#and the other is 10 minutes away but really expensive

[tabslabs]

Hhhh the problem with having good ramen is it makes you want to eat more good ramen… I’m remembering the weekly ramen runs from my college days. I wish Ichiran wasn’t so expensive it’s so fucking good

[smute]

im seeing a lot of posts about seasonal depression recommending vitamin d supplements and thats great and all but...

1. it's normal to feel a little gloomy in the winter. unless it affects your daily life, you dont have seasonal depression, you have the winter blues. if it does affect your daily life, please see a doctor. seasonal depression/SAD/MDD with seasonal pattern can be treated very effectively with antidepressants or light therapy (see below)

2. while there is a link between depression (particularly postpartum) and vitamin d deficiency, the effectiveness of vitamin d supplements as a treatment has not been conclusively proven.

3. even if you do suffer from seasonal depression, there's a good chance that your vitamin d levels are fine. if you regularly spend a decent amount of time outdoors during the summer months (mar-oct) when there is enough natural ultraviolet light available in latitudes like europe and north america for your body to synthesize its own vitamin d, you probably have enough stored in your fat cells to make it through the darker half of the year. if you live south of the 35th parallel you're making vitamin d year round.

supplements can't hurt (technically, excess levels of vitamin d can be toxic, but even with supplements you're unlikely to poison yourself) but, once again, my point is: even if you have a vitamin d deficiency, it's not necessarily connected to your seasonal depression, and even if there is a connection, it's not necessarily causal.

something super straightforward that is actually proven to work is light therapy, especially when its done early in the morning. it tackles a root cause (lack of daylight) and can help balance your circadian rhythm and your melatonin/serotonin production. it doesn't require a prescription (it's a lamp), you don't have to see a doctor in order to try it (it's a lamp), it's non-invasive (it's a lamp) and accessible (it's a lamp), and it has very few side effects (mostly stuff like eye strain or headaches since, again, it's a lamp). this is my second winter with a light therapy lamp and i have noticed a significant improvement not just in my overall mood but especially in my alertness and energy levels. so yeah. just putting that out there

[intimidating-fettuccine]

Silly creep things to try and cheer you up a little bit

LJ will juggle various items at random times, and he often does so quietly, waiting until people notice. They'll be eating breakfast and Jack is just at the end of the table juggling various fruits quietly and intensely, waiting for everyone to notice. It's become such a regular activity that they don't even question it anymore, but those who notice first often have a hard time controlling their laughter. Slender has put limitations on his juggling after he caught Jack juggling several of his very expensive vases one day, although none of the vases were damaged.

Toby is committed to trying to lick the tip of his nose and his elbow with his tongue, but he has so far been unsuccessful. That is also a common thing to see in the mansion, Toby sitting by himself, eyes in full concentration, working overtime to try and succeed in either licking the tip of his nose or his elbow. Tim always ends up having to tell him to stop because he's worried Toby's gonna somehow strain himself, especially when he starts trying to contort his arm to get his elbow closer.

BEN has started being an absolute nuisance to Jeff whenever Jeff is annoying him or picking on him, and Jeff is finally starting to learn his lesson. Jeff with say something to pick on BEN, and BEN will retort back with something worse and then take off running. Jeff, of course, will chase after him, but what BEN has started doing is last minute shifting into his ghost form and slamming a door through his body so Jeff runs face first into the door. BEN has pulled this off a whopping 10 times, and Jeff is now finally realizing that maybe he should not chase after BEN like that. There are various recordings of this happening floating amongst the residents, much to Jeff's chagrin.

Slender is in full baking mode, as he is every fall, and this year he has kicked it up a notch to a point where everyone is getting a little concerned. He uses baking as stress relief, and as he's been particularly stressed lately, he has made, in the last couple of weeks, seven pies, five cakes, and four trays of cupcakes. Despite how many people are in the mansion, Slender makes quite large desserts to combat that so normally everyone can have some, but he's made such a ridiculous amount that they're having a hard time eating through it. They can't get him to stop. He's trying new holiday recipes. He's in the kitchen right now. He's whisking away. He's going to fill the house with desserts and nothing can stop him.

Liu has very recently gotten very into board games, all thanks to BEN for showing him a couple he thought Liu would like. This is good because it's a nice group hobby, and he can teach everyone all of the games and it's a good way to spend time together. The problem is that he's so into them that he wants to play board games all the time. He keeps buying new ones and upon getting home will immediately follow people around politely asking (begging) them to play with him. He will leave the board games out and set them up as a silent sign of trying to get people to ask him if they can play. He can't stop pouting at everyone when nobody wants to play. Jeff is forced into playing the board games the most because he's his brother, and so now Jeff is trying to constantly drag people into it. They enjoy playing the games with Liu, they really do. They just also like being able to sleep and do other things. Liu can't relate. Everyone silently blames BEN for creating this monster but BEN doesn't care and is happy to have someone else around interested in board games.

[avaf00rd]

Fridge

Little shits pt 2

Kyra Cooney cross x teen!reader (platonic)

actually finished this shockingly quick. (Not proof read). Submitting it now and going to sleep. So it’s bad.

I had a Leah fic that was pretty good but then half didn’t save in the draft. And rewriting is the worst. I’ll try to get back into it tomorrow if I can promise.

Enjoy bbys

——————————————-

“shit.” Kyra blankly said as she made a huge dent in the mcfoord new fridge. Don’t ask how.

“How the fuck did you manage that!” You exclaimed checking out the massive mark left right in the middle of the fridge.

You and Kyra had been in Baylor against Katie and Caitlin for a few weeks now. It was hilarious to all of you. You were also all getting great content for the Arsenal new YouTube channel where different players would do vlogs of game days and other activities.

“Ok everyone Kyra just broke the fridge” you sighed running your palm over your forehead looking back into the camera

“It’s not definitely broken. We can just undo it” she said. You grabbed the camera to point it towards her raising one eyebrow.

“It’s as big as a bowling ball” you said. Kyra turned to you and the camera with a blank expression.

“I say we grab the toilet plunger.” Before quickly getting up to find it.

“If I were Katie I would rather have massive dent on my fridge then have the fridge smell like my own shit.” You sighed as u sat down on the stool. You two were truly truly fucked this time. Some of your pranks included putting pictures of drunk Caitlin all around every second cubby at the training grounds. This round it was slightly lighter by super gluing the lids to their foods in the fridge. Lame right? Kyra somehow managed to pick up a random pot and accidentally charge it straight into the fridge. You forgot about the camera as you were lost in thought thinking about how badly you fucked up this time. Brand new fridge for their brand new place. It was over.

“Ok no plunge but I did some googling. We just need an ice cube” you guys were the definition of blind leading the blind. So of course you grabbed an ice cube and placed it on the large dent 10 times its size. “Is it working” Kyra asked holding the camera towards you and the ice cube. You slowly turned your head around to face her wiht a blank expression reading no you fucking idiot.

A knock on the door made you both share a look of panic. “The pantry” Kyra pointed intending that you just run away from this problem.

“No dumb ass” you said before getting up and walking to the door. You were nearly 100% it wasn’t Caitlin and Katie as you walked the hallway before twisting the handle.

“Hey tiny” Leah said in surprise to find you here.

“Hey Leah”

“What on earth are you doing here” she questioned

“We need your help” you said hopefully. Kyra peaking around the corner to be seen with a sad smile and a nod. Leah slightly chuckled before following you down the hall. Where you stood from afar with Kyra pointing to the fridge. Leah just bursted out laughing.

“Shit you did this” she chuckled checking it out.

“Yes what do we do!” You slightly yelled. Kyra still in shock from what happened.

“Don’t worry about it. They might be mad but Katie was telling me a new fridge and oven was arriving so it doesn’t really matter-“

“This is the new fridge!” Kyra exclaimed

Leah jaw slightly fell “you’ve truly done it again children”

“Leah please answer. What do we do?” You asked desperate for help.

“We wait until they get home” she said softly before filling up a cup of water for herself and sitting at the dining room table on her phone.

You waited around 20 minutes doing nothing. Kyra on her phone, probably researching how to fix it. And you now just sitting next to Leah looking out the window. It might not seem like a big deal. But a brand new expensive fridge, with a possible non-fixable problem was defiantly a big deal to your young minds. You just had a plan in your mind. Offer to pay to fix it. If you can’t fix it. You and Kyra will go halves on a replacement. Kyra tried to rebuttal when you brought up that plan, but quickly shut up when she realised it was the only option.

This was amusing to Leah. The panic in your faces made her laugh. The whole team was just waiting for something to go terribly wrong.

“Let me get this straight you were trying to superglue all of their food? Aha! That’s good” Leah exclaimed with a goofiness in her voice. You and Kyra just sat their blankly. Kyra soon chuckling at the thought of how this whole situation is kind of funny.

A rattle of keys on the front door made your heart completely stop. “Oh hey Leah. And girls. Oh shit what did you do” Caitlin asked with a smirk on her face kind of ready to see the next prank. Just so she could then plot her next one.

“Ok ok so” you put your hands on both their chests before they could walk much further. “We were doing a light hearted prank right. Then we made a mistake. Dear Kyra here-“

“-we both made a mistake ok! We are very very sorry and we will pay for this.” Kyra said. You both stood in front of the three older girls with your hands behind your backs. Apologising like a five year old who just stole lollies.

“Huh” Katie said confused towards the girls, while Caitlin walked into the kitchen to put her bags down.

“Kyra Cooney cross!” There was a yell across the flat. A somewhat fuming Caitlin voice coming from the source. Katie quickly following to see.

“It wasn’t just me!” Kyra quickly defended in panic.

“You did this!” You said to Kyra . Then looking at the two other girls

“I’m gonna head” Leah waved before leaving behind all of you.

“I’ll pay to get it fixed. Even though I didn’t do it” you said to them. Mumbling the last part, targeted towards Kyra.

“Bet your ass you guys will” Katie said

“This is new” Caitlin said looking at the fridge

“That we both know. And we are very very very very sorry a million times” Kyra said pointing between the two of you. You just nodded next to her.

“Sleep with one eye open. Next one will be serious” Katie said smirking. Plotting her next prank.

“You two can go” Caitlin waved you and the 21 year old off. Kyra nodded quickly zooming down the halls.

“Send me your bank details!” You said before walking out. Forgetting the camera on the bench. You went to grab it before heading out again.

“Bye gooners!” You said. Before turning the camera to Kyra who was waiting for the elevator next to you. Who turned around and poking her tongue out.

[bigification]

Corporate

John had coasted through his twenties like he thought everyone did. He got a quick degree in business and spent the next ten years traveling, partying, and fucking... A lot. His parents let him do whatever he wanted as long as he got a degree, they didn't say anything about using the degree.

He excused his behavior because every other rich white guy he partied with was doing the same thing. He had never even had an extended conversation with someone outside of the 1 percent, and it showed.

Hey, I mean at least he was really good at the one thing he did. To the point that he wouldn't remember most nights, only waking up with women's clothes in his bed. He would start swinging his massive dick around as soon as he got drunk and it wouldn't take long for someone to drag him to bed.

But it couldn't last forever. 30 came faster than he thought and it hit him like a truck. He couldn't drink like he used to, he couldn't party as hard as wanted to. His hairline was starting to recede and his six pack was disappearing under what would soon be a small beer belly. There were starting to be consequences for his actions. And as if it couldn't get any worse for poor John, his parents let him know what his birthday present was for this year. Every year prior had been something extravagant like a yacht or a sports car, so he was really looking forward to the big gift to make 30 not seem so bad.

Two weeks before his birthday, John received a text saying that his parents would take away his generous allowance if he didn't get a job by the time he was 30. His heart skipped a beat, he thought it was some big joke. He thought back to the times his parents had asked him to get a job before but he never thought they were serious. Though they did ask a lot now that he's thinking of it, and they didn't sound like they were joking.

John texted back, "haha, but seriously what is it?" Hoping they would back off and he could go back to being the old guy at all the yacht parties he threw. But they put their put down this time, threatening his 200k a month allowance and his present he was expecting for his birthday.

One week of the adult equivalent of kicking and screaming later, John gives in. Now he only has one week before it starts to cut into his allowance. He scrambled to make a shitty resume, assuming a business degree would get him any job he wanted.

He nervously clicked on a link his dad sent him to a company that works under his father's business. He submitted his resume and waited. It didn't take long for him to get a response and John patted himself on the back for making such a good resume. Although they obviously never even opened the resume, just going off of his father's recommendation.

He set up an interview for just before his birthday, and continued to party like he was still 20. He woke up the day of the interview, hungover and still wearing his disgusting clothes from the night before. He was nearly falling asleep at the wheel as he hadn't woken up before noon in ages, 10 am was such a ridiculous time to set an interview.

He stumbled into the expensive looking building and stood in front of reception.

"How can I help you?" The young lady behind the counter asked.

"Ugh... Yeah I could think of a few ways you could help me." John winked and gave a lazy smile.

"Sir, if you don't have any business here, I'm gonna have to ask you to leave." The lady raised her voice, trying to hide her discomfort.

"Whatever, I'm here for an interview."

"What's your name?"

"John Fitzgerald."

The lady looked up for a moment, recognizing the name. She shook her head in disappointment as she grabbed the phone to call that he had arrived... only thirty minutes late.

A few moments later, an older man in a tailored suit approached the front desk. He walked right past John and asked the receptionist to point him in the direction of John. The lady looked over at John and raised her eyebrows to suggest he was right there. The older man turned and put on a fake smile to hide his disapproval.

"Follow me." The man put on a cheap up beat voice.

The man walked him down to a private office and opened a closet. He grabbed a dress shirt and black dress pants and basically shoved into John's chest.

"No man that respects himself wears those clothes to an interview, put these on." He let his anger slip through a bit.

"Wait really!?" John seemed perplexed. He thought he would answer a few questions about what he liked to do and that would be it.

"Yes, go on."

John sheepishly took off his shirt, revealing the small belly that had grown over his abs. It even bounced a bit as he pulled off his shirt. He then pulled down his pants to reveal his batman boxers that did nothing hide the massive bulge between his legs.

He slipped on the dress shirt, letting it spill to his knees like a dress. Then he pulled up the dress pants and held them at his waist. They were nearly 10 inches too long around the waist, and 5 inches too short, making them ride up his calves.

"They're too big!" John complained.

The man scoffed and grabbed a belt from the closet. Though the belt was also too big, leaving John still holding up the pants.

"They're still too big!" John whined.

"Oh just shut up. How long is this supposed to take." The old man looked impatiently at his watch.

"How long is wha-" John began to ask before pausing briefly, followed by a loud burp that seemed to make the room tremble.

John tried to talk but couldn't. He felt slow and groggy, more than he had before. The only noises he could muster were grunts as a warm feeling filled his stomach. Suddenly his hips thrusted forward and he let out a grunt. John looked down in horror as a sizable beer belly was now hiding under his oversized shirt. His hips thrusted again and his belly had doubled in size, making him look pregnant. One more thrust and a loud grunt and his fat gut doubled in size once more. It bounced up and down as it filled all the room in his massive shirt, finally drooping over his waistband.

John wanted to scream, but he couldn't. The only noises that came from his mouth were moans and grunts that sounded more and more sexual the more his body changed.

His sides soon followed, growing thick love handles that widened his once skinny frame, even spreading to his lower back. His chest puffed forward as his pecs disappeared under a thick layer of fat. His soft man tits finally rested on his gut, pushing up against his shirt and making them impossible to miss.

John looked up in desperation at the older man that stood before him, but he was just staring at his watch. Though he noticed something strange. He was looking up at the man, when he could have sworn that he looked down on him when he first met him. He took pride in his height, so he would have remembered being shorter than him.

This time his body thrusted backwards, making him nearly fall with his new center of gravity. With each thrust he felt the pants get tighter and tighter until his cheeks filled out all of the room in those size 42 pants. At least he didn't have to hold them up anymore. His thighs then thickened into fat tree trunks, permanently rubbing together and squishing his dick in between. Though that last part wouldn't last long, while his ever growing fat pad swallowed inches of his dick, it began to shrink as well. He felt it recede into his soft fat pad, now only having the tip peaking out of his fat. He stuffed his hand between his meaty thighs to try and find it but it wasn't there.

John then felt pressure building up around his feet until a loud POP rang through the office. He looked down to see what happened but it was blocked by his massive gut. Though the feeling of his bare feet on the ground suggested that his feet burst out of his shoes.

His arms began to twitch fat filled them like sausages, making them drop under their own weight. His hands also doubled in size as his fingers started to look thickened. He wanted to react, but it was starting to get hard to remember what he was texting to. All he could think about was finance.

Finally his face began to change. His young and spy look got covered in soft fat and wrinkles, aging him up at least 10 years. His hairline receded as thick sideburns covered his nonexistent jawline and his stubble formed a prominent mustache and goatee combo.

John let out a loud burp as his stomach grumbled. He grunted a few more times as he desperately tried to reach his crotch, but he was unsuccessful. He noticed his boss in front of him and tilted his head back to make eye contact with the man that is now much taller than him.

"What are we doing in your office boss?" John asked.

"Oh, you just had a wardrobe malfunction that's all." The boss said as he passed John a pair of shoes and a tie. "It's on the house since you've been such a good employee the last 10 years. I certainly don't mind getting you bigger clothes when you outgrow your current ones."

John panted and grunted trying to get his shoes on, he wasn't used to the extra padding all over his body. Despite that, he knows that he has been quite fat for many years now as memories of the last 10 years of his life flood in.

"Can't forget the wedding ring." The boss said as he slipped a nice ring into John's hand. "I just love that husband of yours, he is such a great cook. No wonder you gained so much weight after your marriage. It's almost like he got you pregnant." The boss chuckled.

John's face went blank as the memories of him coming out in his thirties and marrying the man that he loves. And he remembers the positive pregnancy test he had just before his 40th birthday.

"Oh my god, you are pregnant!" The boss shouted then covered his mouth. "Your secret's safe with me. Oh and also, I'll order some massive clothes for ya so you won't have to worry about it big guy." The boss said quietly as John left his office.

[kurikive]

MINECRAFT — 10. d-day

Y/N went out fast the night before. Her reasoning for the whole melatonin thing being her insomnia. She feared if she slept too late she wouldn’t wake up early the next day, but given she borderline overdosed on sleeping gummies, she would have not woken up at all if it weren’t for her friends.

NewJeans’ manager had told her to meet at the PC room at 8 in the morning to discuss some final things and prepare the computers so that they could start the filming at 10.

It was just going to be a casual Minecraft gameplay with the NewJeans girls. They planned to play Build Battle for the first half and Bedwars for the second half. The member with the most wins across both minigames would have to battle a 1v1 in Minecraft Hunger Games with Y/N to win the prize.

Oh, right. The prize. It really wasn’t much more than a box of expensive beef, which surely would trigger the competitive nerve in some of the members. The video was going to be filmed for Y/N's channel, so she wasn’t going to be the one competing for it anyways. And yes, she did buy the meat with her own money, but considering how much she’s getting paid right now and how much she’s going to get paid, it’s really nothing.

7:19. Y/N was already wearing the outfit Hyewon had picked for her, deeply breathing in and out to calm her nerves. Anton and Jiwoo smile as they try to talk her into departing Nervousville and taking the bus to Peaceburg. Also to take the bus to the PC room, because as popular as their friend is, she still uses public transportation. She says it’s better for the environment, and although it is, it still causes her to get recognized from time to time.

“What if I bail?”

“I’ll kill you. No joke. I’m a nepo baby, I can get away with it.” Anton says. Y/N can’t not believe him.

“Okay! Well, see you guys later!”

It’s been twenty minutes since Y/N arrived at the PC room. They chose one she used to go to a lot throughout middle and high school. It looks a lot bigger without people.

Y/N had brought her three best cameras for this and was currently setting them up. She didn’t really know where the NewJeans members were going to sit, but she was setting them up so that the members’ faces could (hypothetically) all be seen.

She didn’t really know when the girls were going to arrive and it was eating at her brain. Every few minutes a rhythm of snaps was heard from the Y/N, a habit to try and calm her nerves. Every other second she pulled on the side of her black jeans, accidentally pulling at the skin of her thighs below the cloth.

One of the staff took note of these little quirks and patterns. A young woman approached her slowly, but Y/N only took notice of her when she spoke, “You don’t need to be nervous!” A comforting smile tugged at the woman’s lips, “The girls are super nice and they’re very excited to work with you.”

Y/N, stunned at her sudden appearance, only bowed with a nervous giggle. “Thank you…” She said lowly.

“I’m Ha Sooyoung. Stylist.” The woman extends her hand towards the younger, who shyly shakes her hand. “How old are you, by the way?”

“Twenty… I'm.” The unwanted fashion of mixing up her words comes back to haunt Y/N in the most unconventional situations. She just hopes it doesn’t happen in front of the members.

Sooyoung smiles at the speed in which the younger’s face flushes a rose color. “You have a really nice face, you know?” The comment throws Y/N off. Not in a bad way, of course. She’s heard endless compliments about her appearance; she’s very aware she’s good looking. But the remark coming from a professional stylist definitely surprises her a bit.

The woman, noticing Y/N’s expression, is quick to retaliate in case of a misunderstanding, “Not in a weird way, I swear!” The older waves her hands as if trying to shake away the other’s concerns (there weren’t any). “I’m much older than you, please. I meant, like, God…”

Y/N picks up on Sooyoung’s frustration and tries to fix the situation, “No! No, I get it. It’s okay, Sooyoung-ssi.” Sooyoung doesn’t know if she’s laughing at the formality or at her own mistake, but it’s funny regardless.

“I meant,” the woman clears her throat, “You have a face that’s great for modeling. Have you ever tried it?”

“Uh, no. I don’t think brands want a YouTuber as a model.” A sheepish laugh leaves Y/N’s lips at her bad joke. Thankfully Sooyoung laughs with her.

“Hey, well, they might after this! Who knows?” Sooyoung takes something out of her bag while the both share giggles, “If you ever want to try it out, I’m a photographer on the side. Could help you out, y’know?”

Y/N’s eyes widen when Sooyoung hands her a business card, phone and e-mail on the bottom, but instead of her name, ‘YVES’ is written on the top in bold letters.

“That’s my personal phone number. Unnie is just fine, by the way.” Y/N receives another one of the older’s charming smiles with a bow and a “Thank you, unnie!” before Sooyoung pats her shoulder and leaves her side at the sound of her name being called.

“Oh! The girls are gonna be here soon. Get prepared.”

And Y/N’s back to pulling at her jeans.

masterlist | next

taglist # @yumtooki @saysirhc @modanisgf @yerimbrit @sixflame438 @miinatozakiii @hotluvlet @mym1na @keiji-jin @wintersgff @wonyoungssi @kimminjiissosjdirbidnsjje @shozeu @nwjnsloona @kaypanaq @pandafuriosa60 @linnnsworld @hwabyul4wheesun

[rainforestakiie]

AdamsApple Month Harvest!

Breeding~

ahhhhhh!

i had so many different ideas for this! i couldn't not pick what i wanted to do! in the end i fell on this idea! it's creepy and i really liked how it came out! please let me know if you like it!

@adamsappleweek

Adam was late. The kind of late that tasted like dread in the back of his throat, the kind that twisted his stomach into knots. He glanced at his watch, and his heart stuttered as he realized that the last train home was slipping away. His footsteps echoed through the quiet, deserted corridors of the office building as he ran, each step ringing like a countdown. Adam’s coworker's warning played in his mind, a whispered caution, “Last train leaves at 11:30 sharp. If you miss it, there’s no other way out of the city." But he’d brushed it off, and now that warning seemed to curl into a cruel smirk at his expense.

Frustrated, Adam cursed his horrible time management. It was as if minutes had slipped through his fingers, stolen by some unseen hand. Twenty minutes ago, it had only been 10:30—or so he thought. He stumbled down the stairs, nearly losing his balance as he hit the last step, his worn-out sneakers slapping against the marble floor. He barely waved to the security guard, who barely glanced back at him. With a sharp intake of breath, Adam launched himself out of the doors into the biting cold.

Winter had hit the city with brutal force, leaving the ground slick with a thin layer of ice, glistening under the flickering streetlights. As Adam skidded around the corner, the frigid air seared his lungs. He knew it was dangerous to run on the ice, but he was desperate. The stakes were rising with each step he took. Just as he reached the train platform, his heart sank—the station was empty, the track silent, the last train nothing but a fading memory in the darkness.

He groaned, raking his hands through his hair, fingers catching in the tangled mess as he paced in growing panic. What was he supposed to do now? He was dead broke, barely surviving on his entry-level salary, clinging to the hope that his first pay check might just cover next month’s rent. Spending a night in a hotel wasn’t an option. The thought of begging the security guard to let him crash at his desk crossed his mind, but even that seemed bleak.

The wind howled around him, and he inhaled deeply, the icy air cutting into his throat, making him cough. The city stretched around him in shadowed silence, a mass of looming, pitch-black buildings that looked like watchful sentries in the gloom. He rubbed his arms against the cold, his skin prickling as he caught sight of his own reflection in the glass, pale and strained, his lips starting to turn blue. With no other options, he turned back toward the office, dragging his feet along the frost-slick pavement.

His sneakers slipped, skidding over the ice, and he flailed, his arms flying out to catch his balance. His hand hit the cold, rough edge of a nearby building, but not before his cheek grazed painfully against the brick. He sucked in a sharp breath, his face stinging, and gingerly pressed his fingers to the scrape.

Maybe he should’ve watched his step more carefully. But then, just as he regained his footing, it happened.

The ground... vanished. One second, there was the familiar cold pavement beneath him, and in the next, he felt a sensation like sinking, like a bottomless darkness swallowing him whole. His vision blurred, a sickening spin that pulled him backward. It was as if the ground itself had split open, sucking him down like a trapdoor opening beneath his feet.

Adam fell, his scream snatched away by the void as he plunged into the darkness.

Adam’s head throbbed as he drifted back into consciousness, each heartbeat a dull, aching drum against his skull. A deep, unsettling fog seemed to settle over his thoughts as he tried to piece together where he was. His fingers brushed over the side of his face, feeling the tender, swollen skin where he must have hit it on his way down.

