I'm s-so sorry. This...this isn't your burden to bear."

"It's alright," Charlie soothed, "it's okay to cry. To feel sad. Your feelings are nothing to be ashamed of." She unwrapped her arms from around you and placed them on your shoulders, now lifting your head to see her empathetic stare. "My dad...he never really talked about his life here in Heaven. I imagine it's painful for him to think about, just like it is for you." Charlie swiped her thumb across your cheek to catch a tear that had fallen. "But I'm happy to know that he had a friend like you who cares about him as much as you do. I'm more than glad to have met you, so now we can be friends too! That is, if you want that."

A small smile spread on your face as you reached out to return her hug. "Yes," you replied, "I'd like that, Charlie. More than you know. You really are your father's daughter. Sweet, and kind, and caring." You felt Charlie's arms around you once more, the tears at last beginning to dry. You pulled away and cleaned the rest of your face with your sleeve. "If I can ask, why are you here? Not the zoo, but, in Heaven, I mean."

"Oh! Yes!," Charlie shot up straight, offering her hand out to help you up as well. "My dad got me a meeting with Sera! I'm running a hotel in Hell right now in order to rehabilitate sinners! I want to convince them that redemption is possible so that they can have a long fulfilling afterlife here!"

"Redemption..." you pondered aloud. "Do you think it's possible?"

"IIIIIIIIIIIIII don't know," Charlie admitted. "We haven't really had a successful case...yet! But I'm hopeful! We have a few patrons already who are making great progress! I'm presenting my case to Sera and the council soon, and I'm hoping I can persuade them!"

Charlie had just given you much to process. The idea of redeeming sinners had not once crossed your mind. It almost seemed too big of a dream, and knowing Heaven's attitude towards the demons in Hell, you were weary of how Sera and the rest of the court would react to such a proposal despite Charlie's seemingly boundless optimism. Another well intentioned idea from a starry-eyed dreamer shot down and ridiculed by Heaven; the parallels were impossible to ignore.

"Charlie, no matter what, know you have an ally in me," you told her. "Whether or not Sera and the others choose to listen, I believe in you, as I believed in your father all those years ago. I know for a fact Emily will listen to you. You remind me of her, she's a good soul."

"Thank you," Charlie smiled. Suddenly, an alarm sounded from Charlie's pocket. "Oh geez, the meeting! I have to go!" Charlie gave you one last quick hug before she darted off towards Heaven's courtroom, waving to you as she ran. "I'll see you later! Oh! And I'll tell my dad I had the chance to meet you!" she called out! You tried to wave back, but she didn't see you as she sprinted away.

That was the last time you saw the princess of Hell.

****

It's been a month since your conversation with Charlie and with each passing day, your anger had risen. Emily had told you that Sera had ignored Charlie's proposal, that she now knew about the exterminations that have been taking place, and how Adam had threatened to attack her and the hotel as he forced her out of the courtroom and back to Hell. In turn, you had told Emily about your brief conversation with the princess on the same day. Thankfully, the two of you were on the same page and decided that you were going to fight for Charlie. You had asked Emily if she could make arrangements to meet with Sera privately to discuss the matter. Of course, the only time Sera agreed to meet was the same day as the extermination. You spent so much of the day collecting your thoughts and practicing your speech that you didn't realize you were running late for the meeting. You flew across the city, barging through the front doors and making your way up to Sera's office in the blink of an eye. You swung open the doors in a panic.

"I'm sorry I'm late Sera, I was-" you began to apologize until you realized that the was their attention was not on you. You turned your head and noticed another angel in the room. He was slender, tall, and was wearing an incredibly unique hat. It was easy to tell by the look on his face that he was confused and a bit startled by your sudden entrance. Perhaps he was a new soul, but he didn't look like a soul you've ever seen.

"Oh, hello to you assss well," the new angel greeted you with his unique accent, his forked tongue slipping between his teeth.

Before you could respond, Emily shrieked stood up excitedly, rushing over to greet him. “Hi there! I’m Emily! Or you can call me Em or Emmy! It doesn’t matter, I’m fine with whatever! Welcome to Heaven!”

You looked over at Sera who had not moved since you entered the room. Her face was a strange mix of horrified and uncertain. Sera remained motionless as Emily refused to contain her unbridled joy.

“I recognize you!” she exclaimed. “You were the one in the club with your friends in Hell!”

“Wait, in Hell?” you chimed in. “How do you…”

Emily flew over to you suddenly, pulling your body closer to the stranger. “He was one of the residents of Charlie’s hotel! We saw him while she was pleading her case to the court!”

“Emily, wait,” Sera finally spoke up, but Emily ignored her. And so did you.

“What’s your name?,” you asked him.

The angel smiled and bowed before you. “I am Sir Pentiousss, a pleasure to meet you!” He straightened back up, looking around the room curiously. “I’m terribly sssorry to ask, but where am I? I don’t recall how I came to be here. I was in my airship, ready to take on that dastardly angel, the one with that obnoxiousss guitar. And in a sudden flash of light, I was here!” His eyes grew into saucers, gripping onto his hat. “My friendsss! I have to get back to them, they’re in danger!”

You watched as he slithered back and forth across the room, mumbling to himself when it all hit you at once. This soul was a sinner. He was in Hell. And he was someone who was staying at Charlie’s hotel. The one meant to save lost souls.

“You were redeemed,” you finally spoke.

"What?!" the three angels asked in unison.

"Emily, don't you see?" you asked, reaching down to grab her hands. "This was Charlie's plan all along!" You turned to look at the redeemed soul. "Sir Pentious, I think you may have been killed."

"But I wasss already dead, my dear," he responded.

"Yes, but only souls who have passed on can face divine judgement," you explained. "Whatever you had done must have sent you here!"

You and Emily looked at each other and smiled, now hovering in the air. “He was a sinner!” Emily belted. “But now he’s here! He’s here in Heaven! Charlie’s hotel works! She was-”

“That's enough!” Sera cut in unexpectedly. You and Emily frowned; your feet placed firmly on the ground again. "You two need to leave, now. I will handle this matter."

"But Sera-" Emily tried to reason.

"Please do not question me, Emily," Sera warned, "remember what I had told you."

Emily hung her head and sighed, starting to make her way towards the door, still holding onto your hand. but you refused to budge when she had tugged on your arm.

"No," you replied sternly through your gritted teeth.

Sera narrowed her eyes at your defiance. "I'm not asking. It would be in your best interest to do as your told. You were already pardoned once before. Don't make this worse than it has to be."

You took to the air and were now at eye level with the high seraphim, a righteous anger surging through you. "I'm done listening to you," you spat. "I should have been cast down with Lucifer that day. He told me everything, I knew what he had planned. He protected me and not a day goes by where I don't regret not staying by his side. I did nothing to stop him because I knew he was right in giving humans free will. And now I can see Charlie was right in her quest to redeem souls. You were wrong back then, Sera, and you're wrong now!"

Sera's angelic eyes appeared; her anger peaked to its boiling point. "Emily, take the new soul and leave immediately."

Not wanting to anger her further, Emily took ahold of Sir Pentious's hand and rushed him towards the door. You caught a glimpse of her teary expression as she looked back at you. I'll be okay, you mouthed to her, but you knew it was a lie. When the door finally closed, you glared back at Sera with a fiery intensity that you never knew you were capable of.

"You know the punishment for an act of defiance," Sera spoke sternly.

"I should have fallen eons ago," you retorted, holding back you sobs. "Do it, Sera, cast me to the pits of Hell!"

"So be it."

****

You don’t know how long you were lying there in the crater you created all you knew is that you were in a tremendous amount of pain. Your eyes fluttered open, now feeling the rocky heard ground beneath you. Languidly, you tried to pull yourself up, your arms shaking under your weight. But it was no use, your strength had left you and you fell back to the floor with a thud. You fought to keep your eyes open, doing anything to stay conscious. Feeling a strange stickiness on your face, you reached up to touch it, only to pull your hand back to see your golden angelic blood leaking from an open gash.

But beneath that blood was something that made your heart stop completely. Your hands had turned a charcoal black with razor sharp claws jutting out of each fingertip. The color ran all the way up your forearm, stopping just past your elbow. It was as if you had been held over a raging fire.

