#and a broken human's love of an angel he feared he could never deserve... and that's the love that can defeat every cosmic power out there

[dreamsinmoonlight]

I have a yandere alastor idea for you... Could you do it? Imagine the reader being one of the unfortunate people who was killed by the alastor when he was human... Human! Alastor never felt these strong feelings for anyone, until the reader appeared in his life, the reader was a kind and caring person with everyone, always treating everyone the same... Now I imagine when Alastor discovered that these feelings were love for the reader, but the reader rejected him because he already loved other people... Maybe Alastor, in his desperate and psychotic environment, unintentionally killed the reader...

(now currently) the reader became an angel and was chosen to help Charlie at the hotel (of course the reader doesn't know that Alastor is at the hotel and this happens after the battle)...

Now what would happen?

(Fudge knuckles, this, um, it set off something in my head because I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. Admittedly couldn't imagine turning down Alastor but I can try to imagine it for this XD

Um I would have started this earlier but I was watching stuff with my friends yesterday when I got this. Point is I'm creating it now despite wanting to space out my creations, oops~

So i wasn't sure if you wanted the reader to be male or not (since you said "because he already loved other people") so I'm going gender neutral again on this. Sorry if you wanted male specifically >w<

Alastor uses "doe" as a petname for you which yes is female but I like the idea of it so I apologize for that.

Totes writing this after looking deep into my Alastor plushies eyes and while watching A Haunting in Venice. Don't ask why.

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Characters: yandere!Alastor, angel!reader

Pairing: Guess

Genre: What genre does yandere being yandere fit in? Hurt? Ain't no comfort here

Summary: Sir Pentious should have told you, oh god, why did he not warn you.)

Oh Doe

Emily assured you this would be a lovely thing; she spoke with excitement and sweetness and love of her dear friend Charlie, of that wonderful princess of hell. And the newcomer Sir Pentious, well he had plenty himself of his time there, of his growing friendships and those strange fascinating souls for whom he'd given his life. For whom he was sent up to heaven, redeemed at last. It was hard for you not to be excited, your wings all a flutter as the portal opened to allow you entrance to Down Below, to Hell. To the Hazbin Hotel.

You found the place extremely warm and it took you a moment to remember that of course it was such. It was Hell after all. You smiled as you did so and approached the hotel, amazed by it's grandness. You'd heard about the great battle between the exterminators and the hotel residents; the loss of Adam had been both a great blow and an admitted relief in some. He had been many things to many people, you mainly saw him from a distance like most angels, but the idea that an angel as powerful as him could be felled sent emotions through Heaven that were less than pleasant. You of course never feared though, a kind soul through and through, one able and willing to see the good and warmth in all. Even, you'd be the first to admit, that of perhaps those who certainly didn't deserve it.

Your eyes found the design fascinating. There was something familiar in it, in the silhouette of it, of the flash of it, the strange apple shaped tower. And the one opposite to it, strange and ominous, and in it something felt as it was watching you with far too much interest. You felt, for the first time in decades, shivers down your spine and could half remember a voice.

"Oh doe, my doe, you have done something terrible. You've broken something deep inside me and you won't even be good enough to fix it." You had not thought about it in a very long time, those words, the last thing you heard from a voice as smooth as velvet, sweet as honey, and poisonous as a viper. It dug deep, it was embedded in your soul, for better or worse, along with all the regrets and sadnesses of a life left unfinished.

"Oh you must be the angel Emily told me about!" You were ripped from your memories by a voice and your wings expanded in surprise as you looked towards the door to see what you had to guess was Charlie Magne herself.

She was bright and cheery, the strangest sight of sunlight in the depths of Hell, but her eyes sparkled and she ran over to you, taking your hands in hers and shaking them excitedly, "Oh, Emily said an angel would come down to help but really after everything that happened, you know with the trial and the fight and all of that, well, who really thought that Heaven would really send down an angel? And to help us no doubt! I'm so excited, seriously, really, just-"

"Charlie," said the voice of Vaggie; she was another angel, Emily had mentioned her, and she looked at Charlie with a soft look before turning her eye to you. It was so....it was hard to describe, not entirely hostile, not certainly friendly; you knew very little of her, of her fall, of what happened, but you suspected that she had less than friendly memories of angels. Still you smiled warmly back at her, not blaming her her feelings, how could you when you didn't truly know her; you certainly hoped to change that with your time here.

She was not the only one looking at you with at least a little suspicion. In the aftermath of battle and rebuilding, there would of course be such for an angel walking up to the hotel. The tall one, the spider sinner Angel Dust, tilted his head at you with eyes hidden by sunglasses, hands on his hips. Beside him was Husk; Sir Pentious had called him the bartender, he had not mentioned how fluffy and soft he looked, with his own wings ruffling behind him with a look even more suspicious than Vaggie's own. To both still you smiled and waved, hoping to make friends, to prove yourself.

There were more; you knew there were because you'd been told. But try as you might, while you remembered Sir Pentious mentioning how Lucifer often was around, not there currently of course, and there was supposed to be a little one-eyed maid named Nifty, Sir Pentious' love Cherry Bomb, you couldn't quite remember who else he mentioned. You knew there was one more, one more resident, one more sinner. Who....who....

"Come on, let me show you around," Charlie said and there again was that bright smile. You liked her, she was a warm kind soul; she reminded you of what everyone always accused you of being. Yet deep down you couldn't help but feel you weren't though, that Charlie was kinder, that Charlie was sweeter.

Because Charlie wouldn't have broken someone's heart like you had.

She dragged you along, such strength for such a small girl, and you were delighted by the beauty of the inside of the hotel as well. Down your back you still felt the chills, still felt the sensation of being watched, but you told yourself it was nothing and enjoyed the tour.

"Husk is the bartender of course, Angel is our resident....well, resident; our housekeeper Nifty is running around somewhere," Charlie said cheerfully, showing you all around, "And my dad is currently at home but he'll be back soon; oh he'll be so surprised to see you, we haven't had an angel here since...oh...well..." she trailed off and looked embarrassed.

You laughed sweetly and smiled at her. "No worries at all princess, I understand. The situation was terrible and on behalf of Heaven, I am so sorry for what happened; you never should have been put in such a position to have to fight to protect yourself like that. But you all survived and Sir Pentious spoke so lovingly of you all, I am delighted to have the chance to meet you and assist you with redeeming souls so they may come to Heaven too."

Charlie looked at you and you recognized it, though it felt strange coming from someone as sunshine as her. It was a look you were well used to, one you had gotten a lot in life, when you helped someone who was down on their luck by giving them everything in your pockets, when you showed kindness and love to any and all around you; people didn't always understand, they didn't often want to. Charlie, you suspected, did on both regards but having grown up in Hell, though she too saw the good in all around her, there still must be a part of her that felt uncertain when faced with a true kindred spirit. You noticed from the corner of your eye Vaggie's expression change, of course she would see it too, to something a little softer but still with plenty of apprehension. You were not fake though in your goodness; you had become an angel for good reason, Sera and Emily had always told you so.

Something felt like it was chuckling and you could have sworn you heard it again. "Oh doe, my doe, how is it you can brighten up a whole room with that bleeding heart of yours?"

"Ooooooh!" Charlie said and proceeded to capture you in a massive bearhug; the strength of a hellborn, especially Lucifer's daughter, was quite impressive and you blinked a few times before chuckling.

She continued. "I like you a lot, you seem like just what we need!"

"Oh great another softie just like our princess," said Angel Dust, walking up behind you both.

Charlie let go of you with a pout. "Angel, what's that supposed to mean?"

"That means you're too soft for your own good and so are they," Husk said, "Which, by the way, what even is your name anyway, angel?"

"You know my name," Angel Dust said playfully and nudged Husk, making the sinner grumble.

"Not you, spider, the actual angel."

"Oh me," you said, smiling again before stating your name.

You didn't expect how pale he got. You didn't expect that someone as furry as him could even go pale. Maybe it was just that his eyes widened and you got the sense he recognized your name; you opened your mouth to ask what was wrong, why he was looking at you like that but he grabbed Charlie's arm, tight if her wince was any indication.

"Princess, we need to talk, now," he said.

"Husk what's wrong?" Charlie asked and Vaggie frowned as the cat-bird sinner pulled her away from you and down the hall.

You watched as Vaggie and Angel Dust threw you a confused look then Husk one before following after him, leaving you there, alone. The hotel was quiet, they moved far enough for whatever was on his mind for you to not hear; you choose that it was probably something important and you weren't too worried. Of course they didn't trust you entirely yet to talk about important things around you, not after what happened. You kept your smile and your faith and decided to take the chance to look about the hotel for yourself.

There were many floors and many rooms. Most were empty, many were locked; you thought to yourself of how beautiful this place would be when more souls came, to be redeemed and finally go to heaven. Oh it would be wonderful, full of voices and singing and laughter and happiness. You know you were chosen for this role but you certainly couldn't have imagined any better one; to help people was something you very much enjoyed doing and this felt like the best way to do so with your afterlife.

Yet the happy thoughts felt...cold here somehow. Colder still as you kept walking. The sensations continued, of being watched, of something staring. You tried to ignore it, certain it was nothing. That surely the shadows weren't somehow watching you; that was all that there were after all, just the hotel and the shadows.

Your own little tour led to a specific door and you weren't too sure what brought you there. By your estimates it was the door that would lead to a room connected to that strange tower, the ominous one, the one you'd felt had been watching you. You stood before the door for a moment, staring at the doorknob before pulling yourself together, your wings fluttering, your heart racing a little. This was silly, you were being silly; you reached out for the doorknob to open the door.

It opened on it's own, before you could even touch it, and from inside you heard something familiar. Jazz music, a taste of home; it touched your heart and your smile turned soft and nostalgic, reminded so much of those days when you'd been alive. Visions of New Orleans crossed your mind and without thinking you stepped inside, entranced by the music; you started to sing along, knowing this song by heart.

"Oh doe, my doe," said a voice and while the music kept playing, you no longer could hear it, for the blood that couldn't rush that did rush past your ears as the good memories faded away.

He'd always played it, a dedication just to you he always told you. That melodious voice, that bright smile; it was tinged, tainted, but the crackle of radio filter to it reminded you of the days sitting in your living room, listening to him talk, never imagining what he truly was, who he truly was. Your dearest friend, for years and years.

"Alastor." The name tasted like fear on your tongue and you turned to stare, with eyes as wide as a deer's in headlights, at the tall figure who stood there, gently closing the door behind you both.

So much had changed yet not much at all. He still smiled so friendly, so warm, and you once believed so much in it, in what soul could be behind it. Until the day he confessed and you, foolish, foolish you, who loved and loved and loved and didn't know yet how to take being loved, had turned him down. He'd called you his doe, then he'd stabbed you through the heart.

His smile twitched and he tilted his head, red eyes focused on you. He wore a monocle instead of glasses, you thought feebly to yourself how you'd liked the glasses; the slightly tattered coat, the neat little bowtie, the essence of suaveness, the sharp claws clenching so lightly a long thin cane with a microphone on the end, it all suited him in some way. You remembered his hair as brown; it now was reddish, red like the rest of him. Red like your blood must have been on his clothes.

"My doe," he said and reached out with one hand, cupping your chin; you were frozen, unable to resist, unable to speak anything but his name in a terrified whisper, "It seems Heaven's sent you back to me."

You didn't want to die. You were sure he would kill you again. But he continued to smile, with those sharp teeth like a sharks he had, and looked you over, examined. "I must say, I'm not surprised you're an angel; you always were one, you just needed the wings."

That hand moved, from your chin to one of your wings and a whimper left you as you felt him stroke your feathers, biting your lip and closing your eyes.

"The question is though, my doe," he said and his tone never changed; it was playful, light, and ever so dangerous, "Do I let you keep them or do I rip them off of you? Can't have you escaping me again, can I?"

"Alastor, please," you whispered, begged, "Please..."

"Though if I did that Charlie might complain," he said and chuckled, "And I wouldn't want that. Promise me then, my doe, promise me you won't try to run away."

"I promise." You just wanted to be safe, you just wanted him not to hurt you. You remembered death, it had hurt so much.

"Good doe," he said and pulled away, patting you on the head, "Now come on, remember to smile; you're never fully dressed without one."

He smiled at you and you smiled back. Not because you wanted to. But because something, deep down, from that day, from all those days you'd spent with him, and all the days you knew to come, that if you didn't, it wouldn't end well.

The door burst in soon after and Vaggie seemed on the attack while Angel grabbed you to pull you behind him, Charlie apologizing over and over, "I didn't know, Husk told us all about what happened, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have let you wander off on your own".

"No worries princess, I was just greeting our new angelic guest," Alastor said with cheer and friendliness.

Husk glared at him, his wings expanded, his eyes narrowed. You tried to reassure Charlie; you couldn't even really reassure yourself. But something in seeing her so worried, Husk so on edge, Vaggie with her spear and Angel standing there as if he could or would do anything, make almost seem like this could still be okay. You could still see the bright side in this, goodness, the light.

Even when facing down the greatest devil you knew.

[alessabriel]

Karma

Cw. Adam x ReaderDaughterSeraphim, blood, inaccurate representations of Hazbin Hotel heaven and hell, typical canon violence, angst, Lettore! She's a minor seraph and represents innocence (idk if it exists but it fits) and use of "Lettore" which is Reader (only in Italian because it looks cute).

Karma was a bitch at times, and unfortunately he was witnessing it first hand.

Adam felt his soul boil, catch fire on the spot and standing here, still standing next to Sera witnessing what was definitely fracturing his mind, his psyche and everything that could be broken; his daughter, his blood and flesh, his daughter who had been created in his image by god, a daughter who came not from an act, but from a divine creation, a daughter he loved with all his being, who he would love (did she deserve his love? ) and for whom he always intended to return alive, always to return to her to answer all her endless questions and show her every little thing of the human world he brought for her eyes only, he fed her innocent curiosity keeping her within the line no angel or seraph should cross.

He was a coward, whispered a voice in her head.

She could hear the painful sound of something tearing away from the skin, from the body, she could witness something that ensured a hellish pain, but that her daughter kept quietly scratching the floor leaving bleeding marks of her fingers on the white floor and those marks did not leave her mind, the heartbreaking sound of something falling that she did not have the strength to see and a gasp before finding calm, when could her daughter endure such suffering? The sound of tearing was a sound that threatened to rupture her eardrums; a sinuous sound full of suffering in silence, there was not a single wail or sob. No painful wailing dared to come out of his daughter and a suffering that Adam could not calm in his daughter, because he was a coward and did not want to take the opposite, he did not want to but he was shedding tears seeing her, seeing his daughter on the ground hunched over herself and without her wings, without the wings that he had taught her to use, had taught her to fly and how to feel comfortable with her.

His daughter, the daughter he loved above all (Do you really love her? whispered a voice in his mind).

The daughter who always looked at him with admiration in her eyes.

Daughter who always awaited his return in the evenings, with pleasant chats and a dinner they made together.

His little angel that he watched grow, that he raised and that he watched become a seraph.

The daughter he let suffer.

Adam never felt so impotent, dirty and disgusting that at that moment, he did nothing, he could not because something bound him, was it fear, maybe yes, maybe not, but he was a deplorable father, horrible and a filthy coward who could not do anything, and because of his fear, his cowardice, he looked away.

Like the ridiculous coward he was, whispered a voice in Adam's mind.

The silence in the room was sepulchral, worthy of a divine funeral and the older seraphim; Sera only witnessed the younger seraphim (would she have the strength to do the same if she were Emily? ) on the floor, golden blood dripping perpetually staining the white dress and she didn't know if it was fear, regret she felt at her lack of sounds, she only witnessed her scratching the floor with such force that she herself was finishing her nails, but no sound came out of her throat not when her golden halo was unraveling.

"You are aware of the punishment being meted out to you, aren't you Lettore?" question Será with a cold tone, worthy of a merciless executioner.

The younger seraphim; Lettore just regulated her breathing, everything was a mess of voices in her head threatening to break her did she deserve it, she didn't know, she didn't know where she stood and the pain was so overwhelming, but regardless it didn't matter, it would never matter not when what she held were her ideals.

"...I will never take back what I did, what I think" hissed Lettore raising her head for the first time directing an icy and mocking look at the older seraph, years that seemed eternal living in an innocence, a delicate golden cage that father and Sera kept around you, urging you to keep the inhabitants of heaven innocent and oblivious, what a mockery "...you can rip off my wings a thousand times and send me to hell, but I will never accept this damn corrupt heaven."

Adam had never seen his daughter so determined, with so much hatred, cold and mockery in her eyes always bright with love and innocence had she always been like this?

And in the twinkling of an eye, she was thrown into hell, like the hundreds or thousands of sinners that the murderer killed for the second time in each extermination.

[queersouthasian]

Since Pit Babe's end is knocking at the door, I am back in my CharlieBabe feels. I think no relationship will get to me the way they did. I will always be in awe about how human they are and how much humans can love if they want to.

I will never get over how pain shaped Charlie and Babe so differently. Pain shaped Charlie's kindness, his way of loving and caring, his want to give. He has grown up to be the exact person he wished he had growing up. A kind soul who cares so much, who loves so much. But Charlie isn't naive or stupid. Even though he is a natural caretaker he doesn't let people take advantage of him. He is careful and smart while being a giver. And there is Babe, who just wanted to be loved and wanted to love, but was wounded in the attempt to do so that it ruined the definition of love for him. He started believing that love can only bring him pain. This pain shaped his defense. Even though he had found a family of his own, he didn't let anyone venture into those parts of him which hurt the most. He was a desirable sexy alpha racer for everyone, the "Pit Babe", until he became someone's "Phi Babe",

Charlie's arrival was like a gentle knock, where he lets him in thinking he could kick him away anytime, until he could no longer do so, till he feared the idea of the latter's absence alone. It's the way Charlie buries his pain under his smile whereas Babe does it under his cockyness, smugness, so called ego. Charlie picked up babe's broken pieces, some being so sharp it cut through him, but he kept picking those up. And he caressed them. Whereas babe took Charlie's and made them his. They both shared each other's pain. Charlie is loud in love and silent in pain just like babe is the opposite.

But what makes them and their love so human is their flaws. It's the way babe wants to fight along side Charlie but Charlie pushes him away so that he doesn't even get a single scratch on him. But can you blame him? Babe himself wants to fight together but at the face of danger, covers Charlie with his whole body, pushes him back so he doesn't get hurt, so no one can touch him. They can't find equality to save their fucking lives 'cause they are each other's priority, at the face of danger, they would both die and kill for the other.