As his vision sharpened, he was struck by an overwhelming, suffocating sense of color—a relentless, nauseating yellow. Mustard yellow, all around him, pressing in from every side. He blinked, eyes stinging, adjusting to the oppressive brightness. Staring at the walls, he took in the faded, floral pattern etched into the wallpaper, an ugly, dated design that seemed to pulse in the eerie yellow light. The carpet beneath him was wet, squelching under his hand as he shifted, its dampness adding to the discomfort that clawed its way into his skin.

Slowly, he pushed himself to his feet, every muscle aching as he steadied himself in this bizarre, empty room. One of the walls was missing, exposing him to what looked like an endless maze of more rooms just like the one he was in. Each one was a grotesque variation on the same theme: more floral wallpaper, more damp mustard-coloured carpet, more yellow ceiling panels lined with dangling, flickering light bulbs. They hung erratically from above, some buzzing, some eerily silent, casting a pale, sickly glow across the space that seemed to make the shadows tremble.

Adam’s eyes darted to the ceiling, hoping for some hint of the way he’d come, maybe a hole he’d fallen through, anything—but there was nothing. Just an unbroken expanse of yellow, no hint of the world above or any path back. Panic bubbled in his chest as he tried to swallow the dread curling inside him.

“Hello?” His voice cracked, trembling as he called out. “Is...is anyone there?”

The words seemed to fall flat, as if the very air swallowed them up, leaving no echo, no reverberation, nothing but a dead silence pressing against his ears. The stillness was so thick he could almost feel it clinging to him, suffocating him.

Heart pounding, Adam took a few hesitant steps forward, crossing from one yellow-stained room into another. The transition was seamless, only the strange, floral patterns on the walls shifting slightly, like variations on a dream he couldn’t quite wake up from. There were no doors, no windows—just the never-ending labyrinth of oddly shaped rooms with their damp floors and relentless yellow hue.

As he walked, the dampness of the carpet seeped through his shoes, cold and unpleasant. The stale, humid air clung to his skin, making it feel like the walls were breathing with him, the moisture seeping into his bones. His green eyes darted left and right, taking in the unnatural sterility of the space, the endless stretch of faded, dreary yellow that seemed to go on forever. With each step, the lights above him buzzed in a slow, menacing hum, casting his shadow in distorted shapes on the walls.

“Hello?” he tried again, his voice barely more than a whisper now.

The silence responded in kind—nothing. Not a single sound, not even the faintest creak or echo. It was as if he’d been dropped into a place where sound didn’t exist, where he could scream and scream, and still, no one would hear him.

Adam moved through the rooms, his mind a spinning reel of questions and terror as the bizarre maze unfolded around him. Each turn he took led him to more empty spaces, more cold, damp carpet beneath his feet, more walls without any sign of a way out. The rooms seemed to twist and connect at random angles, creating narrow hallways that funnelled him deeper and deeper into this strange mustard-yellow void.

Every fibre of his being screamed to turn back, to find an exit, but each direction was just more of the same—the dizzying, endless monotony of yellow walls and silent lights, draining him of hope with every step.

Adam muttered to himself, his voice barely a whisper against the incessant buzzing hum overhead.

“Feels like the back of a retail outlet... like I’m about to walk into storage and see endless racks of unsorted stock.” The flickering lights above seemed to mock him, casting erratic shadows that made the rooms feel like they were shifting, breathing.

The buzzing was louder than any normal fluorescent hum he’d ever heard, an unyielding drone that drilled into his thoughts. Each bulb sputtered at irregular intervals, casting faint pulses of sickly yellow light across the faded walls. The wet carpet beneath his feet squished unpleasantly as he moved, the smell of mildew thickening in the air with each step. He instinctively avoided touching the strange dampness—it didn’t feel or smell like water, and something about it sent a quiet warning up his spine.

Yet as he continued deeper, oddly, he felt his initial panic start to wane. The quiet emptiness around him held an unexpected calm; it was eerie, yes, but also strangely still, like the endless maze posed no direct threat. A dark realization settled over him: there might be no immediate danger here, no lurking menace—only the creeping terror of isolation. He could survive here for a while, but the silence, the hunger, the solitude—that would be his downfall.

Then he noticed it. In the corner of an otherwise empty room sat a silver suitcase, its metallic sheen a stark contrast to the yellowed walls. Adam’s stomach twisted as he approached, his steps slower, warier. He crouched down, fingers grazing the cold metal as he peered inside.

A single file lay within, aged and smelling faintly of must, as if it had been sitting there, undisturbed, for years. Glancing around once more, he saw no one. He picked up the file, its weight oddly reassuring in his hands, and unclipped the two greyish sheets inside. They appeared official, the type of documents you’d expect from a government office. He squinted at the title at the top: “Level Zero.”

The first page detailed the level, confirming what he’d already felt—a place resembling the back rooms of a retail outlet. He read with increasing unease:

Class One. Safe. Secure. Minimal Entity Count. Level 0 is a non-linear space, resembling the back rooms of a retail outlet. All rooms appear uniform, yet no two are identical. The walls are decorated with yellowish floral wallpaper, the carpet damp, and the flickering lights buzz at a constant frequency. The substance saturating the carpet remains unidentified and is unsafe for consumption.

Adam swallowed, his heart sinking as he absorbed the words. The page explained how this place defied navigation; walking in a straight line could lead you right back to where you started, only with different rooms. Every corner held the potential to deceive him, to disorient him even further. He flipped to the second page, the edges brittle under his fingers.

Hallucinations are common in Level 0:

The hum from the lighting may amplify to deafening levels, only to cease abruptly.

Doors or stairs may appear but will vanish when approached.

A sense of déjà vu, movement in peripheral vision resembling insects crawling under wallpaper, and chittering sounds have all been reported.

A rise in CO₂ levels is noted, though its cause and effect are unknown.

Entities: None are known to exist within Level 0. If you see another person, it is not human.

Adam’s throat went dry. No other people, yet others had been here, too, trapped in this unending maze, all alone. And some had never found a way out. His eyes skimmed to the section marked Entrances and Exits.

Exits Exiting Level 0 is only possible by “noclipping,” which will lead to Level 1. Those unfamiliar with the Backrooms must adapt quickly to the environment to escape. Entrance to the Manila Room is rare but achievable by traveling a significant distance in any direction. Here, wanderers may meet freely; however, the room serves only as a temporary refuge.

Adam’s mind reeled. Noclipping? The Manila Room? The concepts felt surreal, detached from reality, yet here he was, standing in the evidence of their truth. He wasn’t just lost in some abandoned building. He was somewhere else entirely, and the rules he knew were meaningless here.

He set the file back in the suitcase, his gaze lingering on the room around him. The silence now felt heavier, weighted with the knowledge of what lay in wait—only the droning hum and the distorted, flickering lights as his companions. The buzzing had grown louder, pressing into his ears like a warning, almost as if mocking his hope of escape.

Taking a shaky breath, Adam steeled himself and started walking again, the damp carpet squelching beneath his feet. And as he ventured deeper into the endless maze, one thought pulsed in his mind: he had to keep his bearings.

Adam leaned against one of the yellow wallpapered walls, the stale scent of mildew lingering in the thick, stagnant air. His head bumped softly against the wall, the dull thud breaking the silence. He squinted down the corridor, his fingers tapping an uncertain rhythm on the wall beside him. Had he been here before? It felt the same—the same smell, the same dull yellow light, the same suffocating silence. That file he'd read—how long ago? Days? Hours? He had no sense of time here. But it said that Level Zero was alive, aware, watching him.

He exhaled slowly, his breath barely audible in the stale air. Maybe... maybe it was listening too.

"Hi?" His voice felt strange, out of place. There was no echo, no answer, only the hum of the lights overhead. Adam shifted, clearing his throat. "My name is Adam. I guess you could say I'm... a wanderer. Or maybe a prisoner. I don't really like either of those labels, honestly."

Silence. A quiet that swallowed every word he uttered, sinking them into some void. He half-laughed, half-sighed and leaned harder into the wall, the yellow paper crinkling beneath his shoulder.

"Well, I suppose you're not much of a talker." He rubbed the back of his neck and continued, his voice growing more conversational, as if speaking to an old friend. "So, here’s the deal. I'm Adam. Twenty-six. Bit of a nerd, yeah. Still single, if you can believe it. No luck with girls—or guys, for that matter."

 He chuckled softly. "I’m into Star Wars and all that, you know? I like to grow things. Flowers mostly—camellias, carnations, roses... it's peaceful. You’d be surprised how soothing it is. It’s kind of like meditation."

He tapped his fingers against the wall, feeling an odd, half-felt connection in the silence. "I cried like a baby during Titanic, if you’re curious about my softer side—"

Suddenly, the wall behind him vanished, and Adam stumbled back, gasping as he tumbled onto his back, blinking wildly. The yellow wallpapered corridor was gone. Instead, he was in a square room, the faint hum still vibrating in the air. But here, four walls and a wooden door greeted him, the first door he’d seen in this endless maze. The wall he’d fallen through now seemed solid again, as if it had never disappeared.

Shakily, Adam pushed himself to his feet, his eyes scanning the room. A wooden table stood in the centre, flanked by two simple chairs. His gaze fell on the table, where a beige folder lay waiting for him, stamped with a message: "Congratulations. Level Zero has allowed you to enter the Manila Room. You will always be able to find this room now."

"So... talking to you worked?" he whispered, his heart racing. Curiosity sparked in his eyes as he pulled the folder closer and opened it. Inside, he found three faded pages.

The first page held a brief description:

The Manila Room is a small, isolated room within Level zero, often seen as a safe point. Its thick, beige walls enclose wanderers in its protective silence, a rare sanctuary from the shifting nature of Level zero. Though minimal, the furnishings here vary, sometimes consisting only of a table and chair. Despite the isolation, wanderers may find solace in knowing they are not alone—others have left traces, faded memories marked on the worn surface of the table.

Adam glanced around, a small shiver running down his spine as he wondered how many others had sat here, reading these same pages, caught in the same strange in-between. He turned to the second page, marked simply as "Anomalies."

While Level zero exudes a hum that burrows into your senses, the Manila Room is no different. Here, the lighting mirrors that of Level zero, a faint, grating hum that fluctuates, leaving the room in total darkness at times. Knocking and banging sounds from the walls—though the source is unknown—are heard in these dark periods, as if something is just beyond, reaching, waiting.

The words seemed to pulse, drawing his mind to every creak and crack in the walls around him. He could almost feel something watching, something that just... hid. He flipped to the final page, detailing levels beyond this one, their descriptions cold and impersonal.

Level 1 – A sprawling, endless warehouse, safe and stocked with essentials. Next stop, wanderer.

Level 2 – Dark and cramped, a series of maintenance tunnels where heat and danger lurk in the shadows.

Level 3 – The gauntlet, a perilous level of electrical stations and barred hallways where survival is not guaranteed.

Level 4 – Safety and solace. A quiet office realm with supplies and rest for weary travellers.

Level Fun – A trap as deceptive as its name. Party decorations and fatal tricks await in every room. Beware the welcoming arms of the Partygoers.

The End – An endless library, promising exit but delivering a deeper trap. The path is layered with illusions, designed to lure and hold.

Adam exhaled, closing the file, his pulse quickening as he placed it back on the table. A chill ran through him as he sat back in the chair, the eerie quiet pressing in from every corner.

"So..." he murmured, his voice barely a whisper, "Where do we go from here?"

Adam blinked at the document, the sterile, clinical language doing little to reassure him. "Level Fun" was not somewhere he wanted to find himself, despite the deceivingly friendly name, and the notion of "The End" seemed like a final, malicious joke—a labyrinth made to trap him forever. He shuddered at the descriptions of twisting maintenance tunnels, ominous party rooms, and endless electrical stations swarming with entities, all waiting somewhere beyond this strange, quiet sanctuary.

Setting the file down, he looked around at the dim, beige walls of the Manila Room. For the first time since he’d arrived, he was in a room with a door—solid, heavy-looking wood, contrasting sharply with the unnerving yellow surroundings outside. It stood defiantly closed, as if daring him to open it. Every detail, from the humming light to the odd silence broken only by occasional faint, muffled bangs within the walls, kept him on edge. He glanced back at the file, feeling the weight of his situation settle deeper.

“Congratulated for entering a safe room…” he murmured. “Right, well, thanks. Guess I'm really supposed to be grateful for beige walls and a couple of chairs.”

Despite his sarcasm, a flicker of hope had rooted itself in his chest. Somehow, the Manila Room felt like a lifeline—a place where he could catch his breath, even if just for a moment.

A loud, echoing bang sounded from somewhere inside the walls, followed by an eerie silence. He froze, his eyes widening. For a room designated "safe," it didn't exactly make him feel secure. Even the comforting stability of the Manila Room felt oddly vulnerable, like a momentary illusion.

After a long, shallow breath, Adam focused on his choices. Okay, so the file says the door leads out… or to more danger, he thought, biting his lip. He could stay, cocooned here, waiting for something to happen, but a part of him knew that was pointless. Nothing would change, and eventually, he’d just have to leave, searching for Level 1 or any safe exit from this bizarre prison. The instructions had even warned him: adapt quickly.

Summoning his courage, he stood, resting a hand on the cold doorknob. "

If anyone’s listening… here’s hoping Level 1 is better than Level Zero," he whispered to no one in particular, just the invisible walls and the unblinking light above.

Turning the knob slowly, he pushed the door open. The stale air from the Manila Room mingled with a faint, distant scent—one he couldn’t place—seeping in from the other side. The hallway beyond was dimly lit, the yellowish glow of the backrooms casting sinister shadows across the threshold. He took a step, each movement echoing like a footstep into an empty, cavernous world.

Adam gripped the doorknob, fingers twitching with the weight of his own hesitation. He didn’t know where the door would lead—he didn’t know where any door would lead, if he were honest—but still, he felt a pull, like this was the only way forward. With a slow inhale, he took a step, ready to let the room swallow him again.

But then, a voice, smooth as silk and warm as candlelight, drifted from behind him.

"I wouldn’t go out that door."

Adam froze, his breath caught in his throat as he turned, finding himself face to face with a man seated at the table he’d just left. It was impossible—he had been alone. His eyes settled on the stranger’s face: a strikingly handsome man, his blonde hair framing a face as sharp as it was beautiful. Cherry-red lips curled into a broad smile, and his intense blue eyes flickered with a strange light as he leaned back in his chair.

“Uh… did… did you just… say something?” Adam stammered, unable to peel his gaze away from the man's unearthly face.

The man’s smile widened, and he inclined his head. “I said, I wouldn’t go out that door. I would go out that one instead.”

He pointed to a wall across from Adam, where another door had appeared—one that hadn’t been there before.

Adam blinked, glancing back and forth between the doors, uncertainty seizing him. “That… wasn’t there before.”

The man chuckled, leaning forward and resting his chin on his hand, his gaze unbroken. "I know. Even in the safety of the Manila Room, the Backrooms like to play their tricks. They are alive, after all."

Swallowing, Adam let go of the doorknob and stepped back into the room, closing the door with a soft click.

“The… Backrooms?” he echoed, trying to process the stranger's words. He was aware of the pulse in his chest, of the steady beat that grew louder the longer he held the man’s gaze.

The man gestured to the chair. "Why don’t you sit back down and talk with me?"

His smile was still gentle, but there was something almost teasing in his tone. "Trust me, you’re going to want to sit down for this."

With nothing else to do, Adam nodded, nerves fluttering in his chest as he returned to his chair. He settled in slowly, his eyes meeting the stranger’s, held by the man’s piercing blue gaze. They shimmered, almost crystalline, reflecting the dull light of the room in strange, glimmering patterns, as though holding secrets of their own. Adam’s heart thrummed faster under the stranger’s unrelenting stare, every beat drawing him deeper into those dark, glassy depths.

“So…” the man began, his voice low, soft, and oddly comforting, “You’re Adam. You just fell in here, didn’t you?”

Adam’s mouth went dry. “Uh, yeah… I think I… noclipped, or whatever the term is?”

The man tilted his head, his smile never wavering. “Yes, that’s the term. You’re a newcomer, still figuring out which way is up.”

He chuckled. “And already talking to the Backrooms themselves. Bold move.”

Adam flushed. “I didn’t think it would actually… I mean, I didn’t expect you to show up.”

The man’s laughter was soft, filling the air like a soothing hum.

“Oh, I’m not the Backrooms,” he said, a hint of mischief sparking in his eyes. “Just someone who’s been here a long time. And I know the tricks it likes to play. If you’re not careful, it’ll twist you in knots you can’t untangle.”

Adam shifted in his seat, feeling both unnerved and inexplicably drawn to the man. “And you… live here? Or… are you, like, stuck too?”

The man smiled, a slight, wistful look crossing his face. “Stuck. Or maybe… chosen. It’s all perspective, don’t you think?”

He leaned in closer, his blue eyes gleaming with a strange, magnetic intensity. "Sometimes it’s easier to stop fighting the walls and to let them guide you. They have a way of giving you what you need if you know how to listen.”

Adam’s gaze darted toward the wall where the new door had appeared. "So… you think I should go through that door, instead of the other one?"

“Precisely.” The man folded his hands, his stare unbroken. “The Manila Room wants you to go through that door. The other will just bring you back here, over and over again until you stop resisting.”

Adam cleared his throat, glancing from the man’s bright blue eyes to the table between them. “Uh… I’m Adam,” he introduced himself, unsure if it even mattered in this strange, surreal place.

The man’s smile widened slightly, his eyes shimmering with a knowing gleam.

“I know. But it’s nice to meet you officially, Adam,” he said, folding his hands on the table. “You can call me… Lucifer.”

Adam blinked, taking in the name. Somehow it fit, and yet Lucifer looked nothing like the fiery, ominous figure he might have imagined. He looked like any regular guy: white hoodie, simple blue jeans, a t-shirt. It was all so casual. But as Adam’s gaze lingered, he realized there was something subtle, something almost magnetic, that set him apart. Maybe it was his eyes—bright blue but so strange, so alive in contrast to the dull, humming lights of the room.

Lucifer leaned forward, breaking the silence with a gentle, almost pitying look. “So, Adam, let’s cover the basics. This place you’ve found yourself in—the Backrooms? It’s vast. It has thousands of levels, some worse than others, but nearly all of them come with dangerous entities. Many will try to kill you. Some for food, others… just for fun.”

Adam gulped, his grip on the chair tightening. “Th-That’s… that’s awful. Are they all dangerous?”

Lucifer shook his head, a faint smirk playing on his lips. “No, not all. Some are harmless, maybe even friendly. Some are lonely, others want nothing more than to be left alone. But if you keep moving through the Backrooms, from one level to another, you’ll meet all kinds. And some encounters, you’ll wish you could forget.”

Adam’s mouth went dry, his thoughts racing with questions he didn’t know how to ask. Finally, he mustered a whisper, “How… how do I get out?”

Lucifer’s gaze darkened, and a small, humourless laugh slipped from his lips. “Get out? The easiest thing to do is to forget about that. The Backrooms don’t like to let anyone go. Any human who enters… well, they’re fair game. For the entities, for the levels themselves. Surviving here takes luck and… a bit of creativity.”

He leaned back, his eyes softening. “The only way out is by sheer accident. Very few actually find an exit.”

Adam’s shoulders slumped, the weight of the reality sinking in. “So… I’m trapped here? Forever?”

Lucifer shrugged; his expression unreadable. “That’s how it works here. This place doesn’t play fair, and it doesn’t have mercy.”

Adam’s eyes grew misty, and he had to bite back the surge of panic building in his chest. Forcing himself to look Lucifer in the eye again, he managed, “How… how many levels are there?”

Lucifer’s face went distant, his gaze drifting upward as though recalling some buried memory. He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Nine hundred ninety-nine. Give or take.”

Adam’s jaw dropped, his mind stumbling over the number. “Nine hundred and… ninety-nine?”

Lucifer laughed, the sound strangely comforting in the oppressive silence. “Yes. Quite a lot, isn’t it?”

Adam gawked. “You don’t think that’s… overwhelming?”

A smirk crept across Lucifer’s face. “I’ve been here a long time. After a while, even this place gets boring.”

Adam didn’t know how to respond to that, so instead, he blurted, “So what am I supposed to do? Just… survive?”

Lucifer’s amusement deepened, a glimmer of something dark dancing in his eyes. “The best thing you can do is join a group. Find others who fell in like you. It’s easier with allies… even if trust can be scarce.”

Adam tilted his head. “A… group?”

“Groups,” Lucifer explained smoothly, “Are made up of wanderers who’ve fallen in and, somehow, survived. There’s The M.E.G., The Black Knights, The B.N.T.G., The Eternal Repository… the list goes on. Each one claims to have a grand purpose, but to me, they all seem quite the same.”

Adam hummed thoughtfully. “How do I… join one?”

Lucifer chuckled, and he gestured to the door beside him. “By going through that door. It’ll take you to a canon, a sort of liminal space between levels. If you’re lucky, someone else might already be there. If not, you’ll have to wait for another wanderer to show up.”

Adam frowned, the dread returning. “Sort of safe?”

Lucifer’s laugh was quiet, tinged with that same dark humour. “Don’t worry too much. You’ll be fine. Just keep your wits about you.”

Adam took a steadying breath, his fingers hovering over the door handle. But before he could turn it, he glanced back at Lucifer. “Will I… see you again?”

Lucifer’s gaze softened, a flicker of something almost sympathetic flashing in his eyes.

“Maybe,” he replied, his voice dropping to a low, resonant whisper. “Or maybe I’ll just be another ghost in the shadows.”

He leaned back, watching Adam with an enigmatic smile. “Good luck, Adam. You’ll need it.”

With a final glance, Adam turned the knob and stepped through the door, the echo of Lucifer’s words lingering in his mind as the room faded into the endless unknown beyond.

Adam stepped carefully into the canyon between the two levels. It was disorienting, as though he stood on the lip of a metal chasm, darkness yawning beneath him, darkness pressing above. He was utterly alone, and Lucifer’s words taunted him in his head: If no one was here, you’d have to wait for someone to enter.

With a resigned sigh, Adam sat down, curling his knees to his chest and resting his head on them. He could almost laugh—just hours ago, he’d been hunched over his desk at the company, working into the dead of night for barely enough to scrape by. And now, here he was, trapped in some bizarre yellow maze, somewhere beyond his understanding. His eyes stung, his throat tightened. It felt like the cruellest of nightmares.

Exhaustion weighed on him, and his eyes began to drift shut. But just as the shadows started to claim him, he felt it—a faint tremor beneath him, the vibration of footsteps on the metal ring. His head jerked up, heart pounding. Standing within the canyon, eyes on him, was a stranger—a woman with short, snow-white hair, her gaze sharp and unreadable.

Adam’s breath caught, his green eyes widening as he met her stare.

Adam’s heart was still pounding as he scrambled to his feet, half from excitement, half from sheer exhaustion. He hadn’t thought anyone would actually show up—he’d half-believed he’d sit there until the dark around him swallowed him whole.

“Oh, thank God,” he breathed, his voice shaky as he took in the woman before him. “You’re… you’re really human?”

He searched her face for any hint of familiarity, comfort, something solid to hold onto. “I’m Adam, and I—I want to join your group. I’ll work hard, I swear! I’m… I’m good at… well, I mean, I’m good at, uh, following directions, and I won’t weigh anyone down.”

The woman, with her short, stark white hair and piercing gaze, stared at him in silence, her expression unreadable. Adam felt his confidence falter but forced himself to continue, words tumbling out in a rush.

“I, um… I don’t really know how long I’ve been here. Time, uh, kind of just… blends together.” He bit his lip, searching for the right words, but all he could think about was how he’d been ripped away from his regular, mundane life.

“I was just working late, trying to make ends meet, and then… and now I’m here, and it’s…” He trailed off, his voice catching.

The woman’s eyes narrowed, and she interrupted him, her voice cutting through his ramble like a knife.

“My name is Lute,” she said, her tone flat, “And I’m part of the Exorcist group.”

“Exorcist?” Adam echoed, the word strange but somehow hopeful. “Can I… join you?”

Lute frowned, clearly weighing her response carefully. “The Exorcist is… primarily a female-only group.”

Adam’s face flushed, and he shrank back a little, mumbling, “Oh, sorry… I didn’t know. I, uh—”

Lute’s expression softened slightly, though her gaze remained sharp. She let out a small snort, almost amused.

“Of course, you wouldn’t know. You’re new here, and you’re obviously…” she hesitated, her eyes flicking over him with an unreadable expression, “Not exactly cut out for this place.”

Her voice was blunt, but her stare lingered as if she saw something in him she hadn’t expected.

Adam’s heart sank, but before he could process her words, she sighed, shaking her head. “Look, I don’t know what it is, but something tells me not to leave you here like this. You look pathetic, honestly.”

His eyes widened, and he felt a surge of gratitude rush over him.

“Thank you,” he blurted, nodding rapidly as he moved to follow her. “Thank you, really—”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Lute interrupted, already turning toward the other side of the canon, her footsteps confident and precise. “I’m not making any promises, and I can’t guarantee they’ll welcome you in. I’m just… letting you tag along for now.”

Adam practically stumbled after her, words of thanks tumbling from his mouth anyway as he hurried to match her stride. Lute moved quickly and purposefully, her steps echoing around them as they crossed the canon. She didn’t look back, and Adam tried to steady himself, pulling himself together as best he could. He knew he’d have to prove himself if he had any hope of joining her group—and more importantly, of surviving.

“Just keep quiet and follow my lead,” Lute added, her tone dropping to a low murmur. “You’ll need to learn fast if you want to survive here. The Exorcist group doesn’t have much room for dead weight.”

Adam nodded, swallowing his nervousness. “Got it. I’ll do my best.”

Lute cast him one last, assessing glance before facing forward again. They moved in silence, the oppressive dark around them seeming to press in closer with each step. But with Lute’s steady form in front of him, Adam felt, for the first time since he’d stumbled into this nightmare, a glimmer of hope.

Adam’s heart pounded as he stepped into the cavernous room where the Exorcist group had gathered. True to Lute’s word, every pair of eyes on him belonged to a woman. They moved with a cautious efficiency that made him feel, for all his promises, painfully out of place. He forced a nervous smile, his hands fidgeting at his sides, and cleared his throat, trying to seem more confident than he felt.