"What in the...OW!" you tried to say, but you felt a sharp pain on your tongue. Tentatively, you pressed a finger to your mouth only to pull away instantly. Your teeth, once perfect and smooth, had now all been replaced by razor sharp fangs. Your brain was working overtime, trying desperately to comprehend these drastic changes to your new form. But another problem was on the horizon.

In the distance, you heard distant chatter, but it was growing louder and louder by the second. With what little strength you had, you lifted your head to see a group and black-eyed demons headed directly towards you.

“Help, please…” you called out weakly, your voice barely a whisper.

In no time, the demons encircled your near lifeless body. A pit grew in your stomach as you noticed their glistening teeth and ravenous smiles.

“Fresh meat!” you heard one of them declare.

“Bet she tastes heavenly,” you heard another say.

Tears began to prick your eyes, knowing full well you couldn’t fight these demons off. You closed your eyes and awaited your fate when you heard another voice call out to the hungry cannibals.

“What’s all this commotion about now?” you heard a voice say. Your eyes shot open to see a tall woman dressed as if she was from the prohibition era standing right above you. She kneeled down before you, placing a hand under your chin. “Well, well, well, what do we have here? An angel,” she sang out, “but you’re different, ain’t ya? You’re not one of them exorcists.”

“Please,” you choked out, “…need to find the princess. Charlie…have to tell her…she was right…”

Everything went black.

You awoke sometime later, now finding yourself lying on a sofa in a lavish pink room. Your head was pounding, you reached your hand up to your forehead. But instead of skin, you felt something else. You realized then that someone had wrapped gauze around your wound. But who?

“Ahh, good! You’re finally awake!,” a familiar voice rang out. “You really had quite the fall, huh dearie?”

You sat up slowly, feeling every ache and pain from before. You turned to the woman who had been sitting across the room sipping some tea from for porcelain cup. She gave you a sharp smile, sending a shiver down your spine.

“W-Who are you?,” you asked nervously. “And where am I?”

“How forward of ya,” the woman shot back, “I like it! Name’s Rosie, a pleasure to meet ya, darlin’. And right now, you’re in cannibal town! You’re lucky I was there when the townsfolk found ya, could have been a real blood bath, let me tell ya!”

You gulped, realizing that you were almost killed, and you had just arrived in Hell. “I’m sorry, t-thank you,” you stuttered. "But...why did you save me?"

���Oh, don’t worry about it, sweetheart, it’s water under the bridge!” Rosie assured. She stood up and made her way over, sitting on the couch next to you. “And let's just say I have a hunch. There's something about ya but I can't place my finger on it just yet. Now, what’s an angel like you doing all the way down here?”

“I…I disobeyed Heaven’s orders,” you answered. “I told them that they were wrong, and I dared them to cast me out. And they made good on their promise.”

Rosie smiled and wrapped her arm around your shoulders, pulling you incredibly close to her. “I knew I liked ya! That’s some real moxie ya got! Defying Heaven takes guts! You and the princess got a lot in common it seems.”

“Charlie!” you nearly shouted, pulling away from Rosie and standing up a little too fast. Dizziness hit you instantly and you shut your eyes, attempting to regain some balance. “I have to find Charlie! Do you know where she is?”

“Sure do!” Rosie beamed. “She and her father are over there at their new ritzy hotel they just finished buildin’. It’s just on the outside of the city, ya can’t miss it! That old one crumbled faster than a tower of cards in a hurricane!”

“Her father is there?” you asked, unable to hide the flush on your face.

“Oh, I’d know that look anywhere,” Rosie smirked. “Someone is really smitten for the king, am I right?”

“N-No!” you pushed back. “That’s…that’s not it at all! I-I…”

“Come now, dearie! Ol’ Rosie here is an expert in the romance department! Sit back down and tell me all about it!” She patted the cushion next to her, inviting you back next to her. With a defeated sigh, you took a seat next to the cannibal overlord. “Now, what’s your relationship with the big boss of Hell? I’m dying to know!”

You sucked in a deep breath. “I knew him before, you know, the creation of this place.”

Rosie raised an eyebrow. “Just knew him?”

You shook your head. “No. He was…he was my closest friend. He saved me the day he fell. And not a day has gone by where I haven’t missed him.” You wrapped your arms around yourself at you vulnerability in front of this demon who’d you only just met. “But it doesn’t matter, Rosie. He’s with Lilith and I’d never think of coming between them.”

“Oh, sweet pea, don’t you know?” Rosie asked curiously. “Well, I guess maybe ya wouldn’t. But him and the Queen called it quits a few years ago.”

“What?!” you looked at her in shock.

“Yeah! I don’t know all the details, but trust me, I’m always on top of the hot gossip ‘round here,” she winked. “But he’s a free man, that’s what’s important here! I want ya to shoot your shot!”

The flood of this new revelation made your head spin. The way Lucifer used to talk about Lilith made it seem like they were fated to be together forever, like nothing could ever separate them. You found yourself standing up and pacing the floor back and forth, trying to decide your next move.

“I appreciate the encouragement, Rosie, I really do, but…” you hesitated before speaking again, “my main focus is finding Charlie and telling her what I know. She deserves that much. Everything else can come later.”

Rosie gave you a soft smile. “Strong morals, but I shouldn’t expect anything less from an angel! Good on ya, darlin’.” The cannibal overlord stood up with you and took your hands in hers. “Buuuutttt since you’re likely gonna see the king anyway, how’s about we find ya some new clothes, hmm? The ones you have now are just a bit tattered.”

It was then you realized you never thought to check the robe you had been wearing. Rosie was right, of course. Your robes looked like it had been torn to shreds, countless holes littering the fabric.

“Oh…” was all you could say.

“Don’t you worry,” Rosie reassured, “I have just the thing for ya!”

In a flash, Rosie had returned with a knee length red dress with black lacy patters and some classy black flats for your bare feet. You were a little nervous, never once changing out of your normal robe attire. It would definitely show off more of your body than you ever have before. Rosie led you to a private room to change into your new outfit. But once you removed your all but ruined robe, you noticed even more changes. Your legs now matched your arms, blackened, and burnt to just above your knees where it faded into your familiar pale gray skin. You frowned at the sight, but decided to focus on changing instead, knowing you would have plenty of time later to reflect on your new and somewhat startling appearance. You found Rosie again who began to clap in utter excitement!

“Oh, it’s perfect!” Rosie complimented, “aren’t you just a looker! I knew that dress would go great with your eyes!”

You stared back at her in confusion. “My eyes?”

“Go see for yourself!” Rosie said, pointing over to the tall mirror in the corner of her room.

You shuffled over and stood in front of it, only to jump back in surprise when you saw a pair of two blood red eyes glaring back at you. After the initial shock, you hesitantly took a step closer. You noticed your once pink irises had turned pale white with your pitch-black pupils now slit like a serpent’s. You felt tears beginning to fill your new demonic eyes.

“Oh, sweetheart, don’t cry,” Rosie soothed as she walked over, placing her clawed hand on your shoulder. “Ya might just be the prettiest thing in Hell!”

“I look like a monster!” you bawled, wrapping yourself in your arms.

Rosie turned you away from the mirror and gently brushed a tear that had fallen on your cheek. “Ya know what I think?,” Rosie asked. “I think that’s the Heaven in ya talkin’. Sure, ya might look a little different, but honey, I've met my fair share of monsters and trust me, you ain't one of them. Now c'mon, no more waterworks, okay?" With a shaky breath, you nodded and wiped away the rest of your tears. "There ya go! Now, you better get goin'! I'm sure your prince charmin' would be over the moon if he saw ya!"

"Rosie!" you squeaked out, your face now feeling incredibly hot. "Umm, t-thank you, for everything."

"Oh, don't mention it! Any friend of Charlie's is a friend of mine!" She escorted you to a back door so as to not draw attention and to keep you away from the potential dangers emitting from the ravenous residents. "You just come back anytime you need somethin', okay hon? I'm rootin' for ya!"

With a final smile and nod, you summoned your wings and took to the crimson sky. But it didn't take long for you to notice that your wings had changed too. At this point, you weren't surprised anymore. The light pink coloring of your wings had darkened to a deep maroon. You sighed heavily, silently praying that this would be the last change your new body surprised you with. After gaining enough height in the air, you noticed a brightly lit tower just on the edge of the city, just where Rosie said it would be. You flew there as fast as your wings could carry you. You fought past the lingering pain and soreness you still felt coursing through your body to now hover over the illuminating structure.