Their love brings pain and grief as well. Charlie lies and lies 'cause when it comes to his beloved being safe and happy, he would do anything. Anything. Babe may hate him but atleast he will be safe and in peace but Charlie can't fathom that. Charlie fears babe hating him, misunderstanding him. That's why instead of being happy after the "death" that babe is safe, everything assured, he is grieving and is in guilt. He has caused his lover pain again unintentionally. Whereas for babe this grief hits different. He thinks he deserved it, 'cause he didn't let Charlie know how much he meant to him, how much he loved him when he could. He lost Charlie, he lost that one thing he had which he didn't even dare to wish for before, a love, a genuine lover. It was like loosing something extremely valuable for him. He was supposed to keep him safe. But he lost him. He blames himself for not loving his beloved in the same volume. Whenever they locked eyes before, babe had this "I can't believe I have you, What did I do to deserve you" whereas Charlie has this "you deserve every piece of me and more" look on their faces, in their stares. Babe would look like he has found the most beautiful angel whereas Charlie would look like babe has hung stars in the sky. In the last ep, when Charlie comes in to save, even though still physically weak, driven by rage that people hurt babe, his face changes from anger to concern and love and guilt, "I am here for you" whereas for babe his eyes immediately turn red glistening with tears, bewilderment mixed with hope. A hope of finally finding that lost thing, a "finally you are here"

This relationship will last beyond generations and lifetimes, in which every version of them, will search for the other. A love so human it feels like a hope. A hope to love again.

[heliads]

Hi, same anon who asked before! Can I please request Goody with a female reader who’s secretly a witch and a member of the seven and he finds out when she uses magic during a fight and takes out like ten guys at once? Thanks so much ❤️❤️

this is incredible. magnificent seven fans we must find each other

masterlist

Witches are not real. We love stories, all of us, tall tales and fables and legends too, but they’re not real. No matter how many times your older cousins whisper things to you under the cover of nightfall, terrible, twisted imaginings about elderly crones with raven familiars or eternally youthful enchantresses compelled to grind the bones of wrongdoers, we know they are not real. The glow of the firelight makes you think they could be real, but they are, at the end of the day, just stories. Stories, and nothing more.

Witches are real, because you are. There is no telling how it happened, what combination of full moons and thirteenth Fridays, black cats and broken mirrors, all manifested to make you what you are. We are a product of what we need. Perhaps your family needed the protection that a normal daughter could not bring. Perhaps they just deserved the curse of you. No one can tell for sure.

You grew up in a small town, same as everyone else’s but wonderfully original, too. The lanterns that swayed when a cold wind blew in were a particular shade of muted gold known only to you, the floors creak in a tune that no one else would hear quite like you did. Backcountry village dwellers know the clopping of new hoofs, the signal of a newcomer, and they know how the sun beats down on your back after a long day of work, but they’ll never know your particular shade of it.

It was a quiet upbringing, for the most part. Your mother raised you right, and turned a blind eye when you took to foraging in the woods for plants and stones she did not recognize. She wasn’t too pleased about the whole affair at first, but then one of the younger boys across the street broke her favorite ceramic jug, the one her mother had made. You fixed it with a few muttered words and a twist of your wrist, and after that your specific brand of devilry was allowed in the house so long as no one else saw it.

No child likes to hide away forever, though, not when they feel there’s nothing about them unduly wrong. Perhaps the devil himself had chosen to make you a little more than human, or perhaps the angels lingered too long over your cradle when you were a baby, but regardless of the source, you were still you, still good, and you didn’t see why that warranted the need to forever live in shame and fear of discovery.

You came close one night. You were old enough to outgrow your mother but too young to match her wisdom. In an attempt to help your family, you were almost discovered while trying to turn the smallish squirrel one of your brothers caught into something better, something that could feed all of you. One of the neighbors had decided to do a little poking around at the time you were spellcasting, and that little glimpse could have cost you everything. 

They never saw anything outright suspicious, but it was too close, and the prospect of a witch hunt wouldn’t do you any good out here when no one would speak up for you. People don’t like girls with mouths to run. No one would defend such a witch from the flame.

If the town will not protect the girl, then the girl will protect herself. You ran far away, far enough away that no one had heard your name and certainly didn’t care to listen to it. You find work here and there, never quite enough pay to make you settle in one place but enough to keep you alive. You pass from village to village, city to city, and somehow along the way, you find a little place called Rose Creek.

It’s not a marvel by any means. This is a town. You have seen many of its kind before, countless iterations of the same style of brick and mortar and abandoned hopes for better things. The faces are new, the people down on different kinds of luck, but it’s largely the same as always. You were planning on repeating your usual schedule of sticking around for a few months before hitting the road again lest someone discover you, but then you hear about the situation they’ve got going on and you decide otherwise.

A man named Sam Chisholm is putting together a plan to release Rose Creek from some kind of mining tycoon. He’s asking for every able hand to pitch in, something you hear about when you ride in later that night. Over time, you’ve had to learn how to defend yourself from a great many sharp-eyed bullies who’ve found you out, so your marksmanship is as good as any hired gun. 

You find Sam’s main group sitting around a table at a nearby saloon and decide to offer up your services. Doing good makes you feel better, eases the heavy burden that always seems to press against your ribs after too many long nights. When you have gifts like yours and you don’t use them to help, it’s as good as aiding the enemy.

The men take your offer about as expected. One of them, a cocky hotshot you later learn is called Faraday, actually starts laughing. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he chokes out between guffaws, “I don’t think you’re made for the front lines. Maybe you can help get the rest of the women and children to safety, though?”

You arch a brow. The rest of the group has the decency to shake their heads and look away, avoiding eye contact. “Alright,” you tell him coolly, “Just to ease my temper, though, would y’want to engage in a bit of a shooting contest? Since we’re so far from the front lines now, I’m sure I’ll survive somehow.”

Faraday grins and agrees to your challenge in a heartbeat, smirking over at his friends like he isn’t stressed about losing in the slightest. One of the men looks like he might have to disagree with Faraday’s bravado, though. He’s a little older than the man rolling his eyes as he heads out to the targets outside the saloon, and looks at you with a smile you’re pretty sure is with you instead of just at your expense.

This second man chuckles a little to himself, takes a swallow of the drink in front of him, and tells you to make Faraday wager on the contest, just so your opponent can embarrass himself a little more. You laugh at that, raising your hand in mock salute before joining Faraday outside the saloon. The rules of the shooting contest are agreed upon; three targets from increasingly far distances, closest to the center wins.

Five rounds later, Faraday’s swears increase in volume as he loses progressively more money, and you’re sitting at Sam Chisholm’s table, discussing the group’s plan to rid Rose Creek of its rather oppressive hosts. You learn the names and attitudes of all those at the table, including the one who’d known you’d win from the start.

Goodnight Robicheaux is not what you’d expected of him. You’ve heard stories of an ex-soldier with a gift for bloodthirst, as the so-called Angel of Death is a tale that’s spread far and wide even without Goodnight’s input, but you hadn’t expected the actual man behind the myth to be quite like him. Goody’s nice, a decent man and a better shot, but you wouldn’t connect the name with the body unless someone told you. Goodnight doesn’t like showing off with a gun.

In fact, he doesn’t like touching a weapon at all. You can tell that it’s starting to rankle Faraday and the rest of the men from Rose Creek who’ve agreed to help out– here you have a legend of the war, and he won’t even look at a gun– but Goodnight steadfastly refuses to give in to their not so silent pressure. He offers advice and has promised to help liberate the town, but he will not become the man of such fear and admiration.

You have to respect it. Although you haven’t asked Goody why he won’t shoot a round with the rest, you can guess as to why. Death doesn’t come easy to everyone. This man is a soldier. Was a soldier. He knows what it is to hate what you are. You can understand that better than anyone.

Maybe that’s why the two of you have gotten along so well. You talk when you want to, swap stories when you wish it, but when the nights get long and neither of you can sleep for memories both of you want to hide, you can find him pacing the streets of the town, and you know that you are not alone. Sometimes you walk for miles in the silence, and you have never felt more secure.

The day of the attack sneaks up on you. Bogue’s men show up on the horizon, too many, too strong, but Rose Creek won’t waver and neither will you. You all have your places to be so this mad plan can be orchestrated, so when the sun starts to flood across the sky, you hurry to your station, ready your gun, and prepare your mind to die.

You swore to yourself that you would not use magic during this fight. You don’t need your spells, not really; you’ve long since learned that it’s safer to use a gun to fight off attackers, so you trust your aim in cases like this. The benefit of magic, though, is its strength. Picking off enemy fighters one by one with a gun is nothing compared to how simple it would be to pull up energy from the ground and condemn a dozen men to their graves in the span of half a second.

You can feel it gnawing at you throughout the fight, the knowledge of how easy it would be to end it all. Is it not a sort of betrayal to your friends, to have the capacity to save them all the faster but refuse to use it? You are helping them with your guns right now, but could it ever be enough?

You will not use your spells. You cannot. You should not. Bogue’s men seem to pour out of every cavity in every wall, a thousand rats in a plague upon your friends. If this is your last stand, so be it. It is a good thing to die for a good cause. Better when you’ve spent your whole life running in the hopes of finding something like it.

There is one thing you cannot accept, however, and that is the death of someone you care about. It is one thing to rationalize your own self-sacrifice, but when you look across the battlefield and realize that the bullets of a Gatling gun are about to speed across town and wreck the very church steeple in which Goodnight and Billy are stationed in, the shock and fear of it cuts you like a blade to the heart. 

There is no time, none at all. The trigger has already been pulled. There is nothing any man could do to save them, not up there. You will have the perfect view as they fall from all the way up there. And you look up at him, up on the steeple, and you know that he is not coming down. Not unless you do something. Not unless you do it now.

Nothing no man could do. You are no regular man. It is the easiest thing in the world to think of what you wish. The magic responds instantly, tugging away from your fingers and into the earth. It’s like it’s been waiting this whole time, begging to be used. Clouds of dust rise up from the streets, forming a perfect circle around the church. Then, in a flash, they move out, blocking everything in their path. The bullets ricochet off, finding new targets in the sides of buildings and even enemy soldiers. You count a dozen downed fighters, maybe more than that, all having previously aimed to kill your friends. All dead now.

The Gatling gun goes silent. All is quiet for a moment. You see silhouettes shifting up in the church steeple, and even from this distance, you recognize Goody when he stands and stares at you. Your hands are raised. No one else had been focused on the steeple except for you. There is no proof that you could do something like that, but he does not need proof to explain what he feels, what he knows right now.

We do not ask questions when impossible things happen. Not when they are good. When a bullet that should have struck you right between your eyes somehow curves and misses you mid flight, you praise the Lord instead of asking why. When you swear you caught two fish but there are four flopping there on the bank the next time you blink, you only admire the fine meal you have before you. They could have known you were a witch, all of them. Odds are they did. You don’t ask, though. None of us do. 

Goodnight asks. He waits until the battle is over, until it is won, until the only danger comes from him knowing and you not being able to tell how he will react. He times it so you almost think you’ll get away without him putting two and two together, and then he turns to you, muffled by the din of victorious conversation, and asks, “It was you that saved us, wasn’t it?”

You shrug, looking away with a pointed determination. “I’d say that’s a pretty strong compliment. We all helped as much as we could, you know. Saying that I specifically saved you ignores the rest.”

Goody shakes his head. “You know what I’m talking about. Bullets can’t bounce off of thin air. Unless, of course, someone makes them.”

Your fingers are perfectly still on the table in front of you. “I don’t know how that would happen.”

“Neither do I,” Goody says quietly, “And I’ve decided that it’s not important to me that I do know. What’s important to me is that whoever saved us risked their life to do so. Secrets like that can be deadly. If you ever find out who diverted those bullets, I’d like you to thank them for me.”

You risk a glance his way. Goodnight’s looking fondly at his friends gathered on the other side of the table– a round of cards has started up already, even though the only deck they have has been riddled severely by bullet holes– but that smile, that smile is for you. You know it. He does too.

“It might have been me,” you whisper.

He looks over at you at last. “I’m glad it was,” he tells you. “I’m glad it was you.”

magnificent seven tag list: empty for now, feel free to ask to be added!

bonus tag for @starlit-epiphany bc its your man!! and there are other people than us still in this fandom!!

[deanandcaslove]

Destiel canon day

❗️3 years ago…❗️

“I know. I know how you see yourself, Dean. You see yourself the same way our enemies see you. You're destructive, and you're angry, and you're broken. You're "daddy's blunt instrument." And you think that hate and anger, that's... That's what drives you, that's who you are. It's not. And everyone who knows you see it. Everything you have ever done, the good and the bad, you have done for love. You raised your little brother for love. You fought for this whole world for love. That is who you are. You're the most caring man on Earth. You are the most selfless, loving human being I will ever know. (he smiles, crying now) You know, ever since we met, ever since I pulled you out of Hell... Knowing you has changed me. Because you cared, I cared. I cared about you. I cared about Sam, I cared about Jack... I cared about the whole world because of you. You changed me, Dean.” 
Said Castiel…

“Why this sounds like a goodbye?”

Dean asked…he knew what was coming…

“Because it is…”

Castiel just confirmed Dean biggest fear…

And then…Cas said what everyone already knew…

“I LOVE YOU!”

Dean was in chock…he paralyzed, tears rolling on his face, the air getting out of his lungs…Dean was not able to speak…he never loved no one like he loved Cas…he was so afraid to lose Castiel…

Dean thought if he didn’t say it back nothing would happen…and he tried one last time…

“Don’t do this Cas…”

But Cas was sure about what he was doing…he was saving the love of his life…saving the man who taught him about feelings…and Cas didn't need Dean to say he felt the same...Cas knew...Cas saw the whole truth in Dean's teary eyes, and Cas could read his protected mind...and he could know then that Dean loved him...So Cas said his last words…

“Goodbye Dean…”

Its over…Cas is gone! Dean is all alone…Crying…

NO NO NO WHY? WHY HIM? PLEASE GIVE MY ANGEL BACK!

Dean’s mind was screaming…

❗️TODAY❗️

Today all we got are memories…

Dean and Cas deserved better…their love were SO STRONG that even with all those problems…the kept together NO MATTER WHAT!

Cas was always there for Dean…

And was not always there for Cas…

But when Dean was there...he did everything he could to help Cas!

Now 3 years later, we know that Dean and Cas are together in heaven…we can’t forget Sam hahaha…but yeah that’s it guys… On this day but 3 years ago, Destiel turned CANON!

So happy(not so happy)Destiel Canon Day

💚11/05/2020💙

By Bruna L. Pereira

This is a text that i made for DESTIEL CANON DAY! I hope you guys like it, and help me to more people read it💙💚

[captain-mj]

Hey, your wife did a angel/demon thing and it got me thinking. Angel!Price and demon!Graves

However, instead of the usual demon corrupting angel bit, it's the Price putting Graves back in his place under him. Reminding him he will always be beneath the angels, and his rightful place is being fucked by Price

(brat!Graves??)

I love angels and demons and writing a character that believes their superior! 