“Uh, hi. I’m Adam,” he started, shifting from foot to foot as their gazes drilled into him. “I… I just wanted to say, I’ll pull my weight. I’m here to help, and, um, I know I’m new, but I’m a fast learner, I promise.”

He forced a chuckle, hoping it would lighten the mood, but it fell flat against the silence.

The women glanced at each other, their expressions impassive, communicating silently with one another in a way that made Adam even more uneasy. He felt like an intruder, desperately trying to find his footing. The silence grew thicker until one of them finally spoke, her voice dripping with scepticism.

“Lute,” she said, not looking at Adam, “mind telling us what’s going on here?”

Lute rolled her eyes but gestured toward him with a tilt of her head.

“Look at him. He’s like a damn lost puppy,” she said bluntly, a trace of annoyance in her voice. “If I’d left him out there, he’d have been toast in a day. Maybe less.”

She shrugged, giving him a sidelong glance. “Figured I’d give him a shot.”

Another woman, tall and broad-shouldered, folded her arms and raised an eyebrow.

“You know we’re not exactly… open enrolment.” Her tone held a trace of something soft, but her gaze remained wary.

Adam swallowed, trying not to shrink under her stare.

“I know I don’t really… fit the criteria,” he stammered, “But I’ll work hard. I’m not just here to slow you down.”

One of the younger women leaned over and muttered to another, “He does look kind of pathetic.”

Lute snorted, crossing her arms and tilting her head back as if sizing him up. “Yeah, well, he won’t stay that way for long if he’s with us. Look, he’s here now. Either we kick him out or we train him up. Your call.”

A tense silence lingered as the women exchanged glances, debating among themselves. Finally, the broad-shouldered woman let out a sigh and stepped forward, extending a hand.

“I’m Rhys. You can tag along, but this isn’t a free ride, got it?”

Adam nodded quickly, relief washing over him as he took her hand. “Thank you, really. I won’t let you down.”

Another woman with close-cropped dark hair crossed her arms and gave him a wry smile. “Welcome to Exorcist, Adam. But don’t get too comfortable. We’re not the hand-holding type.”

Adam managed a weak grin, nodding again, but the gravity of her words sank deep. He had so much to learn and knew he was still at the mercy of this strange, labyrinthine place. For now, though, he had allies—and that alone was enough to keep him going.

Rhys leaned back, looking him over once more. “You’ll start by carrying supplies. Let’s see if you can at least handle that without getting lost.”

As the group turned to go, Adam fell into step, glancing at Lute with a small, grateful smile. She didn’t return it, but there was a glint of something in her eyes—something almost like approval.

Weeks passed, and the tense, silent looks from the Exorcist group gradually gave way to something warmer, though it was subtle, unspoken. Adam noticed it in the way they would share rations with him or smirk at his half-nervous, half-genuine jokes. Lute, in particular, became his closest friend. The two shared a bond forged through trial and—on more than one occasion—outrunning danger together.

"Come on, rookie," she’d say, a mischievous glint in her eye, "Think you can keep up this time?"

It was a line he’d heard often and one that always made him laugh.

They were both runners, the fastest in Exorcist, and that edge had saved them and their team more times than Adam could count. There had been one close call on Level 38—a narrow corridor riddled with pulsing lights that disoriented even the steadiest runners. They’d gone in for supplies, but something had gone wrong, the walls started to shift and twist, trapping half the group.

Lute had grabbed his arm, pulling him forward, her voice sharp in his ear, "Run now. Don’t look back."

Adam had pushed forward, adrenaline drowning his fear, and managed to make it out just in time to loop around and pry open an exit from the other side, allowing the others to escape.

The relief on their faces as they emerged said it all. After that, the women began treating him less like an outsider and more like one of their own. A few even clapped him on the back or tossed him the odd compliment. His quick feet had made a difference, and now he knew they trusted him.

One evening, back in the Manila Room, Adam slumped against the wall, catching his breath after a long supply run. Lute dropped down next to him, throwing a smirk his way.

"Not bad for a newbie," she teased, elbowing him. "I thought I’d finally worn you out this time.”

Adam chuckled, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. “You’ll have to try harder than that.”

She snorted. "Keep it up, and maybe one day you'll actually pass me."

She looked at him, eyes softening just a little. "Not that I’m complaining, though. You’re useful to have around, Adam."

"Hey, coming from you, that almost sounds like a compliment," he grinned.

"Don’t let it get to your head," she shot back, but the faint smile tugging at her lips said otherwise.

Their camaraderie didn't go unnoticed. Rhys, ever the cautious leader, would often assign the two of them to scout new levels together, trusting their combined speed and Lute’s sharp instincts. Adam felt a surge of pride each time they were called forward—like he was finally part of something, like he was building something in this strange, surreal world he now called home.

It was on one such scouting mission, as they crossed into a newly discovered level, that Adam felt a shift in the air—a subtle dread. He and Lute exchanged a glance, their playful banter falling silent as they surveyed the strange terrain ahead. The walls were slate grey, punctuated by slits that cast narrow beams of dim light, and the floor was a checkerboard of glossy and matte tiles, each producing a different echo with every step.

“What do you think?” he whispered.

Lute scanned the shadows, her eyes narrowed. “This place feels… wrong. But we’re here now.”

She looked back at him, something serious in her gaze. “Stay close. I’d rather not have to rescue you if this goes sideways.”

Adam nodded, his pulse quickening. “Wouldn’t want to make you go through the trouble.”

They shared a brief smile before slipping into the shadows, side by side, knowing that whatever lay ahead, they'd face it together. The dim, oppressive corridors stretched endlessly before them, narrow pathways lined with rough, cold metal. The lights, barely flickering above, cast feeble beams that barely cut through the shadows.

“Keep your guard up,” Lute murmured, her voice low. “Entity Three—Smilers—have been reported around here.”

Adam perked up with interest. As one of the newer recruits, he hadn’t encountered all the entities they’d been warned about. He’d never seen a Smiler, and his curiosity flared. Lute shot him a sideways glance, catching his expression.

“Let’s hope you don’t,” she said sharply, her tone making it clear this wasn’t something to take lightly.

They crept forward, cautious but alert. As they reached a junction where a faint light pulsed dimly from down the corridor, Adam moved to step toward it. Before he could, Lute’s hand shot out, gripping his arm with surprising force.

“Stop,” she hissed, her eyes sharp and unyielding. Adam gave her a puzzled look. She nodded toward the faint light.

“Smilers are drawn to light,” she explained in a near whisper. “These tunnels are their perfect hunting grounds, especially for anyone inexperienced or careless. If they spot movement near light, they’ll chase—relentlessly.”

Adam’s gaze shifted across the dark labyrinth with a strange awe, imagining creatures lurking just beyond the shadows. A thrill sparked in his chest, but he held it back. He’d always been fascinated by the Backrooms, by the whispered horror stories of entities lurking within. He knew the others thought he was foolish for his curiosity—especially Lute.

Lute’s gaze was sharp and calculating as she took in the dimly lit expanse of metal tunnels sprawling before them. She glanced at Adam, a slight frown tugging at her lips, catching that glint of curiosity in his eyes—the same look that always unnerved her. Adam was fascinated by the Backrooms in a way that felt dangerous to her. Most people fell into this place wanting nothing more than to escape it; Adam, on the other hand, seemed intrigued, like he was peeking under the veil of some strange secret.

“First off, what we do,” she whispered, her hand still gripping his arm, “is make sure you don’t start daydreaming. These things are no joke, Adam. You can’t treat every entity like some kind of pet you’re hoping to spot. The Smilers? They’re not ones you want to admire from a distance.”

Adam’s face fell slightly, but he nodded, squashing his curiosity for now. “Right, right… No Smilers. Got it.”

Lute released his arm and gestured for him to follow her, keeping to the shadows along the walls. “We’ll need to move slowly, quietly. We’re only here to scout and see if this area’s clear for the others, so no straying from me. Understand?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Adam whispered, trying for levity but earning only a flat look in return.

“Stay behind me.” She moved with practiced ease, glancing around each corner before stepping forward.

 Adam followed, careful to keep his steps light, his breathing steady. The air was thick with humidity, making the metallic scent even sharper, and the low hum of flickering lights above sent intermittent pulses of light through the tunnels like a heartbeat.

As they advanced deeper into the level, the silence grew heavier, thickening the air like a fog. Adam felt a prickling at the back of his neck as his eyes scanned the darkness, half-expecting to see the curved white smile of a Smiler grinning back at him from the shadows.

“So… they really only attack if you panic or make noise?” Adam murmured, his voice barely a whisper.

Lute nodded, her eyes fixed ahead. “Yes, but don't count on that saving you if one gets too close. The best approach is to avoid them entirely. Remember what I said—eye contact, and back away slowly if you do see one. But let’s keep it that we don’t.”

They continued moving, the tunnel walls pressing in closer, the ceiling lower. Adam’s heart pounded as he spotted another light source up ahead, dim and flickering in a small alcove. Against his better judgment, he leaned forward, straining his eyes, almost hoping to catch a glimpse of movement—anything to get a sense of the entity that had become something of a morbid curiosity for him.

Lute’s hand shot out, gripping his shoulder this time.

 “Focus, Adam.” Her voice was stern, almost a warning. “Curiosity will get you killed here. These tunnels are a Smiler’s playground. If even one of them is around, they’ll know we’re here.”

Adam flushed, pulling himself back into focus. “Sorry. I’ll stay close.”

Lute nodded, though her gaze softened just slightly. “Good. Let’s just get out of here as fast as we can without drawing attention.”

They pressed on, weaving through twists and turns, Adam’s mind torn between fear and fascination as he imagined what lurked behind the shadows. Suddenly, a soft scraping sound echoed through the tunnel—a faint, scratching noise that seemed to come from the metal above them. Adam froze, looking up, his heart pounding as the noise grew louder, like nails dragging across steel.

Lute stopped in her tracks, her face paling slightly. She mouthed, Stay calm. She motioned for Adam to crouch down, and they huddled together, eyes fixed on the shadows above.

A soft, ghostly glow appeared above them, illuminating the faint outline of something tall, with a long, broad smile stretching impossibly wide. Its sharp teeth glistened in the dim light, and its eyes—a pair of small, reflective dots—seemed to flicker like candle flames as it stared down, unblinking.

Adam’s breath hitched, his fascination and terror mixing into a single, overpowering sensation. This was a Smiler, a real one, and it was close enough to see him, close enough to sense any wrong move.

Lute held a finger to her lips, her other hand gripping his arm tightly. Slowly, she began to back away, keeping eye contact with the creature, her steps careful and deliberate. Adam followed her lead, his gaze locked onto the Smiler’s eerie, endless grin.

The entity watched them, its head tilting in an unnatural way, but it didn’t pursue. Slowly, they put distance between themselves and the Smiler, slipping back into the deeper shadows until the creature’s glow faded into the darkness.

Once they were safely out of earshot, Lute let out a shaky breath. She turned to Adam, her eyes flashing with frustration and something like relief. “That, Adam, is why you don’t mess around here. You keep moving, and you keep your head down, got it?”

Adam nodded, swallowing hard. “Got it. I… thanks, Lute.”

She sighed, giving him a small, tired smile. “You’ll learn. Just don’t let your curiosity get us both killed, okay?”

As they navigated the final stretch of tunnels, Adam’s mind buzzed with questions, but he bit his tongue, focusing on the path ahead. The Smiler’s grin lingered in his thoughts, a haunting reminder of just how close they had come to losing everything in a single, miscalculated glance.

Finally, they found an exit, the faint glow of the Manila Room’s doorway up ahead. Lute quickened her pace, giving Adam one last warning look as they crossed the threshold.

“Remember this level, Adam,” she said softly, a trace of solemnity in her voice. “The Backrooms don’t take prisoners lightly. You got lucky today. Next time… stay in the shadows and keep your eyes to yourself.”

Lute and Adam stepped through the Manila Room doorway, and Lute let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Her tense shoulders relaxed as she saw the rest of the Exocists gathered, some waiting with concern clear in their faces. Adam, however, seemed more intrigued than relieved, his mind visibly still caught in the maze of tunnels they had left behind.

The group’s leader, Mia, approached them, her gaze flickering between Lute’s steady demeanor and Adam’s more excited expression. “Everything clear?” she asked.

Lute nodded. “Yes, but that level’s crawling with Smilers. It’s a deathtrap. We’ll need another route next time.” She shot Adam a sidelong glance, raising a brow as he suppressed a flurry of questions. “And some of us still need a reminder about not getting too curious.”

One of the girls chuckled, muttering, “Adam the curious puppy strikes again.”

Adam flushed but managed a grin, shrugging off the teasing with a halfhearted, “Just trying to be prepared.”

The team debriefed quickly, planning their next outing to a new level. This time, they were looking for resources, a stash the M.E.G. team had mentioned was hidden somewhere deep in a lower level. Lute and Adam were, again, assigned to go ahead and scout. Despite her reservations, Lute trusted Adam to keep up, knowing he was fast and learning quickly. His speed had come in handy more than once in getting them all out of close scrapes.

The next day, they stepped into the new level and were met with the heavy, stagnant air of the concrete hallways around them. Dim lights buzzed from above, throwing eerie shadows along the cracked walls.

“Let’s stick close,” Lute muttered, glancing around. “We need to get eyes on those crates and verify the supplies. And remember—stay sharp.”

Adam gave her a quick thumbs-up. “Got it. You lead; I’ll follow.”

They wove through the labyrinth of corridors, the silence thickening around them. Adam’s steps were quiet, but his attention wavered, his gaze darting into each shadowed nook they passed. He couldn’t shake the thrill he felt at being here; every corner hinted at secrets waiting to be uncovered.

After a while, the hallway branched into two paths. Lute paused, squinting down each passage, before turning to Adam.

“We’ll cover more ground if we split up here,” she said, though she looked at him with a hint of reluctance. “If you find anything, mark it on the wall and circle back here in ten. And if anything feels wrong—anything—you run.”

Adam nodded, trying to hide his excitement. “I’ll be fine. I’ll take the left path.”

Lute lingered for a moment, her gaze steady.

“Be careful,” she murmured, and with that, she turned down the opposite hallway.

Alone now, Adam’s footsteps echoed softly as he walked, his senses alert. The concrete walls around him were rough and cool to the touch, their uneven surfaces casting strange, shifting shadows. Every step he took was careful, his movements deliberate as he scanned each crevice and doorway. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was watching him, lurking just beyond his sight.

The further he went, the quieter everything became, as if the level itself absorbed sound. It was disorienting, the way each step seemed to vanish into the oppressive silence. His hand brushed against his flashlight, but he hesitated, remembering Lute’s words about lights drawing entities. He kept it in his pocket, instead moving by the faint light filtering down from above.

After a few minutes, he noticed faint, weathered markings on the wall. Strange symbols etched in chalk, faded and smeared. Someone had been here before him, possibly a group like his own. Adam felt a thrill of excitement mixed with caution. These markings could mean supplies… or they could be warnings.

Adam wandered alone through the dim tunnels, his large green eyes absorbing every detail, from the rusted bolts to the faint lights that barely pushed back the darkness. He was enthralled, even lost, when suddenly, hands shot out from behind, covering his eyes. He froze, his heart leaping into his throat as a shorter figure pressed against his back, guiding him to stumble backward into the corridor he had just left. His hands darted up, gripping the wrists of his unseen captor, and he twisted around, ready to demand an answer.

He was met with a wide, familiar grin.

"Lucifer?" he breathed, his voice barely a whisper. His disbelief was clear as he blinked, his eyebrows raised.

Lucifer chuckled, a soft “shhh” escaping his lips as he leaned closer. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

Adam flushed, his face warming as he mumbled, “I… I thought I’d never see you again.”

Lucifer tilted his head playfully. “Were you worried about me?”

Adam’s face darkened with a deeper shade of red, and he shrugged, his eyes scanning Lucifer as if seeing a ghost. Lucifer looked as pristine as ever, untouched by the horrors lurking in the Backrooms. His hoodie remained a clean, cozy white, his face calm and amused, not a trace of fear on him. The contrast left Adam reeling.

“Adam?” Lucifer’s voice pulled him back to the present, his gaze falling to where Adam still gripped his wrist. Adam’s eyes widened, and he quickly released him, stepping back in embarrassment.

“S-sorry,” he muttered shyly. “But… what were you doing?”

Lucifer’s grin widened as he took a step closer, “Saving you.”

Adam frowned, confusion twisting his features. “What do you mean?”

Lucifer gestured for him to follow, slipping silently to the edge of the corridor and leaning against the wall, his finger pointing toward a dimly lit patch across the open area. “See that?” he whispered, indicating a yellowish potato sack lying half in the shadows.

Adam squinted, a puzzled frown settling on his face. “Yeah… but it’s just a sack?”

Lucifer flashed a knowing smile. “That, Adam, is Entity 121—the Bone Thieves.”

Adam’s stomach turned, and he glanced warily back at the bag. “But it looks… like nothing.”

“They do,” Lucifer murmured, “until you get close. They’re massive, potato-shaped creatures with bumpy, sickly yellow skin—almost impossible to damage. They look harmless to lure people in.”

Just then, a chilling sound filled the air, the sack emitting a series of human-like cries, rising into anguished moans. Adam’s eyes widened in horrified fascination as he watched the bag shudder, as though in pain.

“The Bone Thieves,” Lucifer continued, his voice barely audible over the cries, “Mimic voices. Their sounds are so accurate that they lure their prey in close, paralyzing them. And if you’re unfortunate enough to look into their eyes…”

Lucifer trailed off, letting the implication settle. “That’s why one of the rules of the Backrooms is to never trust what you hear.”

Adam gulped, pressing himself back against the wall as the moans intensified.

“H-how do they kill?” he asked, his voice trembling. “Why are they called Bone Thieves?”

Lucifer’s eyes flicked toward a corridor across from them, his smile fading. “Watch closely.”

In that instant, a stranger, drawn by the mournful cries, came running down the hallway toward the sack. Adam gasped, watching as the man, transfixed, stumbled to a stop directly in front of the Bone Thief. Then, in a heartbeat, his entire body crumpled, collapsing like a sack of liquid, folding onto the ground in an unnaturally smooth descent.

“W-what just happened?” Adam whispered, his knees buckling as he clutched the wall for support.

Lucifer leaned in close, his shoulder brushing against Adam’s. “The Bone Thieves can silently extract every bone from a body with one look, leaving them a boneless husk. The poor soul falls, completely limp. Once they’re done, they swallow the body whole, slurping it up as if it were nothing. The bones? They teleport those away, instantly removed the moment a person makes eye contact.”

Just as Lucifer finished speaking, the Bone Thief stretched its ghastly neck toward the limp body, extending a thick, rubbery tongue that coiled around the corpse, pulling it into its gaping maw. With one audible gulp, it slumped back to the floor, its eyes closing as it settled into stillness.

“It’s safe now,” Lucifer murmured, straightening himself, his tone almost casual. “As long as we don’t disturb it. But if I hadn’t stopped you, you’d have walked right out there. And I can’t let that happen.”

Adam exhaled shakily, rubbing the back of his neck, his pulse still racing from what he’d just witnessed. “Thanks… really. I think I would have.”

Lucifer only smiled, giving Adam a gentle nudge. “Try to stay curious and careful, Adam.”

dam and Lucifer continued down the dark tunnels, Lucifer’s footsteps light and almost playful, while Adam moved cautiously, his eyes flickering over every corner but always drifting back to Lucifer. Unbeknownst to Adam, faint figures with wide, eerie grins watched from the shadows, their ghostly smiles locked on the pair as they passed by, but for now, they simply observed, content to wait.

Lucifer broke the silence with a gentle hum. “So, tell me, Adam—what entities have you come across so far?”

Adam’s shoulders slumped a bit.

“Not many,” he admitted, pouting. “I want to see more, but my group isn’t exactly on board. They all think it’s too dangerous, especially Lute. She barely lets me out of her sight if there’s even a hint of something risky.”

Lucifer snorted, amusement flickering in his eyes. He swayed back and forth as he walked, and when he stumbled, Adam instinctively reached out, steadying him. Lucifer flashed him a bright smile, his eyes gleaming. “Nothing wrong with curiosity, Adam. It’s completely normal. Actually, I’d say it’s a good thing.”

Lucifer leaned against Adam’s chest, grinning as he wrapped his arms warmly around Adam’s waist. Adam felt his cheeks heat up, but he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. Lucifer’s voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “If you want my opinion, the best entity around here is Entity 27.”

Adam blinked, his curiosity instantly rekindled. “Entity 27? What’s that one?”

Lucifer gave a low chuckle, pressing himself closer. “Guess.”

Adam’s mind whirled as he tried to imagine the most terrifying creature possible. “A—a monster that could tear people apart, maybe something demonic… or invisible, that strikes without warning?”

Lucifer laughed, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Oh, you really want to know, don’t you?”

“Of course I do!” Adam exclaimed, his curiosity fully piqued, almost forgetting about the tunnels around them.

With a glint of amusement, Lucifer stretched up onto his tiptoes, leaning in so close his breath brushed Adam’s ear.

“Entity 27 is…” he murmured, drawing out the suspense as Adam leaned in, his eyes burning with excitement.

“…Athenian ducks.”

Adam’s jaw dropped. “Ducks? Like… blood-sucking ducks?”

Lucifer grinned wider, shaking his head. “Nope. Just… ducks. Skittish, jumpy little things that run at the slightest hint of danger.”

Adam stared, both incredulous and fascinated. “That’s it? Just… normal ducks?”

Lucifer shrugged with a smirk. “Not every entity in the Backrooms is out for blood, Adam. Sometimes, they’re just here to make you laugh.”

Adam chuckled; his curiosity undiminished. He couldn’t quite picture these odd, harmless creatures among the horrors of the Backrooms, but then again, with Lucifer at his side, it all felt like a surreal dream anyway.

As they wandered deeper into the dim tunnels, the shadows danced around them, but Adam’s attention was wholly absorbed by Lucifer. He could barely focus on the surroundings, lost in the mesmerizing aura that Lucifer exuded.

“Hey, Lucifer,” Adam began, glancing sideways at him. “What about you? What entities have you seen?”

Lucifer hummed thoughtfully, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “Oh, I’ve probably seen them all. It’s hard to avoid them when you’ve been here as long as I have.”

Adam’s eyes widened in awe. “Really? Can you tell me about them?”

Lucifer snorted, his grin widening. “Alright, but don’t expect me to make it exciting.”

He began to recount, his voice casual yet tinged with an undercurrent of knowledge. “For starters, there’s Entity 33. You might know it as The King of the Clouds, The Animated King, or just The King. It resides in the uppermost level of the Castle of Transparent Mountain within Level 94.”

Adam listened intently, imagining the regal figure. “What’s he like?”

“He’s highly intelligent and literate in many fields, but honestly? He’s pretty boring.” He whistled softly, shaking his head. “If you ask me, he’s just confused and blind to his own powers.”

Adam smiled, picturing this majestic yet unremarkable king. “What else?”

“Then there’s Entity 79, often referred to as a ‘Wanderer.’ That’s what happens to people who consume Almond Water. They transform, and it’s pretty much inevitable. The only way to slow it down is by diversifying your diet. But good luck avoiding Almond Water entirely—its allure is strong, and almost everyone drinks it at least once.”

Adam nodded, intrigued. “What about other entities?”

“Ah, Entity 130, the Growlers,” Lucifer continued, the names rolling off his tongue like a well-rehearsed list. “They’re massive and hulking, always slouching due to their tentacular limbs. They come in various colours and are highly dangerous.”

Adam’s eyes widened further, the images flooding his imagination. “And what about the Howlers?”

“Entity 415,” Lucifer said, glancing at Adam. “They’re tall, usually around eleven feet, with glowing green eyes and black rock merged into their bodies. They constantly emit low growls that can be heard from quite a distance. If you hear one, you’d best head in the opposite direction.”

“That sounds terrifying!” Adam gasped, adrenaline coursing through him.

“Oh, and then there’s Entity 999,” Lucifer added nonchalantly. “It refers to a specific array of extreme hallucinations and pathogens that affect solitary wanderers. It appears near isolated areas, infecting food and supplies. It’s tricky because it’s hard to identify due to its unnatural appearance. Interestingly, it seems to show some kind of sentience.”

Adam listened intently, his heart racing at the thought of these formidable entities. Each detail drew him deeper into a world both fascinating and terrifying. But as Lucifer continued to list them off, he noticed a hint of boredom creeping into Lucifer’s tone.

Feeling bold, Adam came to a stop and grabbed the back of Lucifer's hood, gently pulling him to a halt. Lucifer blinked owlishly, the sudden motion catching him off guard. Then, as if awakening from a daydream, he cuddled back into Adam, his face beaming with mischief.

Adam found himself instinctively hugging Lucifer back, warmth flooding through him.

“Do you have a favourite entity?” he asked, genuinely curious.

Lucifer pouted slightly, resting his head against Adam’s chest, listening to the steady thump of his heartbeat. He melted into Adam’s embrace, a dreamy smile spreading across his face.

“I don’t have a favourite… but do you want to hear about the most dangerous entity in the Backrooms?” His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “The one you must never upset or disappoint?”

Adam’s breath caught in his throat, practically vibrating with excitement. “Yes, Luci! I really do!”

Lucifer gasped, the nickname igniting a flicker of delight in his eyes. He squeezed Adam tightly, nuzzling his face against Adam's chest, an almost affectionate purr escaping him.

“Alright, but be warned—this one is no joke. It’s not just a creature; it’s a force to be reckoned with.”

Adam leaned in closer, captivated, eager to hear the story behind this dangerous entity that had stirred such emotion in Lucifer. The air between them buzzed with anticipation, the darkness of the tunnels fading into the background as their shared curiosity ignited a light of its own.

Lucifer’s voice dropped to a hushed, almost reverent tone.

“Entity 1000,” he began, “Is the Game Creator, the master of all stories. They are extremely dangerous, and nobody has lived to tell the tale.”

Adam’s brow furrowed, a pout forming on his lips. “But you said there were only 999 entities,” he pointed out, curiosity swirling in his large green eyes.

Lucifer smirked, a glimmer of mischief in his gaze. “That’s because nobody knows if Entity 1000 is real or not. It’s hard to explain. They’re like a god, I guess.”