Despite the grandness of the hotel, it seemed a little too quiet for comfort. Your eyes scanned the surrounding area for any signs of life but there were none to be found. But with your cursory glance, a familiar shape had caught your attention. On one side of the building was a large structure covered in yellow tinted glass in the shape of what appeared to be an apple. Even after all these years, you could never forget that fateful day when you were shown the gift that would set everything into motion. You knew what that symbol was, and you knew who it was made to represent. Without realizing, you had drifted closer and closer to the symbol of destruction. With a hard gulp, you pressed your face to the glass and peered inside, not knowing whether or not you wanted to find what, or who, you were looking for. It was a lavish bedroom to be sure, covered in various reds and golds with a way too large bed to complete the look. To your relief and disappointment, it appeared that the room was empty. You sighed and were about to turn around when all of a sudden, you noticed a small reflection in the glass. Someone was behind you.

"You know, it's pretty rude to spy on people," the familiar voice chastised. You froze in the air completely, knowing exactly who had snuck up on you. "Not sure what you were thinking coming back here, really not the brightest idea if you ask me. I thought I told you and your friends to go-" you spun around, tears flowing from your eyes. Lucifer's frustrated expression softened immediately. "-home...".

You fought through your tears as you tried to speak, trying desperately to control them. "Lucifer?" you finally managed to choke out. He was different. His eyes were now a pale yellow and his pure white wings now ruby red. His teeth and hands reflected your own. Yes, he was different, but it was him. It was your best friend.

"No...No, it can't be..." he murmured to himself. You found yourself unable to move while Lucifer flew closer and closer to you until he was inches away. Your breath hitched when his hand found its way to your cheek, wiping away the nonstop tears. "Is it really you?"

"Yes, it's me," you breathed.

Lucifer's eyes welled up immediately at your confirmation. A small squeak escaped your lips when he suddenly had both of his arms around you, holding you as close to him as possible in a tight embrace. You smiled and returned the gesture, unable to stop yourself from sobbing into the crook of his neck. You two hung in the air for a few minutes, somehow laughing and crying at the same time before either of you pulled apart. But Lucifer's smile faded all too quickly once he began to rake his eyes over your new form.

"No, no, no, no, no, God, please no!" Lucifer pleaded. "Please...please don't tell me you..." You looked away from him, ashamed to admit what had happened. But your silence was all the answer he needed. "No..." he whispered. "No, this isn't right! You shouldn't be here! You don't belong down here! How could Sera do this?! I swear I'm going to..."

"Lucifer!" you snapped, grabbing ahold of his hands. "It's going to be alright. Please don't do anything rash."

Lucifer anxiously squeezed your hands. "But...But this isn't-I mean, you..." His words failed him, lowering his head in defeat. "I've missed you...so much..."

You lifted his head up and pressed a soft kiss to Lucifer's cheek, noticing a soft blush on his cheeks as you pulled away. "I missed you too, more than I can possibly describe. But this was meant to be. I told Sera to cast me here."

Lucifer stared at you with his mouth agape. "What?! Why?!"

"It was the only way I could help," you answered. "There's something I need to tell Charlie. Something happened that could change the fate of everything. And I’ve chosen my side. I chose it a long time ago.”

Lucifer remained somber, unable to process the new reality he found himself in. “I never should have involved you with my plan for Eden. You’re here because of me whether you believe that or not. I’d despise me if I were you.” Lucifer pulled away from you, making his way up to the roof of his roof, sitting down and pulling his legs to his chest only to bury his head into them.

You frowned, following closely behind. “I could never,” you replied quietly, taking your place next to him. “My fall was not your fault.”

“Yes, it is,” Lucifer shot back. “You wouldn’t have fallen if there was no Hell to begin with! Everyone down here abused the gift that I gave them and now they’re damned for all eternity! What a gift free will turned out to be…” Lucifer hid himself underneath his enormous wings, cocooning himself away from your gaze.

Tentatively, your hand stretched out to comb through his scarlet feathers until you could see him again. "Lucifer, please look at me." He sighed and turned his head slightly. "I told you I believed in you all those years ago, and I still do. Nothing has changed. And it's not as hopeless as you make it out to be. Lucifer, Charlie's hotel works. A soul in Hell was redeemed."

Lucifer's head snapped up in an instant, his wings disappearing immediately. "Wait, wait, wait, hold on!" he nearly shouted, gripping onto your shoulders. "Are you sure? I mean, are you absolutely sure? N-Not that I don't believe you but...do you know the soul's name?"

You nodded. "He said his name was Sir Pentious. Emily said that he was a resident here and-"

"Sera was there, wasn't she?" Lucifer interjected. You nodded again. "You stood up for him, didn't you? You tried to protect him...just like you tried to protect me when..." his voice trailed off. It was at this moment you realized how close his face had gotten to yours.

"Y-Yes," you responded shakily, your voice betraying your calm demeanor. This didn't go unnoticed by Lucifer, however. He swallowed hard.

"I-I..." he stammered. "I never got to thank you for that day. You put yourself in harm's way and I'll never forgive myself for forcing you into that situation."

"But you didn't-" you tried to say, but Lucifer had put a finger up to your lips. Your heart was racing at a million beats per minutes at this point and you knew Lucifer could tell. Your face had never felt hotter.

"I'm never going to allow you to blame yourself for any of this." Lucifer dropped his hand away from your lips, but you remained silent, as if your voice had suddenly vanished. "You were-are-my closest friend and...and I..." Lucifer's voice gave up as well, leaning in closer and closer, watching as his eyelids fell with every movement.

"Lucifer..." you breathed, not realizing your upper body gravitating towards him as well. Your eyelids fell shut.

"Dad? Dad, are you out here?", you heard a faint voice call out below. Both of you froze, feeling his hot breath on your parted lips. After a few seconds, you opened your eyes and shot up straight, refusing to look at your friend.

"W-We should go," you finally managed to say. "Charlie needs to know what's happened." But before Lucifer could respond, you leaped off of the building, vanishing from his sight.

"Huh..." Lucifer huffed out. It wasn't long before he dove after you.

There was definitely a conversation to be had later.

Despite leaving first, Lucifer passed you easily, giving you a small wink on the way down. It didn't really seem fair; his six wings gave him a much larger advantage when it came to speed compared to your two. He landed gracefully in front of the hotel while you followed close behind.

"Oh dad, there you are!" Charlie beamed, "I was-" she paused as she saw you land. "Oh, hello again!" the princess greeted as she ran over to embrace you. "It's so nice to see you! I-wait...how...how did you get here?"

You sighed deeply. "Charlie, there's something you need to know."

Charlie pulled away; a bit confused by your words. But after she took a closer look at you, her usual smiling face had shifted into one of sadness. "Oh, oh no...did Heaven...?" You nodded. "Oh gosh, I'm so sorry! Are you alright? Are you hurt? Do you need anything? I don't know what we have in term of medical supplies but I'm sure we can find something! Just wait right here, I'll..."

"Charlie, dear, hold on," Lucifer gently reached out to grab her wrist.

"I'm alright, Charlie," you reassured her. "I'm still sore in some places but I'll recover. But listen, you need to know this. It's the reason I'm down here, Heaven didn't appreciate what I had to say."

"What is it?" she asked nervously.

"Sir Pentious, he made to Heaven," you smiled. "Your hotel works."

"You were right, kiddo," Lucifer added. Charlie stood there motionless with a vacant expression. You and Lucifer looked at each other with a bit of concern. "Charlie, sweetie, are you alright?"

She began to sob uncontrollably. "P-Pentious is okay?..." she squeaked out. "I-I thought..."

You and Lucifer embraced Charlie as she bawled. "It's alright," you comforted, "he's alright. You did it, Charlie! Heaven won't be able to dismiss you anymore." You and Lucifer exchanged a weary look unbeknownst to Charlie. While that may be the truth, there's no telling how Heaven may respond now. And considering where you were at the moment, it wasn't looking good.

Charlie sniffled some more before calming down enough to be able to breathe normally again. "I have to tell everyone! I'll call a meeting right now. No, wait!" She turned to you and grab your hands enthusiastically. "Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you! I owe you so much! Anything you need is yours; you just ask! Let's start by getting you a room here; you're a part of our family now! Come on, I have the perfect-"

"Wait, Charlie!" her father called after her. "Would you mind if we caught up with you later? She and I, uhh, have some things to discuss first, if that's alright." You shot Lucifer a nervous glance, but he pretended not to notice.