For a little context since this is the same universe as my wife’s, angels and humans are at war. Demons are mostly picking the angel’s sides, but not everybody.  

~~~~ 

Price dealt with humans constantly. Killing them all without mercy. He wasn’t like his gentler counterparts. He needed to protect them. Keep them safe. 

Over the past couple of years, he felt like he had changed more than the millennias he had lived before. There was constantly something. Some human trying to break in. Some group skulking around. Broken shredded wings cut off comrades and laid out for them to find.

He learned to shove things down. He was a seraphim after all. Had been made to wage war. To burn down cities. 

Just... never expected to be fighting this particular war. He had always thought humans were interesting. Didn’t matter though. All of them were guilty. All of them got smote and God could decide who deserved heaven. 

Price thought they all deserved hell. 

So maybe, just maybe, today he wasn’t feeling like dealing with this. But he was the fucking Captain and he needed to take care of them and that meant dealing with the demon that broke in. 

The... rather attractive demon that broke in. Soft blond hair, bright blue eyes, dark clothes contrasting against pale skin. He was on his knees, cheek cut slightly. The red made a beautiful contrast on his skin. Iron shackles around his wrists kept him kneeling, not letting him raise his hands. He could see the start of welts on his skin but he ignored it. Demons were tough. Since he so confidently broke in, he deal with some pain.  

Price looked down at the demon, wings raising. Another sign he was different? Eyes appeared on his wings when they stretched, all peering down at the demon. He saw it. The flicker of fear starting in the demon’s chest. The way it flowed over his features like honey. 

“You know, I remember the old order. Do you?” He looked down at him. Graves didn’t have wings, clearly made. Freshly made from the looks of it. Probably changed at the beginning of the war. It would explain why he was still loyal to the humans.

“I know you were self righteous bastards. Thought you were better than everyone else.” Graves hissed up at him, mouth full of sharp teeth. 

Price stared down at him, wings shaking slightly. “I am better than you.”

Graves looked taken back as Price stalked closer, grabbing him by his hair. 

“You know what demons did before? Sinned. Tempted. All you had to do. But at the end of the day, everyone knew where you belonged. Underneath beings like me.” He yanked him so he had to look up, Price glaring down at him. “I play along sometimes. Have a couple of demon friends. But I’m rather tired of playing this game.”

“Thought angels were merciful.” Graves got out, looking a lot less sure of himself. 

“You don’t deserve mercy.” Price spat and unzipped his pants. What better way to get rid of some of the frustration he felt than this? 

Graves tried to yank away from him. “What are you doing??” He looked a bit nervous at how big Price’s cock was and the fact that he couldn’t really fight back. He couldn’t even get the hand in his hair to let go. 

Price stuck his finger into Graves’s mouth and forced it open, keeping his thumb between his teeth.

“Careful. You fucking cut me with those and I swear I’ll rip you apart and spread you across the goddamn cosmos.” He shoved his cock down his throat, hand coming to cup around the back of his head to keep control of him. His hair was just as soft as it looked, curling around his fingers. Price relaxed, loosening his grip so Graves would start to pull away before he pushed him back down on his cock. He could feel Graves’s nose against his hips, cock buried all the way down his throat. Graves gagged around him, but he didn’t need to breath so Price kept him there. 

Eventually, Graves relaxed his jaw, opening his mouth more and trying to swallow, eyes glazing over. 

“There you go. Nice and easy, yeah?” He said it like he wasn’t brutally fucking into his throat. His tongue pressed against him and his cheeks hollowed out. Tears started running down his face from the force of it and Price closed his eyes, grunting softly. 

“This is where you belong. On your knees.” Price pulled him by the grip on him just as he thrust in, hearing him make a harsh cry. He could feel him trying to talk, probably to cuss him out or argue. But that’s fine. He’d fuck the lesson into him eventually. 

Graves could stay tied to his bed, ready for him to come in and fuck anytime he wanted. Probably in a collar. He knew where to get ones for demons. Price didn’t plan on letting his toy go anytime soon.

He yanked him off, noticing with amusement that Graves was steadily drooling now.

“Fuck you.” How boring. He sounded hoarse though, clearly struggling.

“You can think of something better than that. Come on.” Price looked down at him, condescending as hell.  

“You’re a bitch.” 

“Well, I suppose I don’t need you to be witty to fuck you.” Price shoved back down his throat, letting go of him. “Come on. Make me feel good, whore.” Graves glared at him, but he notably started to bob his head. The chain connected to his wrists pulled taut as Graves tried to touch himself. 

“If you’re good, I’ll touch you. Now get your hands away from your fucking dick.” Graves slowly set his hands back on the floor, seeming to weigh his options. Price relaxed and let out a soft sigh. “There you go.” Graves’s tongue danced along one of the veins on his cock, those beautiful eyes peering up at him. 

Price felt himself getting close and he pulled him off. He looked at him, wings slowly relaxing.

“Are all angels this perverted? Might need to change my opinion on you guys.” Graves smiled, but it was shaky. Was he afraid?

Price unchained him and shoved him to the floor. He put one of his hands around his throat while the other shredded his clothes, wings hitting him lightly when he struggled. 

Graves grabbed his feathers and yanked, almost managing to pull a few out. Price choked him for his efforts and pinned him down with a knee on his back. He rechained his hands so they were behind his back. The iron started to burn him, making him struggle and fight before he eventually went still, letting out a small whimper.

“There you go. I’ll use rope next time.” 

Graves didn’t really have time to respond, Price immediately pressing two of his fingers into him. Like a lot of demons, Graves ran cold. His eyes turned black instead of the blue and he whined like a whore. 

Price sped up his fingers, twisting them slightly just to pull more noises out of Graves. When Graves seemed to gain some coherence, he shoved another of his fingers in, stretching him more. He purred softly and pulled away from him, leaving him kneeling again with his face on the floor. 

“I think I’ve been very good at tempting you. Is that what you want? Demons to be like this?”

“I’ll get a gag for next time too.”

Graves panted softly. “You planning on doing this again?”

Price didn’t answer. He found the oil he was looking for. He put just a little on Graves’s back to make sure it was demon safe before going back behind him.

Graves tensed, biting his lip, as Price coated his fingers and pushed them back in. He purposely used a bit too much, watching as Graves’s fingers twitch at the sensation. A small amount of it ran down his thighs and trailed his finger up, gathering it all back up before pushing it back inside him. 

Price finally straightened and lined up with him, holding his hips. “Try not to yell if you can help it.” 

“Go fuc-” Graves bit his lip to muffle the sound from Price shoving himself inside him. He whimpered at the stretch, eyes closing. 

Price tangled his hand in his hair and started to fuck into him harshly. Graves’s face twisted with pain before it slowly started to melt into pleasure. He arched his back, letting Price get deeper into him.

“There you go. Isn’t this better? Not having to think, just take my cock.” He patted Graves’s thigh and thrust in a little harder, just to enjoy the harsh sob it got from him. Graves nodded after a second, realizing he hadn’t responded and trying to hide his face from him. 

Price pulled him up by his hair so he was pressed to his chest, pretty much sitting in his lap. He moved to hold him by his throat again as he fucked up into him, wings wrapping around them both, pressing into Graves’s skin. Graves flushed and closed his eyes, arms flexing but unable to break the binds. 

His wings brushed against his cock and Graves flinched before trying to push in to the sensation. He fucked into him harder as he moved his wings closer, letting Graves rut against them. 

Price laughed and Graves only flushed more. “You’re rather pretty. Especially for a demon.”

Graves whimpered and leaned up, trying to connect their lips. 

“Tell me where you belong.” He was being harsh. He knew that. Graves was having trouble forming words as it was.

“Come on.” He put his hand around his cock, not stroking yet. Graves whimpered. “How about this, who do you belong to?”

“You.” Graves choked out. Price kissed him and started to stroke him. Graves came hard, whimpering against his mouth.” Fuck, I belong right here with you.”

Price preened and slammed into him, coming into him. He squeezed his throat hard and kissed him again.

“Yes, you do. Right here with me.”

[yan-lorkai]

Ooooh bouncing off the arranged marriage househusband post, what characters would you say fit that idea best? Just any fandom you write for, to be clear.

Honestly there's tons of character that this idea could suit like Jade, Ruggie, maybe Kalim, Barbatos. But I think this fit Lucifer so much (⁠๑⁠♡⁠⌓⁠♡⁠๑⁠)

Putting all this under the cut bcs I rambled quite a bit hehe, what can I say Luci is living rent free on my head

He's so busy while taking care of his brothers and doing paperwork, bettering Devildom for when you arrive. You see, I like to imagine this desperate young couple who wants to have a baby but can't and so they pray. They pray for any entity for a baby but unlucky for you Lucifer was the one who answered your parents pray before any angel could, he was the one who blessed your birth and watched you grown from far, though this little blessing isn't for free. Your parents would have you till you reach adulthood and then your hand would be given to him on the same day you came of age. Everything had been agreed upon long before you were born, sealed in a contract that could not be broken

He had a plan; Lucifer would charm you till you were a giggling mess, make fall in love with him and told you who he was and what your parents done, for you deserve to hear the truth. But you were curious and intelligent, always was and always will be, you found out about the contract he had with your parents somehow and tried to ran away, tried to pray and call for help, help from his father and his angel brothers and he didn't like it one bit.

But Lucifer understand your fear, your parents failed you and they will be punished accordingly, they could have told you how great and benevolent he was to bestow onto them a life, they could have teach you to love and respect him but instead they made you fear him

To say he's disappointed in you would be an understatement. He let you live a happy life in the human world, let you discover things you liked and see different places but in the end of the day you are his cute little spouse and to run away is just plain stupid, you are his since before you were born and you bare his marking, he always knows where you are and what you're doing.

And when he haves you?

Lucifer is respectful and handles your tempers with extreme calm, demonstrating that he is not dangerous to your safety and that you don't have to be afraid of everything and he knows that with time you will understand all of this. However, he can't stop himself from watching you wander the halls, exploring your new home and your clumsy interactions with his brothers, it's so precious that it makes him let out a long sigh and feel all warm inside, especially during the nights. You're always saying that you don't like it when he touches you or that you're not a big fan of physical contact, but as soon as you fall asleep you look for his touch, your head always fitting perfectly on his chest while Lucifer admires you and thinks like you. was made especially for him to loveThere isn't a single boring day with you around.

Even if you scream and run away again and again, the words that come out of your mouth are nothing more than lies and your actions contradict each other every time. But that's okay, Lucifer can wait a little longer for you to realize how important he is in your life, how only around him do you feel safe, appreciated, heard, loved - the point is is the supposed love inside you real? or fruit of his brand?

You were made for him, that's true. And that's one of the reasons you could never truly run away without feeling so sad without him, without the breakfasts you cooked together, without feeling his hand on yours as he taught you how to play the piano or the simple kisses that he left on your forehead when you woke up and when you went to sleep. For better or worse, Lucifer spoils you a lot, which doesn't mean you're exempt from receiving his punishments if you misbehave or join Belphie and Satan in their prank.

And truly he's generous to only want you as his little spouse. He could do so much worse, could tear limb by limb from your beautiful body, could make you watch him torturing your parents and feast on their flesh and soul. But he won't :)

[nicnacsart]

Hey y'all I was bored on the train and wrote something about the enemies to lovers relationship of two of my ocs

Here you go :)

Through rain and thunder, forget me not

The first time we met was in a storm.

The second I saw her I despised her.

She wasn't human, her eyes black instead of white, she didn't deserve my mercy.

I thought she felt the same way about me.

"she's human, her eyes white instead of black, she doesn't deserve my mercy."

Her face was a mask of innocence, a kind smile and curios eyes covering up the malice underneath.

It was the first time I challenged a god.

Unlike me, she didn't try to kill.

She Saved me from the fall.

Her tight grip on my arm kept me safe.

She cured the cuts on my skin, spending hours talking until I agreed to answer.

At some point I stopped to despise the black in her eyes and started to appreciate the warm grey.

Maybe I was wrong? Maybe not every demon uses a a kind smile to cover up malice. Maybe her kindness was genuine.

The second time we met was in the sky.

The second I saw her I felt sorry.

She still wasn't human, her eyes black instead of white.

Again we were on different sides.

When I fell again, she came to save me.

Huge black wings on her back, she reminded me more of an angel than the demon she was.

As I fell past clouds and birds the irony was funny to me.

It was the second time I challenged a god.

Unlike other demons, she didn't want to kill.

She saved me from the fall, in more than one way.

Her arms wrapping around me and keeping me safe, in more than one way.

At some point I stopped despising her darker blood and started appreciating her soft feathers.

Maybe I was wrong? Maybe a human and a demon can get along.

The third time we met my heart skipped a beat.

The second I saw her I smiled.

For a minute I forgot she wasn't human, the warm grey in her eyes winning my heart. She deserved my love.

We talked for hours, time just a concept which didn't affect us.

She told me about the rain, I told her about the thunder, we talked about the storm.

This time I didn't challenge a god. Therefore I didn't loose.

Forget me not was blooming on the balcony, shining in the moonlight when she kissed me, causing me to fall, but still keeping me safe.

The third time I challenged a god, it wasn't her.

The second I saw him I knew it would be over soon.

Unlike her, her brother tried to kill me.

The first time we met, was the night she kissed me.

He didn't hate me then.

He did now.

For some time I almost forgot to despise the black in a demons eyes.

He reminded me of it again as my blood dripped from his skin.

At some point the sun vanished, my flame shrinking to a spark.

It's over. The storm caught up to me.

I shouldn't have woken up again.

But I did anyway.

The first thing I noticed were her arms around me, the second thing her sweet scent.

The third thing was that I could notice these things.

It shouldn't be this way.

I shouldn't be alive.

What? Why? How?

When I saw my reflection in a broken mirror I knew.

There was the black I learned to fear, to hate, to forget, to fear again.

The last time we met my heart hurt.

The second I saw her, her smile brought tears to my eyes.

She wasn't human, neither was I.

There was no God left to challenge, the rain was over, the thunder gone and the storm just another section in the history books.

There was forget me not blooming around us, just like the first time we kissed.

I will never be able to see the small blue flowers without thinking of her.

She held my hands tight, trying to keep me safe but we both knew she'd slip away.

The last time I saw her, she was taken from me.

How did the bleeding wound from the first time I met her turn into a bleeding heart after she left?

We fought through pouring rain, rumbling thunder and destructive storms, just to separate in a field of flowers.

Flowers I'll never be able to see normal again.

"through rain and thunder" I said

"forget me not" she whispered before she slipped away into a sleep that would last for hundreds of years.

Asleep between the flowers I'll never be able to forget.

[brydde]

SIX SONGS THAT REPRESENT YOUR MUSE.

exhale inhale, aurora i was a moving thing before i was a human being / i was the ice before it melts / i was the tree before it fell / my dear, come near / do you understand what is happening? / crawl beneath the earth / to feel the hunger and the thirst / if you could fly and be the bird / then you would see the forest burn

sway, jadu heart why did you make me? / why did you make this? / what you say when you tell me about it / what you mean when you tell me i'm fine as i am? / an imperfect man / i'm the fortress in your mind / i'm the feelings left behind / i'm the saviour, i'm the pill / i'm the deer, i'm the kill / i'm the fear, i'm the guilt / ever leaving, never leaving

blinding, florence and the machine seems that i have been held in some dreaming state / a tourist in the waking world, never quite awake / no kiss, no gentle word could wake me from this slumber / until i realize that it was you who held me under

i'm your man, mitski you're an angel, i'm a dog / or you're a dog and i'm your man / you believe me like a god / i'll destroy you like i am / i'm sorry i'm the one you love / no one will ever love me like you again / so when you leave me, i should die / i deserve it, don't i? / you believe me like a god / i'll betray you like a man

it's all so incredibly loud, glass animals super silence in the quiet, eye inside the storm / water from your broken iris fell toward the floor / everything waiting, shakin' as it drops / i tried for you and i, for too hard, for too long / gave it all and everything for more time, but i lost / oh, we're breakin' down / whispers would deafen me now / you don't make a sound / heartbreak was never so loud

mountain side, wezn higher and higher the flames burn, keep on burning / fire to fire the world turns, keep on turning / if we could rise up on mother earth, we'd start learning / fly, fly, fly, fly, fly, fly / i just want to fly high above the ocean / free myself of time / i'm the only motion / so lonely, forgotten / i fall to the sun

SIX QUOTES THAT INSPIRE YOU TO WRITE YOUR MUSE.

"You are made of dreams and this world is not for you."

"If you dream a fiction and wake with that fiction in your hands, it becomes fact. Do you understand? For you, reality is not an external condition. For you, reality is a decision."

"Does any part of you still look at the sky and hurt?"

"One day he'll wake and all he has made to flourish will wither. He will coil round himself, a snake devouring his children, then slither away with us all in his belly. And we shall go away with him knowing what a good dream it was."

"I'm more than just a copy of you."

"We have forgotten how to be good guests, how to walk lightly on the earth as its other creatures do."

[cherie-zip]

The Fallen Angel and the Black Swan

On that day, the black swan erased my wounds, embracing my flaws with tender grace.

"Do you think I deserve all of this?"

This question often slips past my lips, resonating with the night breeze as the window stands wide open. The moon looks stunning tonight, and the stars are dancing across the sky. The man behind me tightens his hug around my waist.

It was an uncountable number of times that I had asked him that kind of question. He never complained about it, and I knew beyond any doubt that he would always be sincere about his response. Instead of immediately answering my question, he chose to place a kiss where my wings were supposed to be.

"Define 'these,' little angel," he said, as his fingers made circular motions around my bare stomach. I secretly smiled, feeling his breath brush against my skin. "If you were asking about your unfortunate events, then you absolutely never deserved anything like that. But if you were asking about us, then you deserve it. You deserve to be loved like this."

I chuckled as I rubbed his arms that wrapped around my waist, trying to guess what kind of expression he made behind me. "I love being loved like this," I said with a smile.

The breeze seemed to get a little wild, becoming slightly harsher and sending shivers down my spine. I curled up, snuggling closer into his embrace. He whispered sweet chants into my ears, like the most peaceful lullaby, while I couldn't take my eyes off the moon.

It was a long story, and I lacked the energy to recount every little detail of how I encountered this man. He wasn't the cause of my broken wings or the curse that confined me to this human world, but he became the reason I could endure the pain of living without my wings.

He was the one who discovered me, discarded from heaven, by the edge of a lake. My vision was blurry at the time, clouded with tears as my wings lay broken, their white feathers strewn about.

He didn't display any surprise at witnessing an angel in such a wretched state, as if it were the hundredth time he had encountered something like this. In that moment, I questioned my sanity, for as he approached, I saw a black swan walking towards me.

Silently, he removed his warm, padded coat and draped it around me, concealing the wound on my back. Even without words, I knew my back was bleeding. His eyes betrayed a mixture of concern and fear, yet in my mind, I continued to envision the gentle touch of a black swan upon my imperfections.

Ever since that moment, he never left my side, not even for a second, except when I had to attend to other wounded angels. At first, I believed he was a devil, the reason for my cursed state, as if the gods and goddesses knew I would fall in love with a devil. Thankfully, he proved me wrong.

He is undoubtedly a human, but in my eyes, he personifies the essence of a black swan. When I was in heaven, another angel once spoke to me about black swans. They said that encountering a black swan could signify something surprising and impactful, though they never specified the nature of that impact. I choose to believe it was something good and extraordinary, given how he cherishes me above all else in this world.

"Angel. Little angel? Hey, my angel. Are you okay?" he called out, his voice filled with concern.

