#i actually just want to rest in peace for once

[tortillamastersblog]

Back To You - Part 16 | Sam Carpenter

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x reader

Warnings: mentions of violence, death, blood, injuries, and swearing

Summary: When Sam left after turning eighteen, you were devastated. You’d been in love with her since you were kids and her leaving meant you never got to tell her how you truly felt.

Fast forward a couple of years, Tara gets attacked and Sam returns. . .

A/N: Fair warning there might be a couple of typos and shit in this part because I’m too tired to proofread properly

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The door of the theater falls shut behind us with a loud bang and I can’t stop myself from flinching ever so slightly.

Sam squeezes my hand and I squeeze back, letting my eyes roam around the room.

Nothing’s changed since the last time we were here and I cringe once again at the sight of the mannequins on the stage dressed in the old Ghostface cloaks.

It’s eerily quiet, but the knowledge that backup is ready to jump in and help us when Kirby gives them a signal brings me some sense of peace.

When Sam and I came out of the bathroom earlier Bailey had left to go to the station which gave me the chance to pull Kirby aside and tell her about what we figured out while Sam distracted the others, especially Ethan who kept looking at me with his big doe eyes.

She believed me instantly and we quickly came to the conclusion that in order to end this we either have to kill Bailey, Quinn, and Ethan, or get a confession out of them, so they go to prison for the rest of their lives.

I opted for the latter because I’m sick of people dying, but we agreed that should anything go wrong, we will kill them.

We also agreed that the less people are involved the better, so Kirby called the hospital Anika is at and convinced them to call Mindy in Anika’s name, saying she wanted to see her girlfriend.

We tried to come up with a plan to get Chad out of the way as well, but nothing came to mind, which is why he’s here with us now.

Danny’s also here, but we left him outside under the guise of needing someone to call for help in case something goes wrong.

He doesn’t know that the FBI is already stationed nearby, waiting to be called in by Kirby.

Sam, Kirby, and I are the only ones who know and even though I wanted to tell Tara and Chad, I never got the chance because we were never alone.

At first, Danny and Ethan were with us, and then it was just Danny because I managed to prevent Ethan from getting on the same subway as us by shoving a stranger in his way.

I’m sure he’ll be here soon though, just like Bailey who’s in on the “plan”.

We told him we wanted to trap Ghostface and execute him which he immediately agreed to since he doesn’t know we know about him yet.

He was super supportive and even told us to use public transport to avoid getting targeted, and if I didn’t know better I would have actually believed that he was concerned.

I still don’t know why he, Quinn, and Ethan are doing all this, but I guess we’ll find out sooner.

“I cleared the whole place before you got here,” Kirby says, turning to face us. “This—“ she nods her head at the door we just came in through, “—is the only way in or out.”

“What about weapons?” Sam asks, her hand still in mine.

Tara is holding onto Chad’s arm, nodding along to what Sam just asked.

“One gun and I hold onto it,” Kirby lies. She slipped me a knife earlier when I told her about what we found out.

It’s tucked into the waistband of my pants, hidden by my sweater, and not even Sam knows about it.

I know right now would probably be a good time to come clean and tell Chad and Tara everything we know (and tell Sam about the knife), but we can’t be sure that this place isn’t bugged.

“I’m the only one with a badge, so that’s the way it’s going to be,” Kirby says when the others look at her in disbelief. “We’re safe here,” she adds and even though I know the FBI is on standby outside, I’m still not entirely convinced. There’s three Ghostfaces and four of us, and they’re all armed.

This is going to be fun. . .

I wish we’d had more time to plan, because this is all super reckless, but we can’t risk someone else getting hurt, so it will have to do.

The others look skeptical, too, but no one voices their concerns and a moment later Sam’s phone rings. She disconnects our hands and pulls it out of her pocket, her eyebrows furrowing when she sees that it’s Mindy who’s calling her.

She glances at me and I dip my chin, wordlessly telling her to answer it.

“Mindy? Hey, you okay?” she says. She walks off in search of better reception and I let her be, turning to Chad and Tara who are eyeing the glass display cases with disgust while Kirby makes her own way through the theater, looking at everything with her lips pressed into a thin line.

“Sprout. . . Chad,” I say quietly, approaching them. They turn with furrowed eyebrows and smile weakly when they see me.

“Y/N.” Chad exhales sharply and I squeeze his arm reassuringly.

“You guys okay?” I ask.

Tara shakes her head and hugs me while Chad grimaces. “Not really,” she whispers. “I’m scared.”

I sigh and hold her closer. “Yeah, me too.”

“Same. . .” Chad watches us with a forlorn look and I chuckle softly before pulling him into the hug as well.

“You’ll be okay. Both of you, I promise.” I press a kiss to the top of Tara’s head and nudge Chad.

They both shudder and tighten the hug before my phone rings and I’m forced to pull away.

Dread settles in the pit of my stomach as I pull it out of my pocket, but then the sight of Paige’s name flashing across the screen makes me relax again.

It’s not Ghostface, Y/N. Calm down.

“Paige, hey. Everything okay? Are you in the city yet?”

Despite the situation, Paige laughs softly. “Yes, everything’s fine. I’m not in the city yet, I still have two hours to go. I’m just calling to tell you that the hospital called.”

The tentative smile that pulled at my lips just a second ago vanishes and I tighten my grip on the phone. “A-and?”

“Lee’s still in surgery, but he’s stable.”

Tears prick at my eyes and I spin around to avoid Tara’s and Chad’s concerned looks. “Okay, that’s good. That’s really good.”

I swallow thickly to get rid of the growing lump in my throat and Paige sighs on the other end of the line.

“Yeah, it is. . . so what about you? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, but—“

The lights turn off and the call disconnects. A scream pierces through the silent theater and I whirl around.

Tara.

She and Chad seem to be unharmed, but they’re tripping over their feet, trying to get away from something, of rather, someone.

It’s hard to make out what’s happening in the dark, but even before a homemade Stab movie gets projected onto the white curtains that have been lowered in front of the stage, I know that Ghostface is here.

Baile, Ethan and Quinn are here, right now, and we didn’t see it coming.

How didn’t we know? There’s only one entrance and we would have heard them come in. Right?

But what if Kirby overlooked a different entrance? What if she didn’t search the place probably?

Speaking of Kirby, my blood runs cold when my eyes land on her. Her face is covered in blood, and it looks like her nose is broken, but what’s more important is the blood on her shirt from a stab wound in her stomach and the knife pressed against her neck by Ghostface, standing behind her.

Ethan or Quinn. . . Bailey is taller.

“Fuck.” I rush to pull Tara and Chad behind me, feeling anger rising in the pit of my stomach when Ghostface tilts his head mockingly.

This is not how this was supposed to go down. Kirby was supposed to stay hidden, she was supposed to observe and call for backup.

Movement out of the corner of my eye makes my heart skip a beat, but when I turn my head, there’s nothing there.

A second later though I feel a presence on my other side, and I whirl around, expecting another Ghostface, but it’s just Sam, wide-eyed and panting.

“They’re here,” she breathes, “They’re—“ she freezes when her eyes land on Kirby, “—Fuck.”

She grabs my arm, and together we shield Chad and Tara while Ghostface continues to watch us wordlessly.

Kirby is deathly still in his hold, despite the obvious pain she’s in because she knows that if she even attempts to reach for her gun or her radio, her throat will be slit.

Some blood is already trickling down her throat because of how hard Ghostface is pressing the knife against her skin, and I shiver, remembering how I was in that same position a year ago.

Every breath, every blink could be your last one, and it’s a horrifying experience.

This is definitely not how I thought this would go. Was I skeptical of our half-assed planned? Yes. Was I expecting it to go off the rails at some point? Also, yes, but I didn’t think shit would be hitting the fan this quickly.

Well, there’s no point in keeping my mouth shut any longer.

“Let her go, Ethan. She has nothing to do with this,” I say lowly. I know it’s him because Quinn is even shorter than her brother and she probably wouldn’t have had the strength to overwhelm Kirby.

Ghostface falters ever so slightly, obviously surprised that I know who’s under the mask, but he doesn’t move or say anything.

“What are you doing?” Tara hisses, tugging on the back of my sweater. “That’s not Ethan.”

Sam squeezes my arm, and I glance over my shoulder for a split second to meet Tara’s eyes. “Yes it is,” I say, forcing myself to sound calm. “He’s behind all of this with Quinn and Bailey.”

“What?” Chad lets out a surprised gasp.

Someone starts clapping slowly behind us and we all whirl around to see Bailey standing there next to another Ghostface.

He’s smiling menacingly and claps one more time before exhaling dramatically. “I knew you’d figure it out. I mean, the way you looked at me at the police station after the bodega. . . I knew you knew something was up.”

I narrow my eyes, but stay quiet.

There’s no way to get a confession out of all of them now, at least not one we can use against them in court because Kirby was supposed to record everything, so we’re moving on to plan b.

Kill them. Kill all of them. Make them pay for what they’ve done to Liam, Gale, Anika, and Brooks, and for how they tired to frame Sam for what happened im Woodsboro.

“Also, Ethan saw you talking to Kirby, so I knew we had to do something sooner rather than later to make you pay.”

“Make us pay?” Sam asks indignantly. “For what?!”

The homemade Stab movie still playing in the background flickers eerily, casting weird shadows over everyone’s face, but especially Bailey’s when it tightens in anger.

He pulls out his gun and waves it around. “For killing my son!”

“Your son?” Tara snaps over my shoulder.

“Yeah, he’s right there.” I gesture at the Ghostface still pressing a knife to Kirby’s neck.

Bailey snorts and the Ghostface next to him takes off his mask.

Quinn.

I knew it, and so did Sam, but Chad and Tara suck in a breath behind me.

Ethan takes off his mask as well, somehow managing to do it without letting go of Kirby.

“Not him!” Quinn snaps with wild eyes before pointing her knife at Sam. “You killed—“

The curly hair, the thick eyebrows. . . E.K. Ethan Kirsch.

“Richie. . .” I say through clenched teeth.

Sam’s hand around my upper arm tightens. “You’re Richie’s family?!”

Tara and Chad shift uncomfortably, but they don’t say a word.

Of course they’re Richie’s family. How did I not see that coming?

They want revenge for what Sam did to him and they started it all by spreading rumors about her online, so when they kill her, kill us, people will just suspect some rando who took matters into his own hands after he found out Sam was the “real” Ghostface.

How fucked up is that. . .

I glance at Kirby while Bailey, Ethan, and Quinn catch the others up on what I just figured out, and nod subtly when her fingers graze against the pocket of her leather jacket.

The radio. . . We need to call for backup. We need to get out of here.

There has to be a second exit we don’t know about because how else would Bailey, Ethan, and Quinn have gotten into the theater unnoticed.

My call with page was disconnected, probably because Bailey turned on some kind of signal jammer, which could mean the radio is also useless, but getting my hands on it and trying to call for back up is worth a try anyway.

I mean, don’t radios and cell phones operate on different frequencies?

All thoughts of frequencies are quickly forgotten when Bailey steps forward and holds out a weathered Ghostface mask.

“This is your father’s, Sam,” he says. “Quinn’s got Stu Macher’s and Ethan has Nacy Loomis’s, your grandmother’s. . .”

“It really runs in your fucking family, doesn’t it,” Ethan pipes up, and the way Sam’s breath hitches next to me makes me want to bash his head in.