"Oh, yeah, of course!" his daughter chirped. "I'm sure you guys have a ton to catch up on! I'll see you guys at dinner!" With that, Charlie sprinted towards the front entrance, calling out to the woman who had been standing in the doorway. You recognized her as the one who was with Charlie that day in heaven. You smiled as you watched the princess lift her up to twirl her around. You were so busy watching them that you didn't realize a portal had been summoned behind you. With a slight tug, Lucifer gently grabbed your hand and walked you through it. It took you only a moment to realize he had taken you back to the bedroom that you were spying on only a few minutes ago. Lucifer let go of your hand and took a seat on the edge of his bed, hanging his head low.

"So..." Lucifer sighed.

"So..." you repeated.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he began, "I shouldn't have..."

"Oh..." your heart sank as he spoke. "It-It's fine, Lucifer, you d-don't..." You couldn't stop the tears that began to form in your eyes.

Lucifer looked up at you suddenly in a panic as you tried to muffle your quiet sobs. "Oh, God! No, no, no, I didn't mean it like that!" He stood up rapidly and wiped away the tears that had started to fall. "I'm such an idiot, I should have phrased that better!" You took a few deep breaths, allowing him to try and explain. "It's not that I didn't want to...umm...b-but I do! I very much do! I just-damn it, why am I so bad at this?!"

Your tears stopped as you listened to your friend. But it only took you a moment to realize why he had apologized in the first place.

"It's Lilith, isn't it?" you asked softly."

Lucifer looked at you surprised. "Yes. And no. It's...complicated. She and I..."

"I know," you whispered.

"Wait, you know?" he questioned, "How?"

You turned and took a few steps back from him. "I didn't exactly fall from Heaven in this outfit. Someone kind helped me, and they told me about..." you cut yourself short, not wanting to upset him further.

Lucifer let out a sign of relief, clutching his chest. "Oh, thank Heaven! I mean, uhh, you know what, never mind. I'm just relieved! I was panicking for the last few minutes because I thought you were still under the impression that I was taken!"

You smiled, crossing your arms over your chest. "You still have such a way with words, don't you?"

"Some things never change," he joked, rubbing the back of his neck. "But now I'm curious. How exactly did I become a topic of conversation with this 'friend' of yours?"

Your face burned at the question, and you turned to look out the window at the blood red sky. "I don't think we need to talk about it," you dismissed.

"Oh, I think we absolutely do!" he challenged. Your eyes focused on his reflection in the window. He'd gotten much closer than he was before.

"It's nothing, really!" you responded as you turned around to finally face him. "I asked where I could find Charlie and my friend told me that you and her were both at the hotel and...I told her-"

"That you wanted to kiss your best friend?" Lucifer smirked as he finished the sentence for you."

"Gah!" you through your hands up in embarrassment and made your way away from the window and back over to the bed. "You're the worst, you know that? No, I didn't say that! She just...took a guess..."

Lucifer had followed you over to where you were standing. "And did you deny it?" You looked down at the ground, wrapping yourself in your arms. "Thought so. Because if memory serves, you leaned in to kiss me."

"You leaned in first!" you snapped back.

"Aha! So, you admit it! You did lean in!" Lucifer shouted triumphantly.

"Fine!" you yelled back in defeat, "So what if I did?"

Your question hung in the air as the room feel silent. That was until Lucifer moved towards you, each step emitting a nearly inaudible echo. He brought his hands up to cup your face, caressing your cheeks with his thumbs. Your breath hitched as you stared into his alluring eyes. "Well, if that’s the case," he murmured as his head tilted closer, pressing his forehead to yours "you wouldn’t mind if I leaned into you like this again, would you?"

Your eyes fluttered shut in an instant with your hands now wrapped around his neck, giving into his temptations at last. Your lips finally connected as you melted into his touch. His lips were soft, and gentle, just like you always imagined they would be. Lucifer moved one hand to your waist, pulling you flush against chest while the other snaked around to the back of your head, holding your face as close to his as he possibly could. You pulled away for a moment to catch your breath but felt an odd tingling sensation in your lower back. Without warning, your felt something spring out from behind, squeaking in surprise. It wrapped itself around yourself and Lucifer, pulling you together at your waists as if it had a mind of its own.

"W-Wow, that's certainly a reaction to a single kiss. I must say, it's quite bold of you, darling," Lucifer laughed.

As much as you wanted to call out his use of pet names, your focus had gone to your brand now appendage you saw poking out behind you. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me!" you groaned. "A tail? Seriously?!" You looked back at Lucifer mouth agape. "I-I'm sorry! I-I promise I didn't do that on purpose! I didn't even know I had-" Lucifer silenced your panicked apology with a quick peck on the lips.

"I promise I'm only teasing," Lucifer smiled. "And don't worry, you'll get used to it. It only tends to appear when you summon it or if you're feeling…intense emotions.” He cleared his throat. “But it might take a while to get full control.”

You raised an eyebrow. "You say that like you have personal experience." Lucifer's eyes wandered away from yours. "Oh..." You were able to will your tail enough to release its grip on the both of you. “Can you show me?”

“Very bold…” Lucifer gave you a small smirk. "Are you sure that's the only thing you want me to show you?" he chuckled, poking his tongue out between his sharp teeth. Your brain took a second to process his words as you became a bit distracted by his forked muscle.

"Lucifer!" You shook your head and pushed away from him, feeling your tail once again take control and wrap itself around your leg. You could feel your cheeks burning at the thought of his implications. “I swear, I will walk out that door right now!”

“Kidding!” Lucifer threw up his hands in defense. “I’m sorry, that was mean of me. I know you’re nervous. And to be completely honest, I am too. I know I’m coming off like I know exactly what I’m doing, but my heart feels like it's about to beat out of my chest. The last thing I want to do is scare you away.” He gave you a soft look, and you noticed his painted cheeks had a noticeable yellow tint to them now. Your tail uncurled itself again as you stepped towards him once again.

“I forgive you,” you say sweetly, pecking his lips. “You’d never be able to scare me away, Lucifer. And you know, it’s not like…God, I can’t believe I’m actually going to admit this to you…” you sucked in a hard breath. “It’s not like I haven’t thought about…what else you could show me…”

Lucifer’s eyes seemed to glaze over at your confession. “You…you can’t say things like that…”

“Why n-ahh!” You found yourself forcibly pressed against his hips again. You turned around to see your tail hadn’t been the culprit this time. It was Lucifer’s that bound you two together. You felt like you were going to explode any second now.

“It’s dangerous." Lucifer murmured against your ear. Suddenly you found it extremely difficult to swallow.

"For you or for me?" He didn't answer, refusing to meet your gaze. "I uhh, I like your tongue, by the way." you blurted out without thinking, trying to steer the conversation into a more lighthearted one. Lucifer smiled and rolled his eyes. “Hey, I’m trying to give you a compliment here! I’ve had so many…changes, I didn’t even think about my own…”

"I can check it for you, if you'd like," Lucifer teased. Before you could answer, he captured your lips again, but this time with much more fervor. His tongue darted out between his lips and flicked it against yours, begging for entrance. Slowly, your jaw slacked, and you parted your lips. You felt his tongue makes its way into your hot mouth, entangling it with your own. You moaned into him as you let him explore your chasm, pressing into you as far as he possibly could. It still wasn't enough. His hands roamed your body with one landing at the small of your back, the other finding it's place on your hip. Your hands did some exploring of their own, wandering to his chest and unbuttoning his jacket first and then his shirt. The buttons popped open one by one until both garments dropped to the floor with a soft thud. His skin felt soft under your touch. You raked your nails down his chest and over his stomach, completely intoxicated by the way he was making you feel. Instinctively, you rocked your hips against his, eliciting a small yelp from the king. He pulled away in an instant, his breath faltering as was your own.

"You're playing with fire by doing that, you know," he warned as he unwrapped his tail from around you. Lucifer didn't sound angry, far from it. But his voice was dripping with concern, almost as if he were afraid. Of what, you weren't sure. But you were determined to get the answer out of him one way or another. "In any case, your tongue seems to be perfectly normal. But it wouldn't hurt to double check-HEY!"

