#but I don’t have the time nor energy to go into it (I’m at work on my break rn)

[sturniolo04]

Popular!chris x popular!reader

A/n: so I tried something different! Let me know what you think. And remember to leave requests in my inbox! If you don’t like the pre added name in my works you can simply put in your own or don’t read it, it up to you :)-Charli

Dividers: @issysh3ll and @mintsturniolo

You and chris were the popular ones per se in school, the ones that appeared with the most sexual energy around you, although you two didn’t run in the same circles nor did those circles ever really cross paths. It wasn’t until one day in the back of home ec class in your assigned seats that you got well acquainted with the one and only Christopher Sturniolo.

“Okay so pair up with the partner next to you, you and that partner will be responsible for protecting this egg as your own for this assignment”

The teacher explains as you let out a soft pout to your best friend at the table across the aisle row of desks before directing your attention to your desk partner, rolling your eyes.

“You will have till end of the week and this for a grade people”

The teacher states finally sitting back at her desk to give everyone time to talk amongst yourselves since that was the lesson plan for the rest of the week. Chris clears his throat as he smirks at you finally meeting your gaze.

“So we are parents then I guess for the week”

You huff out looking at the pale egg in front of you as Chris simply nods his head in agreement.

“I’m Chris. Sturniolo ”

Chris states reaching his hand out to shake yours. You rolled your eyes reaching yours out to accept his. Oh my god His hands were so soft and large

“Cassie. Howard”

You state as Chris lets out a small smirk.

“So can I call you cass”

Chris states his cocky popular personality finally coming to the surface

“No it’s Cassie to you”

You scoffs as you stand up grabbing your backpack walking out of class once the bell rang.

And that’s how it started, over the course of this assignment you two got closer, closer in the sense of your guys sexual chemistry started blending together. You should have known this news was going to travel around and you didn’t know what it was going to do to your popular reputation but you knew you didn’t want it to be tarnished in any way.

“ hey so did you hook up with Chris”

A random girl asks you in the hallway on the way to home ec class. You quirk your eyebrow shocked.

“Excuse me What how did you- I mean no what”

You ramble out a response and you knew this statement was true I mean you hooked up twice in the past couple of weeks both times in the back of his car.

‘Oh my god yeah right there Chris”

You moaned out into his ear as he helped you ride him in the back seat.

“Fuck your so good at this don’t st’p g’nna cum’

Chris groans out feeling you squeeze around him.

“ well everyone is saying that you and him are in a off and on thing now and that they think you are just another one of his conquests”

She replies back as you huff out appalled entering into the class room going to your designated spot in the classroom.

“What’s u-‘

Chris trails off as you quickly cut him off.

“Did you tell anyone about us and how we hooked up in your car in the parking lot”

You quickly ask him whispering as he quickly shakes his head ‘no’ because he didn’t tell anyone. So how would they have known then. Cameras. Text messages. How.

“Well how did the word spread I mean why does everyone think we fucked”

You groan out quietly placing your head on top of your arms on your desk as Chris quirks his eyebrow up in confusion.

“But we did”

Chris chuckles out softly as you smack his arm

“ this isn’t funny Christopher what about our reputation”

You exclaim quietly as Chris simply shrugs. He didn’t really care about what they thought of you two hooking up because he knew he wanted to be with you for real despite what people thought of him.

“Seriously nothing”

You huff out at his body language.

“What do you want me to say cassie”

Chris asks you genuinely.

“Um I don’t know that we should stop this thing so no one else becomes suspicious and let this rumor die and let it simply be a rumor”

You frustratedly huff out as you scan his face softly for any sign of agreement. Not finding any.

“We’ll do you want to stop this”

He questions. He knew his answer.

“I don’t know but I do know I don’t want everyone to look at me differently or think I’m just one of your conquests because I am not that girl and you know that”

You angrily state as Chris’ face morphs into anger as well.

“Is that what you think of me”

Chris huffs out as he jaw slightly clenches at the thought of you believing that reputation that people labelled him with. The truth was he only ever hooked up with you so it hurt to know the one girl he liked thought of him that way.

“Yeah what am I supposed to think Chris you used me”

You sigh out genuinely hurt because you too liked Chris very much but also had the reputation that you were a popular goody two shoes and that everyone knew you don’t hook up with anyone.

‘Wow okay um I didn’t believe you of all people would believe what others say about me without asking me directly because I would never use a girl but I used you right Cassie ’

Chris states coldly as he looks into your eyes seeing some feelings of hurt and deflection from the truth you didn’t want to admit. You knew what you said wasn’t true about him but you were just so angry about how everyone knew about it so quick and were already making assumptions about it.

“You are just upset that everyone knows that you are a goody two shoes and that I was the only one wanting to hit that shit”

Chris states coldly out of anger looking you up and down as you let you jaw go slack poking you tongue on the inside of your cheek trying to keep the tears from spilling out.

“Fuck you chris’

You choke out getting up and grabbing your backpack to leave the classroom

A few days go by and things with Chris were still tense luckily you didn’t have to sit next to him at the back of the classroom anymore because the teacher had moved seats around for the unit you guys were heading into but you couldn’t say you didn’t missed talking to him and being with him. It was hurting you on the inside.

“Hey Cass are you okay”

You best friend quips trying to gain your attention as you had completely zoned out at the table.

“Hm did you say something”

You sigh out kind of embarrassed that this whole situation with Chris was having this much of an effect on you.

“ I asked if you are okay you have been acting weird since you stopped talking to Chris”

She states simply reaching across the table to grab your hand.

“I don’t know I just hate what I said to him I didn’t mean any of it and that’s what I regret”

You huff out trying not to cry since you were still at school in health class of all places.

“And did you tell him that maybe that what he wants to hear from you”

She replies back to you as you deeply inhale. She trails your movements as you shift your hand away slightly.

“Oh my god you like him don’t you the rumors were true about you two hooking up weren’t they”

She states out shocked you kept this from her.

“Yeah I do like him but he probably doesn’t feel the same and i fucked up really bad and I don’t know how to fix it’

You state out trying not to sob as you best friend listens to you intently.

“Tell him that you won’t know until you ask him he might feel the same way but you have to ask him Cassie ”

She replies back honestly.

The bell rings signaling that the day is over you get up swinging your backpack over your shoulder making your way to your locker to grab your car keys, thinking about everything your best friend said to you last period. You make it out to the parking lot and you spotted him. It was fate and you couldn’t sleep on it. You had to do it now.

“Chris wait’

You shout running up to him before he got into his car.

“Hi”

He states coldly and you took note of this. You shook it off because that is not what you are standing in front of him for.

“ I’m sorry”

You state simply as Chris’ cocks his eyebrow up at you as you continue on with your speech.

“ I don’t believe those things everyone says about you well I don’t know though if you hooked up with other people before me but that’s not the point I don’t believe what they say about you’

You ramble on as Chris slightly smirks at your grand gesture here.

“I don’t want to stop doing this with you I want to be with you because I-“

You trail off looking into his ocean eyes as he softly smiles down at you.

“I like you Christopher Sturniolo”

You sigh out letting a soft smile play on your lips. Chris immediately grabs your neck pulling you into him connecting your guys lips in a sweet kiss.

“I like you too Cass”

He hums out as you slowly pull away to where your noses are touching.

“You want to come over to my house”

You simply ask as he simply nods his head.

“And for the record you were my first time Cassie Howard’

Chris states chuckling out as you gasped shocked as he climbs into his car finally starting the engine.

Taglist

@mintsturniolo @spicymuffins03 @ksturnz @courta13 @chaoswithus @ivysturnss @stayingstromboli @wh0resstuff @emely9274 @sturniolo-szn2

[danidoesathing]

My HC on why Giopara and Talis look so different is that they have different mothers. They both have Mr. Talis as a father, but in Arcane's timeline he married Ximena, and in the base League timeline he married someone else.

(Jayce Giopara's family situation is... Complicated. We don't know anything about his actual parents (they might be dead? We're not really sure), but we do know that House Giopara sponsored him at a very young age, similar to how the Kirammans sponsored Talis in Arcane. He probably wasn't born to House Giopara, but they were his main sponsors for a long time. (I personally HC (and this is just my own headcanon; this has no real basis in anything, so take this with a grain of salt,) that the sponsorship was also a "you live up to our expectations as the child we sponsored and we let you stay with us and use our name" situation-which would admittedly explain a lot about Jayce Giopara's personality and attitude.))

(With that interpretation, it akes sense why he'd latch onto the first person who actually treated him like an actual human being.)

YEAH SAME obligatory my lore knowledge is iffy at best, this is all probably nonsensical and this mostly my half assed interpretation BUT!!

when it comes to the alternate timeline versions of the characters (aka the skins) there’s a good amount of odd physical variation so it’s clear while they are consistencies in a lot of timelines and I’ve always assumed it’s due to either due to different parentage or hitting a different order in the genetic lottery (ie Caitlyn being blonde in the battle school universe or Vi being a noble in the gilded/no zaun timeline). Jayce has a few really weird variations like being blond in one or two and straight up having blue hair and glasses in another (could be died yeah, but that universe is a piltover/zaun fusion and theres plenty of weird natural hair colors down there), but for him it’s particularly strange because of his last name. In Arcane he’s born into the name Talis (or possibly married into? He looks a lot like the image of the late Mr talis but I know there’s a few theories/headcanons that he’s an immigrant too. Hard to say because we STILL don’t know what the fuck they were doing in that blizzard or anything about Talis’s dad really), but in the lore we have no clue what kind of family Jayce might’ve had, if he had any at all. I doubt he’d be apart of House (or clan? I know it’s called different things in the lore) Talis if the House still exists at ALL anymore. Him becoming part of the Giopara house was more or less a business transaction.

And I think that lack of genuine familial connection to them + his lack of connections to other people in general made him a lot more stubborn and mean. It’s also ingrained this need to prove himself and be right, because he had to prove himself a worth investment to this family otherwise he might not be in it tomorrow (not exactly like Talis people pleasing tendencies, but not too far off from it). Which obviously fucked with his perception of relationships and self worth a LOT. Which is reflected a lot once he starts having a genuine friendship with Viktor because he doesn’t really know. What to do with this or how to not be combative and stubborn about everything (neither does Viktor to be frank. it’s a very new experience on both sides. its one of the reasons their relationship was so explosive and ended in the way it did). And like he still wants to do good and be good but he doesn’t know how to connect with people really and I do think he being treated like an asset before a member of a family fucked with him a deep level.

(I do think as he got older, and especially at the rise of his popularity as a hero, his want for approval fades a lot. At that point he's mostly realized he doesn't give a shit what other people think anymore and stops putting on a performance for everyone. he's still emotionally constipated, lonely as hell and has yet to get over himself but he's getting somewhere, at least.)

Talis never really liked people much either or had many friendships but he can at least say that he had some sort bond with his mother and Caitlyn before Viktor. I think he was a lot more of the kind and naive person in comparison because he had an environment where he could be that. i dont think Giopara ever had that. (To be fair, Talis ALSO has a good amount of problems that stem from his childhood, mostly from the blizzard, but this aint about him rn).

tldr Jayce Giopara and Jayce Talis at their core are the same, but they lived entirely differently lives that shaped them into different kinds of people.

(In a similar sense, I don’t think arcane Viktor ever could’ve become like Machine Herald Vik, or at least not as extreme, solely due to his experience with Rio and Singed. It deeply ingrained the fear of being forced to live too long + being robbed of his anatomy + getting fundamentally changed against his will, all of which are things MH Vik has pretty opposite views about. He had to be forced into this role of inhumanity against his will and actively KILLED for him to start going ‘humanity is the problem’. MH viktor (I assume) never had that horribly traumatic experience and thus developed different values. there's probably more to their childhood that created such a difference but they gave us fuck all with arcane vik's backstory)

And honestly I think him actively trying to evolve everyone is partially because he does want to help and the DEEP internalized ableism but also because he’s desperately trying to have some sort of control over himself by claiming that he’s better now without his humanity, like it was his choice. even though it wasn’t and the idea of having nothing of his own self deeply terrified him. But that’s a tangent for another time)

[bookishdiplodocus]

The Neurodivergent Writer’s Guide to Fun and Productivity

(Even when life beats you down)

Look, I’m a mom, I have ADHD, I’m a spoonie. To say that I don’t have heaps of energy to spare and I struggle with consistency is an understatement. For years, I tried to write consistently, but I couldn’t manage to keep up with habits I built and deadlines I set.

So fuck neurodivergent guides on building habits, fuck “eat the frog first”, fuck “it’s all in the grind”, and fuck “you just need time management”—here is how I manage to write often and a lot.

Focus on having fun, not on the outcome

This was the groundwork I had to lay before I could even start my streak. At an online writing conference, someone said: “If you push yourself and meet your goals, and you publish your book, but you haven’t enjoyed the process… What’s the point?” and hoo boy, that question hit me like a truck.

I was so caught up in the narrative of “You’ve got to show up for what’s important” and “Push through if you really want to get it done”. For a few years, I used to read all these productivity books about grinding your way to success, and along the way I started using the same language as they did. And I notice a lot of you do so, too.

But your brain doesn’t like to grind. No-one’s brain does, and especially no neurodivergent brain. If having to write gives you stress or if you put pressure on yourself for not writing (enough), your brain’s going to say: “Huh. Writing gives us stress, we’re going to try to avoid it in the future.”

So before I could even try to write regularly, I needed to teach my brain once again that writing is fun. I switched from countable goals like words or time to non-countable goals like “fun” and “flow”.

Rewire my brain: writing is fun and I’m good at it

I used everything I knew about neuroscience, psychology, and social sciences. These are some of the things I did before and during a writing session. Usually not all at once, and after a while I didn’t need these strategies anymore, although I sometimes go back to them when necessary.

I journalled all the negative thoughts I had around writing and try to reason them away, using arguments I knew in my heart were true. (The last part is the crux.) Imagine being supportive to a writer friend with crippling insecurities, only the friend is you.

Not setting any goals didn’t work for me—I still nurtured unwanted expectations. So I did set goals, but made them non-countable, like “have fun”, “get in the flow”, or “write”. Did I write? Yes. Success! Your brain doesn’t actually care about how high the goal is, it cares about meeting whatever goal you set.

I didn’t even track how many words I wrote. Not relevant.

I set an alarm for a short time (like 10 minutes) and forbade myself to exceed that time. The idea was that if I write until I run out of mojo, my brain learns that writing drains the mojo. If I write for 10 minutes and have fun, my brain learns that writing is fun and wants to do it again.

Reinforce the fact that writing makes you happy by rewarding your brain immediately afterwards. You know what works best for you: a walk, a golden sticker, chocolate, cuddle your dog, whatever makes you happy.

I conditioned myself to associate writing with specific stimuli: that album, that smell, that tea, that place. Any stimulus can work, so pick one you like. I consciously chose several stimuli so I could switch them up, and the conditioning stays active as long as I don’t muddle it with other associations.

Use a ritual to signal to your brain that Writing Time is about to begin to get into the zone easier and faster. I guess this is a kind of conditioning as well? Meditation, music, lighting a candle… Pick your stimulus and stick with it.

Specifically for rewiring my brain, I started a new WIP that had no emotional connotations attached to it, nor any pressure to get finished or, heaven forbid, meet quality norms. I don’t think these techniques above would have worked as well if I had applied them on writing my novel.

It wasn’t until I could confidently say I enjoyed writing again, that I could start building up a consistent habit. No more pushing myself.

I lowered my definition for success

When I say that nowadays I write every day, that’s literally it. I don’t set out to write 1,000 or 500 or 10 words every day (tried it, failed to keep up with it every time)—the only marker for success when it comes to my streak is to write at least one word, even on the days when my brain goes “naaahhh”. On those days, it suffices to send myself a text with a few keywords or a snippet. It’s not “success on a technicality (derogatory)”, because most of those snippets and ideas get used in actual stories later. And if they don’t, they don’t. It’s still writing. No writing is ever wasted.

A side note on high expectations, imposter syndrome, and perfectionism

Obviously, “Setting a ridiculously low goal” isn’t something I invented. I actually got it from those productivity books, only I never got it to work. I used to tell myself: “It’s okay if I don’t write for an hour, because my goal is to write for 20 minutes and if I happen to keep going for, say, an hour, that’s a bonus.” Right? So I set the goal for 20 minutes, wrote for 35 minutes, and instead of feeling like I exceeded my goal, I felt disappointed because apparently I was still hoping for the bonus scenario to happen. I didn’t know how to set a goal so low and believe it.

I think the trick to making it work this time lies more in the groundwork of training my brain to enjoy writing again than in the fact that my daily goal is ridiculously low. I believe I’m a writer, because I prove it to myself every day. Every success I hit reinforces the idea that I’m a writer. It’s an extra ward against imposter syndrome.

Knowing that I can still come up with a few lines of dialogue on the Really Bad Days—days when I struggle to brush my teeth, the day when I had a panic attack in the supermarket, or the day my kid got hit by a car—teaches me that I can write on the mere Bad-ish Days.

The more I do it, the more I do it

The irony is that setting a ridiculously low goal almost immediately led to writing more and more often. The most difficult step is to start a new habit. After just a few weeks, I noticed that I needed less time and energy to get into the zone. I no longer needed all the strategies I listed above.

Another perk I noticed, was an increased writing speed. After just a few months of writing every day, my average speed went from 600 words per hour to 1,500 wph, regularly exceeding 2,000 wph without any loss of quality.

Talking about quality: I could see myself becoming a better writer with every passing month. Writing better dialogue, interiority, chemistry, humour, descriptions, whatever: they all improved noticeably, and I wasn’t a bad writer to begin with.

The increased speed means I get more done with the same amount of energy spent. I used to write around 2,000-5,000 words per month, some months none at all. Nowadays I effortlessly write 30,000 words per month. I didn’t set out to write more, it’s just a nice perk.

Look, I’m not saying you should write every day if it doesn’t work for you. My point is: the more often you write, the easier it will be.

No pressure

Yes, I’m still working on my novel, but I’m not racing through it. I produce two or three chapters per month, and the rest of my time goes to short stories my brain keeps projecting on the inside of my eyelids when I’m trying to sleep. I might as well write them down, right?

