#a thrill divine down my spine

[kay-elle-cee]

If you could recommend one of your fics to me which would it be and why?

Hi anon! This might be cheating, but I'm going to give you 2 recs: an angsty multichapter and a fluffy oneshot.

Fluffy Oneshot: A Thrill Divine, Down My Spine — T. 2.3k. This was something I put together rather quickly, but was gripped by the idea and the vibes of a song. I had so much fun writing a no-Voldemort AU Friends-to-Lovers Jily. I let them really just have fun with each other, and I really think that bubbled up to the writing. This continues to be one of my favorite little fics I've written.

Angsty Multichapter: i'll be fine, i'll be good — M. 6 Chapters. 63k. Conversely to the above, this is the fic that's taken me the LONGEST to write, so far. The idea of a Slytherin Lily who is still so recognizable as the Lily we know from canon, and how her sorting affects her relationships and life, is so compelling to me. It's probably the fic that means the most to me—I feel so much for this Lily and am so proud of her growth and how she takes control of her life.

Thank you for this ask, it was a fun one!

[grimmweepers]

𝐏𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐌𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄: OCT 17TH

— ♤ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: zhongli x fem!reader | 𝐜𝐰: established relationship but reader finds out his true identity! morax!form, draconic!form mention, human!reader, sex with a god, hair pulling, creampie, nipple play, rough sex, reader wears a nightgown, he calls you 'small in his hands', reader is implied to serve rex lapis, maybe ooc, 2.8k wc 18+ only, MDNI.

𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

This was completely different from the first time you shared beds with him.

Back then, Zhongli had been soft and gentle, undressing you with such tender care until nothing remained but bare skin and bones. You remembered his warm amber eyes, his featherlight touches, and how he gave so much of himself to you that it left you dizzy and breathless. 

But this was something else entirely. 

It wasn’t that long ago when, to you, he was just a consultant at the Funeral Parlour—a Liyue nobleman who was well-versed in Teyvat’s history. He had been courting you since the last Lantern Rite (perhaps longer if you had paid attention) and you were more than content with the consultant, admiring him just as he was.

Then, after retiring his gnosis—and you still struggled to fully grasp what that meant—he finally confessed.

Overnight, he went from a funeral consultant to Rex Lapis and no matter how many times he explained that he was technically no longer an Archon, it didn’t change the fact that he was still an immortal who had witnessed Liyue from infancy.

And you slept with him!

The memory sent a shiver down your spine, though you couldn’t deny the thrill of realising how the Lord of Rock had practically begged for you to get on top that night. That same feeling returned now as you prepared to sleep with him again. 

You basically asked for it, though. 

When he revealed his identity to you, you had some questions. The first was if he had a real form, to which he replied: I have many.

Then the second question—or rather, request—was to see one of these forms. He was happy to oblige, but you hadn’t expected him to be so… forward.

I’m not being forward, he defended himself, My skin is part of my form. It just so happens that I have to adjust my attire for you to see it properly. 

But he knew exactly what he was doing.

“Zhongli—” His name now felt strange on your lips as you stared, spellbound by his new appearance. You were so captivated that anything could have rolled off your tongue and you wouldn’t have noticed… or cared.

He truly embodied every depiction of Rex Lapis you’ve ever seen.

“Is something the matter?” He asked as if his arms weren’t adorned in glowing geo patterns, as if his physique wasn’t carefully carved by millennia as a leader. He stood over you while you sat on the edge of your bed and you gulped at the vitality in his features. 

He looked larger—more youthful, even.

“What do I—” You hesitated, wondering if your question was foolish. “What do I call you?” 

He cupped your jaw the way he always did, though now with bare hands darkened by power that you could barely comprehend. “You can choose whichever name you like,” he replied. “It doesn’t change who I am to you.” 

Your mouth went dry. It was frightening how much more irresistible he seemed like this.

“Morax,” you whispered, mostly to yourself.

His brows lifted slightly, but he stayed silent.

“Morax,” you repeated, louder this time. You knew calling him ‘Rex Lapis’ would have been more respectful, more appropriate, but after seeing him in this divine form, with barely a towel wrapped around his waist, you knew that respect had already been thrown out the window. You would ask to be forgiven but what difference would it make if the god you pleaded to stood right before you in compromised garment?

“Interesting choice,” he chuckled as he pressed his thumb to your lips, “Now, lie still and let me enjoy what belongs to me.”

Those words sank in like branding on your skin—what belongs to me.

He was slow with you at first, hovering over you as you lay back. The silk of your nightgown clung to every curve of your body which left little to the imagination and Zhongli was so engrossed with his view, that the lust in his eyes made something inside you stir. You had to look away, your arms instinctively moving to shield your flushed expression.

After all, it wasn’t every day that you found yourself at the mercy of a man so many prayed to.

Gently, he pulled your arm away, “Why do you turn from me, my love?” He tilted his head, studying you like prey, but the tenderness in his voice reminded you that the ghost of your sweet Zhongli was still there, lingering beneath this form. 

“Are you regretting your curiosity?”

“I guess… seeing you this way makes me a little… shy,” you said, though you didn’t believe your own answer.

Before you could say more, his mouth was on yours, fierce and reassuring. It took the air right out of your lungs. You barely had time to recover before he started trailing softer kisses along your jaw, then down your neck, leaving a path of warmth in their wake. 

“Shy?” he repeated against your skin, “After all we’ve done, you’re still shy?” He slid his hand up your sides, tangling his fingers between the fine silk. “You may be skilled at keeping secrets but not from me. Tell me the truth, my sweet.” 

You opened your mouth to respond but you couldn’t stop your back from arching at his touch, which was very much an invitation for him to tear off the delicate fabric from your body. When he did, it left your chest exposed to his hungry gaze, earning him a small gasp and a deep ache pooling between your legs. 

“You’re so small in my hands,” he mused, fingers tightening around your throat for a brief moment. "And yet… you offer yourself so willingly."

You had offered yourself to a god.

You had offered yourself to a god.

“Do you understand what you’re doing?”

A shudder tore through you as he took both breasts into his hands and sunk his teeth between them, leaving you little marks made from canines you had never seen before. When you suddenly felt his hard bulge pressing against your core, you realised the towel around his waist had already been discarded. How could you even respond to him?

“This excites you, doesn’t it?” He murmured into the crook of your neck, grinding against you. He didn’t give you a chance to speak when he pried your legs open with one knee. “Have I ever told you how intoxicating you smell when you’re like this?” 

Harder than before, he bit into your neck and you found your fingers tugging on his hair.

“You can… smell me—?”

“I can sense you,” he corrected, “And I know exactly what you want from me." You could certainly tell he was pleased with himself yet instead of pushing you away, it only drew you in further.

With a single motion, you hooked your finger around the pin holding his ponytail in place, and pulled—freeing his hair so it cascaded down over his toned muscles.

He looked perfect. Divine. It was your way of confirming what he already knew—that you wanted this, wanted him.

Zhongli’s eyes glowed in the dim light and there was no mistaking the godly aura of Morax residing in him. The air seemed heavier under the weight of his presence. You were suffocating.

A deep growl elicited from his chest as he pushed the tip of his cock against your underwear, teasing your entrance. You whimpered at the way he bullied you, desperately pulling him in for another feverish kiss to satisfy at least one need.

This one was hungrier, messier. His groan vibrated through your mouth as his carbon-black hand slid back to your throat, squeezing just enough to make you gasp for air. 

Each twist and flick of his tongue felt like a silent demand: Give in. Yield.

In this state, a picture cleared. Zhongli's hands were everywhere—tangled in your hair, between the valley of your breasts, dipping into the areas you ached the most. This side of him was primal, gluttonous, and possessive. Every touch felt forbidden—blasphemous, even. And yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to say you weren’t enjoying every sinful second of it.

Finally, Zhongli parted from the kiss, his breath heavy as his eyes stayed locked with yours. For once, he allowed himself to make you completely at his will. 

The head of his cock pressed harder against your entrance, the flimsy barrier of your silk underwear doing little to dull the intensity of his lust. He was desperate to feel the warmth inside you. You were already soaked, and he knew it—he could feel it, smell it, and it drove him wild.

“My dear,” he said, sound impatient now, “you know I admire you, right?”

“I do,” you replied too quickly.

“Good. Because I don’t want you to be mistaken.”

“What do you mea—”

Before you could finish, he pulled your underwear to the side and let his cock glide against your folds. Your hips moved with him, coating his shaft with your wetness, and that was enough for him to forget about taking it slow. Groaning, he shoved his blunt tip inside you and it left your thighs trembling. Your body felt like it was on fire, jerking back as his length stretched you out, your fingers gripping the sheets tightly, “Oh my—” you gasped.

Had it been that long since you last did this, or was this form accompanied by godly… benefits?

With his head thrown back in sheer pleasure, he let out a throaty grunt, almost salivating at the way your walls pulsed around him—like your body had been made just for him. Somehow, sex felt even better in this form and it had him feral enough to hold the sides of your hips, fingers digging into your flesh to anchor himself between your legs. “That’s it,” he growled, “Take every inch.” 

He started thrusting—hard—the sound of skin meeting skin echoed off the walls. Your breasts bounced in rhythm, and he was so entranced by the sight he could cum on the spot. Every second, he was ripping moan after moan out of you as he fucked you into the mattress. 

“Morax,” you called out, your voice shaking while he pumped in and out of you relentlessly, “So… good. I want more…” You ran your hands across his chest, feeling the quickening of his breath. His face shifted into a predatory look and you realised that he was losing himself as much as you.

“Then come here,” he groaned through gritted teeth, spoken exactly like someone who had never been defiled.

He didn’t wait for you to respond. Instead, he flipped you to your stomach, left your ass in the air and your legs hanging off the bed—your toes barely even touching the floor.

You braced yourself for his unyielding pace, but he surprised you with a tender kiss on your shoulder, “Tell me if it’s too much.”

The unexpected affection made your heart swell so you wiggled against his crotch, inviting him for more. He chuckled, almost pityingly, knowing full well what he was about to do next.

You couldn’t even catch your breath before he pushed back inside you, hissing as he indulged in your warmth. You swore you were well-behaved but somehow this felt like a punishment. He, who was so deceptively gentle a moment ago, found your hair and tugged it into his fist, drawing a sharp yelp from your lips.

Once he started moving at the same unforgivable pace, each thrust forced his name out of your mouth. “M-Morax— Mor–ax,” you were barely coherent and it riled him up the more you said it. It surely wasn’t the first time hearing someone call him that but in this context, he wasn’t going to make it his last—especially if it was you.

"Is this what you wanted?" he growled, his voice resonant, like the rumbling of the earth itself. 

“Y-Yes…”

Although, you weren’t sure what you expected when you asked to see his form but you knew what you were receiving now was the primal strength of something foreign to you.

His heavy cock stretched you so deliciously, filling you so completely that every nerve in your body screamed with pleasure. You clawed at the sheets as you creamed rings around his base and the wooden bedframe groaned with each erratic thrust.

His movements were undeniably getting sloppier and his breaths came in short, guttural huffs. “Feel- how- deep I am inside- you?” he rasped, punctuating each word with a sharp snap of his hips. “You’re taking it so well.” You couldn’t see it but you heard a grin dancing behind his voice as he pushed deeper.

Your feet were lifting off the ground with each thrust, leaving your ass stinging from the relentless pounding. When you felt his free hand snake around to cup your breast, fingers squeezing your sensitive nipple, you practically melted. “Thank you… Ple—,” you whined, the only words you could really manage.

But that was enough for him.

Zhongli’s grip on your hair tightened as he pulled, forcing your head back while his other hand dug into the soft flesh of your breast. The pain mixed with pleasure sent your vision into a blur of white. It shouldn’t feel this good but you could feel your orgasm coming despite being nothing but a ragdoll in his powerful hands. 

His body trembled as he chased his release, each thrust growing more urgent as he drove into your G-spot. Every stroke sent waves of pleasure through your body until finally, your climax hit like a tidal wave. Letting go of your hair, you collapsed against the mattress. It was too much so it left you biting into the sheets, a cry ripping from your throat as your pussy clenched around him, milking his cock with each spasm. “I-I’m—ahhh—cumming!”

“Just like that,” he groaned while your body tightened, savouring the way your body responded to every thrust. He was unable to think about anything else aside from the feeling of your muscle clenching and pulsating, “So tight—keep going. You’re perfect like this.”

With one final snap of his hips, you felt him pulse between your walls, his balls tightening as he emptied deep inside you. Thick ropes of hot milky cum filled you, his cock twitching as he buried himself to the hilt. Your name rolled off his lips in a low, drawn-out grunt that was raw and animalistic, a sound that made you delirious enough to go another round just to hear it again. 

Even after he finished, he stayed pressed against you, fucking his cum back into you with lazy, satisfied strokes, filling you over and over until there was nothing left to give. 

“I’m… full,” you whispered shakily, still feeling every inch of him inside you.

“Are you alright, my dear?”

Yes and no. If getting tossed around meant you were fine, then sure.

"I'm okay," you breathed.

"Good girl."

When he finally pulled out, you went completely limp, rolling onto your back while a thin layer of sweat left your skin glowing.

You could feel Zhongli doing the same, his body mirroring yours as you both lay there, chests heaving, struggling to catch your breaths. After a moment, you turned to face him, both of you blinking at each other under the light.

“This… wasn’t what I meant when I said show me one of your forms,” you managed to say. 

“Are you complaining?” 

You let out a soft sigh as you stared up at the ceiling. Even after all this, he hadn’t lost his sarcastic sense of humor. “No,” you admitted, feeling warmth creep into your cheeks. “It’s just that… well, I think I might’ve enjoyed you—the real you—a little more than I expected. A little more than what’s appropriate, perhaps.”

You couldn’t help but dance around the memory of all the offerings you’d given Rex Lapis throughout your life. Was this his gift in return?

“Oh? Pray tell, what is it that you enjoyed so much?”

You hesitated but the way he looked at you made it impossible not to answer. 

 “I liked… the way you moved…" you felt slightly embarrassed to continue but he nodded for you to go on, "You were rougher on me, but it made me want more…”

While you spoke, you noticed subtle changes in him. His pupils began narrowing into thin slits, and his golden irises seemed to glow with an ethereal light. The sharpness of his fangs became more pronounced, peeking between his lips. His fingers, which had been tracing circles on your arm, now felt a little sharper, almost claw-like.

“And… your strength,” you gulped as you watched his transformation. “It was… overwhelming. I couldn’t resist it but I didn't want to. I felt safe.”

A low, rumbling growl emanated from his chest, his hand sliding possessively to your waist. It made your stomach flip.

“If that’s the case,” his voice was deeper now, almost a purr as his newly revealed tail coiled around your thigh. He leaned closer, his breath hot against the shell of your ear. 

“Why are you trembling?”

© 2024 grimmweepers — do not repost, copy, translate, modify my work on any platform

dividers: @/astrumaur

[velvetcrimsonkisses]

Playing a game with Sukuna

“Sukuna..” You call out, the old wood floor creaking under your every step. Walking through the house felt like a different realm. Sukuna’s realm.

The air is thick with an oppressive silence. The beast nowhere to be seen in the total darkness. The unsettling creaks of heavy footsteps run through the house. You can sense him, but you can’t see him.

“Sukuna… this isn’t funny anymore,” You call out again, your voice echoes in the old house.

Stomp

Each step sounds like a warning. You were about to be caught.

The corridor seems to grow narrower as your mind begins to spiral. The walls begin to feel like they’re closing in, as a chill runs down your spine. You feel those eyes on you. Tracking your every movement as you hastily make your way back to the room where the “game” started. Where he should’ve been. Where he should be.

You quickly open the door and like you presumed. He wasn’t there.

You hurriedly try to find the restraints he was in. Discarded on the floor you pick them up. Your face contorts to the image of disgust when you realize there’s slobber all over them.

“What an animal, he bit thru them…” You mumble under your breath, throwing the rope back on the floor.

You decide to head back out the room. Once again feeling the presence of unseen eyes watching you, just waiting to strike.

Stomp

Sharp fingernails run up your back, digging into your skin, a mix of pain and thrill take over your body. Red eyes glowing with a sinister light, fixating on you with an unnerving intensity. He finally got you.

Sukuna is like an apex predator. He liked to work for his prey. He loved lurking in the shadows of the house, his eyes filled with a malevolent intensity that always made you freeze. Not in fear but with desire. There’s no sane explanation why you both enjoyed this, not that you'd ever admit it to him. Maybe it's the way his fangs glistened in hunger for you, or how every muscle on his body ripples with power and precision, or his aura dominating every environment.

You know he would never actually hurt you, and if he did it wouldn’t last very long…

“I told you to run…” he questions with a low, menacing growl as he appears behind you. Three large arms capture you, the fourth wrapping around your neck. “Those pretty legs don’t take you far…” He mumbles, lips pressed right to your ear.

“I wasn’t trying to run..” He loosens the grip on your neck as you speak, pressing eager kisses to your neck and jawline. “I was trying to find you.”

“Were you now?” a menacing grin spreads across his face, one of his vast hands trails down your stomach, sliding under the waistband of your shorts. You close your eyes at the ticklish feeling.

“That scent…” he bites into your neck. “Your arousal smells divine,” He grunts, his nails trace your entrance.

He slides one finger in, focusing on the small bundle of nerves that he knows makes you crumble under his touch. Still using two hands to hold your body up, he begins rubbing it in small circles, spreading your slick all through your folds. An amused smile paints his face, as he finally enters a digit into you.

Long and thick fingers pump deep inside you. Fingers that are no match for the human body but, here you were taking them so well. Just for him. He plunges his fingers deeper, curling them to hit that sweet spot inside you. He stares at the beautiful faces you make as you take him. Wishing he could freeze them forever. Sukuna never thought he could derive such pleasure from pleasuring someone else but here was. With his sweet mortal that he swears he doesn’t care about.

“I can feel you tightening around my fingers,” he chuckles darkly, his red eyes glinting with a sadistic pleasure. “Make more of those pathetic noises,” he commands you, digging his nails deeper into your hot skin.

The pleasure is almost unbearable, tears start to form in your eyes, threatening to fall down your red cheeks. Sukuna notices the tears and you can almost see the satisfaction on his face. He finds pleasure in making you cry, and you knew this. Feeling his cocks get hard behind you, poking into your back which results in you arching against his body.

His eyes darken with desire, eager for your orgasm. He feels you clench his fingers tighter. “Close are you now?” he teases, picking up his pace. Moving faster, harder, and deeper inside you. His thumb grazing over your clit with just enough pressure to drive you crazy. “Fall apart for me, I got you.”

And you do. Finally reaching your orgasm, he holds your body up and you let it wash over you. He continues rubbing your clit, allowing you to enjoy the full effect of it until you’re a trembling mess beneath him. You watch him lick his fingers clean of your essence as you try to catch your breath. He finally removes his arms from around you slowly, ready to catch you if you stumble.

“Go hide again…”

[lxndonorris]

Chocolate- Charles Leclerc

Y/N x Charles Leclerc Theme: Smutish, Teasing, light touching Charles is your best friend and you're joining him in Australia. However, Pierre pranks the two of you with some spicy chocolate x word count: 1930+ taglist: @game-set-canet mentions of Pierre :P requested by anon :) feel free to request in my askbox gif by me

The scorching Australian sun beats down on the bustling Melbourne Grand Prix Circuit, where the roar of Formula 1 engines fills the air. Among the throngs of racing enthusiasts, you stand nervously, your heart pounding with excitement. Charles, your best friend and Ferrari's star driver, invited you to spend the weekend with him at the track, a dream come true for any racing fan.

As you stand inside the Ferrari garage, Charles flashes you a mischievous grin. "Ready to cheer for me?" he asks, his eyes sparkling brightly. 

"Absolutely," you reply, barely able to contain a giggle. "I can't thank you enough for this opportunity, Charles." 

"That's what friends are for, right?" He says, running a hand across his chest to button up his racing suit, getting ready to jump into his race car.

He zooms out of the garage and onto the track, while you watch the screen with a mix of excitement and nervousness. To calm your nerves, you brought yourself some chocolate from Charles' motorhome. He told you he got them from Pierre earlier today, and both of you enjoyed a bar before this training session—it tastes so good.

As you wait for Charles to finish his last training session for the weekend, the anticipation bubbles within you, heightened by the thrill of the fast-paced racing world.

Clad in his Ferrari shirt and cap, you feel a strange sense of exhilaration coursing through your veins, mingling with the nervous excitement that pulses beneath the surface.

When Charles finally emerges from his car, his presence seems to command the entire paddock. His aura is magnetic, drawing you in with an irresistible force. In one swift motion, his helmet and balaclava come off, revealing a face flushed with exhilaration. 

He exchanges a few words with his mechanics, his focus on the training still evident in his demeanor. But then, as if drawn by an invisible force, his gaze finds yours.

His expression softens slightly as he runs a hand across his chest firmly, stroking himself through his racing suit. Charles licks his lips before turning his attention back to the conversation.

A tingling sensation erupts in your belly, sending shivers down your spine when he approaches you. As Charles closes the distance between you, palpable energy seems to radiate from him, his every movement infused with a magnetic charm that is impossible to resist. Time seems to slow down; everything around you is out of focus; just Charles remains the center of attention.