This is exactly what she’s afraid of, being like them, and I just know it’s going to take a lot of therapy and a lot of pep talks to make her, once again, believe she really isn’t anything like them

Tara sniffles quietly, and I reach behind me to squeeze her hand when she holds onto the hem of my sweater.

“This is what we’ve been counting down to,” Bailey says, waving the mask around with the same crazy look in his eyes as Quinn. “I’m going to need you to put it on.”

Oh, hell no.

Sam breathes heavily, and for a split second I think she’s going to take it—she’s going to give them what they want after all, but then she lets go of my arm and smacks the mask out of Bailey’s hand.

“Fuck you!” she spits and her confidence fills me with so much pride that I don’t react fast enough when Quinn lunges forward, slicing Sam’s exposed upper arm with her knife.

She was wearing my zip up hoodie earlier, but it’s so hot in here she must have taken it off while on the phone with Mindy, leaving her in only her gray tank top.

Shit, Mindy. . . Why was she calling in the first place? Is she okay?

There’s no way to find out now, so I quickly pull Sam back against me, out of reach of Quinn while she presses a hand to the cut on her arm.

It’s only superficial, but it’s already bleeding pretty badly and it will definitely need stitches.

“Stay the fuck away from her,” Tara shouts, trying to step out from behind me, but Chad holds her back with an arm around her waist.

“You’re a killer, just like your father, Sam,” Bailey says, pointing an accusing finger at Sam and this time, unlike when Ethan opened his stupid mouth, I don’t hold back.

“No, she’s not you!” I snap, baring my teeth. With her free hand, Sam squeezes my arm around her middle, either to silently thank me for standing up for her or to get me to settle down.

“Yes, she is you motherfucker!” Quinn screams. “She killed Richie like the cold-blooded psycho that she is!”

That’s it!

I let go of Sam and rush forward to tackle Quinn, but Ethan is quick to react. He shoves Kirby aside and jumps in my way before I can get to his sister, stabbing me in the shoulder right below my collar bone—right below the scar on my neck where Amber stabbed me.

“Ah, you fucking little twig,” I exclaim, squaring my shoulders, ready to take him down instead when Sam pulls me back by the back of my sweater.

“No, run!” she shouts and I spin around, knowing she’s right.

Tara and Chad are already weaving through the glass cases, trying to get to the metal door we came in through and Sam and I follow them.

Quinn and Ethan are hot on our heels while Bailey shouts how he knew Sam had to die when he saw the pictures of what she did to Richie.

Everyone who had something to do with his death dies. . . Yeah, no thanks.

Amidst the chaos, the fact that we don’t have the key card to unlock the door dawns on me the moment we’re standing in front of it. Chad tries to pry it open, but it doesn’t budge and when Quinn and Ethan’s footsteps get louder behind us I exclaim, “Forget about it. We’re not getting out this way! There has to be another exit!”

“The roof!” Tara says. “I saw an exit sign leading to the roof behind the seats on the balcony overlooking the stage.”

The roof? Seriously? We’ll be trapped there, too, unless there’s a fire escape.

Anything’s better than this though, I think as Ethan and Quinn skirt around the corner.

“Okay, go left! There’s a staircase up to the balcony!” I shout and we start running again, abandoning the metal door, which could possibly still be our only way out.

Somewhere in the theater a shot gets fired, and I pray to God that Kirby is okay, but I don’t have time to dwell on it as we get to the staircase.

I yank on Sam’s arm and pull her in front of me, and usher her to follow Chad and Tara, but she stops when she notices me freezing on the bottom step.

“What are you doing? Come on!” Urgency seeps into her voice and she tries to drag me up the stairs, but I don’t move.

“No, get to the roof and get help, I’ll buy you some time,” I say, pulling out the knife Kirby gave me.

If Quinn and Ethan want to get to the others, they’ll have to go through me first.

Sam’s eyes widen when they land on the gleaming blade and she shakes her head adamantly. “Fuck no! I’ve left you behind twice now, I’m not doing it again!”

“Sam— I—“ I want to protest, but then Quinn appears with a lazy smile, dragging the blade of her knife along the wall, seemingly in no hurry to get to us any more.

No, no, no. Why’s she so calm. What’s going on?! Where’s Ethan?!

“Y/N!” Sam urges, which snaps me out of my thoughts.

Right. We’ve got to move, no matter how slow Quinn is walking, she’s going to get to us eventually if we don’t move.

“Shit. Yeah, okay! Go, go, go!” I follow Sam up the stairs, taking two of them at a time with my heart pounding in my ears until we get to the top.

Oh damn, we’re higher up than I expected.

It’s at least a ten foot drop from the balcony to the main floor of the theater, but that’s not what I’m worried about.

No, what I’m worried about is Ethan, who’s blocking our path to the roof because he somehow managed to climb the scaffolding connecting the balcony and the main floor to our right.

Tara and Chad are rooted to the ground, staring at him while he simply waves his knife mockingly.

“You really thought you guys could get away?” He laughs and I grab Sam’s hand and spin us around when I hear Quinn coming up the stairs behind us. “Yeah, no. You’re all going to die here tonight and pay for what you did to Richie.”

Tara whimpers and she and Chad take several steps back until their backs are pressed against Sam’s and mine.

The weight of Kirby’s knife in my hand, the one that isn’t holding Sam’s, does nothing to ground me.

We’re caged in and there’s nothing I can do without risking getting hurt because both Ethan and Quinn also have a knife.

“Richie deserved everything he got!” Sam spits next to me. “He was pathetic and killed innocent people just so he could make a new Stab movie! A fucking movie!”

“He loved those movies!” Quinn exclaims angrily and I can’t help but scowl at her.

“That doesn’t excuse what he did! How deluded are you to think that it’s okay to kill people just so you can make a movie?!”

“Shut up!” Ethan shouts and even though I can’t see him, I know he’s absolutely livid right now.

I don’t shut up though. Not only because I can’t stop myself from going on, but because I need to get him to snap and move so we can get to the roof.

“I mean, how fucked up is it that your dad brainwashed you into avenging your brother’s death? He’s a grown ass man and he’s using his kids to do his bidding. Really gets you thinking about who the favorite child is, or was in this case, doesn’t it?”

Quinn’s face contorts into a grimace of rage and I can see both her and Ethan lunging at us from miles away, so I act before they can.

I let go of Sam’s hand and pick up a discarded scaffolding pipe, shoving it into Chad’s hands before turning back around and kicking the side of Quinn’s knee when she comes at us.

She cries out in pain and goes down, and I spin around just in time to see Chad knocking the knife out of Ethan’s hand with the pipe.

“You piece of shit, you know nothing about us!” Ethan shouts, scrambling to pick the knife back up, but Chad is one step ahead of him.

He kicks the knife under the seats before stepping to the side so Tara can knee him in the face, knocking him out.

Yeah, get his ass, Sprout!

Quinn wails furiously and jumps to her feet, her rage obviously numbing the pain in her knee. She tightens the grip she has on her knife and lunges at Sam who raises her arms defensively.

“Oh no you don’t!” I growl, darting forward and catching her wrist mid-strike. I twist it so the knife is now pointing at her and watch in horror as she runs straight into it, stabbing herself in the throat because she can’t stop her advance in time.

Her eyes widen, and she chokes on her own blood for a moment before Sam kicks her in the stomach, forcing her to let go of the knife and fall backward.

She twitches helplessly, coughing and clawing at her own throat for what feels like hours before finally going deathly still.

“Good fucking riddance,” I spit and Sam nods, seemingly in a daze with her eyes trained on Quinn’s dead body until I grab her hand and pull her away. “Let’s go!”

Tara and Chad have already left and I can only hope that they made it to the roof okay. Where Kirby and Bailey are, I have no idea, but the theater’s been deathly quiet since that gunshots I heard earlier.

Please let that have been Kirby shooting Bailey and nod the other way around.

“We need to call for back—“ My words get stuck in my throat when Sam lets out a surprised cry behind me. Her hand lets go of mine and I hear her knife clatter against the ground before I whirl around to see that she’s tripped over something.

No, not something, someone. And that someone is Ethan who’s got his hand wrapped around her ankle.

“Son of a bitch!” Sam seethes and kicks him in the shoulder, which makes him let go of her, but when they both jump to their feet, my heart drops at the sight of him holding the knife she just dropped.

“You’re not going anywhere!” He slashes the knife through the air, missing Sam’s throat by an inch which makes me see red.

I yank Sam behind me, ignoring the way my back stings because of it, and tackle him.

He grunts when we go down and I feel him dragging the knife across my side, but all I can focus on is the sound of Sam’s voice, crying out my name, and the sensation of falling.

Falling, and falling, and falling.

“Y/N!”

I look up and it’s only when I see Sam bent over the railing of the balcony with a bewildered look in her eyes and an outstretched arm that I realize Ethan and I went overt the edge.

No. This was not supposed to happen.

I want to reach out and grab her hand, but it’s too late. I’m falling and before I know it, everything goes black.

I can’t have been out for too long, because when I come to again, everything is quiet.

There’s no shouting, there’s no police and I’m still in the theater, staring up at the blurry outline of the balcony and the dark ceiling.

Sam is nowhere in sight, but when I turn my head I see Ethan right next to me, sprawled on the ground amidst the glass shards of the display case he fell on.

Black dots are dancing in my vision, and I know it’s only a matter of time before I pass out again, but I know for a fact that he’s dead.

His neck is bent at an unnatural angle and his lifeless eyes are staring at me. His lips and chin are covered in blood from when Tara broke his nose with her knee and there are tiny glass shards sticking out of his cheek and forehead.

That’s two for two, I guess. . .

I avert my eyes and go to sit up to find Sam and the others, only to feel my heart drop when I find that I can’t move.

No. Not again.

I try again, willing every muscle in my body to help me sit up, but it doesn’t work.

All I can do is turn my head, and even that is difficult now that I think about it.

It’s like trying to run in a dream, and before I can stop it, a desperate whimper slips past my lips.

Not again. Please, not again.

The memory of Leroy’s face— the firefighter who pulled me out of my parents car after the accident— makes its way to the front of my mind and when I close my eyes I see his sparkling blue eyes above me.

No, not again. Not again. . .

“Y/N!”

My eyes fly open and I look up. Leroy’s blue eyes swim in and out of focus before they’re replaced by dark brown ones.

Sam.

She’s kneeling over me and has her hands on the side of my head.

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God. What did you do?!,” she whispers frantically, her eyes darting between mine.

I go to say something, but she shushes me by pressing a finger against my lips. “Don’t answer that. Save your strength. Just stay awake, okay, keep looking at me.”

I don’t know why’s she’s telling me to stay awake, but then I feel the almost irresistible pull of sleep tugging on my insides.

My eyes flutter, but I can’t in good conscience rest until I know it’s over— until I know that everyone’s okay.

“T-Tara. . . Chad,” I whisper, my eyes momentarily focusing on the pendant of Sam’s necklace. It twinkles in the low light and fills me with an indescribable warmth, knowing that she hasn’t taken the necklace off since I’ve given it to her. It also somehow chases away the panic that threatened to wash over me just a moment ago when I realized I couldn’t move.