These short stories started out as self-indulgence, and even now that I take them more seriously, they are still just for me. I don’t intend to ever publish them, no-one will ever read them, they can suck if they suck. The unintended consequence was that my short stories are some of my best writing, because there’s no pressure, it’s pure fun.

Does it make sense to spend, say, 90% of my output on stories no-one else will ever read? Wouldn’t it be better to spend all that creative energy and time on my novel? Well, yes. If you find the magic trick, let me know, because I haven’t found it yet. The short stories don’t cannibalize on the novel, because they require different mindsets. If I stopped writing the short stories, I wouldn’t produce more chapters. (I tried. Maybe in the future? Fingers crossed.)

Don’t wait for inspiration to hit

There’s a quote by Picasso: “Inspiration hits, but it has to find you working.” I strongly agree. Writing is not some mystical, muse-y gift, it’s a skill and inspiration does exist, but usually it’s brought on by doing the work. So just get started and inspiration will come to you.

Accountability and community

Having social factors in your toolbox is invaluable. I have an offline writing friend I take long walks with, I host a monthly writing club on Discord, and I have another group on Discord that holds me accountable every day. They all motivate me in different ways and it’s such a nice thing to share my successes with people who truly understand how hard it can be.

The productivity books taught me that if you want to make a big change in your life or attitude, surrounding yourself with people who already embody your ideal or your goal huuuugely helps. The fact that I have these productive people around me who also prioritize writing, makes it easier for me to stick to my own priorities.

Your toolbox

The idea is to have several techniques at your disposal to help you stay consistent. Don’t put all your eggs in one basket by focussing on just one technique. Keep all of them close, and if one stops working or doesn’t inspire you today, pivot and pick another one.

After a while, most “tools” run in the background once they are established. Things like surrounding myself with my writing friends, keeping up with my daily streak, and listening to the album I conditioned myself with don’t require any energy, and they still remain hugely beneficial.

Do you have any other techniques? I’d love to hear about them!

I hope this was useful. Happy writing!

[marzzrocks]

welcome to “i don’t feel alive Friday”! next get ready for “i don’t feel alive Saturday” and “the rest of the week”!

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐝𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 || 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary_ when you declined to play Ddakji with a man, the least you expected was him stalking you, even less expected when you oblige him to lick your bleeding wound after seeing him kill a man and escaping him.

warnings_ MDNI, age gap (not specified but legal) reader is a foreigner (implied American but not specified again), stalking, NO KIDNAPPING NOR ABUSE HERE, blood play, dom!salesman, switch!reader, toxic till the end, sexual innuendos, manipulation, questionable morals, do not romanticize this irl pls, NO PROOFREAD YET

notes_ I’ll just drop this fic and leave it there bc why am i feeling so horny for an Asian sociopath? me la estoy pasando bien raro (i like it)

♫ ♪ the worst playlist 4 this man

✰ Index (+ fics here)

ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Everything was irritating. The class you had was canceled last minute, the crowd at the train station was loud, the tapping of a kid in a window was constant, and the message you received asking for your campus ID to keep using your student account was sudden and required immediate action. Your cramps and migraine only aggravate everything.

You were steps away from the stairs when you stopped to take the damn picture of your ID and be done with that. But of course, you couldn’t find your wallet at first glance, so you moved aside to take a better look.

You worried about kneeling and ruining your black coat with the dirtiness of the floor at the station, but at the same time, you thought it was just stupid.

A trail of curses flooded your mind as you tried to find your wallet, making you oblivious to a random man walking in your direction.

“Excuse me, Miss… Would you like to play Ddakji?” Said the man asked you in Korean. You were occupied with a hand inside your thrifted designer tote, and your mind unconsciously prepared an answer in English.

“Sorry, I don’t have time” When you realized your mid-answer you sighed, just as you fished out your wallet. “For every win of yours, you’ll earn a great sum of cash”

Once you stood up, you met the face of the man who now answered in English as well. Very tall, handsome, innocent smile and in a suit; a businessman. You knew it was wrong to judge but there was something behind the smile he offered you that resulted eerie.

Like behind that seemingly blameless expression, the man was hiding his true intentions.

Might’ve been your eyes or hair that caught his attention. You weren’t native, and he didn’t want to think he could take advantage, yet his feet dragged him to you.

Placing your bag over your shoulder again, you grab your glasses and phone with tangled EarPods. You give the man one last look. You are not having a good day and you don’t have time to deal with this.

“What do you say?” He asks feigning kindness, eyeing you subtly without your knowledge.

“No, thank you. I don’t even know how the game works”

“You look like you are a natural. You might be surprised if you try. You just have to pick a color and try to flip the opposing tile”

The rich always trying to fuck the one who isn’t. This was just a new way. The urge to roll your eyes grew but you remained still.

“Look, I’m sorry. But I bet you do this just to see how desperate people who need money can go. I won’t be one of them. If not, sorry for misjudging you” you harshly say before putting on your EarPods and leaving the station. You leave him perplexed, huffing in disbelief and igniting a fire of curiosity inside him.

And you completely forgot about the Ddakji man as you made it to your little apartment, not knowing he would turn upside down your upcoming days.

…

Warm days in winter were exciting for you. They boosted your energy and made you want to be out all day.

You had the luck of living in a beautiful complex because it was once from a friend of your mother who married years ago and now had her single apartment for rent.

It had long warm hallways that hosted at least eight apartments by floor. With orange and pink subtle lights and uneven edges. It was truly a sight despite how little the apartments were. One bedroom with closet and bathroom, a tiny studio, small kitchen, enough space for a dining table, another small bathroom, and a half sized living room with balcony.

Your loneliness was well-balanced because you loved your home. But even on warm days, you wanted to be out.

Your red shoes contrasted with everything you stepped on. You carried a bag with a bunch of books and another one with thrifted clothes you bought.

At the park you always walked by, there was a fair amount of people as usual. You don’t care much to look around but someone makes you stare longer than needed.

The same man who asked if you wanted to play a game at the station was in the park. Another impeccable suit dressing him, looking attractive like the first time and already looking at you.

He offered you a smile, to which you didn’t reply. You looked at the ground, feeling like you had frozen.

What a weirdo, he offered bread and a random paper to a lonely man.

Simultaneously, you wondered if the man found you attractive enough to stare like that. With your mind that often became nihilistic, you thought you were delusional and that you should just keep walking.

His eyes remained glued to you. As his prey was thinking about what was better to choose, he contemplated you walking again.

The salesman realized he had made you nervous and that made him feel eager to end his job and follow you again.

Once he realized you lived in a good neighborhood, where his elegant suits matched the vibe, he got even more excited to see you again.

So now, was like it was meant to be.

How sweet, sophisticated, and innocent you looked.

Something shifted, as you passed by his side, only having a view of his back, you assumed he was worked out, his hair looked perfectly fine, and his big hands offered two things. Perhaps you had misjudged him and he really wanted to help. But your inner voice said otherwise. In a sudden change of events, you decided to look back once you were almost at the exit of the park.

With his deep gaze still set on you, your lips formed a smile.

And he took it as a first win in the games that had begun between you two.

…

Once again, you find yourself in the library. Inside one of the biggest malls you’ve been to, you are leaning at a counter, asking if they have an English translation of a book you were interested in.

Your Korean isn’t good enough yet, so as the nice librarian disappeared to find your request, you are working on your next reply, with a translation app.

“Do you recommend me this one?” your back arched as a startled reflex. You quickly stand straight and turn around to see the person you grew anxious to avoid and see again. The salesman is there, looking down at you with a perfectly orchestrated smile.

“Huh?” you ask disconcertingly, he shows you a book, his face looking like he had found a wounded little bird. But it was only you, startled and nervous by his strong presence.

The book is The Divine Comedy. Dante Alighieri.

“Certainly is a good one. A lot of heavenly justice…” you say trying to sound confident, looking at the cover of the book. Displaying the layers that separated heaven from hell. “Do you believe in heavenly justice?”

“I don’t know. We can’t call someone a sinner without a proper trial beforehand” he chuckles, which makes you frown for a second. He truly was unpredictable and you didn’t like that. “Ah, sinners. Always misjudged and harshly punished for being the ones who have the guts to make things…” his deep voice and tone made you wonder if he was self-perceived as a sinner, which made you feel worse.

“You sound like an ethnocentric…”

“I don’t think I’m far into that type of thinking, y/n” Your eyes almost popped out, leaving your hands in an anxious tremble.

“How is it possible that you know my name?” Before he can even answer, you add more. “You are stalking me”

His demonic smile makes your heart stop. The smile you once thought had innocence can’t blind you anymore. He isn’t innocent. He literally confirmed he was stalking you and you didn’t know how to feel.

“I don’t like the idea that conveys the word ‘stalking’. We can call it predestination…” you huff in disbelief. “What do you want with me?”

“I would like to get to know the woman who rejected my Ddakji offer. And ask for one more game” Your lips form a line, and quietly you are hating how much you are enjoying the conversation.

“Hmm, I’m bad at most games, so I’m afraid I will reject you once again” You turned back again to see if the librarian was coming when you felt him stepping closer, which made you feel nervous again.

“I might believe you. I always win…” he whispered in your ear, sending shivers through your spine and creating a lot of tension.

Your psycho mode almost made you lean forward again, daring to see if some friction was possible. But you didn’t, trying to be prudent and acting sane.

“I would’ve wanted a normal first interaction and this time you should’ve asked me out on a date. That’s how it works where I come from but… here, I guess not” he stepped aside as the librarian handed you the book. And as you thanked her and turned to leave and pay somewhere else, he took out a card and handed it to you.

“I’m sure we can work on some sort of arrangement. Here, you may call me…” slightly irritated that he didn’t say much about your inquiry, you snatched the card and walked away.

The cathartic feelings of wanting to keep talking to him and running away from him at the same time resulted in excruciating. It didn’t make sense, the point of him was to nowhere. Being clueless about his age, name, and everything made it feel wrong. Yet, curiosity was starting to burn you.

…

Like a miracle, the heavens moved and sprinkled some luck above you. You found some friends on campus, they spoke English like you and were foreigners as well. One of them was a friend of the owner of a club and invited you for the night.

The invitation made you forgetful about your salesman, whom you hadn’t talked with since the encounter in the library. The card he handed the last time rested between the book you bought the same day, making you unable to read more because it reminded you of the encounter with him.

It resulted unknown to you when was that your life had turned over the edge of becoming twisted. Your feelings for a mysterious man who seemed more accusable than appeared remained undecided.

He made you feel like a wildfire and a caged bird at the same time. Delicate but menacing.

He seemed older than you, professional in a field, mature and imposing. Which you didn’t mind when he appeared to ask you about The Divine Comedy. Either way, you were playing but couldn’t risk anything. Especially in a country where you didn’t know how everything worked.

After getting out of the shower, your thoughts on the salesman are completely faded. You slip on a sequin dress and paint your eyes with glitter and a smokey style.

Thereafter, at the club you let yourself go and have a wild night. Between classes, essays, and the issue with the salesman, you needed a time out.

Everything feels nice when you take a bathroom break and you smile at your reflection. You know you are close to being drunk, it’s the most enjoyable stage of ingesting alcohol.

“Hey, let’s go dancing, I couldn’t find you before!” Yells one of your friends after you reunite with the little group. You nod excitedly, taking her hand and letting her take you to the dance floor.

The music reminded you of that time when spinnin records were a trend and everyone played their mixes at parties back at home. As you move along the track, you don’t look at anything in particular, you just feel interesting and sexy. But your eyes end up giving a quick glance at one table, almost making you stop your euphoric moment.

You swore you saw your salesman.

Looking around you don’t see him, so you return dancing but the odd sensation in your chest doesn’t let you rest.

“What happens?” Asks another friend, looking worried.

“Nothing. Just thought I saw someone. Never mind…” you shake your head, smiling and convincing them that everything is fine.

But once they got more drunk, you walked out, despite curiosity, you wanted to confirm if the tall gorgeous man was near you.

Rarely you bring up to question your life decisions. Not because you thought you were perfect, but because you easily accepted your errors.

And it wasn’t hard to accept you completely messed up by getting out of the club. Where the night was colder, and some steps away from the main entrance, the crowd was loud. A man could be heard pleading and sobbing, which made you fearful but eager to see what was happening.

You peeked at the alley beside the club. A wave of shock flooded you once you noticed another man was punching the one who yelped and sobbed for forgiveness.

Your salesman was the attacker.

“Please! I’ll pay everything back!” Your mind raced back to the moment you spotted your salesman inside the club minutes ago.

His dark grey suit didn’t fit the aura of the place, but he seemed to be talking with the same man he was now punching.

It was obvious at that point that he wasn’t a good man. He made fun of making people play his seemingly innocent games to later laugh in the face whenever they lost. He was never flirting with you, the odd feeling of uncertainty you felt with him was right.

You had to go. You had to burn the card he gave you, avoid the station where you met him, and forget about his face.

There’s panic in your system, your heart beats fast and nausea starts coming up your throat.

You want to get immediately drunk and forget everything you saw with a hangover. You need it.

But you don’t get very far. Midway through the stairs that conduct to the club, a hand holds your forearm with extreme pressure and drags you inside a private room.

Your salesman finally found you.

…

“You just killed a man!” you almost yelled as soon as he pushed you inside and closed the door.

The room was very fancy like the club. It had a big desk near a window, flower-shaped hanging lamps, black sparkly floor tiles, and a sage velvet couch.

Your salesman slides his fingers through his hair and looks at the ceiling before turning to you. One hand still carrying the murder weapon.

“He deserved it” was all he answered and you take a breath. In need of an alibi, you opened a random fridge in the room and grabbed a beer. Your salesman watched how you sipped at the can. He knew you were feeling a mix of curiosity and disgust for him.

Once you drink at least half of the content, you sigh, brushing aside some hair and walking towards him.

“Who are you?” you ask pleadingly, desperate to know how far you’ve gone for him.

“Eventually you’ll know” he sounds cold, calculating, and menacing. “You didn’t call…”

He was taking advantage of your vulnerability.

“I met you a week ago, I don’t even know your name” you admit with shame and dissatisfaction.

For the first time, he genuinely touches you. Hands straight to your waist, making gasp in surprise.

“You’re smart and will eventually understand. You’re my good girl”

His good girl….

What was left to do when you have a sociopath holding your waist with the same hands he had used to kill a man? Play along, even if you are terrified.

What had been your horrified face, slowly ends up in a smirk, tilting your head, squandering cheekiness. “I’m not your good girl, sir”

He slowly leaned back, taking a seat on the sage couch, one of his hands going straight to rest behind his head, against the wall. He twirled the knife against his knee, making you uneasy, but confident about your upcoming words.

“If I walk away, you can’t do much with me, I’m a foreigner. Sure the authorities would dismantle whatever dirty job you’re into and that’s a big no-no” you explain, and feeling a little too bold, you step between his legs.

“Your lack of ignorance amazes me” he admits, offering you a cocky smile. “It makes me even more infatuated”

Your left knee pushed aside his hand twirling the knife. He remained still but sure seemed slightly surprised when you ended up straddling him. With your hands glued to his dark tie, putting it into place.

“Hmm, well, be careful. I am no threat, I barely have valuable skills to get rid of you but I know I could be a problem. So I guess I won, sir…” you allow yourself to smile, following a path with your fingers, from his tie to his cheeks and nose, softly tracing his pale skin.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, sweetheart” You knew he was trying to be in control, and the best part was that you weren’t fighting for it.

“There’s a lot I might not understand. I’m just a girl who happened to be in this city for a temporary academic project” When your lips brushed his, you couldn’t deny he was so fucking hot, you wished he wasn’t so weird and probably part of a mafia or cult or whatever. “You are the grown-ass man who got obsessed with me”

“I just find you an odd but interesting player, sweet girl” he tried to use his innocent smile but it was useless when you grabbed him by the shoulders and finally dared to kiss him.

He controlled it the moment he touched you again. His hands had a possessive sting and firmly grabbed you by the hips. One of them still holding the knife.

Feeling bold, with adrenaline flowing freely, you softly bit his lower lip. You knew it was over when he almost let out a moan, and after checking he had his eyes closed, you literally jumped away from him.

Without looking back, you started running. Your clumsy steps turn frantic, knowing damn well he would start following you soon. As you literally start pushing people to get out, your heart beats faster than ever and you have a growing anxiety, begging you to stop and breathe.

Once the cold air hit you, as you took a cab and saw no sign of your salesman, confusion struck you and you saw the blood in your chest and arm.

“Are you alright, girl?” The driver asked, also watching your bleeding state.

“Yes, just an accident, I’m okay” he nods unsure, but starts driving after you give him your destination.

His knife must’ve sliced your skin when you stood up from his lap. When he moved one of his big hands to caress your chin.

It wasn’t that you were scared of him, of your salesman. Although you should be; but you weren’t. Could it be that the worst part was that you were attracted to him? Even after watching him kill a man? You were screwed.

You realize the reason why you always ran away from him is because you don’t know how to face his unpredictable demeanor.

At that point, you didn’t know what he wanted. Only that he was obsessed with you. But his intentions remained a mystery unsolved.

Before getting out of the cab, you pay and send your friends a message that you left early because you got a headache after vomiting. This didn’t happen, but would’ve been better to experience it as a young woman in her twenties.

…

When you opened the door, he was already inside. The worst part is that you weren’t surprised anymore. You only stood at the feet of the door, looking at him with uneasiness.

“You got me worried,” he says, stopping his movements around your table. “You left some blood stains and I thought it was serious”

“You accidentally showed me your true nature. A little bit of blood shouldn’t scare you” his shirt indeed had some bloody spots, his blazer was gone, and the sleeves of his messy shirt were rolled up. You hated that your first thought was that he looked very hot.

He moved and took a seat at one of your tables. He sighed and you realized that perhaps he was also screwed up. For letting himself go too far for you.

“I don’t regret any encounter we’ve had,” he says. “Me neither”

He can’t stop staring at your bloodstained dress and you notice.

Fuck everything, you thought.

I’m attracted to him, he’s attracted to me, What’s the worst thing that could happen? (I don’t want to know).

“Silly boy, look what you did to me,” you say looking at the soaked fabric.

Something possessed you at that moment. Your hands went straight to lift your dress. His eyes trailed your sparkly underwear, your lower belly, and your ribs that rose and fell as you breathed.

