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happy74827 · 9 months ago

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A New Moon

[Dexter Morgan x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Despite his gut telling him he shouldn’t, Dexter can’t help but fall deeper into the trap of his own emotions. And the more time he spends with you, the more he starts to realize what exactly those emotions are. {GIF Creds: beautifulguycollector}

WC: 2889

Category: Slight Lime/Spice, Friends to Lovers + Forbidden Love (if you squint) Tropes

Gotta keep this fandom alive somehow 🥲 (also… why are titles so hard to write? That and the synopsis are harder to write than the actual fic)

『••✎••』

You were too good for him. Plain and simple. You were a smart, beautiful, hard-working woman who had goals and dreams. He was a cold-blooded killer. Not to say that he hadn't been there for you, though. The two of you had been friends since… well, a while. A long while.

He couldn't quite pinpoint the moment he started to notice the changes in your relationship. It was a slow, subtle buildup, and the first time you called him your friend, Dexter thought nothing of it. The second time, it made him pause, but not enough for him to consider what the implications of you saying that to him could mean.

But when you said it again and again and again, he realized the meaning behind your words, the affection they held. Dexter couldn't say that he was particularly close to many people. There were a select few he'd consider his friends, but he wasn’t emotionally invested in any of them. And he didn't think he was invested in you, either.

But maybe he was.

Debs was different, and it made him question how much he was supposed to care about someone. But that was his sister, the one person in the world who loved him unconditionally. That reason alone made his relationship with Deb unique. He was sure of that.

The same went with Brian—his brother, as it turned out. And Harrison, his son. Dexter felt things for those people, but they were different. Those were family, the people he was genetically tied to. Of course, he would care about them.

But you weren't family, and yet he still cared about you. It was a different kind of caring. And it was confusing. Dexter had convinced himself for years that he was a high-functioning sociopath, but lately…

Lately, he was beginning to question if that was true. Simple glances from you could bring an unwelcome smile to his lips. And when he heard the sound of your voice, he could feel his chest getting warm. It was a nice feeling, something he'd only experienced briefly with Rita, but then, that relationship was different too.

It was hard to put his finger on it, but being with you was just… easy. And it didn't feel like work. There was no pretending. Dexter didn't have to act when he was around you. He didn't need to try to be someone he wasn't. It was the real him.

It was terrifying.

Because now, as he sat on your couch, watching as you moved gracefully around your small apartment, the feeling was back, and he didn't know how to deal with it.

He should have been home with Harrison, but the little boy was staying over at Debra’s tonight, so he didn't have any responsibilities. The passenger within him didn’t see it as a problem either, considering he’d just recently “disposed" his latest target.

It was nice, Dexter decided, to relax every once in a while. Work and family didn't give him a lot of opportunities to do so, and now that the two were temporarily taken care of, he felt he deserved to be lazy for a bit.

You didn’t have a TV in your living room, so the two of you settled for movies. Dexter didn’t really have a preference for them. He could watch a comedy, action, drama, or horror and not feel strongly for or against any of them.

Apparently, you didn't mind what he watched either because he could see the spark of excitement in your eyes when you pulled out the case for one of the worst comedy films Dexter had ever seen.

He'd seen it before. Not with you, one of the movies Vince shoved down his throat when he planned a night out with him, Angel, and Quinn.

It wasn't his favorite, not by a long shot, but the grin on your face and the way you eagerly skipped to the DVD player, set the disk inside, and closed the hatch made him bite his tongue.

Dexter had learned a long time ago that you were a very expressive person. And even though most of the time your feelings weren't displayed on your face, your eyes told another story. Such opposites to his own, Dexter often found himself fascinated by the light they held.

You had a passion for life that was rare, and it drew him in. It was a quality he lacked, and he could see it in everything you did. Whether it was talking about the newest book you read or making coffee, you put all of yourself into your actions.

It was something that Dexter had never understood. How could you have such a strong sense of self? Didn't it get tiring, having to live up to a standard of being so… so good?

But then again, you'd always been better than him. He might’ve been smarter in some regards, but what was intelligence if it didn't come from a place of morality? You were better, purer than him. He knew it, and everyone else did, too, even if they weren’t aware of how pure he wasn’t

That's why this was so wrong. This thing that had been going on for the past couple of months between the two of you. The subtle touches, the longing stares, the late-night calls. It was all wrong.

You were similar to Rita in some ways. You were kind and compassionate, always looking for the good in others. You had a knack for taking care of people, whether they needed it or not.

Dexter could tell that was your nature, and it was one of the things that initially attracted him to you. All the things he lacked, you had. But that didn't mean that you could replace Rita. He didn’t want you to.

And that was the difference. While he may have found qualities in you that resembled the ones he'd found in Rita, you were not her. Rita was gone, and it was his fault. She didn’t deserve to die, and yet she did. She deserved to grow old, to see Harrison grow up.

She deserved better.

The same went for you. You didn’t deserve a monster like him. The more he thought about it, the more he came to the conclusion that he should stay away. It was for the best of both of you.

And yet he was here. On your couch, watching a shitty movie and drinking the beer you'd offered him. Because, despite his efforts, he couldn't keep his distance from you.

He should've known. When it came to you, Dexter didn't have a choice.

His gaze drifted over to your form as you sat down beside him. You were smiling, your eyes bright and focused on the television. A lock of hair fell across your face, and you pushed it back, the sleeve of your hoodie falling down slightly.

Dexter had never been so tempted to reach out and touch someone in his life.

