#i don't know if his claws are white or black and i think that's a very specific detail....

[rainysflowers]

Rainy answers this because it doesn't have enough people who would actually send in asks for an ask game so it'll just do it on it's own!!

1. What was the first anime you watched?

The first anime I ever watched was Pokemon Black and White when it aired on Disney XD. Ofc, at the time I didn't consider it an anime for whatever reason, and that has stuck with me forever, so when asked this question, I always answer with the one I consider to be really the first anime I watched. Ouran High School Host Club. Summer camp, awards ceremony, final day. My friend comes up to me and says, "Hey, have you heard about this show??" I said no, and went and watched it on Netflix. Instantly hooked. Kyoya was my favorite host, btw.

2. What was the first fandom you were involved in?

Pokemon and Warrior Cats. I 'wrote' fanfiction for Pokemon in my head since the age of zero, and made so many Warrior Cat OCs as a baby. Had a HUGE playlist of M.A.P.s too. Both of them had a long impact on my life going forwards, and I'm not entirely certain which came first.

3. What fandoms are you involved in right now?

Gosh, atm? Nothing specific. I've been in a depressive mood for a while so I haven't watched anything at all in a LOOONNNGGGGGGG time. It's sad, to be honest.

4. Who is your favorite character from Lost Universe and why?

DAMN, putting me on the spot right away, god. Okay, so LU is a spin-off of Slayers and I have to be honest, I don't have a favorite character from it, mostly because it's not all that much of a favorite anime to me in general, BUT for the sake of this question, I think Rayl would probably be the one I like the most. Tho, that's cuz he's kinda aimed to be the Xellos of the anime...

5. Who is your least favorite character from GetBackers and why?

Easy. Drunk Vash. I, uh, don't know his name, but if you've seen the anime he's the other blond older man with light powers who shows up in the second half. To be fair, I hate the second half period, as it feels like a retread of all the cool stuff they did with Maku-chan and the Fortress in the first half, but I also think that Drunk Vash is just boring. The random assholes he brings along are boing (Not Toshiki, I respect his manga characterization), his motives are boring, and his ending is boring. And that's coming from someone who hate the manga's ending!!

6. How do you feel about Boa Hanncock from One Piece and why?

Of course the wheel chooses the long asf anime, smh. I'll have you know I put a decent amount of people on the other wheel. I hate her. I cannot stand her. I want her to go away. Great, very sad story though!! Okay, seriously, I HATE Boa, I hate her probably more than I hate any of the other characters that I hate. She kicks small animals, she's a dick, she's vain, and I hate her. She has a beautifully tragic and traumatic backstory I love. I love the symbolism of it that she has to carry, and how that has affected her into her later life. I cannot stand her. That should summaries how I feel about her.

7. What color do you associate with Zelgadis from Slayers?

Hmm, I'd have to say lighter blue. Not light blue, just a lighter blue. A grossly dusty and depressingly grey lighter blue. It is his skin color, so that's little surprise. But other than that, maybe a little bit of yellow. The sickly bright eyes of a creature watching you from the woods, stalking your every move. Will it attack you with its monstrous teeth and blood-stained claws, or is it making sure that you can't hurt it like everyone else whose come to this forest?

8. Have you read the manga for Ghost Slayers Ayashi?

Actually, I have not. I do own it, it's a two volume series, and I have an extra volume one that came with the collector's box set for the anime, but I haven't read it yet. I should, GSA is pitifully under stocked with content.

9. What is your favorite anime op?

I don't really think about this all that often, but if I had to choose, I'd probably say Death Note OP 2, What's Up People. Its fun. Other than that, We Are from One Piece.

10. What is your favorite anime ed?

Have a Nice Music!! from Show by Rock!!, or Revolution from Slayers Evolution-R. Mostly the latter.

11. Who is your favorite character to write for?

I think it'll have to be Xellos. That's hard to say, but I do really enjoy writing about them interacting with other characters, and they're one of my ONLY antagonistic characters I write for. Writing their world view as the Slayers equivalent of a higher demon is fun, and I just love using their character voice in the things I make.