Your hands twirl behind your back to unhook your bra; also soaked, throwing it to the floor.

Your salesman is quiet, his innocent smile about to fall because you know you have taken him by surprise.

Likely you’ll get a scar. The would-be slightly deep, an uneven line that passed from your neck to your shoulder.

You step forward, confidently eyeing him.

“Clean it” he tried to stand up, probably to grab a med kit but you stopped him with your heel. “With your mouth. Lick it clean…”

He gulped.

His manspread became the only thing you could care about. How he eyed you with lust and possession for some seconds, and then to lean forwards.

Once again his hands landed on the curves of your hips and he made you step up, leaving him inches away from you.

Your sudden surgation grew and his hot tongue finally made contact with your skin.

You savored the feeling of his tongue, knowing he wouldn’t clean anything but the semi-dry blood over your breast. He was only making a mess.

Then, he lifts his head and catches your lips in a sullied kiss. The way he held you, made you understand how he always wanted control. Above anything.

“I will be gone within time. You can ruin me while it lasts…” you blurt out, panting for air.

“I’ll ruin you. But I don’t want to rip you apart. That’s pointless…” he admits in your lips, blood near your chin that he wipes out. “You’re the most fun I’ve had in years. My little toy…”

“Alright, I’ll be your toy” he nods, kissing you again. “Know that my lips are sealed when it comes to you”

“And you won’t have to worry about anything again…” you moan on his lips when he pulls your hair and finally makes you lay on your once new carpet, now displaying some splotches of blood.

“I don’t need your money”

“Don’t you want to make your mother proud and relieved from student debts? From rent?” You can’t think straight. “It’s not correct…”

“None of this is, y/n. Now shut your mouth and spread your legs, toy”

It’s wrong, immoral, a complete madness. You know everything will change once the night dies and the morning comes. But as much as you tried to communicate to him that you weren’t scared, you knew it was over, you’ve gotten too deep into his shit.

“Farewell to my purity” you whisper in his ear and it’s enough to make his eyes turn darker, full of lust.

Everything that consoles purity would be gone from you. And the fact that you were ready scared you. But once his hands started meeting places across your body, you welcomed the sin.

As well as your mind seized thinking. Not caring about the consequences.

_______________________________________________

If you ask for more I will provide

Quién me manda a escribir estas mamadas? I’m just ovulating.

[cazshmere]

Synastry Observations Pt.2

materialist🔖

DISCLAIMER: These are just my personal observations and are meant for entertainment purposes only; it may not resonate with everyone due to the nuances of astrology. Please respect my work and avoid copying or stealing it. Enjoy reading!! 🍊⭐️

🍊 Mars in the 12th house synastry has got to be one of the worst things 😭. It’s confusing and exhausting. The Mars person seems to harbour some sort of irrational animosity towards the house person in a very passive-aggressive way. The house person can sense this too, but they are unsure if they’re making it up or not. Also, it’s such a blockage; you could be really close to each other and know of each other, but the conversation WOULD TAKE AGES to start because neither the house person nor the Mars person wants to initiate conversation. It’s like there’s an invisible barrier between you guys 🥲

🍊 Venus in the 8th house/ in Scorpio’s first romantic relationship or situation always ends up hurting them. I’ve seen this countless times where their first experience with romance either ends in heartbreak, unrequited love, or just a missed opportunity. This heartbreak helps these individuals immensely transform, and they might prefer to isolate themselves from anything romance-related for a long period of time. Honestly I think this is a canon event for every Scorpio/8th house Venus that I’ve met, including me lmao and especially if there are Venus-Saturn hard aspects, dear lord, sending love to all my scorp/8th house placements fr🫶🏻🥲❤️‍🩹

🍊 Something I’ve observed with Libra placements, especially the moon, is that when they’re in a relationship, it becomes the focal point of their life. They might go as far as changing career paths to be closer to their partner, altering their style to match their partner’s preferences, or adjusting their personality to be more appealing to their partner (yes I’m sure most of us do this to some extent but it’s a bit excessive for these peeps😭). Their relationship becomes such a central part of their identity that if anything goes wrong, it can feel devastating for them. For instance, I have a friend who is a Libra moon, and she always refers to her partner as “my boyfriend” instead of his name, even though we all know him personally, like gurl come on he’s got a name haha😭

🍊 Moon in the 12th house synastry can equate to the house person opening up to the moon person or just feeling extremely vulnerable around them. They’d share things with the moon person that they dare not share with anyone else. This synastry could also mean staying up late in the night and throwing your sleep away just to talk to each other 🧿

🍊 12th house synastry could also have undertones of enemies-to-lovers (the lovers part only if you ever get together, that is) because there’s this energy where you don’t know why the other person acts hostile/passive-aggressive towards you, ignores you, or sends you mixed signals that makes you dislike them but at the same time, you can’t stop fantasizing/dreaming about them in all these romantic scenarios or them showing up in your dreams outta nowhere like??😭

🍊 7th/8th and even 10th (to some extent) house synastry could indicate that one of the two, either the house person or the planet person (mostly the house person), copies the other, be it mannerisms, clothes, slang, or even certain traits of the other’s personality 💀. It’s because they notice how much attention or admiration the planet person garners, so to obtain that same kind of attention and recognition the house person might try to emulate the planet person 🫤

🍊 7th house Mars synastry can be very annoying and tiresome (especially for the house person). The Mars person could be a bit too much for the house person. The Mars person could get very petty and passive-aggressive towards the house person for no reason (this could go vice versa too). Yes there is sexual attraction and y’all could motivate/support each other through stuff but at the same time it’s draining asf, a big no no for me when it comes to synastry 🥲

🍊 Moon square Saturn synastry can cause delays when it comes to emotional attachment between two people, but once these two finally connect, it’s ride or die typa relationship fr 🥺🫂

🍊 Moon/Mercury in the 1st/5th/9th house synastry is very exciting and fun-loving, with lots of playful teasing and bantering with each other 😋🥰

🍊Moon /Mercury in the 2nd/4th/8th/10th/12th house synastry makes both parties very sensitive to each other’s words because these houses reflect our self esteem/self worth, the deepest parts of ourselves, our core, our reputation etc. A little bit of critique can also be taken personally by either party. Even harmless jokes could be taken in the wrong way and arguments could occur (especially if there isn’t 3rd/5th/9th/11th house synastry or any easy aspects in the synastry chart)

🍊 When someone's planets fall in your 8th house, they intuitively sense your true and deep needs related to that planet. For example, if someone's Venus is in your 8th house, they will know how to love you in a way that makes you feel unconditionally loved and appreciated. If their Mercury is in your 8th house, they will understand how to communicate with you on a profound level, meeting your need for deep and meaningful conversation. If their Mars is in your 8th house, they will instinctively know how to meet your sexual needs and desires and please you in bed🖤❤️‍🔥

© cazshmere 2024 [All Rights Reserved]

banner credits : @anitalenia <3

[thrashkink-coven]

Things for beginners to know before starting demonolatry or demonology practices

1. The classifications of demons were written by humans, not demons.

Different occult schools of thought will have different understandings of the Hierarchies of Hell, whether Hell even exists, and what attributes are associated with each demon. In some sects Lucifer reigns supreme Emperor of Hell, in others it is Sammael, Moloch, or Baal. It all depends on the perspective of the practitioner. All of these models are equally correct and incorrect. Documentation of de(a)mons were often written by right hand practitioners who saw them as evil, therefore their negative attitudes are emphasized. Other times devotees have documented the same entity as being very kind and affectionate. It is incredibly important to take into account who is speaking whenever you read about demons. No single book or author can deliver to you the most **objective** facts about these demons or the model of reality, if they claim to, they’re lying to you. You as the practitioner must discover and decide what reins true in your reality. Teachers and gurus may influence you but ultimately you must make the decision for yourself.

2. Assume all spirits are multi dimensional

Lucifer, the light bringer, is also the spirit of darkness. He is the sweet prince and the adversary, he is a devil and an angel. It is extremely rare that you will encounter a spirit that is only one thing. There is a little bit of truth to everyone’s interactions. To a Luciferian, Lucifer is a guide, a companion, and a positive presence. To a Christian he is an adversary, a tempter, liar and bringer of evil ; and there is an entire rainbow of other experiences that contribute to the understanding of “Lucifer”. Demons are not all good nor are they all bad, trying to paint them in only one light will only lead to disappointment and confusion. It is just as foolish to assume that a so called angel will always be pleasant and nice, as it is to assume a so called demon will be terrible and mean. Every energy interacts with every person uniquely.

3. Scary and intimidating doesn’t automatically mean “evil”

Nice and pleasing doesn’t automatically mean “good”

If you’re interacting with demons or spirits associated with death, it shouldn’t be very surprising that they’re dark, mysterious, or have a frightening appearance. If you’re dealing with demons or spirits of sex and lust, it shouldn’t be very surprising that they’re alluring, attractive, or beautiful. This doesn’t mean that the scary demon is going to kill you, and this doesn’t mean that the sexy demon is going to fuck you. There are very likely going to be times when your demons will scare you. This doesn’t mean that they’re going to hurt you or possess you (they shouldn’t be frightening you to the point of constant paranoia, but seeing some “disturbing” or strange imagery isn’t out of the norm when you’re contacting a de(a)mon).

If you enter a deep dark cave looking for a bear, don’t be surprised when you see sharp teeth. Demons of violence may summon gory imagery. Demons of death my feel cold and distant. A large part of demonolatry is understanding your fear and overcoming it.

4. Yeah, it’s intense.

Okay. This is hard for me to explain. Infernal spirits and angels alike are entities that force you to confront your innermost self and change. It’s not always spooky and scary and whimsical. Sometimes it’s losing your dead end job, having a serious breakup, losing toxic friends, or having a personal epiphany. When I say it’s intense, I don’t mean that I’m levitating and seeing gnarly gory shit and summoning demons while covered in blood all the time. I have dreams and experiences of course, but seeing a demon work is not about the theatrics. Are you ready to confront the things you rrrrreeaaaaalllly don’t want to think about? Your trauma, the lies you tell yourself to get through the day, and the toxic cycles you comfort yourself with?

Lord Lucifer has made me cry many MANY times. But it was never because he hurt or scared me. I’ve seen many demonolaters refer to Lucifer as a therapist and I couldn’t agree more. He not only changes your understanding of yourself, but others and the world. Through this understanding you can change yourself, and others, and the world.

5. You as the practitioner need to be able to withstand the symptoms of your demonic relationships

Being in a relationship with Lilith or Asmoday is not an excuse to develop a porn addiction. Being in a relationship with Lucifer does not give you the right to psychoanalyze all of your friends, being in a relationship with Eligos is not an excuse to destroy all of your relationships or be cruel towards others. Demons represent energies and concepts that are unfavourable to the masses. When working with Astaroth I will feel more lustful, just by being in her proximity. That is not justification to cheat on my partner or force myself onto him. As much as demons like Lucifer for example can inspire us to be wise and sharp, he can also influence us to be vein and narcissistic. We must always be aware of these effects and resist them, working with demons and shadows does not mean becoming the worst version of ourselves, quite the contrary. Interacting with these negative aspects is meant to show you how to overcome them.

6. Demons cannot and will not replace your relationships with humans

I am very pro godspousing and having friendly and affectionate relationships with demons and spirits. Having said that, as much as our spirits may love us and care for us, they will not be the ones to text you good morning. They will not make you soup when you’re sick, or buy you flowers after a hard day. Demons are guides and companions, but they are not people. Trying to use demons to solve your loneliness will only lead to heart ache. You very much can have a sincere relationship with a demon or other spirit, but be aware that that relationship will not mimic your relationships with humans, and it shouldn’t. Gods and demons are not humans, therefore your relationships with them will not feel human.

7. There’s always more to learn

Devotion to any spirit is an endeavour that can take years or even a lifetime. Your work is not done because you read 3 books and browsed the Occult Wiki for an hour and a half. Become very dedicated to learning about your demons of interest and the culture that surrounds them. Yes, this means boring, tedious research.

8. No, ______ is not mad at you. Please talk to them

You will at some point inevitably do something wrong, especially if you are freshly initiated. Demons understand that we are human, we make mistakes. Instead of becoming paranoid and avoiding your demon out of fear of consequences, put on your big boy pants and confront them directly. Understand what you did wrong and learn from your mistake. There may or may not be consequences, every demon is different. But making yourself sick thinking they’re going to smite you down doesn’t make anything better. I guarantee you that talking to them about it will serve you a million times better than running away.

9. You need to know your boundaries BEFORE you reach out

As important as it is to research your demons, it is equally important to research yourself. You need to have strict boundaries that you will not negotiate. These boundaries should be outlined in your contract if you have one. If blood magic is uncomfortable for you, don’t allow any demon or spirit to coerce you into giving it until you are ready. If you’re a minor you’re more than allowed to not do sex magic. This relationship belongs to you as much as it does your demon(s). If it doesn’t serve you, simply refuse it.

10. On that note, demons can and will reject you. You can and will reject them as well.

On many occasions I have approached spirits who did not want to work with me at the moment. Sometimes they end up showing up later in my life, other times they never do. Oftentimes this is because of an incongruency on an alchemical level, we just aren’t meant for each other. It doesn’t necessarily mean you’re doing anything wrong. Sometimes you are, but your demon or deity will usually make that clear to you in some way. Don’t force it. If I’m already terribly preoccupied with life or other spiritual relationships, I’m within my right to reject another demon trying to enter my circle. That isn’t a rude thing to do. I’m within my right to deny a ritual I don’t have the energy or resources for. We can put it on the back burner for now.

Likewise, if a demon or spirit is repeatedly overstepping my boundaries or harming me in any way, I can (and should) leave that demon. If I’m not doing enough or causing insult, that demon can leave me. As binding as devotional contracts can be, we are not trapped with each other if we choose not to be.

11. Protection shouldn’t only be against spirits. Be very aware of your surroundings and the people around you

Learn the power of secrecy. As a Luciferian living in an extremely conservative area, I have to be extremely careful about when my pendants are visible. I have to be careful when entering certain places because I don’t want to be hate crimed or harassed. Yes, being out and proud of my demonic relationships is very important to me, but it is not worth risking real danger from bigots, or risking my employment. When I go to work, I have to leave my Lucifer ring at home, not because my work is discriminatory, but because I don’t know when I’m speaking to a christofascist grandma who would make a complaint to my boss because she saw my devotional ring. I don’t know which of my coworkers would make my life more difficult if they knew about my practice. If you are visible, people will approach you and make comments. Now, there are those of us who don’t give a fuck, and on most days I don’t. But for those of us who are vulnerable to that kind of discrimination, please be aware.

12. Self mutilation is not demonolatry

If you choose to offer blood it should be no more than a few drops. You should be using safe tools like a lancet, and disinfecting the area you extract from. This should be done in the least harmful manner possible. Devotional markings or tattoos should be done by a professional.

13. This stuff takes time. Relax

These relationships don’t develop in 24 hours. It takes a tremendous amount of repeated effort to gain the favour of a demon or spirit. If you’re not getting the results you want, take a break, reevaluate your methods, and try again later.

[bunnysdollette]

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁ Main character energy ⟢ ⭐️

⟢ Heyy angels!! today, I’m gonna share my top secret formula on how to start attaining what I like to call main character energy. This will be a long post sharing all my secrets on how I’m working to become THAT GIRL. ♡

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ WHAT IS MAIN CHARACTER ENERGY? 🕯️ ⊹₊⟡⋆

• main character energy is basically walking into a room with all eyes on you, full of confidence, joy, and hypnotic magnetism.

• if you want to start feeling like that girl, first you have to realize that you already ARE. YOU are the main character of your life. YOU are the star.

• it’s extremely important not to flip flop with this mindset, or it literally won’t work. in order to persist in this idea I really reccommend manifesting it and listening to SUBS that help affirm that “main character” identity you’re going for. my fav sub I use to manifest a sweet, magnetic, and feminine energy . .

the sweetest girl they know works so welll ♡

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ SETTING THE STAGE 🎀 ⊹₊⟡*

• main character energy is a FEELING. In order for you to harness that powerful energy, you have to set the stage in your life

•what do I mean? Removing bad influences from your life. How do you expect to be an admirable and magnetic person if you’re surrounded by terrible people?

• anyone who is vibrating on a very low level threatens your ability to elevate your own self. you are who you surround yourself with so choose your friends wisely.

• you should also actively try to curate your social media feed and social space with things that are positive and helpful. social media has a HUGE impact on us and it should be used for our improvement, not to bring us down.

another way I love to do this is MUSIC! you can create an uplifting and confidence boosting playlist full of songs you like.

for example I really like songs like perfect night by le sserafim (kinda controversial ngl…) my world, lucky girl syndrome by illit, a lot of ari grande songs too. ♡ also girlblogging duh and looking at other girlblogs.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ STOP TAKING SHIT 🩰 ⊹₊⟡

• Stop TAKING SHIT from others. You are a walking goddess capable of doing amazing things, who is actively trying to better themselves. Who are you to take someone else’s crap?

• Walk with purpose and confidence, show people that you are secure in yourself. BUT when people are disrespectful to you. DO NOT LET IT SLIDE. That sets a terrible precedent for how others can treat you.

• You CAN Respond in a mature and calm way. But sometimes ignoring it and simply not letting it affect you can work too. Acknowledge what was said, take a deep breath and move forward. Let it go and don’t let anyone else’s comments hinder your journey. You are the one in control.

ways I calmly respond to people trying to check me:

• friend gossiping about me? bye!

• someone’s whispering under their breath about me? block out their voice and instead think about how perfect and beautiful I am.

• someone spreading rumors about me? Correct them to people who may bring them up around me, but be okay with that being misunderstood as long as it isn’t something genuinely harmful that requires adult intervention

• literally anyone has anything to say about me? distance myself from them. they aren’t worth my time, presence nor my precious energy. make that known.

my other post on this which I’m currently working on redoing. . here

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ PUTTING YOU FIRST 🍵 ⊹₊⟡

• put you first ALWAYS. you are the main character in this life, not everyone and everything is worth your attention! never feel obligated to go above and beyond for someone who doesn’t deserve it.