A confident swagger in his step, he exudes waves of effortless allure, seemingly pulling everyone's eyes on him. With casual grace, he runs a hand through his tousled hair, the strands falling back into place with practiced ease.

His touch lingers on his beard, his fingers tracing the sharp lines of his jawline before trailing down to his chest, where they linger for a moment longer.

You can't tear your gaze away, captivated by the sight of him and the way his features seem to be sculpted by the very hands of a divine artist. His confidence is intoxicating, drawing you in like a moth to a flame.

"How was I?" He asks, his words washing over you in a warm embrace. 

"Simply amazing." You smile as your skin heats up rapidly. Your face flushes with color, nearly as bright as your Ferrari shirt.

"Thank you; the car was so good." Charles remarks with a coy smile forming on his lips. "It felt amazing, like it let me do all that I wanted."

Despite your best efforts to concentrate, your attention keeps drifting, drawn inexorably to every nuance of his being. His lips move with fluid grace, forming each word with precision, and you can't help but be mesmerized by their subtle curve.

His beard, perfectly groomed yet with a hint of ruggedness, frames his jawline with an undeniable allure. As his fingers trail along it, you feel a surge of longing wash over you; the desire to reach out and touch the softness bristles alomst overwhelming.

But it is his hands that truly capture your attention—strong and calpable yet gentle in their touch. Every movement is deliberate, and each gesture imbued with a quiet confidence.

And then there are his eyes, pools of endless depth that seem to hold the entire universe within their gaze. They sparkle with warmth and mischief, drawing you in even closer.

Then, however, he leans in to whisper in your ear. "You look so good in that shirt," he breathes, his voice low and husky, sending shivers down your spine. "Almost as good as me out there on track, huh?" 

You chuckle nervously, the air crackling with tension as you struggle to keep your composure. Charles' newfound flirtatiousness is both exhilarating and unnerving, stirring emotions within you that you had never dared to acknowledge.

His hands brush over yours before he separates himself, a knowing smirk forming on his lips as his eyes roam all over you again.

One of his mechanics calls him over, leaving you alone with your thoughts. Charles has been your friend for years now, and you can't deny the attraction you feel to this beautiful man, but this comes out of nowhere.

Later, you make your way back to his motorhome. The atmosphere grows increasingly charged, thick with unspoken desire. With each step, you find yourself drawn to Charles, unable to resist the magnetic pull that draws you closer together.

Inside his quarters, the air was heavy with anticipation, the silence punctuated only by the sound of your racing hearts. The scent of his cologne is all around you as Charles moves with fluid grace, his movements mesmerizing as he sheds his racing suit.

You watch, transfixed, as he lets the upper half of his suit hang down his waist, exposing his tight fireproofs that hug his form. Like a second skin, its fabric clings to his skin, and you can't help but admire the way they accentuate every contour of his muscular physique. Despite their attempt to conceal his strength, his powerful frame is unmistakable.

With causal ease, he flexes his arms, the fabric stretching taut against the bulging muscles beneath. You gasp silently as he stretches and moves, showing off his beautiful form.

But it is when he runs a hand over himself, stroking firmly along the curves of his chest and abdomen, that you find yourself unable to tear your gaze away. The sight is hypnotic, a tantalizing display of masculinity that leaves you breathless with desire.

Caught in the act of staring, you feel a blush creep into your cheeks as Charles' eyes meet yours. But instead of embarrassment, there is a playful twinkle in his gaze.

"Like what you see?" He winks, a mischievous grin quirking the corners of his lips as he teases you with a knowing look.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to." You raise your hands slightly, but he doesn't mind you watching him.

"I don't know. I'm so horny right now." He lets out a low moan that gives you goosebumps. 

Unable to suppress the surge of desire that courses through your body, you close the distance to him, your hands trembling as they reach out to touch him.

His body is warm beneath your fingertips, eliciting a soft gasp as your boidies collide in a frenzy of longing. As your hands venture forth, a hesitant yet undeniable curiosity guiding its path, you feel warmth and a tingling sensation run through you. 

Charles stands before you, his chest rising and falling with each steady breath, the fabric of his fireproofs offering little resistance to the exploration that lies ahead.

With a tentative touch, you allow your fingers to trace the contours of his chest, feeling the firmness of his muscles beneath the thin barrier of fabric. Each ridge and curve elicits a soft gasp from you and an even softer yet guttural moan from him.

Charles breath hitches at the touch, his gaze locked with yours in a slient exchange of longing and desire. Emboldened by his response, you press your hand firmer against him, reveling in the sensation of his warmth seeping through his clothes.

His muscles ripple beneath your touch, a testament to the strength and athleticism that define him as a professional racing driver. And yet, beneath the surface, there is a vulnerability, a rawness, that speaks of the humanity within him.

"It feels so good," he growls, and places his hands on your waist, holding you close.

In the heat of the moment, you lean in, and your lips meet in a hungry kiss, the world around you fading into insignificance. But just as your passion reaches its zenith, a sudden sound shatters the intimacy of the moment.

Startled, you break apart, your gazes locking in shared disbelief as you turn to see Pierre standing behind you, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. His laughter echoes through the motorhome, mingling with the stunned silence that envelopes you.

"It looks like someone's been busy," Pierre teases, unable to contain his amusement.

Embarrassment floods through you, your cheeks burning as you struggle to find the words to explain the situation. But Charles simply chuckles, his arms wrapping around your waist in a protective gesture.

"Thanks for the chocolate, Pierre," Charles says with a wry grin, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Looks like they had quite the effect."

Confused, your gaze shifts between them, trying to make sense of the situation. Then, you notice him brandishing a box of chocolates with an impish grin. 

Pierre's grin widens, a twinkle of mischief dancing in his eyes. "My pleasure," he replies. "I must say, if I weren't taken, I'd be falling for either of you. You both look so good."

You can't help but giggle at his remarks, even though you're still slightly confused, as the warmth of embarrassment creeps into your cheeks.

"Oh, Pierre, you're naughty," Charles chimes in, his laughter joining yours. "But I suppose I can't argue with you there."

Pierre approaches you, the box of chocolates held out in offering. You accept it, and your eyes fall on it right away. 

"Spice up your life with our new aphrodisiac chocolate bars." You read to yourself and pout, "Really, Pierre?"

Pierre's hand lands on Charles' firm chest, a playful pat that elicits a low growl from him.

"Aren't you just the heartthrob of the paddock?" He teases, his hand stroking Charles' chest a few times, before Charles nudges him with his elbow.

"You're unbelievable, Pierre," he says, shaking his head with a shy smile. 

Still feeling the effect of the chocolate coursing through his veins, Charles can't resist the urge to indulge in a bit of self-admiration. With a smirk, he strokes his own chest, his movements mirroring Pierre's teasing gestures.

Sensing the playful energy in the room, you join in on the fun, nudging Pierre playfully as well. 

He giggles in response, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he returns the gesture.

"I think I should leave you to it then." Pierre licks his lips. "You can keep the chocolate." He smirks and shrugs before leaving the motorhome.

As his laughter fades away and you are left alone once more, a comfortable silence settles between Charles and yourself.

Finally, he breaks the silence, his voice soft yet filled with sincerity. "You know, it felt good to hold you close like that," he admits, his gaze meeting yours with a hint of vulnerability.

You nod, feeling a warmth spreading through you at his words. "Yeah, it did." You agree, unable to suppress the smile that tugs at the corner of your lips.

[nmakii]

i saw u were taking requests! uhmmm, i had this thought just recently; you know how in the v first ep of hh where alastor kinda runs his fingers up his staff thingie? well, That but him doing it to reader instead teehee 🤭

YOUR SWEET RADIO DEMON!

— on a date with alastor, he gets unusually possessive and jealous

— I SAW THIS ANDIMMIDEITYYL HAD TO WRITE IT

as infamously known by hotel residents and staff, alastor loves to invade others’ personal space; pulling them uncomfortably close, touching their faces— it’s the sheer entertainment to see them writhe uncomfortably under his harsh touch, knowing that he could make them disappear right now if he wanted to.

but, he especially likes to touch you, his dear. your puffy baby cheeks, your big eyes, your resting pout on those pretty lips; you’re simply just adorable, he could eat you up!

he has to admit, you’re also divinely gorgeous, what if other overlords try to steal you away from him? of course, no one would even compare to him, much less dare to… but, he must be cautious in case some egotistical sinner thinks that they’d be able to court you.

he’d thought about marking you, perhaps on the neck, but doing that would include unsightly deeds that he wouldn’t want to indulge in…

so then, he decided to do the next best thing; have you accompany him as a companion through his day. keeping you with him as he does his overlord duties, an arm safely around your waist. and, in return, he spoils you with lovely gifts of top-notch quality.

of course, there are better solutions to satiate his possessive behavior… but, this is the one that both of you find most enjoyable.

on one of these days, alastor followed you inside as the two of you went on a date to lu-lu world, taking you on all of the thrilling rollercoasters. to be quite honest, he had a fun time, albeit all the tacky circus decor throughout the place.

while at one of the game booths, you threw the bean bag, hoping to score some points. alastor used his shadow to pull it into the hole, making absolute sure you win.

the gamemaker’s jaw fell in awe, never usually having anyone beat the game. “lovely game, my dear! i believe there is a prize that was won?” alastor looked at the demon gamemaker who hurriedly brought a large lamb-like plushie, styled after charlie’s bodyguard, dazzle.

after all of that, the red skies of hell grew dark as nightfall came. you and alastor walked to the exit before you ran into a specific man.

“oh..! what are you doing here?” lucifer asked, slightly pointing his staff towards you, his face contorting to annoyance as he looked at alastor.

“alastor and i are on… um…” you wandered off, a little embarrassed to explain. “we’re on a date, of course!” alastor announced as he pulled closer to him by your shoulder, his fingers moving behind you to dance on your skin.

your posture straightened, subconsciously trying to move away from the ticklish feeling moving itself up on your spine. “i’d say the better question is what is a man such as yourself doing here alone, hm?” alastor glared down at him.

“well, for one— i own the place.” lucifer frowned back at alastor. “very well, then. we’ll see you around, i suppose!” alastor sighed, pulling you immediately away from lucifer and not even giving him the chance to bid farewell.

as alastor pulled you away, you saw his smile getting strained. “are you ok? why were you—“ “what was that about, my love? why did you not tell him yourself that we were on a date?” you asked before alastor interrupted, the radio static over his voice getting louder the more irritated he got.

your eyes avoided his as you searched your mind for an answer. “ah… well…” you bit your lip, stalling yourself as you came up with a reason.

“is it because you’d rather go on a date with him instead?” he snarled, his eyes clearly frustrated. “would you rather be with that lonely man? all he ever does is make rubber ducks!” he sighed, his jealousy ruining his composure.

“what?!” you frowned. “no… it’s just that… it’s a little embarrassing to explain things to other people. i also got a little flustered because i didn’t expect to see him here… i love you, alastor, promise…” you pouted, leaning your head on his chest

he sighed, satisfied with your response as he put a hand on your head. “good. because you’re mine, dear. don’t ever forget that. and, if you do…” alastor started before his hand once again moved to your spine, two fingers tickling your skin as they danced their way to the nape of your neck.

“agh, stop that!” you whined. “that tickles… don’t worry, i’m all yours.” you shook your head, baffled by the extent of his jealousy. “very good… i love you too, my dear.”

[thesassypadawan]

Repent (Don X FemReader)

Summary: Your pastor takes notice of your new sinful tattoo and gives you but one option for repentance.

Warnings: 18+ (mdni), because there’s sooo much of the smut. Pastor/Religion kink, hint of a breeding one, womb tattoo, implied age gap, and… Don’s big, girthy dick.

Notes: Notes: Happy Kinktober all you, lovelies! 🖤🧡

- “Please, stop by the sanctuary before the party starts.  I would like to speak with you…privately.”  The pastor’s calm, even voice rang throughout your mind; his request hanging heavy on it.

- You would be lying if you didn’t admit that you found the older gentleman handsome.  The way his blue eyes sparkle when he’s speaking passionately, how his smile lights up a room.  And his mustache; the very thought of it, all it could possibly do sends a small thrill run down your spine.  Causes a warmth rise into your cheeks, settle in your…

- Grazing your palm over your lower stomach, you quietly slip through the old oak doors.  Vision taking a moment to adjust to the dimly lit, candle filled space.  Before you silently and stealthily walk up the aisle, towards the alter…and him.

- Gaze sweeps, takes in the sight of your outfit.  “Don’t you make a lovely little angel,” he chuckles softly.  Resting his large hand gently on your arm, thumb rubbing soothing circles into your skin.  “Like you dropped down straight from heaven.”  Lips curling slightly at the corners in amusement or perhaps…

- “Th-thank you, sir,” you reply meekly.  Trying to hide how flustered you were becoming.  How your heartbeat quickens when he trails his fingers, traces over and along where your womb resides.  “But I’m…I’m sure you d-didn’t ask me here to just talk about my cost-costume.”

- “Clever girl.”  Moving in closer, towering above you.  “I noticed something interesting earlier today; a very intricate, heart shape tattoo that you apparently have.”  Don presses his prominent bulge against your side, grinding subtly.  “The one right here…”

- Nails sink in as he squeezes, kneads your sensitive skin through the sheer fabric.  “It’s supposed to represent a ‘curse’, isn’t it?”  Before his hand descends further; digits ghosting, cupping your plump mound.  “One for extreme fertility.”

- “I…I…”  You stutter, stumble with your words.  Body trembling, humming from his taboo touch.  The fires of hell burning hot, bright in your blasphemous core.  “I…can explain…”

- Slouching slightly; warm breath fans, wiry hairs tickle.  “It’s a sin to dabble in the occult…”  Teeth graze, tongue licks your earlobe in a long stripe.  “Perhaps I can help you repent…”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

- Desperate moan bubbles up from your throat as you wriggle, writhe.  Back arching, nails scratching lightly at the worn wood of the alter floor.  Pressure building, propelling you towards the edge once more.  “Please, I…I…”

- Weakly you clamp your plush thighs around Don's head, hips rolling forward.  Impaling yourself further, divine nectar spilling onto his skilled tongue.  “For-forgive me, my lor-lord…”

- Sticky digits grip, spread you open before him.  Flesh tender, an angry red; brushed, scrapped.  Stinging when the cool, faintly scented air kisses your burns…when he lets a fat glob of spit of drip, seep into the fresh cuts.  “He'll forgive you, my little imp…”

- Slick covered lips map their way up your vulnerable form.  Sucking, nipping…biting; leaving an array of dark purple splotches in their wake.  Groaning at the sound of your pathetic mewls and squeaks.  “Look past your rash decision…” 

- Hands tighten their hold; hitching, wrapping your stubby legs partially around his thick middle.  Bulbous tip prodding, smearing pre on your swollen folds.  Mixing and mingling with your juices, creating an unholy concoction.  “Absolve you of your follies…”

- Fingers trace over and along the inked lines.  “But not until you give yourself entirely to me…”  Squeeze, knead your soft paunch.  “Pledge that each child you bare from this perfect womb will be mine…”

- “Yes, I swear,” you whisper, vow.  Tears of pleasure, pain…of joy, sorrow streaming freely.  “My mind, soul, body.”  While you gaze up into the lifeless, stony eyes of the mother.  “Everything that I am is wholly yours.”

- “Amen…”  Your new husband,  co-creator of your future forbiden fruits mutters reverently, solemnly.  Thrusting forward; tearing, ruining…molding you into his own resplendent  image, his own earthbound angel.

Tag List: @espinathena-17, @myheartwillgoon2022, @laylaplease, @princessswifie, @kenobiskywalker16, @loverforoldermen, @speaknow-sw, @mathesonlvr, @decaffeinatedunicorn, @ann4zw, @xhunnybeeex, @jediavengers, @anisangeldust, @fredswrite, @t03soup

[the-newlymadeweeb]

Sacrifice [part 2]

Pairing: Luke castellan x female!reader

Description: a prequel to Sacrifice pt. 1, you held up the sky for long and Luke could see the toll it was taking so he goes ahead luring Annabeth to take your place, after all he's just trying to take care of you.

A/N: when I wrote Sacrifice, I did it in fifteen minutes nto thinking much of it. But I like the concept of it ngl. In all fairness, angst is like my thing and writing angsty toxic Luke is my fav rn.

Sacrifice pt 1:

Luke's shoulders ached, his back felt almost crooked from the weight of the sky. He felt a twinge of sympathy for Annabeth but right now she was the lesser of his concerns.

The woman at the forefront of his mind being you.

You who swung from consciousness to unconsciousness for the last three days; the strength from your body sapped out and a constant pain ripping through you. Your wrists were wrapped up in bandages to support them and the large expanse of bruises on your shoulders were being iced.

The nectar and ambrosia he was taking to you felt like a meagre offering, a minimal solution.

This whole ploy was a sheer debacle. He could've lost you.

Everything was taking too much time. Anyway, it didn't matter now.

You were out of immediate danger, he could take care of you. Just like he always swore to. He'd show you how much he cared, that you still mattered and ha had it all under control and all the doubts he knew you were beginning to have weren't necessary.

Your hair had greyed significantly, more than his had; though that was to be expected with how much more time you had spent in Atlas' position.

He sidled up to your sleeping figure, sheltered away from the eyes of titans and soldiers– protected; and reached out to caress your face, over the course of these days, he had developed a small routine now.

First, he picked up the washcloth and basin that a son of Asclepius who was in charge of handling injuries had dutifully kept. He could tend to your wounds and the other demigods, but you were still under Luke's care. Always.

Cleaning up your face first, before gently wiping down your arms, mindful of the supporting bandages and then wiping your knees, down your shins and the arch of your feet.

It felt good, being able to do something for you. After which he'd try to rouse you in a partial wakefulness as he helped you sip the divine nectar, watching the magic liquid give you some strength.

For a little while, Luke had been worried. For all your amazing traits, he believed you to be more simple-minded; in your mind, you were the first that should be sacrificed because of your dedication and devotion towards your loved ones. Now, he never thought of your loyalty to be mindless like a dog's but he always believed that it would be his.

But then after the whole Golden Fleece interaction with Percy and company, you had gotten quiet, secretive almost. Like you were deliberating helping the son of Poseidon. And he had had a sinking feeling that Kronos might order him to get rid of you, and he wasn't sure he'd be able to do that.

"Are you hiding something from me?" He'd asked one evening, quiet and sudden.

Your gaze remained unwavered as you stepped closer to him.

"No."

"You having doubts?"

"About survival?" You laughed, "I've known about the extreme likelihood of dying for a very long time." A thrilling shiver ran down his spine as you grabbed his chin.

"And still Luke, I'm here, by your side. I'm not having any doubts."

And a few days later you went and held up the sky and now he wondered if it was some unrequired act of fielty.

He brushed your grey hair back, untangling a few knots and wished your face didn't look so disturbed and in agony in sleep as it did while you were awake.

"Luke?" You mumbled.

"Yes love."

"What– how am I here?" A sudden fit of discomfort and confusion setting upon you as you forced your eyes open and tried to sit up, still half asleep but nevertheless trying to stay alert– a default demigod setting, "who's– Atlas–"

"Shh," He whispered, attempting to be soothing. Take care of you. His job. "Annabeth's got it in control."

"Anna– no!" You shoot up, weak and disoriented, "not– Luke, Luke you promised– No!"

"Shh, calm down, please," He catches your shoulder and nudges you to lie back but you remain restless and oh gods he loves you and can't lie to you but you need to remain still or you'll get hurt more.

"You promised–"

Their medic is swift in appearing with an anaesthetic type medication and they put you out succinctly, without the chance of waking for a long while.

"I know you didn't want it to go like this, my love. But I will sacrifice hundreds to keep you safe."

His heart feels heavy and he kisses your brow and cheek.

If Annabeth, Thalia or Percy or anyone is the option opposite you, he'll kill them all. You, his devoted darling, his own nectar. The repercussions always seem so inconsequential when up against you, taking care of you.

His beloved.

************

[the-travelling-witch]

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

nonnie asked: CHILDE NSFW HC HAND EM OVER DARLING PRETTY PLZ

pairing: childe x gn! reader

warnings: nsfw/ minors dni, mention of various kinks etc

this is a repost because i'm moving my nsfw works onto this blog!!

genshin impact masterlist

If it’s possible to be on both ends of the masochist/sadist spectrum at the same time at any given time, Childe is; while it absolutely gets him going to tease you and rile you up, he’s not afraid of a little pain himself; quite the opposite actually, a slight sting thrills him.

Speaking of thrill, while Childe is more on the dominant side, please challenge him for the position; he appreciates the fight and nothing boosts his ego more than making you submit after a struggle.

Playing into his sadistic nature, seeing fat tears roll down your cheeks sends chills down his spine; the sight of your watery eyes, either from pleasure or frustration, will make him coo at you (it’s all faux empathy, he’ll continue to be just as mean).

And what better way to make you tear up than making you gag around his girth? Childe’s line of work is exhausting, so having a darling partner to come home to gets him through the day. Especially if you sink to your knees in front of him and let him use your throat as he pleases.