With a quick shove, you forced him down onto the edge of the bed, his back now flat against the mattress. His widened eyes followed you as you crawled your way up his body, stopping to hover over him and finally tossing his hat off to the side.

"I'm not afraid of a little fire," you retorted. "I've already been burned." You crashed his lips into his again, lowering your body slowly onto his. Lucifer's hands found their way to your waist as you began to lethargically roll your hips against his. You swallowed every sound he let out, driving you further to pick up the pace. After a few snaps of your hips, your felt a growing bulge push up to meet your core. Your heart palpitated at the thought of riling him up. Your tail took control once more and slithered up the sheets to find Lucifer's, entangling them together. Lucifer whimpered beneath you, his body convulsing with every move you made. Even his grip on your waist was feather light. You pulled your lips away to see his eyes flash a bright red for just a moment before fading back to normal.

"Stop holding back on me, Lucifer," you commanded breathlessly. "I told you nothing you do will scare me away. You have to believe that."

"You..." Lucifer gulped, "You don't know w-what you're asking for."

"Then show me."

A small roar escaped Lucifer's throat as he pulled you off of him to throw you down onto the mattress, your arms now pinned above your head. It all happened so fast that your brain couldn't properly register how you ended up on your back so fast. When you looked back up at Lucifer, he had changed. His eyes remained a blood red with large horns now protruding from his temples. He was no longer a fallen angel, but a demon looking to devour his next meal. And at this moment, it was you. Your whole body trembled from the fallen angel above you. Part of you wanted to scream, but not of fear, but from pure elation. Two fallen angels giving into their deepest desires with no fear of consequence.

"O-Oh, shit..." you squeaked.

Lucifer chucked. "I don't know if I've ever heard you curse before, sweetheart. It's cute." You could only gulp in response, and Lucifer took notice of your tense expression. "Don't say I didn't try to warn you. I think it’d be best if we st-"

You bucked up your hips in response, making Lucifer hiss. "All I’ve thought about for the last 10,000 years was having the chance to see you again. If you think some demonic horns and scary-looking eyes are going to change the way I feel about you, you’re wrong! You’re such a hypocrite! I know I don’t look like I used to before, but you haven’t been able to keep your hands off me this entire time!”

Lucifer froze for a moment at your words, shaking his head in an attempt to regain his train of thought. His hands instantly let go of yours and flew to the top of your thighs. You sucked in the harsh breath when you felt him sneak under the fabric of your dress and finally grip the hem of your panties. He looked at you expectantly, and you wordlessly nodded, giving him approval to keep going. He began to slide your panties down your legs at an agonizingly slow pace, you couldn’t help but whimper. Lucifer chuckled at your impatience.

“Maybe you’re right,” Lucifer finally spoke as he at last removed the black garment from your legs and tossed it away, “Maybe I am a hypocrite. So, if you’ll allow me, I’d like to try something. But first…” With a snap of his fingers, the large curtains that hung in his room fell, covering up the large yellow tinted windows, shrouding the room in darkness. “We don’t want any wandering eyes, now do we. Not that anybody would be dumb enough to try and spy on me, right?” he asked, smiling at you deviously.

“Oh, eat me, Lucifer!” you spat back at him playfully.

“Don't you worry, darling, we’ll get there soon enough,” he teased, licking his lips. You couldn’t hold back the whine that escaped your throat. The skirt of your dress was hiked up further and further until the cool air fully hit your slick folds. All you could hear was your heartbeat pounding in your ears. Lucifer's claws trailed slowly up your soft thighs, stopping just before where you needed him most. "Are you sure you want this?"

You sat up on your elbows quickly, grabbing the back of his neck to pull him into a quick kiss. "Please," you whispered against his lips.

It was only a moment before you felt an unfamiliar pressure between your legs as Lucifer slipped a finger into you, pushing in and out of you slowly and methodically. Your hips bucked trying to create as much friction as possible, but Lucifer's other hand held you down by the hip. "Patience is a virtue, my dear," he remarked in a sultry voice, "you of all people should know that."

"I-I was-hhng...never that kind of-a-ah...virtue," you babbled, your mind going fuzzy from the pleasure. A second digit was inserted into you without warning, causing you to arch your back and groan out in ecstasy. You felt Lucifers skilled fingers pulling in and out of you, curling them inside hitting that sweet spot that made you see stars.

"You make the cutest sounds," Lucifer praised. "I want to hear more." Lucifer retreated his fingers immediately and you cried out in desperation, mourning the loss of his touch. But before you could beg for him to keep going, his face was already buried between your thighs. You felt his long forked tongue lick up your lower lips and your hand flew to your mouth to muffle a scream. He pulled away and glared at you with his cardinal eyes. "You better pull your hand away from that pretty mouth of yours if you want me to keep going," he warned. "I told you; I want to hear you. You wouldn't deny me those lovely noises after 10,000 years apart, would you." You obliged, gripping the sheet s beneath you to keep your hands at bay. Satisfied with your response, Lucifer's head dipped back down to work at your dripping cunt. The guttural moans and whimpers that escaped you filled the bedroom. His tongue darted in and out of you at a relentless pace, his lips sucked on your sensitive nub without abandon. It was too much and not enough at the same time. Before long, you felt the coil in your stomach begin to tighten. One hand flew to Lucifer's while the other grabbed onto one of his horns. You felt the king growl against you as he continued to devour your pussy.

"L-Lucifer," you cried, "Luci...I-I...FFFUUCCK, I-I can't...can't hold it! G-Gonna cum, I'm s-so close..."

You felt the vibrations of Lucifer's satisfied hum. "I told you I wanted to try something, didn't I?" he asked. "Now it's your turn not to hold back. I want you to let go, let everything go for me." He plunged two fingers back into you without warning while his tongue attacked your clit. You were going to snap at any moment. "F-FUCK, Lucifer, I'm gonna...gonna c-cum, fuckfuckfuckFUCK!" With your thunderous cries, you felt your walls clamp down around his claws digits, his tongue lapping you up like a starved man. You felt something else at that moment, something different. A sudden pressure released from the sides of your head as you came. It wasn't a feeling of pain, but it was a sensation you've never felt before. Lucifer finally lifted his head after helping you ride out your climax, his chin dripping with your release. He flashed a cheeky grin at you before licking his lips.

"Absolutely divine," he murmured, "that was definitely worth the centuries long wait." Your face flushed from his word and you tried to look away, but his hand caught your chin before you could do so, pulling you into a kiss. You could taste a faint hint of yourself on his lips, and it was intoxicating. "Seems like my hunch was right," he chuckled as his eyes drifted upwards, "you definitely didn't hold back."

"W-What are you talking about?" you asked almost breathlessly. With another snap of his fingers, a small hand mirror appeared from thin air. He handed it to you with a soft smile. Hesitantly, you took a hold of the mirror and held it up to your face, and you finally knew what Lucifer had been trying to do. Your eyes had shifted to a midnight black with bright red irises. And the pressure you felt in your head moments ago finally made sense as you reached up to touch the dark curled ram horns that now poked out of your temples. You stared at yourself, shocked and yet somehow hypnotized. He had pulled the true demon out of you.

"You look...you're so beautiful," Lucifer sighed.

"You really think that?" you asked, looking up from the mirror in your hands.

"I've never thought anything different," he replied.

You tossed the mirror to the side of the bed and yanked Lucifer by the hips, pulling him over to sit against the headboard. He yelped in response but it was quickly silenced by your lips against his. You crawled into his lap and gently ground your slick entrance against the very obvious bulge in his pants.

"I need you now, Lucifer. Please," you begged. "I think we've both waited long enough..." With a final snap of Lucifer's fingers, your dress had completely vanished from your body as had his pants, leaving you both bare in front of each other for the first time. Your instincts told you to cover up, but at this point, all inhibitions have been lost and you were in no head space to concern yourself with that. You saw Lucifer's eyes wander to your chest and hold there for just a little too long. "Are you just going to stare at me or do you need me to tell you to use your hands?"

Lucifer laughed sheepishly as his clawed hands found their way to your soft mounds, kneading them between his sharp fingers. He pinched your nipples, rolling them between his index and his thumb, soft moans catching in your throat. You felt his cock twitch between your stomachs, your mouth salivating in anticipation. You raised your hips and hovered yourself over his engorged member. He took his hand and pressed it against your soaked entrance, slowing gliding it back and forth against your folds, hitting your sensitive nub with each swipe.