• self care should be a huge priority in your life, because the most important relationship you will ever have with someone in your life is with YOURSELF. it will dictate everyone according to your mindset, the way you view yourself, and the WORLD.

ways I started putting me first:

• dropping the people pleaser thing: practicing saying “no” or “I don’t want to” or “I didn’t like that” in the mirror, then trying my best to apply that in everday life

• stopped answering random unplanned calls from people when I knew I was busy and texting them when I could talk

• stopped agreeing to every hangout as well

• I stayed kind, but I stopped letting people treat me like a doormat.

• letting go when people were displeased with something I said or did.

⟢ that’s basically some of the three main points I had in this post, didn’t wanna make it tooo long. I hope something in here helped someone today and as always stay cute dolls. my inbox is always open for cuties who wanna ttm ♡

[oathbips]

I'm Sleeping On The Couch - Jake, Johan, Goo

summary: how they’ll react to you saying you’ll sleep on the couch after an argument 

part 1, part 2

content: angst to fluff, reader x goo/jake/johan, slightly suggestive on goo’s 

author’s note: jake’s part is so short but I literally could not think of any argument plot for him cause honestly wtf is there to even argue about when dating him. you would also never catch me giving up my bed after some argument. it better be him sleeping on that couch ong

This was going nowhere and the both of you have been going at it for the past hour already. You hated arguing with Jake. He never raises his voice at you nor even bat an angry glare towards you during arguments but that’s just what makes arguing with him even more frustrating sometimes. He’s so gentle but stubborn and you find yourself having to hold yourself back trying to convey your feelings with the same gentle energy when you’re really about to snap, feeling frustrated with how he’s not hearing you. 

“It’s getting late now, y/n. Let’s just go to sleep.” Jake sighed and pleaded. You stared blankly at him before looking at the time and gave a sigh yourself. You don’t want to just end the argument here but it was getting late. Still, no matter how much you did not want pettiness to cloud your judgment, the feelings of frustration were too strong at the moment to be ignored. You didn’t  want to take it out on him. You could never anyways. 

“I’m sleeping on the couch today.” You stated as your final solution to deal with this built up anger. You needed your own space and time alone to calm down. 

Jake’s eyes widened and shock formed his face, “What? Why?” He reached out and grabbed hold of your hand, scared, you’re about to walk away from him any second after saying that. “Y/n, wait. It doesn’t have to be that way.” 

“I know, Jake. I just want some space to cool down.” 

Hurt overtook his initial shock and the room fell silent for a minute until he finally broke the silence by pulling you closer towards him. He placed his hand on your cheek, gently stroking it before replying with, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you that angry to the point where you don’t even want to sleep next to me. Please, just sleep with me tonight and we can try to work it out tomorrow. I promise.” You felt yourself being pulled into his arms and his hug became more firm by the second, afraid you’ll pull away. You felt a small chaste kiss on your forehead as he soothingly caressed your back.

All the frustration and pettiness you just felt immediately dissipated. No matter how bad your fights get, you know you’ll regret pushing him away more. With how busy he already is, the two of you barely even have time together. Spending the times when you two are finally together being separated is not something you want to be taken for granted.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t apologize.” He said before picking you up bridal style, carrying you into your shared bedroom.

If there’s one thing you know so well like the back of your hand when it comes to Johan, it’s that he’s beyond stubborn than that of a toddler. His face turns pouty and he starts throwing small silent tantrums. You could even say he looks cute in this state if it wasn’t for him racking your absolute nerves right now. You knew what you were getting into when you both first started dating but as time passes in your relationship, he started becoming more reckless. He’s been acting too reckless lately and you’ve been scared for his safety. All you wanted was for him to finally listen for once. 

“Johan, please.”

“It’s not a big deal, y/n. It’ll heal.” He countered.

A heavy sigh left your lips. You were exasperated with this ongoing argument that’s going nowhere. “It cannot properly heal when you end up getting hurt even more with your fights.”

“I told you not to involve yourself in my business. I don’t want you involved.” He countered again. This time, actually hurting your feelings with what he just said. You know all too well that fighting is what he has to do. He has no other choice but to fight in the circumstances that he's in at the moment, but you just can’t stand seeing him come home everyday bloodied with new bruises each day taking over his body. You shouldn’t have to feel wronged for worrying about him but he was making you feel just that. Fighting the tears that were about to spill out of your eyes, you quickly turned yourself away from him. This was just getting nowhere.

“It’s getting late. Let’s just go to sleep.” You managed to softly let out. He let out a huff of breath before getting up and heading towards the bathroom to call it a day. You stayed back, heading your way into another room to cry while you waited for your turn. 

Opening the bathroom door, you headed out once you were finished with your night routine, tears still spilling down your face. On your way out, you caught a glimpse of Johan’s silhouette getting himself comfortable in your shared bed. Not wanting him to see you like this, you opted out on sleeping on the couch for tonight. 

Finally settling onto the couch, minutes passes by as you wait for the drowsiness to kick in, tossing and turning to soothe yourself to sleep. After about  an hour, you were finally in a comfortable position to fall asleep until you heard movements of shuffling from the bedroom. The sound of the bedroom door opening followed, and two pairs of footsteps sounded down the hallway. It was heading towards you. You could hear and feel it coming but your face is still messy with stained tears, and red puffy eyes from all the crying. Quickly shutting your eyes, you pretended to be asleep as the large figure finally made its way right in front of yours, towering over your sleeping body before crouching down to your level. 

“Y/n, what are you doing?” Johan asked, trying to see if you were really sleeping or not. You stayed silent not wanting to get into another argument about why you chose to sleep on the couch instead of with him. From where he was, he could spot the tear stains on your face and immediately felt guilty. He really didn’t mean to hurt you. He just wanted to keep you safe and away from his dangerous life, and if he could, he would’ve made it up to you for all the times he made you sad or worried by now. He just never got the chance to or even know how.

The silence dragged out for a good minute, leaving you nervously sweating wondering why he wasn’t leaving yet. You were about to give up and open your eyes to deal with whatever was about to come your way until he finally broke the silence. 

“I’m sorry.” He whispered. “I’ll try to be more careful next time.” With that, you felt his presence getting up like he was about to leave until two pairs of arms reached under your figure and swiftly lifted you up. You held in the surprised yelp you were about to let out trying to not blow your cover before you felt a small kiss being planted on the side of your head as he carried you back into the bedroom.

The two of you have been going back and forth for a while now ever since Goo came home. He came back with stashes of cash and fresh fighting bruises on his body. You knew what type of person Goo is and what his lifestyle consisted of but what you didn’t know was the deep shady businesses he has recently gotten himself into that he didn’t tell you about. You had your suspicions though. It rose a month ago when you started noticing his odd behaviors: checking his phone more often than ever around you, the expensive clothes and jewelries he was buying for the both of you, being away from home more often due to “errands” and coming home way later than usual, and of course the most concerning of them all is the amount of blood and bruises on his body increasing in numbers as each day passes. You tried confronting him about it many times and each time he would always brush it off lightly and change the topic. Tonight was the last straw however, and you finally stood your ground trying to get answers out of him. He chuckled and playfully laughed it off again like it was nothing, dodging the topic left and right until your temper was at its limit and you snapped. You wanted him to understand how serious this was. 

“Darling, come on. I told you it’s nothing to worry about.” He tried downplaying it. Goo was trying to sound serious after seeing your change of mood but you could tell a part of him is still not taking you seriously.

“Goo, isn’t this all too shady? Whatever you’re doing is going too far now, no?” You said and immediately regretted it as soon as those words left your mouth. The atmosphere around you suddenly shifts and the air around your boyfriend turns cold. His icy glare pierced through you as his next words sent chills down your spine. 

“Y/n. Know your boundaries, yea?” You stood frozen in place, shocked at what just transpired, not knowing how to react. He never looked or spoke to you like that before. Silence fell over the room as you’re left speechless trying to find something to say, anything. 

“I- Goo..” Was all you managed to let out before he turned his back to you, making his way to the bathroom to clean himself off. “We’re done. No more talking about this matter, y/n.” With that, you hear the bathroom door shut and the sound of the shower being turned on in the distance, leaving you to your thoughts alone. 

The both of you were now standing across each other from your shared bed after finishing your night routines, getting ready to finally get in bed and sleep the night away. Goo pulled the blanket on his side and laid down first. You on the other hand were fidgeting and stalling time to lay down. You felt uneasy getting into bed with him right now and going to sleep like nothing happened. You hate to admit it cause he has never made you feel this way before but what happened earlier scared you. It felt like being on the receiving end of all those who had the misfortune of running into him during fights before they met their doom. Of course, you know he would never hurt you but that doesn’t change the fact that you feel pretty shaken up from his glare and cold words. 

Maybe you should give him some time to himself, you thought. Finally making your decision, you went to pick the pillow from your side up and walk towards your bedroom door. “Goodnight, Goo.” You said, turning the doorknob.

“Huh? Y/n, where are you going?” His voice rang from behind you with confusion. Stopping in your tracks, you tried making it sound like everything was okay as you turned around to face him.“...I just thought that I should sleep on the couch tonight.”

“What? Why?” He asked with concern and quickly got up from the bed to walk towards you. Cupping your cheeks in his hands, he soothingly started stroking your cheeks with his thumbs before speaking up, “What’s wrong? Why do you want to sleep on the couch instead of with me?”

“Uh…” You didn’t know how to tell him. That you were scared and thought he was mad at you. That he would even speak to you like that. But honestly, how could he not know, acting like nothing just happened? 

“Is it because of what happened?” You didn’t answer and just let the silence speak for itself. 

“Y/n. I didn’t mean it like that.” 

“It sounded like you did mean it like that though.”

“No, you know that.”

“No, I don’t know that. Goo, I know whatever you’re trying to hide means a lot to you but do you know how worried I get seeing you come home like that everyday? You’re becoming so different, I’m scared.” 

He looked at you shocked, trying his best to take in what you just said. “I… Baby, I’m sorry.” He finally managed and pulled you in, placing a meaningful kiss on your forehead. “I just want you to trust me. Please. I’m fine. You know me, no one could ever hurt me like that.” He chuckled saying that. “Sleep with me tonight. We can talk about it tomorrow. I promise.” He smirked and leaned in to steal your lips. Kissing you passionately before it quickly turned heated. His smirk became wider as he pulled away, dragging you towards the bed. “Let me make it up to you.”

[smoft-demons]

Hey, I've been reading your post for a while now andi absolutely love them. Before I got into OM I was already a big D&D person and love fantesty-romance novels. Although, that's besides the point. I was genuinely scared to ask this until I saw your headcanons, there so wholesome<3

But I was wondering if you could do a brothers + the others react to MC getting there period? I was planning on doing it on my own page but I'm a bit scared to publish my own stuff. Although, thank you if you do.

-H.M

Yeah, sure! As I’m sure you’ve noticed, I love writing all the comfort and fluff prompts. It’s like catnip to me lmao

This is gonna be pretty long, so I’m only gonna do the brothers.

Thanks for requesting!! I hope you like it :)

_______

MC is on their period

_______

You’ve been living in the House of Lamentation for a while now. You are, at this point, thoroughly and inextricably part of the family.

As a member of their family, your demons have no problem with helping you out. They can’t help but fawn over you a bit, as well—this wasn’t a familiar problem to them before meeting you, as none of them menstruate. Plus, any human condition of yours that highlights vulnerability and pain on your part makes them all get a tad protective.

In any case, they make sure to be helpful!

_______

Lucifer: responsibility -> rest

With your permission, Lucifer notes your cycle on the calendar he keeps on the kitchen wall. Tactfully, of course. It’s just a little red X in the corner of the box that marks the day you start until the day it ends. It ensures no one in the house forgets to be extra nice to you on those days. Plus, it serves as a way to remind you, in case it sneaks up on you.

In the week leading up to it, he checks up on your stock of human world products (and devildom ones too) for it. Painkillers, chocolate, tea, hygiene products, a heating pad, everything. If you’re running low, he will either take you to get more or take care of it himself, depending on how you’re feeling.

If you’re irregular, he takes extra care with tracking your cycle. Having records is important!

He takes you off the chore rotation while you’re bleeding. He wants you to rest. He will not make you expend your energy on chores while you’re in pain.

If you WANT to take some chores though, he understands and will let you, as long as you don’t make yourself suffer unnecessarily. He understands that some people cope worse with stress, illness, and/or pain when their routine is interrupted and they have no task to distract themself with. He would know! He’s one of them! So if you are too, he won’t force you to give up your tasks.

He does very strictly instruct you not to push yourself, however. You are to let him know immediately if you need to stop, so he or one of his brothers can help you out.

If you want somewhere quiet to hide, he’s got you. His study is a great spot for that! He won’t let anyone else in.

His room is another great spot for that, if you want a softer surface and dimmer lighting. You’re allowed to be in there without him if that ends up working out best (and he hopes you understand the level of trust in you he’s displaying by allowing that), but he has no problem with bringing his work out of the study and into his room if you want his company.

If he’s not on a time crunch, he won’t bother bringing any work with him though. Unless he has reason to expect you to feel guilty for taking up his time, in which case he will bring some and finish it in the room with you and then tell you he’s done for the day.

You end up lying on his bed with him, contorted in whatever weird position makes your cramps hurt the least. It’s the middle of the day, but for once Lucifer doesn’t seem to mind. He’s just lying next to you with his hand splayed over your uterus or lower back, applying light pressure and warmth to help the pain go away. Quietly talking to you about stuff that doesn’t matter.

There’s no concern for productivity. Nor for terrorizing his brothers into order. It seems the key for making Lucifer take a day to just relax is to request his company while you’re in pain.

See, Lucifer’s driving force is how much he loves his family. He will go to ANY lengths to keep them safe and happy. It’s his main priority. You’re part of his family now. You’re the youngest, even… and you’re in pain. So, he’s okay with pushing off the work Diavolo gives him for a day. For you, it’s worth it.

There’s no paperwork in any realm that he would prioritize over comforting you when you’re in pain. He hopes you feel all the love in that sentiment.

You know how huge a declaration that action is, because there is NO other way to get Lucifer to voluntarily lie around in the middle of the day.

_______

Mammon: devotion -> generosity

Mammon was the first one you went to for help during your very first period in the Devildom.

After a short, frantic conversation about what happened to you, why, and how you normally deal with this, he set you up in his room with some towels, a spare set of his own comfortably worn in clothes, and a movie as he rushed out to find some Devildom substitute for the hygiene products you’re used to. Just, SOMETHING to absorb the blood in the meantime before he can get you products from the human world!

He would have gone to the human world immediately, but he’s not allowed and he doesn’t have time to talk Lucifer into letting him up there yet!! You have NOTHING to work with right now, he’s gotta figure something out ASAP!

He didn’t even think about the amount of money he’s willing to spend, or how else he could be using it. He may not have been willing to tell you how much he cares for you at that point, but he has always come through for you when it matters. Even in the early days.

You find yourself contemplating Mammon’s contrasting demeanour while he’s out. This isn’t the first demonstration of his responsible mode that you’ve seen. It’s fascinating, the way he acts so careless and tsundere until someone needs him—at which point he drops that image like it’s nothing, revealing the softhearted and protective big brother he really is.

In those moments, you can see in his personality that he helped raise 5 little brothers (and one Lilith, though you don’t learn about her until later) and is actually pretty damn good at it. It’s clear that he loves you more than he’s willing to admit in those rare moments, when showing it genuinely matters.

Anyway. He came home with an assortment of items for you. No medicine yet because he doesn’t trust that Devildom painkillers won’t harm you, but he brought a BUNCH of snacks, and a collection of things that can be used to absorb the blood for now, until he can get Lucifer to let him go get the stuff you normally use from the human world. You can take your pick.

He even commissioned an enchanter to make you a custom heating pad, because he doesn’t trust the ones meant for demons to not burn your skin. He didn’t think about the price. Frankly, he doesn’t care. Maybe he’ll remember to complain about it to save face later. Maybe.

His main concern—making sure you’re okay—left no room to think of that in that moment. He waves off your concern about bloodstains on the stuff he lent you before he went out. Being reassuring in his usual irreverent way, saying something about how he’s a demon, and demons don’t tend to be squeamish about blood. Hell if he cares, he says.

While you’re in the bathroom washing up and dealing with the bleeding (with a SECOND set of Mammon’s worn-in, comfy clothes that he put in your hands before shoving you into the bathroom, not giving you a second to refuse), Mammon is texting Lucifer to find a way to get you proper period supplies from the human world.

When you come back to him, he tells you that you’ll have what you need before you go to bed, but in the meantime you should sit, because he’s putting on another movie.

He watches you shift around uncomfortably over the next few minutes. Cramps, you know. You’re not exactly comfortable sitting the way you are. Without a word, he pulls you to lie down with your head resting on his leg. He’s looking away from you, indistinctly mumbling something about “so lucky I’m lookin’ after ya” and “what would ya do without the great Mammon” and “MY human, damn it” as he carefully rubs tension out of your back.

“What was that?” You ask him.

“Shut up an’ watch the damn movie!” He splutters.

You stay like that until Lucifer shows up with your requested items. Pads, tampons, a menstrual cup, painkillers, whatever it is you asked for.

Later that night, as Mammon persists in rubbing your back as another movie plays, you find that your trust in him is stronger than it has ever been before. You understand exactly why Mammon is the best demon to be in charge of your well-being. Lucifer chose him for a reason, and it’s impossible to miss. Mammon is so damn caring under the tsundere façade.

You feel so loved. You ARE so loved. The pain fades away under the warmth of his hands. His lap makes a good pillow, and Mammon makes a great guardian.

(Every month after this, he leaves his door open for you in case you want a distraction from the pain. He’s ready with snacks and a movie. He’ll happily do this for you every time.)

_______

Levi: passion -> gentleness

Whatever it is that Levi notices first—be it the blood, the worse mood, the regular time spent with Mammon every month—he freaks out. He’s like “AAAAWTF WHY ARE YOU BLEEDING ARE YOU DYING???” Or like “oh noooo are you mad at me why are you randomly sad do you hate me now??” Or like “why can’t you reschedule with Mammon and do this time limited event with me, do you not wanna play with me anymore???”

Either way, bro is suffering.

Eventually, either you or one of his older brothers explains to him, and he feels bad. He didn’t mean to stress you out worse! Also, periods are real?? He thought it was just some creative plot point in the occasional anime! That’s crazy, why are humans built like that??