He paused, leaning slightly closer, the warmth of his presence sending shivers down Adam's spine. “They’re like all the entities merged together, able to do anything they want. They control the Backrooms. Some believe they even created the Backrooms themselves just to entertain themselves.”

Adam hummed thoughtfully, his mind racing as he continued to hold Lucifer close. The blonde-haired man felt warm against him, and Adam shivered again when he felt Lucifer's lips brush against the centre of his chest.

“But you’ve seen them?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Lucifer chuckled softly, a hint of something strange in his tone.

“Bingo,” he said, tilting his head back to meet Adam’s gaze. “It’s said that Entity 1000 was once an angel of God.”

Adam found himself entranced, unable to look away from Lucifer’s intense eyes. His heart began to beat louder, each pulse resonating in the silence around them.

“What happened to this angel?” Adam asked, his curiosity piqued.

Lucifer leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “He was God’s favourite angel, the most powerful and beautiful one of them all. God doted on him, showering him with love and affection. But one day, God created something new—humans. And in doing so, he began to neglect his angel.”

A chill ran through Adam as he absorbed the weight of Lucifer's words.

“The angel got jealous,” Lucifer continued, “Angry at God for focusing his attention on these new creations. He didn’t understand why he had to care for them, so he decided to prove to his father that humans weren’t as perfect as he believed. He tricked them into taking the apple of life, but it unlocked the sins of the world within them.”

Adam’s breath hitched as he processed this dark turn in the tale.

“And God was furious?” he asked softly.

Lucifer nodded, his expression growing sombre. “He punished the angel cruelly, casting him out of heaven. With nowhere to go, the angel floated in the abyss of nothingness for centuries. His anger turned to boredom, and from that emptiness, the need to entertain himself grew.”

Adam felt a pang of sympathy for this fallen angel.

“So he created the Backrooms,” he murmured, piecing together the narrative.

“Exactly,” Lucifer confirmed, his eyes shining with intensity. “From his six wings, he crafted this labyrinth of horrors, trapping all of his father’s precious humans who fell into it. The entities here are manifestations of mankind’s sins, and he set them free to hunt any and all who dared to wander into his domain.”

Adam pressed his lips into a tight line, staring intently at Lucifer as he processed the weight of those words.

“That poor angel,” he finally said after several seconds, his heart aching for the creature cast out from grace.

Lucifer’s eyes widened in surprise, and he straightened, his head tilting slightly as he regarded Adam.

“Why do you feel pity for him?” he asked, his voice tinged with genuine curiosity.

Adam frowned thoughtfully. “Because he lost his home. He lost his family—all because God was selfish.”

Lucifer swallowed hard, a flicker of something unidentifiable crossing his features. “How was God selfish?” he pressed.

Adam bit his bottom lip, searching for the right words. “Because God ignored his favourite angel. Of course the angel would get hurt over that. He probably didn’t understand why he was being neglected, and it’s no wonder he lashed out.”

Lucifer remained silent for a moment, absorbing Adam’s perspective. The flickering lights in the tunnel cast shadows that danced around them, creating an almost surreal atmosphere.

“You’re different, Adam,” Lucifer finally said, a hint of admiration threading through his voice. “Most people would be too scared to feel anything for the angel. They see him as a monster.”

Adam shrugged, feeling the warmth of their connection deepening. “But he was hurt. You can’t just look at his actions without understanding the pain behind them.”

Lucifer smiled softly, his gaze lingering on Adam with a newfound respect. “You’re right. Maybe there’s more to this place than just fear and survival.”

He paused, then leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “But promise me you won’t let your curiosity lead you to danger, okay? This place isn’t just a story; it’s real, and it can consume you if you’re not careful.”

Adam nodded, feeling the gravity of Lucifer’s words settle within him.

Lucifer's smile becomes more mysterious, as if it held secrets untold. He stretches himself up onto his tip toes and brushes his fingers along Adam’s cheek.

"Do you want to know what entity 1000 is after nowadays?" he whispers, the shine in his blue eyes increasing.

Adam nods, suddenly finding himself unable to speak.

Lucifer purred, "It's said, he's looking for a mate. Somebody to make his own so he can breed."

“Breed?” Adam breathes out in confusion, “You mean he wants to impregnant a women?”

A laugh escaped Lucifer. He nuzzled his face into Adam’s chest, “Ah, Adam, you're so funny sometimes. He is an angel, the god of the backrooms, do you think it really matters of the gender? if he wants to knock somebody up, he will do it.”

“Oh,” Adam flushed, “That makes sense. So, he wants to have kids?”

“A family,” the blonde-haired man whispered, “He wants a family. he's tired of being alone and continuously being bored. he wants people who would never bore him.”

Adam’s mind spun at the implications of Lucifer’s words. The idea of Entity 1000, the god of the Backrooms, seeking companionship sent a strange mix of emotions coursing through him. It was a revelation that seemed so absurd yet profoundly human. He could hardly wrap his head around the concept of an entity so powerful yearning for something as simple and delicate as a family.

“Wait, so… he’s lonely?” Adam asked, his brow furrowing in confusion. The notion that even a god could feel such a fundamental human emotion was almost too much to comprehend.

Lucifer nodded, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief and warmth. “Exactly. Even the most powerful beings can feel isolation. Can you imagine being so mighty yet so utterly alone? It’s a tragic irony.”

He paused, looking thoughtfully at the floor for a moment. “He watches the entities he created roam the Backrooms, and they’re all bound by their nature—tethered to their instincts, to their hunger. It must be so lonely when you’re the one who can’t play the game anymore.”

Adam felt a pang of empathy for the elusive Entity 1000. “But what kind of family would he want? I mean, could anyone truly fill that void for him?”

He pondered aloud, trying to reconcile the image of a nurturing figure with the fierce god who ruled the Backrooms.

Lucifer’s expression softened as he leaned closer, resting his chin against Adam’s chest. “It’s the idea of connection, Adam. It’s not just about creating life; it’s about the bonds that tie us together. Entity 1000 wants to share his existence with someone, anyone, who can challenge him, inspire him, make him feel alive again.”

A shiver ran down Adam’s spine at the thought. “That’s… kind of sad. For all the power he holds, he still craves companionship. It makes him seem more relatable.”

Lucifer chuckled softly, raising his head to meet Adam’s gaze once more. “Exactly! The most terrifying entities in the Backrooms often have the most tragic stories. It’s the duality of existence here—fear and loneliness, power and vulnerability. It’s what makes our experiences rich, even in this dark place.”

Adam nodded, absorbing Lucifer’s words. The Backrooms were more than just a labyrinth of horrors; they were also a reflection of the complex emotions and stories each entity carried. “So, if he’s looking for a mate, does that mean he’s a threat to us? Is he dangerous?”

Lucifer’s smile turned serious, his brow furrowing slightly. “That’s the concern. If he feels desperate enough, who knows what he might do? A god scorned can be more terrifying than any entity lurking in the shadows.”

“But remember, Adam,” he said, his voice softening again, “There’s always a balance. While Entity 1000 might seek something, it doesn’t mean he will lash out at everyone. Sometimes, understanding is the first step to survival.”

Adam took a deep breath, trying to absorb all the nuances of the conversation.

 “It’s a lot to take in,” he admitted, feeling the weight of the Backrooms pressing down around them. “I just want to explore and learn more about all of this. But it’s hard when every turn could lead to danger.”

Lucifer’s expression brightened, the mischief returning to his eyes. “That’s the spirit! Curiosity is your greatest asset, but let’s ensure it doesn’t lead you to peril. And speaking of curiosity, do you want to know a secret about Entity 1000? One that might not be so widely known?”

Adam’s eyes widened, filled with eagerness. “Absolutely! What is it?”

Lucifer leaned in closer, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “It’s said that deep down, he can grant wishes. Not just any wish—your deepest desire, something that could change everything. But there’s always a catch, like all good stories.”

The thrill of the idea sent a rush of excitement through Adam.

“What kind of catch?” he asked, his heart racing.

Lucifer’s grin widened, revealing a hint of the darkness lurking beneath the surface. “The price could be steep. Sometimes it takes more than you’re willing to give. Perhaps your sanity, or the very essence of your humanity. You’ll never know until you ask.”

Adam swallowed hard, a mixture of fear and fascination swirling in his chest. The allure of making a wish seemed tantalizing, yet the danger loomed large. “So, it’s like a gamble?”

“Precisely!” Lucifer exclaimed; his enthusiasm infectious. “But isn’t that what life is about here? Taking risks, pushing boundaries, and embracing the chaos? You never know what you might discover about yourself along the way.”

Adam couldn’t help but smile, feeling the spark of adventure igniting within him. “You’re right! Even in this terrifying place, there’s so much to explore and learn. I guess that’s what keeps me going.”

Just then, he heard it—a soft, low scraping noise echoing from somewhere further down the corridor. Adam froze, his heart pounding as he tried to make out where it was coming from. It was faint, yet unrelenting, like something dragging across concrete. He turned his head, looking in the direction he heard the scraping sound but when he turned back to Lucifer, he found him gone.

“Lucifer?” he called in surprise.

Lucifer was no where in sight. Where had he gone?

The scraping sound grew louder, and suddenly, it clicked—whatever was making the noise was directly behind him.

Adam’s breath caught in his throat as he turned, coming face-to-face with a grinning shadow. It was tall, its limbs thin and elongated, and from the shadows, a single, ghastly smile gleamed white against the darkness. A Smiler. Its smile stretched impossibly wide, its eyes small and beady, glowing faintly as it watched him.

Panic surged, and Adam’s instincts screamed at him to run. But he remembered Lute’s instructions: Don’t panic, don’t turn away. Keep eye contact. Fighting the urge to bolt, he took a slow, deliberate step backward, his eyes never leaving the creature’s grin.

The Smiler didn’t move, but its smile widened, the unnatural grin stretching farther than seemed possible. Adam’s heart raced as he continued to back away, each step feeling like a precarious balance between life and death. He reached into his pocket, fumbling for his flashlight. Slowly, he pulled it out, angling it so that he could toss it as a distraction if he needed to.

Just then, another sound echoed through the corridor—a voice, low and firm. “Adam!”

It was Lute. Relief washed over him, and he didn’t dare turn, knowing the Smiler’s gaze was still fixed on him. Instead, he backed up faster, his steps guided by Lute’s voice until he could feel her presence beside him. She gripped his arm and, without a word, led him back toward the safety of the corridor they’d come from.

Only when they were several turns away from the Smiler did she finally release him, her expression a mixture of anger and relief.

“What the hell were you thinking?” she hissed. “That thing would have torn you apart if you’d moved wrong!”

Adam opened his mouth to respond, but the words caught in his throat. He was still shaking, the memory of that grin seared into his mind.

“I… I didn’t see it until it was too late,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Lute’s anger softened slightly, and she sighed. “Look, I know you’re curious about this place. But you have to understand—curiosity here is dangerous. I’ve lost too many people to this place, and I’m not about to lose you.”

Adam nodded, the weight of her words sinking in. “I’ll be more careful next time. I promise.”

Lute studied him for a moment before nodding. “Good. Let’s get back to the others.”

They made their way back through the dim corridors, the silence pressing in around them once again. Adam’s mind buzzed with questions, but for the first time, his curiosity was tempered with a newfound respect for the dangers lurking in the Backrooms.

Time slipped through Adam’s fingers like grains of sand. He couldn’t quite gauge how long he had been wandering the Backrooms with Lute and the others. Days or weeks felt irrelevant in a place where the very fabric of reality twisted and warped. He often caught glimpses of Lucifer, that beautiful blonde man whose presence ignited something warm within him. Each encounter was like a breath of fresh air amidst the stale atmosphere of the Backrooms.

Yet whenever he approached Lucifer and asked him to join his group, the response was always the same—a light laugh, a playful pat on the cheek, and the words, “I’d prefer not to.”

The softness of Lucifer's demeanour made it difficult for Adam to understand why he wouldn’t want to be part of a group that cared about him. Was it fear? A sense of duty? Each time Adam encountered him, he felt a twinge of disappointment but brushed it off, determined to keep asking whenever fate allowed them to cross paths again.

On the other hand, Lute’s reactions to Adam’s stories about Lucifer were less than enthusiastic. She grew increasingly irritated every time Adam mentioned his blonde-haired friend.

 “Adam, you need to be careful,” she warned, her tone laced with concern. “What if he’s just an illusion? An entity pretending to be someone he’s not? They can be incredibly deceptive. You could be walking into a trap.”

Adam sighed, feeling the weight of Lute’s protectiveness. She cared for him, he knew that, but it was hard for him to dismiss his feelings for Lucifer.

 “He’s not like that,” Adam insisted, a stubbornness creeping into his voice. “He’d never hurt me.”

“Really? And how can you be so sure?” Lute retorted, crossing her arms. “You hardly see him! It’s reckless to trust someone you know so little about.”

Adam shrugged, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I just know. Luci is my friend.”

Lute groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration. “You sound like a schoolgirl with a crush, Adam.”

The words hung in the air, and Adam paused in thought. A schoolgirl with a crush? Was that what this was? Did he… like Lucifer? The realization sent a flutter of excitement through him, but also a wave of confusion. Was it really a crush if he felt so deeply connected to this enigmatic figure? Every time he saw Lucifer, his heart raced, and a warmth spread through him that felt unlike anything else.

He pondered this new perspective as he wandered through the dim tunnels. Lute's warnings echoed in the back of his mind, mingling with the excitement that came from the thought of his bond with Lucifer. Perhaps it was naïve, but there was something undeniably comforting about their interactions—something that made the endless labyrinth feel a little less daunting.

As days blurred into nights, Adam continued to search for Lucifer. Each time they met, his heart would leap, and he’d feel a rush of joy at the sight of him. Whether it was Lucifer’s playful laughter or the way he seemed genuinely interested in Adam’s thoughts, those moments became a lifeline for him.

Still, the question of Lute’s concern nagged at him. Could Lucifer truly be an entity with ulterior motives? Every encounter felt genuine, yet the Backrooms were filled with treachery and deceit. He wanted to believe in the goodness he sensed in Lucifer, but the words of his friend weighed heavily on his heart.

“Maybe I do like him,” Adam murmured to himself one evening, his voice barely above a whisper. The thought brought a smile to his face, and he felt a warmth spreading through him at the idea. “…maybe I really do like him, much more then I thought…”

Adam found himself alone on a new level, a space that felt strangely devoid of the usual chaos that characterized the Backrooms. The silence wrapped around him like a heavy blanket, but rather than feeling frightened, he felt a sense of calm. It was a welcome reprieve after the adrenaline-fueled days spent with the Exorcists, who had grown to trust him more than he could have imagined. No longer was he tethered to Lute’s watchful eye; he had earned his freedom to scout alone, as long as he returned by a certain time.

As he settled against the cool, metallic wall, he reflected on the journey that had brought him here. He hadn’t encountered any entities or other humans since he entered this level. It was quiet, almost too quiet, but he didn’t mind. He had heard tales of this unexplored level from another group, and his curiosity had gotten the better of him. He had begged Rye and Mia to let him explore it, much to Lute’s dismay. But in a surprising twist, they had agreed to let him venture out on his own. Excitement had surged through him at the thought of being a true explorer in the Backrooms.

Yet, excitement could only fuel him for so long. The tiresome trek had taken its toll, and now his legs felt numb beneath him. As he took a moment to rest, he leaned back and closed his eyes. The stillness of the level allowed his thoughts to drift, and they inevitably wandered back to Lucifer.

A flutter danced in his chest, a subtle reminder of how much he liked the enigmatic blonde. Adam bit his lip, unable to suppress a smile as he thought of the way Lucifer’s laughter lit up the shadows of the Backrooms, making even the most unsettling environments feel a little less foreboding. In moments where he felt lost or scared, Lucifer’s presence always brought a strange comfort.

He imagined their conversations, the way Lucifer leaned in when he spoke, as if sharing a secret that only the two of them understood. It was those moments that made Adam's heart race, igniting a warmth that spread through him like a gentle flame. He didn’t understand entirely what he felt for Lucifer, but he knew it was something special.

As he sat there, lost in thought, Adam couldn’t shake the lingering worry that Lute’s warnings echoed in his mind. What if Lucifer was just an illusion? What if he was a clever entity that could easily devour his trust? But the thought felt hollow against the backdrop of his experiences with Lucifer. There had been no deception, no malice—only a connection that felt genuine, however improbable that seemed in the Backrooms.

Taking a deep breath, Adam opened his eyes and stared into the empty expanse before him. The shadows shifted as the dim lights flickered overhead, casting strange shapes on the walls. In that moment of solitude, he made a silent promise to himself: he would find a way to prove to Lute that his feelings for Lucifer were real, that the bond he felt wasn’t just a fleeting whim but something worth exploring.

As Adam sat in the eerie quiet of the unexplored level, his mind drifted into a vivid daydream, painting pictures of the one person who ignited his heart like no other—Lucifer. In his imagination, Lucifer came alive, stepping out of the shadows with that familiar warmth that seemed to wrap around him like a cozy blanket.

He could picture Lucifer’s blue eyes, striking and intense, glimmering like sapphires amidst the dim glow of the Backrooms. Those eyes had a mischievous spark, full of secrets and a depth that Adam longed to explore. The way they lit up when Lucifer laughed sent a jolt of exhilaration through Adam, leaving him breathless. He could almost hear the echo of that laughter, a sound that resonated in his soul and made him feel as if the world around him faded away, leaving just the two of them in their own little universe.

With every memory that floated to the surface, warmth spread through Adam, starting in his chest and radiating outward like the gentle heat of a soft ember. He swirled where he sat, momentarily lost in the comforting thoughts. It was as if the shadows of the Backrooms could not touch him when he was thinking of Lucifer. He remembered the way Lucifer would lean closer, his soft blonde hair brushing against Adam’s arm, sharing stories about the entities that roamed their world. Those moments were precious, filled with a closeness that sent butterflies dancing in Adam’s stomach.

He recalled how Lucifer’s smile could brighten the darkest corners, effortlessly cutting through the dread that lurked in every shadow. It wasn’t just a smile; it was an invitation—a promise of safety and warmth in a place that often felt cold and unwelcoming. Adam felt a soft flush creep up his cheeks at the thought. The way Lucifer looked at him, with that blend of playfulness and genuine interest, made his heart race like it was trying to escape its confines.

With each thought of Lucifer, Adam’s resolve to be near him grew stronger. He wanted to share every experience, every moment of joy and fear in this unpredictable labyrinth. He found himself daydreaming about the adventures they could have together, navigating the twists and turns of the Backrooms as a team. He wanted to be the one who brought light to Lucifer’s world, just as Lucifer did for him.

But even beyond the allure of adventure, there was something deeper simmering beneath the surface. Adam felt an undeniable connection, a bond that transcended the dangers surrounding them. He liked how Lucifer’s presence grounded him, how it allowed him to feel things he hadn’t felt before—hope, curiosity, and even love. That realization sent a shiver down his spine, causing him to squirm a little where he sat, caught between the thrill of those feelings and the fear of what they might mean.

Lost in his thoughts, Adam rested his head against the cool metal wall, his heart thumping in rhythm with the warmth spreading through him. He felt almost giddy at the prospect of seeing Lucifer again, and with each breath, he envisioned the moment they would be reunited. There was something undeniably special about the way he felt, and he couldn’t help but smile at the thought of their next encounter.

“Lucifer,” he whispered softly to himself, the name slipping past his lips like a cherished secret.

Adam squirmed as the warmth intensified inside him. He wiggled and glanced down at himself, a troubled pout spreading across his lip. Ah. Oh. A brilliant blush spread across his cheeks as he realized just thinking about Lucifer had set his body on fire. A stiffness began to appear between his thighs and Adam let out a soft whimper, his skin beginning to twitch and shudder with desire.

“Shit,” he whispered, glancing around himself again. It was just as empty and silent as before. “Um…”

Moving his hands wearily across his stomach, Adam peeked down at the hard bulge was beginning to form between his legs. His fingers trembled as he brushed them over the bulge, a gasp escaped him. His eyes fluttered shut as he began to touch himself further, rolling his fingers over the tent, a whimper beginning to leave his tongue.

“Oh,” he moaned, his mind beginning to conjure up the certain blonde that his body reacting like this to begin with.

He pictured Lucifer.

Lucifer against him, touching him, rolling his hips against Adam’s, whispering toe-curling words to him. Adam whimpered and gasped, lightly cupping himself and squeezing. He wished Lucifer was really here, he wished Lucifer liked him the way Adam liked him. He wondered what Lucifer would say or do if he knew what Adam was doing.

“L-Lucifer…” he moaned softly, beginning to press down a little more on his hidden cock.

“Yes?” a sudden familiar voice cooed.

Freezing, Adam’s eyes sprung open, and his breath leaped into his throat. Especially as he titled his head to find Lucifer crouched right next to him. The moment Adam looked at him, mortified that he was here, Lucifer beamed brightly.

“You called, Addie~” Lucifer sang, his blue eyes dark and glassy.

“I-I…” Adam stuttered, his whole body locking up in shock. “I-I, I…”

Lucifer giggled and shifted himself, moving to sit on his knees and his blue eyes sweep down Adam’s body. He gazed at the bulge between Adam’s thighs with a smile, “Do you want help with that?”

“W-What are you doing here?!” Adam let out high pitched, his face growing even darker then ever before.

“You called for me, remember?” Lucifer said in amusement. His hands creeping across Adam’s thighs and beginning to stroke his fingertips across the back of Adam’s hand, “Addie, let me help you. I made your body react like this, didn’t I?”

Mouth opening and shutting, Adam whined unable to come up with a reasonable sentence. His breath hitched when Lucifer moved closer to him, close enough that he felt Lucifer’s boy heat beginning to prickle across his side and making the hairs on Adam’s body stand up on end.

Curling his tender fingers around Adam’s, Lucifer removed his hand from the bulge and held onto Adam’s hand as his other hand began to run up his thigh. A soft hum escaped Lucifer, whimpering it as if to keep Adam calm and relaxed.

“You know I won’t hurt you. I will never hurt you, Addie. I want to make you feel better, please let me~” he sang sweetly, tracing his fingertips over the bulge and making Adam inhale sharply, “Let me help you reach that release~”

Adam stared at Lucifer, his face was still bright red and his green eyes glassy, “…Lucifer? Is…is that really you?”

“What?” Lucifer blinked in surprise, tilting his head upward, “Of course it’s me. Why would you think otherwise?”

“Um…b-because…the entities, an entity could be using you to manipulate me,” Adam breathed out shakingly, “I just want to make sure it’s you and not something else.”

Lucifer's expression softened, and he stepped closer, the warmth radiating from him almost tangible in the chilly air of the Backrooms.

“Adam, I promise you, it’s me,” he said gently, his voice a soothing balm against the unease coursing through Adam’s veins. “I understand your fears; this place is filled with deception and shadows.”

“But look at me,” he urged, reaching up to cup Adam's face with his warm, calloused hands.

Adam felt his heart race as he gazed into Lucifer’s striking blue eyes, those familiar pools of light that always seemed to hold a wealth of secrets. “You’ve seen me vulnerable, haven’t you? You’ve seen my true self, the parts of me that are fragile and real.”

With every word, Adam felt his defences begin to crack.

“Y-yeah, but... you could still be a trick,” he whispered, struggling to keep his resolve. “You know how these entities work. They can wear any mask, twist any form.”

Lucifer’s brow furrowed; his gaze unwavering. “You think I’d allow that? I wouldn’t let some other entity use my face, my voice, to manipulate you.”

“You mean too much to me for that,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.

Adam’s breath caught in his throat. The sincerity in Lucifer’s words felt like a warm embrace, wrapping around his heart and squeezing gently.

 “Choosing to be here with you. Choosing to connect with you.” Lucifer leaned in closer, their foreheads nearly touching. “You’re not just another human in this twisted place, Adam. You’re different. You see things, feel things that others overlook. Your curiosity, your compassion—those things matter to me. I want to help you.”

The warmth of Lucifer’s breath ghosted across Adam's lips, igniting a thrill deep within him.

“I…I don’t want to lose you,” he admitted, the vulnerability spilling out before he could stop it. “Not like everything else I’ve lost in this place.”

“You won’t lose me,” Lucifer replied softly, brushing his thumb across Adam’s cheek. “I promise I’ll protect you as much as I can. I’m not just some figment of your imagination or a cruel trick of this world. I’m real, Adam. I’m right here.”

The sincerity in his voice began to melt away the lingering doubts in Adam's mind. As they sat there, locked in each other’s gaze, a profound sense of trust began to blossom between them, fragile yet beautiful.

“Okay,” Adam breathed, taking a step back to gather himself. He gulped thickly, “O-Okay…”

“I can touch you?” Lucifer asked.

“Yes,” Adam said bravely, “Please touch me, Luci.”

Lucifer purred, his eyes growing darker and hungrier. He cupped his hand firmly over Adam’s hidden cock and watched intensively as Adam jumped, “Addie, you’re so hard~”

His hand began to caress the cock through the jeans, rolling his fingers purposely. Lucifer’s gaze never left Adam’s face, watching every reaction he made. He slid his hand upward, catching the zipper to Adam’s black hoodie and unzipped it. Lucifer’s fingers then pushed underneath his t-shirt, touching the soft flesh underneath, caressing the sensitive flesh of Adam’s under stomach.

Gasping, Adam trembled as Lucifer rolled his fingers downward, pushing underneath he waistband of Adam’s jeans.

“Adam,” Lucifer’s voice called sweetly, “I’m going to touch you now.”

Adam's eyelids fluttered, a symphony of sensations enveloped him. He whimpered and bit down on his bottom lip, glancing down his body and watching Lucifer’s hand. His body tingled with an electric anticipation, a sweet torment that left him breathless and wanting.

A soft gasp escaped his lips as he felt the heat of Lucifer's touch, a delicate exploration that set his soul ablaze. His chest rose and fell in sync with the rhythm of their shared breaths, a silent symphony of desire echoing in the air.

“Have you touched yourself?” Lucifer whispered, sliding his hands further downward. “Since entering the backrooms?”

Adam bit down on his bottom lip, his nerves dancing as he felt Lucifer’s touch, “No. Not in the backrooms.”

“So you’re backed up,” Lucifer purred, trailing his fingers even further inside Adam’s boxershorts, “What about outside the backrooms? How often did you touch yourself then?”