12. What is your favorite headcanon for Crow from Show by Rock!!?

Oh boy. I'm not super fond of Crow, personally, I don't think about him too often, but if I had to choose something, it'd probably be that he actually does care about Aion, but just teases him cuz he feels like it. Basic, I know, but this headcanon applies more towards various fics and AUs I like to write. Most of them deathfics. A large through point is Aion breaking down to any degree and isolating or removing himself from the group, which causes the tri to go and find him. I usually like to have Crow most affected by this when I am writing him because it's a good contrast.

13. What is your favorite character to read fics about?

I don't have an all time favorite character to read for, but I do have characters who I like to see focused on in the fic, if that makes sense. There's not one that's more than the others, tho, cuz I usually read fics fandom by fandom. Character's I prefer to have a focus on (NOT THEIR POV THO) are: - Xellos (Slayers) - Ban (GetBackers) - Jack (L/R) - Sanji (One Piece) - Yoji (Weiss Kreuz) - ECT... Basically look at a list of my favs and you get the point. Funny enough they're also all my favs to read about dying er uh who said that!!

14. What is your favorite ship from Death Note?

Oh no. Why would it land on this. Oh well. If I have to admit it, I do really like Light/L, but not in a super sexual or even romantic way. I like them more as a fucked up, evil dynamic that can't be quantified, like 'love and hate are both the same' type sentiments. I particularly like them ship-wise when in a No Kira!Cops! AU I have, because it allows me to mess with them not liking one another BEYOND the scope of being a serial killer and a cop. Other than that, and a worthy mention, I also like Misa/L, both in canon and in that AU I mentioned. I just think it could be cute :3 No Light/Misa tho, not in canon most certainly, it skeeves me out

15. What is your least favorite ship from L/R: Licensed by Royalty?

Time to sound awful. Uh... I don't really like Claire/Rowe... I don't want you to get the wrong idea, they're fine, I'm just not into their chemistry. It's not something that I would enjoy writing about or consuming solely. That's mostly because I ship the boys, Jack/Rowe, the non-canon gay ship, but I really don't mind seeing Claire/Rowe in general. I'm just not into it. I don't really have strong feelings on characters outside of the main three (Jack, Rowe, Noelle) in this anime so the two being in a relationship means I'm not interested in half of it and it's hard for me to engage with it. Sorry two other L/R fans on Earth :P

16. What ship will you go down with?

... Okay, uh... this is weird, but my fav fav fav ship is Shuu★Zo/Aion from Show by Rock!! It's an enemies-to-lovers ship with two character who I don't believe have ever spoken before once... BUT I have this AU. So in the show, Aion ends up possessed by a negativity demon, and wanders to the roof of a very tall building (He seeks out high places when distressed, he's very mentally ill). Shuu notices and tells Aion's band where to find him. In the AU, it's Shuu who goes and saves Aion instead of the band, and they grow closer after this, which is hindered by the fact they are in dueling, opposite genre bands (Aion is vkei, Shuu is jpop). I love them so much.

17. Who is currently your main comfort/emotional support character?

I have like five million but a sold fall back is Xellos from Slayers. I don't know why, but something made me gravitate towards them and it was never the same after that. Other notable ones are, like, Ban from GetBackers or maybe L from Death Note, but Xel is def the all time fav.

18. What is a comfort character you have that makes other people go ??? "Really?" 

I honestly can't think of anyone that would fit that description, but I like Kiriko from Black Jack and I think that he might be one of the weirder ones?? He's an old man twink who does euthanasia, but he's got a good story and I like that he just shows up sometimes lol.

19. Have you used a quote from an anime/manga in a relevant situation?

Nope. I have referenced the plots of anime/manga in situations before, however, like when I let made my friend explain the semantics of Minecraft Parkour Civilization just to say "OMG that's like GetBackers :3"

20. What anime food would you like to try?

L's strawberry shortcake from Death Note. It's a weird choice, right, but it just looks sooooo good. Perfect strawberry, good looking cake, and it's L's!! What's more to ask for?? Or I'd like Sanji from One Piece to make me something. Anything at all, I just wanna see what he'd give me.