Anyway. Levi’s nothing if not passionate, and he’s gonna turn some of that passion towards finding ways to make you more comfortable.

He will find a way to order all the human world snacks you crave while you’re bleeding. He will be on the lookout for gifts, like games and merch and manga you’d want. He stockpiles them so he always has something ready to cheer you up when you need that.

He will even do his best to redirect the envy he feels towards Mammon and his established routine of movies and snacks in his room with you lying in his lap and getting free back rubs on the first day of your period each month. He wants that to be him, damn it! But he’s not gonna disrupt that for you.

He WILL claim hanging out with you on your day 2 though, AND will fill in every time if Mammon’s not available. The only thing that can beat out his shyness at the idea of having you using his lap as a pillow is the raging envy at knowing MAMMON gets to have that every month!

(Eventually, once you figure out that Levi wants to be invited so bad, you just invite him. It’s not like you don’t want him there! He’s very happy to sit next to you with your legs in his lap while he ignores Mammon’s stupid movie and plays a game on his phone. It’s nice to have two demon pillows. This one’s got built-in cooling!)

Levi understands not wanting to deal with lights and noise and craziness when you’re in pain. He will prevent any of his brothers from bringing any of that around you with all the determination and passion he brings to everything he cares about.

He is remarkably gentle, for someone who is usually so excitable. So considerate! You can see in the way he forces everyone to only argue over text, in the gentle movement of cool, nimble hands over sore calves and hips and ankles, in the presentation of snacks and gifts determinedly brought to you from the human world, how much he cares about you. He loves you, he loves you, he loves you.

_______

Satan: research -> comfort

The first order of business for nerd boy here is, of course, research. He is gathering information from all his relevant contacts—every human sorcerer and witch he knows, every demon with a pact-bonded menstruating human they care about AND the aforementioned human, every healer, medical researcher, librarian…

Yeah, he’s gonna end up knowing more about it than you do.

He comes back home after a few days, mumbling about human endocrine systems and nutrition and medical malpractice of menstruating patients and the mechanics of blood production and every phase of a menstrual cycle and how pain works on a chemical level. He’s got notebooks and everything. He’s got the whole history of menstruation since the beginning of humanity summarized in one of those notebooks.

… Maybe it’s a bit overkill. But you know how he gets when he’s curious, especially about something that hurts you! He’s gotta know everything!

So now he’s infodumping to you about every symptom you mention. If you’re the sort of person who finds that interesting and helpful, perfect! If you’re not… well, he won’t be offended if you get mad at him for effectively mansplaining your own body to you. Demon-splaining? Whatever, either way he will take that correction with grace and only tell you information you directly ask for. He’s learned enough about menstruation to be very sympathetic and patient while you’re in the middle of it. It seems awful to him, and he’s not about to make it worse!

He’s wise enough to know that he should ask before ACTING on any of that information though. He won’t try to optimize your nutrition or your painkillers or anything unless you ask him to. He knows that would be too far. He’s not prideful enough to override you like that, he’s not Lucifer.

If you get really angry when you bleed, he’s got you! He understands, he encourages you to yell and rant in front of him all you want. Throw around some destructive spellwork or just break stuff if you need to, he’s got a room for that. It’s all good!

Satan is so good with practical comfort. He’s big on venting for your health and sanity. He knows what buttons not to push, they’re obvious to him as wrath incarnate.

Of course, he’ll also give you hugs and drive off his crazy brothers if you need peace. He’ll bring you to the cats when you get sick of people. He’ll find you any answer you need. If your cycle is irregular or in any way atypical, there’s no better demon to have searching for answers for you—and he’d NEVER let no medical malpractice happen to you. Doctors are GOING to take you seriously, damn it!

To him, there’s no such thing as too much hassle to help someone he loves so much as he loves you.

_______

Asmo: luxury -> selflessness

As the Avatar of Lust, there’s no way Asmo doesn’t know the basics of how menstrual cycles work. No way. Even if demons don’t get them, it’s relevant to his whole domain.

Asmo’s got you. He’s gonna spoil the hell out of you. Massages with fancy oils, hot baths with magic muscle relaxant products added, masks to prevent any skin issues from fluctuating hormones, everything he can think of.

If anyone even tries to make you do anything you don’t want to, he will destroy them. This is a time for rest, he insists!

He relishes any opportunity to relax with you, have a self-care day, just chill and recharge together… but he’s prioritizing you. You get to see the rare responsible Asmo during this time! If you have non-negotiable responsibilities, he’s helping you. He wants you to get done faster!

He’s actually got a pretty great strategic mind when he’s incentivized to use it! He’s so efficient! Only because he wants you to be in his room relaxing as fast as possible, but it’s totally there!

At the end of it all, it’s completely possible that he forgets about spoiling himself too, just because he got so focused on trying to take as much of your pain away as possible. It’s wild that he doesn’t think he has any capacity for selflessness. Good thing you know better.

_______

Beel: perceptiveness -> caring

Beel smells the blood. Immediately. At first he’s concerned but minds his own business, trusting that Mammon’s taking care of you. But after you’ve pacted with him? Not anymore.

Beel becomes your warning system. He will notify you as soon as the hormonal shift starts to happen. Days before you even start bleeding.

You know it’s because he cares, and that he can’t avoid noticing the change in your scent whether he wants to or not. You choose not to think it’s weird.

He gets worried once he learns about what happens to you every month. His first priority is making sure he doesn’t eat everything that’s high in iron, folic acid, vitamin C and D, and omega-3s. All very good for you when you’re on your period. He makes sure that stuff remains available to you.

He invites you to exercise with him too, because he heard that can be helpful. He won’t STOP you from lifting if that’s what you want to do, but HE is choosing to focus on stretching and moderate cardio for now (stuff that should be more helpful for you) and if you want to join him, well… that’s what he’s doing. What do you mean he changed it on purpose? He just felt like yoga and a nice jog today! Don’t think about it too hard!

Beel is actually the best one to go to for massages. Sure, Asmo knows what feels good and he’s phenomenal at that. True. But Beel is the one who understands every muscle and tendon in a body, so if you want a full, functional reset, in which all the tension and soreness in you gets methodically, optimally pressed out, you go to Beel. It might not feel quite as nice—in fact it might hurt a fair bit—but it’ll be so effective. You will have no pain at all after. Plus, he’ll teach you stretches to prevent some of that tension coming back later, too. He’s so helpful.

_______

Belphie: laziness -> service

We all know Belphie is the number one advocate for rest. He will encourage you to sleep through as much of it as possible. Why would you want to be awake to experience pain? Screw that. He will actively keep you asleep as long as possible—unless you tell him in advance that there has to be limits so you don’t bleed on everything you’re touching. Even so, he doesn’t quite see the problem. He’s a demon, he’s not squeamish about blood. What biohazard?

But no, he’ll respect that. If he’s a lil shit about it, all you have to do is pull the “remember that time you killed me” card and he’ll do whatever you want lol

In the biggest twist of irony since The Incident, Belphie actually finds himself serving as your alarm clock. It has to be him, you see, because he insists on sleeping next to you. He wants to be there to ensure you sleep through the night, and don’t ever get woken up by cramps. So it’s gotta be him to wake you up when it’s absolutely necessary. Because you see, he does not trust anyone else to understand what’s absolutely necessary. Only someone who loves sleep as much as him gets it, he insists.

Belphie is nothing if not lazy. Obviously. But… he’s actually voluntarily doing work on your behalf?? He’s concealing bloodstains on your sheets from you so you don’t feel uncomfortable, and washing them for you. He isn’t even telling you about that, so he isn’t even getting any thanks for it! How very kind and un-demonic of him!

(Of course, he’s mostly doing it because he doesn’t want you to feel embarrassed and stop sleeping next to him while you’re on your period. He’s got selfish reasons. But… really, it’s not very selfish at all when you look at how that benefits you too. How could he be so surprised to hear that you think he can be kind and sweet when he wants to be? How’s he not seeing it??)

He may deny that he’s actually a sweetie, but you know the truth. When sloth incarnate is voluntarily doing secret chores for you, you KNOW he loves you. It might as well be spilling out of his soul, it’s so undeniable.

_______

You’re bleeding. It’s miserable. No one likes their period. It’s made much more bearable for you, however, now that you have this ridiculous family falling over themselves to make your life easier. All the pain, all the hormonal fuckery, all the bullshit your body puts you through is… well, actually quite tolerable when you’re loved this much.

[solanasreality]

†⠀⠀ㅤֺ⠀ SLEEP 2 DREAM : SURRENDER / ACCEPTANCE .

︖ ── at some point, you have to take control of your shifting journey. “i think someone’s playing a trick on me!!!@” i promise you, you aren’t that important, and nobody’s going to dedicate this much time for a lie. the world isn’t revolved around you (unless you’ve assumed it is, congratulations, you’ve shifted).

﹒ what if you shifted the next time you tried? what if you gave it your all? what if you reset your shifting journey ℘ forgot about all the terms you heard? what if you started over from scratch?

﹒non-dualism is the notion that nothing is separate from you. it means that you are everything—you are the painter sculpting the universe, you are the earth, and you are the painting. so, you have what you want, because you’ve created it by acknowledging it. all you have to do is move your awareness.

law of assumption : whatever you assume is what you’re subconscious will perceive to be true. what you repeatedly affirm becomes your reality. enough about “feeling it real,” or “being in the state.” it’s all about what you repeatedly tell yourself.

﹒now that we’ve got the basics down, it’s up to you to decide whether you want to change your thoughts or stay persistent in living in the same reality everyday. you can’t create based on the past, and if you think you can, you’re reacting to what you’ve already persisted in when you weren’t consciously creating. you’re surrendering.

── METHODS 𝐓𝐎 USE .

﹒after it’s clicked that you don’t need methods to shift, or accepted that the power comes from within, shifting can become fun again.

visualization : visualization can help saturate your mind, especially if you’re a daydreamer like i am. bask yourself into the inner scapes of your mind and make it a safe space, something no one can take away. all you need to do is a say an affirmation thaf goes, “this is the real me,” and daydream away.

reprogramming your subconscious : MY inspiration for the theme ‼️ instead of seeing sleeping as you waking up in your cr, you can reprogram your mind to see it as a trigger for shifting. as soon as you hit the pillow, your mind is traveling the cosmos, that isn’t an affirmation, it’s a fact. or, alternatively, your brain sees waking up as a trigger to shift. as soon as your in that in-between state while you’re drowsy (you know the feeling), you say a few affirmations and trust you’ll be there. why? because you don’t go to sleep to dream, you’re standing firm in the fact that you’ve shifted.

romanticizing your dr : or more like, romanticizing yourself. you’re not your reality nor your surroundings. you’re finally who you want to be, you’ve always have been, so tune into that. what are your hobbies? favorite snacks? favorite martini after a long day of work? favorite pillow? favorite pet that you wouldn’t admit to the others? make it FUN. this is not a chore. remember that.

aligning your energy : this is mostly for my spirituality girlies, start aligning your energy. meditation, tarot cards, just align your mindset, but keep it simple. (if i catch any of you using the law of at*raction i’m coming for you 🫵)

think as if : when i say this, i might really get into it. get protective over your dr—your life, it’s something personal to you, just as your life is here. there are some things you wouldn’t want us to know here, right? keep the same energy. show some decorum, y’know?

── ACCEPT IT’S OVER .

﹒accept your shifting journey is over, because it is. it ended the moment you trusted in yourself, the moment you allowed yourself to shift. there’s nothing else to do, because your future is already written in stone. you exist to travel the universal plane and walk amongst the stars.

﹒ despite any of these methods you decide to use, or any at all, the main point is to stop surrendering. you know you’re made for more, otherwise, you wouldn’t be reading this. shifting is the easiest thing you can do, it’s up to you to use it consciously to your benefit.

[pupwashing]

dad!jimmy x daughter!reader

tags: this work contains incest, noncon, and choking!!! beware!!!!

a/n: as promised.. dad jimmy :3 im gonna get to work on the other two requests I received and those should be posted sometime soon.. keep your eyes peeled!! hope those who wanted dad jimmy enjoy..

dad jimmy. he’s barely a father, more like an overseer of your life.

he isn’t the most affectionate, nor is he interested in what your ambitions are, but he’s most certainly there.

even though he’s shitty, you can’t bring yourself to hate him. he’s still your dad.

you never knew your mom, and jimmy would rather not talk about her. he always gets apprehensive if you try to ask, so you stopped when you were a child.

jimmy has weird habits. he stays up late, later than any person should stay up. you swear you’ve never seen him asleep.

his state of always being awake makes you uneasy. you’ve been hearing noises late at night, like your door knob rattling.

when you bring it up to jimmy, he brushes you off. he insists you need to relax, that no one’s out to get you. it’s just the late night paranoia.

it’s sound reasoning until you wake up with him on top of you.

one hand grasping your neck, the other aiding him and getting his pants off.

he doesn’t realize you’re awake until you try to kick him, and he catches your ankle before it can hit him.

“relax, kid. it’s not gonna hurt you.” he grunts, moving to take off your panties. it’s not surprising to him that you sleep in so little; your mommy’s a whore. that’s how you came to be.

it’s sickening to jimmy, to see you flaunt your pussy like a wild animal. didn’t he raise you better than this?

he felt his stomach twist when he realizes your pretty cunt is already shaven. were you trying to impress someone?

his hand around your neck squeezes tightly as he stares down at you.

“who’s this for, kid? you planning on meeting a guy?” he asks, gritting his teeth.

you gasp, much smaller hand wrapping around his wrist.

“no, dad. i’m not meeting anyone.” you choke out, eyes wide with fear. he wouldn’t kill you, would he?

his grip on your neck loosens, and he nudges his cockhead against your hole.

you aren’t that wet, so a glob of spit will do the job. he’s sure you’ve taken worse than him.

you plea and cry out, but he ignores it all. in fact, you see his cock twitch as you struggle.

you aren’t strong enough to get him off of you (obviously), so he proceeds with sheathing inside you.

you scream, and he clamps his hand over your mouth. at least it’s not around your neck anymore.

“shut up.” he commands, not giving you any time to adjust before he begins to pump his hips.

his dick isn’t huge by any means, but it’s enough for it to hurt when he moves. all of your cries are just fuel for him to keep going.

for someone who’s acting like they don’t like it, your pussy squeezing him awfully tight. your gummy walls accept him, even if your mind does not.

jimmy’s eerily quiet as he fucks you. he doesn’t grunt, he doesn’t groan. he only breathes, and it’s hard to believe this is your father doing this to you.

each snap of his hips brings you closer to the edge instead of your peak. as his dick violates your guts, you look up, seeing your father’s face.

it’s the last thing you see before your vision goes black. you pass out right before he cums.

when you come to, the dull throb between your legs reminds you of what occurred before you lost consciousness.

you look down at your tummy, noticing the dried cum. he hadn’t even tried to clean up the evidence of his assault on you.

you decide against getting up, and instead lay on your bed in silence.

you don’t even have the energy to cry.

you hope jimmy got what he wanted out of you.

[pendingnomdeplume]

the undone and the divine (bedroom hymns) pairing: hozier x fem!reader rating: explicit (18+) tags: Praise Kink, Dirty Talk (sort of), PIV Sex words: 5.2k

[Read it on AO3]

title from Bedroom Hymns by Florence + the Machine divider by: sylusz

Things are not going well. 

Truthfully, things haven’t been going well for a while, but you’ve tried to ignore it, tried to manifest your way into reducing stress with vitamins, mindfulness, and a fair bit of recreational drug use. The ashwagandha helps (taken at the behest of Andrew who raves about the benefits of mushroom-based drinks and supplements), but it’s a bandage slapped over the real problem: Work is destroying you, mind, body, and soul.

And, sure, okay, maybe you don’t need to be pulling 60-hour work weeks for an incompetent boss who dumps a majority of his tasks onto you. Maybe you don’t need to bring your computer home every weekend “just in case.” But, if you don’t get the work done, who will?

“Your boss?” Andrew answers when you verbalize the question, one eyebrow raised as though it’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard.

You roll your eyes and reply with a snort, “Yeah, that’ll definitely happen.” 

A songbird's melody echoes down the chimney as you sit nestled into his side, his arm thrown around you lazily as you cradle a cup of coffee in your hands. Your laptop bag sits on a chair in the corner of the room, and you stare at it while anxiety brews in your gut. The compulsion to check your email has your fingers itching, but Andrew will protest if you try to peel away from him during this quiet morning together. 

“You work too hard, my love,” he murmurs before pressing a kiss to your temple. 

With another roll of your eyes, you reply, “That’s rich coming from you of all people.”

He scoffs but says nothing. 

Andrew knows you’re right, knows that he can’t argue against you when he’s spent the majority of the last two years touring non-stop. It’s been a point of contention before, mostly during his breaks that leave you a mere 2 weeks together before he’s off again. 

Now, he’s home for the foreseeable future (or, until the summer festivals start), and he’s starting to suffer the same frustrations of not having you around, nor having your attention on days where you shouldn’t be thinking about work at all. Bad habits die hard, and you’ve gotten so used to his absence that work eventually became the solution to the void of loneliness within you. 

After all, it’s hard to feel sad when you don’t have the time or energy to feel anything but anxiety.

A vibrating sound emanates from your laptop bag. It’s your work phone that Andrew made you shove away before sitting with you this morning. The sound of it makes you tense, your body ready to spring forward and retrieve it, but Andrew keeps a tight grip on you.

“No,” he scolds like one might chastise a puppy. “Let it go.”

Anxiety prickles along your skin. “Baby, I have to check,” you say as you pull away from him and set your mug down on the table. He doesn’t try to stop you this time, his arm thumping on the couch cushion as you move towards your bag. 

There’s a missed call from your boss, followed by an email chain forwarded to you with a message from him: 

What happened here? How did the system fail in the first place? Why are we not catching these kinds of errors sooner? 

It’s a thread that you were looped into a few days ago—something about a payroll error that left you testing and re-testing the system until well into the evening, hours after your scheduled end time. Your boss was copied on every email explaining the situation, and you made sure to copy him on your replies indicating that the issue was handled so he didn’t have to worry. 

You sigh loudly as you stare up at the ceiling. “God, I’m so fucking over this.” 

“What happened?” Andrew asks tentatively as you turn back around to look at him. 