“They’re okay,” Sam says, her voice breaking which makes me look at her again. Her eyes are filled with tears and her bottom lip is quivering the same way it did when I collapsed at the hospital a year ago. “They’re both okay. Kirby’s okay, too.”

I exhale shakily and blink back my own tears. “So, it’s over?”

Sam nods, running her thumbs over my cheek. “It is and help is on the way, so try to stay awake, okay? I know you’re tired, and you’re in a lot of pain because you took quite a fall, but you have to stay awake.“

“Quite a fall” feels like an understatement, but I don’t comment on it. I just shake my head and sigh quietly.

“‘M not in pain,” I slur, feeling my consciousness slipping away again.

It’s true, I’m not in pain. I just can’t move, but that’s okay because I know everyone else is okay. They’re all going to be okay, including Gale and Liam.

“What do you mean you’re not in pain? You just fell ten feet! How can you not be in pain?” Sam grabs my hand and laces our fingers together. I can’t feel it, but I see her doing it. I also see her furrowing her eyebrows when my hand stays limp before realization dawns on her.

“Y/N. . .” Tears roll down her face and I want nothing more but to reach up and wipe them away, but I can’t. “You’re— You’re—“

“‘S okay,” I whisper, trying my best to smile. “I’m okay.”

“No, you’re not, you’re not,” she hiccups and lets go of my hand again to cradle my head and the back of my neck just as my eyes begin to flutter. “Hey, keep your eyes open! You hear me, Y/N?! Keep your eyes open!”

But I’m so tired and she’s here. She’s finally here after everything that’s happened.

“Sam?”

Tara’s voice makes Sam look up and I take that as my chance to close my eyes.

Just for a little bit, I tell myself, but as soon as my eyes close, darkness washes over me.

“Y/N? Y/N!”

They’re all okay.

She’s here.

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Before you come for me I just want to say that—spoiler alert—we’re going to be okay!

This part was a pain to write, but it’s done and I can rest now.

Only one more part to go!

Tag list: @bella423 @artrizzler19 @btay3115 @canyonyodeler @quadofthec @pussyydestroyer @rqizzu @pithod @morganismspam23 @idontliketoread2137

[seokmn]

chapter 15.

wc: 1.9k words

chan spent hours and hours thinking about what to do. he even reached out to his parents, having a long conversation about his wishes and future. he didnt close his eyes for more than two seconds during the whole night, just so he could finally get to his final decision: leave the company.

once he made up his mind, there was no turning back. was this decision the best for him? he had no clue, but he was willing to take the risk.

-

as chan was walking out of the building after ending his contract with his company for real, he wondered where would he go now, which place would be his escape from his thoughts?

he just let his body take him somewhere, anywhere that he could find a peace of mind. he walked down the very familiar path without actually thinking about it and he wasn’t surprised when he found himself standing in front of your front door.

he stared at the door for a while, torn between knocking on it or just walking away. youve been avoiding him for a whole month, why would you pay attention to him now? but at the same time, he thought that if you knew about the news maybe, just maybe, you would get back to him and everything would be back to normal.

chan clenched his fists before taking a deep breath and knocking on the door. his heart was beating faster than he expected and his mind was full with possibilities, good and bad.

it didnt take that long – although he thought otherwise – for you to open the door, the small smile on your face turning into a surprised expression. it felt like you were seeing a dead person right in front of you, not because he was dead to you, but because you didnt think he would be at your door, especially after exactly one month after the breakup.

“hey,” you felt a pang in your heart when you heard chans voice sweet like honey. you missed his voice, you missed him. “i dont know exactly why im here, to be honest. i was walking out of the company and then in the blink of an eye i was here knocking on your door.”

you were about to speak, but chan was faster than you.

“i miss you, yn. i miss your laughter, your hands hanging on the back of my neck, your smile, hearing your silly comments about whatever tv show we decided to watch, the way you would always scrunch your nose when i rested my forehead against yours after we kissed, watching you steal napkins from the restaurants we used to go to just so you could have something physical about that date to put on your journal,” his voice started to crack while his eyes held so many emotions. “i miss everything about you. ever since we broke up i didnt have one single entire day that i could look back at it and say ‘yeah, i was happy that day’. i dream of you every night, and im so tired of always crying in my room when im in my bedroom. weekends that i wasted crying myself to sleep and staying in bed 24/7.”

chan took your hand in his and squeezed it. the feeling of your hand sending him into another dimension.

“i dont want to sound like im trying to manipulate you into coming back to me,” the boy shook his head frantically. “no, i dont want that. i just needed you to know how im feeling and to know how youre feeling. do you feel the same way? tell me, yn, do you want me back as much as i want you back?”

that last phrase. that damn phrase. do you want me back as much as i want you back? yes, you wanted, but you couldnt tell him, why would you? he had a whole dream to pursue, a dream and future of a life you didnt belong in it.

you looked at his red face from holding back his tears, the sight of him like that breaking your heart just as the sight of how wrecked he looked when you broke up with him broke your heart. you tried to speak, but your voice betrayed you.

your hand met his cheek and your thumb gently caress it before you pulling him into a hug. that was when chan couldnt hold back anymore and started to tremble as sobs started to leave from his lips.

chan needed your touch way more than he thought, he hugged you deeper, tighter, making sure you wouldnt leave his grip.

“please… be mine again,” he said between his sobs. “i left the company, we can be together again and i swear nothing like that will happen ever again. i wont let it happen.”

his words made you freeze. he left the company? you immediately broke the hug, finding strength out of nowhere to fight against chan’s strength that was trapping you close to him. “what did you do?”

“i left the company…”

“are you crazy?! why would you do that? did you leave because of this relationship?”

“it was for the best, yn!”

“fuck, chan,” you ran your fingers through your hair, frustration all over your face, and guilty too. “youre supposed to be an idol, the future of kpop, a fucking shining star! are you throwing that away because of a relationship?”

chans tears turned from sad to angry tears. “i want to be a shining star only in your eyes, yn!” he shouted, you could even see the string of saliva connecting his lips. “ever since we broke up i lost all my passion for every thing i once loved, and you werent the only reason for me to leave the company, okay?! stop treating this decision of mine like it was stupid, i had my reasons!”

“so what you gonna do now? find another company? give up on your dream and live a miserable life?”

“if youre by my side, my life wont ever be miserable.”

“bullshit and you know it!” you pointed your finger at him before sighing and placing your hands on his shoulder, trying to speak with a calmer voice. “dont do this to yourself, dont make huge sacrifices for me.”

“why not? its my life!”

“did it never cross your mind that maybe i feel like shit when you do that? how would you feel if i had given up on my dream because of you? you would feel guilty, right? and dont even try to lie because i know you.”

chan stayed quiet, looking at you with his fist clenched.

“what if the love dies? we break up again and then what? youll lose your chance of doing something you wanted since you were a little boy? be rational, lee chan!”

you felt tears streaming down your cheeks and chan immediately let his guard down and reached out to wipe them off. when his warm hand came into contact with your cheek, your body instantly leaned into his touch. you missed the feeling of his hand on your face so bad.

“i love you, chan… i love you so bad,” your voice came out as a whisper. “thats why i cant do this to you. i cant hold you back from doing what you were born for. i want you to be free… please dont make this any harder for me. i cant keep pushing you away, i want to make the best decision for you. i want to see you everywhere, i want to hear about your world tour, about your face being on time square. i want you to be successful, to be able to look back at your past and be happy for making the dream of the five years old channie coming true. so please, let my love be only a memory from now on, a good and warm memory.”

chan shook his head, his lips curled downward and trembling as tears poured out of his eyes. “there has to be something i could do… a way that i could have you while pursuing my dream.”

“chan, theres not…” your voice came out softly, but full of hurt and sadness.

“if i find a way, do you promise me to be mine again? dont give me that rational smartass answers, its just if i find a way. i promise you i wont ever bother you, unless i find the solution to all of this.”

you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. that was insane, how could he find a way of being an idol and dating you? if his future fans dont make the relationship fall apart, his busy schedule will. but still, deep down you knew that he would try anything in his power to make that happen, you knew damn well how much he loves you and would do anything to have you back.

“yes.. i promise,” you rested your forehead against his and close your eyes.

even with your eyes closed, you could fell him smiling. you could feel hope radiating the environment. that was chan, a guy who will never give up once he gets something in his mind. you opened your eyes and felt your heart beating faster as you realized how real this was. chan was really that close to you again.

“you should go.. my parents will come back home any minute and if they see you here they’ll ask me questions and…”

“i know,” he cut you off and spoke in such a gentle tone. he looked at you and caressed your cheek, your foreheads still resting against each others. “can i… can i kiss you? the last time before i take a while to get back to you.”

you chuckled at his request. of course, so typical of him, but who are you to deny his request? the request he made with so much confidence, emphasizing that he certainly will come back to you.

“yeah, you can.”

chans heart exploded right there in the moment he heard the ‘yeah’ coming out of your lips. the grin that was on his face was a grin that no one saw it since that cursed night.

he didnt think twice, closing the distance between your lips as fast as he could. the kiss was more than special, he definitely made sure to pour out all of his love and the feeling of missing you as he lips touched yours.

you wrapped your arms around his neck and he placed his hand on your waist and the other on the back of your neck to tilt your head and be able to kiss you properly. he didnt want this last kiss to be a mediocre one, he wanted to be the kiss, and his mission was accomplished.

once the kiss was broken, he pecked your lips a few more times, making you giggle and his heart melting at the sound. he looked at you with a huge smile on his face, it was like that depressed chan never existed, and reluctantly took a few steps back.

“goodbye, yn. wait for me,” he said as he started to walk away with his back facing the street. “i promise you we will get back together!” he stumbled at a rock that was on the sidewalk and you chuckled. he looked at the rock with a frown on his face before looking at you again, the frown immediately being replaced with a grin. “and keep looking at your finger, cuz one day ill put a ring on it!”

you smiled warmly and signaled him to walk away.

when he was out of your sight, you let out a sigh, a happy one. you had a feeling that everything would work out, that he was going to find a way to make it work. and if he doesnt, at least you knew that he tried hard.