It was a feeling that had been creeping up on him the last few weeks, and now, sitting with you, watching a bad movie, it was at an all-time high. He'd never craved intimacy. But there was something about you, a pull that he couldn't deny.

It gave him a sick feeling in his stomach. Reminded him of that need with Lila. God, Lila. What a mess that had turned out to be. Another thing to add to his growing list of mistakes.

And yet, the longer he stared, the more he found himself leaning forward. He didn’t register what he was doing until his lips were a hair width away from yours.

You froze but didn't move away. The only indication that you were startled was the widening of your eyes. They bored into his, unflinching. He could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears.

He was scared. Scared? Yes. That was what he was feeling. Why? He didn't know. Fear was new. It was a feeling reserved for Deb and sometimes his son, but even then, it was different.

But as Dexter gazed at you, so close and so beautiful, the fear melted away. It was replaced by a warmth that he was quickly becoming familiar with. It made his body thrum and his blood rush. It made him feel alive.

You were the first one to make a move. Well, not really a move, just the smallest shift forward, and then you were breathing the same air as him. You weren't kissing. You were just… waiting. Waiting for him to make the final move.

It was like an unspoken rule between the two of you, the power dynamic. He was the dominant one, and you were the submissive. You had never fought against it. You were a people pleaser, and he knew that.

It was one of the reasons he knew this was wrong. Because he couldn't stop, and you would never ask him to. Even now, as he hesitated, you waited patiently. You trusted him.

Why did you have to trust him? Why couldn't you be more selfish, more like him?

But deep down, Dexter knew that it wasn't your nature. You couldn't change, not any more than he could.

So, after another agonizing second, he closed the distance between you.

It was gentle, the way his lips pressed against yours. A stark contrast to the usual forcefulness he applied when taking his victims. No, with you, he was careful. Almost timid.

Your lips were soft and smooth, and the kiss was sweet. Nothing more than a simple caress. Dexter didn’t expect the tingling sensation it would cause, but the slight brush of your mouth sent shivers down his spine.

The kiss was short and chaste, but it was enough to leave him feeling dizzy. The heat spread through him, from the tips of his toes all the way to his cheeks.

Dexter pulled back, and you stared at him. His breath hitched in his throat at the look in your eyes. There was something there, something that mirrored his own emotions.

Was it possible? Was he really capable of such intense emotion?

Maybe he was.

You didn’t move. It was like time had stopped, and the only sound that could be heard was his own uneven breathing. That, and the movie playing in the background, which was forgotten as soon as your lips touched.

The urge to reach out and grab you was there. He could feel the need deep in his bones, in his soul. But instead, Dexter sat, staring. Staring into the eyes of the woman who had somehow managed to break down all the walls he'd spent his life building.

You didn't speak. There was nothing to say. No words could describe the feelings that had surfaced between the two of you. So, instead, you smiled. A simple, beautiful smile that had him feeling weak.

He could have stayed there forever, just looking at you, taking in the beauty that was you. It was a new experience for him, and it was nice.

“Debra is going to be pissed," you finally said, breaking the silence. “I’ll be bullied into telling her every detail."

He blinked. Once. Twice. Then, his lips curled up in amusement. It was true. Eventually, she’ll figure it out. Maybe she already knew but was waiting for confirmation. Debra was good at figuring out things, even if it wasn’t the most obvious answer.

His sister was good at a lot of things, like being a detective. And, apparently, being an interfering matchmaking nuisance.

At least she wouldn’t call you the things she called Lila.

The thought made him chuckle, and you looked at him in confusion, but it would have to stay a mystery to you. For what was life without a few private jokes between siblings, right?

You didn’t press for answers, though. You did what you’ve always done and waited for him—waited for him as if it was his turn in Chess.

And he did the only thing he could think to do. He kissed you again. And again. And again. And again. Until he had you pinned beneath him, your arms around his neck, and your breath coming out in heavy gasps.

The kisses were still innocent, just as you were. But he could feel the passion behind them, the hunger. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt that. It had been a long, long time.

But the longer he kissed you, the more the heat grew, and soon, he was lost in the sensation. Your hands found their way into his hair, and you tugged at the strands. His heart was racing, and the sound of his own ragged breathing filled his ears.

It was exhilarating.

Your lips parted, allowing his tongue to slip inside, and the innocence was gone. Replaced by a desire that left him trembling. The feeling of your tongue against his, the taste of you on his lips, the smell of your shampoo mixed with your unique scent—it was all intoxicating.

The movie continued to play in the background, forgotten as you pulled him closer. The warmth in his chest intensified, and Dexter didn't fight it. Instead, he embraced it. He gave in to his emotions and let himself feel.

He didn’t go too far; he knew you weren't ready for that yet. The craving was there, and it was strong, but the moment wasn’t right. Instead, he satisfied himself by touching your skin, mapping out every inch of it, memorizing the way it felt under his fingertips.

And, when you finally pulled away, breathless and flushed, he held onto you, refusing to let go. His eyes searched yours, searching for something. Anything. He didn’t know what he was looking for, but whatever it was, he didn’t find it.

He mostly saw fear, anger, and some regret when he had them pinned down beneath him. Of course, that was usually the case with his victims. Fear, anger, and regret were normal emotions—a reaction to being trapped by their own demise.

Having someone look up at him with emotions on the other side of the spectrum was different. Not a bad different, just... different.

Rita had been the first to look at him like that. Lumen did, too, once upon a time. And Lila, well, her emotions were never consistent.

But you? You looked up at him with an expression that was all too familiar and yet not quite the same. Your eyes were full of affection and desire, yes. But they were also filled with something else. Something he couldn't place.