21. What anime place would you like to visit?

Not an anime place, but omfg take me to Sapporo or Okinawa. They are soooooo pretty in Yakuza 3 & Yakuza 5 respectively, I wanna go NOW!!!!!!! But if I'm allowed to choose a fictional anime place then probably... I think I'd like to go to Shinjuku cuz Count D from Pet Shop of Horrors: Tokyo is there and the GetBackers boys are there too. I'd like to meet with them.

22. What anime animal would you like as your pet?

I feel like I'd rather BE an anime animal more than having any that I WANT, but if I had to choose, then... The person I reblogged this from makes a good point with an eevee from Pokemon. I kinda want a persacom from Chobits but thats not really an animal...

23. What anime movie is your favorite?

I don't watch many anime movies, but I guess if I had to choose one it would probably be either the Castle of Cagliostro or The First, both from Lupin the Third. Great films really, each extremely well animated and easy to get into... well... Cagliostro is, not so sure about The First... BUT you should still watch them, they're wonderful!!

24. What is the saddest anime you have watched?

Trigun 98. By far. Saddest shit you will EVER see, I highly recommend it. It starts off really fun and goofy, but as you get into it, the anime slowly creeps in its depressing things until you get halfway in and its game over from then on. You will watch Vash cry at least once per episode, and you will watch as he is broken down mentally and physically till he's nearly nothing. Great show, tbh.

My overly sepcific ask game with questions no one wants an answer to

Alternative title: things I want people to ask me but no one does

What was the first anime you watched?

What was the first fandom you were involved in?

What fandoms are you involved in right now?

Who is your favorite character from (anime) and why?

Who is your least favorite character from (anime) and why?

How do you feel about (character) and why?

What color do you associate with (character)?

Have you read the manga for (anime)?

What is your favorite anime op?

What is your favorite anime ed?

Who is your favorite character to write for?

What is your favorite headcanon for (character)?

What is your favorite character to read fics about?

What is your favorite ship (from a specific anime or in general)

What is your least favorite ship (from a specific anime or in general)

What ship will you go down with?

Who is currently your main comfort/emotional support character?

What is a comfort character you have that makes other people go ??? "Really?" 

Have you used a quote from an anime/manga in a relevant situation?

What anime food would you like to try?

What anime place would you like to visit?

What anime animal would you like as your pet?

What anime movie is your favorite?

What is the saddest anime you have watched?

This took me forever to make please don't let this flop

[yeyinde]

Lev? Uncle Simon? I’m excited. I don’t even know what it’s about but I like the sound of it already

out of all the untitled documents to choose from who knew the uncle Simon one would stand out so much lmao this is super choppy but here's my little idea for the new version:

At first, she's a name on a piece of paper. 

An abstract concept. Black lines stamped into stark white. An idea—

(a phone call in the middle of the night that he wasn't expecting. 

"Mr Riley? Is this—right. Well, the reason I'm calling is because the adoption agency received a request from one of the adoptees about tracking down their biological family, and you were the only match.")

—a ghost. 

Out of everyone, he thinks he mourned her the most. This tiny, insignificant thing swathed in pale pink and cradled in the arms of her mother, his almost sister-in-law. Tommy leaning over her shoulder, eyes glazed in an artificial gloss (c'mon, Tommy) as they smile, vacantly, at the camera.

At the time, elbow deep in a shallow grave as he stared at the photo his mother sent him, all he could think was: she never stood a fuckin' chance. 

And she didn't. Her first night home from NICU was when his past came back for revenge. Bloodthirsty, vengeful. They sunk their claws into his family, tearing them into pieces. A nightmarish massacre they called him to discover.

(pinch me, Tommy, pinch me—)

Better off this way, he remembers thinking. Cruel. Callous. Staring down at a tiny grave—her name etched in stone; only days old before the monsters in his closet came searching for their due—and knowing that this was all his fault. And then: sorry, little bird. 

Sorry. Sorry—

But that little bird crawled out of the dirt. Made it out alive somehow. 