Lucifer’s hand was slow and delicate, sliding with care over the hair of his manhood. Adam jumped, gasping and tried not too but squirmed despite himself. 

“Of course I did,” Adam licked his lips and Lucifer immediately looked at his mouth, “I touched myself, um, often.”

Lucifer grinned, “Good to know you have a healthy sex drive then. Have anyone touched you like this before?”

“No,” Adam’s breath hitched when Lucifer’s hand suddenly touched his cock fully, “I’ve never had any luck with other people. Nobody likes me.”

Snorting, Lucifer frowned and watched as his hand touched Adam finally, brushing his fingertips along Adam’s penis. Lucifer’s own breath became trapped in his throat as Adam’s expression changed from the touch, the greenness of Adam’s eyes deepening in a sign of lust, something Lucifer had been yearning to see.

“Their lose then.”

Adam’s mouth opened but then clamped shit again and his eyebrows creased as if he was trying to dissect this new sensation. It felt so different to his own hand.

When Lucifer curled his hand fully around Adam’s penis, he gasped and moaned out. Lucifer giggled and slid his hand further up the sensitive spots of Adam’s cock, rolling his fingertips back and forth. Lucifer moved his hand slowly and delicately, rubbing his fingers skilfully. He watched Adam’s every reaction to his touch, making sure to burn it into his mind so he would never forget. When Adam appeared to relax further, his muscles unclenching, Lucifer slid his hand all the way up to the tip of the penis and back down repeatedly. 

“Does it feel good, Addie?” he whispered, leaning closer to Adam’s face, “Are you feeling good?”

Another moan escaped Adam and looked at Adam, his chest beginning to heave heavily. His hips beginning to rock up into Lucifer’s hand.

“Does it feel good, come on Addie, tell me?” Lucifer cooed, speeding up his touch.

Adam gasped, arching his back. He stared into Lucifer’s lovely and handsome face, watching as a soft blush appeared on Lucifer’s own cheeks. He couldn’t help himself; he leant forward and kissed Lucifer. Pushing his lips against Lucifer’s with another whimper escaping him.

Lucifer’s eyes widened in surprise, having not expected Adam to even attempt to kiss him. He immediately began to kiss Adam back, pushing him further into the wall he was sitting up again, while at the same time, he began to aggressively rub Adam’s cock.

“You’re close, aren’t you Addie~” Lucifer whispered against Adam’s mouth, “You’re so close aren’t you Addie, don’t fight it~”

Adam swallowed thickly; his mouth much too wet all of a sudden. His vision was beginning to blur from unleashed tears.

“Come for me, Addie~”

He pushed his mouth against Adam’s again, pushing his soft tongue into Adam’s. His hand caressed Adam’s cock more, forcing Adam to ride out his climax. Their lips moved together almost desperately, Adam’s tongue having no other choice but to dance with Lucifer’s. 

His hips were trembling, Adam felt as if his whole body was quivering. His insides twitching, jolting back and forth, unsure where it should settle. The orgasm hit him all at once. He had never had an orgasm like that before.

“You’re so cute Addie,” Lucifer cooed, withdrawing his hand.

Adam wheezed sharply, practically sobbing from his climax. He pulled Lucifer back into a kiss, his hands cupping Lucifer’s cherry-shaped face and whimpering as their tongues danced.

“Luci, Luci,” Adam chanted, pulling back with a bridge of saliva between their lips, “Can – Can I touch you too? Can I do something in return? Please let me?”

The warmest, sweetest dazzling smile curled across Lucifer’s face. His blue eyes seemed to glint, shimmering otherworldly and gave a sharp nod, “Of course you can, in fact, I would love for you to touch me.”

Touch?

Adam swallowed thickly and began to kiss Lucifer again. From the moment he met Lucifer, he found him too clean, too neat, too soft and angelic. Adam wanted to dirt him up, even just a little. His hands became tangled up in Lucifer’s t-shirt, tugging it upward slightly as he continued to kiss the blonde man.

It was just so Lucifer, fully and completely. He smelt lovely and Adam pushed Lucifer back onto his backside. His hot warm beginning to slide down Lucifer’s throat, running his teeth along the soft pale, flawless flesh. He ran his mouth over Lucifer’s t-shirt and then began to kiss and nip at Lucifer’s exposed stomach.

“Addie,” Lucifer whispered, clocking his head with a delicious pink face, “Oh, Addie, you’re so cute and beautiful~”

Hands tugging at Lucifer’s blue jeans, Adam pulled back to unbutton them and Lucifer raised his hips. Adam gently licked at Lucifer’s hidden cock, feeling it stir underneath his tongue, feeling it begin to harden. Tenderly, Adam eased Lucifer cock out and immediately began to lick at it. His warm lips making soft kisses along the heated skin.

A groan escaped Lucifer, his head flopping all the way back. He spread his thighs further and moaning as Adam began to bob his head, running his lips back and forth along Lucifer’s hard cock. He sucked on the tip and then sunk his mouth back down.

“Addie, you’re such a good boy like this. So pretty and endearing, with your cute lips wrapped around my cock~” Lucifer teased, running his fingers through Adam’s thick hair, “I knew you were the one, the moment I first met you, I know you were mine. You were the one I’ve been waiting for, you’re so special and precious.”

Adam groaned at the words, closing his eyes and just focusing on sucking Lucifer off. He wanted Lucifer to feel good.

“My Addie~” Lucifer purred, arching hips as he felt himself reaching that point, “Fuck, Addie, you’re making me come~”

He froze as he felt Lucifer come. Adam’s green eyes brightened as he pulled and swallowed the bitter liquid in his mouth. He met Lucifer’s eyes and smiled shyly, “Did that feel good?”

“Fuck yes,” the blonde man purred, fixing his cock back into his jeans and then pulling Adam into another kiss. His tongue plugging into Adam��s mouth hungrily, “Addie, you’re so perfect for me.”

Adam’s breath hitched as Lucifer’s warm hand rested on his stomach, his touch soft but possessive, fingertips brushing lightly over his skin as though savouring every inch. Lucifer hummed, his voice low and almost melodic, eyes fixed on Adam’s stomach with a strange, adoring gleam.

“Oh, Addie,” he murmured, stroking slow, gentle circles. “You feel so soft, so perfect. Just imagine… seeing you round and lovely, holding something so precious… something of mine.”

Adam’s cheeks flushed a deep crimson as he squirmed under the touch, his mind whirling. “Luci… I’m a guy, remember? That’s… that’s not exactly possible.”

Lucifer’s grin widened, the warmth in his smile shifting into something sharper, almost otherworldly, as though he were looking at Adam with an unquenchable hunger.

“Ah, but dreams are allowed, aren’t they, Addie?” he whispered, his voice wrapping around Adam’s senses like silk. “And you—you’re like a dream come to life.”

Adam’s blush deepened, his gaze flicking to his stomach as a strange, sweet warmth filled him.

“You… really like the idea of that?” he asked shyly.

With a dazzling smile, Lucifer dropped to his knees, inching closer as he leaned Adam against the wall. His hands framed Adam’s hips, holding him in place, his eyes gleaming with something intense and deep. Gently, he nipped at Adam’s lower lip, the soft pressure of his teeth sending a shiver through him.

“Oh, yes, Addie,” he whispered, his voice like a promise. “I want to see you full, glowing, carrying a part of me. I want you as mine, with a family of our own. And I’ll never let anything take you from me, not now… not ever.”

Adam’s heart pounded, feeling caught in the pull of Lucifer’s strange, intoxicating affection, a warmth that left him feeling claimed and protected all at once, bound by a love that felt timeless yet dangerously unyielding.

Adam’s heart thudded painfully in his chest as he felt the cold realization settle over him. Lucifer’s hand on his stomach, the odd look in his eyes—it all started to make sense in a way that terrified and captivated him.

“L-Luci…” he stammered, feeling the shiver trace up his spine, “Are… are you…”

Lucifer tilted his head, an innocent gleam in his eyes, though his smile didn’t reach them. “Am I what, Addie?” His voice was soft, the tone almost tender, but there was a faint edge that left Adam feeling exposed, as though he were standing on the edge of something vast and incomprehensible.

Swallowing hard, Adam pressed his lips into a thin line. His gaze didn’t waver as he forced himself to meet Lucifer’s eyes, his voice a trembling whisper.

 “You’re not human, are you?” Adam breathed; his voice barely audible. “You’re… you’re Entity 1000, aren’t you?”

Lucifer’s smile grew, a slow, almost predatory curve of his lips as he raised a hand, fingers grazing Adam’s cheek with unsettling gentleness. His touch was as warm as it was chilling.

“Oh, Addie,” he murmured, his voice slipping into that familiar, melodic purr, “Does that frighten you?”

 His thumb brushed over Adam’s cheekbone in a way that could’ve been comforting, but there was something behind it, an intent he couldn’t quite place. Lucifer’s blue eyes sparkled, the depths of them seeming endless, almost as if they held all the secrets of the Backrooms within their depths.

“Or… does it make you curious?”

Adam shuddered, torn between the part of him that wanted to pull away and the other part, the one that held onto every word, fascinated despite himself.

Lucifer’s grin stretched wider, an eerie gleam lighting up his twisted features as his six, towering wings loomed over Adam. They were far from angelic, looking torn and demonic, with edges that flickered as though glitching in and out of reality. His blue eyes had darkened, swirling with crimson and gold, and from his head sprouted sharp, twisted horns, cracked at the top, forming a hauntingly beautiful yet sinister halo.

Adam’s breath hitched, his eyes wide with terror as he pressed himself back against the wall, heart pounding erratically. The charming smile he’d known was replaced with something terrifying and intense. Lucifer’s entire form exuded an overpowering energy, one that left Adam feeling small, trapped, and utterly vulnerable.

Lucifer leaned in close, his twisted grin revealing rows of glittering, razor-sharp teeth.

“Are you frightened, Addie?” he whispered, his voice curling around Adam like a shadow, chilling and entrancing all at once. “I wanted you to see me as I truly am.”

Adam swallowed, his entire body trembling. He nodded faintly, his mind racing with what Lute had warned him about—Lucifer was more than just a friend, more than a mysterious companion. He was an entity, the most powerful, and everything he’d ever feared in the Backrooms. He created this endless nightmare to amuse himself. A small whimper escaped Adam’s lips.

“Were you just… using me for entertainment?” he asked, his voice cracking.

Lucifer cupped Adam’s face, his touch both unsettlingly gentle and possessive.

“No,” he cooed, his voice softening as he gazed into Adam’s terrified eyes. “I didn’t use you, Addie. I felt you the moment you entered the Backrooms. You called out to me, remember? You introduced yourself, and I knew then—you were mine.”

Adam’s pulse quickened, panic mixing with an odd feeling he couldn’t quite place, something that left him speechless.

“W-What do you want?” he stammered weakly, unable to break away from Lucifer’s intense gaze.

Lucifer’s smile twisted into something darkly possessive, his eyes glinting with an otherworldly hunger.

“I want to make you mine completely,” he whispered, his voice dropping to a guttural, dangerous tone. “I want to breed you, Addie, to fill you with my essence and create something that’s ours.”

“I-I-“

“Addie, I’m going to breed you, now.”

[codfanficedits]

Cheating Ghost, full version.

I've always posted this in the parts as I wrote them, this is the full story. This story came to mind after I've suffered childhood abuse, and now my brother is following in the footsteps of my father.

Also, happy birthday to me.

CW: Domestic Violence, mentions of sex/describing sexual acts, mentions of rape.

18+ MDNI.

Ghost POV:

My hands on her hips, my lips leaving hickeys on her neck, my hard cock against her stomach. It all felt so right. Expect she wasn’t you. She was better than you, sexier, hotter, willing to try all the positions you wouldn’t do. She looked at me with the most hypnotizing eyes when I called her a good girl, those same eyes sparked when I called her my filthy slut. She was everything you couldn’t be for me. The first few times I felt incredibly guilty, I would spent minutes watching over you when you slept, cursing myself for being so weak, but as time passed, my heart stopped aching. Instead your flaws were showing even more. I knew you too well for you to be ever exciting again, I knew the way your lips tasted, the way your body felt on mine, I could predict your every move.

It took me 2 extra days to come home to you again. I had been dreading the moment, waiting until the very last moment to come home. Her smell still wrapped around my body as I set foot into our bedroom.

YOUR POV:

You and Ghost have been together for three years. You moved across the country for him, 10 days after you met him. You had been at his side ever since. You were there after the good missions, the bad missions and the failed mission. You were there to kiss his bruises, to hold him while he cried about a fallen teammate, you were there to celebrate every success he had in his career.

But lately things had changed. His mission taking longer than you were used to, him being more distant, no longer sharing the details of a mission with you. The first few weeks you tried to ignored it, thought it was because of a bad mission, but after a while you couldn’t ignore it anymore. Something was going on. Ghost was away on a mission when you received a text from one of his teammates, telling you he had seen Ghost leave with another woman. It left your heart shattered. You wouldn’t believe it at first, Ghost would never do this to you. But you knew it would fit, it was the missing piece of information to tie all of his odd behaviour together. You tried to ignore it at first, until the place you used to call home, was no longer appealing to return to. You could hear him set foot into the bedroom. You waited, pretending to sleep so you wouldn’t have to face him. He just stood there, as if he was waiting for you to make the first move. “Hey..” You said, making your voice sound hoarse. “How long have you been standing there?” You ask him.

“I was just admiring the view.” He answered. The fucking liar. You kick back the blankets and pat on the bed. “Come here, I’ve missed you.”

He starts to undress, and you pretend you don’t see the hickeys on his happy trail. Looking at it makes me feel sick. He slides in to bed with me, and you can feel the distance. “How was the mission?” You ask, your fingertips caressing his jawline, like you always do. “Oh you know, same old, same old.” He tells you. You can smell her on him, her perfume smells floral and expensive. He didn’t even have the respect for you to at least take a shower before coming home to you. You roll over to your other side, “let’s go to sleep, you must be tired, baby.” You say.

He wraps his arm around you, pulling you close and kissing your neck. Her perfume invading your bed, his erection pressed against you. “How about we have some fun first, hm?”

 You don’t know what makes you feel sicker. “I’m really tired, sorry.” You say, being too disgusted to even feel horny.

“Fine.” His voice got cold and he rolled away from you, refusing to touch you. Fine.

Your mind was racing, trying to make up a good excuse for him, it was trying to diffuse the situation. Surely there must be a logical explanation? He had fallen asleep next to you, you were wondering how he even could sleep at night. Maybe you were wrong. Maybe he.. Maybe he.. But your mind couldn’t come up with a good reason, it was way to easy to connect the dots. But you needed to know for sure.

You saw the screen of his phone light up. Bingo.

Careful to not wake him, you got up from bed, slowly taking his phone from the nightstand, trying to not make a sound. You snuck his phone into the bathroom, you tried to unlock it, his passcode was your birthday for ages. Access denied. You frown, maybe you made a mistake typing it. You try again, this time even more careful. Access denied.        

Fuck.

You decided to type his own birthday, maybe he just happened to change it? It worked. As you scrolled through the messages you couldn’t really find anything. Soap sending him some memes. Captain Price reacting with two thumbs on everything Ghost send him. Gaz sending him pictures of food. Even their group chat was innocent.

You scrolled through everything. Until you found a hidden folder with pictures. Your eyes widened by the view. The pictures started looking innocent. Just some nudes, nothing too special. You could live with this.

Then they became more graphic. She was sitting on her knees, her tongue stuck out, semen on her face. You guess whose it was. You swiped again. It was her again, lying on a bed, looking at the camera with her hungry eyes.

A video. Against your better judgement you click on it. Your heart drops when you do so. He was fucking her like there was no tomorrow. She was on all fours, her face down, her ass up. You could tell by his pace that he was about to cum.

She helped it put it in again when it slipped out of her. It made you sick to your stomach. Yet you can’t stop watching. You’re torturing yourself. You can see his thick semen being shot on her back. You could imagine him grunting while he did so. You watch it again, pressing the volume button once. The sounds made you sick to your stomach, but your eyes were glued to the screen. The grunting was as you imagined, they were dancing with her moans. His voice cracked when he called her beautiful and you could feel your heart shatter.

A large hand slaps the phone out of your hand. “Do you always snoop through phones that aren’t yours?” A deep voice growled.

“Simon, what the fuck is this?” You ask. “What the FUCK is this?’ You yell at him.

“Oh come on, it’s nothing big.” He answered. “I’ve always been there for you!” You start to raise your voice again. “With every mission, good or bad. I have ALWAYS been by your side.”

His hand grabs your wrist. “Are you going to fucking behave?” He hisses in your ear. “Quit being a fucking drama queen.”

“Why? How could you?” Your voice sound defeated. He laughs at you. “Oh come on. You became boring. I can tell how you react at everything. It’s no longer exciting or new anymore.” He scoffs. He takes a step towards you. “Did you really think I loved you? Jezus Christ, you’re so fucking naïve.”

His words cut through you like knifes. Part of you wanted to change for him, be a more exciting person, anything so he wouldn’t leave you. But you weren’t stupid. You knew there was no coming back from this.

“I need you to get the fuck out of here.” You hissed. “Go sleep at Price or something.”

It was his laugh that sent the shivers down your spine. “I have to get out of here? Do I need to remind you this is my house? Take the few fucking things you own and get out before I kick you out.”

With tears in your eyes you grabbed your bag. You stuffed it with some clothes, your phone, your laptop and your wallet. He is right behind you when you walked out. Not saying a word to you. When you turned around to beg him to let you stay, his cold eyes told you enough. He slammed the door in your face. Leaving you all alone.

Ghost POV:

Of course I didn’t want it to end like this. She was always the safe option, but at least something was better than nothing.

I grab my phone, calling the girl I had been fucking for the past few months. A frustrated grunt leaves my throat when she doesn’t pick up. So I call again, and again until she finally picks up.

“What the fuck do you want?” She hisses at me. “It’s fucking 4 in the morning.” I let out an amused chuckle. I loved it when she was so feisty. “My girlfriend is gone for the night, and I don’t expect her home until noon. Care to come around?” I asked her. It’s quiet at the other side of the line and it is making me feel rejected. I hate that fucking feeling. “Well?” I ask, trying to hide the annoyance in my tone.

“You have a girlfriend?” The woman on the other side hissed. “You’re such a fucking pathetic man.”

I was taken aback by her reaction, where did she get the nerve to trat me like this? After all, she was nothing more than my toy. A toy I used to pass the time, but she didn’t let me answer her, her angry rant going on. “You’re a horrible, horrible man, if I had known you had a girl waiting for you, I would’ve never let you touch me.” She continued. “Lose the number, you fucking asshole.”

She hung up on me. The fucking bitch had the audacity to hang up on me? I scoffed. I didn’t need a stupid fucking toy anyway. I had you to come back to. After all, you always came back to me, no matter how much I fucked up.

I sat down on the couch, my fingers lingering over the screen of my phone. Fuck it.

“When are you coming home?” I texted you.

5 minutes. Five whole minutes had passed and you still didn’t text me back. Usually you’d text me back within seconds, like a fucking needy dog.

“Listen, I’m sorry you feel this way. I can change. I promise” I texted you again.

8 minutes. It had been eight minutes since my first text, and you didn’t hadn’t sent me anything back. It caused me to pace around my living room like a caged animal.

“Please come home, I miss you.” I texted, once more. It started to irritate me that you didn’t answer, but I couldn’t let you know.

14 minutes. The anger was getting to me. What the fuck were you doing? It was 4:28AM. You couldn’t possibly be doing something useful.

“Get your fucking ass home.”

???? POV:

He had known Ghost was a cheater, but he always tried to ignore it. Until he met you. God, you were gorgeous. It pained him that you only had eyes for Ghost. He fell in love with you the first time he met you. The way you walked, talked, your smile. Your beauty was out of this world.

But of course you were in love with Ghost. Ghost was everything he wasn’t. Mysterious, handsome, tall, confident, a deep, hoarse voice. So he hid in the shadows. He wanted you to be happy, even if it wasn’t with him.

But the guilt began to eat at him when Ghost started cheating on you, bringing some blondie back to the base after a mission. Her loud moans filling the empty halls. He couldn’t ignore it anymore after Ghost had brought back the second girl, but he was to afraid to tell you. It took him two more years to finally find the courage to tell you. He couldn’t even do it face to face. No, he texted you, like a coward.

But he had finally told you and that is what mattered.

He started to hate Ghost for this. The idiot had the most precious woman in the world and he tossed it out of the window for a little thrill.

His heart skipped a beat when he saw your text. You’d gone through his phone, and now he had kicked you out?

Damn.

A feeling of guilt washed over him, if he hadn’t told you, you’d be safe and sound in your bed, not wandering the streets at 4 in the morning.

He texted you his address, offering you a place to come to if you were lonely.

Your POV:

You felt alone. So god damn alone. You’d left everything, everyone behind to move in with Simon.

There was nothing you wanted more than to get back to Simon, to feels his strong arms around you again, but you weren’t stupid. You knew those arms would never feel like home again. You knew you’d never trust him again. The common sense in your body told you, you were worth too much to worry about him, but the love you felt for him tried to prove your common sense wrong, still. You could change for him, right? You could try to be less boring, to be less predictable.

A nearby bench in the park became your new place to stay, just so you could gather your thoughts. The bag you’d been carrying with you got dropped on the ground. A big sigh followed. How does one even go from here? Back to Simon was not an option, you refused to be his second choice.

Your phone buzzed. It was Simon, asking you when you would come home. Your heart skipped a beat. He still cared about you. Of course he did, otherwise he wouldn’t be texting you! You’re trying to convince yourself, but it’s not working. Something is different. For once, your love ending didn’t seem like such a bad idea.

You fidget with your phone, ignoring the messages that come rolling in. You pressed the phone against your lips, your mind working overtime. What was it that you wanted?

After what seemed like forever you make a decision. You don’t want to be alone, not right now, so you decide to text him. Not Simon, no, he wasn’t worthy of your presence. You text the person who tipped you, after all, he had always told you he would be there for you if you needed him. It takes every ounce of your selfcontrol to not text him the whole story, so you give him a short update. 3,5 minutes. That’s how long it took for him to answer you. It’s just his address, and you take it as an invite that you’re welcome. As you open the navigation on your phone, it shows you that it is just a ten minute walk. Perfect for you to clear your head, so you wouldn’t be all in your feelings when you got to him.

It's 5:25 AM and the sun is starting to rise again. For a moment the world doesn’t seem so bad after all.

Your hands shake as you ring the doorbell. The door swings open almost immediately.

Johnny.

Ghost POV:

I was starting to lose it. You’d come online, but you didn’t read my texts? How dare you? Where the fuck do you think you have the audacity from to ignore me?

I texted you again.

“At least have some fucking respect and answer me.”

An uneasy feeling starts to linger in my stomach, causing me to pace around the living room. What if you really did decide to leave this time? No, you wouldn’t. I was sure of that. But then why didn’t you answer me?

No it shouldn’t bother me this much. I can just go to the bar and pick up a better version of you, a prettier one, a more adventurous one. Then you did the thought of you leaving me sting so much?

I lose my temper, and an empty teacup flings across the room, against the wall. The brown liquid dripping down.

A few deep breaths and I should be okay again. Wrong.

The uneasy feeling in my chest stays and there is nothing that I can do against it. Why would you do this to me? Why did you have to make things so hard? Why couldn’t you just come home when I asked you to?

God, you’re being a pain in my ass right now. Making such a fuss, and for what? Because I had a little fun? That was your fault really, you had always been a little boring, why couldn’t you just be a little spicier in life.

And now your behaviour is making me feel bad? I don’t think so. I sent you a final text.

“You’re gonna get it when you get home.”

Soap POV:

He was waiting in the living room for her, nearly falling over his own feet as he made his way to the front door. The sight of you standing there, with your broken heart is the hardest thing he had to watch.

‘Even in her agony, God is jealous of her beauty.’ Soap pushed that thought away, he wasn’t here to hit on you, he was here to be the friend you needed. He stepped aside to let you in. “It’s not much, but it’s safe.” He said, gesturing around his living room. It was clear a single man lived here, the pizza box from last night still on the table, his dirty socks and shoes next to the couch. A sheepish smile on his face, hoping that you wouldn’t judge him too much.

He was mesmerized by your eyes, but he could see the sadness, the hurt in them, and it made his heart ache.

He signalled for you to sit on the couch, handing you a beer, his own in his hand, as he took place in his recliner, wanting to keep a distance. There was a silence between the two of you, but to him it didn’t feel awkward at all. It felt like coming safe home after a long, stressful day.

He glanced over at you. You looked so fragile on his couch, a large pillow being used as a shield, as your gaze met his. A nervous smile.

Your phone buzzed, and he could see it was from Ghost, his eyes narrowing as he read the text. “At least have some fucking respect and answer me.”

But you were strong and you didn’t pay any mind to his text, you tossed the phone next to you and met his gaze once more.

Then the words started to pour out, and you told him everything. How you couldn’t believe it at first, how you finally started to connect the dots. How Ghost dared to come home smelling like another woman, the video you had watched. He took an occasional sip from his beer every now and then.

With every full sentence he could see your mind working overtime, telling you to not go back to that relationship anymore. It made his heart beat faster in his chest.

As if it’s natural the conversation shifts to a lighter one, as if you want to leave Ghost and the darkness that he brings with him in the past, and Soap was happy to oblige.

You tell him about your job, your hobbies, your favourite crystals and he takes in all the information as if it is the most important thing he has ever heard.

Your phone buzzed again and the both of you look at it at the same time.

“You’re gonna get it when you get home.”

Those words made Soap’s stomach drop, he had always known that Ghost had a temper, a bad one, but even this felt low for Ghost. He looked over at you, expecting to see fear in your face, but instead you just laughed. As if you were freed from the chackles Ghost had put on you.

“Shit.” Your voice sounded like giggle. “I should really put him in his place for speaking to me in this tone.”

‘God, her laugh could light up a room without trying.’

No stop, he shouldn’t think like that.

Maybe it was the beer talking, maybe it was the lack of common sense from the whole situation, but he had an idea. An idea that would put Ghost in his place.