In general, taking out his frustrations on you is not an uncommon occurrence. There’s a certain glint in his eyes when he returns to you and that’s about as much explanation you get before he manhandles you into whatever position he wants, his fingers tangled in your hair, and turns your brain to mush with rough thrusts (with prior consent ofc ♡).

On the flip side, Childe can be the softest, sappiest lover in all of Teyvat. He’s worshipping your body like it’s the most divine temple, his ocean blue eyes swirling with adoration and love. When he gets like this, he’s almost like a big puppy in needing to be close to you, not letting you go for longer than he needs to.

Childe can’t help it, he can’t stop imagining starting a family with you, doesn’t matter if it’s physically impossible for you to have children of your own or if you’re currently not planning to have them. It doesn’t hurt to dream as he fills you up to the brim, watching as his cum leaks from your twitching hole after he pulls out.

While he’ll have you any way possible, his favourite positions are taking you from behind, folding you into a mating press or watching you ride him, depending on the mood. Each angle has its own charm and Childe wouldn’t want to miss a single one.

When it comes to location, obviously no place in your shared home is safe (seriously, the sheets, the shower tiles and the kitchen counter have seen things and so have you when it’s reflected back at you from a mirror), but much like in battle, Childe is an insatiable risk taker. Whether it’s in an alleyway or under the table of a fancy restaurant, the guy can hardly keep his fingers off- or out- of you.

But unfair as he might be in the bedroom, he does not only take, oh no. In fact, he might enjoy giving oral so much so it almost becomes taking again. This man can eat you out for hours if he so pleases and you almost have to beg him to stop when he’s in one of his moods. Also, please sit on his face, he wants his face to be framed by your thighs! And don’t worry about suffocating him, if it comes that far the lack of oxygen only adds to the thrill of it all.

Thanks to his work and rigorous training, Childe’s stamina is through the roof. Chances are, your legs will be trembling and sore before he even feels a ghost of fatigue, thrusts as hard and voice as steady as at the beginning of your little session. On the same note, his recovery period is frighteningly short as well (or maybe he’s just a horndog :P).

Although, even for a man like him, not every moment is filled with excitement and wild abandon. He knows to savour the finer things in life and that includes you. So it really shouldn’t come as a surprise that he enjoys having you cockwarm him as you talk about your days or he files away paperwork. There’s something comforting about feeling your warmth wrapped around him that calms him as he peppers kisses wherever he can.

Then again, you can never quite anticipate what Childe has planned for you next. Is he going to render your legs useless by giving you as many orgasms as you can possibly take, testing your limits every time? Or is going to laugh cruelly at the sobs spilling over your lips as he ruins your high again?

One thing’s for sure, he won’t ever shut up. And you don’t want him to, so it works out in your favour. Even while talking though, his honeyed words never come without being laced in a little poison. Whether he’s spouting the filthiest fantasies and tagging on a sweet name or drawing you in with charming words just to make your face heat up in embarrassment when he calls you out, praise and degradation never stray too far from one another with Childe.

This is especially strong towards the beginning of your relationship but if you have a somewhat innocent appeal, Childe would love to corrupt you. There’s something carnal within him that goes feral at the thought of ruining your pure self and tainting you (even if you’re not all that innocent, the thought is still very appealing to him).

Playing into that, perhaps think about letting him peel away some lacy white lingerie and watch his pupils dilate like a predator’s. But it’s not just white; Childe’s not incredibly picky with which garments he gets to rip off of you (don’t worry, he’ll buy you plenty more), the notion that you dressed up for him riling him up far too much to think clearly about it. Although he does make it a point to convey just how beautiful you look, either through words or actions or both.

But, in Childe’s eyes, every piece of delicate lingerie is infinitely more attractive when it shows off the marks he left on you previously. While he’s not overly jealous, he might be just a tad bit possessive, but really only a smidge. Seeing red and purple hues decorate your neck, chest, hips and thighs though is a sure fire way to land you some new ones…

Just as he can buy you an entire wardrobe of lingerie, Childe has money to throw at toys as well. You might think he would not resort to using them but that’s were you’d be wrong; he thinks they’re quite a lot of fun actually, especially when he can use them to toy with you. From teasing you to helping stretch you out, you best believe he will dedicate his time to studying the best way to make you see stars. Truly, the greatest toy buyer in Snezhnaya… (sorry, couldn’t help myself hshsh)

Last but not least, Childe has a raging size kink. Whether he’s actually physically towering over you or not, he’ll definitely impose his presence on you, crowding you against the mattress, manhandling you with so much ease you might as well be a doll. If you’re ever whimpering about him being too big and not being able to take him, you’re basically begging to have your brain fucked out.

Speaking of size… if you’re up for a challenge (and are a monsterfucker), Foul Legacy! Childe might just come out to play. From his inhumanly long tongue to the significant growth in both length and size, he’ll hardly leave you wanting. And even if that’s still not enough, is one really the limit…?

© the-travelling-witch 2023 - do not repost, translate, copy or edit

if you like my content, reblogs, comments and asks are always much appreciated ♡

➺ send in an ask to be added to or removed from my tag list

[secret-smut-sideblog]

Gold Satin Dreamer

Gale × F! Tav (named)

18+ rivalry, rough semi-public sex, dirty talk, possessiveness, aurum hot girl antics

Inviting his radiant wife to give a presentation at Blackstaff, Gale notices the longing gaze of his less than friendly colleague...

Masterlist

-

"Nervous, Dekarios?"

He leveled his gaze at his colleague. Organizing the papers on his desk for a countless time.

"If your 'betrothed' is as brilliant you've been rattling on about, I'd be nervous too." The cutting jest in his voice never tired.

The professor of Evocation had been something close to a rival at Blackstaff. The rest of the faculty waned from distracted to lovely. The head of Divination had actually come to know him as a friend, a calm presence that he sought on hectic days.

She popped her head in now. Eyes alight with excitement.

"She's just arrived, Gale."

Shit. He had planned to meet her at the gates.

"If you'll excuse me, I need to meet my wife." His voice clipped and pointed, straightening his robes.

"Oh, I'm not going to miss this. I've been greatly looking forward to meeting your accomplished spouse." He took up pace behind Gale, steps preening in their jaunt.

Gale hid his smile. Oh, he'd see soon enough.

They swept down the tower, Gale electing the long route over teleportation for his own satisfaction.

"Do you think she'd give a demonstration for my class as well?" Laurna whispered, taking up pace on his other side.

"Possibly." Hesitation bit at his words. "I don't want to push her."

"A wilting flower? I expected more from a hero of Baldurs gate."

"Ignore him. I'm sure she'd love to visit at the least."

He rounded the last stairwell, seeing her shape take form in the lobby.

Already, a small crowd had formed. She was still in her winter robes, head covered in a thick hood. But her radiance was hard smothered, and any new guest at the elusive Blackstaff Academy was regarded with great curiosity.

"Welcome, my love." He greeted her breathless, coming up to instinctually twine his hands around her hips, but remembered his setting at the last moment. Opting to take her hands instead.

"Hello, Professor." She smiled up at him, taking the remainder of his breath. "I'm tracking snow onto your pristine floors."

"Oh, pish posh." He scoffed. "Anything you track in is gracing our presence."

Fenrun snorted behind him, and Aurum's eyes flicked to his. The insufferable man fell quiet.

Immediate, he could see understanding glide across her eyes. Putting together faces to the context of his daily regailing when he would return home to her. Regarding the man with indifference.

"Oh, this must be Laurna." She turned to his ally, her hypnotic voice welcoming. Dropping her hood.

Aurum shed her cloak easily, in a lavender robe that swept behind her. Chest wrapped in a thick black band underneath.

Her golden hair unfolded behind her in a burning curtain. Just cresting above the base of her spine. Her slanted eyes lifted to stare pale otherworldly beauty into them.

He heard Fenrun take in a slow breath behind him, and felt a swelling of malicious pride in his chest.

Uncovered, she had cast the most powerful spell. And she knew it.

"Is there somewhere I could put this?" She offered sweetly, folding her cloak over her arm.

An attendant rushed forward.

"Of course, I'll keep this safe."

She smiled softly at him, handing it off graciously.

"Thank you, you're too kind." Her eyes poured serenity into the boy. He froze, the cloak nearly forgotten in his hands.

Gale smiled at him. Recognizing the same starstruck glitter in his eyes he had on that beach so long ago.

"Shall we?" She sighed, finding his eyes again. Smile twitching up in that mischievous tick that he adored.

"Oh, lets." He laughed.

She took his hand and swept forward.

Laurna chatted with her brightly as they walked. Heads turning and bodies pausing in a wave as she glided along. Her focus on her conversation and the pull of his hand.

Her power of awe never stopped thrilling his heart, but here it felt three times more potent. Swelling his chest. Peacock in his stride.

Fenrun followed behind, tail between his legs. His wounded pride not enough to disengage him from her presence.

He pointed out interesting landmarks as they passed. Speaking low in her ear. She would pause at these sights, tilting her head in interest.

At a statue of a drider, she drew forward. Softly touching along the marble.

He waited, smiling at her. There was something about touch. She always sought to feel that which caught her interest.

"My love, I'm not sure you're allowed to touch that." He teased.

"I'm being gentle." She stepped back and slid her eyes to him. "It's exquisite, and I like to touch exquisite things."

His heart jumped, knees threatening buckle.

Maybe she was too powerful.

"Where to next?" Her voice casual, sweeping back to his side.

"Ahem, if you're looking for exquisite, might I offer my classroom." Fenrun stepped forward, finally jumbling his bravado back into place.

She tilted her head at him.

"And you are...?"

Gale nearly barked out a laugh, having to smother it in a bite of tongue.

"Fenrun Deomat, Professor of Abjucation. A most esteemed welcome to you, our brilliant guest." He gave a suave bow.

She stepped forward, peering up at him. His breath held, bravado washing away again.

"Charmed. Aurum Dekarios, of Orndeir bloodline."

He stepped back, a spike of awed fear in his eyes.

She knew what that name meant. And she didn't reveal it lightly.

"Of course. A Sunlord... If you'll excuse me." His words came out rushed and breathless. Retreating back towards his classroom.

She watched him go, folding her hands behind her back. Glacial eyes cold in their follow, jaw tilted back.

"He reminds me of Lorroakan." She glanced at Gale. Her eyes returning to soft interest.

"Spot on." He tapped his nose.

She crinkled that genuine crooked smile at him, setting his heart fluttering.

"Your class?" She offered, glancing at the great clock on the wall.

"Ah! Yes!" He started, leading her by the lower back in a brisk walk.

"It was lovely meeting you, Laurna. Thank you for being a kind presence for my husband."

Laurna blushed, doing a little dance on her feet.

"It was heavenly, meeting you. You're... just as he described." Her voice soft in reverence.

Aurum waved as they departed, picking up pace with his fast clip. Long legs giving little effort.

He entered first, the usual rabble of noise picking up.

"Alright, I know you all have been very eager." He started, capturing their attention.

"Our guest speaker is here, now-" He held a stern hand in pause to the several hands that had shot in the air. "She has a very special demonstration for you all. I will remind you of your manners and the decorum befitting students of your caliber. Understood?"

A few heads nodded, eyes darting to the doorway in anticipation.

He sighed in rueful exhaustion, giving his students a loving glare. Eyes catching hers just beyond the doorway, beckoning her in a nod.

She stepped in, moving with all of the grace of a lily floating on a pond. Coming up to softly caress his hand in hers.

"Relax." She hushed, seeing the tension under his shoulders. "I agreed to do this. It's okay."

He released a tense breath through his nose, nodding. Wanting to kiss her, but settling for a squeeze of her hand.

She surveyed the gathered students with the same bright interest they studied her in.

"It's so nice to put faces to names, he speaks about you often." She began, stepping down from the podium.

Gale's breath held as she moved down to stand amongst them. Some rising from their seats, staring up at her with unabashed awe.

"Have you told them what I have planned?" Her eyes cast up to his.

"Oh, they insisted it stay a surprise."

She smiled, turning back to her flock.

"Well, this will seem lewd then." She laughed, bright wind chimes. "So bear with me."

She reached behind her, unclasping the band around her chest. Pulling it through the front of her robe. Taking a deep, satisfied breath. The false sun had been significantly cooled but still left a noticeable glow in her chest.

Several gasps rang out, those who weren't already standing rising to feet. Bodies moving forward, hands unconsciously raised to chests.

"This," She began, beckoning them to draw closer. "Is a fragment of an epic spell. How many spellcasters would you guess that takes?"

His favorite student piped up, a bright young man who reminded of a younger him. On tiptoes trying to see over shoulders.

"Hundreds!"

Her eyes caught his, smiling radiantly. She drew forward, the crowd parting for her. Taking his hand and encouraging him to the front.

"Very good. This spell took 194 spellcasters, all speaking at once."

"Now, I'd like to activate it for you."

Gale stepped forward, concern tight in his gut.

She held her palm up to him, tilting her head down in a bid of trust.

"I recovered this morning in preparation, I'll be okay." Her voice soft in assurance.

He relented, jaw still clenched. Nodding for her to continue.

"This is very dangerous magic, condensed in this way. A spell this large was never meant to be seated in a body, especially long-term." She explained, his students' eyes picking up their own concern.

"Miss?" The bright voice picked up in front of her.

"Yes?" She smiled at him. "What's your question?"

"Can I...?" He held his palm out in question.

Her smile widened, cupping her hand over the back of his.

"Of course. Tactile information is very important to me, too."

His palm settled onto her chest, letting out a little gasp.

"It's really warm!"

"It's a shard of sun." She offered, seeing the other students starting to form a line.

"Ohhh... that must hurt..." He hushed.

"It does. But not terribly."

"I'm sorry."

"You've nothing to be sorry for." She rubbed the back of his hand.

She allowed each student to take a turn, Gale's chest full to bursting with pride watching her. She was a natural with them, spellbinding effortlessly.

"Are we all prepared?" Her eyes moved over them, then up to him.

"Can you get the lights, Professor?" She winked at him.

He blushed, despite himself, and dimmed the room. Curtains magically drawn, lights snuffed out. Her bright chest the only reflection in eyes.

"Now, this spell had a very special component in its casting. You will hear more than just my voice, and it will get a little overwhelming, but do not be alarmed."

She paused, seeking understanding in the nods of heads.

"Okay, here we go."

She started in a hum, closing her eyes slowly.

Gale's eyes caught a figure who had slipped in the back, along side heads peeking in from the hall. A spike of shock when he recognized the shape in the dark.

The shard thrummed out of its stasis, pulsing out through her ribs. Her humming picking up into bright song, soaring up through the air. Light spread out through her shoulders, lifting wisps of her hair. Her voice picked up into a high sustained call, smothered light pushing out into the sunburst. A star of light hovering over her body again.

The voices came in, harmonizing into her sustained note. Following her back down through holy song. Dipping and weaving along her notes. The room filled with angelic reprieve. Climbing higher and higher.

When the church bells rang, she started to wind down. Pressing a palm to the burning light. Letting her voice drift down into a soft wail. A question, a request.

Her accompanying choir hushed with her, relenting to her call. Falling lower and lower, the sunburst retreating back under bone in response.

She closed her eyes again, ducking her head down. Moving through one more soft phrase before falling silent. Taking a steadying breath out through pursed lips as the room slowly went quiet.

He let her another moment of dark, knowing it took much more out of her than she let on. Wanting to go to her, to gather her in his arms. Decorum be damned. Then, finally, rose the lights again slowly.

"When an epic spell of this magnitude is cast," She began again, gently wiping her eyes with the edge of her thumb. "It calls on a terribly great power. It is done with intentions to gain, to control. To become something no sane person seeks."

Her eyes narrowed to deadly serious slits.

"It is a terrible thing to wield that power. It will pull the layers of your mind away. If there was any goodness in you to begin with, it will unravel it. It will unravel you to a singular goal. No matter the cost."

She palmed over her chest, speaking in a hush.

"It will feel worth it. The collateral."

The collective breath in the room was still held. Many heads now gathered, spilling in from the hallway.

"Keep mind of yourself, of your ambition. There are many great minds in this room, and that is a terrible thing to squander to the madness of that pursuit. Power like this is an insatiable, hungry thing. I promise you, it can never be fed enough. And the effort to keep it fed will destroy everything you could ever love."

"And if you still decide it's worth it?" Her voice dropped to a low warning.

"The collateral will find you."

She took one final breath out, then rose her eyes. An apologetic smile creased her face.

"Light is a heavy thing to bear. Forgive my dour presentation."

The air refilled the room, small nervous laughs picking up.

"No, the weight is warranted." The Blackstaff chimed in, drawing forward from her place in the back. "A fine lesson you've given today."

"Dismissed." She commanded easily.

The students filed out around them, tittering and waving goodbye to Aurum.

Only when the room emptied did she pick up again.

"I knew your father. I'm very sorry, Aurum."

"He was... he could have been a great man." Aurum hushed, pulling her wrapping around her chest. Gale took up behind her to attend to the hooks.

"You were a well-kept secret, I'm sorry there wasn't help for you in time. Things could have been quite different if we had gotten to you."

"I think about that often. But I'm not sure if I'd be here, as I am, with him..." Her eyes lifted to Gale's, brimming with love. "If it had gone any other way."

His heart ached, cupping her cheek softly. She leaned into his hand for a moment.

"But thank you, regardless."

Aurum smiled gently as the Blackstaff's hand rose to her chest. Pressing a soft palm.

She shuddered, her eyes squeezing for a moment before pulling away. Heavy with knowledge, giving her a sad smile.

"I must depart, but if you need to take another recovery, feel free to do so in my office. You can reach the Astral Plane there easily."

"Be well, Rosa'sune."

"Thank you. Bwaelan dro, uluvathae."

"Uluvathae, xiloscient."

He caught Fenrun's hungry eyes in the doorway, firmly fixated on her back. Giving Gale a spiteful glare, about to enter the room when the Blackstaff drew forward. Her body caging him out into the hall.

She cast Private Sanctum on the room as she left it, nodding at Gale with a knowing smile.

His ears flushed pink, but gave her a grateful smile regardless.

Aurum approached his desk, hopping up onto it. Tossing her leg over her knee.

"That wasn't too much, right? I didn't want to scare your students." Her voice falling vulnerable.

"That was... the best lesson my class has had in this room. I promise you that."

He came up to her folded legs, hand rising up her knee.

"Well, good then. Your colleagues seem lovely... for the most part."

A heat that had been simmering in his pelvis since that man's envious eyes had settled on her reared into a boil. His hand pushed up to her thigh.

"The way you denounced him. So casually..."

"What was there to appraise?" She smiled, her legs parting. Pulling him between with a loop of finger on the tie of his robes.

"A thoroughly unimpressive man. I've seen many of his ilk, and they have very little to offer."

At the word very, she cupped over his teaching robes. His half hard cock greeting her with a throb.

His hand slammed down on the wood next to her, breathing hard into her exhales.

"Keep talking." He urged. Pulling her robe down over her back. Unhooking the band once again.

"Oh, I'd love to." She purred, lifting her legs to curl around his hips.

"You know, I bet he's thinking about us in this room right now. About your hands on me."

He pulled her robe up over her hips desperately, groaning out when he saw she hadn't worn underclothes.

"Wanting to touch me like this, to see me strewn across your desk. Just outside that spell. Furious with envy."

She draped back, her breasts bouncing with the movement.

Precum pooled dangerously soon in his trousers, biting back in choppy breaths. Not even out of his clothes yet.

"Do you think he's imagining what I taste like? How wet my cunt is?"

She led him by the wrist to the heat between her legs.

He drew his fingers through her slick, leaning forward in a slump of shoulders at its power. Slowly pushing two fingers inside her.

She shuddered, arching back on his desk. Ribs rising into a curl as he pumped into her. Her voice coming out in needy moans.

"He could never be this good. No one could fuck me as good as you."

His eyes squeezed shut, focusing through the overwhelming drive in his pelvis. Nearly cumming in his pants. Realizing with haste that he couldn't bear much longer. Pulling quickly out of his trousers.

He slipped his fingers out and filled her with his cock in a fast thrust. Rocking her back on the desk.

She moaned out, legs curling.

"Please, harder. I want it to hurt. I want him to see me limp out of this room."

He nearly crumpled, his voice coming out in a desperate sound of affirmation. Flipping her onto her belly. Her full ass curling up high into his hands.

He slammed into her, bracing a flat hand on her lower back. Holding her down. The desk rattling hard under her. His body delirious with feral pleasure. The drive of his hips uncontrolled.

She gripped onto the lip of the desk above her, hips still pushing ever harder back into him. A sweet chorus of whimpers leaving her with every drive forward. Cunt starting to clench around him, a tight velvet fist constricting in a blinding suck of his cock.

"Please, please, it's so good." She moaned. "Fill me full of your cum, Professor."

He braced desperately down on her back. Needing her to cum immediately, he pulled her long hair up in a tight fist. Slapping her ass in a crack of his palm. Snapping down again and again until she came, her skin blooming red.

She arched back into him, rising on forearms. Shuddering out a cry of his name, cumming in hard tremors. Pleading cries of pleasure rushing through her throat. Cunt fluttering in rapid fire demands on his cock. Her cum pushing out in waves onto her backside with every thrust. Coating his cock as it drove into her.