I blinked several times, finally realizing that I had been lost in my thoughts and hadn't heard him calling my name countless times. I turned slowly, curling up in his embrace, allowing our bare skin to touch. He placed a gentle kiss on my forehead, his hands occupied with tenderly caressing my back, providing soothing rubs.

"What makes you never hate my flaws and curse?" I asked, my voice barely audible, but he undoubtedly heard every word. "I was banished from heaven, and now you're probably embracing a demon."

He chuckled softly, his fingers gently stroking my hair. "The things you perceive as flaws and curses are already a part of who you are. I love you exactly as you are, every inch of you. If heaven cast you out from being an angel, then you shall be my angel."

I was on the verge of tears when he whispered in my ear, warning me not to cry or he would playfully bite my nose. His words instantly made me burst into laughter, and a sense of joy filled my heart. Yet, unintentionally, tears still welled up in my eyes. I had forgotten that the habit of shedding tears remained with me, a remnant of my angelic nature, whenever something touched my heart.

In his presence, I came to realize that a guardian angel could take the form of any creature. Being a guardian angel wasn't solely determined by the designations given by gods and goddesses; it was about one's willingness to protect anything that fell within their sight. It dawned on me that an angel could have their own guardian angel too. He was my guardian angel.

Whenever he planted kisses on my skin, I felt as if the pain that had once pierced me from behind, where my wings should have been, completely vanished.

Perhaps my favorite Goddess had sent a black swan, embodying a marvelous transformation, to me in the guise of a human. He is perpetually genuine and untainted, yet possesses a strength that could lead him into battle at the slightest hint of a threat near me.

"Call me again, please?" I softly pleaded.

It struck me as amusing to witness an angel begging a human, all the while being held in his embrace. It felt slightly embarrassing, given that as an angel, it should be my role to protect humans in this world. Yet, here he was, protecting me even from the faintest trace of dust carried by the night breeze into our room.

"Little angel. My angel," he whispered, his voice filled with tenderness.

Once again, beneath the moonlit sky and amidst the freezing night breeze, our lips met in a passionate embrace. The red string of fate that bound us intertwined, compelling me to draw closer, surrendering myself to his complete control over my body and soul.

On this night, both the fallen angel and the black swan succumbed to desire, as love consumed their very souls.

[huenjin]

the devil’s tango.

summary — and when your demon boyfriend's best friends ruin your valentine's day plans with said demon boyfriend by lighting up a restaurant in flames, they make sure to apologise well. or, in which jisung, changbin and chan show you all the ways a devil can fuck a woman.

pairing — 3racha x reader

genre — smut | demons!au

ratings — 18+

word count — 14.4k words

warnings — mentions of flame, indications of objectification, mentions of themes of afterlife, heaven and hell | smut specifications under the cut

note — the way this was written only thanks to @chaangbin​ and her sprinto discord thing pwp and is totally inspired from this one nsfw asmr i chanced upon on reddit. happy reading and sinning, babes.

smut warnings —

i. groping, dirty talk, objectification, car sex, marking, slight temperature play, thigh riding, dirty talk, slight blood play (jisung gets a slight rush !!), grinding, fingering, sir kink, nipple play, clitoral stimulation, vaginal stimulation, ruined orgasm;

ii. changbin calls you baby girl (!!), choking, cunnilingus, dirty talk, dumbification (changbin talks a loooot dirty, heads up !!) nipple play, breast play, pain kink, spitting, marking, so so so much marking omfg, intercrural sex, clitoral stimulation, unprotected sex (better safe than anything else irl okay?), squirting, overstimulation, reader slips into subspace, changbin's kinda hard on the reader; chan bring you back from subspace because he's protective like that !!!

iii. tattooed!chan — chan has this huge dark feathered wing tattoo in his back omf and the reader has a tattoo kink, of sorts— dick piercing!chan, tongue piercing!chan, so !! much !! making !! out !!, calls you princess throughout the story because you are one, nipple play, breast play, daddy kink, grinding, spanking, pain kink, degradation (but chan like gives reader heads up in such a nice way because chan best boy !!), teasing cause chan won't give it to you just like that !!!, so much begging, pussy slapping, clitoral stimulation, cunnilingus, fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, squirting, penetration, unprotected sex (wrap it before you snap it!), bulge kink, creampie, slight after care.

Chan thinks Valentine's Day is a marketing scheme by the very commercial, capitalistic world. 

Not that his devilish self cared when he could have all the luxuries in the world in his hand by the very thought of it. Chan doesn't care even more because you, his girlfriend, loved Valentine's Day more than anything in this world, second only to your love for him. If anything, you loved Valentine's Day this much because of him.

And that is exactly why he is driving down the neat lane to this newly opened restaurant, right across the town, that you have been hyping up for months now. His fingers wrap around the steering wheel, shoes pressed flat against the gas as his other hand lies gently on your exposed thigh, thanks to your little black skirt riding up to his delight.

"Thank you for doing this," you mumble, your right hand shifting to place itself on top of his hand and grip at it softly. "You know, even after you hate all the couples out there, ever to exist."

Chan laughs, a hearty one in fact. His thumb rubs against the palmar side of your hand — one of the many affectionate things your devil does for you, albeit all the times he reminds you he is second to Lucifer himself.

"I don't hate them all." Lie. Chan knows that's an obvious lie and so do you. You click your tongue and your boyfriend bites his lower lip in a sheepish action, momentarily glancing at you before bringing his attention back on the road. "I like us. We make such a power couple. If anything, we should be the only couple to exist. Valentine's Day should exist for only one couple and that should be us."

Raising your eyebrows before letting it fall, face softening up instantly as you gaze at your boyfriend's side profile, you coo, "Aw. I see finally that there are things the devil too doesn't get at his will."

"You were one amongst them," Chan sniggers, his hand slowly trailing upwards as they shift from underneath your hand's grip. "But look where we are now."

Your breath hitches as his fingers slightly trace parallel lines as they move upwards and your eyelids flutter a bit. The pads of his fingers are hot against the coldness of your skin and the temperature difference is great enough to raise goosebumps on them.

"Chan." It's a whisper. Almost as if a great amount of determination is required for you to make this decision to turn him down. "You are driving. Plus, let's not ruin the night already. You've booked us a nice table in this amazing restaurant on this beautiful night."

"But I could make it even better." Chan licks his lower lip as he presses on the brakes, the heavy traffic stopping him from proceeding further. His hand is now completely underneath your skirt, short enough to his pleasure, fingers edging so close to your panties that your head involuntarily shifts back and your lips part.

You have been dating him for months now and every single time he touches you, you feel like a starved woman craving for every drop of his affection, desiring every part of him. Chan has been more than willing to comply, however. Your body reacts to his touches and his kisses like you are on heat and every time your boyfriend points it out, you blame it on his extraterrestrial, hellish skills; that he had you in his control.

Little do you know that it is the other way round. That Chan chooses to stay in the mortal world for you, to be with you. That he knows he will have to part with you one day when you shift over to the other side and maybe you could have sinned enough to be with him in the other world too. However, Chan knows how much God loves playing his cards and for that, he'll seize every single moment he gets with you.

All because he loves you. He is in love with you. 

Chan realises this a few weeks back. Of course, he feels the weird thing humans call butterflies when you are so understanding of him being hell's very spawn. However, it is when you cook dinner for him as you wait for him to come, or how you ask him about his day and listen ardently that he realises: hell could never be worthy enough to have someone as beautiful as you. He shouldn't deserve you — fuck, the very act of him laying his filthy eyes on you should have sent your guardian angel into a frenzy but you chose him. You chose to be with him and for that, he'd mayhaps, thank that lousy old God up in the heavens. 

"Dinner first," you strictly say. You remove his hand from underneath your skirt, wrapping your hand around his as you hold it up to kiss his knuckles. "When we get back home, I promise. In fact, I'll be the one to jump at you as soon as we reach the doorsteps." Chan laughs, mumbling, "Ah, my baby girl, my princess," under his breath and turns to look at the signal that has changed to green. He presses on the gas, speeding to reach the place on time as per reservations. 

Having Chan's hand in yours roots you in confidence from your biggest fear deep down — that he would fade away from your life one day and worse, he'd take away the memories with him to rid you of the pain from his absence. His calloused hand grips onto yours and you hold it close to your chest, shutting your eyes for a minute because this is what Valentine's Day is all about for you. Bang Chan and everything your devil of a boyfriend is. He has shown you both heaven and hell and even though you did not believe in the afterlife, you do not mind going to hell, especially not if he is there with you. 

"Why is there smoke up in the air?" Chan asks himself in absolute confusion as he takes the right on the road to the restaurant. Upon finding a neat parking spot about a hundred meters away from the restaurant, he gets out of the car, rushing to your side to open the door for you like a true gentleman. 

"Why, thank you!" You giggle, hand slapping right across your lips at the unpleasant sound that leaves your mouth and Chan smiles so widely at you, almost as if he is looking at his whole world right before him. You get out of the car and Chan closes the door right behind you.

"You look so damn pretty today, baby," Chan hugs you by the waist temporarily and snuggles into your neck, only to leave a quick kiss against it. You push him slightly and Chan chuckles, raising his right hand, that is not held by you, to protest. "I'm not making a move. We did get dressed well so let's have a nice romantic dinner first and when we get back home—" His voice drops a note lower. "We'll have a hot night and let this Valentine's Day wrap up rightfully as it should."

"And what's the right way, Mr. Hotshot Devil?"

"With my dick wrapped around your sweet little pussy," he smiles, lips extending so wide across his face that your cheeks heat up. He leans closer, pressing his lips against the pinna of your ears as he whispers, "You'll be begging me over and over and I'll treat you like the good little girl you are for me."

Your breath hitches and a flustered broken gasp leaves your lips as your fingers dig into his forearm. Chan's harmonious laughter over having made you a flustered mess rings in your ear till it is cut off by loud screams and foggy vision thanks to dark grey smoke. 

"That's a lot of smoke," you comment worried as your boyfriend takes you by his hand and walks you down the road to the restaurant. He takes small strides to let you walk at ease. "I wonder if something is on— Fuck. The restaurant is in flames. It's on fire. Fuck."

Chan's eyes widen and he stares at the fire long enough to see two figures making their way towards you. Two very familiar faces too hard for him to ever forget, especially because Chan has spent more than a millennium with them. 

"Jisung? Changbin?"

"Do you know them, baby?" You whisper into his ears, hiding slightly behind him as you cower at the magnanimous presence of the two individuals before you. 

"Sometimes I wish I didn't," he rolls his eyes and folds his arms as he looks at the two younger demons in a gaze filled with doubt and suspicion. 

"You lie!" The taller of the two says. "We had ramen together and you know ramen is exactly the way for people to bond."

"That's Jisung," Chan introduces as he slightly brings you forward. Your fingers play with the end of your short skirt, trying to bring it further down as the two men — demons, you presumed — looked at you and almost seemed to be studying you. "And the one by his side is Changbin."

"We've been friends for a while," Jisung informs and judges at Changbin who still continues to stare at you in displeasure. Did one of Chan's friends already not like you? You guess it is normal but deep down you know it hurts. You have always had the innate tendency to make sure that everyone liked you and the very thought of Chan's friends disliking you puts you to this sorrow as much as you hate to agree to it. 

"Stop scaring my girlfriend, Bin," Chan glares back at the shorter of the two before drifting his attention to Jisung and enquiring, "How did this even happen?"

"That's on me. I crashed my car into the restaurant," Jisung rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. Your eyes widen and you look further beyond the two men to see a beautiful red Maserati driven into the restaurant, caught in flames just as the whole building is. 

"The people!" You scream, rushing forward. Chan holds your wrist in worry, holding you back, and you look at your boyfriend with eyebrows furrowed in concern. "They are my people."

Changbin scoffs, mumbling under his breath, "Stupid humans and their weird sense of morality at all the wrong times." Your heart drops at his words and Chan lets go of your hand, only to take a step forward in Changbin's direction, eyes narrowing at the demon. 

Jisung laughs hesitantly, slipping right between the two males and pushing them away. He looks at you and rushes forward to lean close to you. You are taken aback by the sudden invasion of your personal space but something in his eyes holds you fixed, enamored by his whole being. 

"There are no casualties, sweetheart. Don't worry!" 

Jisung leans back soon after, standing firm on his toes, and turns to look at your boyfriend. Smiling as wide as you've seen any devil smile, he prompts, "Since all our Valentine's Day plans got ruined, what if we spent it together?" He glances at you and you look away, eyes catching Changbin's who still looks at you in suspicion. 

"I—" 

"Jisung," Chan warns.

Jisung rushes to Changbin's side. Directing his attention towards you all while nudging the hell out of Changbin's side, he wiggles his eyebrows, "He may seem rude like this but trust me, he's the tsundere kind of lover."

"What the fuck," Changbin mumbles and turns his head away. "I'm not saying anything."

Your boyfriend is very flustered at the very happenings around him. Jisung suggesting a possibility of a wild night, the restaurant going into flames, and his girlfriend, albeit looking scared, positively looking at this whole proposal — maybe it has been too long since he has been away from hell for the mere chaos to fluster him.

Without a word said further to his friends, he pulls you away. You bite your lower lip, nibbling and pulling at the dead skin. Chan quickly takes your hand in his, eyes fixing on yours and staying in silence for a short while till he finally asks, "Are you okay?"

"Can I be honest?"

"Yes, please."

"Are all your friends this hot and a solid mess?"

"Should I be offended?" A soft chuckle leaves his lips when he sees you joke nervously. 

"No, no." You hit his arms, jokingly. You draw circles onto his arm and bring the topic forward finally. "I know I might have looked like I was taken aback — I was — but remember how we had this talk once about bringing people into our sex lives," you gulp, "I think this is a great moment to see if we'd like it in our relationship."

"Are you sure?" Chan's hand frames your face and you lean into it. 

"One hundred percent."

"These are demons, baby," he hesitates. 

"And you're a demon too. Stop stating the obvious, Chan. Plus, I have you."

"Are the two of you done?" Jisung asks loudly. You hold Chan's wrist and drag him towards his friends. Changbin raises an eyebrow at the sudden beam of confidence that radiates from you. 

"We are. I'm Y/N," you finally introduce yourself. "Sorry for being awkward in the beginning—"

"Oh, don't be," Changbin mumbles, gaze still wary of you. "Jisung tends to have that effect on people."

"Hey!"

"Anyhow," Changbin finally smiles tonight. "Thanks to someone," He glares at Jisung, "We lost both our dinner and our car. So do you mind if we travel with you?"

"Oh, no," you clasp your hands together. "We'll give you a ride back to our place. Chan could cook us something," you smile at your boyfriend and he merely shrugs.

"And we can let the night roll into whatever it is, right?" Jisung's gaze is different, almost like he's insinuating a thousand different sex positions in one look. 

"Yes," you say after a long pause and an audible gulp. "We can let the night roll into whatever setting it turns to."

"Lead the way, princess," Jisung's arms move in abduction and you smile, skin wrinkling by your eyes at his chirpy self. You walk forward to the car and Chan slows down his strides to walk with the boys. 

His arms wrap around the shoulders of both the demons and he pulls them closer to sharply whisper. "You fucking hurt her and I'll have both your arses burning in the hottest flames in hell. I swear to Lucifer."

"What if she likes it?" Changbin raises an eyebrow, almost provoking Chan and your boyfriend glares back at him equally, gritting his teeth and almost growling. 

With clenched teeth, he restates, "Keep it tame," and lets go of them.

Chan should know better. Nothing is tame for the men in hell.

Changbin calls shotgun, putting you next to Jisung in the back seat while Chan drives the car.

"This is consensual, right?" Jisung asks again. There is concern lacing his face and Changbin sighs, mumbling, "She has said she wants us more than ten times, Sungie."

"Chan, you're alright with me fucking your girlfriend in the back while you drive?"

Chan's breath hitches, coughs entailing and you smile at how lost he looks for a minute as he turns back in worry, slowing the car down. "In the back or in the back of the car?"

"You never know. Maybe she might like it."

"Don't you dare!"

"Fine," he begrudgingly agrees. 

"As long as she's okay with it. Do not make her uncomfortable at all, guys," Chan sighs and turns back, pressing on the gas and almost taking all his thoughts out on it. You blush, cheeks staining a shade lighter and heat rising up as soon as you feel Jisung edge closer to you. In the front seats, Changbin talks to Chan, catching up on every single thing they have missed out in these years.

In the back seat, however, Jisung has different plans. A whole different plan to break you down into putty in his hands. 

"So, it seems like you are the girl that Chan wouldn't stop talking about and fawning over," Jisung's voice is huskier in the low tone he chooses to speak in to keep the conversation just between the two of you. "Nice to meet you, lovely. I'm Jisung. Now that I see you, I realise what all the fuss is about. You really are breathtaking."

You giggle, "You flatter me. Do all demons sweet talk this well?"

"Only the finest," Jisung winks. His hand wraps around your forearm and he slowly asks again, "It is alright for me to fuck you, right?"

The crudeness of the word in front of not just you but also two other demons leaves you flustered. Jisung pushes your hair strands that have gotten loose and fall to cover your eyes, behind your ears. 

"Yes, it is," you repeat for what you have counted in your head as the eleventh time. "It's totally alright, Jisung."

"Then, can I come closer?" You nod and Jisung edges forward, closer than he already is. "You know how us demons work, right?"

"Uh," you look down at your hands on your skirt. "You get wild every now and then." Jisung hums in approval, cupping your face with his left hand.

"Bingo, you're right!" Jisung grips your face a little stronger than a second before. "We, demons, love to go wild." He scoffs and continues, "Your boyfriend loves to play nice and pretend like he doesn't lose control and has only virtuous thoughts. All a big fucking facade to hide the fact that he just wants to bend you over and fuck you—" Jisung kisses your neck right underneath your face. "—Again and," he kisses your jugular. "Again and again." 

"I however am not. I like to do a lot of things to you."

Jisung bites sharply into your neck, sucking at the skin. The lewd noises resonate in the locked car and you know your boyfriend can hear each moan and each sound that comes from the back seat. The car moves only faster and Jisung's action matches the pace. He lets go of your neck only to crash his lips against yours, sucking in your lower lip as he kisses your hard. His arms snake around your frame and push you against him. 

You moan against his lips. It's volatile, you realise. Jisung's kisses are volatile. One minute they are harsh against your lips, strong enough to bruise them with cuts, and the very next minute, there is nothing softer than his lips or the goosebumps that trail your skin that he touched after untucking your shirt.

His skin is hot against yours, hot enough to raise goosebumps again on your skin. His lips are warmth personified and his grip makes you want to go unhinged 

He pulls back, lips parting and looking sinfully delectable. "It's in moments like these, princess, I realise how different our body temperatures are. How much warmer demons always are compared to humans. It must feel nice to have warm hands over you, doesn't it?" Jisung removes his hand from your bare skin and from underneath your white shirt. You gasp at the lack of contact, your skin feeling irritably cold all over again, and move closer into him.

"What a needy human," Jisung chuckles, and in the very blink of your eyes, he unbuttons your first two ones, exposing your black bra, laced to perfection, to him. "That's a pretty one. You really did go all out for Chan, did you not, princess?"

"I did. I wanted him to fuck me stupid and make me his tonight," you agree boldly and the car jolts to a stop suddenly. You are pushed forward into Jisung's warmth, your half-naked self pressed against Jisung's nice shirt. Changbin chuckles, looking at Chan and you turn to the side to see the traffic. You whisper again, "I still want him to fuck me stupid tonight."

"Oh, you are going to be all of ours tonight. We are going to make you such a slut for demon cock, princess. Make you greedy and desperate for it."

You are in the public. You are on the road, visible for any child or adult to look into your car only to see all the lustful deeds out in the open. You should have felt embarrassed, quivering in nothing but shame. However, all these triggers are for you to get wetter, panties sticking to your core and your grip to tighten on Jisung's arms. 