“Come with me.” Soap told you, as he made him way to his bedroom. It was surprisingly tidy compared to his living room. Sure, the bed wasn’t made, and his backpack was casually tossed into the corner, and now that he looked around, his nightstand were a mess too. But the dirty socks were limited to the bathroom only and that was something.

“I need you to trust me, I’m not a pervert, I promise.” Soap was rambling, a treat he had when he got nervous. He swallowed some air before he started explaining. “I need you to get on my bed on all fours, I promise I won’t look okay.” The rambling continued.

You didn’t even question it, you just did what he asked you to do. He took a step closer to your ass, his breathing getting hard to control. “Look at the wall.” He muttered. The shadow being rather, suggestive.

‘Life was an artist and you were the fucking masterpiece.’

He couldn’t help but look down at you, the sight of you presenting yourself like this, God it got him hard, the blood going straight to his growing erection. He dug his nails into the palm of his hand, he had to contain himself.

You handed him your phone, allowing him to take a picture. If he didn’t know any better the shadow suggested he was actually fucking you. The thought of how tight you would be, how good you would take it, it was flooding his mind. Shit shit shit. He needed to stop.

He handed you your phone back, stepping aside, it would drive him insane if he kept looking at your ass.

Soap looked over your shoulder as you sent Ghost the picture. A grin on your face when you started to type.

‘Sorry, I was busy.’

Ghost POV:

It has been more than a fucking hour since I’ve sent my last text, and yet you lack the fucking respect to answer me. You’re a fucking worthless waste of air.

I look over at the table when my phone buzzed. “Sorry, I was busy?” I repeat your text to myself. My fingers are quick to open the picture you sent me.

My phone buzzed. A text from you.

No, no, no, no, NO.

I could feel my stomach drop from that picture. You’re a fucking disgusting slut and you know it. How the fuck dare you? After all we’ve been together you’re throwing us away like this? How fucking dare you?

My anger gets the best of me. I want you to be hurt. I want to take away the things you like. I want to see you cry, beg me for the mercy you don’t deserve.

In a blind rage I pull out the cutlery drawer in the kitchen, I was looking for some scissors but couldn’t find them, so I took our kitchen knife. The fucking stuffed animal I had won for you at the fair was the first to go. God it felt so good to take my anger out on something. Besides, who the fuck has a stuffed unicorn?

The rest of your clothes became my second target, a maniacal laugh leaving my throat as I could hear the fabric rip under the force of my knife. Shit it felt good, too good even. For a second I would imagine you there instead of your clothes and the rage would leave my body, but it’s temporary, I want to destroy you.

If I can’t have you, no one should have you.

My hands tremble when I look at the picture again. My eyes widen when I recognize the room, I recognize his fucking backpack, the idiotic sunglasses on his fucking nightstand.

God fucking damn.

My best fucking friend. The fucking son of a bitch.

Where the fuck did the two of you get the fucking nerve to betray me like this?

Granted, Soap had been more distance towards me since I’ve started to cheat on you, but he never had a problem with it during my last relationship. This must’ve been his idea. Letting you catch me cheating, so I’m the bad guy, while you’re getting your pussy pounded by that fucking traitor.

I’m angry, furious even. Part of me wants to take the knife and stab the both of you, watching as the life leaves your eyes. I can feel the rage boil inside of me.

A sudden wave of relief washes over me. I know what I have to do.

I leave the knife in our matrass, I don’t even grab my jacket. I know the way to his house, it’s a short walk and I know what I’ll find when I get there. You all loveydovey in his arms, as the goddamn slut that you are.

The walk there pisses me off even more, it gives me the time to think about you, about that fucking traitor of a man I used to call a friend.

My fists bang on the door. “Soap! I know you’re in there with this filthy whore.” My voice is a mere bark.

“Be a fucking man and face me.”

Your POV:

You had nearly forgotten about Simon. Not really obviously, you knew you still had to face him one day. Half of your belongings were still at that house. But for now, for now you could forget him. Soap’s bedroom was filled with laughter, you had more in common than you thought, memories, hobbies, even the same dishes you liked.

Although he liked olives, and the mere thought of them was enough to make you shudder.

Soap was in the middle of a story about Captain Price, something about his hidden porn stash when three loud bangs made the both of you quiet. It was unmistaken who’s voice it was. It felt as if a hand had reached out to your throat, squeezing it shit. Your eyes pleaded to Soap, begging him to stay in his bedroom with you. Surely Simon would leave, right? Right?

The banging got louder, more violent, his profanities carrying out over the street. All you wanted was for the ground to break open and swallow you whole.

“I have to face him.”

“What? No Johnny that’s ridiculous.”

“He won’t leave, I can just explain what happened. I’ll tell him you don’t want to see him.”

“But he sounds dangerous.”

“I’ve known him for years, lass. I’ll be fine.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

You couldn’t ignore the knot in your stomach, the horrible feeling as if something was bound to happen, Soap had closed the door behind him, as if he wanted to shield you from what was about to happen. You hid away in the corner, your knees brought up to your chest, as if you wanted to make yourself as tiny as possible.

You could hear the door open. Soap’s voice was the first to be heard. “Hey man, I know this looks ba-“ His sentence got cut short.

Something was happening, but you couldn’t make out what it was. The closed door muffled the sounds to much.

Yet the sounds of a person falling was clear to you. A man begging another man to stop, the faint sound of fists hitting their target.

Your bag.

It was still on the couch, you knew it was there, all you could do was to pray that Simon didn’t find it.

Your mind was racing, where had you put your phone? You knew it was in this room, somewhere, you had used it to text him that picture.

Oh god, why did you do that?

This was all happening because you just had to be petty. Johnny was getting murdered and you were having a pity party. Selfish bitch.

You had to find that fucking phone. Call someone. Call the police even.

But you were too scared. Afraid that if you were to move, Simon would hear you and come for you.

The sounds of footsteps on the stairs snapped you out of it. You wanted it to be Soap, you really did, but you knew it was Simon. “I know you’re in there you fucking filthy slut!”

You pressed yourself against the wall, hoping that you could blend in, maybe disappear while you’re at it.

The bedroom door swings open, and the man before you is no longer the man you once loved. His eyes are wide, his nostrils flared, a predator looking at his prey.

You can hear the soft groans coming from downstairs. You want to escape, you want to leave, but your body betrays you.

“Simon, I, I, I.” You start to stutter. His hands grab a handful of hair, forcing you to look up at him.

“You really thought you were smart, huh?” He hisses through his gritted teeth. He lets go of your hair, and for a second you think you can breathe. That was a mistake.

His right fist hits you, then his left, right, left, right, left, right. Until you start to lose count.

You hold up your arms to defend yourself, but it’s useless. He is trained to do this, and you’re his target.  

You start to beg him, beg him for your life, but you can tell he is enjoying this, your tears, the fear in your eyes, it is nothing but fuel to his anger.

His hands grab your hair again, dragging you towards the bed. You’re too stunned, too terrified to even react.

The sound of his zipper going down makes your eye widen in fear. “I’ll show you who the fuck you belong to.” He hisses at you.

It is Soap who stumbles into the room that make the both of you look up. God. He looks horrible, he looks as if he was dragged through hell and back. The pain is visible in his eyes, the blood on his face, the red marks on his body.

A broken promise.

Ghost let’s out an annoyed grunt. “I’ll take care of our little problem.” He whispers into your ear. His voice, the tone, the words, it sends shivers down your spine. The sound of his zipper going back up is a blessing and a curse.

You’re safe, for now.

You can only watch in horror when you can see Ghost make his way over to Soap. You want to react. Your mind is screaming at you to do something. But your body can’t.

It seemed as if time was slowing down. The sunset slowing illuminating the room you’re in. The tension in the thick air. It looks like a horrible nightmare, one you wish to wake up from.

You’re held captive by your own body and mind. No control over what you’re thinking or doing, it makes you feel helpless.

Deep breaths, deep breaths, deep breaths. Snap out of that freeze response, no more freezing. You need to fight or you need to get out. Go. Go. Go.

Your body handles on it’s own, despite the pain you’re in, you manage to get up, stumbling over your own feet.

Get out or fight.

It’s the gunshot that follows next, that puts you into freeze again.

Your POV:

Ghost looked at his hands, he was visibly confused by the blood on them. His blood?

Your hands are shaking, your mind goes back to a date you and Ghost went on 2,5 years ago.

It was a sunny day, and he was so excited to take you there. He had been talking about it for a few weeks and you finally decided to give in.

Who would have thought a silly little date to a shooting range would save your life one day?

Not you, not Ghost.

You had spotted the gun in Soap’s backpack, the will to survive took over, your body snapping out of your freeze mode before your mind was able to.

“That’s a good lass.” A Scottish accent broke the silence.

Ghost dropped to his knees, his hands pressing on the gunshot wound. So much was happening at once, yet you tried to take control over the situation once again. Your hands tremble as you load another bullet into the chamber.

“Stay down or I’ll fucking shoot again.” Oh how you try to be confident, but the words are a mere whisper as the tears start to roll down your cheek. You try not to choke on your shallow breaths.

The tension in the air is horrible. You can tell Soap is holding on for dear life, not knowing how to continue. You can tell that Ghost is defeated, as if the shot held a mirror in front of him, he was no better than his father and he knew it.

And you, standing there. Holding on to that pistol for dear life, your knuckles white from the tight grip.

A few loud bangs, a loud voice, a small army of police men joining you in the room, the rest of the day a blur.

You didn’t exactly look innocent, holding a loaded weapon, pointing it to an already wounded man.

And God, for the first time you felt lucky. You could show the texts he had sent you, the way he had torn up the place you used to call home, you had only shot him once, and it was a non-lethal shot.. It all ruled in your favour, the judges ruled it self-defence.

Ghost on the other hand didn’t get as lucky, all the evidence pointed in his direction, even after you’d shot him.

Although the sentence he got was a joke.

Sixty days.

He would spent two months in jail for traumatizing you, for harming you, for destroying what belonged to you, for harming Soap, for making your home feel unsafe.

Just sixty days.

But, for sixty whole days you felt safe. You knew he wouldn’t be lurking around the corner, you knew that for sixty whole days you could breathe again.

Ghost POV:

I lost it all. And for what? For a little toy, for a little smile, for a little weak moment. Sixty goddamn days of my life.

It wasn’t even worth it. It made me lose the job I worked so hard for. Price didn’t want to hear shit after I got my sentence. I tried to explain how it wasn’t really my fault. After all, you and Soap had planned this. No matter how innocent you tried to act in court. I knew what had happened.

I really tried to live with my anger. I had to go to therapy, but that was a waste of my fucking time. I have one little outburst and all of the sudden I am the problem?

I had to sell the house, because of you. Everything reminded me of you, at night I thought I saw you stand in the doorway, I swear I could hear your footsteps, your laugh, your voice. But you were never there. It haunted me, you know that? So I sold it, bought another house. Tried to forget about you. The money I had made during my time in the military, it lasted me a long time. I didn’t have to work, no I could drown my sorrows in liquor and hookers. The funny thing was, money doesn’t last, just like we didn’t.

And I really tried. I tried to get new jobs, but they would never last. God, people are morons and I just cannot deal with them. Do you know how hard it is to keep your house when you’re not able to keep a goddamn job? And furthermore, do you know how hard it is to keep a relationship when you’re not able to hold a job, when the bills are stacking up?

God, and even if I could hold a job, I’m not able to keep a relationship, I keep searching for a piece of you. Even when they’re a perfect match, they’re still not you.

I hate myself for letting you go, I crave how predictable you were, I crave your touch, your voice, you.

Yet at the same time, I am so angry at you for taking everything from me. I deserve better than this. You took everything I worked so hard for.

The anger is tucked away, for now. It reappears whenever I hit the bottle. Everything I’ve been holding in comes out then. It’s not a pretty sight when I get my shit together again, it makes me feel ashamed.

Your little action has made me unable to look into the mirror. I see my fathers eyes whenever my eyes linger to long on the man I see in the mirror. I became what I hated the most and I can only blame you for it.

I even tried to make up with the last woman, the one you found the video of. I went to her house, tried to explain myself. I even apologised for calling her my toy. She had the audacity to laugh at me. She told me to fuck right off. Hell, she even pulled her girlfriend to her side when I asked for a second chance. It left me broken. Not even my back up wanted me anymore.

Lately I’ve been wandering the streets, as a soul without a purpose. I avoid the large windows, I cannot stand to see my reflection in them, the shell of the man I was supposed to be. I had such a good life ahead of me, but it was all ruined. My days are filled with sorrow and time is slipping through my fingers.

It is a good day, a beautiful day, so I decide to go to the park, maybe it would ease my mind, before I would go home and get drunk again. I wander around in the park, aimlessly, the sun on my skin is a nice feeling, it beats the feeling of feeling sorry for myself.

My heart skips a beat when I see you. You’re standing close to the water, and I can’t tell what you’re saying to the man in front of you, but you look happy. The clothes you’re wearing fit your body perfectly, and truth be told, you look better than you’ve ever looked before.

God I miss you. I miss you so goddamn much. I start to make my way over to you, I want to talk to you, maybe there is a new chance for us to be together. The guy you’re with can suck it, I can show you what you deserve.

My blood runs cold when I see the man in front of you go down on one knee.

No.

Your POV:

You never stepped foot into that house again, you tried, but the tea stained wall was enough for you to back down. All your belongings you had left behind were things you could replace.

But that wasn’t your biggest worry. Soap had risked his life for you, and for what? Because you needed to prove a point to Simon? You felt so, so, so goddamn guilty. Luckly for the both of you, Soap ‘only’ had two broken ribs, a black eye and a few other bruises. You both knew it could have ended different.

Soap was a kind soul, and you knew it. He offered you a place to stay when you couldn’t go back to the place you once called home. He insisted on taking the couch, even with his injuries. He insisted that you were the one who deserved to sleep in his bed after everything you had been through.

In return you made him breakfast every day. The man was a sucker for fresh pancakes, scrambled eggs, bacon, maple syrup. All of them together, or just one of those things. It didn’t matter to him, as long as it was something you had cooked, this man was content.

What started as just breakfast, quickly became dinner too, lunch followed shortly  after. Although Soap slept on the couch, he wouldn’t hesitate to come running up the stairs when he could hear you having a nightmare, eventually you’d start having flashbacks of that morning. The events repeating themselves in your mind time after time, leaving you frozen in place.

Soap was there for you, no questions asked. He was on medical leave anyway, and he wanted to care for you, protect you. He would always be there when the nightmares or flashbacks started. Holding you, grounding you, bringing you back into reality every time.

After one particular flashback the two of you stayed on the couch, even though it was late at night. You didn’t dare to go to sleep, worried that the nightmares would keep you up again, and Soap wasn’t going to let you out of his sight.

The next thing you knew was that you woke up with him in your arms. His head resting on your shoulder as you held him tight. The best part of it all? It never felt awkward. When he finally woke up he had a boyish grin on his face.

“Best night of sleep I’ve had in a while.” He told you, before he gave you some space again. “How about I make you some pancakes this time?”

You had always thought that Ghost made you feel at home, but Soap.. Holy shit, Soap was something else. When the night fell that day and it was time to go to bed you held your hand out to him, he didn’t have to sleep on the couch anymore. Not if it was up to you anyway.

You could tell he was hesitant to take your hand. “I want you to, no, I need you to know you don’t have to do this to pay me back in any way, shape or form.” He began. You shushed him. This wasn’t about paying him back, this was about the feeling that had began to grow inside your heart.

He responded with a simple kiss on your nose. A token of appreciation.

It was the start of something beautiful, Soap was so much kinder than Ghost had ever been to you. Because it was Soap who woke you up with a thousand and one kisses on every inch of skin he could get his hands on, it was Soap who made sure you were always comfortable, no matter where you were or what you were doing. It was Soap who made sure you would at least get a text every day when he was on a mission, it was Soap who hid little love notes around the house when he was away.

Soap brought you stones from the missions he had been on, always proudly telling you how he picked the prettiest rocks, just for you. Even when he was away on missions, he always made sure you never, ever felt lonely.

He had just come home after he went to a little bakery to get you both breakfast, so you could sleep in.

“I saw some ducklings in the park when I walked back.” He told you, before he took a bite of his croissant.

“Really?” Your voice is filled with excitement. “Can we check them out after breakfast?”

“Only if I get a kiss first.”

“Deal!”

“Ah shoot, I should’ve asked for more.” The Scot pouted while he stole your last piece of pastry.

“Hey! That was mine.”

“Sorry lass, boyfriend tax.” He grinned as he swallowed the stolen bite.

“Now.” A devilish grin formed on his lips. “You still owe me a kiss.”

A laugh escapes your lips before he kisses you, his strong arms wrapped around you, as your hands rest on his waist. “That was worth all the ducklings in the world.” He whispers to you as he presses a quick kiss on your forehead.

“Come little lass, before those ducklings are fully grown ducks.”

He doesn’t let go off your hand for the whole walk to the park, the two of you walk in silence, and it’s nice. His presence is enough for you, and you are enough for him.

You look around the little pond to see a glimpse of the promised ducklings, but they are nowhere to be seen. You have your back turned to him, as your eyes scan the area.

“They’re gone.” Your voice sounds disappointed. “Well damn it, I want that kiss back Jo-“ Your breath hitches in your throat when you turn around to face him.

There he is, on one knee in front of you, a little black box in his hand.

“Will you make me the happiest man on earth and marry me?”

[hope-you-brought-kneepads-bitch]

I’m the devil

Summary: So you told Wanda your secret and you realised the intense feelings you had for the woman, hopefully she reciprocated them

Warnings: Minors DNI, feelings, and a little sappiness from both sides

Words: 2,700 (I think)

A/n: not proofread properly, I’m tired 😂

Part 1 here

Flashback

You were bored, plain and simple, bored and horny? You couldn’t tell anymore but what you did know was that being the devil on earth wasn’t nearly as fun as you thought it would be

“Nat what’s on the agenda for today?” You spun your chair to your red headed demon pal who just shrugged “I’m not your assistant”

“But you are the greatest demon assistant in the entire world!” You grinned wide at the woman who just threw her muffin at you “hey that was $7! Don’t throw expensive food”

“You-

“Wait! Shut up for 5 minutes, I found her” you pointed her towards the other side of the road where a young woman was walking to what looked like an apartment complex

“She looks weak Y/n what do you want with her? Surely just take the brother for the debt instead?”

“I tried that but they offered her up so easily, ‘take our daughter please’ don’t take our son he’s the favourite’ pathetic actually, yep just give up your young daughter to the devil, she is very pretty though, which makes this all the better, now come on I don’t have all day”

“Yes boss”

End of flashback

“That was amazing!” Carol lay back on the couch satisfied and happy “you’re way too preppy for a demon sometimes Carol, anyway I’ve go to go, can you carry on with manning the young demons while I do something”

Carol sat up pouting “can’t we cuddle?”

You scoffed “what are we, 10? I’m not cuddling you we have jobs to do, now get out I’m bringing Wanda back through here and you scare her”

“Scare her? She’s a dirty human she doesn’t matter here”

You stopped in your tracks turning back to Carol and giving her a hard glare “Carol I won’t hesitate to send you back to hell and clean up after the demon dogs”

Your threat made Carol sink back into the couch “sorry, I’ll go”

You nodded “good” leaving her alone you straightened yourself checking your phone “only been an hour, she can’t have done much damage”

You walked back through the place and to your art studio unlocking the door finding Wanda still sat where she was but now painting a sunset? It looked like that anyway, it looked beautiful that’s what you definitely knew

“I didn’t try to run away” we’re the first words out of her mouth and you had to laugh “obviously you couldn’t escape Wanda, because of you did the rest of the gang would’ve gotten you first, now come on I’m getting you some dinner”

“What are you?” It was an innocent enough question but not something you wanted to discuss on the first day, or did you? Maybe she’d listen to you, maybe submit to you? Women like bad girls right?

You simply smiled “do you really want to know?”

Wanda wasn’t too sure anymore, why were you being so cryptic “I do…I think”

You sat down in front of Wanda and took a hold of her hands “you’re not stupid, you know there’s supernatural beings on earth don’t you?”

She nodded “it’s a little strange but yeah I do know that”

You continued “okay so there’s the devil, they’re real too” Wanda rolled her eyes “pretty sure the devil can’t leave hell since he was banished there”

“So you think the devil’s a man? That doesn’t seem very feminist of you”

Wanda shrugged “god’s a man and so is the devil, that’s what we learnt at home, but either way I don’t think they’d come to earth”

You chuckled pulling Wanda and her chair closer to you and keeping a tight grip on her hands knowing how people get when they see you properly

“What are yo-what the hell?! Wanda couldn’t move as she stared at your new appearance, horns protruding from your head and your skin a deep red, some small parts of your face were showing bone as of you were disintegrating and Wanda couldn’t help but stare intrigued and a little frightened

“Are you the devil?” Her voice whispered and you nodded “in the flesh, or most of it anyway”

“Why are you on earth?” Wanda whispered still admiring your face and horns “truthfully I got bored of overseeing the tortured souls and demons of hell, and in typical fashion when one comes to New York I set up a loaning business, then bought a night club”

Wanda raised her eyebrow in question “you mean LUX? The place that moved here from LA?”

You laughed “the very same, keeping tabs on me?”

“No I remembered my parents saying they’d like to go in an- oh”

“Oh?”

Wanda removed her hands from yours and stood up “my parents went into your club and now they owe money but instead gave you me”

You changed back to your human self standing up with Wanda making her look at you, the small amount of times you met her parents you thought they were pieces of shit “I’ll be honest Wanda I wanted to take your brother, hell the debt isn’t even that high and they could’ve payed it easily but they offered you up so quickly, tell me why”

Wanda didn’t notice herself crying again, she hated how much she was doing that lately, when you wiped her tears away she pushed herself from you “my brother is the favourite and always will be, it’s just something I have to live with”

You didn’t push her, you’d deal with the family later, humans were horrible creatures sometimes, you wondered why god even made them “okay, now that all that’s over with, how about some dinner? To lighten the mood”

“Can you even eat?” That made her laugh a little and you rolled your eyes happy to see her laughing “yes you weirdo I can eat, now what do you want?”

Wanda thought about it “Chinese?”

“Okay I’ll send Nat out for some”

Wanda sucked in a breath “she scares me”

You laughed “yeah she is scary, but she’s harmless, well to me anyway she won’t dare question me”

“Is she something different too?”

Something different? Yeah definitely how you’d describe Natasha “she’s a demon, my right hand demon basically, she enjoys scaring people, she won’t apologise for pointing a gun at you so probably best to just pretend it never happened”

“Okay”

“Okay, wait here for me, continue your nice painting” your turned her back to her canvas “maybe a few birds to liven the picture up yeah?”

Wanda smiled “yeah and a deer too”

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

“Nat! Need you to go out for me” you found her doing what she does best, kissing Maria against a wall in public like the exhibitionist she is

“You’re such a cockblock I swear to god” Nat groaned pulling herself away from Maria who just laughed “don’t swear to her dad Nat that’s weird”

“Damn right it is Maria, now Nat go and get my usual from the Chinese place, Wanda needs food and I don’t want to get it myself”

Maria pushed Nat gently and placed her hands on your shoulders “are you falling for the human?”

Your eyes widened “absolutely not! But I’m hungry and obviously she’ll need food too, like I told Nat I’ll break her starting tomorrow, I’m obviously luring her into a false sense of security and comfort, gosh why are you two so annoying about it?!”

Maria eyed you for a few moments before releasing you “how about both Nat and I go and get the food and we join you? Make it a cozy dinner between the devil, her human and two of your favourite demons?”

You sighed looking between her and Nat “fine! But Nat leave your gun it scars Wanda”

You didn’t stay long enough to hear any argument from Nat instead going back to your art room where Wanda was just finishing her picture with a couple of deer surrounded by cute robins “that looks amazing Wanda, when it dries we’ll hang it up somewhere, now come on Nat and Maria are getting the food”

“Were you mad when I kissed you?” Why was she full of questions? Why were humans so inquisitive? “You realised I marked your neck don’t you? When you kissed me I would’ve put you on the table and showed you the time of your life, unfortunately stabbing me really kills the mood unless you have a blood kink but I have a feeling that’s not you”

Wanda’s blush was adorable to you, she definitely wasn’t into that stuff, ah well you’d have to do other things together

“No no I don’t like things like that, so anyway you want me then? This whole assistant thing isn’t real and you just want to sleep with me?”

How could you tell her that while you were watching her before taking her, you’d become obsessed with her, she was just adorable, and you were so glad her parents offered her up, you’d wanted her for weeks

You were silent for a while before walking towards Wanda kissing her as soft as the devil could, gently cupping her face as you pulled away looking into her eyes “I hate how much I’m falling for you in such a short period of time, you’re a 3rd place ribbon when I deserve my first place prize money, but I think I prefer this ribbon”

It was her that kissed you this time closing the small gap, a slow kiss but a nice one nonetheless, pulling away you were still cupping her face and her hands were holding your waist, you both enjoyed this comfortable silence when a cough interrupted you making you both jump

“Interesting, the devil and a human? I think this happened once before didn’t it? She died right?”

You turned around keeping Wanda close behind you not letting the man get a glance at her “Tony to what do I owe this awful pleasure?”

“Your strippers at the club miss you, they don’t have anyone to show their moves on anymore, maybe you should go and help them” he laughed but instead of responding how you really wanted to and hit him across the face with fire you simply smiled “very interesting Tony I will look into it and now if you will please leave me and my friend alone”

He looked slightly taken aback, you normally fought back and hard when he turned up, interesting he’d have to remember that “okay well I’ll see you later at the club Y/n, young human hope you have a nice night”

He left without another word and your whole body relaxed, you felt Wanda move around and stand in front of you “strippers?”

You shook your head “they’re not strippers, we have dancers at the club and I’m in charge of making sure they’re okay and if they need anything, nothing seedy”

Wanda laughed “it doesn’t matter, you’re the devil I know you’re probably not a monogamous being” she kissed your cheek and headed for the door waiting for you

You quickly followed her and when she tried to open the door you slammed it shut leaning your body close into her and whispering into her ear “no, no you’re mine and you won’t be treated like some second rate prostitute, this little emotional talk we had where I told you how I feel won’t happen again if you’re not going to take it seriously, got it?”