She went limp under him as he lost himself. Driving into her in vicious pulses, gripping her hips in white knuckles.

"You're mine. You can only cum on my cock." He growled. Her hips squirming from the overstimulation, nodding under him.

"Yes!" She gasped out.

He fell forward onto forearms, driving as deep as he could go. Possesive wrath taking over his body, his mind.

"Mine." He growled, pushing her shoulders down into the desk. Fully holding her down, his weight and vicious drives of hips commanding her body in place.

"All for you." She gasped, going limp to his force. "To do with as you please."

"That's right." He growled, biting into her shoulders. Marking her so there was no mistake. The print of his teeth bruising into her fruit.

"You are not going to clean up when I finish. You are going to leave this building my cum running down your thighs."

"Yes! Please finish inside me!" She begged.

He gave two more long, indulgent thrusts, then lost himself. Hips driving in bursts as his cum filled her. The wrenching ecstacy driving out of him in waves. The total abandonment of control, his body gone. Her cunt clenching pulling in vicious sucking pulses.

He collapsed against her back, after shocks of shudders pushing through him. Cock throbbing inside her emptied.

"Please tell me you can come home soon." She gasped, boneless against his desk.

He laughed, kissing the bruises forming on her shoulders. "Soon. I have to run through some papers, but I'll be home to you as quickly as my magic can take me."

She let out a little dissatisfied whine, twisting under him to pout up at him.

"Don't you give me that look." He huffed. His resolve suddenly hanging on by a thread. Weak to her wide eyes and plush pursed lips.

"But I missed you all day." She sighed.

His heart spilled out of his chest. Falling over her in a soft puddle.

"No. No!" He held up his finger in a point. "Bad!"

She curled a mischievous smile inside of her pout. Eyes twinkling with salacious glee.

"You're too good at pulling my strings, you menace." He laughed and kissed her tenderly, cupping her face.

"Now go on, before I lose my nerve."

"Hmm, okay!" She chirped, hopping off of his desk. Pulling her robe back over her shoulders.

"Oh, wait!" She turned as if remembering something.

Reaching between her legs under the drape of her robe, she gathered a trail of his cum from above her knee. Popping it into her mouth jovially.

"See you at home!" She lilted, giving a little wave as she turned into the hallway.

He shuddered, leaning on his desk for support. By the Weave, she will be the death of him.

~

[the-travelling-bitch]

CHILD NSFW HC HAND EM OVER DARLING PRETTY PLZ

that is one unfortunate typo jshsh

oh my, i have so many thoughts about him it’s hard to be coherent off the top of my head but i’ll try ㅠㅠ

[gn! reader]

If it’s possible to be on both ends of the masochist/sadist spectrum at the same time at any given time, Childe is; while it absolutely gets him going to tease you and rile you up, he’s not afraid of a little pain himself; quite the opposite actually, a slight sting thrills him.

Speaking of thrill, while Childe is more on the dominant side, please challenge him for the position; he appreciates the fight and nothing boosts his ego more than making you submit after a struggle.

Playing into his sadistic nature, seeing fat tears roll down your cheeks sends chills down his spine; the sight of your watery eyes, either from pleasure or frustration, will make him coo at you (it’s all faux empathy, he’ll continue to be just as mean).

And what better way to make you tear up than making you gag around his girth? Childe’s line of work is exhausting, so having a darling partner to come home to gets him through the day. Especially if you sink to your knees in front of him and let him use your throat as he pleases.

In general, taking out his frustrations on you is not an uncommon occurrence. There’s a certain glint in his eyes when he returns to you and that’s about as much explanation you get before he manhandles you into whatever position he wants, his fingers tangled in your hair, and turns your brain to mush with rough thrusts (with prior consent ofc ♡).

On the flip side, Childe can be the softest, sappiest lover in all of Teyvat. He’s worshipping your body like it’s the most divine temple, his ocean blue eyes swirling with adoration and love. When he gets like this, he’s almost like a big puppy in needing to be close to you, not letting you go for longer than he needs to.

Childe can’t help it, he can’t stop imagining starting a family with you, doesn’t matter if it’s physically impossible for you to have children of your own or if you’re currently not planning to have them. It doesn’t hurt to dream as he fills you up to the brim, watching as his cum leaks from your twitching hole after he pulls out.

While he’ll have you any way possible, his favourite positions are taking you from behind, folding you into a mating press or watching you ride him, depending on the mood. Each angle has its own charm and Childe wouldn’t want to miss a single one.

When it comes to location, obviously no place in your shared home is safe (seriously, the sheets, the shower tiles and the kitchen counter have seen things and so have you when it’s reflected back at you from a mirror), but much like in battle, Childe is an insatiable risk taker. Whether it’s in an alleyway or under the table of a fancy restaurant, the guy can hardly keep his fingers off- or out- of you.

But unfair as he might be in the bedroom, he does not only take, oh no. In fact, he might enjoy giving oral so much so it almost becomes taking again. This man can eat you out for hours if he so pleases and you almost have to beg him to stop when he’s in one of his moods. Also, please sit on his face, he wants his face to be framed by your thighs! And don’t worry about suffocating him, if it comes that far the lack of oxygen only adds to the thrill of it all.

Thanks to his work and rigorous training, Childe’s stamina is through the roof. Chances are, your legs will be trembling and sore before he even feels a ghost of fatigue, thrusts as hard and voice as steady as at the beginning of your little session. On the same note, his recovery period is frighteningly short as well (or maybe he’s just a horndog :P).

Although, even for a man like him, not every moment is filled with excitement and wild abandon. He knows to savour the finer things in life and that includes you. So it really shouldn’t come as a surprise that he enjoys having you cockwarm him as you talk about your days or he files away paperwork. There’s something comforting about feeling your warmth wrapped around him that calms him as he peppers kisses wherever he can.

Then again, you can never quite anticipate what Childe has planned for you next. Is he going to render your legs useless by giving you as many orgasms as you can possibly take, testing your limits every time? Or is going to laugh cruelly at the sobs spilling over your lips as he ruins your high again?

One thing’s for sure, he won’t ever shut up. And you don’t want him to, so it works out in your favour. Even while talking though, his honeyed words never come without being laced in a little poison. Whether he’s spouting the filthiest fantasies and tagging on a sweet name or drawing you in with charming words just to make your face heat up in embarrassment when he calls you out, praise and degradation never stray too far from one another with Childe.

This is especially strong towards the beginning of your relationship but if you have a somewhat innocent appeal, Childe would love to corrupt you. There’s something carnal within him that goes feral at the thought of ruining your pure self and tainting you (even if you’re not all that innocent, the thought is still very appealing to him).

Playing into that, perhaps think about letting him peel away some lacy white lingerie and watch his pupils dilate like a predator’s. But it’s not just white; Childe’s not incredibly picky with which garments he gets to rip off of you (don’t worry, he’ll buy you plenty more), the notion that you dressed up for him riling him up far too much to think clearly about it. Although he does make it a point to convey just how beautiful you look, either through words or actions or both.

But, in Childe’s eyes, every piece of delicate lingerie is infinitely more attractive when it shows off the marks he left on you previously. While he’s not overly jealous, he might be just a tad bit possessive, but really only a smidge. Seeing red and purple hues decorate your neck, chest, hips and thighs though is a sure fire way to land you some new ones…

Just as he can buy you an entire wardrobe of lingerie, Childe has money to throw at toys as well. You might think he would not resort to using them but that’s were you’d be wrong; he thinks they’re quite a lot of fun actually, especially when he can use them to toy with you. From teasing you to helping stretch you out, you best believe he will dedicate his time to studying the best way to make you see stars. Truly, the greatest toy buyer in Snezhnaya… (sorry, couldn’t help myself hshsh)

Last but not least, Childe has a raging size kink. Whether he’s actually physically towering over you or not, he’ll definitely impose his presence on you, crowding you against the mattress, manhandling you with so much ease you might as well be a doll. If you’re ever whimpering about him being too big and not being able to take him, you’re basically begging to have your brain fucked out.

Speaking of size… if you’re up for a challenge (and are a monsterfucker), Foul Legacy! Childe might just come out to play. From his inhumanly long tongue to the significant growth in both length and size, he’ll hardly leave you wanting. And even if that’s still not enough, is one really the limit…?

© the-travelling-bitch 2023 - do not repost, translate, copy or edit

if you like my content, reblogs, comments and asks are always much appreciated ♡

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genshin impact masterlist

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

𓅨 Eros: Chapter Five

Eros: Married to Dream of the Endless, you find yourself sent back in time to Ancient Greece where you, unfortunately, meet Oneiros. Fresh off a divorce and drowning the sorrows of his son’s death by indulging in the Panathenaia, you find yourself trapped beneath the lustful gaze of your future husband. In your defense, he seduced you first…

Warnings: Flashback of Oneiros lurking as Reader sleeps, Explicit Language, Explicit Material.

To Note: Morpheus x Wife!Reader, Time Travel, Oneiros is used for AncientGreek!Morpheus.

Word Count: ~2.9k

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Oneiros lies beside you, his body still humming with the lingering sensations of your passionate encounter. The soft glow of the room casts gentle shadows across his face, highlighting the intensity in his eyes as he gazes at you. He is lost in thought, tracing patterns on your bare skin with his fingers, his touch tender yet insistent, admiring the marks already forming upon your beautiful flesh.

“Tell me about yourself, αστέρι μου,” he murmurs, his voice a soothing melody that wraps around you like a warm embrace. The endearment, meaning "my star," rolls off his tongue with a reverence that makes your heart flutter.

You shift slightly, your mind racing with thoughts and memories you aren’t ready to share, that you can’t share. You turn your head to meet his gaze, offering a soft smile instead of an answer. “There’s not much to tell,” you reply, attempting to brush off his inquiry.

Oneiros' eyes darken with a mix of frustration and determination. “There is always more to tell,” he insists gently. “You are a mystery to me, and I wish to unravel you.” His fingers brush against your lower lip, knowing you taste divine, a forbidden fruit ripe to be devoured.

As his touch lingers on your lips, a shiver runs down your spine, igniting a fire within you that you thought had been extinguished by your prior fervent carnal passions. His words stir something deep inside, a yearning for connection that both thrills and terrifies you. You know the dangers of revealing your true self, of who you would come to be to him, yet the longing in his eyes beckons you to let down your walls. Oh how you want to tell him everything.

“I am but a simple wife, waiting to go home.” That is as close to the truth as you can get.

But Oneiros isn't satisfied with the surface-level explanation. His eyes search yours, piercing through your defenses until you feel laid bare before him. You technically already are. He can sense the inner turmoil, unspoken secrets that weigh heavy on your heart.

"You carry a burden in your soul," he whispers, his voice a velvet caress in the dimly lit room. "I can see it in the way you hold yourself, in the shadows that flicker behind your eyes." His hand moves from your lips to cup your cheek gently, his thumb brushing away a stray tear that has escaped your control.

“I am not here to relieve my burdens, my lord,” you tell him before slipping out from his hold and sitting on the edge of the bed. You stand and take a step forward, not knowing what to do. You are naked, without clothes, and have a complete mess between your legs.

Oneiros watches as you distance yourself, a mixture of understanding and frustration clouding his gaze. He knows there is a darkness that clings to you, a weight that seems to crush the light out of your very being. But he also sees the flicker of strength in your eyes, a determination that refuses to be snuffed out.

Silence settles between you, heavy with unspoken words and unshed tears. The air in the room feels charged, as if the very essence of the night holds its breath in anticipation of what will come next. Oneiros rises from the bed, his movements fluid and graceful as he approaches where you stand. His hands reach for yours as he steps up to your back. You tense as you feel his presence behind you, his warmth seeping into your skin even before his fingers graze yours. His touch is gentle, almost hesitant, as if he fears you might shatter beneath his fingertips. But there is a determination in his actions, a silent promise that he won't let you fall apart. Oneiros intertwines his fingers with yours, his touch a lifeline in the darkness that threatens to consume you.

“Indulge with me then,” he whispers, his lips brushing against your ear as the deep and silken tone of his voice makes you shiver. “Be mine, if only for the duration of Panathenaia.”

Rather than respond, you turn in place and stretch up on your toes as you bring his lips back to yours.

Oneiros stands silently in the corner of your dimly lit chamber, hidden in the shadows of the late night. The flickering light from an oil lamp casts seductive, dancing shadows across the room, teasingly illuminating your bare skin as you sleep peacefully. Outside, the distant sounds of the Panathenaia festival echo through the streets of Athens, a celebration of pleasure and indulgence. And here in this room, Oneiros can feel his own desires stirring as he gazes upon your alluring figure.

The satin sheets draped over your body glimmer under the light, revealing tantalizing glimpses of your curves and contours. Your hair cascades over the pillow like a river, framing your face in an ethereal glow. The scent of blooming jasmine fills the room from the courtyard outside, mingling with the heady aroma of incense burning in the corner. The gentle hum of nocturnal creatures provides a seductive backdrop for Oneiros' fantasies.

Each night, he is irresistibly drawn to you, unable to resist the magnetic pull you have over him. It seems as though you are intentionally avoiding him, but that only makes him want you more. As he stands there entranced by your beauty, a primal urge consumes him—a desire that is both carnal and cerebral.

He hungers for you, his gaze devouring every inch of your body beneath the sheer chiton. He longs to touch you, to claim you as his own. But he holds back, knowing that such an action would only deepen the mystery that surrounds you.

In your dreams, he finds even more enticing secrets—stories and places that hint at a future he can't fully grasp. Each night he spends watching over you only intensifies his longing for you, his need to consume every inch of you—body and soul. You are his puzzle to solve, a mysterious enigma that drives him wild with desire.

The soft breeze from the open window carries the faint scent of saltwater and distant laughter, a reminder of the festivities happening outside. But here in this room, Oneiros is consumed only by his insatiable longing for you. The slightest movement from your sleeping form causes his inner being to stir, imagining all the ways he could make you moan and writhe beneath him. And as the night wears on, the moon hanging low in the sky, Oneiros remains steadfast in his watch over you—ever lost in his dreams and desires for you.

You are in dire need of a bath, certainly after Oneiros had his way with you and left you a mess between your legs. Not that you are complaining, but you do care that a servant might see you in such a state. The mortification you’d feel! So you extricate yourself from Oneiros’ embrace and saunter towards the private baths in his grand quarters. You only have to look over your shoulder once, your eyes meeting predatory silver ones, to silently convince the Endless to follow suit.

The private baths are a luxurious escape from the bedroom, which has long since been perfumed by the smell of your activities. With a lavish marble basin filled with steaming water and fragrant oils, you let out a relaxed sigh. You choose a few of your favorite scented oils and watch them swirl into the water. Finally, you slowly step into the tub, the hot water enveloping your body and washing away the remnants of your passion. You lean back against the side of the tub, ignoring the lurking Endless.

It isn't long before Oneiros decides to join you in the bath, his dark eyes burning with desire and longing. He steps down into the water, carefully at first, as if not to disturb the bubbles that have formed atop the warm, scented water. His silver eyes meet yours over your shoulder, reflecting the faint light from the bathing chamber's candles, and you can see the heat of his desire in their depths.

In the dim light, he approaches you slowly, his muscles rippling beneath his skin as he kneels before you. His hands reach for your body, and with mere finger widths separating you, you can feel the intensity of his lust. His touch makes your skin tingle, as if he were stirring the very essence of your being. He traces his fingers along your wet shoulder, down your arm, and finally makes a loop around your wrist, gently pulling you closer.

You can't deny the intense gravity of his desire, and your own passion surges within you like a raging storm. As he brings your lips to his, you feel not just the heat of his kiss, but the primal energy emanating from his being. His tongue dances with yours, a desperate exploration of intimacy that leaves you breathless with need.

The moment your tongues intertwine in an erotic dance, you press your body closer and closer until the water around you begins to churn. Beads of water form on your flesh, and your skin seems to come alive with a shimmering, ethereal glow. Breaking the kiss, Oneiros weaves a hand into your hair and pulls your head back, his lips finding the droplets of water snaking across your flesh. He captures each droplet within his mouth, tongue running along your skin in search of more as he feasts on the nectar it holds. The sensation of his wet, warm lips and tongue savoring the remnants of the water sends shivers down your spine, making you crave more of his teases.

With your head still tilted back, he begins a slow, tender kiss along the line of your jaw, enjoying the sensation of your skin against his lips. His hands explore your curves, gently gliding from your hips to the sensitive skin at the small of your back. You sigh softly, arching your back to allow his hands full access to your body.

Oneiros' hands continue their exploration, sliding over the curves of your breasts, gently brushing over your nipples that harden under his touch. The intensity of his desire is palpable as he cups your breasts in his hands, kneading them gently while his lips trace a path from your neck down to your collarbone.

You can't help but gasp softly as his mouth moves lower, sending shivers of anticipation through your body. Your fingers tangle in his hair, nails digging into his scalp as Oneiros' tongue flicks against your sensitive nipple. The sensation is electrifying and your breath catches as he suckles on it, teasing it with his teeth in a way that heightens the pleasure to a new level.

“You better not start anything you cannot finish in the bath,” you tell him, feeling almost breathless.

Oneiros chuckles softly, his lips still dancing along the curve of your breast. "I make no promises," he replies, his voice low and seductive. "But I can assure you, I intend to pleasure you in ways you have never experienced before."

Leaning down, he continues to lavish attention on your nipples, carefully nipping and licking at them, sending waves of pleasure surging through your body. With a small gasp, your body is moved through the water until Oneiros is lounging on the seat of the bath and you stand with your back to him. You swallow thickly, your eyes staring straight ahead as devilish fingers caress your back in appreciation.

“You are true divinity,” he whispers. “Every touch, every kiss, is a gift I am honored to give and take.”

His hands move to your hips, gently pulling you backwards until you straddle him and your back is pressed against his chest. Your eyelids flutter and breaths quicken when you feel the hardness of his body pressed against your most intimate area.

Oneiros slides his arms around your waist and pulls you closer to him, holding one forearm beneath your breasts and the other so the palm of his hand lays just under your navel. His fingers begin to trace delicate patterns on your abdomen. Sweet torture. The water ripples around them as he draws, his every touch driving you to the point of madness.

"Oneiros," you gasp, arching your back and jerking a hand to cover the one on your stomach.

“Do you know how much I want you?" his voice is a husky rumble against your neck and you can feel the subtle scrape of teeth. "How much I crave your touch, your taste, your very essence?"

Oh, you have an idea, but you are also a glutton for punishment. Certainly with this side of your husband you have never experienced before.

"Then prove it," you whisper, leaning back into him. Oneiros lets out a low growl, his grip on you tightening slightly. His lips brush against your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

"With pleasure," he murmurs, his voice low and filled with promise.

With a gentle swivel of his hips, you feel his cock pressing against you, stiff and throbbing. Your eyelashes flutter only once before your body is dragged down against his erect cock as Oneiros pushes his hips up. A strained and ragged gasp emerges from your lips at the sensation of his cock sinking into your body.

His breath is hot against your neck, his hands gripping your waist tightly as he moves in and out, each motion a calculated move choreographed by desire. You arch your back and meet his every thrust with an eagerness that leaves you breathless.

"More," you beg, wanting him to be deeper, harder, faster. Oneiros obliges, but not in the way you wish. His thrusts become deeper, more punishing even, and that has your free hand latching onto his thigh in a death grip. His mouth finds a sensitive spot on your neck and the Endless bites with the intention of marking you as his.

With teeth sinking into your flesh, an electric current runs through your body and mingles with the fierce pleasure of his relentless thrusts. You cry out, a mix of pain and pleasure, your heart pounding in sync with his rough rhythm. Oneiros' lips meet the wound he has just created, soothing it with his gentle kisses. In that moment, he withdraws and you gasp for air, your entire body electrified from the force of his claim. Your head drops against his shoulder and you whisper, "I'm yours, Oneiros. I’m yours, I’m yours, I’m yours."

As the echo of your whispered affirmations hangs in the air, Oneiros slows his pace, finally pulling out completely. He gently lifts you off of him and aligns you in front of him, nudging you down so that you are facing him when your legs straddle him. Your legs still tremble and your breaths are still heavy with the aftermath of passion, but your eyes meet his, filled with hunger and desire. He looks so hungry. Oneiros guides your hips, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. He pulls you flush against his chest.

“You asked, beloved,” he purrs and his hands find your waist once more. You can't help but feel the same fierce need that had generated your initial plea. You give him your own desirous gaze, your desire mirroring the intensity in his eyes.

"More," your word speaks in clear demand and the predatory smirk upon his lips grows. He thrusts himself back into you, his unrelenting need and hunger for you consuming him. You’d extinguish his pain, you’d soothe his hurt. His nails dig into your hips as he pushes deeper, driving himself into you with a fervor that leaves you breathless.

Your fingers dig into the muscles of his shoulders, urging him to take you with more force, to claim every inch of your body. The sound of your strained and ethereal moans reverberates off the tiled walls of the bath, a testament to the intensity of your pleasure. Oneiros' hips continue their relentless thrusting, his intense gaze never leaving your half-lidded eyes. Your expression is beyond celestial, as if you are in a state of euphoria from his touch.