Something he couldn’t understand.

"Dex,” your voice was so soft, a whisper. He almost didn’t hear it, and yet, he felt it. He felt the way his name rolled off your tongue, and it was like music to his ears.

"Yeah?" he whispered back. He didn’t know why he did that; it wasn't like the two of you were speaking in a library or something. Maybe it was the way the light danced in your eyes, the way the colors reflected off the white walls, casting an ethereal glow.

"I didn’t expect you to be… like this," you murmured. You ran a finger over his cheek, down to his jawline. He swallowed thickly. He could feel his pulse quicken.

"Like what?" he asked, his voice rough.

"Not bad," you replied. Your lips curved up, and his eyes were drawn to them. They were red and swollen from kissing, and it was such a contrast to the pale skin of your face.

"You think I'm not bad?" he said, raising his brows. "I'm flattered."

You shook your head. "You know what I mean," you said. "I just meant that you're different than how you come off. I didn’t think you'd be so... bold.”

He snorted.

Bold.

If you only knew.

"I guess I'm full of surprises," he said, smirking. You rolled your eyes and punched him lightly in the shoulder, only for him to catch it and press a kiss to the back of your hand. It was something he picked up from a movie once, and it seemed to be a pretty romantic gesture. And by the look on your face, it seemed to be appreciated.

You didn't say anything else. You didn't have to. There was nothing else to say. The two of you simply enjoyed each other's company, content to just be together. The movie might've been a failure, but the night wasn’t.

And when Dexter finally left, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief. Not the type of relief he felt after a successful kill, but the type of relief one feels after a burden is lifted off their shoulders. The type of relief one gets when they are finally honest with themselves.

Rita was gone. Lumen was gone. And although his guilt and shame were still there, his self-loathing and fear were slowly starting to fade away. It wasn't gone, it was never going to be, but it was a start.

A fresh start.

A new beginning.

A new moon.

Yes, tonight was the night that changed everything. Tonight, Dexter Morgan learned that maybe he was more than the monster he thought he was.

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livelaughlovesubs · 3 months ago

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~ 09.10 - Michael ~

Dom!reader x sub!michael - reader is gender neutral

Warning: thigh riding, dubcon (becomes consensual), dacryphilia, mind break, sub space, virgin Michael, corruption kink, slight hierophilia, public sex..?, a bit exhibitionist, teasing, kissing, making out, mentioned kidnapping, Michael cries a lot just saying, this is a little sad in the middle

~ Wordcount: 6.2k ~

Nini!rant: requested by @rae-pss - inspired by his evolution date, I SPEND TOO LONG ON THE PREMISE

Kinktober list 2024

It’s been a few days now that you’ve been brought to heaven by Raphael. He did promise you he’ll kidnap you one day, what you didn’t expect was for that ‘someday’ to happen this soon. As to how that happened? Well, the sky was clear that day, so much that he could see your silhouette from the edge of heaven. Leading to him darting down like a hawk who found its prey, and holding you between his arms before flying off again.

You didn’t even have time to yell or reach out to your companions, who were dumbfounded to the point of being frozen in place. It must have looked pretty stupid after all. Once you were brought to heaven, Raphael looked at you expectantly, as if waiting for a treat. “I’m not going to call you 'good boy', Rara, you kidnapped me.” You brushed him off, then sighed and asked, “I can’t go back down, huh?” He nodded his head. “As expected, fine, then show me around here.” This was a reaction he didn’t expect, why did you sound so done with everything—

The next few hours were spent with the little angel showing you around all excited, though he tried his hardest to not wag his tail. You followed closely, looking around this unfamiliar place. There weren’t any kind of fun things or shops in heaven, only houses for residents. It looked pretty depressing, especially because everything was rid of colors and purely white. When he asked if heaven ain’t better than hell or earth, you didn’t have the heart to answer honestly.

Soon you reached the last destination, his own place, where he would spend his nights. That’s when you found out all the seraphim’s sleep together, on the floor, with a thin cushion only. Compared to the devils, angels must have been real minimalists. To Raphael's dismay, Gabriel and Michael were also inside the building. You met Gabriel in the prayer room, where you almost got blinded by his halo. When your kidnapper saw him, he quickly tried to rush you out of the room, but Gabriel still noticed your presence.

“You brought Solomon’s descendant here? Why?” He shot you a glare, ready to put his scythe to use. You stared back all disgusted. “Don’t you dare, Gabriel. They belong to me.” He scoffed, and stood between you and the once-praying angel, to hide your form from his piercing gaze. The two of them were fighting like cats and dogs, basically not paying any attention to you anymore.

Which is why you took that opportunity to sneak away, tender steps as you backed out of the room. You aimlessly walked around their residence, exploring this new world, starting to pity their mundane lives. If you were to spend centuries in this boring place, where everything was white and monotone, you'd become a feral beast as well and probably lose your mind.

Like a miracle, you found something colorful, amid this white paradise. Carefully you stepped out of the building, into what seemed to be the garden. With a gentle swipe of your hand, you opened and closed the door, looking around to get familiar with your surroundings. There were flowers, everywhere, so many that it looked like straight out of a painting. It was simply beautiful. By the looks of it, this could be the garden of Eve that’s so infamous on earth, for this was a scenery so magnificent you didn’t anticipate it.

Heck, it looked a little out of place even, for so many colors to exist on this plain canvas that’s called heaven, as if god dropped a bucket of paint over this secret place. Slowly, you walked along the path to the huge apple tree in the middle. In front of it was a white pavilion, underneath it was a table with six chairs, but two of them had been stacked and pushed to the side.