You shrug, face screwed up in a sardonic smile as you shrug. “The amount of work that I do for this motherfucker, and he can’t even read a fucking email thread. The answers are right there, Gabriel. Everything you just fucking asked me is right there.” 

With another sigh, you collapse back onto the couch with your arms folded over your chest. 

“But he’s fucking right! I should’ve caught this shit earlier! If I had then—”

Andrew interrupts, “Lives were lost, yeah?” It’s snarky and fractious, and you feel irritation build like a heat in your chest. “I’m so sorry, I completely forgot that your company delivers fucking organs for immediate, dire transplants. I mean, do you hear yourself right now?”

You glare at him. “Andrew, do not.”

He rolls his eyes. “Right, yeah, of course. I forgot how much Gabriel’s opinion matters more than your partner’s concerns.” 

You close your eyes and inhale deeply through your nose, trying to remember the 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 sequence for mindfulness. Was it five things you can touch or that you can see? 

“Baby, I love you so much, and I appreciate your concern. But I’m the fucking idiot who didn’t catch a simple error, and now my boss thinks I’m a dipshit who can’t do their job right. God, it always feels like I’m fucking something up. Why can’t I just get this shit right for once in my life?”

“Oh, Jesus Christ.” Andrew throws his hands up in the air with a scoff. “I am so tired of this.” 

With a frown, you snap back, “What? What are you so tired of, Andrew?”

“I’m tired of your insistence that you’re stupid, or that you can’t do your job, or that you’re always fucking things up despite the fact that you seem to be the sole reason your office functions at all. And you’re not just doing your job, you’re doing the job of about three people without the acknowledgement or pay to back it up.

“It’s not your fault that your boss can’t read a fucking email thread. And, how would you know to look for a problem when it hadn’t even occurred yet? Are you supposed to be fucking psychic?

“I mean, fuck’s sake, it’s obvious how absolutely miserable you are doing this. It’s obvious how little these people care about you, not because you’re ‘bad at your job,’ but because they see the work you do and expect more. Your only reward for being good at what you do seems to be receiving even more work.”

You scoff a hollow laugh. “Throwing stones in glass houses, aren’t ya, Andrew?”

“At least I enjoy what I do. The miserable part is having to be away from you.”

Oh. 

It’s like a shot straight to your heart. Guilt churns in your stomach as you look away from him. 

“I…”

A part of you wants to argue that he chooses to do those long tours, but you know that’s not entirely true. It’s more at the behest of the label, trying to parade him out as much as possible despite his resistance to such things. Their reluctant show pony. It’s why he has any social media at all, though he has nothing to do with it any longer. 

Tears prick the corners of your eyes, your throat tightening as you try to swallow down your emotions. But one sniffle has him quickly wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug. You turn your face into his chest as a few hot tears roll down your cheeks. You wrap your arms around his lithe frame as he presses a kiss to your head.

“Baby,” he murmurs against your hair. “I hate seeing you so miserable. I know we’ve talked about it before, but please consider my offer.”

“Andrew—”

“Please, just think about it.”

The offer has been on the table since last year when he came home for a break and found you sobbing in a darkened room with only the glow of your laptop illuminating your curled up form. Andrew had laid it out for you plainly: Quit your job and let him support you. He’d said it so easily, and you knew that he meant it, that he was more than capable of supporting the both of you given his income.

The thought has always made you uncomfortable. It seems unfair not to pull any kind of income, not to pay your own way in life with your own means. On top of that, what are you to do with your time if you’re not working? The concept of “free time” makes you anxious. Your mind and your hands need to stay busy; an unstructured day with hours of daylight and no plan sounds like a genuine nightmare.

But, could boredom and lack of direction be any worse than this? God knows the amount of cortisol coursing through your system has shaved a few years off of your lifespan, and that’s not including the cigarettes you sneak every now and again, nor the alcohol consumed when you finally have a chance to breathe and let loose. 

You should be ecstatic that Andrew is home, that you finally get to spend more time together now that his obligations are far fewer and farther in between. Except, you haven’t spent much time together at all with your overtime hours. 

It’s obvious that this situation is affecting him as well. You hate seeing him hurt, and it makes sense that he’d feel the same about you. If your stress is causing him stress, then you’ve effectively created an ouroboros of misery based entirely around your work. 

Your phone buzzes again with Gabriel’s name at the top, and a wave of nausea overcomes you as your throat tightens in the threat of another sob. A soothing hand immediately rubs at your back, and you’re hit with the realization that you’ve been in this position before. 

It’s less deja vu and more a bleak understanding that this isn’t the first, second, or third time you’ve sat on this specific couch with Andrew holding you and talking you through another job-related meltdown. 

The thought of this cycle repeating ad nauseam for the rest of your life makes you want to cry.

How long can he stand you complaining about unnecessary suffering before he decides he’s had enough? Andrew’s offer sits on the table collecting cobwebs, and you continuously deny it, for what? For another quarter of feeling insignificant and unappreciated despite carrying the weight of the workplace squarely on your shoulders? For another day of your boss taking the credit for your hard work? How many more thankless years are you willing to put up with before you finally snap? 

And, why should you wait until you’re ready to snap at all? Why must you reach the extremes of suffering before you’re willing to do anything about it? Why do you continue to bear the cross for a company that can and will discard you the moment you are no longer useful for their bottom line?

“Baby,” you say quietly as you pull back to look up at him. “D’you think we can go to the post office today?” 

Andrew frowns, confused. “I mean, sure. But…why?”

“I’ve got some things to send back to London.”

You shut down your work phone completely and move to shove it into your laptop bag. Anger begins to roil as you stomp around now in search of the stupid laptop charger, the stupid mouse, the stupid, cheap headset they provided to you despite making money hand over fist every quarter. 

Still in your pajamas with a hoodie thrown over, you grab your car keys and beckon Andrew to follow. On the way, you ask him to find your personal phone in your bag and pull up Gabriel’s contact information. There are missed calls there, too, including a voicemail that you instruct Andrew to delete immediately. 

As you putter along a backroad heading towards the town proper, you ask, “Can you hit ‘call’ and put it on speaker, please?”

Andrew does so with a look of pure glee as he holds the phone closer to you. 

“Jesus Christ, finally. Where the fuck have you been? I’ve been calling you all morning about this payroll bullshit, and you haven’t—”

With a smile, you cut him off. “Hey, Gabriel, so sorry about that. The payroll thing is all squared and resolved. In fact, you would know that if you read a single fucking email in your entire life.” 

Andrew grins as your boss splutters on the other end. 

“Anyway, I’m calling to let you know that I quit. Effective immediately.”

Gabriel chokes out, “What? But you can’t just—” 

“I sure can! Don’t worry, HR will be getting an official notice shortly.”

He bites back, “This is a breach of your contract, you know. We explicitly outlined a month’s time frame if you’re to leave. You won’t get paid through the rest of your contracted time if you leave.” 

You roll your eyes. “Right. I’m well aware. Really, I just wanted to make sure to let you know that all of my tech and equipment will be going back to the main London office. Thought I’d give you a heads up first, though. Y’know, as a courtesy.” 

“As a courtesy? I—you—?! Just fucking bring it here!”

You pretend to think. “See, here’s the thing: I think IT should have this handed to them directly. All that PII, customer data, and all of those reports I built out over the last few years? And all of those analytics that are saved locally to my computer’s hard drive? Figured it’s best to let them deal with wiping it.”

“That’s—it’s—-now, let’s not do anything too hasty here. We can talk this out, right—? If you just send me copies of—”

Eyes still on the road, you reach over and hit the ‘end call’ button with a smug smile.

Andrew scoffs and shakes his head, laughing to himself as he says, “God, I’m so in love with you.”

Business at the post office takes very little time. You know the HQ address off-hand given how many times you’ve typed it in your life, and the bored clerk prints out a shipping label before taking the box and carrying it out of sight. 

“No going back now,” you mutter on your way out as Andrew holds the door.

Once in the car, he waits until you’re back on the road to ask, “So…does this mean you’re taking me up on my offer?” His tone is so earnestly hopeful that it makes you want to cry all over again. 

“Yes. For now.” A sideways glance at him reveals his befuddled expression. “Baby, I don’t want to stop working forever. I need to make my own money. I need to do things for myself. But, maybe I can find something less…demanding. And your offer gives me the opportunity to find something I want to do instead of praying that something comes up so I could jump ship.”

There’s silence as he mulls over your answer. Then, he nods and replies, “Yeah, I get that. I just…I mean, I want you to be happy. If that means never working another day in your life, you know I’ll support you. And, who knows? Maybe you’ll find something remote. Then you can come travel with me.” 

Home has never felt so freeing now that work is no longer a leaden weight holding you down. You can feel the automatic processes happening in your brain, trying to figure out what the next meeting is, the next deadline, the next one-one-one that would inevitably be cancelled at the last minute. It will take a while to unlearn the anxious vigilance instilled in you over the last few years, but there’s a joy in knowing that none of those things matter now.

The biggest question on your mind now is what to do first. There are so many little projects you’ve had in mind, things you and Andrew have discussed about the bedroom and the garden. It’s almost overwhelming to think of where you can possibly even start now that you have the time, energy, and brain capacity to manage it. 

Andrew seems to have different ideas as you cross the threshold into the bedroom with him close behind. He catches you around your waist and pulls you back against him as you squeak indignantly.

“Nope,” he muses as you fake a struggle against him. “There’s something else we need to discuss first.”

That tone. It’s the same low, honey-soaked voice he always uses to tease you. For a man who presents so meek and mild, he sure knows how to put on the charm when the mood strikes. 

“What’s that?” you ask carefully, already pressing your thighs together in anticipation.

“You have this nasty little habit of making terribly self-deprecating comments. It’s very unbecoming, darling.”

Huh. That’s not where you expected him to go.

“I…I mean, I know it’s not good…” Your feeble argument dies on your tongue as his hands slip beneath your shirt, cold fingers pressing into your skin. 

Andrew hums. “For someone so smart and capable, you’re quite unkind to yourself.” 

The words make you blush as you attempt to squirm away from him again. No dice. He doesn’t let up, instead tightens his hold on you as he drops kisses along your neck. 

“Ah, nonono, sweet thing. You’re not getting away that easily.” 

You know that he would release you and drop the whole thing should you demand it. You have no issue putting the kibosh on anything you’re not interested in continuing, and he is well aware. Whatever it is that’s on his mind right now is…intriguing. Your body seems to agree as that pulse between your thighs grows stronger. 

“Need I remind you how lovely you really are?” 

The heat of your blush reaches the tips of your ears, spreads along your chest. 

“I’m really not,” you mutter as his hands move up to cup your breasts. Deft fingers gently pinch and rub at your hardened nipples, pulling a soft gasp from you.

There’s a pause as he chuckles warmly, the sound reverberating through your chest like a cat’s purr. He leans in close to your ear and murmurs, “Darling, no arguments. Unless you want me to stuff something into that pretty little mouth of yours, of course.”

Oh.

It’s said so sweetly, so innocuously that the words throw you for a loop. Meek and mild, your fucking arse. This man is a menace, so easily dropping the filthiest things as though they’re merely flippant remarks. 

Apparently, your stunned silence pleases him as he whispers, “Good girl.” 

It’s such a simple phrase, but your knees wobble as you try to keep yourself steady, the wind nearly knocked out of you.

“Andrew, what—” 

One large hand over your mouth quiets you as he coos, “Baby, shush. What’d I just say, hm?”

Warmth spirals in your stomach as he helps you peel your shirt away, and then his hands are on you again, kneading at the fullness of your chest. 

“You are far too harsh on yourself, my love. I think you need to be reminded of how incredible you really are.” 

Embarrassment and arousal make you dizzy as he guides you towards the bed and encourages you to lie down on your back. You scooch back far enough on the mattress that he’s able to slot between your legs easily, resting on his knees as he hooks fingers into the waistband of your shorts and tugs them off along with your panties. 

You’re surprised by the lack of panache, the lack of foreplay before getting you naked. It’s not his usual style, but none of this has been particularly routine so far. The urge to cover yourself is strong as he admires you, but you stay still, fingers curling into the duvet. 

“God, you’re so beautiful. I don’t think I say that enough.” 

You roll your eyes, unable to tamp down your bashful smile. “You say it plenty.”

Andrew raises one eyebrow in a warning look as he holds an index finger to his lips. You roll your eyes again but say nothing. 

“Absolutely beautiful and so fuckin’ mouthy. Christ.” He shakes his head as he laughs to himself. “It’s part of what I love about you, though. One of the many things I love about you.”

Your pulse quickens as he looms over you, and you’re reminded of just how large and imposing he can actually be. The thought shouldn’t arouse you as much as it does, but nothing about this situation is conventional, and you suppose it’s never a bad day to learn something new about yourself. 

He smiles so sweetly as he says, “Do you want to know what else I love about you?” The question is obviously rhetorical, so he continues. “Your stunning eyes…your pretty lips…your cute little expressions when you’re embarrassed.” 

You squirm as he runs his fingers along your chest. “I don’t think I need to tell you how much I love your body. It drives me mad when you send those cheeky little photos while I’m away. Especially the boudoir photos in all that black lace.” 

The admission makes you smirk. 

You’re far more forward with your sexual advances as you’ve gotten more comfortable with him, yourself, and your relationship. There’s a specific glee to receiving incoherent responses via text when you send him something suggestive. Oftentimes, it’s followed up with messages in all caps indicating that he is in public, and this is not the time to be turning him on. 

(Your favorite replies are the ones received right before he’s meant to go out on stage, the ones where he clarifies that he had to hide an erection behind his guitar for the first half of his set because of you.) 

“Sometimes, I can’t believe that you’re mine.” 

Another wave of heat washes over you. Andrew’s possessiveness is no secret, but you still thrill at his words when he vocalizes it, calls you his. 

“And yet…” He lets out an exaggerated sigh. “You don’t see yourself the way I see you. It’s such a shame, really.” 

Without warning, his thumb drags against your clit, making you gasp sharply and buck up into the sensation. He hums a little laugh as two fingers drag along your folds, already slick despite him doing nothing more than speaking and lightly touching you. One finger slips into you, then a second as you whimper and throw your arm over your eyes.

Softly, he says, “You’re so pretty like this, darling. All spread out and wet for me even though I’ve barely touched you. Such a good girl.”

A giddy, nervous laugh bubbles up in your chest, and he smiles.

“Ah, so you like that…that’s good to know.” Then, with a tilt of his head, he asks, “Tell me what you want, sweet thing. Do you want me to go down on you? Or, do you want me to fuck you?”

Both options are tantalizing, but his fingers aren’t enough to quell that hollow ache, and you desperately want to come with him inside of you. 

Finally, you manage to whisper, “Fuck me. Please.”

There’s something about the way Andrew looks at you, grinning almost wolfishly as though he were hoping for that response. 

Your eyes are drawn to his hands as he slowly unbuckles his belt and pulls it through the loops before tossing it aside. The tent in his jeans is obvious now as he unbuttons them, unzips them before pushing them down his thighs along with his black boxers. The display makes you throb with need.

His cock is so pretty, long and curved and already dripping from the tip. The sight makes your mouth water, and you swallow audibly as he strokes himself. 

Andrew tugs you roughly by your hips before grasping himself again and teasing your slit with the head of his length. You whine as he presses into you at an agonizingly slow pace, rolling your hips in a fruitless attempt at forcing him deeper inside of you. He tuts at you, shakes his head, and pulls back until you’re empty again. 

“Ah-ah, no. I need you to do something for me first, okay? See, something my therapist told me once is that positive affirmations do help rework some of those negative internal judgments of yourself despite how silly it feels.” 

Well. That’s…not exactly the pillowtalk you expected to hear. 

He rubs the head of his cock against your clit as he continues, and you can’t bite back your wanton groan. 

Breathlessly, he asks, “I think we should try a little exercise, hm? And if you’re good, I’ll give you what you want. Now, I’m going to say something, and I want you to repeat back to me, okay?”

You blink as he stares at you expectantly. It seems you have no choice in the matter. Not if you want to be fucked six ways from Sunday.

“Baby, please…”

His smile and voice are so soft, so gentle that it makes your chest ache. “I know, darling, I know. You want to feel good, though, right? And I want to make you feel good, but the only way that happens is if you follow instructions. Now, repeat after me: I am not defined by my accomplishments.”

Embarrassment twists in your stomach as you avoid his tender gaze, mouth pressed firmly in a line. 

You swallow audibly and meet his eyes again with a petulant scoff. “Fine…I am not defined by my accomplishments.” 

“Good girl,” he coos. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it? Now, let’s try it again. This time, without the attitude, yeah? Repeat after me: I am worthy of love and respect.”

He’s stroking himself again as he says it, his breath hitching and his eyes fluttering as he tries to stay focused on the task at hand. The teasing is driving you mad, arousal leaving a slick sheen on your inner thighs. 

You whine quietly as pleasure shoots up your spine, then murmur, “I am worthy of love and respect.”

“Very good, baby…thank you for following directions.” 

You mildly resent the way his earnest praise makes you want to beam like a child being congratulated on their school marks. 

“Now,” he continues, laughing when you groan impatiently. “Last one, darling, I promise. Repeat after me: The weight of the world does not rest on me.”

With another swallow and a deep breath, you repeat back to him, “The weight of the world does not rest on me.” 

Andrew leans over you to catch you in a kiss that you can’t help but smile into. When he pulls away, he sits back on his knees and runs his fingers along your hips.

“You’ve been so good for me, sweet thing,” he murmurs as he drags the head of his cock through your folds. “I think you deserve some indulgence.” 

Before you can respond, he presses into you with a satisfied groan. “God, you feel...” 

“Oh, god,” you whine as the discomfort of sudden, stretching fullness gives way to tingling pleasure. 

Patience may be a virtue, but the impatience of your desire is a vice that has you wrapping your legs around his waist to keep him in place. He merely chuckles and squeezes one thigh while slowly, steadily pulling out before pushing back into you roughly. 

He looms over you again, pressing your knees back as he leans in to kiss you. You whimper as he kisses along your jaw, every movement making you squirm and quietly beg for more. 

“That’s it. That’s my girl.”

It’s so simple, so innocuous, but the words have you whining and arching your back as you meet back against his quickened thrusts. 