Wanda was generally stunned in that moment, your eyes turned to their dark red and she didn’t know what to say “I- I I’m sorry” she whispered looking down avoiding your harsh gaze

“Look at me pretty girl” she did so and you offered her a small smile “my pretty assistant, you need to eat, now come on” you kissed her forehead softly manoeuvring you both and leaving the room

Wanda was still a little nervous but relaxed a little when she felt your hand in her own walking through the house, what a fun time she was having, at least she had a partner? Right? Sure let’s call it that

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

Nat had brought the food you wanted but decided she wanted to sleep with her girlfriend instead of eating with the two of you

“I hope you like Chinese food, I know humans eat anything but they’ve become vegetarian or that vegan thing, I gotta tell you none of it matters, when they come to hell they’ll get raw meat for the rest of eternity”

Wanda took one of the boxes and examining it “I’m not a vegan or vegetarian so it’s okay” she went to sit down at the table but you redirected her “you sit on the table in front of me, cozy”

“Okay”

You sat down with Wanda sat on the table, eating in silence for a while before Wanda stretched her neck “could I sit somewhere properly? My back and neck are getting sore”

“Come here” she shuffled off the table into your arms in a comfortable hug on your lap “are you sleepy honey?”

“Hmm” she hummed letting herself fall asleep in your hold “I’ll take that as a yes” you chuckled to yourself stroking her back in a soothing manner, staying in this position for a while you began closing your eyes drifting off but the door opened and in quickly came Carol

“Y/n! What are you doing?!”

Your father was testing you, you were absolutely being tested and your patience was wearing so fucking thin

You refused to open your eyes but did respond to the shrieking demon “Carol you don’t have to be here so why are you here?”

You sensed another figure enter the room and groaned knowing full well who it was “oh here she is, the king of hell, still trying to take over my domain?”

The woman chuckled settling in the chair next to yours reaching her hand out to touch Wanda’s shoulder making her jolt awake “hi pretty girl, are you okay?”

Wanda glanced up at you seemingly asking for help which you did pulling yourself and Wanda away from the table “If you don’t mind Valkyrie Wanda and I are going to go and get some rest, send my regards to Thor and Loki”

The woman nodded “and what about Hela?”

“Tell her to go fuck herself”

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

“Here we are my little human” you gently placed Wanda on the new bed and she looked around suspiciously “this isn’t the room i was in earlier?”

“No this is my room, I told you you’re mine, so you’ll never leave my side and this bed is very comfortable”

Wanda sat herself up on the edge of the bed looking around at the minimal decoration around the room “there isn’t much stuff in here”

You hummed turning to your closet removing your blazer “I’m only here at night so I feel no need for sentimental possessions” you finished removing your blazer and just about finished taking your shirt off when you heard Wanda gasp

“Are you okay over there Wanda? Never seen a woman shirtless before?” Chuckling to yourself you didn’t notice Wanda staring at the side of your ribs “what happened to your ribs?”

You looked down realising just how dark your large bruising was “oh yeah I forgot about that, it’s just something from the other day, it doesn’t hurt”

Before you could do anything else Wanda came towards you touching the bruising and you suddenly felt pain and winced “doesn’t hurt? Why’d you flinch?”

You pulled away sharply from her touch “it never hurts, I’m the devil nothing hurts me, how’d you do that?”

Wanda stepped backwards from you scared you were really mad at her “I-I didn’t do anything! I promise!”

“Okay okay let’s just calm down, it’s fine maybe I’m just tired” your gaze landed on a scared looking Wanda and your heart sank, even though it didn’t really work obviously something in you broke

“Hey I promise it’s okay, I am the devil Wanda only god can really hurt me and he’s not gonna do that since he’ll have to look over hell if he does”

Wanda nodded and started playing with her hands, a nervous habit you noticed her doing once in the day “do you need any sleepwear or do you sleep naked?”

The sudden change in conversation made Wanda a little less nervous “erm I think I’d prefer some sleepwear”

You shrugged “suit yourself, here you go” you threw her a shirt that you wore earlier in the day and Wanda looked it over “you want me to wear your top? Like a conquest trophy?”

“Have I not already conquered you?” You disappeared into your closet for a moment and reappearing in a shirt top and boxers?

“Are you wearing boxers? Aren’t they for men?” Wanda had quickly changed into the top you threw her and got under the covers as to keep her modesty

“Clothes aren’t gender orientated Wanda and I like my boxers” you climbed in bed next to her bringing her close to you

“We have a quiet day tomorrow, maybe I’ll get you a cute collar to match your hair” she turned to face you snuggling into your neck “I’m still really really confused about everything and I’m scared”

You let her mould herself into you and felt her heart rate slow as she let sleep take over her body “I’ll take care of you Wanda, you’ll never have to work or worry about anything ever again I promise”

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

[silence-burns]

A Snack of Mine

Fandom: Spider-Man universe 

smut 18+

The smashing noises coming from what Miguel called “the control room” sounded expensive. You may not have been an expert in all things technical, but you were pretty sure the room was in the process of a violent remodeling. 

“Right,” you said. “And you expect me to do what exactly?” 

“How am I supposed to know? It's not me who's usually had to restrain him in this kind of state. It's not my fault no one wants to get close to him. They kinda have a point, though.” Lyla flew around your head, ethereal as ever.

A crash louder than the previous ones came from behind The Door To Miguel's Lair. 

“You do realize he's just ripped a monitor off the wall?”

“You do realize I have no physical presence to do anything about it?” 

Point taken. It didn't make you feel any better and Lyla’s constant spinning didn't exactly help you get your bearings.

You waved your hand through her before the colorful but pixelated display of her panic blinded you completely. If it was an option, you would've gladly allowed anyone else to take your place. Sadly, none of the currently available Peters had a chance of getting to Miguel through his fury.

And hunger.

You sighed before moving towards The Door of Doom. 

"Miguel, I come in peace!" 

The kind of snarling that came from the other side was not something a human throat should've been able to handle. 

"Be a good, nonlethal boy for 10 minutes and you'll get a snack. Maybe even McDonald's!"

The silence that followed was heavy enough to imply precisely where you could shove all the burgers in the worlds, but it was better than blinding rage; you were already making progress! You shoved the door open, quickly closing it behind your back. You clicked the lock into place.

It wasn't sturdy enough to keep any of the Spidermen out, but it served as a symbol. You walked into his lair, and now you had to deal with the consequences.

Miguel was meticulous in his fury. The room used to serve him as both a personal space and one of his less official offices, where he spent time thinking and planning without anyone bothering him. He was the head of the squad meant for suppressing the threats to the entire multiverse, so he had to deal with a never ending stream of things to take care of. A little bit of private space was a healthy solution.

Unfortunately, due to the circumstances called Miles Morales Versus Bad Decision Making, the otherwise pleasant, calming space was now in pieces. Literally—half the furniture lay in ruin spread across the floor like rubble after an explosion.

"I think you missed a few." You kicked away a rather big part of what used to be a desk. "You gotta be more thorough, man."

As much as you wished to feel even half as confident as you sounded, it was a rather difficult task when the only part of Miguel you could see were his eyes, glowing bright red and piercing you through, unblinking. The only source of light was dim and came from behind the broken furniture. The outline of Miguel's body was hardly discernible from the darkness of the room, but you swore he was towering over you more than usual.

And completely still.

"I really hope you aren't too sentimental, because there's no way anything here is savable. You gotta invest in a proper punching bag, or maybe two just in case—..."

"You think this is a joke?"

His voice was low and on the verge of growling. The situation with Miles definitely got under his skin.

"Call me old-fashioned, but I prefer to face my problems with a healthy dose of humor rather than destruction of my belongings. You've got claw marks on your walls, Miguel, come on. Don't you think it’s a bit too dramatic?"

Before you could blink, he was on you. Your back hit the wall just inches from the mentioned claw marks—deep, sharp, and clearly torn through with a lot of force. Looking up into Miguel's glowing eyes and the barely hidden fangs, you knew how capable he was of using said force.

Miguel leaned closer to you, his hand holding you still by the shoulder. Pressed between him and the wall, you could feel your pulse rising, and it was only partially thanks to the heat emanating from Miguel's body.

"The structure of the whole multiverse could be destroyed because of one person."

His voice was so low you could barely understand the words growled from his clenched jaw. Miguel's eyes burned to the point where you could no longer turn your head away. It was hypnotizing and a part of you didn't want to fight it.

"He's a child, Miguel. He's fifteen and his whole world just came crashing down on him."

"It doesn't give him the right to destroy everyone else's."

"No, but he's scared. Scared children need supportive adults, not claws in their faces."

Miguel's eyes dipped down over your lips for a split second, but something shifted through his posture. Still tense, his voice got quieter and lost the aggression. You were so close together that he was almost whispering in your ear, and yet you couldn't hear anything around but him.

"And what would you prefer me to do?" he purred.

"Everyone is already looking for Miles, so let his friends talk to him first once he's found. He has nowhere in the multiverse to hide forever."

Miguel's hand moved from your shoulder to the side of your neck. The claws retracted and now his touch was almost gentle. You missed it, just as you missed the kind of heat that was rising up behind the flaming red of his eyes, different from what most people ever got to see. Something reserved for you.

You turned your face to the side, letting his fingers caress your cheek. Miguel froze, entranced by the way his thumb rested over your lip and how your smile seemed to widen when you noticed too.

"I prefer you like this," you said, making your voice come out as barely a whisper. In his state, Miguel would've heard you from another room. 

You didn't notice when it happened, but he was closer now, imprisoning you between himself and the wall. You both inhaled at the same time, chests pressing together a moment. His whole body was tense and wrapped tight around you. His thighs crushed yours and you wouldn't be able to move away even if you wanted to. 

"I know what you're doing and… this really isn't a good time."

"You say it with such a scary look on your face, and yet you do nothing to stop me."

Miguel's nostrils flared when you put your teeth over your bottom lip.

And pushed.

Miguel's hand wrapped around your jaw, holding your face up towards him. His fingers dug into your skin, the gentle caress long gone. There was only a firm hold and a predator that smelled blood.

His pupils narrowed in a split second and the breath he took was shaky, as if he wanted to smell every bit of blood rising from the tiny cut.

"You've been on that artificial shit for a long time now," you cooed. "But we both know it can never be quite the same as the real thing."

You could see him trying to say something, but nothing came out of his mouth. You stood on the tips of toes and brushed his lips with yours.

It was as if an electric shock struck his body. Miguel growled as he forced your mouth open, and then again when his warm tongue licked the blood smeared over you. He forced you back down with one push of his hips and you could feel him growing harder despite his spider suit. 

He sucked on your lip, hungry for more, just as his other hand found its way onto your hip and held it firmly against his own.

Miguel's open-mouthed kisses were growing sloppier as he followed your jawline and down the side of your neck. You couldn't help but push your fingers into his curls, marveling over how soft they felt and how perfect they were for grabbing his head and moving it just to the spot you wanted him at. 

Despite the urgency of his need and all of his senses blurry, Miguel let you guide him, breathing in your scent. There were no words to explain how much he missed it every time you had to go back to your own universe and leave him thinking, wanting and alone.

Miguel loved the way your nails sank into his hair and tugged harder every time he scratched your skin with his fangs. He couldn't help himself when he heard the softest of moans leave your throat and felt the way you kept grinding yourself over his cock. Miguel bit your shoulder hard when your hand wandered to his still clothed shaft and lightly scratched over the thin, bulging fabric.

"You're really testing my patience," he breathed into your skin.

"I hope you earn a good grade."

Miguel's hand moved from your hip to the bracelet controlling the features of his suit, but you slapped it away before he could take it off. You pressed harder over his erection, stretching the suit more.

"Who said I'm gonna let you rush so much?"

"I really don't think we have the—..."

A loud knock on the closed door made you both jump. 

"They found traces of Miles' signature!"

Miguel pushed his head into the crook of your swollen, tender neck, cursing with passion in Spanish. You may not have known the language well, but some things were truly universal.

You kissed his temple and brushed his wide shoulders. "You've got this."

Miguel took a slow, deep breath of your scent, noting all the various changes in it. But he did not budge.

"Prepare the team," he finally shouted back. "I'll be there in five minutes."

He caught your eyes widening and smiled ominously. The flaming red was shining through his own eyes again. 

"I have something to take care of first."

[shiro-00s]

heaven on earth

10. unfamiliar warmth .. ✮

[ genshin impact smau / idol!xiao x fem!reader ]

The time on your phone screen changed from 4:19 to 4:20. The sun wasn't shining as brightly anymore from the clouds covering it but sunlight still peeked through some gaps. Your long-awaited meeting with the dark-haired male was finally about to begin.

Your walk to the pavilion was accompanied by the chilling wind and the sound of people passing by as they chattered on with their own little worlds. Arriving 10 minutes early wasn't exactly your plan but it wouldn't cause any harm to be early for once. Plus, you were grateful for the opportunity to be able to arrive earlier than the man to give off a good impression.

Or that was your initial plan until you saw a glimpse of someone with teal undertones and golden eyes from the windows of the pavilion.

Well, at least someone didn't ditch.

Upon walking inside, the woman at the reception welcomed you, asking for any reservations or if you didn't make one.

As you told the woman your name, you were led to the table where you were met with the sight of a menu covering a familiar face.

Your lips curled into a smile at the sight. He seemed to be too invested in the menu, not aware of your figure standing near the table. Taking this as a chance to surprise him, you walked up to the chair on the opposite side of Xiao.

From under the table, you softly kicked his shin. You tried to suppress a laugh when his reflexes kicked in and he moved away from the table. The chair made a screeching noise from the contact it made against the floor. Xiao was clutching onto the menu, his knuckles shifting from pink to white.

Sitting back against the chair in a relaxed form, you questioned the panicked man, "You alright there?" His panic seemed todie down as he took in the sight of you. With a huff, he snapped back "Are you trying to end me with a heart attack?"

You giggled at his words as he took his seat back and was looking around for anyone who might have seen his actions that happened previously. Relaxing your elbows on the table, you took his lack of attention on you to check him out.

Xiao wore a black puffer jacket and a sweatshirt underneath. You were confused why he was wearing a mask, though. Well, it looked nice on him and it complimented the outfit well so it didn't really matter.

When his attention returned to you, you met his eyes but he looked away as soon as the interaction happened. Chuckling softly to yourself, you gestured for a waiter to come and take your orders. You were grateful you did research on the pavilion beforehand to know what food you should give a try. After conversing with the waiter about your orders, you watched in silence as Xiao took off his jacket and hung it on the chair.

You ignored the glances he kept throwing at you, just because you wanted to see how long it'd take for him to start a conversation. With a silent sigh, you took it upon yourself to be the one to start it because you felt responsible for it. "Sorry for the timing, by the way, it's too late for lunch and too early for dinner."

His eyebrows rose at your apology, clearly not expecting it. Then he shook his head and you could hear him mutter an "I don't mind." even with the low volume.

It was almost funny how every time it'd end up in the same way - you start a conversation and him replying. As laughable as it was, it would end up being awkward one way or another. So the only solution in this situation: ask him a question about himself.

"Hey, y'know.. the apartment we live in is pretty expensive no? Was wondering what job you got to pay for it." A great question, but not for him. Xiao had found himself in a tight situation, he didn't really want to tell you his profession. Why would he?

You were probably one of the only people who had friended him without the knowledge of his role as an idol. Sweat dripped from both of your faces, one for the confusion of the long silence and the other for not knowing how to answer your question.

"My friend (really struggled to say that) bought it for me because it was near his place." It was an excellent lie, and it wasn't a full lie either, right? Childe bought the apartment for him because it wasn't far from the studio and was a really good deal - at least that's what he heard. However, Xiao didn't have much to worry about because you seem to have bought his lie. The only thing that you were wary about was the fact he actually had friends. Think he'd be mad if I said that out loud tho.

Still, waiting for what you'll have to say about his fake situation was nerve-wracking. "Woah, your friend gotta be.. in love with you or something for that. Either that or he's made out of money." When the words reached his ear, he'd like to think you're one of a kind to reply with something like that.

"Not really, 'think he got someone honestly, with his behavior these days."

"No way, what kind of behavior?"

"Asked me to buy something for someone else, he never does that."

Xiao surprised himself when he talked to you without difficulty and was a little proud of washis improving social skills.

And so, the conversation never ends.

It was getting late, the clock was ticking but you and Xiao were in your own little worlds. Unaware about the darkness consuming the sky slowly until one of you had glanced at the clock on one of the walls of the pavilion. Oh. It was half past 6, and the sun had already set long ago.

Xiao seemed to have taken note of the time, too. As much as you'd love to stay with Xiao, your mind was starting to play games with you.

Did I leave enough food for Rain?

Hope I won't return to the apartment being torn apart by her.

Though, you didn't have much time to ponder on further as your thoughts were stopped by Xiao's words, "Wanna walk home with me? We're headed the same way." Well.. our places are literally face-to-face so, why not?

The both of you quickly wrapped up your things, fought over the bills (you paid) and walked out the pavilion to go on the peaceful walk with Xiao. It would've been a perfect night. It would've. Except the freezing cold air brushing against all parts of your exposed skin. It took a lot in you to suppress the shivering.

Neither of you really spoke as to not disturb the tranquil air surrounding the two of you. That didn't really last long considering the sneeze that came out of you even with your attempt to muffle it with your forearm. The words that came out of Xiao's mouth had made you warm though. In a different way.

"Are you cold?"

Trying to dismiss his concern, you waved your hand slightly as a gesture to non-verbally say "don't worry". Xiao made it obvious he couldn't just accept a very obvious lie when he thought of a quick solution.

And you realized what his quick solution was when you felt a weight on your shoulders. His jacket. On your shoulders.

Xiao gave you his jacket.

You can't tell if the warmth you suddenly feel is from the jacket or your emotions. Your heart skipped a beat. The action the male had done had left you speechless. How could he do something so casually? But you kept your composure, you refused to show any signs of flustering at his actions.

Your eyes scanned Xiao, trying to pry and figure out what he's thinking. When you're unable to do so, you sigh softly. He was Xiao after all, it wouldn't surprise you if he wasn't aware that this type of activity was something usually done in kdramas, where the male lead makes a move on the main character to create a romantic scene. It was a move used by teenagers to express affection for their loved ones, a cliche plot that was written in books to make more progress on the lovers' relationship, a gesture that was meant to mean more.

You smile, "Thanks Xiao, really saving my life out here." Again, Xiao being Xiao, he simply nodded at your words with a poker face. The walk home consisted of small talks here and there, until you finally reached your apartments.

You ignore the tiny ache in your heart when you had to hand over the jacket back, you reason that it was just that comfortable. You're ripped out of your thoughts once again when your hand brushes against his. It felt like a shock. The hair on your neck stands, the beating of your heart can be heard, you gulp.

You shove your hand back to your side, then turn to your apartment, you leave a 'cya later' in the air for him to hear as you stroll into your own residence.

And Xiao was left with the jacket you wore on his hand and the emptiness of your presence.

You don't realize how Xiao thinks you look better in the jacket than he does.

heaven on earth - 10. unfamiliar warmth

previous | masterlist | next

synopsis ; 🗝️ — in which you befriend your next door neighbour who, unbeknownst to you, was apart of a soon-to-be one of the most popular bands throughout liyue. you're unable to tell if cupid was helping you or not when things with xiao keept going up and down. will he continue to keep his secret from yours truly?

NOTES — rain is the cat's name btww im really spoiling yall with the hardwork i put into this chapter fr feeding u guys

TAGLIST [OPEN] — @mikctp @ghostlysyntaxed @kazemiya @nnasv @gojoandelsalovechilde @candy-purple-cyanide @kissingkzuha @zyilas @lunaavity @luminescent-light @mave-in @rizakari @riikyu @kokoscutie @starsxnight @sketcheeee @softlie @izakyun @xiaxilia @the-sweet-madame

(ask to be added or removed)

[lyrakanefanatic]

Congratulations!

A book similar to inheritance games:🎃

☕️: Academic rival jameson hawthorne fic.

🍂: A double date (lyra x Grayson) + (Avery x jameson )

thank you!!

for 🎃, im sure you’ve probably heard this before, but the naturals by jennifer lynn barnes. the plot isn’t exactly the same as it’s about a young group in the fbi called “the naturals” but it’s similar in ways like them solving things like the inheritance games. it’s more similar character wise though, as a lot of characters are very much like the ones in the inheritance games. there’s also the found family trope of ur into that, and also a similar love triangle!!

there’s also another book, called “heiress takes all”, and it’s said to be very similar to the inheritance games and oceans 11. i don’t know what it’s about much, (as i haven’t read it) but im sure if you search it up on amazon or goodreads you should be able to read the blurb!!

for ☕️, im assuming that u mean an au and im so sorry but i am TERRIBLE at writing au’s 😭😭 im also really bad at writing *character* x reader but i can still try and write those, where as au’s are just so hard for me 😭😭 im so sorry but if u want something else done feel free to request it again!!

for 🍂, sure!!

LYRA X GRAY + AVERY X JAMESON DOUBLE DATE HEAD CANONS:

• lyra and grayson show up a bit late (nothing extreme, just like 5-10 minutes) which surprised both avery and jameson because grayson is never late

• they found out after that it was because lyra wanted to match with grayson last minute and scrapped her whole outfit to match with his ☠️☠️

• they would probably go to a restaurant first, and then maybe go to a second location

• it started with small talk about their lives and days, but then slowly it turned into jameson and grayson seeing who can embarrass each other more by telling humiliating stories about each other from their childhoods 😭💀

• as soon as jameson reached the leather pants story though, grayson switched the topic and stopped with the whole competition

• lyra was curious but left it alone… for now. 😈

• lyra ordered a pasta, grayson ordered a steak, avery ordered fancy fish?? (idfk what they serve at fancy restaurants just think of the most expensive and tasty fish u can buy 💀🙏) and jameson ordered… chicken wings ☠️☠️

• lyra made fun of him for it and then jameson told grayson to break up with her

• in fact, lyra ends up making fun of him the whole night 💀

jameson to the waiter: “can i have some chicken wings please?”

jameson, once the waiter walks away: “I haven’t had chicken wings 3 months!”

lyra, snickering: “you look like you’ve had enough chicken wings for 3 months”

jameson gives her a wounded look and rolls his eyes, turning to grayson: “she’s mean, you should break up with her”

grayson, before he can even finish speaking: “no.”

later again that dinner…

avery: “should we get another side for seconds?”

grayson and lyra shake their heads, but jameson speaks: “can i get one? im still hungry.”

noticing grayson’s raised brow, he sighed: “don’t give me that look. matter of fact, i skipped lunch today!”

lyra, giggling again and muttering in a voice that jameson could just hear: “doesn’t look like it…”

jameson: “LYRA SHUT UP!!”

people ended up staring and as soon as the date was over and they were back at the house grayson called a beat down (just to give him an excuse to beat him up ☠️☠️🙏)

• once they do get back to the house though and grayson and jameson are done fighting, they watch a movie and jameson is secretly side eyeing grayson and lyra the whole time LMAOO

• lyra and avery end up sitting next to each other on the couch with grayson and jameson on the other side and, in whispers, gossip about them

• the boys can’t hear what they’re saying but spend more time trying to listen and hear what they’re talking about then actually watching the movie

• once they’re finished watching the movie, (and by watching the movie i mean lyra and avery gossiping while jameson and grayson try to secretly listen to them) lyra feels bad about all her fat jokes so she slips jameson a packet of gummies with a sorry note attached to them

• the gummies were from xander’s not-so-secret stash and now he officially has a fued with lyra but at least now jameson is going back to liking her 😊😊 (one hawthorne at a time people 😪😪)

THATS ALL I HOPE U LIKED THEM!! 🫶 (and im sorry again about not being able to do the ☕️ one, if you have another one u want me to do thats not about an au just lmk pls 😭)

[anabdaniels]

Cowboytober Day 17: Cock Warming

Paring: Agent Whiskey x Female reader

Word counting: 710

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Just Jack orbiting between being a whining baby and the marvelous husband he is.

Main Masterlist | Cowboytober Masterlist

Having to work on-site at the Statesman branch in New York was probably Jack’s top 1 nightmare. Yes, he hated those stupid online meets either, but even that was better than being in that city. He didn’t have anything personal against the city itself, but the whole metropolis thing was a pain in the ass for him: unending traffic, constant noise, everything was so similar and gray, and even on the spacious houses with well-sized backyards he had the feeling of being inside a cage.

The only thing that made him less miserable was having your company during the whole torturous process, pulling his CEO privileges to take you to work with him, or authorizing your entry into the building at any time.

That afternoon wasn’t an exception. Jack had various meetings in a row by the morning, when everything was solved, he ran back home, gladder than ever for having chosen a condo on Rose Hill that was just 10 minutes walking away from Statesman. After having lunch, complaining even about the grammage of the papers used for the company papers, and a 20 minutes nap, he was back at his office on the 39th floor, but fortunately, he had your company to make what was left of his shift more bearable, his stress magi8cally disappearing every time he squeezed any part of you or when you moved to settle better on his lap, making his cock awake inside you once more.

Yes, the oldest and most effective way to make his day better. There was no soothing medicine or breath control technique that would make his day better so effectively as being buried into your warm core while reading all that boring paperwork, and, to be fair, you liked that; being all cozy on Jack’s lap while nonchalantly scrolling your phone, or being nosy on the Statesman papers, or simply snuggling against Jack’s chest.

“Are these made of gold or something?” you questioned while inspecting some random budget lists on his desk, one of which listed the price of a single sparkling wine bottle.

“What is it, darlin’?” Jack asked with a chuckle at your adorably shocked manner and looked at the paper “Well, it comes with a single diamond and some handmaid details in gold.” Jack smiled widely as you seemed even more shocked.

“I didn’t even know Statesman had such expensive ass things.” You said with a frown.

“If it makes you less shocked, we just manufacture it for another brand.”

“Well, it surely makes me less upset because we never gave me one to try.” You joked with a playful pout, smiling when Jack hugged you tight and kissed the curve of your neck.

“I’ll get you one before we go home.” He said calmly and kissed your cheek “You see why I need you around to work better?”

“Why do I have the feeling it ain’t only because of my dubious humor?” you wiggled your eyebrows softly while shifting a bit on his lap, feeling him tensing slightly.