"Are you ready?" he breathed.

"I am," you answered.

Slowly, you lowered your hips, sinking down on his cock inch by inch. You hissed at the initial pain of the intrusion, but it in no time the pain changed to feelings of pure bliss. It was only a moment more before you bottomed out on his cock, with him filling you completely as if your bodies were made for each other. You moaned in unison once he was fully inside of you, your tails wrapping around each other’s waists as to hold each other as you possibly could.

"Can I move?" you whimpered.

Lucifer shook his head. "Y-You need to tell me something first."

Your body yearned to move, digging your nails into his shoulder blades. "Yes, a-anything!"

"B-Before..." he started, "Before you told me-shit...you told me the f-feelings you had for me weren't going to change." You looked at him confused as he continued to speak. "I n-need to know...how you feel...about me..."

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as you lifted his head, forcing him to stare back at you. "I love you, Lucifer Morningstar. I always have. And I always will."

With your confession, Lucifer leaned up to capture your lips again. Your tongues found each other, twisting and entangling them in a passionate fight for dominance. His hands flew to your hips, gripping them tight as you felt your self being lifted up only to be pulled back down on his cock. You screamed into his mouth, but he captured your every noise. Your hips were lifted again with his guidance, and soon you found a steady pace, rocking against him and pulling as many sounds from him as you could. Lucifer pulled away from your lips and dove to your breasts, taking a nipple into his mouth, with one hand feeling up the other. His cock filled you to the absolute brim, hitting your most sensitive spot with every thrust. You couldn't imagine a better feeling as you felt the familiar tightening of the coil in your stomach.

"I m-missed you so much," Lucifer mumbled as he tried desperately to catch his breath. "So much...You're mine now. Forever and for a-all eternity. D-Don't ever leave me, please don't e-ever leave me again..."

His words hit you like an arrow to the heart. It was only now that you realized how much he cared for you despite being apart for so long. Torn apart and brought back together by the ones who deemed you unworthy of divinity.

"N-Never," you answered, "I'm yours."

Tears began to roll down both of your faces, him pulling you in to taste you again. "I love you," he murmured against your lips. "I love you; I love you, I-I love youuuu-fuckfuckfuck, I'm c-close..."

You buried your head in the crook of his neck as your body started to convulse. "W-Wanna feel you, Luci, p-please, don't stop, I-I'm gonna cum a-again..." His thrusts up into you became more and more erratic, you could feel his cock throbbing inside of you with every movement. With one final hard thrust, you cried out in pleasure, your orgasm hitting you in full force as your walls pulsated around him. Your climax triggered his own as you heard him wail in response, feeling his hot ropes of cum cover your pink walls. You both rode out your highs as your hips slowed and finally came to a stop. You could feel his release leaking out onto your thighs underneath you and your heart skipped a beat at the thought of being filled with his seed. After you both caught your breaths, Lucifer gently lifted you off of him and laid you down next to him, your demonic forms both retreating. He pulled you flush against his chest and kissed the top of your head.

"To think I could have had you all this time," he whispered. "I'm such an idiot..."

You looked into his glassy eyes and placed a small peck to his lips. "No, you aren't," you comforted. "The past doesn't matter. What matters is now. And we have the rest of time to spend together, right?"

Lucifer smiled back at you softly. "We have forever, my love." He pulled you close to him again, this time with a little more force, but not enough to hurt you.

"Lucifer, I'm not going anywhere," you said sweetly, "you're holding me like...like I'm going to vanish into thin air."

"I can't be sure that you won't," he replied almost inaudibly. His wings suddenly appeared, engulfing you completely in their embrace.