“I know, baby, I know. That feels good, doesn’t it?”

It feels fucking incredible, but your mouth won’t form the words. So, you pull him in for a kiss instead, hot and messy and frantic, tasting of coffee with the barest hint of cinnamon from this morning’s porridge. 

He presses his forehead to yours, and with one moment of adjustment, he’s suddenly hitting a spot that makes you cry out and dig your fingers into his shoulders.

Warmth begins to build in your stomach, that telltale ascent that slowly pulls you taut. Each irregular press against that same pleasurable spot only pushes you further. The shock of his thumb rubbing messy circles into your clit makes you gasp, tears welling up until one slips free and rolls down your cheek.

His movements become more frantic as he moves to lean in close to your ear. “You’re taking me so well, darling.”

“Baby, I can’t—” Your voice cracks as another swipe of his thumb makes your legs shake. “I’m s-so close, please.”

It’s his responding laugh—more a warm, amused hum in your ear—and his low voice murmuring, “It’s okay, you’re okay, I’ve got you, just take what you need,” that nudges you over the edge. Your head drops back against the pillows as you let out a hiccuped sob and squeeze your eyes shut, hips rolling as you chase each wave of pleasure that washes over you. 

Andrew doesn’t stop, instead speeds up to an almost brutal pace as you clench around him. He buries his face into your neck as he comes with a soft moan. You thread your fingers into his hair as he rides it out, reveling in each twitch of his cock as he fills you and whimpers your name.

You stay like that for a moment, both panting as you try to regain your breath. A fine sheen of sweat cools rapidly against your skin as he peels away from you, and you whine at the sudden hollow feeling of him pulling out of you. 

“Stay,” he whispers as though your bones aren’t currently made of jelly, and moving from this bed is the furthest thing from your mind right now. 

Your eyes are closed as he shuffles back into the room. You’re startled by the warmth of a damp washcloth against your thighs as he cleans you up. When you peek at him, Andrew smiles and pulls a blanket over you before wiggling beneath it and settling on his back beside you. 

He immediately opens his arms, an invitation that you easily accept as you roll into him with a content sigh. 

“Are you okay, darling?” he asks as he scratches lightly at your scalp. 

“Mmhm,” you hum.

He huffs a quiet laugh. “I take it you had fun?”

You crack an eye open to peer up and smile at him. “So much fun.”

“Good, good. I’m glad.” A pause. “You know how much I adore you, right?”

Despite the numerous times he’s said so, it still fills you with a giddy, sunny warmth. As you hide your blushing face against his shoulder, he continues, “I love you with every ounce of my heart, and I want to give you the world.”

“Andrew…” You can’t help but giggle, eyelids growing heavy as his warmth seeps into you, as his touch soothes and relaxes you further. “I love you too, you absolute fucking muppet.” 

As you yawn, he tightens his hold on you and whispers into your hair, “Shh, sleep now, darling…you deserve to rest.” Another pause, and then he laughs, “Also, you’re a fucking muppet.”

[minniesmutt]

☾ ━━━━━━ 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐧𝐢𝐚𝐜 𝐨𝐫 𝐯𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞

☾ ━━━ PAIRING: HAN X READER ☾ ━━━ CONTENT: VAMPIRE!HAN, HUMAN!READER, SOMNOPHILIA, CONSENT JEWELRY, IMPLIED FREE USE, UNPROTECTED SEX, NO PREP, SMUT W/ LITTLE PLOT, ☾ ━━━ WC: 1k ☾ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog

     Jisung loved his girlfriend with all his undead heart. He just didn’t like their sleep schedules. His was pretty unavoidable. Yeah, he could walk in the sun, but night was when he was most active. And it’s not like he needed sleep to get his energy back like humans. That’s what blood was for. 

     So while he was up all night doing whatever, his pretty girlfriend was fast asleep. It had started taking a toll on their sex life. He didn’t want to complain much to her. He was centuries old, and he knew humans couldn’t go for hours nor did they often have the drive supernatural beings did. He only said something when she brought it up.

     “Do you know the last time we had sex?” Y/n asked randomly

     “Fifty-four days ago. I don’t know the hour and minutes to but—”

     “Were you counting the days?”

     “Yes…?”

     “And you didn’t bring it up to me at all?”

     “I wanted to after the first week but I didn't want you to think I was that needy.”

     Y/n sighed and walked over to her boyfriend, cupping his cheeks, “Ji, sweetie. I’ve told you my sex drive is high. You can always talk to me if you need me. I didn’t realize how long it had been.”

     “Everytime I want to though your… it’s going to sound dumb.”

     “No it won’t. What is it?” Y/n asked 

     “Everytime i’m in the mood you're always asleep and I don’t want to wake you because I know you need sleep.”

     “Then,” Y/n tried coming up with a solution. She knew it was hard with their occult difference.

     “See. There’s not really —“

     “Just fuck me when im asleep.”

     “Huh?!”

     He couldn’t deny he had thought about it a few times. Just pull back the covers and slip into her. Something about how pretty she looked when she was peacefully sleeping did something to his brain. 

     “Fuck me when—“

     “I heard you the first time, baby. But, are you sure? I don’t want to take advantage of you like that. Because if I fuck you, I’m going to want to bite you.”

     “You always want to bite me.”

     “I always want to fuck you.”

     “You can fuck me whenever you want.”

     “What if you’re not in the mood?”

     “What if we have a code word or something? Something for me to tell you, ‘I’m not in the mood today’ or ‘I’m in the mood today’? Would that help you?”

     “Yes. A lot,”

     The couple sat on the bed and brainstormed some ideas. Searching the internet a bit for ideas as well. Finally the settled on a piece of his jewelry. A necklace, easy floor him to spot since the camper may not always pay attention when he was focused on something and her neck was something his eyes always focused on. 

     He found an old necklace of his he had completely forgotten about. Nice enough that it could go with anything she wore. Y/n took the necklace from him and pecked his lips. She didn’t put the necklace on yet. She waited till she was getting ready for bed. She finished her skin care and clasped the necklace around her neck, making sure it was visible over her sleep shirt. 

     Jisung had zero clue. Forgetting a little about it and focusing on a track he was working on. He got pulled out when she kissed his cheek, “I’m going to bed,” Y/n told him, smiling a bit 

     “Have a good night,” Jisung said as he turned and pecked her lips. He saw the necklace but didn’t think much, again already having forgotten about the conversation a bit. It wasn’t until a few hours later he suddenly remembered. He froze at his computer, Eyes darting to the clock in the corner. Two twenty-nine in the morning. He didn’t know when she said goodnight to him so he didn’t know if she was asleep or not. His eyes needed a break anyways so he got up and walked down the hall to their bedroom. 

     “Baby,” he called a couple of times, no responses. He walked in, double checked and was wearing the necklace, and checked her  pulse. Both her pulse and her breathing were even and slow. She was asleep. 

     His cock sprung up at the thought of acting on things he’d thought about for so long. He walked over and pulled back the covers. He didn’t catch much of what she was wearing to bed at the time but boy was he happy to find his girlfriend in just one of her large t-shirts and nothing else. Making it easy for him. 

     “Fucking hell baby,” Jisung groaned then turned her onto her back. 

     The vampire put her thighs over his easily. He pulled down his shorts and boxers enough to get his dick out. He could see her folds glistening. He really wondered how long she was waiting in anticipation for him. 

     He pressed his tip into her slowly. Watching her to make sure she didn't wake up. Slowly pushing in further when she didn’t wake. He let himself get used to it. Feeling like he could cum from just the thrill of the action alone. He gave himself a minute then pulled back and thrusted into her. 

     His pace started slow. Careful to not wake her up but his pace picked when he realized she was sound asleep. Grabbing her thighs and pushing them up towards her chest. He pushed deeper into her, cock twitching inside her. 

     He tried keeping his voice down. Trying to swallow his groans as best he could. Gripping her thighs tightly as he frantically thrusted in and out of her. The thrill of what he was doing catching up to him and coming out inside her. Filling up her womb and burying himself into her. Grunting as he rode out his high. 

     Jisung took a moment to regain his clarity and pulled out. Amazed she managed to sleep through it. He grabbed a warm washcloth from their bathroom and cleaned her up. Kissing her neck before sinking his fangs into her. Drinking her neck, hands holding hips. 

     He pulled his fangs out of her neck and laid down beside her. Pulling the blanket over them and holding her close. Whispering an ‘I love you’ into the back of her head

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[kurogane2512]

could you please make smut bottom!chameleon fic, kuro? I'm starving😞

Same anon same.... always starving for more Chameleon content 😔

18+ CONTENT

Game: Path to Nowhere

Characters: Chameleon x fem!reader (Chief)

Type: Smut with little plot

Your encounter with Chameleon had been most surprising, and one of the toughest detainments you handled so far. In the end, you reached a mutual agreement with her where you became her 'toy' while she accepted arrest and stayed in the bureau. You thought keeping up with her antics would be a pain, but she was surprisingly cooperative outside of a few incidents. And, what did becoming her 'toy' really mean? Well, you certainly weren't expecting to have to satisfy her in all sorts of ways— even sexually. Initially hesitant to do such things with your Sinner, you realized it was essential for her recovery. Not to mention, you couldn't deny she was beautiful, stunning even.

It was an ordinary day when you were seated in your office, buried in bundles of paperwork. Time quickly ran as you didn’t come out at all, determined to complete things as soon as possible. It didn’t help how you had various meetings scheduled throughout the day that hindered your progress and added more to the never-ending pile. You scratched your head as you dragged your pen across the paper, the simple object feeling heavy in your hands by the continuous usage. A sudden knock on your door was heard but you couldn’t even look up and simply allowed the person to come in.

“You look miserable, Chief~”

A familiar sultry voice spoke and you finally looked up, your eyes widened at the guest.

“Chameleon? Is something the matter?”

Chameleon smiled and closed the door behind her then walked closer to you, standing beside your chair and glancing at the stack of papers on your desk.

“Hard at work as always.... But, you do realize you have been working non-stop since morning today?”

She remarked before leaning against the edge of the desk with her arms folded over her chest. You let out a sigh then went back to focusing on the documents in front of you.

“I have no other choice. If everything is okay then could you leave me alone for now? I really need to complete all this.”

Chameleon’s eyes narrowed at your statement and she sat up on the desk now then leaned near you, tracing her hand over your face.

“Surely you can spare a few moments to assist your dear Sinner?~”

You had no energy nor time to deal with her and felt slightly annoyed at her provocation.

“If you want to toy with me then you’ll have to wait more. I’m afraid I won’t be available tonight.”

You firmly replied while continuing with your work, not even glancing at her tempting figure beside you. Chameleon now placed her hand behind your head and caressed your nape while twirling some of your hair strands in her fingers.

“I can make it quick for you, my dear Chief. You simply have to do as I say~”

You tried to duck your head out of her hold, not liking the intruding presence.

“Please, Chameleon. I really can’t toni-“

Your comms rung before you could complete your words. Glancing at the clock, you suddenly recalled you had a meeting scheduled right now and had to take this call.

“I need to work, Chameleon. Please, don’t disturb me for now.” You tried to insist as politely as possible to make her go away but she seemed hellbent on staying and having her way.

You stood up from your seat and walked away to another corner of the office, hoping to not be disturbed. Chameleon watched you silently, her eyes squinting further as she didn’t like how you kept denying and ignoring her. In truth, she had a slightly different reason to come here tonight. She indeed wanted to use you like always, but she wanted to do it differently than usual. You stood with your back towards her and faced the wall as you talked, she had no interest in the conversation and waited for a few moments until her patience ran thin. She removed her spectacles then leisurely paced towards you, her heels tapping on the floor.

You were lost in the conversation and didn’t hear her movements, nor her presence behind you once she reached up to you. You merely felt her arms wrapping around you then were suddenly pushed forward a few steps and leaned on the wall with one hand as Chameleon embraced you from behind with a rapid force. Her arms looped over your shoulders tightly and her body pressed to yours, her lips grazing your ear as she breathed. You let out a small gasp from the force of being pushed, making the person on the other end of the call question your wellbeing.

“A-Ah, I’m fine. Could you give me a moment?” you spoke on the call and looked at Chameleon over your shoulder with a frown.

“Chameleon, what are you doing?! I told you I-!“ you whispered in a panicked tone while trying to move out of her hold, but her grip only tightened further and she let out a sultry chuckle.

“And you are free to do your work, Chief. Don’t mind me, I’ll just help myself~”

You were about to protest further but the voice in your comms spoke again and you had to focus back, hoping Chameleon wouldn’t do something drastic. However, your worst fears came true. While she remained fairly quiet throughout, her hands and lips didn’t stop moving all over your body. Her lips travelled up and down your neck to plant kisses, occasionally licking up your ear lobe and nibbling it, while her hands were busy trying to undress you but teasingly holding back. Her fingers would graze the buttons of your shirt and pants, and every time you prepared yourself for the outcome but she’d pull away and continue her previous ministrations.

You were desperately holding back from making any strange sounds, biting down on your lower lip whenever she’d lick your ear or bracing against the wall when she’d tease to take off your clothes. This was indeed her just playing with you, making you restless and worked up. But you didn’t expect her to remain so civilized and actually wait for you to get free. Her left hand now dragged across your body and grasped your head then tilted it forward with a gentle push, her fingers then brushed aside your neck and exposed your nape followed by her attaching her lips to your skin, kissing and sucking on some spots.

“Mmh-!” you let out a muffled whine when her teeth closed in on your nape.

“Haah.... Chief....~” she softly moaned in your ear, and you were praying the person on the call couldn’t hear.

“Hm? Are you okay, Chief? You have been sounding rather discomforted for a while.” The caller questioned.

“I-I’m fine! Sorry about that. Could you repeat what you were saying?”

“It’s okay, this is sufficient for now. I will connect with you tomorrow, have a good night.”

The call finally ended. You had barely pressed the button on your comm when Chameleon turned you over to face her and pushed you back to the wall more, now pressing you against it completely.

“Ngh-! Chameleon, what is wrong with you? Why are you acting this way?” you spoke in an annoyed tone. Her response was her usual smirk while her hands dragged down your arms, her fingers tracing your wrist then intertwining your palms together.

“You should know by now how I am, Chief. How is this any different from our usual sessions?~”

Indeed, this was just her way of doing things. But you couldn’t help but notice something was different, though you couldn’t pinpoint what. Chameleon gazed into your eyes and conveyed some kind of burning need, a need you’d rarely seen from her. You really didn’t understand what she wanted here.

“....Just get it done with then, I have lot of work to do.” You gave a rather uninterested answer with your gaze averted.

She squinted her eyes and shockingly let go of your hands then stepped back from you and turned around.

“Hah~ No fun in it if you act this way, Chief. Call me once you are free then~”

She waved her hand before picking up her spectacles from your desk and putting them on. You watched as she walked towards the door and stared in disbelief. You didn’t expect her to give up so easily, you knew you disappointed her. Logically, it was good for you that she gave up. But your mind couldn’t be at ease when you remembered the look on her face and the tone of her voice in the end, you couldn’t see her feeling that way. You gritted your teeth and swiftly walked to her then grabbed her wrist before she could go out.

“Wait, Chameleon.”

She turned around to face you and was about to say something when you pulled her towards yourself and connected your lips together. Her eyes widened for a second but she wasted no time to wrap her arms around your neck and kiss back passionately. Your lips moved feverishly while she pushed you back but you instead pinned her on the edge of your desk. She moaned into the kiss when the desk hit her, her fingers lacing through your hair and clenching the strands to pull you deeper into the kiss. You made space to stand between her legs and she naturally began to lay back on the desk while pulling you down with herself.

“I indeed know how you are, and this isn’t you. Tell me, what’s wrong?” you asked with your lips still ghosting hers, arms wrapped around her waist.

Chameleon heaved in front of you, breathless from the passionate kiss. She smirked as she always does then pulled your body closer with her legs by wrapping them around your waist.

“What makes you say I’m different than usual, Chief?~”

“If you were the same then I’d be undressed by now.”

Her eyes glinted and lips curled up further. You made space on the desk by pushing the files and documents around her out of the way when she suddenly locked her legs around you and made you pin her on top of the desk. You gazed into her eyes and suddenly felt a strange connection with her and heard some words in your mind.

“Take me, Chief.... Just fuck me already....~”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing in your mind. It was clearly Chameleon’s voice yet her actions betrayed her thoughts, you couldn’t even tell if she truly spoke in your mind or the shackles somehow conveyed her hidden desires to you. Nevertheless, you finally understood why she was acting strangely. It surprised you that she had side a like this, the self-proclaimed psychopath who loved toying with you was asking you to take the reins for once. You let out a chuckle which made her confused and she cupped your face then sat up slightly to press her lips to your cheek.

“What’s so hilarious, Chief? Does having me in this position amuse you?~”

“A little.... But, that’s not the case. You know, it’s quite ironic how you cannot be honest about your feelings despite being a psychologist~”

She raised an eyebrow, “Oh? Care to give me some lessons then, Chief? You know how I’m more of a practical learner, don’t you?~”

You smirked, “Well....” you then pushed her down by her shoulders and laid her flat on the desk, “....Your body is indeed far more honest than your words~”

You then leaned down to kiss her neck, planting open-mouthed kisses across her skin while your hands grasped her clothed breasts. Chameleon sighed and removed her spectacles then kept them far away as possible before grabbing onto your head, tightly intertwining her fingers in your hair and pushing your face deeper. You soon pulled down her dress and unhooked her bra to expose her breasts and kneaded them in your palms, pulling and squeezing the soft mounds. Your lips travelled down to the valley of her breasts then attached to her right nipple, wrapping around the nub and swirling your tongue over it.

Your other hand continued playing with her left breast, pinching her erect nipple while you sucked the right one. Chameleon’s body heaved up into you, filling more of your mouth with her breast as you continued sucking them desperately, your teeth lightly grazing the flesh. She sighed more and started grinding her core against you, simply rubbing across any part she could feel- which happened to be your abdomen. You could feel the wetness on her core as she grinded herself and moved your right hand down to caress her underwear, feeling her slick seep through.

“So wet.... you never become this way unless I have cum twice already. What’s got you so needy today, Chameleon?~”

It was a half rhetoric and half serious question; you were amused at her state but at the same time genuinely wondering why she was being this way.