(better this way, the higher up said, resting a neat, unblemished hand on the folder marked Simon Riley. next to it, a mask lay on the table. generic. he hums around his grief, thinks of Tommy in the grave—milkwhite bones. "a clean break—"

he thought it was their attempt at humour. maybe an odd way to comfort him. but with the roaring in his ears, he couldn't hear much beyond the ache in his chest, and the ice-cold fury coiling in his belly.

"she's in a better place."

fuckin' hell—

he thought they meant some idea of heaven, not Salford.)

And now—

That name on a piece of paper has a face.

A pretty one, too.

And though he tries to find pieces of Tommy in the symmetry of her profile—and feels antsy, restless, when he does—she takes after her mother. Same complexion. Eyes. The slope of her nose. All of it the woman he met once—stumbling home to find them both passed out on the couch, heads knocked together as a dense cloud of smoke plumed around them. Her eyes, heavy lidded and red, gazing up at him uncomprehendingly.

"who're you?" slurred out in a smokey rasp. Tommy didn't even stir at the sound of her voice.

It's her but healthy. Youthful. Clear eyes. Hands that don't shake. Teeth that gleam white under the fluorescent light of the cafe she works at, not willow-brown. Stained yellow with nicotine. She's softer, too. The harsh, fragile angles of her mother tucked away under a thick pelt. Solid. Steady.

Happy.

He spends a lot of time just staring at her in the back of the dimly cafe, hood pulled over the black ballcap hung low on his brow. Medical mask in place of his typical knit balaclava. Barely blending in to the passel of the teenagers that seem to congregate, em masse, in the small coffeeshop.

Sometimes, she looks back at him. Catches his eye. Offers a smile that's only a little wobbly around the edges, brow pushed together as she tries to make sense of his presence here. With the chocolate trim and the cream walls, the heady scent of ground coffee in the air, chatter of schoolkids and professionals that skirt around him with a considerable dearth to reach the trashbin next to his table. It's clear he doesn't fit.

Doesn't belong.

It glues to the roof of his mouth. The passing, mean thought that neither does she.

Or—

She wouldn't.

If Tommy survived, she'd be leaning against the wall with him, listening to the distant echo of flushing toilets while the world seemed to carve out a steep chasm between them. Them and us. That's how it's always been with him and Tommy.

But she—

She fits.

Offers smiles as easily as breathing. Something that would have netted them a black eye from their raging old man, bellowing out that he'd give them something to smile at.

She doesn't look like anyone has ever raised a hand against her. And he supposes, thinking back on the information he managed to get the private detective hired by her new parents to squeal out, that she doesn't. Not her. No.

Grew up in Salford with her adoptive parents—much older than most looking to adopt, already in their late forties when she was just a year old. Lived a life on the right side of the tracks: spelling bees, private tutors. Vacations to Disneyland. They weren't rich. Not exorbitantly so, but they managed a comfortable lifestyle. Food on the table every night. Chores. Movie nights on Saturday where she got bring a friend for a sleepover. Pizza and popcorn and candy and her mother asking, want some more snacks, honey? Soft and gentle. That's what they were. Are. Doting. Kind.

Punishments were drenched in disappointment. Voices never raised. Hands never furling into fists.

She was a good kid raised by good people.

And he should be happy for her.

He is happy for her.

They raised her good and proper. Put food in belly. Never let her know hunger. Or pain. Neglect.

But he finds Tommy in her smile. The little dip of her chin, tucking her happiness into her collar as if she doesn't want it to be seen. It's all—him. Them.

Simon just can't seem to think around the idea of her belonging to someone else—

(she's his family, after all. his baby bird. his brother's daughter. his niece. his. his—

and maybe it's time baby bird—Baby Riley—came home.)

[awesome-shoes-with-wings]

@hedgehodgy Another Barney sketch for yoouu! He desires the olives, please.

From the wonderful Percy Jackson Modern AU Family fic living in my brain, and lovingly eating my available art file space.