“Beautiful…” you whispered breathlessly, eyes sparkling with admiration. There were so many kinds of flowers you’d expect the smell to be intense and intoxicating, but it wasn’t. This defied all logic, though you were kind of getting used to it by now. Only if you squeezed your eyes shut and focused solely on the smell, could you feel a sweet scent reach your nose, a scent you couldn’t quite describe. You tried to identify the smell and concentrated really hard, but to your surprise, you noticed a hint of sadness in the undertone of the scent.

Startled, you looked around, wondering if you were going crazy. Then you heard water flowing, no, to be more specific, someone watering the flowers. With even quieter steps, you approached the source of the noise and caught a glimpse of a figure with black hair. It must be Michael, you thought, and wanted to turn around and quickly leave before he tries to kill you, if not for him who mumbled, “Don’t run.” You froze in place, he didn’t even look up from the flowers, still tending to them.

You waited until he was done, nervously sweating as you clenched your hands. He wouldn’t kill you here, right? “Are you going to kill me?” Look at you, so bold, taking the initiative like this. Michael frowned, “Not here, I don’t want your filthy blood getting on my flowers.” So you were correct, Michael was the one who took care of those plants. “Ah.., ermm, understandable, those flowers are very pretty.”

The angel still had that distinct scorn on his face and a breath of arrogance, but he was beautiful nonetheless. His black hair stood out among all the colors, and the feathers of his wing that fluttered softly in the wind, as well as his right cheek which still hasn’t stopped crying. “Obviously they'd be pretty, I’m personally tending to them. Now get out, you are lucky I’m busy.” He walked past you, shoving you to the side and almost making you fall into the flowerbed, before filling up the watering can.

You stared at him emptily, then walked to the pavilion and sat down on one of the chairs, leaning back and watching him. “What do you think you are doing?” Michael then groaned, shooting you a furious look. “I’m looking at the flowers," You answered defiantly. “I thought I told you to get out—”

“Y/n!” Raphael’s voice rang through the garden, and he ran, almost tripping over Michael who was hovering near the entrance. “Urgh- don’t stand in my way, Michael.” When the black-haired angel heard that, he flared up, and his wing also flapped around very quickly, “Bloody hell Raphael, I was here first.” Quickly you stumbled across the yard and stopped the fight from escalating, grabbing the arm of the red angel, “Don’t fight, don’t fight, I’m here Rara. So, where did you want to take me?”

Raphael gave the other angel a final glare, before turning to you, "I haven't shown you your bedroom yet, come." Afterward, he walked away without looking back, holding your hand in his. Your gaze lingered on Michael for a while, longer than intended, before eventually turning around and following the much too enthusiastic boy.

That was your first day in heaven, and the days that followed weren’t all that different. It has become your daily routine to come to the garden, every single day. You were simply infatuated by the exotic flowers, and frankly, because you were curious about Michael. Why was he so dead on taking care of these flowers? Did he like pretty things, or was this simply his hobby? Every day, without fail, you’d bring some snacks and drinks with you and enjoy them under the pretty pavilion. Sometimes, more often than not, you’d be accompanied by Raphael as well.

Michael didn’t like that one bit, but since this garden belonged to all three seraphim’s, he couldn’t forbid Raphael from entering. Whenever you two spend time chatting and eating, he’d try to ignore you. Yet he couldn’t help but steal the occasional glances at the two of you being all lovely dovely. If you were to meet his face during these moments, he'd have an expression of pure disgust on his face, though he would never look away. Sometimes he also stares with an expression that wasn't disgust, it was something you couldn't put your finger on.

Particularly so when you’d pat and stroke Raphael on the head, hug him goodbye, or have him lay his head on your lap while you laugh all carefree. There was something about it, that seemed way too familiar, so intimate that it made him reminisce.

Back to the present, this time you came to the garden alone, which was rare, but not unusual. Michael hovered on the ground, the watering can placed next to him, he found it to be insane how used he’s gotten to your presence. Normally, he'd immediately luge for you and try to murder you, but now he's tolerating you for the sake of Raphael. You walked up to the angel, squatting, looking at the same batch of flowers he was looking at. He frowned at you for a split second, before turning his gaze back to the flowers.

“They are pretty, what’s their name?” You eventually asked, after admiring them for a good second. The flower had a pure white color, it hung from the thin stem, looking like multiple little bells. Michael stayed quiet for a moment, a gentle breeze running through his silky long hair, making them fly up a little. His soft feathers moved gently, proof of how soft they must be, you felt an impulse to reach out and touch them. He pondered over if he wanted to talk to the likes of you, then answered, “Lily of the valley.”

After hearing his answer, your eyes widened, you didn’t expect him to actually reply to you, and so calmly as well, it almost made you flustered. Wanting to continue the conversation, you quickly chirped, “Ah- it’s a pretty name.. erm, do these flowers have a meaning?” His head hung low when you voiced that question, the scent of sadness tickled your nose again.

Since you’ve spend so much time in the garden, you’ve come to understand it was the scent of Michael, who cried all the time. He debated with himself whether or not he should tell you, it was a little too intimate to tell strangers after all, yet there was something about you that made him feel weirdly at ease, and he whispered almost inaudibly, “They remind me of someone.” You didn’t need to ask twice to understand who he meant, instead, you chuckled. The boy grabbed your collar with an angry expression, and snapped, “What are you laughing at?”