HIGH SCHOOL SWEETHEARTS

yn and chan date since their freshman year and are truly high school sweethearts, but will chan’s dream of becoming an idol get between their relationship?

masterlist — prev — next

taglist: @ivehypnosis @wonkierideul @ateez-atiny380 @noircheols @222brainrot @odxrilove @vixensss @starshuas

[dreamingunderacloudysky]

SFW alphabet w/ curly pleasplease

SFW ALPAHBET | CURLY

A/N: Gotchu 👍

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

He's pretty affectionate, just not super affectionate, but not standoffish either. Loves to handhold or lean his head on your shoulder (vice versa). Loves to put his head on your lap.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Clearly a ride or die (as we've seen). Will have your back, though not the most attentive lister and tends to space out, but he will still listen.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He enjoys it time to time! Likes having you on top of him resting on his big man boobs (sorry i had to make this comment after I've seen so many people make art of him with that barrel chest) but having that familiar weight on him actually gives him some level of peace and keeps him grounded in the present.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

He can cook and clean. After the Tulpar (without him burning) is can see Curly being tired of leading and having ambition weigh him down. So I can see him becoming a house husband with a knack for gardening.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

He sucks at confrontation, so if he HAD to it would be via a letter.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Down to marry. 100% it's always been a dream of his. Marriage isn't even a question for him it's a question for you.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Both. Very gentle and delicate. Curly is the type of guy to stop and smell the roses. Is very careful with you, he fears he might overstep or cross a boundary with you.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

He likes hugs! Sometimes he'll even lift you if he's in a super good mood.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Medium burn. Quicker than expected but he's a softie.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Not much, there is a fear in the back of his head that he could be doing more to win you over, but other than not, it's not really a concern.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Likes kissing the top of your head and cheek. When you're off the work he'll lean down and give you a peck as he pushes you breakfast to-go tupaware into your hands.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He's not the best. He cares a lot for children but Curly's caution might make him a little boring for kids.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

I want to imagine Curly secretly hates mornings. He's groaning into his pillow and pulls you against him while wrapping the two of you in a blanket burrito.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Nice dinners, Movie theatre, Halo 2 (Anya convinced him to play the Halo series) campaign, a lot of things.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

SLOW. This man really struggles with being open and honest when it comes to what's on his chest. We see it in the game, but he thinks that if he keeps his burdens to himself, it will make his job easier. It won't. So it takes him a while, and you have to gently coax it out of him.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Slow to anger, quick to panic.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Honestly tries his best but he can have his head in the clouds sometimes, but has a really GOOD idea of new things you'd like.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

A proposal or fun nights out in an outlet.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Protective in the way that he'll buy you a top rated tazer and teach you how to use it.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

A LOT. GOES ALL OUT. AND STILL WORRIES ITS NOT ENOUGH.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Bottling up his emotions, fear of conflict/confrontation, and initial struggle with vulnerability.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Not much, though his hair takes more time than anything.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Yes. He is lost without someone.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Likes older cars to newer cars. I can totally see him driving a Buick GNX.

Despite being a captain i can see him having an inclination towards the mechanical arts!

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Arrogance. He hates arrogance. Also lack of empathy.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Stomach sleeper when you're not around. Talks in his sleep.

[luckymilkshakerebel]

Under the Stars

Genre: romance

Cast hyunjin x reader

The dim light from the bedside lamp barely reached the living room, where you lay peacefully on hyunjin lap. His fingers, gentle as whispers, traced patterns on your cheek, occasionally brushing strands of your hair away. You had fallen asleep with your head resting comfortably against his thigh, your breathing steady and slow, content in his presence.

A playful smile tugged at the corner of hyunjin lips as he watched you sleep, his gaze soft and adoring. His fingers moved from your face to your nose, lightly poking it. You twitched slightly but didn’t wake. hyunjin chuckled softly to himself, the sound a soothing melody that accompanied the quiet hum of the city outside.

“Still out cold?” hyunjin whispered, more to himself than to you. His fingers gently traced your lips next, feeling their shape beneath his fingertips. You pouted slightly, the faintest of movements under his touch.

“I know you’re awake, love” he murmured with a smirk, watching your lips twitch again. “You can’t fool me.”

You didn’t respond, instead sinking deeper into sleep. But hyunjin couldn’t resist the game. His hand moved to your nose once more, tapping it lightly, and you gave a soft laugh in your sleep—a sound so small and sweet, it melted his heart.

“I knew it,” he whispered, leaning down to press a soft kiss on your forehead. “You’re awake.”

You didn’t open your eyes, choosing to stay in that warm, sleepy haze. Your breath was even, your skin warm beneath his touch. hyunjin took the moment to study you—your calm expression, the curve of your lips, the faintest hint of a smile playing on your face.

hyunjin couldn’t help but feel a sense of peace, watching you like this. You looked so content, so serene, so perfectly at ease in his arms. The world outside didn’t matter—there was only this moment. You, him, and the quiet comfort of each other’s company.

His fingers gently moved to your lips again, brushing over them slowly. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. “Even when you’re asleep.”

A giggle escaped your lips, this time not a soft laugh in your dreams, but an actual, quiet sound. hyunjin eyes widened, a grin forming on his face as he leaned down to kiss your nose.

“I knew you weren’t asleep,” hyunjin teased, his voice playful now.

You opened your eyes just slightly, giving him a sleepy smile. “Okay, maybe I wasn’t.”

hyunjin chuckled, running his fingers lightly through your hair. “Maybe? You totally weren’t asleep.”

You leaned into him, your hand resting lightly on his chest. “But I didn’t mind you poking my nose, hyunjin”

“Hmm, really?” he said with a mischievous glint in his eye. “Maybe I should poke it more often.”

You shifted slightly, adjusting your position to get more comfortable on his lap. His fingers found your lips again, tracing their outline slowly, savoring the softness beneath them. “You don’t mind this either?” hyunjin asked softly.

You sighed contentedly, humming in response. “Only if you don’t stop.”

He laughed softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I could stay here forever if you let me.”

The warmth of the moment enveloped you both, wrapped in the comfort of shared silence and shared love. The world beyond seemed distant, faded into the background as the two of you existed in this quiet bubble, filled only with the sound of your breathing and the occasional sound of his heartbeat.

His fingers stopped moving for a moment, and you snuggled deeper into him. “I love you,” he whispered, the words brushing against your skin like a soft breeze.

You smiled softly against his chest, your eyes fluttering closed once again. “Love you too.”

And in the stillness, under the glow of the lamp and the quiet hum of the city outside, time seemed to stand still.

Want to read more you can go to my MASTERLIST

[the-bi-space-ace]

for the Title tag game - please god tell me about Echo Dies I love me some good angst-

:) I’m excited to tell you about the angst

It’s going to be a chapter fic around 5-7 chapters opening with the batch returning from a mission. They’re beaten up, injured, disoriented, but one of them is missing.

Echo.

Echo is gone. They saw him die. Hunter is certain he heard his heart stop (whether that’s true or his own brain trying to rationalize it for him is another case entirely) but when they get back they have to tell Rex who was the one utilizing them for this mission. He seems… off about the news but it could just be that he has to be in ‘Captain’ mode and grief is not something he can handle right now.

Crosshair, however, notices something is off with him and afterwards when they have a moment alone Crosshair confronts him. They have a really stilted conversation but it all comes down to one thing:

They know Echo isn’t dead. They can both feel it, even if it’s not logical, even if the rest of the batch is 100% sure of what they saw.

This prompts them to create a plan, steal a ship and go on a completely unsanctioned mission to retrieve a trooper that may or may not be alive. I want to live in this moment where they are both so convinced he’s alive that they’d do anything to prove it and get him back but truthfully he could actually be dead and they’re just too grief stricken to make peace with that.

The batch follows them to try and find them before they get caught for stealing a ship and going back into enemy territory when their orders are to stay put. It’ll be a good mix of Crosshair and Rex, who are constantly fighting and at odds but are putting it aside for Echo, someone they both care so much about that they’d do this, and the batch who is having their own interpersonal conflicts, feelings about being left behind when they would have helped, and pressure to get those two back and under control before something happens to them.

I have a scene set up for Crosshair and Rex where they are kind of at each other’s throats. Tensions are high, they aren’t getting along. And they have a fight that mirrors the one they had when they rescued Echo the first time. Rex throws the things Crosshair said back then in his face and Crosshair says whatever he can to hit Rex where it hurts. They’re stuck together, though, so they have to work it out. For Echo’s sake if nothing else. I even have a few lines of that argument and fragile resolution planned:

Rex: What was it you said about him? That he’s just a reg?

Crosshair: You’re the one that left him for dead the first time! Do you really think you can make up for it by going back this time?

~~ and a very fragile truce ~~

Rex: Look, all that matters now is getting him back. If we have a problem no we don’t. Once he’s home we’ll deal with this issue between us but until then shut up. Got it?

They’re struggling throughout this whole thing but I promise by the end they’ll come to understand each other.

I love this fic and am very excited to start writing it. I’ve got another chapter fic to write before this one but I’m hoping to start posting it sometime in June :)

Thanks for asking!!!

WIP Title Ask

[violettssims]

The eastern suburbs of Newport where "all the hipsters live" (according to Christian) The streets are a little grungy and you'll get a whiff of rotten trash on every corner but it's home to the best coffee in the city, a vibrant mix of culture and many, many neighbourhood (or perhaps just lost) cats.

[surreal-duck]

es rarepair week 2024 day 1 | AU/future

lil ghostic au of mine!!! yuzuru and the rest of fine are long since trapped souls in an abandoned mansion of which rst come across while looking for shelter during a storm :] it doesnt um. particularly end well

[secriden]

I woke up this morning still thinking about Fadel waking up in Style's bed.

I wonder what was running through Fadel's head as he turned to look at Style, eyes still squinting against the too-bright morning light, the unfamiliar comfort of the shape of Style's name on his lips for the very first time. I wonder if he was too sleepy to process how strange it was that he didn't really mind being pinned down by the weight of Style's thigh thrown over his hips; that the sensation was grounding and reassuring rather than being confining or suffocating. I wonder if the thought crossed his mind that he wouldn't mind waking up like this again, wouldn't mind letting someone into his space, wouldn't mind giving someone the bared vulnerability of lying naked and unprotected with all the implications of unwavering trust that has -- not if it was with him.

I wonder if Fadel registered the way his heartbeat is steady and calm despite the strange surroundings and unfamiliar bed, because something in him has already labelled the person lying next to him as safe.

I wonder if Fadel even understood that this, right here, in all its quiet and unacknowledged stillness, was the moment he fell in love?

[windupaidoneus]

now some people may not like to hear it but even the worst people who exist are still people & there is no human being who has More right than others to decide whether others deserve to live or die (does not mean i personally condemn murder in self defense or anything of the sort or killing fascists or whatever i'm just saying as a baseline This Is How it Is) & this is why the death penalty is not a good thing no matter how good & trustworthy the people in any government might be. people on average also deserve the chance to learn to do better. & no, someone who's been forcefed propaganda their entire life will not let go of that deeply entrenched mindset so easily, it's not particularly unrealistic & it absolutely sucks to deal with but in the context of tangibly working toward world peace it's also not an issue to try & help such people both in material ways & in helping them learn better rather than cut them down or abandon them to a grim fate. all this to say that's why i don't think garlemald is written badly, as unpleasant as the experience might be. walks off the stage

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[itisiives]

I just learned that Biden gave Ukraine more missles to use on Russia...

[inbabylontheywept]

The Motherfucking Lizard King

No one at work trusts my boss. 

He's smart. He works hard. He's not trustworthy. He hasn't actually fucked anyone at work over, but he's ruined his last two marriages with affairs, and got dumped by his third fiance when he wouldn't sign a prenup. The fact that we all know this is just a hazard of working in a small town. 

Anyway: The thought process of the people in the lab is that if he screwed over his first wife, and his second wife, and was probably planning on screwing over his third wife, it would be insane for him not to screw us over. After all, what kind of idiot treats their employees better than their spouse? 

I dunno. His kind, I guess? He's had a few chances to fuck us over, and he hasn't taken them. Opposite really. When our parent company was doing furloughs, he stayed in the office almost a hundred hours, talking and talking and talking his way up the corporate ladder. And in the end, no one at our site got furloughed. 

He's pulled strings like that before. And it baffles me, right? Because it really does make zero sense. He'll move the heavens and the earth for us, but his wife and kids are afterthoughts. It feels like any moment, he's going to look into the mirror and realize how stupid that is. It feels like I'm betting on him making the same stupid mistake again, and again, and again - like it would be less cynical to believe he was, eventually, going to stab me in the back. But he hasn't yet, and as far as I can tell he's been making that mistake for close to fifteen years, and it's already cost him everything it can. If he was going to learn, he would have by now. 