[yourstrqly]

✰ LET ME ANSWER, L. HAMILTON

[ preview ] the possessiveness comes to the light when your ex won't stop calling you during sex

[ tw ] smut, sir kink, description of a female body, answering the phone during sex, piv, riding, possessiveness

. minors do not interact .

lewis raises his eyebrows. four times, for the fourth time your phone screen light up on the nightstand, the name 'ex' showing, causing you to reach out, hands that claw on his strong back letting go, to decline the incoming call. it irritates him but the disturbance won't stop him from pushing inside your pussy again.

"give me the phone, darling", is all lewis says, shortly pulling out to sit himself against the headboard.

he looks ridiculously hot like this, tattoos glistening under the sweaty film on his skin, a single braid having found its way from the ponytail. there's a smirk on his face as he pumps his length and you want nothing more than for him to say what you should do now.

And then he does. "Ride me."

You hand him the phone and grab the base his cock to hold it in place, so you can easily slip the length inside.

A loud wail escapes your throat when his heavy cock scrapes up your inner walls, and you slowly start to ride him. he slides a hand under your ass, forcing you to bounce faster in his lap. your back arches, leaning against his chest and your hot breath fawns on his neck, where you bit softly into it. his throbbing dick stretches you out, leaving a burn when he reaches the depth of your wet hole.

You don't notice lewis pressing the green button, accepting the face call.

"hi baby, look I—who the fuck are you and where's my girl?", the guy on the other side asks, voice gruff and laced with anger. you try to keep quiet, but lewis has different plans, bending his knees to fuck himself roughly in your spongy walls that make lewd, squealing sounds. the trill of humiliating your ex turns you on; you thighten around your boyfriend's fat cock, feeling an orgasm incoming. nails dig into his shoulders, your vision is blurry and you moan, head thrown back with the mouth agape.

"tell him darling, who's making you feel this good?", lewis grunts, seeing your creamy pussy leaving a white ring around the base of his cock.

"you, sir", you whine, "you feel so good."

needily you rock your hips in his lap, ignoring the fire in your legs; his thick tip gazes the g-spot over and over again, causing you to choke out mewls and cries of pleasure — you nearly have forgotten your ex. "who the fuck do you think you are, huh?"

"i'm the boyfriend", lewis bits out. "You hear that?" You let out a high pitch cry, legs trembling as you cream his cock and drench his balls and tights. "that's the sound of my girl coming around my dick. every single day."

limp in his arms, you rest your head on his shoulder to make room for him to mark you up; you feel warm at his possessiveness, taken care of and loved. lewis' pillow lips nibble on your throat while he chases his high, chanting curses before he pulls out, throwing you on your back and spill on your pudgy stomach. you reach for the white liquid, skoping some on your fingertips before licking them clean, sucking gently the bitter taste of him, making lewis groan. "my dirty little girl, hm?", he whispers, the naughty smirk he still wears changing into proud one.

"for you, i'm everything, sir."

having not forgotten the face time call, you grab the phone to face your ex, who looks straight out of a comic with his harden gaze and red-from-anger cheeks. with mischief on your mind you angle the phone and press an open mouthed kiss on his lips, all tongue and teeth. it's messy like that and you love it.

breaking apart, the screen is black.

"didn't know you could act like this, lew", you grin happily. the man only laughed in response as he got up to get you a cloth to clean you and himself; he knows that you're turned on by this side of him, and maybe, just maybe, he'd do it again, even though the thought of someone else hearing your sweet moans make him jealous. wordlessly, he puts on sportify, the voices of temptation singing his girl, and he goes down on you, ever so softly whipping your pussy.

humming from inbetween your legs, lewis states: "you're made for me, darling."