You didn’t resist and explained, “Nothing, I’m not making fun of you. It was a bittersweet laugh.” Michael hesitated, the hand clutching your collar trembled slightly. “What do you mean.” He demanded, not even really asking. “It’s just… there’s someone I know who also plants flowers to remember his loved ones.” His grip loosened, and he pulled his hand back, you could swear you noticed his tears flow a little faster. “I think I know the name of the flower as well, it was— gardenia.”

He was a smart man, even if you beat around the bush he was fully aware of the person you meant. Seeing as you got him on your hook, it was time to spill the tea, just for the drama effect. You weren't sure where you were going with this, though you've always wanted to help these forsaken brothers, even if just a little, “but you know, he was a clumsy man. Even though he was the one who told me the name of the flower, he'd mistakenly call the flower ‘Michael’. What a silly man.”

Suddenly Michael darted towards you, tripping you over. You tried your best to not damage any of the plants around you, hands kept to your chest as the male got on top of you, pinning your head between his arms. Your head luckily didn't hit the stone floor, though his weight was a little uncomfortable. That's when you heard him scream, “Stop… acting like him..!”

“Hu-huh..?” The confusion was undeniable in your tone, and you tried to look at the man who was hovering over you. His hair blocked your sight, tickled your skin, and then wet droplets splashed onto your face. Were these... tears? Ah, probably from his- hold up, he was crying with both eyes. You gawked, surprised by his vulnerable emotional state. Guess angels were only neglected children after all. Gently, you brushed his hair to the side, seeing his eyes become watery and spilling hot tears.

Contrary to what you expected, he didn't deny your touch but instead leaned into it. His voice was quivering ever so little as he stated, “You knew from the start, didn’t you? So why.. why did you.. you and Raphael, you two..” his sobbing increased, blurring his sight with his tears. In the end, he stopped pinning you to the ground and straddled your lap.

With lingering doubts, you sat up, watching him wipe his tears with his now equally wet sleeves. You didn't know what came over you when you whispered subconsciously, “Beautiful.” It was what you thought at that moment, your most honest feelings. He stopped for a moment to look at you, then smiled bitterly, muttering, “You two are similar even in that regard..." Suddenly he hugged you, wrapping his arms around your neck and holding onto your back, clenching your clothes tightly.

Without missing a beat, he nuzzled into your neck, sobbing into your shoulder, all quietly, only the occasional hiccup could be heard slipping from his puffy lips. You knew all he needed was a shoulder to cry on, so you patted the back of his head, stroking through his soft locks, using your other hand to grab his waist. “It’s alright. And let me tell you something, I know Lucifer loves you just as dearly as you do." To your surprise he rubbed his wet cheek against yours, then turned to look at you, “…I guess you weren’t doing it on purpose?”

He had a meek smile on his face, an almost embarrassed expression. The tears didn’t stop flowing, though it seemed he calmed down a little. “I don’t know what you mean?” You retracted your hand from the back of his head and wiped his tears away. The angel stared at your fingers for a moment, then leaned even closer to you, uttering, “Lucifer Hyeong would have kissed them away.” For the next few seconds, you froze.

Why did he tell you that...? Was he hinting at you to do the same? Does that mean he thought you were similar to Lucifer?

“May I ask why you think so?” The question was a little out of pocket, but he knew what you tried to ask him. “You know what I... miss about Hyeong?" He looked down, clenching his teeth, muscles tensing before relaxing them again to finish his sentence, "Everything, I-I miss his laughter, his hugs, his soft strokes- And guess what you've been doing in front of me?” You went quiet at the last part, this time you knew exactly what he meant without further explanation.

Though you truly weren't doing it to spite him or with other ulterior motives, you were simply being yourself. The look you had was indescribable, it wasn’t quite pity, but more a cocktail of many emotions. “You…” he began once again, stopping to take a deep, shaky breath, to calm his erratic heart and stop the sobbing, before continuing, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I didn't mean to appear identical to-” you didn’t get the chance to end your speech when he interrupted you, “don’t you dare speak with my brother’s tone, while looking and acting like him.” At this point, you didn’t even know what to do, how could it be that everything you did reminded him of that person? Furthermore, you feared he was starting to have a twisted and possibly delusional image of you, to make you his substitute for Lucifer. You were sick of playing house after all that ordeal with the devils— especially Sitri.

All in all, no matter how similar their image of you and the person they meet in their dream is, you could never become the same. You were your own person, and not whatever others wanted you to be. The only thing you could think of doing was to somehow comfort him, this beautiful man who didn’t understand his own feelings, in a way his dearest older brother would never. So you hugged him, pulling him into a tight embrace, something he desperately wanted and needed.

The results were him crying even more frantically, weeping like a baby bird while he cried out, “I missed you so much, brother.” You didn't like his choice of words. After a while, you said silently, like a soft exhale of air that grazed his ears, “I’m not Lucifer.”

His grip on you tightened, but nothing else happened until you commented, "And I'm not your brother or Hyeong." The angel whined out, “Stop..” yet you didn’t, you followed your statement up with, “Not to mention I doubt Lucifer will ever come back to heaven.” Micheal looked like he was devastated, unable to accept the truth, he was basically begging you now as he yelled, “S-stop! I demand you to stop talking—” You shifted in your seat, now grabbing his wrists with one hand, “Michael, I think the reason he left is because it’s time for you to move on.”