“One thing complements the other.” Jack shrugged and pulled you slightly loser, resting your back against his chest.

“We can’t really interrupt your shift to have some fun?” you looked at him pouting once again, starting to get impatient with having such a limited taste of him.

“No, no, darlin’. I need to get these done today to finally fly back to Kentucky tonight if I have the chance.” He answered calmly, despite being serious “And you’ll keep pretty sat on my lap while sneaking into my paperwork.” He leaned slightly, pressing a soft kiss on your lips.

“Fine.” You agreed despite still wanting to move it further. When Jack got distracted again with his work, you took your chances, slowly grinding your hips back and forward on his lap, sighing with the feeling of his softened cock starting to grow hard inside you, but your fun was quickly cut by his arm wrapping around your hips and stopping you.

“Did you hear what I said?” he asked with a chuckle and kissed your temple, still looking at what he was reading.

“You can’t blame me for trying.” You laughed and grabbed the budget list back to resume your reading “I’ll judge Statesman’s expenses in the meantime.”

Tagging: @missladym1981 @alex-does-art-things @beefrobeefcal

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I asked my girlfriend to get me a replacement mask?

So I and my girlfriend (both adults) are in a long-distance relationship and live on different continents but visit each other for periods of weeks to months at a time. As background context, my girlfriend is notoriously bad with money - she's owed me over $1500 for half a year now after I covered some big expenses for her when she was unable to save in time, though I've told her there's no particular deadline for giving it back and to just do it when she's able, but she's also borrowed money from her parents, she's paying off a credit card debt, and despite having a full-time job she seems completely unable to save anything substantial and is constantly buying things.

We both like a certain musician, and this shared interest in the musician is actually how we met in the first place and bonded. They've dropped some merch in the past, and it always sold out within 5-10 minutes, and they're borderline impossible to get now unless you a) are lucky enough to find another fan who's giving theirs away, which is super rare because of how hard they are to replace, or b) are willing to fork out thousands of dollars for a resold one on some dodgy site somewhere. One of the merch items I got from one of those drops was a facemask, and my girlfriend has a matching one - I can't remember if it was something I bought for her, since I did that with some merch if I got there in time, or one she bought herself. It became a huge comfort item for me - I'm both autistic and have avoidant personality disorder, so I'm almost always in some kind of mask to hide my face, and this one being connected to a special interest as well as comfortable and a perfect size (and goes with all my clothes!) made me super happy. Last time she visited, we joked around about having identical masks but that it was easy to tell which one was hers because it had makeup stains all over the inside.

As she packed to leave, I mentioned that I couldn't find my mask anywhere and asked if she'd picked mine up as well as hers by accident, so she dug through her bags and said she didn't have it, only hers. I was kinda disappointed but I figured it'd turn up sooner or later so I accepted it, and she flew back home.

A few days later, she let me know she'd unpacked and discovered she actually did have both our masks. I asked her to send it back to me, and she said she would.

Fast forward a few months, I'd asked a few more times, and she always said she would soon. Eventually, when I asked one time, she told me she'd lost it. Her mother had tidied her entire room and she no longer had any idea where either of our masks were. I was kind of frustrated so I asked why she couldn't have just sent it over when I initially asked, and she snapped back that she couldn't afford it, which doesn't make much sense to me because she definitely does have enough to send over a flat envelope, which a fabric face mask would easily fit in just like a letter.

It's been a few months since then and I've been looking and looking for any kind of replacement, but all I can find are knock-off versions that are made from different materials or don't look the same. I did see one resold for like $20 ages ago, so it definitely happens, but it's so rare.

WIBTA if I told my girlfriend I'm expecting her to replace the one she lost even if it's putting more financial pressure on her? I feel really dumb for getting so upset about a mask, but it was one of my favourite belongings and it's genuinely upsetting that it was taken and lost.

To get out ahead of any comment saying it, I have full 100% faith that she did not do it intentionally and she didn't sell it or anything like that. She wouldn't have even thought about the possibility of doing that and I absolutely believe it was an accident and she just grabbed both masks or had been holding onto mine for me and forgotten it was in a bag etc.

[ysmtttty]

Red Ferrari

Chapter 9

Summary: Azris AU, where Azriel is a mechanic and has his own service station. One day, Eris comes there because something is wrong with his car

AO3 link Chapter 8 Chapter 10

a/n: since my semester started chapters will be on Sundays

"Idiot," Azriel grumbled, not even knowing why he grabbed his hand again and didn't loosen his grip. Eris didn’t resist.

“Why did you come then?” Eris asked.

Azriel's grip on Eris's hand tightened slightly, his eyes darting away as if avoiding the question's weight. He didn’t have a good answer, not one that made sense, at least. His chest felt tight, a mix of frustration, anger, and something else he didn’t want to name.

“Because I’m an idiot too.”

They sat in silence for a while, Eris still holding the ice to his cheek, and Azriel couldn't bring himself to let go of his hand.

“You irritate me,” Azriel finally said, breaking the silence that had been grating on him. Eris only snorted. “I really want to be angry at you right now, but instead, you make me worry like hell. You scared me with that call, and even more when I saw you when I came in. And now I’m sitting here, not knowing whether to tell you to go to hell or to bring you more ice because you look awful. I just wish you didn't make it so damn hard.”

“I guess I have a talent for making things difficult,” Eris said, wincing as he moved to adjust the ice. “Thanks for coming. Even if this ends with you telling me to go to hell. But before that, you promised me tea.”

Azriel rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress a small laugh. He took the ice from Eris's hand, which had already started melting, and went to the kitchen. This time, Eris followed him.

After rummaging through the cabinets for a bit—Azriel knew from experience that asking where things were was useless—he found a box of expensive, unopened tea. Meanwhile, Eris turned on the electric kettle.

“You don’t even drink tea,” Azriel noted.

“I can give you the cliché answer that I love everything you do if it makes you feel better,” Eris quipped back.

“You’re not making it any easier for me not to kill you, you know that?”

“The knife block is to your right.”

“I hate you,” Azriel sighed, rolling his eyes, grabbing two mugs instead of a knife, and throwing some green tea leaves into them, hoping it would help calm both his and Eris's nerves. Despite all the sarcasm and bitterness, Eris sat at the bar with a leg that wouldn’t stop shaking.

When the kettle boiled, and Azriel joined him with two cups of tea, Eris stared into his cup for a long time, clearly lost in thought.

“Drink it before it gets cold,” Azriel grumbled, pushing the cup closer.

“So caring,” Eris teased, blowing on his tea before sipping.

They sat in silence, with Eris continuing to stare off into space, and it grated on Azriel’s nerves. Eris's whole state made him incredibly anxious. He honestly didn’t know what to do when someone was in such distress because, in Azriel’s experience, the people close to him rarely ended up beaten and then refused to talk about what happened. Azriel found himself realizing he now considered this idiot one of his close people. And then realized maybe he didn’t mind.

“Stupid question, but are you going to the police?” Azriel asked, tired of the tension in the room. Eris only looked up at him with a half-empty gaze, as if he hadn’t heard a word and had been completely elsewhere for the last few minutes. Azriel repeated his question.

“No,” Eris shook his head. “I can’t handle another court case with Mor's family.”

Azriel froze. He looked at him intently, hoping Eris would say he was joking. But from the serious expression on his face, Azriel realized there was no joke.

“Mor's father,” Eris continued, pointing to the bruise on his face. “The marriage was for convenience. Her father got a big chunk of profit and a lot of other perks from the union. Today, he proved he doesn't want to lose them.”

He hadn’t known. He hadn’t known that an arranged marriage could bring so many problems. Azriel understood that divorce was not an easy task in such cases—hell, having Mor in the equation made it even more complicated. But physical violence? The idea of Mor’s father being behind this, of Eris being physically hurt because of some twisted power play, made Azriel's blood boil.

Eris noticed the change in Azriel’s expression and let out a small, bitter laugh. “Don't give me that look. I'm not some helpless victim. I knew what I was getting into, and I’ve handled worse.”

“Handling it doesn’t mean you should have to,” Azriel replied, his voice tight with anger he was trying to keep in check. “Or are you going to let everyone just come up and use you as a punching bag just because you've been through worse?”

“It’s not that simple,” Eris muttered, not knowing why someone else's concern irritated him so much.

“Then enlighten me,” Azriel frowned. And he was still frustrated that he couldn’t properly be angry looking at Eris. And damn it, did he have to be beaten so that now it was impossible to look at him without feeling something?

After a short pause, Eris explained. He explained the details of the divorce, the deals between the families, and the profits they were making, though the descriptions were a bit vague and unclear—apparently, Eris himself didn’t fully understand it. Then it all led to an explanation that their families were very influential and Mor’s father could afford such attacks every day, and no one would say a word to him. Except for Eris's father, though Eris remained silent about him for now, not ready to talk about that. Besides, he wasn’t sure Beron would do anything to protect him, and if he did, everything had a full chance of turning into a dirtier and bloodier mess, in which he didn’t want to participate at all.

Azriel listened to him, while Eris noticed how his jaw clenched in anger at certain moments, how his fists tightened and relaxed, how his gaze kept falling on his bruises and split lip. Eris had never needed pity but seeing that someone cared was unexpectedly pleasant. Maybe it was selfish, but something in his chest responded with an unusual feeling at the realization that Azriel cared, at his readiness to stand up for him even despite their argument.

They sat in the kitchen for a long time, Azriel pouring him a second cup of tea, grumbling that he definitely needed to calm his nerves.

“What about Mor?” Azriel asked. “Doesn't she want to get out of the divorce quickly?”

Eris shrugged, his features darkening for a split second at the mention of his wife’s name. “She did. At least that was the plan. And then suddenly, she needed more money than I was willing to give, so we’re both sinking in this mess, spending money on lawyers and exhausting each other.”

Azriel gripped his cup tighter. Eris just cast a tired glance at his white-knuckled fingers.

“We’re stuck in a very unpleasant situation,” Eris continued, for some reason feeling like he had to explain more. Because Azriel deserved to know more, and Eris felt that he owed him the truth. No matter how ugly it was. “The last year, Mor and I were in an ‘open marriage,’ we agreed that since we were stuck, we might as well give each other the chance to find happiness with other people. Now she has a video of me with one of those people.”

Eris winced at Azriel’s expression, full of disbelief and anger at this information.

“How bad is it?” Azriel asked hoarsely.

“Detailed,” Eris answered dryly, taking the last sip of his now cold tea. “So detailed that it threatens to ruin my career if Mor decides to send it to my clients and competitors. It would destroy the reputation on which my career is built, and which is almost impossible to restore in the legal field after such things.”

Azriel stared at him, processing what he’d just heard. If after the information about Mor’s father and his impunity, he thought he couldn’t get angrier, this had finally pushed him over the edge, sending his levels of anger skyrocketing. Damn, and he thought Mor had treated him badly. He got off easy.

Exhaling sharply, Azriel swore, crudely and uncontrollably. Eris almost found amusement in listening to him.

“Fuck,” Azriel concluded his rant.

“Couldn't have said it better myself,” Eris smirked.

“You're not thinking of giving her the money after this, are you?” Azriel asked, frowning. “I may be just a mechanic and not play these kinds of games, but even I know that giving in to blackmailers is a dead end.”

“I’m giving away half the money anyway,” Eris sighed. “We didn’t have any concept of a prenuptial agreement, so everything earned in the marriage still has to be split equally. But Mor is asking for more, which bothers me, and I don’t know if I want to respond to her actions or just tell her to fuck off and give her the money. Whatever, I’ll earn more.”

Azriel only frowned even more, looking at him as if he were an idiot. Eris was really tired of that look because his younger brother had looked at him the same way when he told him he planned to just give her the money and watch her walk off into the sunset.

"That's exactly what she’s after."

"I know," Eris sighed, looking at him with tired eyes. "She might even come back in a year or two when the money runs out, to extort more."

"And you’ll let that happen?"

"No idea."

Azriel held back his opinion for now, not knowing if it was the right time to tell Eris to send Mor to hell with her ultimatums. Mor was capable of anything, but this had hit a new low that Azriel didn’t even know existed.

"You’ve made it hard for me to yell at you for not telling me about the marriage," Azriel groaned, burying his face in his hands. He closed his eyes, trying to gather his thoughts while hearing Eris quietly chuckling at him. The bastard had the nerve not to hide his amusement at Azriel's distress. Great.

"I reserve that right for you indefinitely," Eris told him. "But I would prefer if you did it sooner so we could move on to the part where I apologize."

Azriel quietly laughed at his words, but then the smile faded from his face, and he began. "Fine. I’m fucking pissed at you for not telling me about the marriage earlier. And not just that, you weren’t planning to tell me, thinking the divorce would be over before anything serious started between us."

Eris was about to say something, but Azriel just put his hand forward, gesturing for him not to interrupt. He closed his mouth and listened in silence.

"And with you, it’s hard to tell if there will be anything serious because it always feels like we take one step forward and then two steps back. Every fucking time, and it’s very, very exhausting, Eris," Azriel continued. "I was living peacefully, fixing cars, and then you came along, barging in with your stupid dates, and it seemed like everything was fine. But I’m fed up with this feeling of uncertainty, and now, knowing about your divorce with my ex, which also involves my best friend, I have no idea what to expect anymore. Honestly, I have no fucking clue what else you’re hiding. Another two secret wives, three mistresses, illegitimate children, a house in the Caribbean, or that your name isn’t even Eris. It sounds absurd, but I’m ready for anything at this point."

"A villa in Portofino," Eris simply replied.

"Excuse me?"

"I don’t have a house in the Caribbean, but I do have a villa in Portofino, if that matters," he explained. "The name’s real, no other relationships or children. But if you have any questions, ask. I’ll answer honestly."

"Why are you so insufferable?" Azriel sighed.

"Because I’m a fucked-up person, Azriel. And sometimes I make fucked-up decisions, like hiding my marriage," Eris looked up at him. "And most of the time, I am not apologetic about my actions. Hell, if I felt guilty for every life I ruined, I wouldn’t have become a successful lawyer. But this time, I do feel guilty. I can’t promise that something like this won’t happen again because it’s a habit, and I’m not saying this as an excuse, just explaining. But I can promise to try. At least with you.”

At least for you.

"Have we reached the apologies yet?"

"We’ve reached the apologies," Eris nodded. "I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the divorce earlier. I really didn’t want to involve you in all of this, considering the circumstances, but even so, I should have at least mentioned it in general terms. I’m sorry, Azriel."

They looked at each other for a long time, Azriel trying to untangle the confusing knot of thoughts and emotions in his head that refused to unravel and let him objectively assess the situation. Because the nasty little voice in his head kept whispering that Eris lied once, he’d lie again, and that he didn’t need this kind of drama in his life. However, another part of his brain begged him to forgive and move on because, whether he admitted it or not, he had gotten used to Eris's presence in his life, and he didn’t want to end things, and he also missed him terribly.

"I now understand why you’re such a good lawyer," Azriel said in a grumbling manner, sighing heavily.

"It means...?"

"It means come here, idiot," Azriel pulled him by the collar, drawing him into a kiss.

Eris froze, clearly thrown off by the sudden mood shift, but then kissed back, ignoring the slight pain from his split lip, which Azriel traced with his tongue, soothing the pain.

"That doesn’t mean you’re completely forgiven, got it?" Azriel clarified.

"Understood," Eris smiled at him anyway, knowing it was all bullshit.

"I’m serious. You’re on thin ice, pull this shit again, and I’ll kill you. No half-truths or omissions."

Eris nodded in agreement, understanding that despite how difficult it would be for him, he would try.

"Since we’re on the subject, I’d prefer it if you yelled at me right away instead of stewing over it for weeks," Eris added as Azriel trailed kisses along his cheekbone, not hiding his pent-up desire.

"You’ve got your shitty habits, I’ve got mine," Azriel grumbled against his skin. "But since you’re planning to generously improve, I’ll try too."

"I’d drink to that generosity, but judging by your voice messages, you had enough yesterday," Eris smirked. Azriel groaned quietly.

"You fucking listened?" he asked with a strange hope that at least not all of it.

"To your great misfortune, yes. And some promises were definitely worth noting."

"To your great misfortune, I don’t remember anything from that message, so you’ll have to remind me what exactly I promised," Azriel whispered against his lips, and Eris only smirked and reached for his belt. "Or show me, fine."

Azriel kissed him again, capturing his lower lip between his own, his hands wandering over Eris's body, mindful of the bruises. Eris felt his caution, so he stopped and pulled away.

"I’m fine," he said, frowning.

Azriel raised an eyebrow, silently questioning him, poking his shoulder and watching as Eris tried not to wince. "Uh huh," Azriel said sarcastically.

"I appreciate your concern, but my desire to get more bruises from you outweighs the pain from the ones I already have," Eris looked at him confidently, but seeing that Azriel wasn’t backing down from his position, he relented. "I’ll say if it’s too much."

This time, Eris kissed him, not letting him reply or argue. His own hands wandered with much more confidence, groping, touching, so much that Azriel was left speechless and for a moment his brain forgot what they were even arguing about a second ago.

They somehow made it to the bedroom, Eris pushed him onto the sheets, and Azriel tore off his t-shirt, later doing the same with Eris's shirt, the next to hit the floor were their pants. Eris straddled his hips, pressing against him firmly, creating the much-needed friction that still wasn’t enough.

Azriel gripped his hips tightly, pulling him even closer. "You’re still the one who owes me an apology, and I don’t mean verbal," he muttered as Eris kissed his neck, leaving a trail of fire in the wake of his touches, "but I’d prefer to get it when you don’t look like a human punching bag."

"And what do you suggest?" Eris whispered, his hands running over Azriel’s chest, pinching his nipple, making Azriel hiss quietly as that bastard smirked, pleased with his reaction.

“I suggest you stop being such a tease and let me fulfill my very drunk and very vague promise,” Azriel intercepted his hands, then changed their positions and settled between his legs.

Eris didn't have time to protest when Azriel pulled off his underwear and wrapped his lips around the tip of his cock, drawing a quiet moan from him. Azriel didn't rush, running his tongue along the length, teasing with lazy movements and a slow pace that he knew drove Eris crazy. To some extent, it could be considered a petty revenge. But in truth, Azriel just reveled in his reactions, the sounds Eris made, the slightest changes in his expression, and the way his hips jerked towards his mouth.

Pinning his hips to the bed, Azriel only clicked his tongue.

“If you fucking don't—” Eris growled at him, only for his words to turn into a moan when Azriel took him fully, until his cock hit the back of Azriel’s throat.

Eris reached for his hair, gripping the silky dark locks, while Azriel hollowed his cheeks, looked up at him so lewdly it drove him mad, and started moving his head up and down with even filthier wet sounds.

He smiled and quietly moaned when Eris's grip on his hair tightened, the sound vibrating on his skin. With one hand holding his hips, Azriel reached for his own hard cock with the other, clearly in need of attention, jerking himself off in rhythm with his sucking pace.

A few thrusts, a few movements of his tongue, and Eris came in his mouth. Azriel swallowed, even running his tongue over his lips as he pulled back. Eris reached out to him, touching his cock and giving him a few strokes before Azriel also came.

“I’m on my way to getting full forgiveness,” Eris smiled at him while they both caught their breath.

“Not even close,” Azriel replied, though they both knew that wasn't true.

“I hope to change your mind with a shower together,” Eris informed him. “Just wait until I find the strength to get up.” Azriel chuckled at him.

After the shower, Eris collapsed onto the sheets, almost immediately passing out. Azriel didn’t think twice before lying down next to him, deciding it was too late to go home. And honestly, he really didn’t want to.

Earlier, he had taken a closer look at the bruises on Eris's body, but exhaustion slightly overshadowed the anger that Azriel still felt looking at them. Marks on his arms, a few bruises on his torso—all of it infuriated him beyond measure. He knew that Eris was unlikely to take such a reaction well, thinking it was pity and would try to dismiss it, acting like it was some minor issue that happened to him every day.

Maybe it did. Azriel had already realized that this kind of crap wasn’t new for Eris, that it had happened before, and that it might happen again in the future. But he wanted to prevent it. He wanted to beat and run over those responsible for these wounds and bruises a few more times. Maybe he would. He was a mechanic, who knows what could happen to a car's brakes, right?

Azriel smirked at the crazy turn his thoughts had taken while he lay there, watching the already sleeping Eris, running his fingers along his arm, and then, for some reason, kissing him between the shoulder blades. Being with Eris was full of contradictions. In one moment, Azriel wanted to strangle him, to be rougher, and in the next, he wanted to show a tender side, one that was entirely unfamiliar to himself.

In short, the red-haired bastard drove him crazy, and Azriel didn’t know yet whether that was for better or worse. He only knew that, for now, he was staying. Despite all the mess.

tag list: @sizzlingstarlightsky @isnotwhatyourethinking @molcat07 @chairofchaos @lilah-asteria

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

(Bonten timeline) Had a random head canon that since kakucho is 100% on the top 3 best boyfriend list I had a hc that when his lover is drunk he Takes on the role of taking care of her and when he's undressing her and redressing her drunk body into some pjs when she starts too whine and struggle he'll praise her as he helps her get comfortable calling you things like "good girl" "your doing so well love" ect that's my fluffy drunk user headcanon

A/N ::: So, one of my favorite anons turned moots sends me the best asks about our TokRev boys. I truly hate myself for my inability to keep anything short. Start giving me word limits, guys. Seriously. Or I'll just keep going apeshit.

C/W ::: Kakucho x F.reader, drinking at clubs, reader is a lightweight, Kaku' takes care of her. Literally I love him to pieces. "Koneko" means kitten in Japanese.

WC ::: 1,008

I read this as many times as I could. One of these days I'll figure out how to effectively read stuff.

Kakucho IS THE WORLD’S BEST boyfriend. I know this deep within my psyche and even deeper within my soul.

He always has your back (especially when he has you on it. But I digress).

After a night of being out at some exclusive clubs and drinking expensive drinks (that HE fights with you about to just "shut your damn mouth woman and let me pay for them" - respectfully, of course!), you guys catch an Uber and go home.

You're so drunk that you've fallen asleep in the car more than a couple of times. And it's not that you're sloppy drunk or anything. You're just a bit of a lightweight.

Kakucho finds this one of the more charming things about you on the occasion you do let loose and drink.

The driver gets you guys back to his place and he wakes you up gently by stroking your face and squeezing your shoulder. "We're home, let's go inside."

He pays the driver, thanks them and proceeds to help you walk to the house with his arm under yours and around your waist. Eventually picking you up and just carrying you because you're just taking so long and he wants to get you to bed because he's tired as hell, too. (He really just wants to cuddle up next to you. You were dancing so much tonight and he doesn't dance so all he could do was look at you shakin' your ass all night. He missed you - despite being no more than 10-15 feet away from you while you were out on the floor.)

Finally inside, he gets you to the bed and sits you down on the edge.

"I'll be right back." Kakucho walked out of the room and you heard the garage door open. Then the dryer door opened and closed a minute later. "Here's some pajamas, one of my t-shirts and some shorts. Is that ok?" He asked.

You nodded and stood - rather, tried to stand up so you could undress. "Kakuuuu! I nee-" you hiccupped "hahaha! Jesus. I need help, please? I'm sooo tired an' 'ni jus' wanna gotuh sleep! I danced 'n drank 'n danced around 'n now I wanna sleep, Kaku!"

He grabbed you some clean panties from your drawer in his dresser and laid all of the clothes he got for you beside you on the bed. "Oh, my baby is tired. Come here. Let me help you. Let me do the hard stuff."

Kakucho kneeled on the floor in front of you and began unbuckling your heels. "That's it. Letting me take care of you, such a good girl. Ok, I'm going to lift your dress over your head and get the shirt on, ok?"

He's your king of consent, even over something as innocent as helping you get out of your eveningwear and into your pajamas.

You nodded and threw your arms up over your head, smacking him on the underside of his chin on their way up. "OH SHIT! KAKU! ARE YOU OK! SHIT I'M SO SORRY!"

He rolled his jaw around a few times and laughed, "Helluva hit there, koneko," he laughed as he lifted your dress up and off of your body. Leaving you in just your bra and the panties you had on earlier. "H-here put this t-shirt on now and then I'll take your bra off and put those other ... um, under things on."

This was hilarious to you how shy he still was with you sometimes and that he couldn't say the word "panties". The reality was that some of the things he's said to you are far worse than that.

"K." You were so agreeable right now. Not that you weren't always, but like, there was zero resistance coming from you tonight.

"My sleepy girl. Doing so good tonight. Letting me dress you like my very own little doll." Kakucho chuckled at the thought of you actually being a life-size doll for him to play with. He was still a little drunk, too, so you let it slide.

After you had his shirt on, he stood behind you and unclasped your bra, sliding it down your arms and pulling it through the sleeves of the shirt, tossing it on the chair in the corner of the room. He was so gentle, his hands grazing your skin as he did so.

You shivered.

"You're doing so well, tipsy little baby. Here, let me help you put ... these (your panties) and your shorts on." He slid the lace up your legs, followed by the cotton shorts.

You didn't want to wear those shorts anymore and you whined.

Kakucho shushed you and guided you down onto the bed anyway. "I know, I know. You'll forget all about them once you're laying down. Ok?"

He tucked you under the covers and leaned down to kiss your forehead. "Do you need anything else, baby?"

"Just you. Wanna cuddle you and go to sleep. Please? Kaku, I love youuu." You were so tired and so drunk and he was so cute and nice to you right now - and ALL THE TIME. You just wanted to be wrapped up in him and around him.

"You're my girl. Forever. I love you too. Sweet dreams." He kissed your forehead again and closed his eyes.

He chuckled and undressed, taking off his shirt, pants, and socks, leaving him in his boxer briefs.

Thanks to the alcohol, you were seeing 2 of him and it was better than anything you’d ever witnessed. He slid under the covers and pulled you into his arms.

He didn't even care that you were still drunkenly babbling about how much you loved him and that he was your favorite person in the whole wide world.

But he'd have honestly given anything to record you muttering about all of that in your sleepy, drunk voice just before you dozed off. Tightly pressed to him and wrapped up in his arms Sleeping in your own little private heaven for the next 7 1/2 hours.

Taglist ::: @katkitkats @kazutora-kurokawa @arlerts-angel @viburnt @darkstarlight82