Jisung's hand moves back to unhook your bra. He lets it fall off your shoulders slightly before taking your left breast in his arms and bringing his face closer to it. He sucks on your left nipple, nipping on the areola around. His hand massages the right breast over the black lace bra and your head lolls forward. Your hand tightens around his shoulder and you desperately crave some friction in your nether regions. 

"Can I sit on your thigh, please?" You beg and Jisung's mouth leaves your nipple only to look up at you. 

"Only if you call me sir."

Jisung has an immaculate grip on your waist as he lifts you slightly, holding you mid-air and not letting you settle down on his thigh until you call him by what he desires to be called.

"Please let me sit on your thigh, sir."

"You're a good girl," and Jisung drops you down on his thigh. You blush at how Jisung calls you a good girl. You like being called names. Be it a good girl or a slut, the words coming out from them right during sex made you feel unique and special. Your skirt rides up and your wet panties are pressed flat against his nice formal pants. He kisses your lips again, this time biting into your lower lip and drawing a bit of the blood. The copper taste does nothing for the demon exactly, besides indulging him in a slight high he could almost get off on. You seethe against him and your hips grind down on his thigh almost unknowingly. Your lips part behind your panties, the two materials underneath and his flexed thigh providing you enough to ease the lust and thirst of wanting to feel more. 

"Does this feel good?" You moan in response and Jisung's eyes sparkle. "Ah, look at the expressions you are making." His hands grip tightly on your hips as he resolves to go back to your breasts and suck on them till the nipples harden for him and the areola swells up. His hands help your hips to move against his thigh quickly, soaking his navy blue pants darker. Your covered clit rubs over and over against his flexed thighs and the moans that leave your lips are loud and unhinged.

"Sir, ah, ah—" Your hands drop to hover your palm over his covered cock that rubs against your outer thigh. "I want more, sir. Fuck, fuck, I want more. Please, sir." And just as you begged, Jisung bites slightly into your breast just when he lets go of your hips and plunges two fingers into your wet lips, pushing the panties and skirt aside slightly. With your pussy filled with his fingers, Jisung continues to suck on your breasts and little kisses and hickeys all over them. 

Your moan is the loudest so far this night in that minute. His fingers are long and bony and they hit your walls and push against them exactly the way you like. Your pain and pleasure senses, both activated, seemed to be mixing signals leaving you with a slow, slow path to euphoria. "You like that, princess? Tell me."

"Your fingers feel so good, sir." You move against his thighs quickly, grinding on it rough as your pussy is stuffed with his fingers. "Sir, sir— Fuck, sir. There." Jisung curves his fingers, the joints by his finger rubbing against your spot, deep inside that has your thighs shivering and your whole body aching for more. He rubs against the spot till you gasp over and over again and he's laughing like the very devil he is.

"Oh my god, you're so wet for me, princess. You are dripping." Jisung quickly stills you on his thighs, his other hand digging into your hips. "I'm going to go a little—" He pulls out slightly before thrusting his fingers back in. 

"Sir, oh my god," your voice pitches higher and Jisung takes the positive signs well. He pushes his fingers back in after pulling them out. His forefinger moves away from the middle all while they are deep inside of you, stretching your walls apart and the sensation rules you up further as you move down, pulling him deeper and making you feel fuller than a second before. His fingers scissors inside of you, enhancing the sensations against your soft wet walls 

"You're so needy, princess. You like that, huh? Does it feel nice to have my fingers wide apart inside of you? Do you like it when I curl them up?" And Jisung curls them, eliciting a loud groan from you and your head dropping into his shoulder as you can feel yourself edge closer. 

He thrusts them faster. The lewd noises from your arousal gushing out and being pushed back in thanks to his fingers is intensified in the small space and your moans are like spice. Jisung sucks on your neck as his fingers hit your spot over and over again till the knot tightens so much that tears well up in your eyes and you pray he pushes you over the boundary. 

"You like my fingers thrusting fast, princess?" You nod and Jisung orders, "Words, princess."

"Yes, sir. I love it. I love it. I love— Ah! Ungh—" 

His thumb brushes finally against your clit and you bite into his shoulder. "Such a good princess. You deserve to cum, don't you? You were such a good girl." Jisung's thumb presses into your clit. His thrusts stills for a short second and your impatient self slides yourself up to fuck his fingers. The obscene sounds get louder with every second as you move closer to your orgasm. 

"I think I should introduce another finger. Princess got my two fingers sopping wet." Jisung's third finger now plunges into you, pushing you apart even further and your breath hitches. He thrusts at a great speed, "We'll be faster, a little bit faster. That will be alright, right?" You know you are close, just a little bit of clitoral stimulation and Jisung's three bony fingers thrusting up into you, hitting the spots—

The electric motor revs and the garage door opens. Chan slowly moves the car into the garage, darkness seeping into the car. Jisung thrusts sloppily, once and then twice before pulling them away from your core, leaving your walls to clench on nothing desperately. You cry, "No, no, no, no—" 

His voice is husky as he says, "Looks like we are here, princess. We are home." Slowly, without breaking contact with your eyes, Jisung sucks on his forefinger and then the middle finger and then the third slowly, tongue wrapping across it, dancing almost like a whole orchestra was playing in the background. 

Chan rushes to open your door. He sees your haphazard hair, unbuttoned shirt and exposed breasts and he groans. You are insatiable just as he has always known. Your eyes are lost and mind far away at dreams of achieving orgasm. Chan buttons up your shirt and helps you get out of the car. His hold on your frame is tight and he kisses the side of  your forehead.

"Chan's making pasta," Changbin announces and walls towards you, raising an eyebrow at your sight. 

"We already have a whole meal here." Jisung licks your arousal from his lower lips. Chan rolls his eyes, before calling out loudly, "Jisung!"

"Yes?"

"You're helping me with dinner."

"But why me? I want to fuck Y/N," he whines. "All I did was tease her in the back of the car." 

Chan leans into you and whispers, "Feel free to hit him when you want to. You'll have me to reason out and save you from anything." You laugh lightly, head slowly focusing on your boyfriend. He shifts his attention back to Jisung, "Because I said so and it's the least of hospitality you must show."

Jisung groans, before reluctantly agreeing, "I have a huge appetite, so heads up." You stare at Jisung, head with thoughts far in the past than in the present. 

Fuck appetite. Fuck Han Jisung. Figuratively, and if fortunate, quite literally. You have a ruined orgasm for the first time that night and all you have an appetite for is one — to be humble — mind-blowing orgasm to take you to the end of the world and back.

Your boyfriend is a gentleman.

In the years you have known Chan, you know for sure that heaven and hell is nothing but a lie. Ironically. The stigmatization of having to be only bad or only good is so skin deep in humans that the very thought of a devil being nice seems like an illusion. That is, if the whole concept of heaven and hell is not an illusion already.

Chan is nice. He is nice to you and that is all that matters to you. He treats you like a princess because you are his princess — the only person worth staying on earth for. 

So when he lets the guys go ahead and pulls you behind a wall right before the huge living room of his apartment is in view, you know he has something to say. That, or he has a kiss to steal.

"Are you okay?" 

Chan's eyebrows are furrowed, eyes softening in worry as his hands lift up to cup your face, thumb rubbing circles into your cheek. You break a smile, leaning forward to brush the tip of your nose against his and you place a delicate peck on the same spot. 

"More than ever. I told you, baby, right? That I'll tap out the minute this gets too much for me."

"I'm just so worried. You've never—"

"Are you guys making out?" You hear Jisung's voice resonate against the walls and you turn your head, stifling the laughter that bubbles inside of you. Jisung yells again, "Chan, pasta!"

"I'm coming," he yells back, dropping his hand from your face. "I'm coming. Oh, if only Lucifer burnt you alive!" 

"I'd have to be alive for that, ha!"

"Go," you chuckle, kissing his lips only to pull back in a short second. "I'll hang out with Changbin."

"He's. . ." Chan sighs. "Just remember to be comfortable, baby, okay?"

"I know. I trust them. Beyond everything, I trust you."

You hold Chan's hand in yours and pull him away from the shadows of the wall, bring him before his friends. Changbin raises an eyebrow at the two of you, before taking a step forward as Chan follows Jisung to the kitchen.

"That leaves us together alone for a while," Changbin suggests, arms folded over each other as he takes quicker steps towards you. He doesn't tower over you much but his entire persona that he broods is enough to make you whimper, lips to part unknowingly and eyes to widen in want. "I should probably introduce myself properly. I'm Changbin. I've known your boyfriend since forever. We became demons around the same time."

"Oh," you respond, mouth patching up with the excessive want.

"I'd like to get to know you, sweetheart?" Changbin is close enough for you to feel the warmth that exudes from his body. His arms drop for a small second before his right one lifts up. His thumb and forefinger grips on your chin to angle it up slightly for you to look at him properly. The name he calls you by makes you gasp under your breath, loving the endearment and he notices. Changbin notices how much the term has its effect on you in this minute.

"Do you like being called a sweetheart, princess? An angel, maybe? Do you like dressing up in pretty pink lingerie for Chan? Maybe you want to be a baby doll on top of me for the night?" Changbin lets go of your chin before taking a step back and walking towards Chan's sofa. He sits down on it, thighs spread apart as his arm rests on the side. His attention drifts back to you, lips quirking up in brief excitement. "Or despite dating one of the most sinful creatures ever to exist, you like being called a good girl?"

Your thighs clench together and you grip at the end of your skirt. Changbin laughs at the reaction he draws out from you. He taps on his thighs and beckons for you, "Why don't you come be a good girl on my lap, hm?"

You take shy steps towards him, before sitting on his thighs that he now has pressed together. Either of your legs dangle on the sides of his body and Changbin holds your hips as he pulls you closer. Your skirt crumpled up, exposing so much more to him and Changbin is in delight at how pretty you look on top of him.

"May I?" And you nod, mumbling a soft yes. His hand slowly trails above, starting from the point right above your knee joint. It's slow and sensuous for a soft second as his fingers slowly climb up your thigh before the tables turn over and Changbin's hand rips the panties from underneath your skirt and throws it to the side. Your eyes widen, cheeks heating up as you hold onto his shoulder at the sudden force. 

"We won't be needing that for the night now, do we?"

You bite your lip and Changbin's hand hovers over your sodden lips from the previous encounter with Jisung. He rubs his palm over it as he locks his gaze with yours and asks, "Respond, princess. I need to hear you respond."

"No, we won't need that."

"That's my good girl," Changbin praises you and presses the heel of his palm into your clitoral region and you moan explicitly and unhinged. He rubs it slightly and your burning core oozes more of your arousal out into his hand, burning for that long forgotten orgasm you had hoped for. Using his other hand, he rips open your blouse, the top button letting free from the dress at all the harsh happenings it has been through for the night. 

"Oh dear, look at that," Changbin clicks his tongue repeatedly before plunging his fingers into your core and pulling your bra down with his teeth at the same time, grazing slightly at your breast that it leaves you thrusting yourself on his fingers that drive hard into you. 

You whimper, "Changbin, fuck," and he lets out an amused sound. He thrusts his two fingers in and out of you as he lips wrap around your nipple, lapping at it. He lets go momentarily, hot breath fanning all over your mound and he asks,

"Do you like this or maybe is it some pain that you like?" 

And within a second, Changbin's teeth bite into the flesh by your mound. His unoccupied hand cups your mound, massaging it before flicking your nipple. Harshly. You gasp, head dropping forward as you lean into Changbin's chest, whimpering repeatedly.

"Baby girl likes that, doesn't she?" He flicks it again, pain shooting up your nerves and you slightly bite into his neck. He speaks into your skin. "She likes it a lot."

Changbin says he likes art. He talks about how he loves the purple colours that blend into the pink and then, the colours of your skin. He sucks on your bosom, littering the area around your areola with pretty, pretty marks all while his fingers are plunged deep inside of you, pads of the same rubbing your walls while his palm rubs the collected arousal into your core, pressing into your clit and stimulating it 

Your senses are alert and every breath, every moan that is present in the air is hyperbolised in your ears. You can feel Changbin's rough fingers slowly pull out while his mouth trails down to wrap his lips around your areola, tongue wrapping around your nipple and he laps at it like a starved animal.

"Chan's too nice to you, too gentle, too kind to you. Treats you like some porcelain doll. I don't blame him for that," Changbin taunts you. He pulls his fingers out from your dripping core and his mouth leaves your breasts. Your walls contract at the sudden absence of his fingers and you grind down onto his thighs, expecting — begging more.

Changbin flicks at your stimulated clitoris. It sends a rush of both pain and pleasure intermingled up your spine, hitting your brain cells, leaving you lost and in a trance. He continues the mockery, "I usually don't fuck with humans. In fact, I even condoned Chan for doing that. No offense to you, baby girl, but humans are delicate, too fragile, for my taste. No matter how sex crazed or ravenous you are, you are still no match for a demon by comparison."

Changbin kisses up your neck, marking you up as he draws out his mockery. You think it is weird that this time round Changbin doesn't intimidate or anger you. Rather every word he says sends a trail of arousal shooting downwards, making you wetter with every passing second — making you anticipate for so much more. It is embarrassing at how wet you are from every single teasing you have been put throygh for the night. 

"You may think Chan is different but he isn't, baby girl. He's just as demonic as we are, just as fucked up as every creature from hell is. He might hold back for you, but when you push his buttons well enough, you know he'll unleash it all. Even Jisung. The only difference between them and yours truly is that—" Changbin pauses. His lips quirk up and his hand unbuckles his belt, metal clinging as it comes undone. He unzips the pant and shoves it down as he lifts himself up with you with such ease that your fragile, weak and overstimulated self is in surprise. He pulls his dick out from his formal pants and it is hot, hard and everything you crave at this point. 

You think it's unfair for a man with this big an ego to have this thick a cock and you were this close to blaming God for being unfair when you realise this isn't his territory. And history has proven that Lucifer has always been kind to his followers. 

Changbin strokes his cock, thumb rubbing at the slit at the hot head. You salivate, almost ready to drip from the corner of your mouth when Changbin cuts your thoughts — filthy thoughts, too dirty to be spoken of; filthy, filthy thoughts on how heavy his cock would be on your mouth, on how wide his cock would stretch your mouth and how deep he'd go, perhaps all the way to your throat — and holds your thighs, pulling you closer into him to position you in such a way that his cock is straddled right between the flesh of both your thighs.

"The only difference between me and the other two, baby girl, is that," Changbin's voice drops an octave lower as he almost growls, "I don't make a habit of suppressing it at all. I can grab you by the throat just like this—"  The demon holds you by your throat, his fingers wrapping around your neck hovering right across your jugular and carotid, pressing them slightly. It is scary how you are here trusting a demon fully aware that an inch deeper and you would be accompanying him in your journey to the other world. Or mayhaps it's your trust in your boyfriend. Changbin's fingers are wrapped deliciously around your neck and your pussy leaks juices, coating his dick that is pressed against it. "—and thrust my dick so deep into you and fuck you so hard that your body, mind and soul is broken beyond repair."

Your mouth opens wide, tongue resting against your lower lip and Changbin spits into your mouth, ordering you instantly, "Swallow," and when you do, he lets go of your neck for a second, caressing the roughened area and mumbling, "You're a good, good girl for me, aren't you, baby girl?"

You nod, voice hoarse as you beg like a kitten in her worst heat, "Please, please, please—"

"Please what, baby girl? Use your words like the good girl you are."

"Fuck me, Binnie. Fuck me, fuck me. Need your dick in me. I'll be a good girl." 

Changbin laughs loudly, almost as if he is mocking you. He is, because his fingers wrap around your neck once again as he thrusts his cock upwards. It slides against your wet lips, striking against your clit. "How could I fuck you when your thighs are this inviting? Look at how wet they are because of your arousal. You are leaking, baby. What a good whore."

"Binnie," you gasp, barely phrasing with his hold on your neck as he thrusts back upward. He holds your close as you equally grind on him. "Binnie, I want more. I want more."

"Be a good girl and I'll reward you, baby girl. Be a good girl and let me fuck your thighs." You nod and grind down. "How does it feel like, baby girl, to have my hard cock rubbing against you? Squeeze your legs tightly around me—" You wrap your legs around him, heels digging into his back. "Fuck, just like that." 

The squelching sounds are loud and prominent. The friction of his cock rubbing against your wet skin is amplified in the silence. Your hips move slightly trying to get as much as contact possible on your clit. Your head is empty, voices hindered and you can only think of how badly you want to get fucked, how badly you want Changbin to treat you more roughly. 

Changbin is vocal. Very, very vocal. He whimpers at every rub, moans loudly and grunts as you grind down on him. The filthy words that leave his mouth does not stop — "Your skin feels so warm and cool against my cock. Oh fuck, can you feel your clit throbbing against my dick, baby girl? You naughty little fucking thing."

His pace quickens as he thrusts further, grunting, "You are fucking delicious, baby girl. Chan's been keeping a whole asset away from us."

"Binnie, Binnie—" you moan, breasts rising and falling with every occasional jumping you do on his thighs to match the pace of his thrusts. "Choke me harder, please."

"What?"

"I want you to choke me harder."

"Fuck," and Changbin listens clearly. His fingers dig a little deeper and you are gasping, arousal dripping even more and staining his navy blue formal pants after coating his cock further. "Fucking grind on my cock. Baby girl, you are making me rethink my policy on humans."

"Ungh," you whimper when his cock stills and grinds onto your clit, focusing only on that. Changbin chuckles. His voice is laced with tease, "Easy there, baby girl. If my cock were to accidentally slip into your pussy, who knows what I might do." 

"Please, please—" You barely speak out when Changbin's grip on your neck loosens for a bit.

"Did I fuck the words out of you, baby? Did I fuck you stupid? I haven't even fucked you with my dick yet and look at you already. You would want that right, baby girl? For me to fuck you dumb, fuck you stupid. I'll have you ride my cock till all you know is how to be a good girl for me and how to take my big fat cock."

"Yes, yes, yes—" 

Changbin stops right when your whimpering increases, pitch shooting up higher and your chest rises and falls as he halts. However, in one swift motion, he pins you on the sofa, him on top of you and he stares at you. You are a disoriented mess, hair spilling onto your face and everywhere, clothes open partially but enough to spill everything and your legs — thighs specifically — are glistening in the lights.

"It sucks that you are Chan's girl, sweetheart? Do you think he'd mind sharing more than once?"

Changbin does not wait for your response. With the support of his hands, he brings his body down, head in direct contact with your skirt stained with your arousal and the precum that oozed out from his cock. He sucks deep purple marks into your thighs, trailing them all the way to your glistening core. And then, his mouth is on your sodden lips.

It's a miracle at how you are able to keep your eyes open. All the teasing this night has made your body heavy and yet, like some starving woman on sex steroid, your pussy aches for more. His lips are on your wet ones as he licks at the lips, pushing it apart as he takes in your arousal, lapping in to take it all. It is merciless. The demon he is, is marvellous, hot and a sex god at that. His tongue licks your lips, tip teasing your entrance as he rubs your clit, slowly. he draws small circles over it, tapping at the engorged button till your toes curl in, knees lift up to bend for your feet to press down. Your eyes are squeezed shut and your fingers pull at his hair every time you feel the knot tightening. 

The room is filled with lewd noises and your moans are loud enough for everyone in the house to hear. Changbin licks stripes after stripes on your lips, lapping up your arousal as he hums in delight. Another stripe up your wet lips and he soon wraps his plump pair around your clit and sucks on it, loud noise of suckle resonating and causing you to move your hips slightly. 

Changbin's sharp teeth graze over your clit, nibbling slightly till you feel the knot clench in your stomach. The vortex forms deep within you again, the sign of an impending orgasm and you can only pray that he doesn't leave you begging like Jisung did. It's coming. You are so close, again, for the second time this night and you needed it. You are sure that you would go crazy if you did not receive the release you had so prayed for. Changbin rubs your clit furiously, lips moving back to your cunt as he eats you out. Changbin's tongue flicks to perfection, hitting your sensitised bud over and over again till you snap and come undone all over his face, arousal squirting out and over his entire face.