He stayed completely still, arms now placed above his head, cheeks, and nose completely red while he wore this lost look in his eyes. “I’ll say it again, I’m not Lucifer. No matter how I act, I won’t be able to give you the same solace as he does.” Slowly, you guided his wrist to your lips, and bit down, leaving behind a red mark and a flustered Michael. He whimpered at the pain, taking his sweet time to snap back to reality as if he wanted to stay in his own fantasy world. “I can at most comfort you in other ways.” You then added, holding him closer with your free hand.

The boy didn’t struggle anymore, his pupils shook slightly, cheeks rosy as he hid it behind his wing. His face has been decorated with those pretty, shiny water droplets, some even dried off already. “W-what..?” Before he could prepare himself for what you had in store for him, you guided his body to move back and forth on your lap. He almost shrieked at the sudden movement, and then he stared at you with a baffled look.

If he had to describe it, it felt like he was riding a horse, but why were you doing this? Rubbing his metallic chastity belt against your skin, wasn't it uncomfortable? “Hold on to me.” You then said, and he became even more confused. Nonetheless, he obliged all obediently, grabbing your shoulders but taking care to not use too much strength.

This shift in behavior wasn’t because of you, he was still seeing you as that person, as him. With gritted teeth, you pulled down the zipper to his pants, and his cheeks flushed immediately. “Wait! What do you think you are doing?!!” He screamed, obviously not prepared for that bold move of yours. The boy was being so loud your eardrums almost exploded.

Judging by his reaction, you were achieving the effect you wanted, breaking down his idolized version of you, “I’m guessing Lucifer never taught you sex education~?” You joked and stared at his chastity belt. It’s the second one you’ve seen, the first one was Raphael’s. This one looked a little different in shape and color, it was golden, like most of the accessories of Michael. Despite it being a few weeks already, you still remembered clearly how you unlocked that device, which is why it didn’t take long until you freed the poor member of the male from its cage.

Michael stared down at you, unmoving, eyes widened while being as red as a tomato. When he heard the click of the lock, he felt his heart leap for a second. “No- no way.. you opened this? So easily?” He blushed and seemed slightly disgusted by the looks of his erection, which was leaking glowing precum down his shaft. This is also his first time seeing his dick, you almost forgot about the fact, that angels are basically all virgins. Gosh, how cute~

With one pull, you threw his chastity belt to the side, staring at his half-erect dick. “Yep. And- oh my? You are way bigger than your brother?” To be honest, you weren’t even sure if you were impressed or terrified. Michael hid his face with the back of his palm, thighs instinctively trying to squeeze close when a gust of wind blew against his now fully hard cock, though of course there weren't any results, considering he was straddling your thighs.

“No, d-don’t look..! No one should... expect god…” more tears swelled up in his eyes, he was also embarrassed at doing it outside, here so many people could catch you two. It would be blasphemy if anyone saw him in this state, he'd probably rip off his own wings and join his brother in hell if that happened! Knowing that you almost felt bad for him, for all these sexually frustrated and very much depraved creatures.

“Shh, don’t worry, I’ll just help you jack one off. You’ll feel much better afterward.” With that being said, you got to work. Fingers sinking into his smooth flesh, moving him around on your thigh, making him rub the underside of his most intimate parts against your clothes legs. It felt so rough against his perfect and soft skin, and on top of all of it, it felt so weird and so hot. He mewled, unable to fathom all these sensations, eyes searching for some guidance from you. Though you deliberately ignored him, gliding him across your thigh, trying to stimulate the male.

He began trashing around, resisting, pushing you away while crying out, "No! H-hyeong would never do something sinful like this..!! You stop these.. unholy and inappropriate acts!" You only laughed in response, asking teasingly, "But tell me, Michael, doesn't this feel good?" Completely treating his request like some passing breeze, feeling grateful that he was still capable of making his own judgment.

"I- no, I'm not answering you?! Are you trying to slander my brother?" He sounded just a tiny bit angry with you, trying hard to ignore the building arousal in his lower abdomen. "No, I never claimed to be him. Do you understand what I'm getting at, Michael?" His mouth hung open, as if he wanted to say something, yet not a single word escaped his throat. On the other hand, a series of moans and choked-out whimpers reached your ears. "Nghh... ahHh- I, s-still, sto- hnNghhh!"

Not good, he was being swept up by those hellish sentiments, by the temptations of the flesh. Why did it have to feel so hot, and be so brain-numbing? Poor birdy could barely think straight after all that edging on your part. You were way too perverted and too much of a tease to be his kind and gentle Hyeong!

"Y-y/n...! Please, I-I don't want this... it's scary, stop..!" At last, he resulted to pleading, unable to deal with the weight of his emotions clashing and fighting internally. It was the truth that he sought comfort by your hands and wanted you to fill the hole in his heart, but then you went ahead and turned the table at him. He didn't want to be touched by someone who wasn't god... and Lucifer. He also didn't want his first sexual encounter to be with you, or if it had to be done, out in the open in a place like this, where he'll defile all these pure and pretty flowers.

"Don't touch me..!" Even though he was so deadbeat on his mindset, he didn't try to push you away, was it out of consideration for the flowers or because he didn't dare hurt you after seeing Lucifer in you? No, hardly so, you could see right through his facade. He was probably thinking about how awful this situation was, but you knew he was lying to himself.

To prove your point, you stopped, leaning back and using your arms to support yourself off the ground, you apologized almost half-heartedly, "Alright, sorry then, I won't touch you. So, you do as you see fit. Climb off if that's what you truly want." Once again you surprised the angel with your actions, he didn't think you'd be so willing.