Oneiros watches as love and desire consume your entire being. He knows he will never get enough of you.

Your moans turn into a primal cry, your ecstasy imminent. With a final force, Oneiros thrusts into you, pushing you higher until you are soaring together. A cry departs your lips and your ecstasy mirrors his. For a brief moment, the world disappears, leaving only the two of you in the purgatory of your passion. You collapse against his chest, arms barely hanging limp over his shoulders as your legs tremble in numbness. While you catch your breath, he gazes at you, his expression softening. In this intimate moment, the passion between you feels overwhelming. His fingers gently caress your cheek, tracing its delicate contours as if to memorize every line. No doubt he will. They dig into your hair, stroking the strands and caressing your scalp.

You let out a sigh and drop your cheek to his shoulder.

"Would you help me wash up, my lord? I seem to have lost control of my legs."

You almost hate how smug he looks upon doing so.

Date Published: 5/29/24

Last Edit: 5/29/24

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[kay-elle-cee]

Fic Author Self-Rec Tag

Thank you for the tag, @charmsandtealeaves! I think the last time I was tagged I only actually had 5 fics, so I suppose I actually have to make choices this time. 😅 Will be listing in no particular order.

When you get this, reply with your 5 favourite fics that you've written. Then pass it on to five other writers. Spread some self love.

Saturday Night's Alright (For Fighting) || 14k. Oneshot. Rated M. Sirius, Lily, and James deal with the fallout of the events from the end of 5th year.

No one is surprised by this one. The idea for this fic is what pulled me back into writing and will forever have my whole heart.

restless waves rise and fall || 48K. Complete. Rated T. Pirate AU In which James Potter is a gentleman pirate and Lily Evans is his loyal but vastly more competent First Mate.

My first completed multichap AND my first AU <3 RW Jily has a hold on me after this and I love them with all my heart. I briefly wrote for the POTC fandom years ago so this was just like....a very fun cross-section of my interests.

A Thrill Divine, Down My Spine || 2k. Oneshot. Rated T “You know what I'm getting at — you're like a really good thing personified. Take a compliment Potter, God.” She turns on her stool to face him, sliding one of the firewhiskies his way. Or: Two totally platonic friends get drinks after a rough day.

This came about so suddenly and was so fun to write...it was just really enjoyable to write something light and flirty!

Echoes of a Love Lived || 13.7K. Complete. Rated T. A collection of Jilytober ficlets.

A huge undertaking for me, but it was a great opportunity to kind of play around with styles and POVs and I'm really proud of these little moments.

When Resiliency Shatters || 1k. Oneshot. Rated M James and Lily grapple with isolation in the week after undergoing the Fidelius Charm.

I delighted in writing this kind of sorrow with a cheerful holiday background. Also, I just really enjoyed getting to write a moment where James' whole personality is thrown for a loop and we see him kind of stumble numbly through life.

Tagging @sunshinemarauder, @possessingtheproperspirit, @emeralddoeadeer @wearingaberetinparis and @uncertainwallflower if you feel up for it!

[ltash]

Lost in the heat

You had the best night of your life with Lieutenant Ghost before you two get married.

Ghost x female reader

Warning: 18+, MDNI, Dub Con, Sensual, Hot, p in v.

"The way you make me feel is unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.You are my heart, my life, my one and only thought."

Where are you taking me, Ghost?" I asked, a playful tone in my voice as he practically dragged me along, our laughter and giggles echoing through the hallway. His infectious joy was contagious, and for a moment, all the worries and hardships faded into the background.

He stopped suddenly, lifting me effortlessly into his arms. I giggled, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Where are we going?" I teased, enjoying the spontaneous adventure.

"To my room," he teased back, his eyes twinkling mischievously with love and anticipation.

He made me stand in his room and locked the door, the sound of the latch clicking reverberating in the quiet space. His presence was commanding, and as he stepped closer, the anticipation between us grew palpable.

"I’m thankful your mask came off for some time, Simon," I whispered teasingly, biting my lip. My hands found their way to the belt of his pants, playing with it as if testing the waters of this newfound intimacy.

With a gentle but firm push on his chest, I directed him towards the bed. He fell back, leaning on his arms, a mischievous smirk dancing on his face. It was a look that made my heart race and my stomach flip with excitement.

We didn’t need words. The intensity of our gaze spoke volumes. I stood there, absorbing every detail of him—the way his long blonde lashes moved with each blink, the depth of his chocolaty eyes, and even the scars that adorned his face, telling stories of battles fought and survived. Despite them, or perhaps because of them, he looked divine.

His thick thighs seemed to beckon me closer, inviting me into the heat radiating from between his legs. God, this man and his perfectly sculpted body were a masterpiece.

"You are perfect, Simon Riley," I said, my voice filled with awe and affection. Leaning down, I placed my knee between his legs, feeling the heat and desire emanating from him. Our noses touched, a gentle and intimate gesture that sent shivers down my spine.

I started to unbutton his shirt slowly, each button undone with deliberate teasing. "Things I want to do right now with you, Lieutenant Ghost," I whispered in his ear, my breath hot against his skin.

I saw him gulp, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. The anticipation in his eyes mirrored my own. His scent, a mix of his natural musk and a hint of the cologne he wore, was intoxicating, making me wild with desire.

As I slid the shirt off his shoulders, revealing more of his sculpted chest and the tattoos that adorned his skin, I could feel the tension between us building. My hands roamed over his muscles, tracing the lines and curves that I had come to know so well.

He reached up, his fingers threading through my hair, pulling me closer. "You drive me crazy, Angela," he murmured, his voice husky with need.

I smiled, leaning in to kiss the spot just below his ear, feeling the shiver that ran through him. "Then let’s see how crazy we can get," I said, my voice full of promise and desire.

He parted his lips to say something, but I placed a finger over them. "Shh! Lieutenant. No talking. Only listening," I ordered, a playful glint in my eyes.

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, his voice tinged with both amusement and desire.

I traced my finger along his lips before leaning in to kiss him, soft at first, then deeper, more demanding. His hands gripped my waist, pulling me closer as I continued to explore his mouth with mine. His submission in this moment, despite his usual commanding presence, sent a thrill through me.

He followed my lead, obedient to my every touch and command, his eyes never leaving mine.

We moved together, a seamless blend of passion and tenderness.

I slid off the bed, my movements deliberate and slow. Kneeling at his feet, I began to undo the laces of his boots, taking my time with each knot. The room was silent except for the sound of my fingers working through the laces and his quiet, steady breathing.

Once the boots were off, I tossed them aside. I looked up at him, catching his eyes again. They were dark with desire, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

“You don’t know what you do to me, Angela,” he murmured, his voice a husky whisper.

A smile curved my lips. “Oh, I think I have an idea,” I teased, letting my fingers trail up his thighs, feeling the heat radiating from him.

He reached down, his hand cupping my cheek, thumb brushing my skin gently. “Come here,” he commanded softly, but there was no real authority behind his words, only need.

I climbed back onto the bed, straddling his lap, my fingers trailing over the newly exposed skin of his chest. “You’re mine tonight, Simon,” I whispered, leaning down to capture his lips once more.

I started unbuttoning my shirt, each button coming undone slowly, deliberately. His eyes followed every movement, darkening with desire, though the depth of his gaze made it hard to see his dilated pupils. His hands reached up to help, but I gently pushed them away.

"Patience, Lieutenant," I murmured, enjoying the way he shivered at my touch. I shrugged off the shirt, letting it fall to the floor, and his eyes roamed over me, taking in every inch of exposed skin.

"You’re beautiful," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

I leaned in, my hands sliding up his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath my fingertips. "And you’re mine," I replied.

He bit his lip in excitement, his eyes never leaving mine. "You are such a naughty girl, Angela!"

"Am I?" I asked, a playful smirk on my lips.

My hands rested on his belt, playing with it, my gaze fixed on his face. Slowly, I unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his pants. "What are you hiding there, Ghost?" I teased.

"Why don't you see for yourself, Angel?" he replied, his voice thick with anticipation.

"That's what I'm about to do," I said, pulling down the zipper. The heat radiated from his boxers, and he bit his lip again, his excitement palpable. I slid off the bed, sitting on my knees, and tugged his boxers down, revealing his thick, veiny cock.

"Gosh! You are so hard," I teased, stroking his cock slowly. He threw his head back, a gasp escaping his lips.

"Fuck, Angel!" he breathed out, his voice a mix of pleasure and desperation. His reactions spurred me on, and I continued, feeling a sense of power and connection that went beyond mere physicality.

"Does it feel good, Lieutenant?" I teased, my voice low and sultry.

"Yes. So good," he breathed, his voice filled with longing.

His eyes were glued to me, dark and heavy with intoxication and ecstasy. Each whimper and groan that escaped his lips only fueled my desire, the pleasure I was giving him reflected in every sound he made.

"I love everything about you, Simon," I whispered, teasing again. My words seemed to heighten his arousal, his body reacting to my touch, his breaths coming faster and shallower.

"Angel..." he groaned, his hands gripping the sheets. The way he looked at me, the way he responded to my every touch, made me feel powerful and deeply connected to him.

With each stroke, each whisper, I knew this was more than just a moment of passion. It was a testament to the bond we shared, a love that had survived battles, pain, and near-death experiences.

"Don't make me wait any longer, please," he nearly begged, clutching the sheets tighter. His desperation was palpable, and it sent a thrill through me.

I pulled down his pants, followed by his boxers, and the sight of him made my heart race a million miles. He was everything I had ever wanted, everything I needed.

Sitting on my knees between his thick thighs, I stroked them with my hands, feeling the heat radiating from his skin. He leaned down and kissed me, a deep, hungry kiss that left me breathless.

I stood up, and he helped me slip down my jeans and my thong. The anticipation between us was electric. I straddled his thick thighs while he adjusted his cock at my entrance. As I slowly took him in, the stretch brought a wave of intense pleasure. A moan escaped my lips, and I saw the raw need in his eyes.

We moved together, slowly at first, savoring each sensation. His hands roamed my body, and I could feel his muscles tense beneath me. The connection we shared in that moment was profound, a culmination of everything we had been through together.

"Angela," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I love you."

"I love you too, Simon," I replied, my voice trembling with the intensity of my feelings.

Our lips met in a passionate kiss, his tongue exploring every corner of my mouth while I rode him towards ecstasy. His eyes were filled with raw desire, his face showing a vulnerability I had never seen before. The want and need were etched deeply into his features, making my heart race even faster.

He kissed my neck, nipping at the skin and leaving marks that tingled with a mix of pain and pleasure. A moan escaped my lips, a sound of pure bliss.

I cupped his face, kissing him deeply before pushing him back onto the bed. He held my waist, guiding me back and forth with a firm but gentle grip. His groans were a symphony of pleasure, each one making me go wilder, driving me to give him everything he wanted.

His fingers dug into my hips, and I could feel the intensity of his need in every movement. We moved together in perfect harmony, lost in a world where nothing else mattered. The room was filled with the sounds of our shared passion, the scent of sweat and desire heavy in the air.

He grabbed my thighs and effortlessly lifted me, pinning me against the wall. His hands braced beside my head, and I wrapped my legs around him as he began thrusting into me so deeply it made me jump with each movement. His forehead rested against mine, his eyes boring straight into mine.

“Taking me so well, luvvie. Looks like you were waiting for your Lieutenant to fuck you so bad,” he growled, his words shaking me to the core.

Cries of intense pleasure escaped my mouth as the sensations overwhelmed me. I wrapped my arms around him, clinging to him as he drove me wild.

“Simon!” I moaned, my voice filled with need.

“Here, love. Eyes on me,” he ordered.

I did as he said, my gaze locked onto his. The connection between us was electrifying, every thrust, every touch heightening the intensity. His deep, slow thrusts made my whole body jump, pushing me closer to the edge.

With each powerful movement, he took me higher, his breath hot against my skin.

He pulled out from me and turned me around, making me stand on my tiptoes as his fingers dug into my hips to adjust me. My skin was flushed with heat, sweat beads adorning my face and chest. He thrust into me from behind, fisting my hands on the wall for support. With each powerful movement, he groaned while my knees became weaker and weaker.

Wrapping his arms around me, I leaned back against him, my head resting against his chest as I arched my back. He grabbed my neck and captured my lips with his, our breaths mingling as he pounded into me. My moans were swallowed by his hungry mouth.

"Si' Please make me cum. Please, please," I begged, the intensity of the pleasure making my eyes teary.

"What's the rush, naughty girl?" he teased, fisting my hair and pulling my head back. "You started it, luvvie. Let me finish it at least." His husky, thick voice drove me wild. I was completely at his mercy now.

His pace quickened, each thrust sending waves of ecstasy through me. My body trembled with anticipation, the pleasure building to an unbearable peak. He was relentless, driving me higher and higher until I was on the brink of losing control.

“Simon, I’m so close,” I gasped, my voice breaking with need.

“Hold on for me, love,” he murmured, his breath hot against my ear. “Let’s reach it together.”

"Let's finish where we started," he murmured, pulling out and carrying me in his arms, then throwing me onto the bed. He pulled me close by my waist, spreading my legs wide before thrusting into me deeply. I was caught off guard by his sudden intensity, a gasp escaping my lips.

He lifted me by my waist, his brute strength evident as he pounded into me. I arched my back, holding onto his hands, the overwhelming pleasure making me cry out. His groans mingled with my cries, filling the room with the sounds of our shared ecstasy.

The coil of pleasure tightened and then unraveled around me, throwing me off the edge as I reached my high. Clutching the sheets, a cry escaped me as the intense wave of orgasm washed over me. He followed closely, wrapping himself around me and filling me with his release.

His breaths were heavy as he collapsed onto me, his face buried in the crook of my neck. The weight of him was comforting, grounding me as I came down from the heights of our passion. Overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment, I broke into sobs, the release of emotions too powerful to contain.

He held me tightly, his hands gently stroking my back. "Shh, it's okay, Angel," he whispered soothingly. "I've got you. I'm here."

He kissed my face with so much love and passion, his lips tender and comforting against my skin. “Did I hurt you, love?” he asked, his voice filled with concern.

“No, never,” I replied, my voice soft but steady. “You could never hurt me, Simon.”

He sighed in relief, his arms tightening around me as he held me close. “I love you so much, Angel. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

I buried my face in his neck, inhaling his scent, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against my cheek. “I love you too, Simon. More than anything.”

We stayed like that for a while, wrapped in each other’s arms, letting the afterglow of our passion and the deep connection between us soothe and comfort. The outside world faded away, leaving only the two of us, bound together by a love that felt eternal.

I clung to him, my sobs gradually subsiding as I found solace in his embrace. The room was quiet now, the echoes of our lovemaking fading into a serene stillness.

[stilespeters]

Reader being obsessed with her husband James March’s scars on his back.

You stabbed me?

pairing: James March x fem!reader

a/n: i need to dance with James while also trying to stab him (tension djdhhsh) in a room full of oblivious people. its simply a must.

word count: 2847

summary: You admire James’ scars and get a flashback on how the both of you met

warnings: sexual tension🤭, a bit of angst, swearing, suggestive language, oh and murder & violence ig

“James?” you called out and you looked at yourself in the mirror as the crimson fabric hugged your body. As you called out your lover's name, you heard him hum as he made his way over to you with his upper body exposed. “Yes, my dearest?”

“Can you zip up my dress?” You adjusted your hair to your side to expose your bare back, and James made his way behind you. He stood tall as his fingers brushed your lower back, and you felt shivers along your spine as he gently zipped the zipper to the end while looking at you in the mirror in front of you. You were wearing a wine colored sleeveless dress with a slit, and it clung to your body perfectly, showing your curves while still looking classy. It was a gift from James and it was your favorite dress. You only wore it on special occasions, and today was one of them.

You were both headed to a speakeasy downtown, and you were really excited. Women were allowed to vote and they were allowed to be much more loose than before, which meant that women were now also allowed to attend speakeasy’s. Plus, there was alcohol. Ever since the Prohibition law, it was way harder to get a good drink.

James was beyond thrilled to have you by his side. In the saloons, he’d talk about you and what a gem you were, but now he could finally show those men that you were the true angel of Los Angeles.

Once James was done zipping up your dress, he planted a kiss on your bare shoulder, and cupped the back of your neck. He gripped it with force whilst he planted more kisses, and his other hand was planted on your waist. “You look divine, Mrs March.”

“Why thank you, Mr March.” you turned around to face him, and you looked up at him and placed your hands on his chest. Your nails scratched against his skin, and he grinned at you as you leaned in to give him a kiss.

You planned on leaning back after a few seconds, but he had other plans as he cupped the back of your head, holding you into place. You let out a soft moan, which led to James getting a little more rough, and your hands moved to his back, scratching deliciously against his shoulder blades.

Kissing James for a few seconds just wasn't an option.

You only pulled away from his lips to kiss his neck, and his grip on your neck tightened as you sucked the sensitive skin. You knew that if you didn’t stop now, that your dress would be on the ground and his pants would be down.

But you didn't want to stop.

However, you two had a speakeasy to attend to, and so you pulled back and breathed heavily while pressing your forehead against his while his hands snaked around your waist.

“We still have about twenty minutes.” He whispered and he grinned. You knew what he was implying but you wanted to tease him. “Is that so?”

“Yeah, how about we skip the speakeasy and go to bed instead. I love your dress but it would look better on the floor.” You held his hair in your hands and tugged lightly, making him groan and you leaned forward to his ear. “Mhmm,” You waited a few seconds before continuing. “No.”

You pulled back and his lips were in a thin line, yet his eyes stood playful and you gave him a smile. “I don't want to ruin my makeup.”

“Yet your lipstick is painted on my neck.” He motioned for the red spot on his skin, and you chuckled. There was indeed a red spot on his neck, and he looked devilishly handsome right now. His hair was tousled and a few strands covered his forehead, the veins in his muscles were prominent, and his chest was marked with your recent scratches that attacked the skin.

Your chuckle, however, faded when he suddenly grabbed your chin, forcing you to look up at him in the eyes, and he rubbed some lipstick off of your skin with his thumb that got lost in the make out session. He then hooked his thumb on your bottom lip and slowly dragged it down.

“You know the words, darling. For if you change your mind. They will understand if we arrive later than expected,” the corners of his lips curled up. “Or not at all.”

When he saw you were speechless, he smiled at you and let go of your lip as he moved back to the bed and sat on the end with his back facing yours. He grabbed a cigarette from his pocket and placed it between his lips, and he grabbed a lighter on the nightstand and took a deep inhale.

Your hair was a little messy from the way he grabbed you, and your mind was fogged with the intoxication of your husband’s actions. It felt euphoric and it took every ounce of your body to not give in and jump on him.

However, you were strong enough to set it aside, and you fixed your hair and makeup in the mirror before turning around and looking at your husband who was still smoking with his back turned to you.

His back was broad and there were scratches scattered on his skin. Some were from you, from the previous nights the two of you had spent in your shared bedroom. But there were also other marks on his back that you didn't recognize. You saw it once or twice when you two would shower together and when you’d wash his back, but he always seemed reluctant when you’d touch them or ask about them.

You were curious by nature, and even though you didn't want to pry for information, you wished he would share it with you. You knew that he’d open up to you about it when he would be ready, and once he was ready, you’d open your arms for him to show him comfort. But the last time you mentioned it was months ago, just after the wedding, and so you felt like one more try couldn't hurt.

If he decided however to not speak up about it now, you’d happily wait until he was ready.

You slowly walked towards him and to his oblivion, you kept staring at his back. But what you didn't know was that James felt your eyes on him minutes ago, and he smirked as the cigarette was between his fingers.

“Like what you see?” he chuckled and you clenched your jaw and rolled your eyes. “I actually do.”

“Yeah?” he turned to look at you and you sat on the bed behind him and started massaging his shoulders. James March was a strong and powerful man, nothing could drag him down. However, he had one weakness, and that was your touch. He was like ice, but your skin on his would melt him instantly.

He gave into your soothing motions on his shoulders and closed his eyes.

You moved your hands a bit lower till they reached his shoulder blades. Testing the waters, you carefully traced one of the markings. He froze, and you kept massaging his stiffened muscles. His back was tense, and this time you were the one to plant a kiss on his shoulder.

He didn't say anything and instead let out a sigh. He gently grabbed your palm that rested on his shoulders, and for a second you thought that he wanted to pull you away. But instead, he guided your fingers to another mark on his back. You again, traced it, and you leaned in to give it a kiss.

“My father was a true believer,” he began, and you stopped as he continued. “Ate a little cracker, drank the wine every sunday. And he was the meanest son of a bitch you’ve ever seen.”

You gulped. James wasn’t one to use profanity often. You heard him sigh deeply and he huffed as he mentioned him. “Killed a cat for purring too loud.”

He took another inhale of his cigarette and bit the inside of his cheek. It was as if he was reliving everything over again. “He was Satan himself, disguised as an angel. It was a dance with the devil, and I kept playing with fire, that’s why he lashed out on me often.”

You brushed the pads of your fingers against the other markings, and again, you leaned in to give it a kiss. You wanted him to know that you were there for him in times like these, because these moments were rare. He usually puts up a mask to conceal his feelings, but you knew that once he let his guard down, that his vulnerable side was showing. You were supporting him in every way possible, even through the tough times, that’s why he felt comfortable enough with you to show his sensitive side.