Your legs quiver as Changbin laps it all up, tongue swiping across your lips till he has drunk every single drop of your arousal. Your eyes that were squeezed shut opens and you see the mess you have made on his face. 

"Fuck, I'm sor—" You try to lift yourself up to help him when Changbin pulls you by your legs closer to him and wraps his lips on your clit, sucking on the bud till it borders overstimulation and you are screaming out in both pain and pleasure, your abdomen pitting at the sight of another orgasm with his actions.

"Binnie, fuck, oh fuck," Tears well up at the corner of your eyes on being overstimulated. You can feel your brain getting fuzzier, sense hyperbolic at everything around you. You are falling into something you are unfamiliar with. "I'm sensitive, fuck. I'm so sensitive."

He moves forward, overstimulating you and your eyes roll up at all your nerves being triggered to send the excess messages of stimulation to your brain, knots tightening and you are ready to combust once again until Jisung walks out of the kitchen, announcing, "Dinner's ready."

"Too bad I had my fill," Changbin sniggers, tongue extending out of his mouth to lick your arousal off the corners of his mouth. Your chest rises and falls and you try to focus in on something on the ceilings — ah, the spokes of the fan, yes. Three. Three. Three. Three. Changbin quickly notices the change in your demeanor, "Baby girl? You alright?"

"Princess?" Chan's rushing to your side as soon as he hears something is up with you. You giggle, laughing soon enough as you look up. Changbin stands up from your side, concern filling him when you start laughing. Jisung, on the other hand, walks to keep the pasta on the table behind the sofa. "Princess, are you there with me?"

It is the rush of endorphins that cloud your brain. Your heart beats fast, breathing rapid and it's a different kind of high you are in. You hold onto Chan's sleeve, giggles nonstop as you mumble in between, "Chan, uh, Chan! Chan!"

"I've got you, princess," he says softly, before wrapping his arm around your thighs and the other over your torso before lifting you up. "I've got you. I'm right here." You cling onto his shirt, snuggling into him as he verbally assures you. 

He stops midway in his path, turns to look at two of his friends, especially glaring at Changbin, before firmly saying, "Eat and leave. I'll talk to you later. I have to take care of her."

"We could hel—"

"Not today. Not now. I'll—" Chan sighs, holding you closer to him as you mumble words incoherently, smiling to yourself. His face softens, as if he's trying to comfort Changbin who looks guilty for the first time before Chan in eons of years together. "We'll talk to you later."

"Okay."

"And guys?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you for tonight. I know she liked it. A bit too much, if anything."

Chan holds you close.

So close to him that even the rush of endorphins in your brain isn't loud enough to hear how loud your own heart beats next to his faint beating one. 

His arms wrap around your frame, hand holding your head close into his chest as he soothingly rubs the back of it and at every short interval, he coos into your head, "I'm right here, baby." Your body shifts to a relaxed position from the very tensile state it was in that second thanks to his voice, at his words and at his very being.

"Relax, baby. This is going to pass. You did so well, so, so well."

And you giggle into his chest, eyes closing warmly for a fraction there before looking up at him. Chan believes if synesthesia was a thing for demons, he would see the colours behind your eyes. How the crimson red slowly — so, so slowly — turned to darkest shades of pink and then the softest ones and Chan knows. He knows for sure that this is it. This is his whole world.

Chan feels jealous of humankind for the first time.

He is envious about how it would not be him that grows old with you, has kids with you and gets to be physical with you at every point. He knows he can't do that with you forever. He cannot do this with you forever. And even if he did decide to fuck it and do it anyway, you'd leave him one day. 

Chan knows he could never do much. He cannot change fate or turn himself into human for you. That is impossible. And yet he hopes — ah, a dangerous thing for a demon to have, something they mustn't possess — that every moment he spends with you is infinite and never dies. 

Your body tightens up again, goes rigid in his hold and he worries for you. That is Chan's first mistake, or so he believed years back. He cares for you. He cares for you in ways a demon shouldn't. He cares for you enough to know that demons have feelings or at the very least, he does. He cares enough to call it love. 

"It's alright," he mumbles and you mumble back, "We couldn't spend time together tonight."

"It's still eight. We have time," Chan smiles and rubs the hair off your face, only to press a soft chaste kiss on your forehead. "We have a lot of time. You should rest. You were such a good girl tonight."

"I was," you hold onto his shirt before letting your hands trail underneath and Chan realises the endorphins are slowly calming down, keeping you in a safer position than you were minutes back. "Wasn't I, daddy?"

"Princess, you really had a lot today, do you—"

"I want to. I—" You kiss Chan, hands cupping his face and lips pulling at his before letting your tongue twine with his. You moan unknowingly as your body rises to lean further into him. Your fingers graze the small stubble by the side of his jaws as you find yourself getting lost in him, in the feeling of his hot tongue lapping around yours.

"Mmh," Chan moans before holding your jaw tighter, leg wrapping around your frame. In a swift motion, he pins you down underneath him as he still kisses you. His lips are beyond tempting as you draw every kiss out, draw every moan out from him. He pulls back the minute you lift your hips to grind onto his crotch, feeling himself against your bare core. "We should stop—"

"No. You're my Valentine. Not Changbin or Jisung. You'll always be my Valentine," you respond, tugging him down into you by his shirt. Chan's eyes widen before softening as he looks at you — looks at you like you are everything better than him, hell and afterlife. 

"But you really had it rough today and—"

"I want more. I want so much more rough and I want them from my boyfriend. No one else." Your hand grades the stubble again and Chan leans into your hold. "The fact that you've never been rough with me and that I had to hear about it from Changbin and Jisung did no good to my ego, baby."

"They were—" Chan pauses on his own this time. You don't interrupt or cut him. He knows he can't lie to you. He knows how much he holds back but Chan knows that he has no issue with that. It's a safer option for you and yet here you are tonight asking him to be himself, be everything he is and show you how far he can go — he was going to fucking lose it at that alone. 

"You know they were not lying," your voice lower. "They are demons, you had said, and that I should be careful. But Chan, baby, you are a demon too. So why do you hold back? Is it because I'm a human?"

"Yes," Chan reluctantly agrees and you sigh. You drop your hand from his face and Chan's lips pucker in response. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You know you won't," you reassure him. "You could never hurt me unknowingly and even if you did, you know you'd take care of me till I'm back to the same."

"There shouldn't be a situation that leads to the worst case scenario, Y/N."

"But I want that. I want you to show me everything and I want to know if I'd like that. Give me a choice. I—" You gulp, scared of telling it out loud finally now that you have come to a partial conclusion to it yourself. "I liked Changbin being rough on me. I liked it a lot. I liked Jisung edging me. I liked it so much that all I could think about till Changbin touched me was of Jisung giving me an orgasm."

Chan's hand presses down by the sheets adjacent to your face and he holds it tightly. If care was an emotion he shouldn't have felt, jealousy is another that should never have a place in a demon's mind. Especially not when they were all brought up with the thought of sharing. 

He hates how Changbin got to be rough with you before him. Something so petty and so, so territorial arises in him that he wasn't even aware for him to feel this. He knows he gave consent. He knows he was there to hear it all and yet hearing you say you liked it brought in exactly two emotions in him that conflicted each other so much that he knew he was going feral — a) delight, over you being so content and over you being so understanding of demonic natures and b) jealousy, over another demon having had you in ways only he had before. 

"Chan?"

"Yes?"

"You were lost there for a minute."

"You promise me you'll tell me to stop if it gets too much, right?"

"Always," you peck at his lips. "I'll always do that. I just want everything you are and you have to offer. I don't want to know stuff from others. I want to feel them through you."

And Chan kisses you again. This time however, it is a lot different from the previous kiss you drew out from him. His lips find home in yours as they come upon you, imperatively. The kiss gets deeper each time, tongues chasing and lapping each other, earning continuous whines and whimpers coming out from both of you. Your arms wrap themselves around his neck, your fingers trailing up his nape to his hair, gripping the small hair at his back and Chan kisses you passionately, his hands cupping and tilting your face, angling it so that he could intensify the kiss as he desired.

He's desperate to show you everything he is.

The very second your mouth had brushed his, Chan knows that you are the one for him. It had always been you. Even now, if he closed his eyes, he could feel the tingle over his lips and your warm breath wafting over his chin. It is exactly as he had carved in his mind, etched so deep that it could never fade away.

His hand is prominent on its grip on your neck, as you lift your chin higher — so you can press your lips harder into his —  while your hands fist into his shirt — white, clean and perfect all for the night only for it to be discarded to the very corner of the bedroom the two of you share. His free hand drops to wind around your waist, arm pressed between the bed and you and in one swift movement, he pulls your body flush against his.

Gasping at the motion, Chan seizes the opportunity to slip his tongue between your teeth, your lips parting further in response. His tongue swipes across yours, curling around your tongue and gently massaging it. The metal ball at the tip of his tongue provides a sharp coldness and you hiss into his mouth, only for him to provide more contact with the metal that it leaves you emitting moans into him. 

It is electrifying. Every single thing with Chan has been exciting, unpredictable and leaves you begging for more. It is perhaps mankind's adhesive nature towards sin itself that made you like this — that made you into such a moldable clay in his hands and you don't mind going to hell for this. Because every single moment you lived on earth, if it were with him, would be relentlessly passionate. You would never want to swap with anything, even if someone handed heaven to you on a platter.

Because Chan is your heaven. 

When you feel his tongue flick against yours, slightly, grazing it, your hands uncurl from his shirt - only to wind up his chest, along his throat, towards the nape of his neck. You find yourself lapping around the metal ball on his tongue, rolling your eyes shut. 

With every passing second, you find yourself drowning into Chan. His body is pressed flat against yours, chest against yours, his saccharine taste coating your senses till that is all you can think about, and his warm breath all over your face. You find yourself drowning into him — you always have — his entire presence encasing your senses as you lose yourself deep into his entire being.

Is this how people were dragged into hell? Tempting. 

Chan pulls back and you smile at your boyfriend, like a little girl happy to have received her candy. You glance down at your shirt that is half open as a result of everything that happened tonight and proceed to unbutton the rest and remove it off your body. Chan's eyes linger more than ever on the marks that Changbin has left all over your body — marks that have turned dark purplish red and he seethes at the very sight of it in anger. 

"If we do this again, on your request, of course," Chan kisses over all the marks slowly, taking his own time to lick it over with his tongue before pressing his lips against it. "I'm going to be physically present. Not going to let anyone mark my baby up like this. That's for me."

And Chan sucks over it. His hand goes behind your back to unhook your bra and toss it aside. His hand lands firm on your breast, fingers playing with your nipple as his mouth slowly moves down to kiss your other nipple before sucking on it, lewd sounds emitting from his mouth.

"Daddy, fuck—" Your back arches, hips jutting upwards into his pelvis only to feel his covered growing length rough against your sticky skin. Chan uses his free hand to hold onto your waist and lift you slightly, allowing you to hook your leg over his waist, tight enough to tease you.

Chan hums in approval as you grind up, exposed core moving and staining your favorite formal pants of his, all while his tongue laps at your areola. The metal ball right at the centre of the tip of his tongue is pressed to your nipple and the difference in temperature has your mind spiralling. 

His palm squeezes your breast, thumb running over your nipple before he purposefully leans down and gives you a taste of his warm mouth. You gape open at the contact of his mouth on your nipple, teeth purposely grazing against the skin only for the metal ball to soothe over the burn.

Puckering his lips, he presses them to the sensitive spot by your jugular before sucking harshly. Responsively, a low mew resounds from your lips, leaving them in the open for just you and him to hear to.

"Do you remember the safe word?"

You nod, "Red for you to stop, yellow for you to give me time and green for you to proceed."

"Perfect," and Chan moves so quickly to remove your skirt off your body as he hovers over your completely naked self, fully clothed. You have always wondered if Chan would ever be into power play, especially with how he could project himself sometimes. Like in moments like these. You make a note in your head to ask him about the very thing. 

Chan kisses your lips, tugging at your lip before dipping himself further, getting lost in you. He rubs his tongue across your lower lip, metal ball harsh against your coral lips. He kisses your cheek and then, your pinna.

You feel his warm breath against your ear, shuddering in impact. You are about to ask him to stop teasing you — that you've had enough foreplay the whole night. However, in the next second, his hand lowers and lands on your inner thighs in a loud spank and you gasp, not expecting it. He hits the same skin almost a second after before the pain recedes and you are moaning out loud, brain wiring differently as heat pools between your legs.

“Fuck," he swears under his breath. His hand edges closer to you, dangling so close to your core that he can feel your arousal by your thighs, all over again and over the dried ones by your thighs. "You’re so dripping wet,” Chan mutters, only to laugh and comment, "At least I can credit this to myself."

Chan leans forward, next to your ear again and mumbles, "Baby, I'll be using words that would come off as very demeaning but I need you to know that I would never use them unless we are in the mood. You are and will be my baby girl, my princess forever. Is that alright?"

"It is," you blush, heat shooting straight to the core and you can feel yourself leak further, embarrassingly, right when Chan's hand is so close to your lips.

"Fuck, you are dripping. Such a filthy whore," Chan taunts and you feel it, deep in your gut. You've never seen this side to Chan but fuck, you love it. You love it more than Changbin having called you a good girl. You want to be called a whore, a slut — as long as you were his whore, his slut. 

Chan collects the arousal that you drip out, coating his fingers and palm. Moving his fingers, he collects your arousal that leaks from your gaping hole and watches the transparent stick to his fingers. The bulge in his pants is hard and seems too painful to be confined. You gulp evidently, throat parched. Chan's hand edges closer towards your lips and languidly strokes your slit with his fingers coating in your arousal. The pads of his finger circles your hole and you mewl, clutching slightly onto his shoulder. 

"Daddy, please, need your fingers in me."

"You've been fucked by two demons already and you are still so horny," he scoffs. "Impressive." He raises an eyebrow. Almost like he is teasing you further, he continues to play with your cunt. You whimper, gasping and hoping to feel the burn of the stretch that would come with him thrusting his fingers up.

Each small action Chan does has you moving forward in pleasure, hoping for the same as you try to move with his hand, all in an attempt to drive his digit deeper into you. Nonetheless, Chan controls the pressure and the pace and no matter how hard you try to move, he never lets you have his way, clearly showing that it was him in power here, not you. Growing tired of his teasing, anticipation filling you to insanity, tears brimming your eyes, you whine, “Fucking hell, Ch— Daddy, come on."

Chan chuckles, kissing your clavicle, biting into the skin above and sucking furiously enough to mark you. You sigh, breath exhaled out desperately. "Please, please, pl— Ah!"

Chan hits your core with the pads of his finger, labia silently flapping in impact and you moan at the pain that shoots up from your sensitive core. This causes you to moan, body moving forwards in a surprised reaction. The palm hitting the clit sends electric sparks throughout your body, your brain almost fusing. The sound is sharp as it rings through the air before you feel pain along the vulva. Crying in pain, you mumble softly out before holding to him softly, “Please,” you implore. "I need you, daddy." 

The sensation of the pad of his thumb swiping against your swollen, needy bud causes you to buck into him, your cunt soon contracting around nothing. Chan mumbles as he lowers his body silently, kissing your skin on his way. He kisses the skin right above your acetabulum, tracing his lips down till he kisses your core, a soft peck over it. 

It is a stark difference in your clothing that takes you aback; of how you were completely naked while Chan was completely clothed and yet that excited you. The power he has is enough to have you ooze out more arousal that would prompt the sheets to stain further. 

Chan licks at your core, once, twice and then he is sucking at your clit, like a man walking days in a desert with no water source. His mouth is against your core, licking on it, the cold wet metal ball pressing against it, before he sucks on your engorged button. The lewd noises that leave your mouth are pornographic and your legs have lost their strength.

You are about to say a word before Chan curls his fingers up into you and your back arches slightly at the feeling of his fingers in you. "D-Daddy!" 

You feel Chan searching your walls for the spot he has felt enough that he finds it in a few minutes. He rubs against the same spot that brings the loudest reaction from you before dragging his fingers back slowly only to slip his fingers easily into you again, the slick of your arousal dripping down your thighs. The sheets are stained. His pants are stained and so is his white shirt. 

"No demon I've fucked before would have sex this close to being out of the world. Fuck, princess. Your slutty pussy is clutching onto my fingers." He rubs your walls and your enlarged button. Your hips gyrate with him, thrusting and chasing after his fingers desperately as you press into him. 

Chan's fingers are fast as they thrust in and out of your core. You could find yourself getting wetter and wetter with the lewd sounds that resonate the walls. The demon presses his metal piercing flat against your clit and you gasp. "F-Fuck, Daddy!"

And as Chan sucks on your button of nerves, his fingers thrusts into you at a relentless pace, pushing right at the spot that has you feeling the endorphins spilling into your bloodstream. You feel the knot that tightens in your stomach, ready to fall over the cliff till Chan's teeth graze your clit and you lose it.

“Come for me, my princess,” Chan urges. His command, paired with the way his tongue dances across your clit and how his rough thick fingers drags against your sweet spot, has you careening off of the brink of pleasure and into an oblivion. You can feel your bloodstream soaking slowly with the rush of endorphins. You need a moment to calm down from how good that orgasm is, as Chan slowly rubs you through your high. 

You think Chan is about to drag his fingers out of you and away when he picks up the speed of his fingers. He toys with your sensitive clit. 

"Daddy, ah—" You feel the pain slightly of being overstimulated, slowly getting intense and intense. You are crying and he slows down, looking into your eyes, expecting a colour to be screamed and when you don't, smiling softly, he continues, kissing you and swallowing every cry you have. 

You feel your skin standing at the very precipice of being sensitive to anything. In a split second without any warning, his mouth still on you, Chan holds your clit between his forefinger and thumb before twisting it and instantly, you feel something deep within you tighten up.

That was it. Your breath is disoriented. Your jaw falls loose and you let out a loud cry as a powerful orgasm cuts right through you. Chan drops his hand on to the bed as you squirt on being overstimulated. Your arousal soaks his shirt, fabric sticking to his body and he is amused. Your thighs shake, quivering uncontrollably as your back curves, body lifting up. Chan's other arm wraps around you as he kisses you through this. Your muscles tremble, ache and are sour. Eventually, you find your hips stopping gradually as you fall victim to the pleasure, squirting slowly receding. His hand is covered in your juices and he chuckles against your lips after pulling back, placing you lightly on your back.

"That was so fucking hot," he looks at you proudly, pressing his forehead against yours. Your eyes are closed, post that powerful orgasm, tears staining your cheeks. He moves only after your eyes open, making sure you are alright and are able to breath right.

"Daddy," you smile and Chan smiles brighter. That's his girl. That's his girl, alright.

"You've got my shirt messy, princess." He chuckles and your cheeks heat up in embarrassment as your head drops to the side to look away. Chan holds your face with his messy hands and kisses you, drawing out another long kiss to rid you away from any other thoughts besides ones of fucking him tonight. 

You pull away and mumble, "It's not fair that you were dressed completely in the first place."

"Is that so now?"

"Yes," you huff and your hand trails up Chan's arm, fingers digging into his arm. "It's a damn bother." 

Chan unbuttons his shirt, taking his own time with it as his fingers roll against them before popping the material out of hold from the button. Your hand lies in wait by his waist, fingers rubbing against the curve of his ass and you stare up at him. With every button that he maneuvers his shirt out of, you can see his tattoos more and more clearly.