You wrapped your arms around his lower back, embracing him fully. "You'll never lose me again, I promise." You and Lucifer missed dinner that night as you drifted to sleep in each other's arms.

~~~~

IT'S DONE, HALLELUAH, NOW IF YOU EXCUSE ME IMMA GO BATHE IN HOLY WATER BYEEEEEE

Taglist: @ask-theradio-demon @kermitdafroggy @thonethatflies620 @luc1fersducky @a-okay-rj

@bat-boness @myhornybrainonlyknowsthis @misfitgirlwrites @animationmovieshipps @orbitinglumps

@ramenkitten @blaackbiird @bigfatbimbo @lucisaspen @bvnnyangel

@seulace9 @fluffypinkpillows @starlightdreaming @k-n0-x @rosen-und-mondlicht

@raindropsfromheaven @ronniesgonerogue @lola576 @ag-cookiebat800 @victoriousvic

@rand0m-1diot @lonelynmisunderstood @cosmic-lavender @yourmom132 @liveontelevision

@luci-lover-forever @lolalovesmorningstar @moonlight-readings @mel-windle @la-undercover-latina

@yve-barr @certified-cry-babyyy @literallurker @leviskittywh0re @thornwolfy235

@lauruoriii @annybah @jayyyayaysblog

[starboyshoyo]

Tropes-To-Lovers

Characters: All NRC boys x fem!reader (seperately)

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland

Genre: fluff

What were you to the NRC boys, before you were lovers?

Includes: Childhood friends to lovers, best friends to lovers, strangers to lovers, enemies to lovers, exes to lovers.

Childhood Friends to Lovers

Trey Clover the boy next door

Everyone and their mother knows Trey Clover, the golden boy in your little provincial town. Sweet, intelligent, and he can bake? He’s a heartthrob in every definition of the word. But Trey’s only ever had eyes for you, his parents’ best friends’ daughter and the girl next door.

Joined at the hip from the moment you met, you’ve done it all together- but Trey’s been away at NRC for three years. You were sure he would move to the city after getting a taste of the wider world. So you’re caught off-guard when he returns to take over his family’s bakery, eight inches taller than you remember.

His eyes crinkle at the corners when he sees you, and you can feel the firmness of muscles under his shirt when you launch yourself at him, embracing him tightly. He has to bend down to hug you now, you realize. And his face is sharper now, jaw angular instead of the soft cheeks you were used to. When did that happen?

And when did he get so handsome?

Leona Kingscholar betrothed to his brother

Leona has only ever had one friend- you, the heir from the neighboring kingdom. It shouldn’t be a problem to love you the way he does, but the stars in the sky had other plans, it seemed. Because from the moment you were born, you were meant to marry Falena.

Leona has long-since learned that no matter what he does, he’ll never be enough to win the public’s love. It didn’t matter that he knew you never had feelings for Falena, or that Falena was seeing someone else in secret. His brother will be king, not him. He’ll watch you walk down the aisle towards him, and then he’ll go back to his room and take a nap, and tell himself that he won’t be upset. That’s just the way life will be.

One day, while napping behind a curtain in the royal library, he catches wind of something so very interesting. Your parents arrived in the kingdom that morning, bearing news: Falena’s engagement has been peaceably broken, by your own choice, nonetheless. It’s a huge, life-changing decision and so a formal dinner is being held, to re-discuss the terms of the treaty. Leona wants to snap you up right away to be his, but he has to bide his time. For now, he’ll meet your eye across the banquet table, scowl softening a little. He should have known that he has always been king in your heart.

Silver childhood soulmates

Right person, right place, right time. Rarely did the universe ever align so beautifully. From your first meeting at the tender age of five to the time you were accepted into NRC, Silver has always been by your side.

He’s the first thing you see when you wake up in the mornings and the final good night you say before going to sleep. When small birds land on your desk and deposit gifts of acorns and flowers to you, you know exactly who they were from and who was thinking of you at the moment. And when you look at your handsome knight, you can’t help but imagine him by your side, every step of the way for the rest of your life.

Silver is more than just your best friend and first love. He is your person, through and through.

Best Friends to Lovers

Epel Felmier first friend, first love

You met Epel on the first day of school, getting beat up by a blonde upperclassman in the hallway. Much to the surprise of both boys, you jumped in to help him- pulling him off the ground and scolding the taller boy, who merely scoffed and wandered off. Though Epel’s ego was a bit bruised, he was grateful to you for helping him.

Epel became your constant companion after that. You could listen to him talk for hours while laying on the floor of your dorm room, a bag of apple chips in hand. His roguish accent and mischievous jokes charm you a little more each day, making him more than just the rough-hewn boy you met at the entrance ceremony not long ago.

His grandparents know all about you from the letters he sends home. Even in ink, they can sense his lovestruck heart. They had felt the same way when they started courting all those years ago. The Felmier family are fools in love, it seems. You would call him your best friend if someone asked, but Epel wants to be so much more.

Ace Trappola best friends to lovers

It’s pathetic how fast Ace changed his tune. The first time he met you, he was jeering you for being a magicless human. Now, he’s in love with you? When did that happen? And why did it have to be with you of all people?

Ace isn’t fooling himself. He knows why it’s you. It’s simply because no one could ever capture his heart the same way you do, with your smiles and your laughs and the way you look at him in both disapproval and exasperated fondness when he makes a crude joke.

Don’t act surprised when he holds your hand out of the blue or when he searches your face with those eyes, wondering what it would feel like to kiss you silly right then and there. He wants you, not anyone else, and it’s driving him crazy.

Kalim Al-Asim what are we?

Everyone thinks you and Kalim are dating already. You joke about it all the time. Oh, yeah, we’re partners in crime! Soulmates! Two sides of the same coin- but the line between teasing and reality has begun to blur. Once, you even made a jibe that you’d marry him one day, and Kalim got you an actual ring! It was so extravagant- a ruby inlaid with smaller gilded gems along the edges. He told you it was a family treasure, kept in the storerooms of Scarabia and just waiting to adorn the hand of the right person.

You tried to refuse, but he insisted. Money wasn’t something the Al-Asim heir ever had to worry about. So you go along with it, the golden band rubbing between your fingers and his when you walk down the halls, hands interlaced.

How does Kalim really feel about you? You’re not sure, so one day you ask- Kalim, what are we?

He looks at you curiously. “Aren’t we engaged?”

Strangers to Lovers

Deuce Spade the hallway crush

Every day between alchemy and history of magic, Deuce finds himself scanning faces in the hallway for someone who makes his face flush and his palms turn sweaty. And every day when you catch his eye and send him a wave, he finds himself tangled up a little more in his heartstrings, tripping over his feet as he tries to return your greeting.

He’s not sure when he first noticed you. Maybe it was when he fumbled and nearly dropped a potion on the carpet, and you caught it. His heart did flutter a bit then, but maybe that was because he nearly messed up the project he had been working on all night. He wants to talk to you again so badly- more than just a ‘hello‘ or a ‘thanks.’ He wants to brighten up your day just by walking by, like you do for him. Maybe if he becomes an honors student, then you’ll finally notice him too.

Jack Howl the mysterious savior

Being hounded by a group of rogue students wasn’t in your plans for the day. Trying to slip between the mob, avoiding their prying hands and sharp words, a sudden growl makes them all look up. A tall boy with wolflike ears towers over them.

Leave them alone. His voice is sharp, like a dog's canines. Golden eyes meet yours, steely and cold, but they soften for a moment when you manage to say thank you.

Your savior rubs the back of his neck. ‘S nothing, he says gruffly, but the lingering traces of blush on his face tell a different story. Only when he leaves do you realize that you had never gotten his name. Perhaps fate will lead you to meet once again, in the near future.

Azul Ashengrotto love at first sight

One minute he’s discussing the best way to mix a potion with his lab partner. The next, he’s sitting straight in his chair, eyes blown wide when you walk into the room. You’ve ensnared Azul Ashengrotto’s attention and heart without a single word. And when you finally say hi to him, ignorant of his shady dealings and strange company, he’s caught- hook, line, and sinker.

Azul begins to do things for you. Not in the way he does for others, with a flourish of his pen and a snap of his fingers. No, you’re special. He could never ask anything of you.

It’s so obvious, the way he favors you and gives you the best of everything he has. But he can’t bring himself to care- not when this new feeling brings him such happiness.

Idia Shroud closer than he thought

Idia Shroud has never met you irl. No way. All you are to him is a profile picture on a leaderboard, telling him to dodge the next attack or that he’ll never beat you in the latest game the two of you are playing. You make his gloomy days a little brighter. And when they’re brighter, he finally takes a chance to step outside for a bit and go to class.

In class is where he met you. His charming desk partner, whose presence he enjoyed far more than he thought he would. He likes your jokes. He likes that you play the same games as him and nerd out about the same topics. But when he returns to the world of online anonymity, he can’t help but feel disloyal- so much so that he doesn’t notice the lilt of the voice in his speakers is the same one that rings in his ears when he falls asleep in class.

Malleus Draconia love from afar

No one knows who you are, a mere human who attends NRC. You could be dangerous as far as his retainers know. Malleus isn’t supposed to speak with you- but oh, does he want to.

He’s tried to ignore the pull towards you, but he just can’t. Why is this mere child of man lingering in his thoughts, ensnaring his every waking moment?

One night when Sebek is busy berating Silver for falling asleep on the job, he sneaks away and finds you beneath the moonlight, staring up at the stars. He’s caught like a fly in a web from the first hello.

Enemies to Lovers

Riddle Rosehearts academic rivals

He’s so annoying. With a loud voice, short stature, and short temper, you could consider Riddle Rosehearts to always be underfoot. But even you have to admire his academic prowess, his name topping the scores at every turn. And just under him, is you. How very frustrating.

You’re so focused on one-upping one another that you don’t even catch yourself when thoughts of him wander into your mind throughout the day. Of course you think of him, you’re trying to beat him. But slowly the competition turns into wondering. What does he do in his free time? What’s his favorite food, his favorite color?

Little do you know, he thinks of you too.

Ruggie Bucchi the goodhearted thief

You heard from your neighbors about the slum thief who steals things from their shops. It’s only a matter of time before he comes to you next, they warn, so be ready.

And ready you are. When a skinny boy with rounded ears atop his head tries to slip something into his pocket, you call him out. And when he dashes away, you scramble after him- tackling him in a paved alley near some dumpsters. Cans go crashing over to reveal several homeless youngsters, shivering in the cold and barely more than bones. The boy tosses the food to them before you can intervene- but why would you, when you’ve just seen what you saw?

When he comes into the bakery next time, you make sure he pays. But you also slip an extra loaf or two into his order, with a wink and a nod. Your conversations become a bit longer, a bit friendlier. He’s quite charming and you have to berate yourself for falling for a thief.