“Oh, aren’t you glad to see me this way, Chief? You always complain about me going first and draining you out. I thought I should let you have the chance first for once~”

You didn’t know how truthful this was, but something told you this wasn’t the real reason. Still, you decided to not pursue the question further and instead make the most of the opportunity.

You rubbed your fingers across her clothed folds, moving her slick along and coating it all over while still sucking her breast. Her legs wrapped around you more and held you tightly, her hips grinding again to rub across you. You were about to slip your hand past her underwear when she suddenly pulled your face up and passionately kissed you then bit your lower lip.

“Why don’t you start with ‘that’ already if I’m so wet as you say, dear Chief?~”

You looked at her with a puzzled expression as you didn’t understand right away what she meant, she simply smirked and lowered her gaze towards your crotch. You followed her eyes and looked at the way your legs were intertwined with hers, cores grazing over the clothes and how her hips were leisurely rutting back n forth. You then quickly pieced together what she meant and felt flustered at her directness but agreed and proceeded to fetch the toy from the lowermost drawer of the desk.

Chameleon stood up from the table and waited patiently, watching you look through the things until finally taking out the toy and fastening it around yourself. Just when you finished buckling it, she turned over and leaned forward slightly on the table. You blushed looking at her tempting form, back arched and hips on display inviting you to do whatever you wanted. Chameleon looked at you over her shoulder with a smirk, eyeing you to begin.

Remembering her words in your mind, you went forward with confidence and gently grasped her hips. You kneaded the bouncy flesh and dragged your hands up then suddenly applied some force and pushed her down further, arching her back more and pressing her face to the desk. She let out a breathy moan followed by a chuckle at your action, grinding her hips over the toy now.

Sounds of clothes ruffling was heard next as you flipped up her dress followed by bringing down her leggings and panties together. A string of slick stuck to her panties as you pulled them down, subconsciously fuelling your desire to make her see stars.

“Doesn’t seem like lube is needed.... but is it really okay?” you debated in your mind while pulling apart her folds with your fingers and aiming the length towards them.

“Just do it, Chief.... take me....~” the same voice spoke in your head again and you looked over at Chameleon who was still lying on the desk the same manner, face tilted down.

Without wasting anymore time, you proceeded to drag the head of the toy over her drenched folds. Her hands clenched the edges of the table as the cock slowly made its way inside her, followed by a startled moan leaving her lips as you suddenly pushed it all the way inside. Your hips snapped forward at precise angles and a controlled pace, her body arching with a pleasured sigh every time you came in. Her mushy walls accommodated you quickly, already used to the toy due to prolonged use. Indeed, you had done her this way before, but the experience this time was significantly different.

Your hands grabbed her waist while you spread apart her legs further and stepped closer, pushing the cock even deeper and burying it to the hilt. Chameleon let out breathy moans as your hips pounded into her, sounds of skin slapping accompanying her voice. You could feel her walls tightening around the cock with how hard it became to move, making you thrust faster with more vigour. The sight of her lying on the table this way was arousing beyond belief, and you couldn’t help but lean down on her back and embrace her.

“You look beautiful.... aah... tell me what you want...” you whispered near her ear, resting your face on her shoulder and continuing to drive your hips in and out.

Chameleon’s eyes hooded at the unexpected affectionate action and she struggled to form a reply. You pushed aside her luscious hair and planted kisses on her exposed shoulder before panting near from the constant movement of your hips. Still, you were determined to satisfy her and kept going, maintaining the speed while grinding the cock inside to hit all of her sensitive spots. Her arms fumbled around as she struggled to grab something other than the edge; watching her flail this way was strangely adorable.

You smiled to yourself and brought your right arm forward to hold hers and laced your fingers from the top then pressed it down with a gentle force. Chameleon bit her lower lip to conceal her voice, her eyes fixated on the sight of your hand holding hers so intimately. Her true reason to come there and disturb you was petty; all she wanted was some relief. She simply wanted you to indulge her a little with her teasing, but what she got right now was more than enough, and unexpected.

“M-More.... Chief.... harder~”

Her voice spoke in your mind once again, seemingly mouthing her desires. You wanted her to say it out loud since you loved hearing her sweet voice, but perhaps you’d have to work a little harder for that. You paused for a moment to lean up, planting your hands flat on the table beside her to stabilize yourself. A loud and throaty whine was pushed from her lips the moment you thrusted inside again, hitting her deepest spots with just the right force. You then set a harsher pace than before, snapping your hips harder and faster just the way she wanted.

The table creaked from your pace, her ass jiggling every time your pelvis slapped against it and her body writhed beneath you. Her slick flowed down her thighs like a leaking tap which only made it easier for you to move. The cock produced squelching sounds as it drilled into her and drew out her essence, edging her closer to release. You gazed at her lying motionless underneath, completely giving her body to you and you made sure she wouldn’t regret that.

“Haah.... Chameleon.... this is what you wanted, didn’t you....?~”

This time, you spoke in her mind as well. Her eyes suddenly widened at the unexpected intrusion in her mind, but she simply smiled and started pushing back her hips into you.

“Y-You know it, Chief... aaahn... don’t hold back.... mmh- just fuck me~”

You buried your face in her shoulder as you pounded faster, knowing she was close to release. Her eyes rolled to the back as you hit a new spot, making her moan out loud unexpectedly. Oh, how delightful the sound was. You could get lost just listening to her voice.

“Faster, Chief.... I’m close.... yes.... that’s it....! More... give me more!~”

She chanted in your mind as if in a lovestruck daze. You stood back up completely and swiftly grabbed her right thigh to hold it up slightly, pressing your pelvis to her completely and pounding deep inside. She whimpered as you hammered at her sensitive spots then finally released with a strained moan, biting her lip and pressing her face to the table. You stayed in place as she came, keeping the toy buried inside and drawing out her release before gently pulling out, watching her essence pool around the length and down her thighs.

Chameleon panted out satisfactorily and was about to say something when you grabbed her legs and suddenly flipped her over, making her lie on her back as you wrapped her legs around your waist and rubbed the cock over her slit. She exclaimed in surprise at the change of position, not expecting you to do such a bold action right away. Yet, she didn’t counter in any form and locked her legs tighter, needily waiting for you to come back inside. The cock slipped back easily and the pleasured feeling of being stuffed returned, her body arching with a moan.

You then set a constant fast pace again, snapping your hips forward and drilling into her heat. She practically bounced off the table now, simply laying back and enjoying the sensations. You stepped closer and pushed deeper, pinning your hands on either side of her head and pounding away. She gazed into your eyes this way, communicating an unspeakable need which she was glad you understood. She then dragged her hands over your body and started unbuttoning your shirt, quickly removing it followed by attempting to take off your pullover too but you stopped her.

Chameleon was about to sit up when your comms device vibrated in your ear, making you halt your movements and deprive her. You looked at the clock then at your tablet to see the caller and realized it was already time for your next meeting, followed by remembering you had yet to complete lot of the paperwork as well, some of which was required for this meeting.

“S-Sorry, give me a minute, Chameleon....”

You said through gritted teeth and pulled out of her before answering the call. You took a few steps back to catch your breath and started conversing in a formal manner, saying unnecessary pleasantries and talking of business. Chameleon had no interest in the conversation; she once again felt envious that you weren’t paying attention to her, despite the fact that you literally gave up on your work halfway to please her....

She waited and waited as you talked more, even bringing out a notepad and writing down some points. Although, watching you talk professionally while wearing a strap and clothes half removed was amusing in itself. Her patience was over soon after and she decided to take action. She stepped down and walked towards you and grabbed the toy length. You became confused at her action and tried to tell her to wait more, but she was having none of it.

She wrapped her arms around your neck and dragged one leg over your waist then slipped the cock inside herself. Your arms automatically rushed to hold her when you felt her weight on the toy, a smirk adorning her lips knowing she had your attention again. You mouthed her to not go further but she ignored all your silent pleas and started grinding back n forth on the cock while clenching onto you. Her lips ghosted yours and low sighs left her mouth which you desperately tried to mask away from the comm device.

“Chief? Is everything alright?” the caller questioned.

“Y-Yes, sorry for interrupting. Please continue....!” you said in a panicked voice.

Chameleon smirked further watching you struggle, moving her hips faster now. You gritted your teeth again then held her tighter and swiftly moved back to pin her on the table again, locking her legs around you like before and thrusting deep inside. You feared she’d moan out loud from the action but she concealed her voice by biting down on your shoulder, simply letting out a muffled groan. Her hands clenched your back more, nails digging in the fabric to grab your shirt as her hips rutted on the toy.

“Ngh.... y-yes I understand.... n-noted....” you answered the call as professionally as possible.

Chameleon simply smirked at the situation, feeling victorious at having you this way. She knew you wouldn’t just throw away your dignity and spoil the meeting by fucking her senseless right now, but she could certainly have her fun toying with you. She slyly let out sighs of pleasure near your ear as she moved, ensuring to not be too loud but also stimulate you enough. You shivered every time her breath brushed past your ear, letting her do as she pleased. Sometime later, you felt her pace slow down and realized she may have gotten tired of moving- which got proved soon after.

“Why did you stop, Chief? I believe you are capable enough to handle both things right now~” her voice came in your mind and provoked you.

You eyed her with a frown, feeling helpless and annoyed at her actions but eager to fuck her at the same time. Pushing her thighs apart more, you slotted yourself closer and made a harsh thrust deep inside her. She arched with a throaty moan and tilted back, hands still gripping around your neck.

“What was that, Chief? Is someone with you?” the caller questioned hearing her voice.

“N-No, I’m just in the activity area and some Sinners are playing around....!”

Chameleon chuckled at your excuse, making you smile back as well. You held yourself against the table and started doing slow and deep thrusts into her. The pace was much slower than before, but you ensured to drag the length out and graze her walls then push inside with a hard thrust, hitting her sensitive spots. She bit down on your shoulder again and let out muffled cries every time your hips snapped forward, relishing the slow and hard sensation. The pace continued for a while until you started pounding away like a wild animal, her body falling back on the table.

“You are unbelievable, Chameleon.... f-fuck.... would you have taken responsibility if we got caught?~”

Chameleon chuckled and dragged her hands down your chest, “If you want me to....mmh... I could easily make them forget they ever heard anything~”

You sighed in defeat, knowing well this was exactly how she was. She then pulled you down and pressed her lips to yours as you kept thrusting, moaning into your mouth. You snapped your hips a few more times and finally made her release, her head throwing back with a loud moan as she clenched around the cock. You panted in each other’s embrace, her hands gently caressing your head in satisfaction.

“So, are you going to admit you just wanted to be fucked?~” you teased, earning a smirk from her.

“Hmm, whatever are you talking about, Chief? Wasn’t it you who pulled me in because you wanted to de-stress?~”

You sighed and didn’t argue further, knowing she wouldn’t admit so easily. You pulled out the toy and cleaned up things while she dressed herself and proceeded to leave.

“From next time, just say your real feelings, Chameleon. I won’t ever ignore you, but give me time to respond.” Your voice spoke in her mind as she walked out.

She stopped for a moment at the unexpected words then smiled to herself and glanced back, only to see you working as if nothing happened.

“I will keep that in mind, my dear Chief~”

[veryinnovative]

@jegulus-microfic | january 3, prompt: ruthless | word count: 1.422 featuring pornstars jegulus! NSFW

“They’re going off-script, why are they going off-script?” Barty grits out, confined to the sidelines since he’s part of the camera crew and not the main act, one hand firmly gripping the tripod’s handle as the other waves the booklet in front of Evan’s face.

Because Regulus is sprawled out on the bed on his back, his harness and strap-on discarded on the floor, purple rubber still glistening from where it had been seven inches deep inside James moments prior. His thighs are spread wide by the broad palms and pinned to the mattress as his set partner crawls between them, face still flush from exertion and hair in total disarray as a result of Regulus’ constant pulling and shoving.

The position is not a total mystery, no. Regulus had been in the industry for over a year now, a short span of time during which he had climbed the rank listings and breached the top ten, now striving after the top five together with James Potter, arrogantly self-proclaimed oral king by the looks of it, always needing something in his mouth to satisfy him or shut him up, take your pick. The entire set had been arranged by both their managers, going off on tangents about how they have impeccable chemistry on-screen (combined with Regulus’ superb acting abilities). It’s their second time shooting a video together, considering how their first had broken the record just three weeks ago, and neither Pandora nor Lily had wasted a second to get them together in a room again.

“What are you doing?” Regulus hisses as James’ mouth works a burning trail down his chest, tongue laving over the latticework of bruises and the lovebites blooming. He tries very hard not to lean into it, wards off the urge to chase after the hot cavern the ventures dangerously low.

“Going down on you,” James whispers into his stomach, quiet enough for the microphones not to pick up. Even if they did, it could be edited out afterward. 

“I was supposed to go down on you, remember?” Regulus retorts, mentally convincing himself he’s only keeping his legs open for the camera. It’s not like he’s been wondering if James’ mouth is the real deal as many others have made it out to be. Not at all.

“I already came and you didn’t, so I’m just returning the favor before we move on,” James mumbles into his thighs, masking the speaking movements of his mouth by kissing the skin.

“You’re wasting your energy.” Then, the little light of Dorcas’ camera across them flickers, indicating it’s Regulus they’re focusing on. He makes a show of letting out a pleased sigh, craning his neck, and throwing back his head so his face can’t be recorded. It allows him to talk. “I don’t feel like cumming, so just let me do my job. Besides, I doubt you could get me off like this anyway.”

Blatant fucking lie. James undoubtedly notices because he stifles a snort into his leg.

“Sure thing, love.”

Regulus’ jaw ticks and he winds his fingers into James’ hair, reprimand ready on the tip of his tongue, dying off into a choked gasp when the flat of a thick, broad tongue runs a long stripe through his folds.

And the thing is, it’s not just his mouth. Because James’ hands wander, alternating between gripping his hips and roaming upwards to flick his nipples, taking them between his forefinger and thumb to stimulate—rub, pull, gently squeeze all the while his tongue dips in and out of him, gathering the wetness there, swallowing it, moaning at the taste, stopping and only letting the hotness of his breath ghost over Regulus’ dripping core. Building anticipation. Teasing. Lips slick and just as swollen as he is, spreading him open wider just so the camera can get a clear-cut image of how James leans in again, thumb pulling up the hood, mouth this time aimed at Regulus’ cock.

James’ tongue is ruthless.

Licking, sucking, humming around Regulus and sending the vibrations roiling through his spine, static shooting into his skull, paralyzing the rest of him. Using his nose for friction if it’s his tongue that’s too occupied fucking in and out of him, thumbs eagerly pressed into the divots of his hips.

“Jesus fucking Chr—” The words pathetically drop in pitch, bleeding into a low whine as Regulus’ hips buck, James’ mouth only following the undulations. He swirls his tongue, pulls him into his mouth, and sucks until the wet, sloppy sounds of his mouth no longer rise above the ringing flooding Regulus’ ears. He moans, fingers pulling onto the thick curls until it leaves James whining between his legs as well. “Oh, fuck.”

“Oh, fuck, indeed,” Barty whispers from to the side. “Holy shit, he’s making it look so real.”

“Am I about to tell you something,” Evan mutters, adjusting the sound settings.

Regulus arches off the bed, writhing in place against the steel hold on his hips, the balls of his feet digging painfully deep into James’ back when he feels the pressure building low in his stomach, pleasure pooling low below his spine. 

“I’m not going to cum,” Regulus gasps out, not giving a fuck how loud it comes out. Between his clenched thighs, James chuckles, its rumbling reverberating through each and every one of his nerves as he pulls off his cock with a wet pop.

“Yes, you will,” James answers, kissing his cock before biting into his thigh. “Because I’m going to make you.”

The mouth leaving him punches a little, pitiful sound of protest out of Regulus, one he will most certainly deny and demand be edited out. Though, right now, he’s too strung out to care. Regulus’ eyes droop down, watching how James leaves the little space between his legs, strings of spit and wetness breaking off into the air as he crawls up onto his knees.  

Everything moves rather swiftly afterward. The excited noise filling the room might have either been his or Barty’s, but none of it matters when James grabs Regulus by the back of his knees and pins them down, nearly folding him in half before he continues his mouth’s assault, urging the tightening knot low in his abdomen to unravel.

There’s the tongue inside of him, on him, in him, around him—circling, pulling, teasing, drawing out the most guttural of moans when he feels the graze of teeth. The entirety of Regulus swallowed by James’ mouth, consumed with the sort of deprivation only the taste of him can alleviate if the desperate sucking is anything to go by. Regulus’ legs shake, body twitching in place, fingers curled so tightly around handfuls of curls when he chokes out a weak, “I’m not—I’m not going to—”

James groans a muffled command, fingers digging deep into his thighs, the splay of stray strands across his stomach, muscles pulled taut, the fluorescent lightning above, that stupid fucking tongue, the sole bane of his existence—

Regulus cries out a soundless rasp, like his voice has left him together with his soul, entire body convulsing, head thrown back on the arrangement of pillows as his eyes roll back into their sockets. 

Worst of all, James doesn’t stop, only grunts in response as Regulus gushes over his tongue, making a dangerous sound stuck low in his throat when the hand on his head tries to push him away.

“Stop,” Regulus squeaks out. Squeaks, because that’s how terribly low he’s fallen. The overstimulation is a lot, pleasure overwhelming like his brain is threatening to come oozing out of his ears, and next thing you know the video will be titled ‘James Potter managed to make exalted Regulus Black cry with his orgasm’. 

“Please, please s’too much—” Regulus tries again, almost sobbing out a breath of relief when James does finally lift his head with a gasp, his entire fucking face slick from where it had been buried inside Regulus.

“Fucking hell,” Barty hisses in the back, vocalizing Regulus’ internal monologue. “Cut! Fucking, cut the cameras! Pause! Water! Bring this fucker some water before he passes out—”

A flurry of movement in the background, the noises fading into white noise as Regulus’ legs are lowered back onto the bed. James hovers above him, the spit-slick grin almost blinding, or that’s just the stars blinking in Regulus’ vision.

“You were saying?” James asks, teasingly touching Regulus’ puffy cock, laughing when it rewards him with a full-body shudder.

Regulus weakly wacks him in the chest. “Go fuck… Yourself.”