The feathers that poke out through the corner of his shoulder, flat on the coracoid process, more present superficially right above his clavicle, are detailed. You can see the feathers variant in their styles as they fall from a greater source that lies behind him.

Chan's tattoo had always been magnificent, as if they were rebuking the almighty as he acknowledged his very being. The ends of the black feathers also tease into the head of his biceps. Two beautiful wings, bold and powerful, arise from his spine and exhibit loudly on his back.

Your mouth gapes open at the sight of it as Chan bends forward to unbutton his pants, the wings clearly visible to you and your heart leaps at the sight of it. Chan raises an eyebrow at you, staring down at his tattoo, as soon as he pulls down his pants. 

"Ah, the tattoo kink," he chuckles. "How could I forget."

"It's not a thing," you blush.

"Please," he laughs, eyes wrinkling soon. "There's no way you could lie to me, princess." 

You blush. Crunching forward, you stretch your arms, fingers pointing to draw against the outline of the wings. "It's beautiful," you whisper. "It's so fucking beautiful, Chan." He chooses to ignore the call of his name because nothing else would sound sweeter in this moment than his name itself. What you would do to give everything in wrapping your lips around his flesh by the corners of the wings and to ruin it with your own marks.

He unsheathes himself off the confines of his undergarment. Chan has always been bigger in comparison to every single one you had seen, girth firmer than you had envisioned and the frenum piercing has you salivating. It shines under the dim lighting of your room, your eyes unable to drift away from it, lips parted slightly.

You let out a small mewl — the walls of your core throbs against his member at the sensations of the piercings rubbing against the same — enhancing both your senses. Chan notices how your thighs quiver and he raises his eyebrows in sheer amusement.

"You really don't fail to surprise me, princess," Chan sniggers. "Look at you eye fucking me all while I just unstrip."

"Please," your eyes glisten and Chan coos. "Please. Need your cock in me, daddy. Need your big fat cock to fill me up and stuff me stupid." Your hands move down to hold his engorged length in your hand, rubbing the metal balls on the head with your fingers and feeling the coldness in a sharp contrast to his hot girth.

"You've been such a good, good whore tonight. Daddy's going to reward you well. So well." His hand trails down your frame and you shudder as they move down your sides.

Chan moves slightly, his hands bracing on either side of yours. The strong muscles of his arms twitch as he bears the entirety of his body weight on them. You push your body upwards and you stretch your arms up. You run your hands over his naked shoulders and his back, grazing his tattoo a little more before tangling your fingers into his hair as you tug him further over you. 

A soft gasp slips from your mouth when his weight presses over you: his defined chest over yours and his hips pressing into yours in the most enticing way. His cock brushes against your thighs slicken in your arousal and you moan. The metal ladder framing underneath his shaft is cold against your skin and you can feel the goosebumps that arise atop your skin all the way to spread the heat to your core.

Chan's arms wrap around your body, holding you so close to him that your chests brush against each other. You feel his hardened erection sharp against your thighs, brushing against your core and you whimper in his hold. "Please."

"Please what, princess?"

"Fuck me, daddy."

Chan's lips crash onto your swollen ones with a force that has to be reckoned. He grinds his heavy cock into your core, rubbing over your clit. It leaves you moaning, holding onto his deltoids with a ferocious grip, fingers digging into the muscle.

Holding onto the opportunity that presents itself to him, Chan seizes and dives his tongue right into your mouth. They glide across your tongue, your body arching in pleasure. You feel the metallic ball of his piercing run over your tongue in a wistful want, you wrap your own around it before kissing him at the same intensity. Chan's groan hits back through the air in barely a whisper as you swallow most of the sound. Immediately, you let go of his lips and your hand reaches out for his cock slowly coated in precum, you squeeze it softly.

Before you can think straight, you can sense Chan holding his cock in his hand to position himself and with a mere grunt, he enters through your twitching core. His thick girth pushes your walls apart as they move further down into you. Your grip on his deltoid slips to his biceps, desperate to catch hold of something. All that leaves your mouth are parched breaths and desperate moans. 

The lewd noises from his dick seeping through your wetness to enter you and stretch you out resonates through the wall only to hit back to both of your ears. Chan's gaze shifts downwards to watch his cock spread open your lips and disappear into your being — all it does to the demon is excite him more. 

You feel the piercings against your wall, dragging across your softness. The slight dentations cause you to moan as Chan moves it against it over and over again, ensuring to hit your spot as much as possible with every thrust. 

"You're dripping all over my cock, fuck," he grunts as he slips out only to thrust back in carefully. You grind back this time round, trying to match his pace with your fragile body. It takes you aback when you feel Chan grow into his complete girth inside you, stretching you out with an intense burn.

"Daddy," you choke out, words caught in the back of your throat. "Too big, ah."

“No, it’s not, princess," he bites his lip. "We both know you can take it. You're doing so well,” Chan coos. You find him slowing down with every thrust, making sure you are alright. His fingers ghosts right adjacent to your side, caressing your breasts with affectionate touches. 

Slowly, the pain fades away, only to be replaced by a rush of pleasure with every thrust. The hard metal of his piercings drag against the sensitive nerves of your wet core, enough to stimulate every other nerve in your body, rubbing it over and over again. 

Chan notices your face calming and how you were truly living in the moment. He takes this as a sign enough to thrust quicker, metal piercings striking the spot furiously. The sudden intrusion has your lips parting, eyes rolling back and tongue falling out in ecstasy. Your thighs, that quake, spread apart to take more of him, to let him have more control over you. Your walls clamp down on him, holding his cock tightly and magnifying the thick length of his. The moment his length pokes at the end of your cervix, you jerk, throat drying up instantly as a reaction. He was so thick and so full that he reached all the way to your cervix, ready to show you what it truly is like being fucked by a demon.

Chan grunts as he presses his hand down on your belly after pressing a short kiss. There is a slight bulge and Chan loves how you are, almost as if you are made for him. This leads your wall to press around him. His length pulses against your walls and you feel him completely, in his length and girth. Your walls ripple around his length accepting him completely — in his large, engorged, thick length.

"Fuck, I love this. Hell, I love how your juices coat my length and your lips kiss around my cock. Perfectly fitting my cock as if you were made for me,” he mutters. "Aren't you? You're mine. All mine." 

“So pretty, princess,” he coos. With every thrust of his length into you, your body is jolted back and forth, rocking the bed loudly, at an impeccable strength along with your boyfriend's.

In between all the thrusts of his cock, the way his piercings mercilessly drags inside you, triggering every single nerve bundle ever to exist in your body, you feel the clouds of euphoria come at your being. You slowly find yourself losing your being into the sheer bliss of Chan's actions.

With one more rough thrust, you are unable to hold back and with a loud cry, you come undone around Chan's cock. Feeling your walls clamp vigorously around his length, he lets out a deep growl and continues to thrust his hips into you. It is these thrusts that draw out your orgasm, bringing forth waves of bliss and euphoria, slowly seeming to shut down all your senses. The results of your intense orgasm still fluctuate through you. Your thighs tremble and toes curl. Your walls wrap so tightly around his cock that it drives him close.

His cock pulsates in your warmth and you know it too. "Oh fuck! That’s it, princess,” Chan groans out. He thrusts back into you messily, trying to keep up with the same initial pace. However, he falls out of the same relentless thrusting in the pursuit of his own orgasm. Burying his cock as deep into you, he erupts inside of you. He plays with your clit and comes undone in your core as he swears under breath, unfiltered compliments showered upon you. 

His thick cum fills you up. Buried deep, he empties everything of his load, coating your walls with thick stripes of his residue. Slowly, you find yourself back to your senses, body more alive, having ridden yourself of the giddiness of your orgasm. Your body shudders under him in your haze of orgasm.

Chan pulls out his softened cock out from you, glistening under the coated mixture of yours and his orgasm. He holds you close and rubs the side of your face gently as he compliments you, "You did so well, princess. I'm proud of you."

You kiss his lips in response, a soft, chaste one. Chan continues showering you with compliments as he falls by your side, holding you close into his sweaty naked being. He lifts himself soon enough to attend to you when you pull him down, locking him with your grip on his wrist.

"Let me take care of you, baby."

"Five minutes more, please." You look at him with a puppy like expression and Chan sighs, knowing fully well that there would be no way that he could deny your request. 

"Fine, princess," he rubs your hair away from your forehead and pulls you impossibly closer into his chest. 

"Chan?"

"Hm?"

"Happy Valentine's Day, baby."

Chan chuckles, kissing the top of your head and then your forehead as he teases, "You worked too much for a Valentine's Day, baby."

"Please," you stretch the syllable and speak into Chan's chest. "If anything, it is the wildest one I've ever lived to attend."

And as Chan holds you through the night, attending and taking care of you, his phone beeps soon enough,

[1] Voicemail from Changbin Happy Valentine's Day, beautiful and to you too, Chan. Call me back when you hear this. Bye.

[1] Message from Jisung This is how technology works??!!!! Oh my God. Fancy. Anyhow, Happy Valentine's Day. This goes down in my history as best Valentine's Day ever, bitches. P.S. Best sex ever too. Let's have a foursome sometime soon.

[sortasirius]

“Despair” and Dean and Cas

Well well well, winning is my favorite thing.

As usual, this is going to be as long as hell. And fair warning, it’s extremely emotional.

So here it is, the thing that we have been barrelling towards for years, literally years.

Just want to point out this.  Also, I will NEVER allow someone to speak negatively about this writing group, EVER.

Team Free Dads starting off the episode is so sweet, so scary.  Cas’ calming, Dean’s fear, Sam’s desperation, really just hammering home how much they love Jack, how his pain is pain for them, how losing him is unbearable.

“I can’t stop this.  I’m coming apart.  I don’t want to hurt you.  Don’t let me hurt you.”

Oof.  If you’ve ever question whether Jack is a Winchester, this line should shut that shit down for you.

When I tell you I was PISSED when Billie sent Jack to the Empty to EXPLODE?????  PAIN.

“Yeah the Empty can’t come to earth, not without being summoned.”

Hello Bobo, clue number 1.

The fact that they only had Jack in limbo for like five seconds was great for my heart health, thank u very much Bobo.

Also Dean wielding Death’s scythe?????? KING?????

Man, Sam and Dean’s growth.  The way that they’re able to, idk, actually speak on how they feel without death looming or fear or pain.  It’s just a conversation, just an honest conversation of Dean admitting his mistakes, admitting how he felt.  Admitting that he fucked up, and Sam forgiving him for it.

CHARLIE AND HER GF CHARLIE AND HER GF CHARLIE AND HER GF

Also...hunters and their “dates.”  Two hunters who are happily together, who are happily fighting monsters.  Hm.  Sounds like a Saileen/Destiel parallel to me boys.

You ever wish Cas would look and the mirror and take the great advice he gives others?  Because I do.  He’s always tried to be “useful” for Sam and Dean, for Jack, always tried to make sure that he’s useful enough that they keep him around.  But what he doesn’t understand, what he’s never understood, is that they need him because of who he is, not because of what he contributes.

Remind y’all of anything?

And here we have Clue Number 2

And then, Sam’s realization.  Eileen.

Did I begin full tilt screaming no in my apartment when he said her name?  Who’s to say?

How can a lock screen cause me this much pain????

Okay but: Charlie loses Stevie, Sam loses Eileen.  Clue Number 3.

I feel like I don’t talk enough about how much Sam loves Eileen.  About how obvious it is that they are endgame, about how happy he is when he talks about her.  This just feels like a blow to the stomach, but we’ve barely even started.

Sam immediately shifting into protective leader mode?  He is the love of my life.

Dean’s simple nod, like it’s a given?  Enough to do me in right there.

This is another episode where it’s just so clear that Sam is the leader of the North American hunters.  Everyone knows him, everyone is willing to follow him.  He’s knowledgeable and kind and fair and just and an incredibly capable fighter.  Once again, I don’t believe his work on earth is done.

Can we also please talk about how FRIGHTENING IT WAS for Jack to kill that plant???  I don’t really have much of a comment on it because I was literally just like ?????

With Billie saying that it’s Chuck, the way that people were dusted, very similar to Becky and Amara, I honestly wouldn’t be surprised, especially with Donna getting taken off the board.  It’s like I said last week, I don’t buy that he’s taken himself off the board, he’s too invested in the unraveling of this story to take a step back.  He’s gotta break them before he can defeat them, that’s the only way.

And here we go, into one of the most painful and surreal things I will ever write about.

Dean’s speech.  His guilt, his regret.  The shame of not only trapping himself, but the pain, the horror of trapping Cas.

“I just lead us into another trap.  All because I, I couldn’t hurt Chuck.  Because I was angry and because I just needed something to kill, and because that’s all I know how to do.”

“Dean-”

“It was Chuck all along.  We never should have left Sam and Jack, we should be there with them now.  Everybody’s gonna die, Cas.  Everybody.  I can’t stop it.”

His narrative arc.  Tied up in a bow.

“She’s gonna get through that door.”

“I know.”

“And she’s gonna kill you and then she’s gonna kill me.  I’m sorry.”

Cas smiles.

Cas knows.  He knows what’ll get them out of this, and he knows that he would do anything in this Universe for Dean Winchester. The human man he fell for.

“When Jack was dying, I made a deal to save him.”

“You what?”

“The price was my life.  When I experienced a moment of true happiness, the Empty would be summoned and it would take me forever.”

“Why are you telling me this now?”

“I always wondered, ever since I took that burden, that curse, I’ve wondered what it could be, what my true happiness could even look like.  I never found an answer, because the one thing I want, it’s something I know I can’t have. 

“But I think I know, I think I know now...happiness isn’t in the having, it’s in just being.  It’s in just saying it.”

“What are you talking about, man?”

The most selfless thing Cas does in this, and he does a lot of selfless things, is to tell Dean Winchester how impossibly good he is.  To tell him that he is worthy, to tell him that he is adored.

“I know, I know how you see yourself, Dean.  You see yourself the same way our enemies see you.  You’re destructive and you’re angry and you’re broken and you’re daddy’s blunt instrument.  And you think that hate and anger, that’s what drives you, that’s who you are.  It’s not.  And everyone who knows you sees it, and everything you have ever done, the good and the bad, you have done for love.  You raise your little brother for love, you fought for this whole world for love.  That is who you are.

“You’re the most caring man on earth.  You are the most selfless, loving human being I will ever know.  You know, ever since we met, ever since I pulled you outta Hell...knowing you has changed me.

“Because you cared, I cared.  I cared about you, I cared about Sam, I cared about Jack, I cared about the whole world because of you. 

“You changed me, Dean.”

“Why does this sound like a goodbye?”

Dean’s greatest fear. His fear of those loving him leaving him. The terror of being alone.

“Because it is.

The head shake.  Don’t love me.  Don’t love me if it means you’ll leave me, don’t love me, everyone I love leaves me.  Don’t leave me.  Don’t love me.  Don’t leave me.

“Don’t do this, Cas.”

Just like I always thought.  One last look at Dean before the Empty takes him.

“Cas-”

“Goodbye Dean.”

And Dean is left, broken on the floor, unable to answer Sam’s calls, unable to do anything.  It doesn’t matter to him that Chuck has wiped everyone out, it doesn’t matter to him that Sam and Jack might need him.  It doesn’t matter.  It doesn’t matter, because the thing that mattered still hangs on his lips, still waiting to be said, and now he won’t get another chance to say it.

The fact that I am writing this, even with all my spec, with all my analysis of the writers’ room, of their text, of the way Dabb and co had approached this story, nothing could have ever prepared me for this.  Nothing could have prepared me for a three and a half minute, uninterrupted scene where Cas confesses not only that he loves Dean, but that he has always loved him.

I talk a lot about how these writers don’t get the credit they deserve.  Unfortunately, from most of this fandom, they never will.  We will likely never know the fights with the network they had, the steps backward they had to take, the way they had to beg and fight and claw to get this on the screen.  But they did it.  They did it for these characters, they did it for this dinosaur of a show, and yeah, they did it for us.

It was not easy, I can promise you, to get this greenlit.  They had to fight for this, they likely had to call in favors and make threats and quite literally put their careers on the line (you may scoff at that, but WB is a BIG company, especially in the TV/movie world) for this story.  This story of Dean and Cas, the man dragged out of Hell and the angel who fell for him.

I have tons more to say, and will likely have several more posts about this, but I want to leave all my babes who are worried that that was the end for Dean and Cas with some takeaways.

Sam is missing Eileen.  Dean is missing Cas.  That is no longer a fun subtextual parallel, that is it for them.  Their respective endgames are missing, and they will not know their peace until they get them back.  Chuck will not win.  That’s not the story being told, and right now?  He’s winning.  He’s broken them, left them with nothing, left them with an empty world and a hole in each of their hearts where their person (or angel) used to be.

Our show is going to end with “contentment.”  “Contentment” isn’t from Sam and Dean being filled with grief and hitting the open road.  It isn’t Sam getting Eileen back and leaving Dean with no one.  “Contentment” is Sam and Eileen, Dean and Cas.  Together.

[elfwoodfae]

Writing’s On The Wall

Chapter-7 The Spy Who Loved Me

Warnings: Smut.

Author’s note: I’m sorry it took me this long to update, my mental health was not doing good and life got a bit too much out of me, but I’m doing better. Also is a little short but I’m getting back on track so it will be better from now on.

His father had always told him, “It is the only option to be feared, is the only way to keep them in control.” Words that as a child he had never understood. Perhaps that was the exact reason he found himself in this predicament, if he had just pushed enough until you feared him.

The words leave his mouth before he can properly process them, his mind snapping back to reality. He can practically see the ghost bumps covering your skin, the utter shock of this confession behind the glass of your eyes, but before he has time to think about it or time for you to react his body moves, lurching him forward onto your form. The impact of his arms wrapping around you makes you sway back slightly, the warmth of the fireplace ghosting over your back. Your hands raise, flatting over his chest, your eyes finding his, the wolf and the doe, ready to be devoured. He doesn’t push forward, he doesn’t move down, he only stays, waiting, his hand moves over your cheek, his fingertips caressing your skin so softly it may had not even happen at all, your eyes close at the touch, his fingers surprisingly soft, not a hint of roughness can be felt in them.

His lips part, the shadow of his breath passing over you as he speaks, his eyes burn so deeply into yours they may as well turn you into ashes. Perhaps he is the human incarnation of Lucifer, so beautiful, so lovely but so deadly, prying his victims with lies until he can devour their soul, only leaving their beating heart behind as a trophy of his victory.

“I wish we had met in different circumstances.” He has never consider himself a sentimental man, in fact being so void of emotion is what made him so imperfect in his parent’s eyes, but right now, he swears there’s a prickle of something burning on the back of his mind, washing over him as your eyes soften, your hands trailing over his chest, placing themselves on the side of his neck, your thumb softly caressing the edge of his jaw.

Your eyes close, your throat contracting over a swallow, your hands move him to you, it doesn’t matter anymore what could have been or what it was, it’s all gone now, and maybe this is what it was meant to be all along. Even if all you see is darkness you can still feel his eyes on you, observing you, and before you change your mind and this hypnotic spell he seems to have put over you is broken, you close the distance between you both. Your lips find his, soft, warm, the faintest memory of alcohol hitting your taste buds as he opens his, his eyes never closing.

Is this the torture he deserves for a life of hate, or perhaps God sent the Devil disguised as an Angel to collect him, he is not sure, but he would willingly go.

A dry swallow breaks the silence, your hand softly caressing his jaw, touching him, grounding yourself in his presence. His eyes close, the air escaping his lungs, his skin feels so soft, so warm, had it always been this soft? The silence breaks as his hands grab yours with a softness you have never experience from him.

“All this years, I have only done what I had to.” The ghost of his breath caresses the inside of your wrist, his lips moving over your skin, your eyes closing when they finally connect with the pulse point betraying the beating of your heart.