He’s stolen your heart, hasn’t he?

Floyd Leech the hallway bully

Floyd Leech. Just his name makes you groan and roll your eyes. It’s not just you he teases you in the hallway by holding your things over his head, but you seem to be his favorite. How are you supposed to get your notebook back when it’s dangling almost 8 feet above the ground, courtesy of his freakishly long arms?

The graceful solution you come up with is to kick him. Right in his eel, to summarize. His twin brother is by his side in an instant while you walk off.

Jade expects Floyd to be livid. But even when he’s doubled up on the ground in pain, he’s got a grin plastered across his face.

His shrimpy is such a badass.

Jamil Viper flirting rivals

For someone who’s usually level-headed and cool, you sure bring out Jamil’s temper. He can find a million ways to insult and discredit you, but still you’ll bounce back with some snarky, suggestive comment that just makes his blood boil.

He swears he can feel your eyes on him from across the hallways. It makes him want to pull his hood up over his face. But when you approach him, he’s as calm as ever. Why are you leaning closer, prefect, and running your hands over his tie? He’s not going to fall for your ruse, so don’t even try.

Still, his eyes can’t help but wander down to your lips, wondering if they would taste like he imagined.

Rook Hunt one-sided annoyance

It seems like you’ve gained yourself a one-man paparazzi recently. If Rook is meant to be a hunter, you have to wonder if he’s any good at his job. He never seems to conceal his presence, following you down the hallways brazenly while spouting off fake compliments about your demeanor and beauty.

Well, you thought they were fake. It’s hard to believe anyone is genuine in a school full of villains, but you might have caught the attention of the one person who actually is. His company isn’t so bad sometimes, especially when you can talk his ear off about anything and everything.

Sebek Zigvolt forced proximity

This was meant to be a partner project, not a threeway. But being paired with the great Malleus Draconia means putting up with his annoying, self-proclaimed bodyguard for the next week as well.

You pity Sebek’s alchemy partner, because he’s ignoring his own work in favor of hovering over you and his liege. His loud, unsolicited advice and passive-aggressive comments don’t make him any more bearable. By the time Thursday rolls around, you’re about ready to drop-kick him into the cauldron.

Thankfully, you and Malleus get your work done early. When you’re packing up your things to leave, you find Sebek quiet for once, deep in concentration as he rushes to finish his own work.

I don’t need the help of a human, he proclaims in that loud, obnoxious bark of his. But he doesn’t complain when you settle down next to him, stirring the potion while he measures out ingredients.

Exes to Lovers

Cater Diamond the one that got away

Cater knows you probably hate his guts. Hell, he hates his own guts for fucking up so badly. You were the best thing that ever happened to him and he drove you away with his constant neediness and self-deprecation. It took him years to realize that he was so focused on himself that he didn’t realize that you needed support too.

He’s been lonely for a while, working on himself and his problems in the shadows. It’s been a while since he last saw you- he knows you might not want to see him again anyways, but he’s changed now- both for himself and for you.

Cater wants you back, if you’ll have him.

Jade Leech second chance romance

Jade was nothing more than a talking stage that never got off the ground. He was fun to be around and a good hiking partner, but you stopped seeing him after first year ended and you no longer shared a class together.

You didn’t think of him much throughout your second and third year at NRC . But when you arrive at your new work study to meet your partner for the program, a tall, familiar figure greets you at the door.

“Jade?”

Vil Schoenheit right person, wrong time

Vil has no one but himself to blame for the downfall of your relationship. He broke things off with you after his manager advised him to- she said that a young, taken idol isn’t marketable. You need to think about your image.

The stage lights blinded him and he dropped you without a second thought. Any trace of you in his life was erased; smoothed over to perfection like a beauty filter.

But oh, how Vil regrets it when he scrolls on his phone late at night, your Magicam account pulled up to a photo of you laughing. What he wouldn’t give to have you smile like that at him again.

The icon for a DM request sits beside your profile picture. Vil regards it for a second, finger hovering over the button, then clicks.

Lilia Vanrouge facing the future

Lilia has always known that humans live short lives. In his time, he’s seen countless people born and died. It’s just a fact of human life; a phenomena he watches from the outside in- disconnected. It doesn’t dawn on him that yours too will run out until Malleus points it out- and then Lilia becomes scared.

He’ll cut you off, hiding in the shadows and avoiding your eyes until a great danger almost befalls you. It is then that Lilia realizes he’d rather have loved and lost you than never have known you at all.

Please, stay with him. You have the rest of your life, however short or long, to live by his side. Lilia would gladly warp time and face the consequences just for one more minute with you.

[jasmines-library]

Costly Gift

WHUMPTOBER DAY 7: prompt: Magic with a cost/only for emergencies

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

Word count: 1.1k

warnings: Blood and injuries

MASTERLIST ⛤ WHUMPTOBER 2024

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

One of the many things that made you special was your powers. There was no doubt about that. Your special ability that made you unique. The ability to heal others. It was a lifesaver when it came to your line of work. Being a vigilante was no easy task. Even a small job would leave the people involved battered and bruised, scraped and scarred. And you could heal them with a touch of a hand. 

But it came with a cost. 

Every time you healed a bruise, or made scarred skin smooth, you would absorb the injury yourself. And you would heal quicker. Sure. But they still hurt nonetheless. Sometimes you would end up with four or five times as many injuries compared to everyone else because you had swapped their pain out for yours. They didn’t know about this of course. You didn’t tell them because you didn’t want to seem weak. Because you knew that they would have shut you down the moment they realised that you were hurting yourself in order to help them. You didn't tell them because you wanted to do something useful. 

The night was busy. You were darting to and from your team, healing their wounds before darting off to help the next one. Your body would slowly heal itself as you moved, so the minor bruises would be gone within ten minutes or so. It wasn’t such gruelling work, and the wounds were only small. A cut here or a nasty sprain there. That was until you heard the shrill cry from across the rooftop and were dashing across it as fast as your feet could carry you. 

Damian was slumped awkwardly in Tim’s arms as he stumbled, blood pouring from the wound in his leg. He was struggling to stand, or put any weight on his injured leg at all so Tim had taken to awkwardly trying to support him. To their left lay the offending criminal, bloody knife still clutched in his hand from where he was sprawled out on the floor. Damian groaned in pain as his wound continued to seep with sticky blood. Tim pulled him away from the fighting, easing him to the ground. You skidded to your knees beside him and Tim looked at you worried. 

“He needs you.” He said desperately. You wasted no time taking his injured leg between your hands and channel your magic, feeling it sizzle through your veins and tingle in your fingertips before it began to stitch his skin closed. You felt the sting of the wound opening on your thigh almost instantly, but you did well to mask your pain. As soon as it was done, Damian thanked you and rushed off with Tim ready to continue the fight. When you stood, you took a moment to gain your bearings before taking an experimental step forwards. The wound was deep and hurt like a bitch. But you would have to make do. 

You gained a couple more nasty injuries during the fight. It was certainly one of the most brutal patrols you had seen in a while. You had gained a large cut that you had taken away from Dick which ran across your ribs, and a nastily sprained ankle from Tim. You had a definite limp that you struggled to hide as you made your way back to the cave. You felt faint, likely from the blood loss that was making your suit sticky. Your body was healing itself slowly, but the sheer amount of injuries just seemed like too much for your body to handle at once.

You stumbled on your feet as you clambered out of the batmobile, moving as quickly as you could so that you could get away from your team. You couldn't wait to just collapse on your bed. You were so exhausted and all of your energy was being focused on hiding your secret. But your suffering didn’t go unnoticed by your team. Tim frowned as he watched you hobble away. He had keen, observant eyes and he noticed your limp almost instantly. 

“You alright?” He asked, catching up to you quickly. “You’re limping.”

“Oh….yeah.” You lied quickly, trying to hide the strain in your voice. “There's a stone in my shoe.”

“Bullshit” Tim said, calling you out though he was clearly very worried about you. He was watching the way sweat broke out on your forehead, and it seemed like you were struggling to remember how to put one foot in front of the other. “I think you need to sit down….”

“I’m fine.” you choked out. But your legs failed you, and you wavered on your feet. 

Tim placed a hand on your arm to steady you. “Woah. Woah–” he lead you over to the chairs, worried that you were going to pass out.

“What’s going on?” Jason, who had rushed over, asked. 

“Something is wrong.” Tim said. But you hardly heard him. You were too focused on not passing out. 

There was a tap on the side of your face. “Hey. did you hear me?”

You blinked. “Hm…?

“I said, are you hurt?” Jason repeated his question.

“I don’t get hurt.” You mumbled. You didn’t know it, but there was a slight slur to your words. The two boys shared a glance. 

“Where is it?” Jason questioned you, giving you a close once over before he found the blood seeping into your suit. He cut the fabric away quickly, revealing the cut on your leg. Tim frowned. It looked awfully familiar….

“Is that…..is that Damian’s wound…?” He said, looking at the healing flesh. 

Jason then found the one on your ribs. “Dick was hurt here too….” he muttered. 

You made some sort of noise of acknowledgement. And then Tim clocked it…

“Kid….when you heal our wounds…..do they transfer to you instead.”

You had answered before you even realised you were telling them something you had told yourself you wouldn't. “mmhm…yeah .”

The four of them were instantly hit with a sense of guilt and fear. How many times had they hurt you?

“All of them….?” Damian swallowed

“...uh-huh…it's okay though…”you said, watching your skin knit itself back together “i heal fast…”

“Oh sweetheart….its not okay. You’ve been hurting yourself to help us and we had no idea. We’ve been asking you to heal all sorts…..”

“I don’t mind….. Im being useful. Helping. Its the only thing that makes me useful to the team.”

Dick frowned deeply at that, smoothing a hand over your hair. “Oh sweetness, you're a valued part of the team. Powers or not we need you.”

“You do?”

“Of course we do, kid. You’re one of the best fighters we've got.”

You smiled a little, a warm sense of validation swelled inside you. “Oh…”

“Now how about we see about getting that patched up, hm? And I don’t want any of that ‘i can heal on my own’ crap, okay?  Let us heal you for once.”

<- DAY SIX ⛤ DAY EIGHT ->

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

TAGS:

@hearts4robs @kingshitonly @alicedawitchbish @hell-o-kittys @azure-drag0ness @harleycao @thewhispersofthewaves @batfamsstuff @xxrougefangxx @rosecentury @noisymutantherelol l @killxz @rhiodes @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @canthavetoomuchchaos

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