“In those moments where he looked down on me, I… I-” he didn't know the words to describe it, and you gently rubbed his skin.

“You forgot how powerful you were.”

“Yeah,” he muttered and he clenched his jaw. “ I refuse to let my past get in the way of my success. I refuse to feel powerless like that again.”

You could really tell that he didn't want to think back about his past, about his father and you felt empathy. James was a person who loved power. He thrived knowing that he was one of the most powerful men in Los Angeles, and he felt like his scars were only a liability. He felt like it showed weakness.

“These scars radiate power, not weakness,” you began and he looked intrigued in what you had to say. “The wounds that were inflicted on your skin have healed, but there will always remain scars, both physically and mentally. It’s a sign that you’ve endured the torment of the world, the torment of your father. It’s a mark that shows that you're a survivor.” you almost whispered it, but it felt like a gunshot next to James’s ears. He smiled at your words, taking another inhale of his cigarette and you traced your finger down his back to his other scars.

He was thankful for you.

You stopped tracing your finger over his back when you reached another mark that was prominent on his side, and you chuckled when you remembered where it was from.

It was the scar he got when he first met you.

It was the summer of 26, and you had a mission. Find James March, and kill him. It was as easy as that, a simple task.

When you first entered the Grand room, it felt like the whole word went quiet. Everyone’s attention was on you, and everyone’s breath got caught up in their throat when they admired your physique. You held your chin high, and when you scanned the room, your eyes met the eyes of your target, James Patrick March. When he stared at you, he thought that you were the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on, and when you stared at him, you thought he was the most handsome man you had ever laid eyes on. He was infatuated with you, and you were infatuated with him. Which made the job a lot harder than you anticipated. Luckily you liked a challenge. Why not have fun when you're tasked to kill an aristocrat?

The first half of the night was basically you eyeing him from the other side of the room. He was talking to other ladies with beautiful and elegant flapper dresses and hand fans, however he didn't pay attention to any of them. He had a big name for himself and the women were practically lined up just to talk to him. They wanted to seduce him for his money and good looks. However he didn't fall for any of them. He knew their intentions, he was strictly here for business. Yet his eyes kept subconsciously moving towards you. You stood in the corner with wine in your hands, sipping while watching everything around you intently. Specifically James.

You had something mysterious and James was drawn to it.

Jazz music played in the background, and you had finally had enough of waiting for him to make the first move, and so as you made your way towards him. The ladies at James’ feet were long forgotten once you and James were standing in front of each other.

He gently grabbed your hand and kissed te back while holding eye contact, and you smiled at him as he introduced himself.

You could smell his expensive cologne and when he asked for a dance, the two of you swayed to the rhythm of the jazz music.

You had his body pressed against yours, and everyone around you had disappeared as you kept looking into his dark brown eyes. Your faces kept moving closer and closer, but each time his lips were merely touching yours, you’d pull away and leave him speechless.

He was strictly there for business, but the way you looked at him made him want to make an exception for mixing business with pleasure.

However, James wasn't stupid, he knew you were up to something. You didn't have a chaperone, you wore a practical and simple dress instead of something extravagant, and you had only set your interest in him the whole night. Your vibe was off, and it bugged him. It was the hard blade of a knife however that was pressed against his side that made him realize you were up to no good.

His grip on you had tightened and he had leaned in so that his lips were next to your ear whilst you two were still swaying on the music. Everyone else didn't have any clue what was going on. “What game are you playing here?” He tried to pull away from you but you pulled him in till your chests touched, and your red lips grinned as you looked up at him with mischievous eyes. “The one where I get my paycheck.”

That’s when you stabbed him in his side.

You felt joy as you reminiscenced while your fingers traced the scar, and James rubbed soothing motions with his thumb on your side. You somehow felt proud of the mark you left him.

“You were sloppy that night,” he began and you chuckled. “If you stabbed the blade 1 inch to the left, I would’ve been dead, yet you missed.”

“Well maybe it was my intention to not kill you that night, maybe I wanted to have some more fun with you before I’d slice your throat.”

“Yet you didn't,” you stood up from your seat on the bed, and moved to sit on his lap instead. Both of your legs were on one side of his leg and you placed your arm around his shoulder. His hand moved to your waist. “I did slice a throat, it just wasn’t yours.”

He grinned widely at your words and he closed his eyes and hummed in amazement when he replayed the scene in his head.

You and him had tried to kill each other multiple times that night, while still dancing. No one noticed what was happening, and the both of you challenged each other as you two were on the same skill level. After 60 minutes the both of you gave up on trying to kill each other, and you agreed to kill the person who hired you.

When James closed his eyes, he saw the sight of you on top of your client. You had red splattered all over your face and dress as the man gurgled in his own blood when you slit his throat. Your dress was white, which represented innocence. Which was ironic since you were the opposite of innocent. It was the most attractive thing James had seen, for him it was like a sexual awakening. He didn't even find it odd that he was turned on by the sight of you murdering someone.

He fell in love right then and there, and so he decided to stick around with you, and everything that followed was history. The scar that was left on his side was a reminder of how the two of you met. It was a romantic first encounter where the two of you tried to murder each other.

“That night, you killing that man was the most astonishing thing I have ever witnessed in my entire life.” He adjusted you in his lap so both of your legs were on either side of his. You hovered above his crotch and your hands were once again on his chest.

“Mhmm.” you kissed his neck.

“You looked magnificent. Your white dress was painted with blood. Your hair was messy as your hair fell out of your bun, your lipstick was smeared and your legs were bruised from the fight that we had when you stabbed me. The way you clutched the knife, the way you drew it to his throat, you looked seraphic, killing him.”

As he complimented you, you continued kissing his neck trailing more pecks to his collarbone and his hands moved to your neck. When you pressed yourself onto his crotch, he sucked in a deep breath.

“Darling,” he whispered as you pulled back. “What about the speakeasy?” He asked and he gave you a knowing look while raising his eyebrows. You grinned down at him while grabbing a fistful of his hair. “We got 10 more minutes, right?” he nodded and you bit your lip. “Well, I marked you as mine when I stabbed you 4 years ago,” you motioned for the scar on his side. “Now mark me as yours.”

“Anything for you, my dearest.” his hands moved to the zipper of your dress, and before you knew it, the fabric was lost somewhere on the ground.

[rainba]

Thank you for always doing my requests! It means a lot to me!

I had more ideas that you can answer on your free time when not answering any other questions.

1. I’m imagining the reader as some type of god/goddess, so how would they react? (I bet that Kairos would be their most loyal worshipper 🛐)

2. Reader being a criminal (Serial killer, robbed a bank, etc)

And finally 3. If the reader has depression or is suicidal (I asked this because I suffer from some bad depression and suicidal thoughts as well 😢😭)

Sorry for always asking stupid requests but I hope you enjoy writing about them!

-🇰🇷 anon

It’s no problem! Thank you for sending them 🇰🇷 anon!~ (*ﾉωﾉ) All of these prompts/questions are very interesting...

I hope I answered them properly!!! >_<

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(Also, on a more serious note, I'm glad that you're alive and still here, anon! I might not know you personally, but I sincerely hope that things get better for you soon! Life will always get better in the end; you have to believe that it will. Always keep moving forward. I wish nothing but the best for you.) ღ

---------

GN reader!

TWs: depression, suicidal ideations, toxic behaviors, dark content all around, yanderes

Darling as some type of god/goddess.

You’re absolutely right about Kairos being the most loyal worshipper. He would take his role as a follower very, very seriously. Praying to you both day and night, offering his mind and body to you, giving you sacrifices, researching and studying every single detail about you, and so much more. It's his life's purpose to worship you!

If you were a god/goddess, Kairos wouldn’t hesitate to tattoo your religious symbol(s) onto his body. He would make it known to everyone that he is your most devoted worshipper, and that nobody else is as loyal as he is! (シ_ _)シ

As for Luka, he would be absolutely thrilled about his darling being some type of god/goddess. He, too, would be an extremely loyal worshipper– and he’d be far from an innocent one. To him, everyone who doesn’t worship you is less than human, and he treats all non-believers as such. Day in and day out, he would work to make sure that people put respect on your name. Much like Kairos, he would also get multiple tattoos that symbolizes your divinity– and he’d proudly show it off. ( ´ ꒳ ` )

Oh, also, he’d be dead set on catching your attention, if it's possible. While he wants everyone to worship you, he wants you to recognize only him and his devotion. The harder he works and the more he sacrifices, the more he expects you to reward him. So… Be a good god/goddess, and give him just a small taste of what he wants. ~ (=`ω´=)

2. Darling being a criminal.

One thing is for certain with this one: they would both be enablers. o(>< )o

Kairos won’t tell a single soul about what you’ve done…! All of your secrets are safe with him– nobody could waterboard the information out of him, even if they tried. While your behavior may not be the best, Kairos knows that his behaviors aren’t that much better. ^^;

Also…

His darling being a criminal would kind of turn him on...! You’re so dangerous, so wild, not even the law can stop you from doing what you want! It sends intense shivers down his spine.

With Luka, he just really has the tendency to want to blackmail you in a lot of situations… So, with you being a criminal, he would use your crimes as blackmail.~ (￣ ￣|||)

You don’t want the police to find out about what you’ve done, do you? Luka has all the evidence right in the palm of his hands. If he wanted to, he could waltz on down to the police station and have you imprisoned. So… You best do what he asks you to do~ 

...But, of course, he wouldn’t actually snitch. Not in a million years. He just likes to see you squirming under the shadow of his threats. If you call him out on his bluff, he will stop using your crimes as blackmail. ^^;;;;;;;

Also, if you need a partner in crime, he’d be willing to join you. Ღ

You need someone to wait outside of the store while you go inside and rob it? He'll wait outside for you on his motorcycle. Just hop on the back when you're done robbing the place, and the two of you will always manage to escape. ♡ ～('▽^人)

3. Darling who has depression/suicidal ideations.

Hearing that you have depression would, honestly, make Kairos equally depressed. He understands your feelings– and all he wants to do is stay by your side and help you through your dark times. If you want to lay in bed all day? That’s okay… He can lay in bed and cuddle with you, if you want him to. He’ll also always offer to let you sleep in his bed– he wants to make sure that you’re never alone. He wants to be there to comfort you when you cry.

Kairos wouldn’t really know what to do about your suicidal thoughts, though. All he would say is that you don’t have to be afraid to tell him– he’ll never judge you for anything. Before he met you, Kairos was also extremely suicidal, unsure of what he wants to do in life, unsure if his pathetic life is even worth living.

However, you simply existing gave him a reason to live– you breathed life into his soul, you showed him that he’s capable of love and that he needs to keep going…! If he can help you find a reason to live, too, then that’s exactly what he’ll do. He’ll stop at nothing.

Luka’s approach to a darling with depression is… A little rockier. He understands that you have no motivation– he understands that it’s incredibly hard to wake up in the mornings and hard to go to bed at night. Life itself feels so grey and dull, hardly anything makes you happy anymore…

Luka knows this, so he becomes determined to help add some color back into your bleak world. Luka will always be sure to make you the best of breakfasts every morning; breakfasts packed full of good nutrition. He'll walk up to you and give you a fresh plate of food, then he’d sit beside you and touch up your hair while you eat.

After that, he’d basically make you go on a walk with him– because fresh air is said to be really good at helping with depression! He read that somewhere online. If you really don’t feel like walking, though, he’d ask you to at least sit outside on his front porch with him, just to get some fresh air.

However... There may be times where he gets somewhat frustrated. If you refuse his food, refuse to go outside, refuse to do anything at all, he’ll become very upset. At first, he’d be upset at you– his ears falling flat as he grits his teeth, storming away and leaving you all alone in an empty bedroom while he goes to clear his thoughts. After a while, though, he’d realize that he shouldn’t be mad at you. He should be mad at the depression itself…

None of this is your fault.

When some time has passed, he’ll come back to where you are, and he’ll apologize. Luka will then slide behind you and try to cuddle up with you, not saying a single thing. Sometimes a comforting silence is worth more than words, anyways.

But for the suicidal thoughts, Luka really wouldn’t be able to understand. He doesn’t know what it’s like to feel that way– he’s never felt suicidal himself, and he’s never met somebody who's felt such things before. He does even more research online, tries to find ways to help you cope, and reassures you that he’ll listen to you at the very least.

Luka would end up monitoring your every move, truly making sure you don’t attempt anything. Luka, ultimately, just wants what’s best for you, and he yearns to keep you around for the rest of his life. Luka will set aside his ego and all of his little games in order to see you happy and healthy.

[rainforestakiie]

AdamsApple Month Harvest!

Temperature Play~

i am not sure if this counts as temperature play? but i hope it is good enough. i could go into such a long detailed au idea with this? i have had it on my mind for some time now. so happy i got to write it!

@adamsappleweek

It was a sultry night, the kind that seemed to wrap itself around you like a velvet cloak, suffocating yet oddly seductive. Adam lay sprawled on his bed, the thin, oversized grey t-shirt clinging to his skin. He had long since kicked the quilt aside, now laying exposed, one hand draped over his belly while the other hung limply near his head. His window gaped open, yet no breeze dared enter, leaving the heavy air inside stagnant, thick as molasses. He grumbled in his sleep, his body shifting restlessly, a bead of sweat tracing a path down his temple. His lips parted with a soft hum, eyelids fluttering as though he might wake, only to sink deeper into his dreams.

Something felt off. The atmosphere in his room was dense, as though the very air was conspiring against him. The heat swelled, enveloping him, sticky and unbearable, forcing his body to react with beads of sweat along his chest and neck. Then, just as suddenly, a chill slithered into the room, wrapping itself around him like an icy whisper. His body reacted instinctively—he shivered, curling into himself, searching blindly for the warmth of his blanket.

But when his fingers grasped at the soft fabric, it didn't move. Confused, Adam tugged again, harder this time, his brows knitting together as something—no, someone—giggled softly in the darkness. His heart skipped a beat. That wasn’t possible. He lived alone. His fingers tightened around the fabric, pulling it towards him with a desperate strength, but it resisted, stuck in place.

That same giggle again, light and playful, echoed in his ears, sending an uneasy thrill down his spine. His eyes snapped open, blearily adjusting to the dimness of the room, his breath catching in his throat. Coldness seeped into his bones as realization dawned. Someone—something—was in his bed. His emerald eyes widened, his pulse quickening, each thud reverberating in his ears like a drum. Slowly, his gaze drifted upward, and he nearly choked on his breath.

Hovering above him, poised on all fours, was a figure that seemed to shimmer in the pale moonlight filtering through the open window. Their blue eyes sparkled mischievously, a wicked smile curling on lips that were as red and plump as ripe cherries. Golden curls framed their delicate, almost ethereal face, with a white top hat perched jauntily atop their head. And behind them, something flapped, slow and deliberate—a sound too soft to be threatening, yet undeniably unnatural.

Adam’s heart stuttered, his mind struggling to make sense of what he was seeing. He jerked backward, limbs flailing as he scrambled off the bed, his foot catching the edge of the mattress as he tumbled gracelessly to the floor. His skull thudded against the hardwood with a dull crack, but the sharp pain did little to cut through his shock.

"Adam...,” the voice cooed cutely. “What are you doing down there?”

Adam’s breath hitched as he looked up at the figure now perched on the bed, wings lazily stretching behind them. Six glorious, feathered wings, their soft white edges tinged with an otherworldly blue, shimmered as they caught the faintest light. The person before him—no, creature—glowed, their alabaster skin glittering with an almost divine radiance, their rosy cheeks giving them an air of innocence that sharply contrasted with the suggestive smirk tugging at the corner of their lips.

Adam's chest heaved as his gaze swept over the figure, taking in their flowing white and blue robes that had pooled on his bed—his bed, which he had thought was his blanket. A wave of light-headedness washed over him as his eyes traced the wings again, disbelieving. The halo, faint but unmistakable, floated lazily above their head, sparkling like the stars that now seemed much too far away from the chaos unfolding in his room.

"Adam,” the figure spoke again, their tone laced with amusement, as they plucked a stuffed lion from Adam’s nightstand. “What is this place? And how did you end up here?”

The creature's curiosity seemed genuine, their blue eyes sparkling with a childlike wonder as they turned the plush toy over in their delicate hands. Adam’s throat tightened—how did they know his name? Panic clawed at him, his mind racing for an explanation, any explanation that could make sense of what was happening. His lips parted, but no words came out. He could only stare, wide-eyed and trembling, at the impossible being before him.

But then, something shifted.

The temperature in the room skyrocketed again, oppressive and suffocating, like the heat of an inferno suddenly filling the space. Adam instinctively recoiled, his back slamming against something—someone—solid. The sensation that ran through him was unlike anything he’d felt before, a scorching heat that coiled up his spine, pooling deep in his core. He froze, too terrified to turn around, every muscle in his body tensing as another presence made itself known.

This one wasn’t laughing.

Slowly, Adam forced himself to tilt his head upward, his breath coming in shallow gasps as he found himself staring into another pair of eyes—yellow sclera, slit pupils glowing red, framed by short blonde hair slicked back in a sharp ducktail. This one exuded an aura of pure, simmering annoyance, his expression tight and unimpressed as his sharp black eyebrows furrowed in displeasure. His tongue, forked like a serpent’s, flicked out briefly as he gazed down at Adam, a smirk playing on his lips, though far less playful than the first.

"Adam, what the hell are you playing at now?" the second figure grumbled, his voice dripping with disdain.

Adam’s mind reeled. He opened and shut his mouth, unable to form coherent words. Stalkers? Burglars? Murderers in strange costumes? What kind of twisted nightmare had he stumbled into? Yet the truth shimmered in front of him, undeniable and terrifying. These weren’t ordinary men—they weren’t even human.

With a sinking realization, Adam knew there would be no waking up from this dream.

The two blondes faced each other, the tension between them thick enough to choke on. The one with wings, draped in robes as white as freshly fallen snow, had an innocent air about him, as if he'd never known a harsh word in his life. His wide blue eyes blinked softly, curious and sweet, like a child discovering something new. The other, however, was a completely different story. His expression was hard, his eyes glowing with a simmering fury that made Adam's heart race with fear. His features, though sharp and striking, were twisted with bitterness, an anger that seemed almost too big to contain. The contrast between the two made Adam want to scream—or cry.

Adam swallowed thickly, his pulse thundering in his ears. Who were these two? What did they want with him? And more terrifyingly—why did they seem to know him?

"Adam," the bitter one hissed, his voice low and dangerous, snapping Adam out of his spiraling thoughts. The man’s gaze, sharp as a blade, locked onto Adam, making him freeze like prey caught in the sights of a predator. "What the fuck did you do?"

Adam felt the blood drain from his face as the anger in the man’s words hit him. His lips parted in shock, but no sound came out. He couldn’t breathe, let alone answer. The accusing look on the man’s cherry-red face only deepened, his expression so terrifying that Adam genuinely considered running, even if he didn’t know where.

The winged blonde, however, seemed far less hostile. His sweet face creased with worry as his eyes flickered between the two of them, confusion and concern painting his features. "A-Adam?" he stammered softly, his voice light and airy, like a gentle breeze. "What’s going on? Who is this? Do you know him?"

Adam's gaze darted between the two men, his throat tightening. He opened his mouth, desperate to find words, but before he could make a sound, the angry blonde turned on him again, eyes blazing like hot coals.

"Adam!" The venom in his voice was undeniable, laced with frustration and something deeper, something more personal. "Stop sitting there like a headless fucking duck and explain what type of fucked up shit you’ve pulled now! I do not have time for this. My daughter needs me, and I’ve still got to clean up your shit!"

The sharpness of the man’s words cut into Adam, causing him to flinch. His heart pounded painfully in his chest, but before the bitter blonde could say anything more, the angelic figure at his side stirred, his wings flaring slightly as if in irritation. He crossed his arms, and despite his innocent face, there was a certain firmness to his stance that Adam hadn’t noticed before.

"Don’t talk to him like that," the angelic blonde huffed, his voice soft but laced with quiet defiance.

The other man blinked in surprise, his eyebrows shooting up as he turned to glare at the angelic figure, incredulity flashing across his face.

"Excuse me?" he growled, his voice dripping with disbelief.

"You heard me," the winged blonde said, clicking his tongue in disapproval. "Don’t speak to Adam like that. I don’t know who you are or what you're so angry about, but don’t take it out on him. He’s done nothing wrong."

For a moment, the room fell into a tense, suffocating silence. The two men stared each other down, the air crackling with unspoken animosity. The suited blonde’s eyes narrowed dangerously as he took in the angel’s words. Then, without warning, he burst into laughter. But it wasn’t the light, amused kind—it was bitter, dark, laced with cruel amusement.

"Nothing wrong?" he cackled, throwing his head back as if the very idea was absurd. "You have no idea what you’re talking about, do you?"

The angelic blonde bristled, his wings twitching in irritation. "What do you mean?"

The suited man’s eyes flashed as his laughter died down, his sneer returning full force.

"From the moment Adam was created in Eden, he’s been trouble," the man spat, his voice dripping with venom. "Causing problems, hurting others—he’s a narcissist."