With a sigh your breathing quickens, the decision being made even before there’s a chance for your brain to change its mind, your heart working fast to win this race. His lips finally find yours. Suffocating, burning, the universes have align, finally Aphrodite has found her Hades, Lucifer has found his redemption, the forgiveness he doesn’t deserve. Your lips are quick to open, his warm tongue instantly needing to consume all of your mouth, his hands gripping at both sides of your head, fingers tangling with desperate need in your hair. Your half lided eyes find his, pupils blown in a sea of darkness as your teeth bite into his bottom lip, slowly pulling before letting go and once again molding into each other.

Your hands move down his back, gripping at his clothes, pulling the shirt out of his pants to make way for desperate hands to find his skin, to get some relief on the contact. Stumbling backwards he guides you to the same chair he had been sitting on seconds ago, his hands moving over your arms, pulling you to him once he sits, your legs on either side of him, the night gown you wore riding up, leaving on its wake a tempting valley of skin begging to be touched. Obliging his hands settle over the soft skin of your thighs, his fingers digging harshly, making sure you are real and not some sculpture made so perfectly he wouldn’t be able to distinguish it from reality. They trail up, a sigh escaping your lips as they hike the clothes higher, the edge of his nails scraping softly against your skin until they reach their destination and settle over the soft flesh of your butt cheeks, pulling you to him as his lips move over your jaw, biting softly on the curve of your neck.

There is really not time to enjoy each other, there is no time for soft caresses and sloppy kisses; but the hunger with which Eobard kisses you is more than enough to make up for it, to feel how desperate he is, how needing of you he is turns you on more than anything you have ever experience. He is dangerous, chaotic and so methodical is terrifying, yet here he is, falling apart in between your arms, holding onto your skin for dear life as your hands remove every bit of clothes he is wearing. Your eyes trail over his shoulders, more defined than what you could have imagine, prominent arms that engulf you as your hands find his face, holding him in place while you kiss him, lifting yourself up and lining with him before sinking down, sighs and moans escaping you, it’s an oddly familiar feeling of belonging , of knowing one another as if you had been together before, souls connecting once again in another life, aligning ever time you had found each other again.

The bussing of his skin against yours is a pleasing surprise, his hand trailing down, feeling the droplets of sweat collecting in your abdomen before he moves it down until it reaches its destination, settling a pace, his vibrating fingers working on you, bringing you closer and closer, his eyes take in every detail of your face, every crease of your eyebrows and the way your mouth parts as an orgasm washes over you, his following soon after, making him react faster than he thought he would as he speeds you both to a different position, allowing him to pull out of you before his release. A comfortable silence falls over you both, his body next to yours, his head rested on your back while you both lay on the sofa, your eyes train on the fireplace, his grip on you tightens when he feels you moving, and that’s the cue you need to know he wants you to stay, he wants to hold you, to have this moment of contact he has denied himself for so long, his eyes closing momentarily, giving himself a second to enjoy it that lasted a hundred years.

@mintchipcupcake

@tacowells101

@steamjunk90

@twilightlover2007

@austarus

@harrisonwellsisdaddy

@wintersire

@reallystressedhoneybee

@fanfiction-and-fantasies

@saltykidcreation

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@yetanotherwells

@tammy-baker

@thecupcakevigilante

[arcanadreams]

Hi If it’s not a bother could you write a hc for the new dateables as hozier songs?? Loved the one you wrote for the brothers

(´∀｀)♡ I'm so very happy to hear you liked those. Sure thing, anon!! I'd love to do the dateables!! Fair warning though that I've never written anything for them before soooo let's hope this goes well LMAO

Diavolo - From Eden

Diavolo is far more tragic a figure than anyone in the Devildom knows. The second his mother died giving birth to him, his innocence died screaming while his father held his small body in his arms. All he knew from that point was harshness from the king, who wanted a son that would grow to a strong ruler. He never knew the joys of childish idealism, of discovering his own passions. He was too busy sitting on his father's throne.

But then you came along and yanked him right off the pedestal his father had erected. He expected a rough landing, but instead it was smooth. Your arms were waiting.

When Diavolo looks at you, he sees something familiar, like his mirror years ago, reflecting back a part of himself he thought his father had defeated. His mischievous streak had definitely returned after his father fell into slumber, after all the exchange program is something his father would never have agreed to. But he still didn't quite feel like all of himself was within reach until you were at his side.

Sometimes he, the future king of the Devildom, looks at you and wonders what he did to deserve you. He is a beast that slithered from the depths of Hell, what right does he have to be at your side? At the side of someone who carries such a light with them wherever they go? At the side of someone who makes him feel that maybe his birthright isn't a curse...not if you're there to carry the burden with him.

The lyrics I think resonate with him the most:

Honey, you're familiar like my mirror years ago Idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on its sword Innocence died screaming, honey, ask me I should know I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door Babe, there's something wretched about this Something so precious about this Where to begin Babe, there's something broken about this But I might be hoping about this. Oh, what a sin

Barbatos - Wasteland, Baby!

In his visions, Barbatos has seen just about everything yet to come, seen a fire ending the world, the death of the sun, and yet he still did not anticipate the impact you would have on him. He couldn't have, he believes in retrospect. Not when the first smile you directed at him looked so much better than it had when he foresaw it previously.

After that smile, for the first time in his life, Barbatos did not want to see the future. He did not want to see the outcome to your story. He didn't want to have to witness your shattered body bleeding out onto the cobblestone streets of the Devildom, is what he told himself. But, in truth, he did not want to see you falling in love with someone else. And, even more than that, he did not want to see himself falling in love with you. Because then he would have to admit it. Have to admit that he was already in love with you.

Inevitably, he gave in to his curiosity and looked. He already had a feeling before it was confirmed, but it still made him smile bitterly to know; in every timeline you met, he would inevitably fall for you. But you wouldn't always fall for him, and that was okay. He just hoped you would in this one.

The lyrics I think resonate with him the most:

All the things yet to come are the things that have passed Like the holding of hands, like the breaking of glass Like the bonfire that burns That all words in the fight fell to Wasteland, baby I'm in love, I'm in love with you And I love too, that love soon might end Be known in its aching Shown in the shaking Lately of my wasteland, baby Be still, my indelible friend, you are unbreaking Though quaking, though crazy That's just wasteland, baby And that day that we'll watch the death of the sun To the cloud and the cold and those jeans you have on And you'll gaze unafraid as they sob from the city roofs Wasteland, baby I'm in love, I'm in love with you

Simeon - Talk

Loving someone isn't a sin. No, loving someone isn't a sin. It never has been. But, Simeon is fairly sure that wanting someone the way he wants you is one. Wanting someone as unceasingly, as irrevocably, as he wants you, must be one.

Simeon is an angel; he is supposed to be the embodiment of immediate forgiveness, of hope, of purity...and yet he finds himself breaking all his rules when it comes to you. He cannot forgive Belphegor for almost taking you from him. He came to the Devildom hoping to help the exchange program go smoothly, but now all he can focus on is his dreadful need for you. And he may talk refined, but there is no purity in the way he imagines you.

You once told him that true love was a lost myth to humans; a fairy tale. But he knows it isn't when he looks at you. His every glance, every brush of the fingertips, every kiss to your eyelids is his attempt to show you that. He knows what you have is true love. The human world myths all had to have a basis somewhere; he doesn't mind being relegated to a fairy tale if it means he gets to have you.

The lyrics I think resonate with him the most:

I'd be the dreadful need in the devotee That made him turn around Hey yeah And I'd be the immediate forgiveness In Eurydice Imagine being loved by me I won't deny I've got in my mind now All the things I would do So I try to talk refined For fear that you find out How I'm imagining you I'd be the last shred of truth In the lost myth of true love

Solomon - Work Song

It took a long time for Solomon to begin to fall for you. You were both off having your own adventures in the Devildom, after all. But it seems after you wrangled all the brothers in that you managed to ensnare him as well, and now he understands just why they all adore you.

He used to worry that you wouldn't, couldn't, want him. He was an immortal sorcerer; he'd given up his humanity a long time ago. Wasn't that disgusting to other humans? Wouldn't that disgust you? But he learned very quickly that you would never fret none about what his hands and his body had done before you met. You never once asked him about the wrong he had done in him life previously. Not unless he deigned to tell you on a dark night of his regrets. Even when he admitted atrocities to you, you kissed him so soft and sweet.

Solomon knows now that even the grave will not separate you from each other. You may not be immortal, but he is; no grave could hold his body. No grave could keep him from you. And, should you allow it, he intends to give you the option to stay with him endlessly.

[universallychaoticpan]

God I hate you for this

dazai x reader

just Dazai reminiscing over how your love came to be

Warnings: Dazai being Dazai, so there's that.

Sometimes Dazai wished he could go back to a time before he every knew you. It was easier then, he wouldn't lie. Even when he'd been a part of the Port Mafia, even though he'd spent most of his life in danger, it had been far less complicated than now. Sure, he'd been lonely and desperate for any kind of human connection, but he also didn't have to fear he'd hurt someone. And now, there was you. You, who he'd never deserve in a million years, in a thousand lifetimes. You, who despite knowing his past and knowing full well what he was capable of, still told him you loved him and stayed by his side every day without fail.

He'd never known a love like the one he shared with you, and it would've been so easy for you to toy with him, to play with his heart and leave him a mess, but you didn't. Together, you made the choice to keep fighting for a future together, to protect the love between you. And to think it had all started, as most of his romantic prospects did, with an invitation to join him in a double suicide. He hated that he loved you, and he loved you more than anything.

//////

"Dazai, you idiot, stop fawning over that woman over there and pay attention!!! We need to get these reports filed before the end of the day so snap out of it!"

As always, Dazai was tuning out his perpetually annyoed partner, opting to keep observing you instead. You sipped your coffee quietly, eyes trained on the book before you, reaching up to brush your hair from your eyes. Looking up, you jumped a little as you met his dark eyes, Dazai's heart rate getting just a little faster as you smiled at him sweetly.

Yeah, he was done for.

/////

From there, Dazai had been living in a world painted rose and gold, everything growing brighter once he knew you. The colors of the world seemed more vivid, the spring breezes across the bay seemed sweeter somehow, and life suddenly didn't seem so tedious anymore. He had something he really felt he was living for, and that was the person he had the absolute honor of coming home to every day. He was convinced you were an angel, sent from the heavens to show a broken man what it was to be loved. And whenever he told you so, you'd always respond the same way:

"I'm not an angel. I'm just someone lucky enough to be in love."

////

Just another short and sweet piece for you all, I hope you enjoyed it! If you did, please feel free to check my other works and remember that requests and asks are always welcome! <3

[animeyanderelover]

Hello again! Can I have prompt 46 with Ash? Tnx

Recently I told my friend that I had a lot of requests about him and she laughed about it. She doesn't really like him, but she gives him credit since he looks good.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessiveness, obsessiveness, delusions, extreme paranoia, isolation, desperation, mentions of kidnapping,overprotectiveness, mentions of self-harm, Stockholm syndrome

Prompt 46: "Can I...can I kiss you?"

It was nothing less than a miracle that someone like you existed, someone who was cleansed from all the sins of this world and the corruption of humans. You were radiating with everything Ash had wanted for this world, a world that he wanted to give to you. It was the minimum from what she should and would do for you, it was his duty as your very own guardian angel. A role he was utterly dedicated too, devoted to his very own angel who forgave him his sins every time.

It was true, you had forgiven him his crimes already a long time ago as everything around you had started to fade away and you had lost count of how long exactly you had been stuck in here. Somewhere around one and a half years would be your expectation, looking on how the seasons had changed through the large and closed windows which symbolized your loss of freedom. But you didn't mind anymore.

You only needed and wanted Ash, your guardian angel.

There was clear tension in his body, you could feel how he stiffened up under your embrace. He had never really received that sort of affection before from anyone nor would he have ever wanted it from all those worthless lives walking around freely. You were the only person he actually wanted any sort of touches from. That was how pure you were, even causing someone like him craving something and falling victim to his own desires. And it was his own fault for being so weak-minded. He didn't deserve you yet letting you perish outside would be an even greater sin. He had to keep you safe.

"My Queen...what are you doing?"

Being able to keep his composure was important in front of you, though he remembered to have failed multiple times in the past already. Severe punishment was the only thing he could think of to atone for his failures for not being good enough, for proving himself to be so incredibly useless. Even now he could feel some unhealed wounds aching a bit, but you didn't have to know about his weakness and incompetence.

You blinked slightly confused up at him when he asked you such an obvious question, but it soon turned into slight giggling that instantly plunged Ash's heart into painfully warm emotions and forced his eyes to get wet. It had taken a while until you had been able to look so happy after he had quickly rescued you from all the evil waiting to devour you. The distress he had felt back then could never be put in words and no burns, knifes and broken bones had been able to make up for what you had been suffering under. Even now it remained as a anxiety deeply stuck in his heart. But looking at you now, smiling at him and not staring with wide eyes filled with fear at him, was worth much more than his whole life could ever repay you.

"I’m hugging you. It’s just that you always look so worried and stressed over my safety and never appear to take a rest. Just now you did as well so I thought this might help you a bit. A strong hug can be more worth than thousand words after all. That’s what my mother told me at least when I was younger.��, you replied softly, pressing your face deeper into his chest with a content look on your face.

There was nothing Ash could think of for a few moments, instead he seared the scene in front of him deep into his brain, how you were currently buried into his chest, looking so happy and peaceful. So stunning and precious.

Tears were quick to escape his eyes only seconds later, his insides stirring up with warmth that stung him and yet baked him with something he hadn’t felt in so long. Comfort and peace.

This was exactly why he had to protect you with his very own life, no one was allowed to snuff out the light you carried inside of you and that was able to even share it’s warmth with him. You possessed too much kindness to understand, but normal humans only destroyed what they touched, ruining it with their greed.

He wouldn’t let them do the same to you.

He would kill everyone who would even do as much as getting too close.

He just had to guarantee that you would live.

But first of all he had to calm himself down or otherwise he might worry you even more than he seemed to have done already. The tears were quickly wiped away with his sleeves before Ash was able to look at you again, still feeling like he wanted to continue crying. His heart felt like it might burst at any moment.

“You have so much warmth and love inside of you that I don’t think I deserve any of it. You shouldn’t even be concerned about me, I merely do what I have to do as your guardian. If you were to fall victim to this damned place, I would perish as well. What use is an angel who can’t even protect their chosen one?”

Pain was twisting his voice and face a bit when he dared to imagine how a world without you would be, a world filled with grief and darkness for him. Letting his guard down would be a fatal mistake, he had seen the worst of this world and the humans and he knew that it would happen again. That was why he had to be like this for you were his heart beating outside his chest. If something were to ever happen to you...

The angel hadn't even noticed that he had already started crying again, fist tightened and body shaking whilst getting lost in fears of losing the one good and bright thing this world had still left.

"But for me you're more than just a guardian angel. You're my angel and I want you to feel happy as well. I want you to feel loved as well. You do so much for me, but I feel like I only cause you stress and uneasiness. Shouldn't you be happy because of me?", you asked him in slight protest, feeling sadness whilst seeing the man you had come to love like this again because of you. You had never seen him truly relaxed nor had you ever been able to show him your feelings. He wouldn't let you, not thinking that he deserved you.

His reaction was instant, suddenly falling on his knees upon hearing from what you had said that he had disappointed you yet again, the visible look of your sorrow only stabbing his fear deeper into his very soul.

"I-I am so sorry! I didn't know that you felt this way only because I was so selfish to only think about myself like this! I don't deserve your forgiveness and accept any sort of-"

When he felt the soft sensation of your hands cupping his stained cheeks, he abruptly stopped his rambling, trying to not choke on his own breath that had gotten irregular.

"You don't have to apologize to me. I don't want to hear you saying such things about yourself. Don't you understand? I am unhappy whenever you are like this, seeing yourself as so worthless and not deserving of my love. That's what hurts me so much. You're rejecting my feelings. I love you, Ash. And I want to know if you do too. Because if you do, please stop talking like this and behave so distantly."

Your voice conveyed every bit emotion that was going on inside of you in that moment, something that Ash noticed with widened eyes as well.

Silence was cut short by him when he realized that you wanted something crucial from him which he would gladly give you. He had never considered that you would ever consider his love as something you wanted, consider him as someone you loved. When had been the last time someone had been truly kind to him and loved him? He couldn't remember anymore.

"Of course I do. You should never doubt my feelings for you. I love you more than you could ever imagine. It's impossible to function without you.", he managed to reply with a shaking voice as he grabbed both of your hands in his own.

"Then why are you acting like this? Everyone deserves someone who loves them. Without love it's a very painful life, isn't it? That's why I am hurting as well. Let me love you and I promise that you'll be able to feel peace as well.", you muttered slightly embarrassed out, leaning your head down so your forehead could rest against his own.

Slight sobs were starting to catch up to Ash as he was staring in pure awe at you.

"Thank you. I'll be better and make sure that I won't cause you sadness anymore.", he pressed out, tightening his grip on your hands only the slightest bit so he wouldn't hurt you.

"I'm glad to hear that.", you replied with a sincere smile on your face, joy stirring your heart up just by seeing that for the first time since he had abducted you, Ash was looking relieved and less tense. He just looked extremely grateful.

"May I ask you for a favor then?", you requested with a certain idea in mind.

"I'll do anything for you.", Ash replied, sounding very emotional.

"I want to do something for you for once since you normally do anything for me."

Hesitation and clear dislike instantly shadowed his face, the thought of him asking something from you going against Ash's belief in all the wrong ways. You shouldn't have to do him favors.

"It doesn't have to be something difficult. It can be a really simple thing. Just...something that I can do for you this once. Please.", you begged slightly, seeing the angel already struggling. You knew how he felt about such things, he hated letting you do something for him and he had never done it before either. Ash saw it only upon himself to serve you which was another thing that sometimes made you feel guilty. You wanted to do more for him as well.

"Can I...can I kiss you?"

Maybe that had been more a slip of his tongue, but he had been slightly panicking since hadn't want to sadden you again nor had he wanted you to do physical work for him. It was supposed to be the other way around.

So when he had stared for a moment at your face, eyes locked on your lips, he had considered somewhere deep in his mind possibilities which he had been fantasizing about a few times before, but hadn't thought that they would actually have a change of happening.

In his opinion they were still sinful, it would take a while for him to get used to the idea that you wanted to receive physical affection and love from him. The first impulse when he realized what he had said was instantly apologizing, only to be interrupted before he could even start saying anything.

You had already leaned down to fulfill him his wish before he could take it back again.