So my position on him is that if he wanted to date someone I cared about, I'd warn them off. I don't trust him there. But I tentatively trust him to be my boss. Maybe one day he'll stick the knife in and twist, and everyone will say Ah, Babs, we warned you, but for now, I accept that he's doing a very predictable, very irrational thing, and I've made my peace with it. 

---

My job has glue traps. 

No one likes the glue traps, but we don't have a lot of options. Poison's banned by state law, spring traps are banned by company safety, and several non-lethal options tried in the past failed to work. The mouse problem can get pretty bad if it's ignored, and there's some real health hazards in that. Our site has never had a positive hantavirus test, thank God, but the big base about a half hour away has. That guy's gonna be on oxygen the rest of his life. 

If a mouse gets caught, we just euthanize it. But more than mice get stuck. Lizards can wander into those traps too, and the people working there have different feelings about the lizards. They don't pose nearly the same kind of risk mice do. They're chill little guys, and they keep the moths away, and they're just 

You know. They're friendly. There's something to be said about walking into a room, and hitting the light switch, and seeing two little guys on the wall start to do pushups as soon as they see you. 

People used to just euthanize the lizards too, but I had pet leopard geckos as a kid and I couldn't take that so I wound up googling how to free animals from glue traps. Now, when a lizard gets stuck in a trap - which happens once or twice a week - I get some vegetable oil from the breakroom, and a little plastic fork, and I'll spend fifteen to twenty minutes just kind of gently prying the little guys out. 

I have a team of technicians that help me operate one of the larger machines. They're real blue collar guys, ex-airforce, and they make me look like a little kid. Being an engineer means they'll look to me as a leader sometimes, which is a wild experience. And I started helping the lizards for my own conscience, but one of the crazier consequences of it has been that it seriously boosted my leadership cred. Because those guys see me, and they go: Hey. If he's willing to fight for a lizard, he's gotta be willing to fight for me. 

I cannot overstate how nice that is. Most engineers that want to make a change to a maintenance practice, or try an upgrade, they have to work their asses off to get the techs to buy in. But I can just ask. They already trust me to do good. They know I'm new, and they know I'm not the smartest engineer in the building, but they also know I'm the one who gets lizards out of the glue traps. 

And just because of that, they're willing to follow me. 

---

My boss has a meeting every month or two. It's typically basic house cleaning stuff - reminders about routines we've gotten lazy on, and updates on future projects. Maybe some warnings about problems coming from higher up in the company.

People are, in my opinion, a bit too cynical about the meetings. It stems from people not trusting our boss, which again, I understand, because it would make so much more sense if he wasn't trustworthy. It's a testament to the man's incredibly unhealthy priorities that he is. But as we made it to the end of the meeting, one of bullet points was: 

Do NOT mess with animals in the building. 

So I looked at my techs, and they looked at me, and when he got to the point, he was so scathing I actually just wanted to crawl under a rock and die. He said basically that he'd heard some reports about someone in the building handling animals that found their way in and got stuck, and that he just wanted to emphasize how insanely inappropriate that was, not to mention dangerous, and that if he needed to speak to anyone about it again, there would be severe consequences. 

I was willing to just take the shame and move on. I was. But one of my techs is old. Old enough he could've retired two years ago. And his actual literal goal is to one day get angry, yell at someone, and storm out. That's how he wants to retire. So instead of biting his tongue like everyone else, he stood up and said: I hate the glue traps. You hate the glue traps. We all hate glue traps. But we've all sat here for years, ignoring the little things that get stuck in them, watching them die, and then Bab's comes in, and he is the first person in decades to give enough of a shit to start pulling the lizards out. And I don't want him to stop. 

Get humane traps or shut up but we are not going back to the old way of just letting things starve. 

And my boss actually froze up. He got all wide eyed and stared at Marc, and then the other techs jumped in, and there was a very small but intense rebellion in the meeting and my boss kept trying to interrupt while getting absolutely bowled over by this gang of angry middle aged air force vets, and eventually he just went 

I will speak with Babylon about this afterwards! After! And then he will speak with everyone else, but I have more points to cover. 

So they went silent, and my boss rushed through the last five minutes, and we all adjounred. The techs really didn't like that I was going in alone - they thought our boss was going to try and shout me into compliance. Marc in particular was like, Look, if he tries bullying you, stand your ground, and if he threatens anything, just come get us, and we'll give him hell. 

So armed with that, I went to my boss's office. I sat in the chair across from him, and he kept his composure for maybe five seconds before just flopping back into his chair. 

I had no idea you were saving lizards, he said, but I'm glad you are. I always hated seeing them die in the glue.  

I wasn't expecting that. I was about to ask him what the comment from the meeting was about then, but he answered that before I even got the chance.

A snake got into the building last week, and - someone picked it up and chased a coworker around. Turns out that coworker was severely afraid of snakes, and now it's a shitshow. We're a small site, and now I can't ask those two to work together anymore, to say nothing about how the snake fared after all that. Being upset about that is a reasonable thing, right? 

And he gave me a look like he actually wanted an answer, so I said Yeah, totally, chasing a coworker around with a snake is a dick move. Especially if that coworker is already afraid of snakes. 

And he said Exactly! and then we sat there a few moments longer. He looked so incredibly tired that I did, actually, feel kind of bad for him. And then he somehow managed to sink even further into his chair, and said

Look, I know I'm not a good guy. But I'm not evil. I'm not some sort of crazy asshole that's going to demand that everyone watch lizards starve to death. When you go back downstairs, could you try to pass that on? That I'm not evil? 

I said Sure because it wasn't a hard request, and he looked relieved. I actually made it halfway out before I realized I had a question. 

Who grabbed the snake? I asked. 

Not supposed to talk about it, he said. But whoever comes to mind first is probably right. 

ThatGuy? I asked. And he looked me in the face, nodded his head yes, and said No. 

---

The techs seemed a little disappointed that they didn't get to storm the boss's office, but were otherwise in good spirits. They were actually a little bit embarrassed to hear about the snake story - apparently, it wasn't much of a secret. It'd just slipped their minds because it happened three weeks ago. 

We did maintenance after that, the same basic repairs we did every week. The meeting had been stressful and it was a relief to work with my hands. When the parts were reinstalled, everything cleaned and smooth and ready to go, Marc found me again. 

You know what the lesson of today is? he asked. And there were quite a few answers to that that I could have taken - from don't assume the worst of people to be careful with how you spend your trust - we all need it more than we think. 

But instead I said what? because I wanted to hear what his answer was going to be. 

That I got your back, he said. Then he clapped one very, very large hand on my shoulder, gave it a good squeeze, and walked back to dosimetry lab.

---

The next day, Marc gave me a package and told me to open it in my office. I was suspicious, but I followed the request.

Cardboard gave way to a small baggie, obviously full of fabric, which opened to reveal a t-shirt that read

"I Am the Motherfucking Lizard King."

I looked at it, I loved it, and then I got an idea. I went to my boss's office and knocked on the door. When he opened it, I asked him if he would be willing to allow something very unprofessional to happen for morale building purposes.

How unprofessional? he asked. I held the shirt up in answer. He gave the shirt a short look over and snorted.

You can wear it on weeks without customers, he said. Which just so happened to include that week.

I'll pass on that it came with your blessing, I replied, and he looked oddly relieved.

Thanks, he said. And then I went downstairs.

---

The techs were very, very happy to see the shirt. And while my boss's reputation remains in tatters, and probably will be until he moves (or dies), the next time there was a meeting, there was quite a bit less complaining about how mere presence. Which is, I guess, a start.

We'll see if he squanders it.

[seraphdreams]

GOT MILK? | TOJI FUSHIGURO.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — synopsis. what happens when you invite an unexpected guest into your home? lucky for you, this one cares about your health!

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — cw. fem!reader / milkman!toji, smut, cliche porn trope, size kink, coercion, food play, a bit prey/predator dynamics, 1950s-esque setting, toji’s huge, unprotected “love-making”, mdni <3.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — word count. 3.3k

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — dolled up! it’s been a while, hasn’t it? i’m so so sorry i’ve been away from writing :( but trust me, we’re so back !! this is actually my first full length toji fic n i’m so excited 4 you all to read it . . i wanted to keep it light and cliche for all of our pleasure. this took me about two months to write on n off, but !! if you like this n enjoy it, please comment / reblog ! i’ll make you all a glass of seraph’s special milk, thank u ♡ a big shoutout 2 @gh4ul for beta reading ! i love u so muchie!!

fluorescent shimmers of the setting sun pierced through your living room window, beyond pastel curtains, and onto the curvature of your face as if the sun itself used you like its own canvas while you lounged upon the couch. soft murmurs of whichever television show you had fallen asleep watching hummed within the four thin walls of your flat, creating the perfect ambiance for a peaceful late afternoon nap.

it wasn’t as though you had done much during the day, aside from indulging in your boredom with the mundane baking of cookies, taking two batches to get right, alongside tidying your room.

although currently, you slept soundly in a way that came off as daunting to others; torso clad in a thin tank top paired with little pink shorts that could’ve been mistaken for underwear by any onlooker, with your hand rested just below your abdomen, chest rising and falling in the most harmonious synchronicity.

vulnerable, like prey unknowing of its predator.

fortunately, the neighborhood you resided in was safe. some sweet suburban city where everyone knew each other more than they knew themselves, and the thought of anything being remotely out of place sent residents into a frenzy. it was innocuous to assume that not much out of the ordinary took place. or that was the case, until —

knock, knock.

“delivery for y/n?”

stirring in your sleep, you prayed that the owner of the baritone voice that had woken you up was just some figment of your imagination, some effect of unintended lucid dreaming perhaps. yet, upon blinking open unfocused, bleary eyes, and the loud couplet of knocks on the door following soon after, you were pulled out of dreamland and into the vexing reality.

three more firm knocks paired with a gruff tone calling out flatly, “delivery,” was enough to have your body sashaying involuntarily to your front door.

whoever was outside was insinstently persistent. if they had thought to put even an ounce more strength into those compact knocks, your door would have been long gone by now.

“coming!” the dulcet tone of your voice was riddled with exhaustion and you were unsure if the sound had resonated with the stranger on the other end, your internal query being answered once the relentless abuse of your front door had ceased.

you had ignored the fabric of your meager top, not quite noticing the way the strap so slightly dropped from your shoulder, leaving such a beautiful expanse of skin exposed to, and for, anyone. swiftly, you had opened the door for your unexpected visitor.

there, stood some dark haired man, taller and bigger than any other man you’ve known in the neighborhood. he must have had to be over 6’0, with a stature so broad, chiseling muscles barely hidden underneath the thin fabric of his uniform. his white hat tilted upward, and as your eyes descended, you caught his matching suit worn just a bit too taut. it was as if the first two buttons of his shirt were hanging on for dear life to cover what massive mounds his chest was. not to mention, how his thighs were close to breaking free from their confines.

to the right of the struggling buttons, sat a little pin that read “toji.”

he didn’t put any effort into a friendly introduction, the only hint of expression you could trace was the furrowing of his brows at his forehead as he gave you an unreadable stare.