Only when you stopped pleasuring him he noticed that he actually missed the bubbly and warm feeling of your touch or that his erection was throbbing almost painfully so. He glanced down in disbelief, humiliation filling his senses. If he had to be blunt he had absolutely no idea how to react to this, so he did the only thing he could think of, doing whatever you did. Mind you his brain was already turned into mush due to all the tension from before.

Skeptically, he rolled his hips along your thighs, squeezing his lips shut in a poor attempt to stiffen his moans. At this rate, he was going to overstimulate himself since he didn't know what he was doing. Pride thrown out of the window while he bit back his shame, desperately grinding against you with that flushed look on his face. Small, muffled whines still seeped through his almost, almost water-tight defense. "Don't you dare... say anything... mhm!!"

He knew how hypocritical he was being, doing exactly what he apparently ‘hated’, that's why he didn't want to hear any mean comments from You. But his body moved on its own, he couldn't stop chasing after his own bliss. Why did it have to feel so good anyway? To drag his cock along your thigh, grinding his pre into your clothes... You watched the show unfold with attentive eyes, smirking as if you were saying, "Told ya". His grip on your shoulders got tighter, almost painful to bear.

Then he laid his forehead against the crook of your neck, body shivering tremendously while he groaned, "I-I... bloody hell... you did this to me." That angelic voice of his grazed your skin, hot and laced with need. "I don't know why I'm.. hngg, reacting l-like this..." He continued, egging you on, not getting to the point. "So, what are you getting at?" Again, you were aware of what he wanted from you, but you wanted to hear it from him personally.

“What I mean is- you... you take over!” Suddenly he leaned back to stare right into your eyes, he was still crying from both eyes. This time you were sure it wasn't due to his self-pity and sadness. You reached out for his cheek, cupping his face. His skin was hot, so much so that your hand felt ice cold against him. He leaned into your touch, lips squeezed into a pout, brows furrowed as he held his gaze low. "I thought you didn't like it?" You cooed, rubbing his tears away with your thumb.

Michael stayed quiet, he couldn't argue with that, he was the one that desperately pushed your touch away. That's why he just slumped back against you, mumbling, "P-please... I don't like— this heat either... make it go away..." Just to mess with him some more, you hummed, tilting your head to the side, "Hmm, I don't know, can't you do it yourself?" Now the angel was gritting his teeth, you wondered if you went too far. Much to your surprise, he pulled you into a deep, clumsy kiss.

The salty taste of his tears grazed your lips, his tongue messily stumbled into your mouth and he slurped and swindled it around aimlessly. You stayed still for a second, partly due to you getting startled, as well as you being in awe about how bad he was at kissing. Perhaps it was his first kiss, how cute, he's willingly gifting it to you. Since he has given you something so valuable, you had to show him a good time now, ain't that right?

Slowly, to not scare him, you moved your tongue as well, meeting his eager kiss with a smile on your lips. Closing your eyes to fully immerse yourself, only after seeing the embarrassed look on his blushy features. While he was distracted, you placed your graceful fingers around his slim waist again, giving him little instruction on what to do. Then, once he got into a rhythm, you moved your leg to meet his thrusts.

His heat and wetness already seeped through your pants, soaking your skin with his sticky substances. Yet you didn't bother, focusing solely on him and his pleasure. After a few sucks on your side, against his willing body, he started moaning into the kiss. Long, drawn-out moans that ended with a high-pitched whine for more, "ahhnnngh.. mhmm-uhm!!"

His hips suddenly jerked forwards, his poor cock was leaking and twitching helplessly, wagging around like some kind of tail. The neglect was impossible to overlook. May it be for his red, swollen tip that was decorated with glistening pearls of pre, or his bulging veins that looked like they were about to pop, it didn't matter. All he knew was he wanted more of this ecstatic, hypnotizing feeling that only you could provide.

Gradually, his movements became faster and more sloppy, your grip on him was so tight that his skin bruised. He choked, gagging on your tongue, throwing his head back to break the kiss. This was too much, too intense..! That poor birdy needs a break, or his brain will melt! Despite that, you grabbed him by his wing and forced him to stay still, lips crashing against his again. The feeling of your hand on his wing only intensified his pleasure, making him more erratic as electricity coursed through him.

You weren't done nor satisfied yet, hence you shoved your tongue down his throat again. "Mffhhmm!! ♡♡~! Y/n- I- nghhH..!!" This sensation, of something tingling inside him, threatened to burst at any rate. How was he supposed to hold himself back? All resistance fell on deaf ears and crumbled, and he felt himself being brought over the edge of bliss and sanity. For a moment that was supposed to be forbidden for him, or downright sinful, he felt strangely warm inside.

He hadn't felt this fuzzy and at ease for a long time, and so, he did what his instincts told him, he embraced the feeling. Tears poured from his eyes like little waterfalls, his face ruined to the point of being unrecognizable, and his wing flapping around in a pathetic attempt to balance out the pleasure. He grabbed a fistful of your clothes, almost digging holes into them as he relentlessly rode your thigh. He felt weak, so powerless like never.

His knees have been shaking for quite some time now. If it wasn't for your hands on his hips, he would have slumped forward and fallen into your embrace, that was how weak he was. More sweet whispers of pleasure slipped from his swollen lips, sending a tingle down your spine. "Hmmm... m' su-sumthin's cummin'..!♥︎♡!!" Michael tried to warn you, head so empty he couldn't form proper sentences. Not to mention you were still making out with him, rendering it almost impossible for him to speak coherently.