Adam’s jaw dropped, disbelief crashing over him like a tidal wave.

"A narcissist?" he echoed, the accusation so absurd it knocked the breath out of him. His confusion was swiftly replaced by anger—burning, unrelenting anger. Who did this freak think he was? Adam wasn’t perfect, but a narcissist?

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" Adam shot back, his voice finally finding strength, though it wavered with the force of his frustration. He pushed himself to his feet, squaring his shoulders as he glared up at the man. "You barge into my home, throw around accusations like you know me—what gives you the right?"

The suited man’s lips curled into a dark, predatory smile.

"Who am I? Oh, Adam...*" His voice dipped low, almost seductive in its mockery, the sound of it sending a shiver down Adam’s spine. "I think you already know the answer to that."

Adam’s breath hitched, his heart racing as he stared at the man in the immaculate white and red suit. Something in his eyes gleamed with dark intent, and the heat in the room seemed to spike again, pressing against Adam like a heavy weight.

The angel, sensing the shift in mood, stepped closer to Adam, his wings stretching protectively, their soft feathers brushing against Adam’s back.

"Don’t listen to him," the angel whispered, his voice soothing, a balm against the rising panic in Adam’s chest. "He’s trying to scare you."

Adam’s head spun. He didn’t know who to believe. The angel’s touch was calming, grounding even, but the bitter blonde’s words dug deep, planting seeds of doubt. Why did this man speak like he knew him intimately, like he held some dark secret over him?

"Adam," the suited blonde purred, taking a slow step forward. "You’ve always been a thorn in my side. But I’m here to help, truly. All you need to do..."

His snake-like eyes gleamed as he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a sinful whisper, "...is stop playing around."

Adam’s pulse quickened, the heat rising within him, a dangerous warmth curling through his body. Something about the way the man said it, the promise hidden beneath the surface, sent an involuntary thrill through him. He should run—he knew that. But the man’s eyes... they held something darkly captivating, something tempting.

"Don’t," the angel warned, his voice urgent, wings pulling Adam closer. "Don’t listen to him, Adam. Stay with me."

And there it was—an impossible choice, suspended between two beings that seemed to know far more about Adam than he knew about himself. Seduced by danger, tempted by salvation. His heart hammered wildly in his chest as the heat and cold warred inside him, both figures waiting, watching, poised for his answer.

The two blondes stood there, like mirror images twisted by different fates, their glaring contrasts only making the room feel smaller, more suffocating. The angry one sneered, rolling his eyes in irritation, while the sweeter one looked on with wide, pleading eyes, his wings twitching slightly in agitation.

"Adam, I swear to everything holy," the angry blonde growled, his voice laced with frustration.

"Stop fucking around! I’m tired of your games, and my patience is running on fumes." His eyes flicked over Adam with a look that could freeze the sun, full of disbelief and simmering contempt. "You think I’m here for a chat? No, you little nuisance—I'm here because I have to clean up your mess again."

The sweeter blonde gasped softly, his wings flaring protectively as he stepped in closer to Adam.

"Stop picking on him!" he huffed, arms crossing over his chest as his blue eyes narrowed at his counterpart. "Adam hasn’t done anything to hurt you—he couldn’t. It’s not in his nature."

The angry blonde scoffed, letting out a sharp bark of laughter that echoed in the heated room. "No idea what type of person Adam is, do you? You think just because he looks all innocent and lost, he’s incapable of screwing things up? You’re delusional."

"Of course, I know!" the sweeter one insisted, his voice rising in a rare show of assertiveness. "I was there the moment he was born."

The bitter blonde's eyes rolled so hard Adam half-expected them to get stuck in the back of his head. "Yeah? Well, so was I. And trust me, he’s turned out far worse than you could ever imagine."

That struck a nerve in the sweet one. His usually calm face flushed with anger, his wings trembling slightly.

"Adam is more precious than anything! How could you say that?" His voice was firm, a surprising bite to his words as he stepped forward, shielding Adam even more.

"Precious?" The angry one let out a dry laugh, his face twisted with mockery. "You’ve been blinded by his puppy-dog eyes. He’s not as innocent as you think, and I’m done pretending otherwise."

The argument escalated, the two of them bickering like opposing forces of nature, one filled with molten anger and the other with a saccharine sweetness that was slowly beginning to curdle. Adam’s head began to throb, a dull pain blooming behind his eyes as their voices grew louder, clashing like thunder in his skull.

He squeezed his eyes shut, rubbing at his temples in a futile attempt to stave off the headache that was building, pulsing with each harsh word thrown between the two men. The air around him seemed to crackle with tension, the room growing too hot, too cold, too everything all at once.

"Adam," the angry blonde growled, his patience officially snapping. Before Adam could register what was happening, a cold, clawed hand grabbed his shoulder with a grip that was too strong, too possessive, yanking him toward the angry blonde.

"I’m really losing my patience now. Enough’s enough." His voice was dangerously low, laced with a threat that sent a shiver down Adam’s spine. "You’ve been playing dumb for too long, and I’m not dealing with this any longer."

Before Adam could even blink, the sweet blonde's wings flared dramatically as he puffed his cheeks out in indignation.

"Don’t touch him!" he cried, his voice rising with rare intensity. With a swift, fluid motion, he yanked Adam back towards him, his soft hands almost comforting as they wrapped around Adam’s arm, pulling him into his embrace.

"Adam, it’s okay," he murmured sweetly, his voice a soothing balm to the chaos. "I’m not mad. Just tell me what you did."

The angry blonde's jaw dropped in sheer disbelief, his eyes widening in outrage.

"What the hell are you talking about? No! Adam, you listen to me," he snapped, pulling Adam back to his side, his grip tight and possessive once more. "You know better than to listen to this featherbrained idiot. You need to tell me what the hell you did so I can fix it!"

Adam, caught between the two of them like a rag doll, blinked rapidly, his mind spinning. The headache was blinding now, each tug and yank making it worse, like the inside of his skull was about to explode.

"I—" he tried to say something, anything, but the words died in his throat.

The sweet blonde’s grip tightened, his feathers rustling as he pulled Adam close again, this time wrapping his wings around him protectively.

"Don’t worry, Adam," he cooed softly, glaring at the other blonde. "You don’t need to explain anything to him. You’re safe with me."

"Safe?" the angry blonde sneered, yanking Adam back once more. "He’s never safe, not with the kind of trouble he brings. Stop coddling him like some pathetic baby bird and let him take responsibility."

Adam’s head spun, his body jerking back and forth between them as they continued their tug-of-war, each of them vying for his attention, for his confession, for something he didn’t even understand himself. The air around them grew thick with tension, the heat pulsing through the room in waves as both of their grips tightened, neither willing to let go.

"He’s precious," the sweet one insisted, his voice soft but firm.

"He’s a menace," the other growled, eyes burning with frustration.

"He’s innocent."

"He’s guilty as fuck."

Adam’s breath hitched, his vision blurring as the headache turned into a full-blown storm inside his skull. He couldn’t take it anymore—the arguing, the pulling, the accusations. It was too much.

"Stop! Just stop!" Adam finally yelled, breaking free from both and stumbling back, his heart pounding painfully in his chest. "I don’t know what’s going on! I don’t know who you are or what you want from me, but just... stop fighting!"

The room fell eerily silent, both blondes staring at him, their faces unreadable.

Adam inhaled sharply, stumbling back while glaring at the two ethereal blondes. His heart raced, half with confusion, half with exasperation.

"Oh my God, who the hell are you?" he demanded, his voice trembling with both fear and irritation.

The two blond men exchanged confused glances, their expressions mirroring each other in eerie synchronicity. For a moment, it seemed they might launch into another argument, but instead, they spoke in unison, their voices eerily harmonious.

"Adam, you know who I am... It’s me, Lucifer."

Adam’s breath hitched as he stared at them, his green eyes widening as both men mirrored each other’s shock. Their faces morphed from surprise to suspicion, both glaring at each other before speaking again at the exact same time.

"No, you're not. I'm Lucifer. You're the imposter!"

Adam groaned, rubbing his temples as the pounding in his head intensified.

"Neither of you are Lucifer!" he snapped, his voice laced with frustration as he pushed himself to his feet.

"Because Lucifer has been living in my flat for the past six years!" He huffed, stomping across the room, his temper flaring. "The little fucking freeloader."

Both blondes turned to watch him, their identical gazes filled with a mix of suspicion and curiosity. Adam could feel their eyes following him as he moved to the other side of the room, his jaw set with irritation. He bent down into what looked like a tower of plush toys, his fingers brushing through soft fur.

Straightening up, Adam held something in his arms, his expression a mix of defiance and possessiveness as he turned to face the two celestial beings.

"This," he said sharply, glaring at them, "Is Lucifer."

Cradled in Adam's arms was a small, fluffy snow-white Munchkin cat. The tiny creature purred contentedly, its long, elegant tail swaying lazily, and its sharp blue eyes locking onto the two stunned blondes. Adam felt a smug satisfaction as he held the cat protectively.

The angry blonde blinked, his eyes widening in disbelief as he whispered, "There's no way."

His red-and-yellow eyes darted around the flat, panic flickering across his face. He straightened, his normally composed facade cracking. With a snap of his clawed fingers, he tried to summon something—anything—but nothing happened. His face paled as a worried sound escaped him.

"No fucking way."

The angelic blonde tilted his head, a mischievous smile curling on his lips.

"Aw, are you trying to use your magic?” he teased, a soft, mocking lilt in his voice.

"Are you even sure you have magic?" His blue eyes twinkled with amusement as the angry one shot him a dark look.

"If you have magic," the angry blonde growled, "Then prove it. Open a portal. That's basic."

The angelic one snapped his fingers, his confident smirk almost too self-assured—until nothing happened. The smugness on his face slowly faded into concern as he snapped again, and again, growing more frantic with each failed attempt.

"Oh no..." he whispered, his eyes wide with panic.

The angry blonde groaned loudly, dragging his clawed hands down his face in utter frustration before he slumped onto the edge of Adam's bed.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, his voice filled with disbelief and exhaustion.

Adam, meanwhile, was stroking Lucifer’s soft white fur, the cat’s purring a soothing hum against the chaos unfolding around them. But then, with a subtle flick of his tail, Lucifer—the real Lucifer—decided to show off. A small, golden portal materialized out of thin air, and with a soft, almost musical sound, a handful of cat treats fell directly between the two blondes.

Both men stared down at the cat treats in stunned silence before slowly turning their gazes toward the tiny, smug-looking cat. Who was now purring louder than ever, clearly revelling in his triumph.

Adam’s face flushed as he shifted the purring bundle in his arms.

"Lucifer," he muttered, embarrassment tinging his voice, "You’ve got to stop stealing."

The Munchkin only purred louder, his blue eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

The angelic blonde stared at the cat, his wide blue eyes filled with shock as he swore softly, "Double fuck."

For a moment, the room hung in thick silence, both celestial beings coming to terms with the absurdity of the situation, their once-imposing presence now reduced to disbelief as they realized they had been outdone by a mischievous, magical cat.

~#~

A few hours later, Adam found himself sitting on the floor of his dimly lit bedroom, Lucifer—his tiny, mischievous, snow-white Munchkin—curled up possessively across his lap. The cat's long tail swirled lazily, brushing back and forth like a silent claim over his Adam. Every now and then, his sharp blue eyes flicked towards the two other Lucifers in the room, as if daring them to try and take Adam away.

The suited Lucifer paced back and forth like a restless predator, his sharp red-and-yellow eyes flashing with frustration, rubbing his chin as he muttered to himself, going over theories and half-formed ideas that made no sense to Adam. The wall behind him had turned into a chaotic mess—papers plastered across it in haphazard fashion, strange symbols and writing that seemed to shift and swirl in the dim light, impossible for Adam to make sense of. He didn’t even try anymore, his mind spinning as the two versions of Lucifer wrestled with the bizarre situation.

The angelic Lucifer sat slumped on Adam's bed, his pristine white wings drooping, the golden feathers no longer glowing as brightly. His head was bowed slightly, and his soft, ethereal glow seemed dimmed, as if the weight of all this was finally taking its toll on him. Every now and then, he would glance up, his blue eyes troubled, lips parted in silent contemplation.

"Okay," the suited Lucifer finally breathed out, his pacing slowing as he came to a stop. At least he no longer seemed as angry, though the tension in his body was palpable. "It seems we've both been pulled from our respective dimensions into this one."

The angelic Lucifer bit his bottom lip, glancing up at his counterpart.

"And you're... my future self?" His voice was soft, uncertain, as if the idea was still too strange to fully accept.

The suited Lucifer let out a sheepish sigh, nodding as he ruffled his hair beneath the top hat. "It's... a lot, I know."

Angel Lucifer shook his head, his blonde curls spilling over his forehead. "Others have whispered about time magic, but I never thought it could be real."

"I thought it was a myth too," the suited Lucifer agreed with a groan, running a claw through his hair, messing it up even more.

"But this seems to be more like dimension magic. Both you and I are from the same world—just... different times." He paused, his eyes flicking to the window, where the familiar city skyline looked disturbingly unfamiliar. "But this? This isn't our world."

Angel Lucifer nodded slowly, his wings rustling against the sheets. "Which is why we can’t use our magic... and..."

Their gazes both shifted, landing on the smug little Munchkin cat still nestled in Adam’s lap, purring contentedly. Adam, lost in his own world for a moment, was giggling as he swayed an abandoned apple-shaped staff in front of Lucifer, who swiped at it playfully, but never left his perch. It was as if the cat, despite his playful swatting, refused to leave Adam's side, like some possessive, all-knowing guardian.

The two humanoid Lucifers stared at their cat counterpart in disbelief.

The suited Lucifer, clearly exasperated, yanked off his top hat and ran a clawed hand through his hair again, thoroughly mussing it up.

"It seems the only one with magic here... is our cat-self," he muttered, sounding utterly defeated by the absurdity of it all.

Angel Lucifer tilted his head, his blue eyes softening as they landed on the purring ball of fur.

"Do you think he brought us here?" he asked, his voice tinged with wonder, as if he were seeing their cat-self in a whole new light.

Adam, who had been focused on Lucifer’s antics, looked up at that, his green eyes wide with curiosity. He chewed shyly on the inside of his cheek, trying to ignore the fluttering sensation in his stomach at the way both versions of Lucifer were now staring at him with those intense, piercing eyes—eyes that seemed to see through to his very soul.

"Lucifer..." Adam hesitated, running his fingers through the soft fur of the purring cat, "He’s never moved anything bigger than himself before. Definitely not through dimensions. He... he steals toys and treats, but... nothing more than that."

The angelic Lucifer shifted closer, his wings brushing against the edge of the bed as he leaned forward.

"And yet..." he murmured, his voice low and thoughtful, "Here we are. Pulled into your world by something or... someone."

The suited Lucifer, still standing with his arms crossed, narrowed his eyes at the cat.

"Maybe this version of Lucifer—our cat-self—has been holding back. Maybe he’s more powerful than we thought. After all..." He trailed off, eyeing the golden portal the cat had casually opened earlier.

Lucifer the cat, still purring, blinked slowly at his humanoid counterparts before letting out a soft, almost amused meow, as if to say, Of course I am.

Adam blushed, glancing down at his cat as if the thought of this tiny, fluffy creature holding such immense power was almost too much to believe. But... then again, the little furball had just opened a portal to retrieve his favourite treats, so perhaps anything was possible.

"I think," the suited Lucifer said, his voice taking on a seductive edge as he stepped closer to Adam, his yellow-and-red eyes gleaming in the low light, "We need to figure out how much power our little kitty really has."

Adam swallowed hard, his breath catching as the angelic Lucifer also inched closer, his bright blue eyes soft but curious, filled with an otherworldly warmth.

"It’s okay, Adam," he murmured soothingly, his wings gently fluttering. "We just need to know the truth."

Caught between two near-identical versions of Lucifer, Adam’s heart raced. The room felt impossibly small, the air thick with tension, and the warmth of the cat in his lap grounding him even as his mind spun.

What had he gotten himself into?

As the tension in the room thickened, the tiny Munchkin Lucifer, still sprawled possessively across Adam’s lap, narrowed his sharp blue eyes at his two humanoid counterparts, daring them to make a move. The moment the angelic Lucifer inched closer, wings twitching with excitement, the cat let out a low, warning hiss.

Both versions of Lucifer froze, completely taken aback by the sound.

"Whoa—" The angelic Lucifer pulled back slightly, wide-eyed.

His pouty lips pressed together as he looked down at the cat, his blue eyes filling with disappointment. "I just wanted to pet him..." he muttered, his voice soft and almost sulking, like a child who had been denied a treat.

The suited Lucifer, meanwhile, had already stopped dead in his tracks, his yellow-and-red eyes narrowing suspiciously.

"Great," he growled, glaring at the fluffy ball of fur. "Our cat-self is a little tyrant."

His tone was sharp with irritation, but Adam couldn't help but notice the hint of grudging respect laced in his voice. Lucifer—whether in human form or cat form—was nothing if not powerful.

Adam, however, flushed a deep crimson as the attention turned to him once again. He let out a sheepish laugh, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck before returning his hand to run down Lucifer's soft back.

"It's okay, he's just... protective," Adam explained, trying to ease the tension. His fingers found the sweet spot just behind the cat's ear, and almost instantly, the Munchkin relaxed, letting out a pleased purr as his tail flicked back and forth lazily.

The suited Lucifer groaned, clearly exasperated, before flopping down onto the bed next to his angelic self. He crossed his arms tightly over his chest, his claws tapping against his biceps.

"Well, it looks like we’re stuck for now," he said, voice dripping with annoyance.

The angelic Lucifer turned to him; his large, innocent blue eyes wide with curiosity.

"Wait?" he asked, tilting his head like a confused puppy.

His suited counterpart hummed, nodding. "Yup. Looks like we have no choice but to wait... and hope our cat-self decides to send us back when he’s done being possessive."

He shot a withering glance at the smug, purring Munchkin, clearly unimpressed by the situation. "That little furball is more trouble than he's worth."

Angel Lucifer pouted, letting out a soft sigh. "I wanted to play with him too..."

His voice was tinged with disappointment, but his gaze flicked back to Adam and the tiny Lucifer curled up in his lap, curiosity still gleaming in his eyes.

Adam couldn't help but laugh, albeit a little awkwardly, as he glanced between the two versions of Lucifer sulking on his bed and the purring ball of fur in his lap.

"Well... he’s not usually this possessive," Adam offered weakly, scratching Lucifer’s chin. "Maybe he’s just... adjusting."

"Adjusting?" the suited Lucifer echoed, raising an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "He's acting like you're his personal property."

"I mean...," Adam stammered, his cheeks flushing an even deeper shade of red as the implications of that statement sank in.

"Cats are possessive in general... but he’s sweet, really." He gave a nervous chuckle, feeling the weight of both sets of eyes on him now, each gaze intense in its own way.

The suited Lucifer sighed deeply, rubbing his temples in frustration.

"Great. We’re at the mercy of a cat version of me." He closed his eyes, leaning back on the bed, defeated. "How did my life end up like this?"

Meanwhile, the angelic Lucifer was still watching the cat in fascination, his pout softening into a small, wistful smile.

"He really is cute though..." he murmured, his wings fluttering softly. "I can't believe that’s me."

"Don’t get too attached," the suited Lucifer grumbled. "He’s not as harmless as he looks."

Adam shifted awkwardly, his hand still petting the now entirely relaxed cat, who had settled even more deeply into his lap. "We just... give him time?"

The suited Lucifer groaned in response, but there was a resigned sort of acceptance in his posture. "Fine. We'll wait. But if we’re still stuck here by tomorrow, I’m bribing the little tyrant with all the catnip I can find."

Angel Lucifer giggled softly, leaning forward with his bright blue eyes twinkling in amusement.

"I’d like to see that," he teased, clearly entertained by the idea of his other self-trying to bargain with their cat-self.

Adam, feeling both amusement and exasperation bubbling up inside him, stroked the purring cat and muttered under his breath, "Please, just be nice for once.”

His Lucifer only rubbed back up against his hand in response.

Adam's eyes grew heavier with each passing minute, a slow yawn escaping his lips. He blinked, trying to fight off the fatigue creeping in, but it was no use. It was already very late, and the events of the day—dimension-hopping Lucifers, magic-wielding cats, and strange revelations—had drained him. Both Lucifers seemed to notice, their conversation fading as they turned their attention to him.

"You’re tired," the suited Lucifer said, his voice softer now, devoid of its earlier edge. He glanced at the small flat, his sharp gaze sweeping over the cramped space. "We should stop for the night."

Angel Lucifer nodded in agreement, his wings drooping slightly as though they too were weary.

"It is late," he added, his tone sweet and gentle. He watched Adam with a tenderness that made Adam feel like he was being cradled in that gaze alone.

Adam, clutching his beloved Munchkin, moved to stand, the cat’s soft body nestled possessively in his arms. He stood at the foot of his bed, blinking sleepily. Immediately, both Lucifers scrambled to their feet, realizing Adam needed his bed—and more importantly, wanted it.

The suited Lucifer rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, eyes shifting as he took in the small, cozy room again.