“was told to drop this off here.” toji spoke. he held out a small wired basket with two glass jars of white liquid, seeming to be milk. maybe it had been your fuzzy, half-awake mind, and what little thoughts were up there, but you couldn’t recall a time where you had placed an order for some strange fluid.

was it a thing the neighborhood would do every once in a while?

as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and gave the handsome stranger a soft pout, you spoke airily. “what’s in the jar, sir?”

his demeanor shifted into pure displeasure, not fancying the query your hollow brain came up with. it remained undoubtedly clear that he wasn’t the most amiable of folks.

“it’s milk, darling.”

“i didn’t order any milk, sorry.” that same pout remained on your lips as you shook your head for the milkman to end a seemingly quick conversation, but just as you were about to close the door back, the pressure of his strong hand against the wood made your attempt futile.

to your surprise, a miniscule smirk was evident on his scarred features. “no?” his narrowed eyes drank you in from the bottom up as if you were lemonade on a scorching summer’s day. those same eyes skillfully darting from the spill of your breasts in your little top, up to your pretty pursed lips and doe-like orbs.

anyone could tell from a mile away what type of girl you were — the type that toji devilishly enjoys.

it wasn’t often he was presented with a doll such as yourself. sure, he could pick the mind of others increasingly well, could tell just when someone was planning to set him up (like some sort of off-duty criminal) but with you, it was as though not a thought could be lodged behind vacant eyes. everything about you was pure, untainted.

he stepped closer toward you, his foot conveniently placed between the barrier between your home and the outside. “try it for yourself. it’s fresh, and organic.” as he spoke, the glint in his deep gray eyes had overturned into a sly darkness. and when you shook your head at his advance, he only scoffed, peering in closer until he fully stepped foot into your abode.

“oh, c’mon,” vexation laced his tone. “don’t make my job harder than it already is.”

his hauntingly large frame eclipsed yours, the sun casting a backlit shadow behind his silhouette, like something out of a 50’s horror film. at that moment, you were in no position to deny his simple request.

it was just milk, perhaps he wanted an honest review.

your eyes met his, and you swallowed thickly as you hoped that courage would fill the void in the pit of your stomach. “how much for a glass?” softly, your question floated in tense air. a smirk upticks on his face as he reaches into the basket, holding up the larger jar of the two settled in the basket.

“for you, it’s free of charge.”

maybe you should’ve questioned the insubstantial value, for nothing in this economy was truly ever free.

you take the bottle from him, popping open the lid and taking a sip. the unnerving feeling of greedy eyes caused goosebumps to form over your skin. the liquid certainly had a thicker texture to it, possibly an ode to its organic nature; and as you sipped and sipped, you failed to notice the drippage that rolled amply down the side of your mouth to your chest. toji, however, caught sight of it — because, of course he did.

after you had your sample size, you took a manicured thumb to glossy lips, wiping your bottom lip to collect the remnants before taking your tongue to your thumb to lick up the remains.

in that moment, you reminded him of a kitten, some meek animal vastly trusting of the others in its environment.

his smirk grew wider and he closed the door behind him as he stepped closer, now merely a few inches away from your figure. “oh, but miss,” his voice full with anything but a genuine concern for you, he traced his finger along the trail of milk that lingered at your chest. “you missed a spot.”

his sudden touch startled you in such a way that shifted your body to jolt once you felt his cool fingertips. that same motion forced you to completely forget about the open jar in your hand, accidentally spilling an even larger amount of milk all over yourself in the process.

drenched in the liquid, your top became practically see-through with only the sight of your pert nipples showing underneath. it's candy for the eye, toji’s at least.

“you gonna keep that on, princess? you’ll catch a cold.” his voice feigns concernment towards you, as if he pitied the pathetic state he put upon you. in that moment, sheepishness clouds your empty head, and if you could cower away, you would; but instead, you took him up on his suggestion, turning your back to him and doing away with the thin barrier.

“gimme a minute to change.” you shyly said as you looked back at him with a hand barely covering your chest.

how cute you were, so willing to invite a stranger into your home and even strip for him — were you always this welcoming?

before you could scuttle to your room, you felt a firm grip on your arm. toji, now clearly having fun with you, had given you a menacing smirk along with a tsk of his tongue. “you’re still all wet,” he turned you back around to face him in one swift motion. “let me clean you off.” his hand slowly trailed up your arm and to the swell of your breasts where he cupped one in his large, calloused palm. the feeling of his rough fingertips over your bare skin caused you to break out in a shudder. “s-sir, i don’t think..”

he shushed you the moment his thumb rolled over your hard nipple, milk still dripping down your skin. with one hand, he pulled you in tight by your waist, and with the other, he aided himself in wrapping his lips around your nipple. you could only describe his touch as hungry, rough as if the opportunity to take advantage of your vulnerability would slip away into thin air. he locked steel grey eyes with you as he did so. once he got his fill of toying with your sensitive mounds, he switched his sucking motions into little bites.

his deep groans and your soft whines filled the space instantaneously. he’d rotate from one breast to the other until he felt you growing weak in his hold, the squeeze of your thighs telling him everything he needed to know about your desire. and when he felt satisfied with the level at which he teased you, he unlatched.

it felt as if all air had rushed out of your system from the raspy whines you had let out during his ministrations. you took a moment to catch your breath and regain composure as he stood up tall to his original position.

oddly enough, comfortability grew within you, possibly the adrenaline of a handsome stranger feeding your mind with illicit thoughts. “am i all clean now?” your voice comes out shaky, feeble with lust, and as your eyes scanned his formidable appearance, down to the bulge that left his sheer size to anything but the imagination, you grew greedier.

“squeaky fucking clean.” his response comes off as a growl. “how about some real milk as a reward, sweetheart?”

you tilted your head, as a confused puppy would, looking up at him with spacey eyes. “real milk? i thought i was just drinking it?” he smiled at your perplexity, finding you too cute to let go. “that milk,” he pointed at the bottle you set on the counter beside you. “isn’t as organic as it claims. you need the real thing in ya.”

toji fumbles with his belt buckle, unfastening it until he could comfortably whip his cock out. you had never seen something so large, so girthy that it instilled a blend of fear and excitement within you. “on your knees, pretty thing.” he demanded. “gotta make sure my girl grows big and strong.”

you complied, obviously. when someone as sturdy as him tells you to do something, it’s only natural that you do it.

with your weight now rested on your knees, your job was easy. you wrapped a feeble hand around the base of his cock, mouth agape in bewilderment that he could barely fit in the cusp of your hand. toji let out a hiss under his breath once your hand began to diligently slide up and down his shaft. slick dribbled into the rapture of your enclosed fist from just how turned on he was. as you continued to teasingly pump him, your tongue darted to place gentle kitten licks paired with tender kisses to his angry tip. “you’re real confident now, aren’t ya?” he goads, though not necessarily in a mirthful manner.

a soft pout forms at your lips upon hearing his words, urging you to increase your pace by a minuscule amount. once you had gotten familiar with the monster in your palm, you wrapped your lips around the head, slowly inching yourself down his shaft until your nose met the unruly hairs of his pelvis. he was heavy in your jaw, a telltale sign that you’d end up with a strong ache that’d take days to soothe; and the throb of his length only led to the gush in your panties.

as you began to bob your head, toji threw his head back, large hands gripping at your jaw to keep you nice and puckered for him. the sensation of his plush tip bullying the back of your throat causes you to moan, a sound, and a feeling, that toji doesn't miss. you pick up your rhythm, but shortly after, toji starts up his; slamming his cock into your unexpecting mouth with no remorse.

rough ministrations urged you to gag until you came to ignore the feeling and focus on his pleasure, innocent and teary eyes showing through a wall of thick lashes up at him. what a cocky bastard.

“c’mon, you can take more, can’t ya?” he goads, his vocables resonating in a choppy cadence underneath the guise of his groans. “dontcha want milk?”

the mix of saliva and his precum trailed from your mouth as his heavy balls slammed against your chin. you took notice of how his vigorous pace faltered, signally an orgasm just seconds away.

one thrust. two thrust. three.

he’d managed to hold your face to his pelvis as he fucked through his orgasm, a deep groan bellowing through the air while he painted your throat in his seed.

what a liar. he didn’t taste anything like milk.

slowly, he pulls away and spurts the last few drops of cum onto your swollen lips, where he took much needed amusement in your starry eyed gaze.

your heavy pants were like music to his ears, something he wished he could etch into his memory for years to come.

“it’s all messy.” you mewled, licking at the seed that dripped to your lips. his hands were glacial as you felt them on your face while he leaned down to be eye level with you. “oh, i know. lemme take care of that.” he swiped his tongue against your bottom lip, drinking in his own orgasm before taking you into a heated kiss.

it was a brief moment, so brief you were too lightheaded to even realize how he manhandled you into the perfect position — bent over to touch your toes.

he pulled away, roughly tugging at your little shorts until they pooled at your ankles. you felt him slide his cock over your panties just before pushing them to the side to line it up with your slit.

all toji wanted to do in that moment was slide right in, but he knew he couldn’t. you just weren’t wet enough to handle all of him. and besides, he definitely didn’t want to deal with a whining princess suggesting that it “doesn’t fit.”

instead, he slid his sensitive cock between your folds. “gotta get you nice ���nd ready,” he spoke while reveling in the way that his tip catched at your poor, neglected clit. “feel flattered, i don’t do this for everybody.”

each slide jolted your body as the slightest tinge of pleasure coursed within you. it wasn’t enough to get you feeling close, no, but it was ample in gushing more slick from your hole.

“t-toji, sir, please..” you had let out a soft, vexed sigh at the lack of feeling, wiggling your hips to create friction in any type of way.

it reigned pointless, as most things did with toji. he was too busy focused on the sheen covering his cock from just toying with your angelcunt that whatever nonsense you were spouting was irrelevant to him. he continued his motions until the tightening of your core and fluttering of your pussy told him everything he needed to know.

satisfied with the level at which he teased you, he halted. just before you could fucking cum. you let out a frustrated whine that didn’t mean much to him, agitated by the loss of sensation.

in mere moments, he was pushing himself past your walls, stretching you out while your little cunt struggled to accommodate his size. “w-what if it doesn’t fit..?” you managed to babble out in your pathetic state.

oh, if your nosy neighbors knew that sweet little princess down the street was getting her cunt stretched out by the milkman, they would have a conniption.

toji smirked at your concern, ultimately brushing you off while continuing to urge himself even deeper. “let’s just make it fit then.”

the feeling of being stuffed full was unlike anything you’d experienced in the past. your past partners weren’t much to moan at, but toji? he had you grasping at any surface to give you leverage. as soon as he bottomed out, you could feel the tip rubbing so deliciously against the hollow of your cervix, the tinge of pain going unnoticed from how riddled with desire you were for him. with confirmation that he was fully inside, toji began to set a rough pace, strokes deep and firm enough to have you jolting forward with every thrust.

you scrambled to hold onto anything for dear life, afraid that your knees would grow weak and give out underneath your own weight. though, he kept his hands taut at your hips, only speeding up his potent thrusts to taunt you even more for your lack of stability.

fucked dumb within the first few seconds, drool dribbled past your lip, your eyes rolled into the back of your skull as you tried to take everything you were given.

with the intense way your walls were hugging around his cock, he couldn’t help but let out something of a deep, guttural groan. you had reached behind you to press a feeble hand to his abdomen, hoping it would ease his ministrations, yet your adorable action only caused the opposite.

he took your wrists in his one hand, pulling you up to hit deeper within your walls. “fuck! ‘s too d-deep!” you cried out, that familiar coil of pleasure tightening within your being, and to your dismay, he only held you closer against his chest, other hand gripping at your jaw while his cock milked your gspot for all it’s worth.