His dick twitched around a few times again, the tip was rather rubbing against your belly than your thighs, leaving behind strings of pre in its wake. Finally, after an eternity of tension and promised pleasures, he felt himself reaching his limit. The feeling was nothing he had ever experienced before, he couldn't even try to put it into words that was how mind-blowing it was. With one last meek try to warn you, which ended up sounding more like a high-pitched shriek of bliss and pure, primal ecstasy, he came all over the two of you.

“MhNMHHH~ aaAhHHnNNGGh♡♡♥︎♡♥︎～!!” Tridal waves of pleasure surged through his veins, making him shudder due to the intensity. His toes curled, wing flapping uncontrollably as thick ropes of white cum spurt out of his way too-overstimulated dick. It splattered across your clothes, and his as well. Judging by the amount of glowing fluids he shot out, he must have been pent up. Once again, you took the first orgasm ever of an angel, and it felt weirdly fun.

All this pleasure was too much for an inexperienced virgin angel like him~ his mind basically blanked out during his ejaculation, causing him to whimper and groan like some animal in heat, "Ah- uhm.? Nghh, uh-hnggh ♥︎♡♡!" He never knew there was pleasure like this, this amazing and tingly. It was just like the day he lost his eye.

You weren't even sure what he was trying to say, maybe nothing, maybe insults, whatever it was you didn't really care. Instead, you were fascinated by how different yet similar his reaction was to Raphael's. So it was true that angels were as bland as their buildings, with no real knowledge of what the pleasures of the flesh meant. You smiled, looking at his wrecked face. Still as red as ever, with dried-out tears stuck to his skin, and drool hanging out of his mouth, he has never looked more beautiful.

His wing has also calmed down, it was almost limping next to his head. Eyes still a little unfocused as he slowly regained his clarity, moving his hand to his face to rub his puffy eyes. That silky, untangled hair was a little messy more, and his clothes wrinkled. "That was a little too much stimulation for your first, huh?" You joked, and he didn't have the strength to give you a sassy answer, but he glared at you nonetheless. It was more of an I'm-too-tired-for-this glare than anything else though.

You didn't move from your spot, not wanting to rush him, giving him enough time to collect himself until he deemed himself ready to stand up from your lap. In the meantime, you noticed that the sad scent that radiated from him has dissipated, at least for now. Somehow, you felt really proud of yourself for that, smiling under your breath as you placed a kiss on his forehead.

Michael squeezed his eyes with a pout but didn't resist. His argument or defense for himself was that he was too worn out and tired, for now, and that he had enough opportunities to kill you in the future. It was nothing else but excuses, considering angels are just delusional beings at their core. As soon as he stood up on his wobbly legs, you wanted to ask how he was doing, that's when Raphael emerged from behind the doorframe.

His head peeked into the garden as he smirked darkly, mischievously even. "Pff, you look like a horny beast, Michael. Was it fun, screaming so loud I could hear your disgraceful moaning from miles away?" You stared at the blond angel with a skeptical look, he was acting as if he didn't act just the same. Then, he turned to you and said, "Anyway, y/n, you, come with me. I have something to show you." Now he stood in the doorframe with his entire figure, leaned against it.

You stood up from where you were previously sitting, and answered all carefree as you walked past him, "Okay ~ lemme get changed first." Raphael made way for you when you walked by and nodded in acknowledgment. Once you were gone, he made eye contact with his dear brother and had a slight scorn on his face. Michael frowned back at him, brushing off the dust from his clothes, even though there were bigger problems about his appearance than that. Like his disheveled hair, or the traces of shining cum on his shirt.

“What, don't like the fact they aren't only yours?” After a quick glaring contest, Michael spoke up, a sneer present in his voice. He got closer to Raphael, now standing right in front of him, crossing his arms around his chest. Though it seemed he had recovered very quickly, his legs and knees were still a little uneasy. "...I can't say I'm pleased with it, but they are free to do as they wish." The Blondie said, averting his gaze for a split second.

“How unusual of you, sharing was never your strong point.” The black-haired seraphim commented. A snarky laugh erupted from the red angel, and he scoffed, "You are one to talk." Afterward, he turned around, waving his hand as if to say goodbye, "It's a shame that I'm not the only angel who has experienced god's given pleasure now, but oh well, I'm still their first, remember it well." With that, Raphael disappeared into the building, leaving Michael standing at the entrance to the garden, clenching his fists and gritting his teeth.

Tags: @shianarou @ghostiegirl56 @thisisnotangel @ghostgoosygoose @aghrentroplayer @i-dont-fooken-know @chuuya-brainrot @allyfoxglove @thigh-o-saur @fallenthemisticalyingyang @fem-dom-roze

Nini!rant 2.0:

I found many different translations for the meaning of the mentioned flowers, but these are the ones that I liked best.

Lily of the valley: purity, happiness, nostalgia, sadness, pain, death

According to the bible, lily of the valley is most infamously mentioned in the Song of Solomon (2:11). It’s also sometimes used as a metaphor or comparison to Jesus Christ, due to its sweet scent and white colour (Ephesians 5:2). White, which is knows to be a sin-free colour, used to describe a person without sin -> Michael still sees luci as a person without sin

There’s also a saying that lilies are the tallest of flowers, but hangs its head down, symbolising humbleness (Philippians 2:6~8). Also it’s supposed to have a lot of medical qualities, so it fits lucifer, who’s a healer.

Gardenia: purity, harmony, sweetness, joy, secret love

Here, it’s also qualities and things lucifer wishes for Michael. Like harmony, joy. Then, how he sees him and thinks about him. I thought it’d be cute haha

I choose them very carefully, there was quite a lot of thought behind them, that’s why it got its own special mention here :]

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