"I’ll sleep..." He trailed off, his gaze falling to the lack of any spare space. His lips twitched in mild discomfort.

"On the floor," he finished, clearly unenthusiastic about the idea but resigned to it.

Adam flushed, embarrassment creeping into his cheeks.

"This is it," he admitted shyly, his voice quiet. "There’s not really any more space than this."

The suited Lucifer gave a curt nod, accepting it with a soft sigh. "It’s fine. I’ll manage."

His eyes flicked to the floor, and with a tired groan, he agreed, "I’ll sleep here."

Angel Lucifer, however, pouted dramatically, his lips curving downward in disappointment. He glanced longingly at the bed, clearly wanting to curl up with Adam.

"But... I always snuggle with my Adam," he muttered softly, eyes wide with a puppy-like pleading look.

Adam glanced between them and then at the bed, thinking for a moment.

"We could share," he offered, feeling generous despite the cat now giving him the stink-eye. "You’re both kinda short. I think you’ll fit."

Before either Lucifer could argue, an indignant growl erupted from the small cat still cradled in Adam’s arms. Lucifer, the Munchkin, hissed at the mere suggestion, his fur puffing up in defiance.

Adam laughed, his cheeks tinged pink.

"Oh, come on," he chided softly, running his hand down the cat’s back to soothe him. "Don’t be like that. They’re our guests. It’s rude to make them sleep on the floor."

Angel Lucifer’s face lit up like a child at Christmas, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

"I want to sleep on the bed!" he declared, his wings perking up as though he’d just won a prize.

The suited Lucifer, on the other hand, looked far less enthused. He tugged at the collar of his jacket, clearing his throat uncomfortably.

"I’ll... stick to the floor," he muttered, trying to appear indifferent, though it was clear the idea of sharing a bed made him uneasy. His eyes flicked to Adam, softening just a little. "But thank you... for the offer."

Adam smiled gently at him.

"It’s fine," he replied, stretching his arms out and setting his cat onto the bed. "The offer’s still there if you change your mind."

Munchkin Lucifer, however, was not pleased with this arrangement. He let out a protesting meow, his sharp blue eyes narrowing as his fur bristled. He flipped onto his back, ready to spring off the bed at a moment’s notice if Adam dared to leave him behind.

Angel Lucifer took a tentative step closer, his hands twitching with the desire to pet his cat-self. His eyes sparkled with excitement as he reached out, only for the Munchkin to hiss, swatting a paw in warning. Angel Lucifer’s hopeful expression crumbled into a pout.

"Why won’t he let me pet him?" he whined, clearly heartbroken by the rejection.

Adam rolled his eyes at the antics, stifling a laugh.

"He’s just grumpy," he explained, though his amused grin betrayed how entertained he was by the whole situation.

Eventually, the room dimmed as the lights were turned off, and everyone settled into their respective spots. Angel Lucifer, despite his excitement, didn’t take up much space, his wings carefully tucked in as he lay face-to-face with Adam. His warm, blue eyes glowed in the dark, a soft, loving smile playing on his lips as he gazed at Adam with something almost akin to adoration.

The tender gaze made Adam’s heart skip a beat.

"What’s your relationship like... with your Adam?" he found himself asking quietly, curiosity getting the better of him. The way Angel Lucifer looked at him made him wonder what it was like in Eden, to have someone look at him with such devotion.

Before Angel Lucifer could respond, a pair of small, fluffy paws appeared between their faces. Both Adam and the angel looked up to find the Munchkin perched on the pillow above them, his eyes glinting with displeasure at the cozy arrangement. The little cat huffed, his tail flicking in irritation, and stretched out, pushing his paws directly into Angel Lucifer’s cheek, as if to forcibly reclaim his territory.

Angel Lucifer let out a soft, surprised whine, tilting his head back to avoid the cat’s possessive push.

"Why is he like this?" the angel pouted, clearly frustrated by his cat-self’s jealousy.

With a chuckle, Adam rolled over onto his other side, leaving Lucifer to deal with his obstinate cat-self. In the dim light, his eyes landed on the suited Lucifer, still sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, arms crossed and head bowed. His eyes were closed, but it didn’t look at all comfortable. His entire posture screamed tension.

Adam bit his lip, wondering if the other Lucifer was actually asleep—or if he was simply enduring in silence.

Sleep had taken Adam quickly, pulling him under despite the tangled mess of emotions and the strange, surreal circumstances of his evening. But after an hour or two, his body stirred again, his eyes fluttering open in the dim light of the room. His vision slowly focused, and he found himself gazing at the suited Lucifer, who was still sitting awkwardly against the wall.

Lucifer wasn’t asleep. In fact, he looked far from restful. He shifted constantly, his legs stretching out only to be drawn back in, his head tilting against the wall before snapping upright again. He squirmed as if trying to find a comfortable position, but there was none to be had. Adam blinked groggily, realizing with a pang of guilt that the poor devil likely hadn’t gotten any sleep at all.

"Are you uncomfortable?" Adam whispered, his voice soft, as though speaking too loudly might break the fragile quiet of the room.

The suited Lucifer froze, his red and gold eyes widening, clearly surprised that Adam was awake. His posture stiffened before he mumbled, "Sorry... I didn’t mean to wake you."

Adam shook his head gently, a sleepy smile tugging at his lips.

"You didn’t. But are you sure you don’t want to sleep on the bed? There’s space," he offered again, his voice warm with genuine concern.

For a moment, Lucifer said nothing, his gaze darting between Adam and the bed. Adam could swear he saw a faint blush beginning to spread across Lucifer’s sharp cheekbones, the tiniest hint of vulnerability that seemed almost out of place on his normally confident face.

Finally, in a soft, almost hesitant voice, Lucifer whispered, "Are you sure? You’ve already got... company."

Adam hummed thoughtfully, feeling the gentle weight of his Munchkin still purring contentedly against his neck, his soft fur warm against his skin. He stretched out his legs, his feet brushing against the slumbering angelic counterpart at the foot of the bed. A small smile spread across his face.

"There’s plenty of room," Adam replied, lifting the edge of the quilt in a silent invitation. His smile grew as he added, "Come on, it’s fine."

Suited Lucifer hesitated for a moment, his blush deepening as he shyly glanced at the open space. But eventually, the exhaustion must have gotten the better of him because he quietly slipped off his boots and crawled under the quilt, moving gingerly as though afraid to disturb the already crowded bed.

The space between them was minimal—Adam could feel the warmth radiating off Lucifer’s body as they lay side by side. Their eyes met in the low light, emerald green locking with that striking mix of red and gold.

"I’ve never seen eyes like yours before," Adam mused, his voice soft, barely more than a whisper.

Lucifer looked away shyly, his gaze dropping to the quilt as a small, self-conscious smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

"I’m... not exactly anybody," he replied quietly, the blush still lingering on his cheeks.

Adam’s smile widened.

"Yeah, I noticed," he teased lightly. "The wings on your other self kinda clued me in."

Lucifer’s lips twitched with amusement, his earlier tension starting to melt away. "Not the cat with dimension-bending magic?"

Adam chuckled softly, his hand reaching out to absentmindedly scratch behind the Munchkin’s ears. "Well, that did give me a hint. But my baby’s harmless."

Suddenly, a soft, indignant sound came from the other side of the bed. Angel Lucifer, who had been peacefully sleeping, let out a whine and shifted, his brow furrowing in sleepy irritation.

"I wasn’t even that close to Adam," he muttered, huffing as he tried to defend himself from some unspoken accusation. The Munchkin, still curled up against Adam, meowed in protest, clearly disagreeing.

Adam and suited Lucifer exchanged glances, both of them biting back laughter at the absurdity of the situation.

"Okay, maybe not completely harmless," Adam admitted with a grin, his voice laced with amusement.

Lucifer smiled, a warm, soft smile that lit up his eyes. He didn’t say it aloud, but as he lay there beside Adam, he realized just how much he had missed this. He missed the quiet, simple intimacy of sharing a bed with Adam. He missed the warmth, the quiet moments of being close. He missed just being with him, the way things had been back in Eden. He hadn’t realized how much he had missed Adam—until now.

"Are you okay?" Adam’s gentle voice broke through Lucifer’s thoughts, pulling him back to the present. There was genuine concern in Adam’s eyes as he looked at him.

Lucifer hummed softly, turning to meet Adam’s gaze again. "I’m fine," he said quietly, though there was a hint of sadness in his voice. "I just... have a lot on my mind."

Adam didn’t press further. Instead, he offered a soft, understanding smile, shifting slightly under the covers to get more comfortable. Lucifer, feeling the warmth of that smile, allowed himself to relax just a little more. He was here, for now, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he was close to Adam again.

Maybe, just for tonight, that was enough.

Morning crept in softly, like the gentlest of whispers, pulling Adam from the depths of his sleep. At first, he hovered in that hazy space between dreams and reality, his mind groggy and unfocused. For a fleeting moment, he wondered if the strange events of the previous night had been nothing more than a bizarre dream. Surely, it had to be—two versions of Lucifer showing up in his tiny flat? Dimension magic? Talking cats?

But as his body slowly stirred, waking inch by inch, the sensations that greeted him were undeniably real. He felt different, his body at odds with itself. He was both hot and cold, warm and cool. Sweat clung to his skin, yet there was an unmistakable shiver running through him. His back was freezing, while his front was stiflingly warm. And when he tried to shift, to move and find some comfort, he realized he couldn’t.

Something—or rather, someone—was holding him. No, two someones. He was completely trapped, sandwiched between two firm, solid bodies, one radiating heat like a furnace, the other as cool and refreshing as winter wind. His heart began to pound in his chest, the fog of sleep lifting as his awareness sharpened.

Adam forced his eyes open, blinking blearily in the dim light filtering into the room. His gaze darted around, and his breath caught in his throat as the memories of the night before came rushing back with a startling clarity.

Lucifer. Well, two Lucifers. The humanoid versions of his possessive little Munchkin.

His heart jumped into his throat as he realized the full extent of his situation. He was trapped—pressed between both versions of Lucifer, their bodies draped over him like a living, breathing blanket. His face flushed a deep crimson as he became acutely aware of how intimate this all was.

At his front, the suited Lucifer was nestled close, his face buried against Adam's throat. His breath was hot, rolling in gentle waves over Adam’s exposed skin, sending shivers down his spine. Adam swallowed thickly, trying to ignore the way Lucifer’s warm body felt pressed up against his, or how his claws—gentle but possessive—were wrapped securely around his waist, holding him in place.

Behind him, Angel Lucifer was equally as close, his cool breath washing over the back of Adam’s neck, making the sensitive skin there prickle with goosebumps. His soft, ethereal hands were wrapped around Adam’s chest, the gentle motions of his fingers rubbing over his skin in his sleep, as though even in his dreams, he needed to touch Adam.

Adam squirmed lightly, trying to shift without waking either of them, but it was no use. He was completely enveloped, pinned between two opposing forces—heat and cold, fire and ice. His oversized t-shirt had somehow ridden up during the night, exposing more skin than he was comfortable with, especially given how close the two Lucifers were. He could feel the heat from one, the coolness from the other, and it was doing strange things to him, sending a wave of chills and tension coursing through his body.

His heart raced, his cheeks blazing a deeper shade of red as he tried to process the situation. He had never been sandwiched between two bodies like this, especially not two otherworldly beings as beautiful as these. Every slight movement made him more aware of their proximity—the soft rise and fall of their breathing, the heat and coolness of their skin, the way their hands seemed to cling to him even in sleep.

Adam shivered again, his body responding in ways he didn’t fully understand. Why was suited Lucifer so hot—practically burning against him—while Angel Lucifer felt like the embodiment of winter? He didn’t know if he liked it or if it made him more confused, but what he did know was that his body was tensing up, caught in the strange mix of sensations, the overwhelming closeness of them.

With a sharp intake of breath, Adam tried to calm the storm of emotions inside him. He had to get control of himself, to figure out how to extricate himself from this rather compromising position. But every attempt to move only seemed to press him deeper into their embrace, their bodies shifting slightly, but never letting go.

He tilted his head, trying to catch a glimpse of suited Lucifer's face, and his breath hitched again. Lucifer's sharp, golden eyes were still closed, his lips parted slightly as he exhaled softly against Adam’s neck, sending another shiver cascading down his spine. Adam’s gaze then flicked to the angelic version of Lucifer, who still snuggled into the curve of his back, his wings tucked neatly, his cool breath tickling Adam's nape.

Adam’s heart hammered wildly in his chest, torn between the sheer absurdity and seduction of the moment. He wanted to laugh, to question how the hell he ended up like this, but his voice caught in his throat, stifled by the strange, intoxicating pull of it all.

What was he supposed to do?

Moving carefully, Adam gulped. He could feel something pressing into his backside, something hard and projecting out from the angel Lucifer. He could also feel the exact same thing pressed against his front. Adam moved and gasped, feeling both hard cocks rub against him. He clenched his teeth and glanced at both Lucifer’s face. Their eyebrows furrowed in their sleeps and suddenly, both of them grinded their hips forward, making Adam shudder.

Shit.

What should he do? He couldn't crawl out from between the two of them. They were holding him so securely. Practically squishing him between them. He really did feel like a sandwich.

They both continued to grind into him, rubbing their hardening cocks even more upon him. To the point Adam’s oversized shirt raised higher, revealing his own private parts. Adam’s breath hitched, his body stiffening up further, he should have put something on. He should have grabbed a pair of shorts or something, but he didn’t. He didn’t think, he felt so stupid now.

A gasp escaped him as the suited lucifer began to roll his hips firmly against him, his harden cock beginning to rub fully against his exposed cock. Adam winced, closing his eyes briefly as pleasure began to run through him. When he opened them again, he found Lucifer’s fiery eyes open and staring at him. He was flushed, his golden hair sticking to his forehead and panting softly. In fact, he looked almost feverous? As if he was suddenly under a sickness. Adam wanted to ask him if he was alright but couldn’t get any words out.

Adam’s own eyes widened as he found suited Lucifer suddenly awake and not asleep. He parted his lips to speak, but Lucifer shook his head. He suddenly shuffled himself, pulling his hips back for a few seconds. If it was possible, Adam’s eyes widened further as he felt something new push up against his cock. He tried to look down but couldn’t, suited Lucifer immediately pushed his face into his throat, beginning to nip and lick at his throat.

Suited Lucifer had unbuttoned his white pants and pulled out his own cock. He rubbed it against Adam’s, making sure their heads licked, nipped and kissed. He groaned, shuddering into Adam’s body. He knew what he was doing was wrong. He was practically taking advantage of this other Adam, but his body wouldn’t settle down. His body was flaring with want. A sort of desire he had felt since Eden.

He shuddered even more, pressing himself firmly against Adam’s front.

Meanwhile, angel Lucifer’s sapphire blue eyes were wide in shock but also fascination. He was peeking over Adam’s shoulder, his arms tightening around Adam’s front. Lucifer didn’t know why, but seeing Adam – his Adam squirming and trembling with such a lovely expression was making his insides twist with coldness. Not unpleasant coldness as all. In fact he liked it very much.

Between his legs was a new sensation. Something that he couldn’t help but buckle into Adam’s ass. Lucifer nuzzled his face into the back of Adam’s throat, whimpering softly into the flesh and deciding to try what his otherself was doing. He parted his plump lips and licked at Adam’s flesh. Fuck. It tasted so good. Angel Lucifer began to lick more furiously at the skin, nipping with his teeth and sucking. His hands rubbed across Adam’s chest, he became fascinated when he discovered Adam’s nipples had grown hard. When Adam moaned from the touch, Angel Lucifer began to rub them even harsher. Playing with them, twisting them and pinching them until Adam was a moaning mess between the two Lucifers.

A new hunger grow within both Lucifers. Their hands and claws pulling at Adam's t-shirt, ripping it with the strong desire to touch his skin. To mark it up and stain it. They both wanted Adam gasping and moaning between them.

Later, as the world outside remained cloaked in shadows, the soft stirrings of Lucifer—the Munchkin, of course—disrupted the tranquil stillness in the small flat. The snow-white cat stretched languidly, his velvety fur shimmering under the dim light as he rolled over in his plush bed. He blinked open his piercing blue eyes, sensing something off. A strange energy lingered in the air, tugging at his instincts, and his ears twitched in response. His long, luxurious tail swished lazily, but there was a sharpness to his gaze that hadn’t been there before.

Hours ago, he’d felt restless, his usual spot on Adam’s bed turning into a battlefield of temperatures—one side too hot, the other too cold. It was unbearable for the proud feline. Despite his strong attachment to his Adam, he’d reluctantly hopped off the bed, padding silently across the room to his little cat bed, where he had stretched out, basking in his own space. Finally, some peace.

But now, something was wrong. Very wrong.

Lucifer rolled over again, his sleek body shifting restlessly. His sharp claws unsheathed as he kneaded his bed, his instincts flaring. His fluffy ears stood erect, alert and twitching, picking up faint sounds that made his fur bristle. A low, almost imperceptible growl rumbled from the back of his throat as he turned his head, his sharp eyes darting toward the bed.

And that’s when he saw it...or them!

His Adam. Trapped. Smothered.

Between them.

His lovely, beauitful Adam was exposed, naked as the day he was born. A sight that belonged to him alone. Adam was bouncing heatly on the lap on the devil Lucifer, who was gazing up at him with an expression of awe and warmth. Angel Lucifer was on Adam's lap, taking Adam''s cock fully up his own ass.

All three of them were gasping and moaning. Angel Lucifer was clinging to Adam, his arms locked around his shoulder and face buried into Adam's throat.

His fur puffed up in outrage, standing on end, giving him the appearance of a fluffed-up snowball with a temper. He let out a low, menacing hiss, the sound slicing through the moaning music like a knife. His precious Adam—his human—was sandwiched between the two imposters, the two-legged versions of himself. The indignity of it all sent his feline senses into overdrive.

Lucifer’s hiss grew louder, his blue eyes narrowing in sheer disbelief.

How dare they? How dare they touch what was his!

His Adam was his. His. And yet here they were, acting as though they belonged there, as though they had any right to be so close, so… intimate. They were there taking advantage of his Adam!

He padded forward, creeping silently across the floor with his signature feline grace, but his fury was unmistakable. The claws came out, tapping softly against the hardwood floor as his growling deepened. Lucifer's gaze locked onto the intruders, his tail twitching with irritation. He could almost feel the heat radiating from the suited Lucifer cradling Adam on his lap, and the cool, ethereal chill coming from the angelic one on top of Adam. Their mere presence made his skin crawl.

With a final, sharp hiss, Lucifer leapt onto the bed, his small but proud body landing squarely in the middle of the trio. He bared his teeth, his hiss turning into a threatening snarl, causing the three of them freeze in disblief.

Adam blinked down at his cat, it took him a moment to realize what was going on. His face already flulshed fully as he wondered if he should somehow untangle himself? He even began to squirm, trying to get out from between them, but both Lucifer's held him fast.

"We're busy." Suited Lucifer said, meeting the angry cat's glare with one of his own. "Adam's spending time with us right now."

Angel Lucifer made a hum, opening his mouth but only moaning. Suited Lucifer buckled up into Adam which forced Adam to thrust up into the Angel. Lucifer sighed deeply, returning to bouncing harshly on Adam's lap.

Suited Lucifer's eyes brightened up as Adam began to moan and whine once more. He quickly began to thurst up into him.

The munchkin didn't back down, he waited until the three was done. When they were, the moment Adam was delicately laid down, he wedged himself right between Adam and the two Lucifers, glaring at both of them with a mixture of disgust and warning.

"Lucifer!" Adam chuckled tiredly.

Angel Lucifer tried to snuggle into Adam but the cat hissed at him.

“Oh, come now,” Angel Lucifer cooed, his voice soft and soothing as he reached out a hand toward the cat. "Don’t be like that. We’re just—"

Before he could finish, the Munchkin let out a warning growl, his tail swishing violently as he swiped at the angel's hand, just barely missing it with a flick of his sharp claws.

"Ow!" Angel Lucifer yelped, pulling his hand back quickly, his wide eyes brimming with hurt. "He’s so mean to me."

“I told you he’d be trouble,” suited Lucifer muttered, rubbing his temple as though he had a headache. His glowing golden eyes narrowed at the puffed-up Munchkin, but he made no move to touch him, clearly already understanding the boundaries. “He's so jealous we got to play with Adam and he didn't.”

Cat Lucifer hissed again.

."He’s just being protective," Adam hummed, pulling his cat Lucifer closer to him. He pressed soft kisses along the fluffy white cat's face.

“Lucifer—" he paused, realizing how confusing that name was in this context, "uh, baby, they’re guests. You have to be nice.”

Lucifer, the cat, wasn’t having it. He bared his teeth again, his eyes flashing dangerously as if to say, They can be guests on the floor! They're never too touch you again!

Adam sighed, giving the little Munchkin a gentle scratch behind his ear, trying to soothe his temper.

“It’s okay, baby,” he whispered. “They won’t take your spot.”

The cat reluctantly settled, but not before giving one last icy glare at the two humanoid versions of himself, as if warning them to stay in their lane.

Both Lucifers shared a look - oh! This will not be the last time they play with the cat's Adam.