“too deep? this too deep for ya?” toji taunts. “i thought you knew how to take dick, you sure looked like it.”

his grip at your face only tighten an ounce more as he waited for whatever nonsense you could muster out.

“i-i can..! i c’n take it!”

only seconds later did your high come crashing down, sending your body into a flutter of shocks. a sensation so perfervid, it had your mind hazy while you creamed all over his cock.

following suit, in a bout of thrusts, toji was painting your insides with his warm wet seed, only pulling out once he felt you go limp in his hold.

“don’t tap out on me now, you haven’t even paid for the milk.”

[heart-of-the-morningstar]

✨Sensitivity✨

I am an absolute SLUT for Luci’s wings so I wanted to write something with them :), huge thank you to @myhornybrainonlyknowsthis for the help 💖

Also I’m legit on a cruise ship rn, but @amberlouise473 knows I gotta feed y’all like I’m tossing corn to my chickens 🤣

Lucifer x f!sinner reader

Summary: You’re super curious about Lucifer’s wings, but neither of you knew how sensitive they were. You didn’t know how sensitive you could be either…

Warnings: 18+, smut, dry humping, ruined clothes, pet names, oral (f receiving), face riding, over stimulation, multiple orgasms

It was time for bed and Lucifer was still working. You knew he worked late sometimes but this seemed a little later than usual. You decided to take a look to see if he was still in his office. Sure enough, you saw him sitting down at his desk when you entered the room. But when you looked closer, you saw that he’d fallen asleep at his desk, his head resting in his arms. He looked so peaceful lying there, you almost didn’t want to disturb him. But you knew he’d feel a lot better if he actually slept in your bed instead of hunched over his desk. Quietly, you walked towards him trying not to make any loud noises that might startle him. You placed a hand on his shoulder, shaking it lightly.

“Luci?,” you whispered, “Luci, it’s time for bed, wake up sleepy head.” He moaned quietly, but your shaking didn’t seem to have done the trick. You shook his shoulder a little hard. “Luci, c’mon hon.” Nothing. You took your other hand and placed it on his other shoulder, shaking him even more. “Lucifer!,” you nearly screamed!

With that, Lucifer’s eyes shot open, pushing himself off the desk. “AAHHH!!! WHAT?!?! What’s going on?!,” he yelled. You never saw him so frazzled before, it was kind of cute. But what you really didn’t expect was to see Lucifer’s wings spring out from his back. It must have been an involuntary reaction from the shock of being woken up so suddenly. His eyes found yours and he breathed a sigh of relief.

“Oh, it’s you, darling,” he breathed. “You really scared me there! I guess I must have fallen asleep, forgive me.” You were only half listening to him at this moment, your gaze was still fixed on his angelic wings. You’d only seen them once or twice before, but never for long. It was then that Lucifer turned his head and noticed what had caught your attention. “Oh! Sorry about that, it’s a defense mechanism, as silly as that sounds. I’ll put them away-”

“No, wait!”, you shouted louder than you meant to. Lucifer cocked an eyebrow at you, not understanding why you had stopped him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. It’s just…I never get to see your wings. They’re really beautiful.”

A light blush dashed across his face, he gave you a shy smile. “O-oh, thank you! I don’t think anyone’s ever said that to me.”

“That’s a shame,” you pouted, “I think they’re incredible.” You walked closer to him to get a better look at them. Their white and red coloring were breathtaking. Their length took up almost the entirety of the room you were in, and his office was not small in the least. A tiny part of you wondered if he always had red feathers, or if they had changed after he…

Perhaps that was a question for another time.

“Are they heavy?,” you inquired.

“Oh! Umm, I don’t think so,” Lucifer pondered. “I don’t really notice if they are. I might have gotten used to them over the last 10,000 or so years.”

“Can I…touch them?,” you asked shyly, averting Lucifer’s gaze.

He smiled. “Of course, love. Let’s go back to our room, shall we?”

Lucifer’s wings disappeared for now as he gently grabbed your hand and led you out of his office. Once you reached your bedroom, he unfastened his shirt and threw it off to the side. It made you blush, even though his bare chest was not a new sight to you. Lucifer noticed your reddened face and smirked.

“It’s a little easier this way, don’t you think?,” he chuckled. He walked over to the bed and sat down, crossing his legs in the process. He tapped his thigh, offering you a seat in his lap. You smiled and wrapped your legs around his torso, straddling him. “You ready?,” he asked with a little smile. You nodded your head eagerly. In an instant, his three sets wings appeared again. You noticed something was a little different though.

“I could have sworn they were bigger,” you puzzled.

“No, you’re right, they were,” Lucifer laughed. “I can control how large or small they need to be. They might have broken something in here if they were any bigger!”

You chuckled lightly. They were even more breathtaking up close, his scarlet feathers glistened even in the dim lighting of the room. You stuck out your hands and touched the top of his first set of wings. Unexpectedly, Lucifer inhaled sharply from your touch, screwing his eyes shut. You pulled away instantly.

“Oh no!,” you gasped. “Did I hurt you? I swear I barely touched them! I’m sorry!”

Lucifer exhaled slowly and opened his eyes again. “No, no, it’s alright, love,” he cooed, “it wasn’t painful. I just didn’t expect the sensation. Let’s just say they’re…more sensitive than I originally thought.” It was only then you felt a bump forming between your legs.

Oh…OH!

You quickly caught on to what he was referring to. And having you straddle his lap probably wasn’t helping. A small smirk crept across your face. You couldn’t resist the urge to make him squirm from your touch; the thought excited you.

“Well, in that case…” you smiled slyly, reaching out for his wings once more. This time, you gave them a slightly firmer grip than before. Lucifer nearly yelped from your touch and buried his face into the crook of your neck. You ran your hands up and down the tops of his wings, almost massaging them in a way. Lucifer was unable to hold back his moans.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, sweetheart,” he panted.

You loved the sight of him bending so easily to your simple touches. You wondered if you could break him. You began to shift your hips in his lap, grinding on the now very apparent bulge in his pants. Lucifer nearly sobbed as you ground your hips against him. You moved your hands down to his second set of wings to give them some attention. You could tell he was unraveling quickly.

“D-Dear,” he choked out, “i-if you don’t stop, I’m g-gonna…f-fuck…”

His plea only made you grind against him at a faster pace while continuing to stroke his sensitive wings. At this point he couldn’t even form a coherent sentence, only broken moans and gutural sounds left his lips. You moved your hands down to his smallest set of his wings, pinching them between your fingers.

“FuckfuckfuckFUCK,” Lucifer cried out as your movements finally pushed him over the edge. He bit down on your shoulder as he came, completely ruining in pants. Once he came down from his high, he looked into your eyes, almost distraught.

“I’m…I’m so sorry,” he whimpered. “I-I didn’t think that…I didn’t mean to…” He couldn’t finish his sentence. His wings disappeared from sight as he buried his head into you chest

“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” you told him as you lifted his head up to plant a tender kiss to his lips. The small tears that had formed in his eyes fell down the side of his face, but you wiped them away with your thumbs. “Luci, please don’t apologize,” you soothed. “You never have to feel sorry for that! Did you feel good?”

Lucifer steadied his breathing, trying his best to calm down. “Yes, love, it was amazing. You’re amazing.” He lifted you off his lap and placed you on the mattress while he stood up, discarding the rest of his now filthy clothes. “But I absolutely refuse to be the only one being pleasured tonight.”

Without warning, Lucifer leaned down and crashed his lips into yours, filing your mouth with his tongue. You moaned against his lips, feeling as though you might be devoured by him. Lucifer tugged at the hem of your pajama pants, asking permission to remove them. “Mhmm,” was all you could mumble. In one swift motion, your pants had vanished and all you felt was the cool air on your legs. Lucifer brought down his fingers to your folds, loving the feeling of how wet you were for him. He captured your moan on his lips, but suddenly pulled his fingers away, leaving you to whine in protest.

Lucifer broke your kiss and brought his soaked finger to his lips, tasting your sweet nectar. “Mmm, you always taste so delectable, darling,” he marveled. You couldn’t help but blush at his words, he knew just what buttons to press when it came to you. He crawled back up on the bed and laid flat on his back, his head propped up by the pillows. “Come have a seat, sweetheart,” he teased as he pointed to his coy smiling face.

Your face became extreme hot as you crawled towards the demon king. You made your way on top of him and came to a halt when your dripping cunt hovered right above Lucifer’s eager smile.

“A meal fit for a king, truly,” he laughed as he dug his face into your aching pussy. You nearly screamed as his forked tongue worked his magic along your slit. He devoured you, making sure every inch of you was consumed. His lips found your clit and started to kiss and suck at it. He’d only just started and you were ready to snap.

“O-Oh my God, Lucifer, shhhiiittt, I’m so close…s-s-so close…,” you whined.

“God can’t hear you down here, angel,” he teased you before continuing to lap at your folds. He made quick work of you, the knot in your stomach threatening to snap at any moment.

“Fuuuuccckkkk, imcummingIMCUMMIMG,” you screamed as you finally felt your walls clench and spasm around nothing. Lucifer happily swallowed your juices as your orgasm started to recede. You tried to lift yourself up off Lucifer’s face, but he kept a firm grip on your legs.

“I’m not done with you, love,” he chuckled. With a snap of his fingers, golden shackles formed around your ankles, the chain hooked underneath Lucifer’s back. A twisted look of fear and passion flashed across your face. You were trapped.

“L-Luci…what are you-” you tried to asked but were cut off by another long lick up your sensitive cunt. A gutural moan escaped your mouth, you still hadn’t fully recovered from your orgasm.

“I thought it would only be fair to ruin you, since you ruined my clothes,” he chastised playfully. “But if at any time it becomes too much for you, tell me and I’ll let you go immediately, okay?”

“Al-Alright,” you stuttered, trembling from the anticipation.

Lucifer hummed against your lower lips. “I’ll make this a little easier for you, sweetheart.” You saw Lucifer’s form start to change beneath you. His horns had erupted from his head while his eyes shifted to a deep red and gold color with onyx irises. “Something for you to hold onto,” he murmured sensually.

Tentatively, you took hold of his horns and braced yourself for his next move. You didn’t have to wait long before you felt his tongue attacking your cunt once more. The grip you had on his horns could have torn your skin clean off with how tight you were holding them while he nipped and sucked your overstimulated clit. Before you knew it, your second orgasm hit you even harder than the first. Then your third, your fourth, your cunt was getting absolutely abused by Lucifer who hadn’t shown any signs of slowing down since he started. After your fifth orgasm washed over you, your legs had given out from under you, completely collapsing on top of Lucifer.

“No more…,” you begged. “No more, please…”

Lucifer snapped his fingers and the shackles around your ankles disappeared in an instant. You conjured up the remainder of your strength to push yourself off him and roll over onto your side, an absolutely breathless mess. You could hardly keep your eyes open. You could feel yourself losing consciousness until Lucifer pulled you flush to his chest.

“You did so well, my dear,” he murmured against your ear. “Are you alright? Do you need anything?”

“Sleep…” was all you could muster. Lucifer chuckled lightly, kissing your cheek ever so softly.

“Goodnight, love,” you heard him whisper as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close. It was the best sleep you ever had.

~~~~

“I just think they’re neat!” - Me w/ Lucifer’s wings also Lucifer inventend pussy eating, this is fact, ALSO also something something handlebar horns

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FOR FEELING SAFE / EXPRESSING COMFORT * assorted dialogue, adjust as necessary, send "reverse" for the reversal of action prompts. suggested by judgementdaysunshine

DIALOGUE PROMPTS

i haven't felt like this in a very long time.

i wanted to thank you for protecting me back there.

you stepped in when you didn't need to.

for once in my life, i feel safe.

this place gives me a good feeling.

i feel safe in your arms.

it's been a while since i slept through the night without any nightmares.

i could get used to this.

i won't let anything happen to you.

you make me feel safe.

you didn't have to step in and help me, but you did, and i appreciate that.

no one's ever stood up for me like that before.

my whole life has been filled with conflict and pain. not anymore.

maybe i'll finally know peace with you.

we deserve an easy life.

you're my port in the storm.

i can't tell you the last time i actually felt safe.

you know me. i don't let my guard down for just anyone.

something changed to make me feel this way.

you're safe here with me.

they won't come after you, and if they do? they'll have to go through me.

it feels nice, being here with you.

you make me feel like i can accomplish anything.

i can be myself with you.

we're looking out for you.

you won't judge me for the things i say.

just stay here a while, if you don't mind.

so this is what safety feels like.

i can finally breathe again.

nothing can touch you while i'm here.

you can go back to sleep. it's safe.

no one will hurt you anymore.

my life is in your hands.

promise me you won't abandon me?

i'll be right here when you wake up.

you taught me how to protect myself.

ACTION PROMPTS

[ lean ] sender slowly leans into receiver's shoulder and rests there for a while

[ sleep ] sender manages to fall asleep in receiver's presence

[ snuggle ] sender snuggles closer to receiver as they sleep

[ reach ] sender reaches for receiver in their sleep

[ shelter ] sender uses their body to shield receiver from danger

[ seek ] sender seeks out receiver for a protective hug

[ choose ] sender has plenty of options on where to sit in a crowded space, but chooses to sit directly beside receiver

[ reassurance ] in a tense moment, sender takes one of receiver's hands to hold

[ stay here ] sender guides receiver to a safe place and tells them to wait there while they deal with a problem

[ interrupt ] sender stops a confrontation between receiver and someone else, stepping between them and coming to receiver's defense

[ home ] sender shows receiver their new home

[ nightmare ] sender comforts receiver after they wake up from a nightmare

[whorefordean]

attitude adjustment || r.c

wc: 1.7k

cw: mean rafe, reader is kinda bratty, rafe calls reader a bitch, a yummy headlock (will be putting this into every fic probs), p in v sex, unprotected sex, pussy slaps, slight cockwarming

MDNI 18+

rafe sleeps soundly beside you, and that alone is enough to make you hate him. well, not actually hate him, but still. his strong arm is draped across your hip, hand splayed flat across your stomach. his rings glint in the subtle glow of the moonlight.

most people would see this as an act of endearment, however, rafe decided to hold true to his promise of punishing you.

"been such a fucking brat this week, and i'm not in the mood to deal with you," rafe had scolded you earlier in the day while squeezing your cheeks together with a firm grip. you had simply pouted, knowing that eventually he would deal with it by fucking the attitude out of you.

wishful thinking.

it had been three hours since that ordeal and two since rafe had gone to sleep. in those two hours, you'd tossed and turned, secretly hoping it would wake rafe up. apparently, you hadn't lost the attitude, even if the day was over.

as you rolled over again to face rafe, you caved. you trailed your hand up his bare chest.

"rafe?" you whispered softly. you waited a moment, watching as he remained unbothered and peaceful. damn him.

as your arousal built and your panties got wetter, you got more desperate. you slipped your leg over his hip, trying to wedge yourself as close as possible to him.

"rafe!" you pleaded for him to wake up. this time, a groan echoed throughout the room. his hand slipped up your leg, resting on your ass right below your tiny shorts.

"still got a fucking attitude," he grumbled in annoyance. you whined causing him to grip onto you tighter. finally opening his eyes, rafe glared at you.

"what do you want? huh?" rafe asked meanly. you pouted up at him as you began placing soft pecks against his bare chest, slowly making your way up his neck.

you shift until your straddling rafe’s hips, his hand still tucked possessively under your shorts. you whine when your hips shift against his as you lean down to his ear.

“need you, rafe,” you tell him quietly, kissing his cheek slowly. rafe groans.

“huh uh. been such a bitch to me lately. for no reason. not gonna reward you for your bad fucking behavior,” rafe scolds you tiredly. anger rises in you as you sit up. crossing your arms over your chest, you glare at him.

“well, maybe, i wouldn’t be acting like such a bitch if you fucked me good-“ you start to blame him. it’s a lie you don’t get to finish because rafe cuts you off.

“i dare you to finish that fucking sentence. if i wasn’t fucking you good enough, you wouldn’t be waking me up right now. wouldn’t be rubbing that wet pussy against my fucking cock, begging me to fuck you to sleep. such a fucking needy brat,” rafe hisses, slapping your ass roughly. you gape at him, half shocked half angered, because he’s right.

“you’re being mean!” you nearly yell at him. you try to grind yourself against him again but rafe holds your hips still for a minute before shoving you off of him.

“rafe!” you yelp as you tumble back to your side of the bed. rafe is quick to pounce on you, pressing your chest firmly into the mattress. his legs barricade your thighs, and you can feel his half hard cock against your ass. your hips lift, but rafe shoved them back down.

“wanna get fucked? hm? that gonna fix that fucking attitude? fine. i’ll fuck you. i'll make you feel good so that maybe next time, you’ll use your fucking words instead of bitching and whining all goddamn day,” rafe grits out as he rips your shorts down your legs. you gasp once at the cold air hitting your bare cunt, then again when rafe shoves your shirt up and yanks it over your head.

“rafe!” you yelp when rafe moves himself just enough to yank your hips up and give your dripping pussy a harsh slap.

“quit. start complaining and i’ll have to stuff that throat. you’ll take what i give you, brat,” rafe grunts, slapping your wetness again. pouting, you nod anyways.

rafe’s fingers linger near your clit, and it’s an effort to not grind yourself against his thick fingers. the bedsheets are wrinkled in your hands as you try to calm your breathing and keep your attitude in check. the temptation is there, but you refrain from begging him for something. anything.

finally, rafe sinks two of his fingers into you. a soft moan echoes out of your lips as your eyes flutter shut. before you can relish in the feeling for too long, rafe stops. he keeps his fingers buried inside you, but he doesn’t move. you wait. nothing. lifting yourself up, you turn to face rafe. your breath hitches when your movement causes his fingers to shift.

“rafe? please do something,” you beg him softly, mind reeling with need. at this point, you don’t care about keeping up the attitude. the need for his cock to be buried in you is too much to resist.

“oh, now that i’ve got my fingers in you, you’ll be nice? hm? i wanted to spend all night in this fucking pussy, but that fucking attitude…” rafe trails off, watching the way you shift your hips slightly, trying to thrust against his fingers.

“i’ll be better. promise, rafe,” you mumble when you notice the way he’s staring so intently at your exposed core. rafe thrusts his fingers a few times, watching as you match him with your own thrusts.

“you gonna work for it?” he mumbles. your hips falter but not from pleasure. you wanted rafe to do the work. wanted rafe to put you in your place. not make you do all the work even if it is your orgasm at stake here. rafe notices your hesitation and laughs darkly.

“no, i guess you wouldn’t. need me to do all the work to make sure you feel good. ain’t that right?” rafe teases. you open your mouth to respond, but he stops you. 

"if the next words out of your mouth aren't thank you, rafe, then don't say anything," rafe grunts as he pushes his fingers further into your cunt.

"thank you, rafe!" you gasp, lifting your hips slightly in an attempt to meet his thrusts.

"that's it, baby," rafe hums under his breath. your eyes snap shut when rafe's thumb starts toying with your needy clit. a whine rumbles from your throat as you tilt your head, trying to bury your sounds into the mattress. rafe grips your hair, tilting your head back until he can hear you better.

"don't fucking hide from me. you been begging for this," rafe snaps. his fingers slip out of you unexpectedly. you cry out, eyes snapping open as you look back at him. the pout on your face mixed with the pleading look in your eyes almost has him apologizing even if you deserve his meanness.

"need you, rafe," you whine, lifting your hips again. this time, rafe lets you grind your exposed pussy against his covered cock. your fingers ache, white knuckling the sheets under you. rafe's heavy hand is gripping your stuttering hips, and you can hear the breathy moans he's letting out.

"fuck, baby," rafe grunts. he stops your hips again, and you almost push him off of you, so you can finish the job yourself. you refrain though because an orgasm by yourself? wonderful. an orgasm given to you by rafe? fucking heavenly.

"rafe, please," you whine. rafe mumbles something along the lines of fucking impatient, but you ignore him, too focused on finding release.

you almost beg him again, but then rafe is slipping his hardened cock into you. you gnaw on your lip as he settles fully inside your aching walls.

this might be heaven, you think as rafe leans down to kiss your jaw. the action is a complete one eighty from his previous, but you don't object to it. you sigh in relief when he finally starts pumping his cock into you, slowly at first.

then, he's bottoming out repeatedly until your gasping for a single fucking breath. you grip at his arm beside your head, but rafe moves it out of your grasp before gripping your hand in his. your eyes lull shut as rafe continues to prove you wrong.

he had never been bad at fucking you, but you have always had an attitude problem.

rafe readjusts, lowering himself until his mouth is directly beside your ear.

"this what you wanted?" rafe asks quietly, slowing his thrusts while he deepens them. you nod, mind going blank when rafe slips his arm around you. he settles his bicep under your throat, effectively putting you in a headlock as he slips deeper into you.

"fuck, rafe. thank you," you pant. his hand leaves yours to rub at your clit. you moan out, your orgasm approaching. rafe fucks you through it, only using the slick to further your pleasure. you grip at rafe's bicep when he doesn't stop, even after you've cum.

"rafe, i can't-"

"you will," rafe interrupts. his voice is rough when he says it, and you almost beg him to keep going. he must have hear the thought because he doesn't slow down, continuing to fuck you even as you tremble under him. you try to push your hips further into the mattress, but rafe follows you. your eyes roll back in pleasure.

your second orgasm approaches faster than the last, and you can't stop the moans falling from your lips. you pry rafe's arm from around your throat. well, you attempt to pry his arm away.

his grip is firm as he finally spills his cum into your cunt. you pant when he finally slows down before fully stopping.

the two of you sit in silence, rafe still holding you tight in his grip. your cheek rests against rafe's bicep as you lay there, finally satisfied after being perpetually horny for the last week.

"thank you, rafe," you pant. rafe hums in acceptance.

"gotta learn how to fucking communicate, baby," rafe mumbles tiredly. you nod against him. rafe settles his weight against you, and it feels so good. so comforting. his cock is still buried comfortably inside you as the two of you drift off.