"I know", you reply, slowly drifting to the lands of dreams.

rina speaks • ₊° ✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ . . [ 🪐 ] based on this requests! hope I did it justice x

[aliidarling]

I’m currently obsessed with the idea of a one night stand with Yandere gojo who’s ego gets crushed when you reject him in the morning

one night stand w gojo 😈

GOJO SATORU x fem!reader

— nsfw content (little blurb)

summary; u and gojo have funsies before u leave him for some odd reason??

warnings; smut, p in v, unprotected sex, mean reader kinda, UNREALISTIC reader cuz who’d actually leave this man?? overstimulation, whiny gojo, pussy drunk, he lowkey goes insane at the end

no, because gojo would never see this coming. he’d met you at a bar, thought you were absolutely gorgeous, and smoothly made his way into your booth. obviously, his pretty lashes and blue orbs would win you over, he would flash his pearly whites and somehow make you fall into his sheets within an hour.

could you blame yourself? he was the most handsome man you've ever met, with a hair color that amazed you with an even more amazing face card. expensive-looking jacket, smooth button-up tucked into black slacks, he looked like something out of a vogue magazine. his personality was even more of a win, considering how sweet and playful he was, making you comfortable in his presence within minutes. he was truly a people’s person, being able to sweet talk you even when he was battering his thick cock into your pussy.

you had never felt so slutted out, driven into such a mess underneath a man you didn't even know an hour prior. cunt stuffed with his prior orgasms, his breath heavy with some of his saliva dripping down your neck as he leaned all his weight on top of you. he was a mess, pushing himself as deep as he could into your wet pussy, relishing in how your gummy walls squeeze his cock justttt right. was he looking through rose-tinted sunglasses or were you suddenly even more pretty now that he had your breasts bouncing in his face?

“fuck, fuck, this pussy is sooo good,” he practically whines into your breasts, smushing his face in-between them. he has a rough grip on your waist, a bruising grip that he hopes leaves a mark. something to remind you of the next following week, to remember how good his cock made you feel. his hips thrust like an animal, pussy-drunk to the extent he was unintentionally overstimulating you, your whimpers and gasps going unheard by his ringing ears. all he could think about was how your small hands clawed at his shoulders and pushed your fingertips into his stiff muscles, earning a groan from the bottom of his throat.

“can you cum for me again, pretty girl? please? please? you feel so good, i don't think i can ever stop—’ he blabbers into your ear, ignoring your squeaks and pleas for him to slow down. you were insane if you thought you could make him slow down in this state, all he wanted to do was beat your pussy until it was permanently molded around him. you cant help but listen to him, especially when he sounded so sweet and whiny. your pussy tightens before squirting out cum over his cock, making him let out a girly-gasp. he whines at the sensation and pushes as deep as he can, cumming inside you for almost the fifth time tonight. he certainly wasn't fucking you like a one night stand.

a few hours later, satoru finds himself slowly waking up from the deep slumber he had been in for the last few hours. his body had gave out after the five rounds you guys went at, leaving him passed out on top of you.

when he awakens, his long fingers claw at the bed and look for your warm body. he remembers stuffing his face in your breasts before passing out, but now he can’t feel your pillowy chest against his face, and that’s a problem.

he mumbles your name softly, raising his head from the sheets, blinking dumbly. the absence of your warm body is immediately noticed by him. he sits up quickly, looks around for you, his lips tugging into a confused scowl. where’d you go? your clothes which were thrown on the floor were gone, your purse that you put on his desk was gone, your heels by the door— you were gone.

this couldn’t be happening. he rushes out of bed in a hurry and scavenges his apartment, trying to find you. maybe you had work and needed to leave early? maybe a family emergency? he means— with all those orgasms he gave you last night, no way you left voluntarily. he’d have to find you again.

you weren’t going to leave him. he had his eyes set on you and he would make sure you had no where to go. there was no way some pathetic little civilian could slip out of his grasp. you were crazy to think you could leave him. absolutely bat shit insane.

[k-martins]

Updating mine

MY TOP TEN FAVORITE JJK SHIPPS!!!!

10. SHOKOHIME

They stole Jogo and Hanami's place because I got it into my head that Jogo is like the grumpy grandfather and Hanai is the vegan aunt of the curse family! I like them. I think it's a ship with a lot of potential. I need to consume more content, but I love the fanarts!!!

9. HIGUNANA

This crack grew in me and now I'm suffering for them after the last chapter. In a kind universe, Higuruma and Nanami adopted Yuji and they live happily and happily!!! I think the two go together a lot and the fanfics are adorable! These Old Yaoi will be the death of me!!!!

8. CHOSOYUKI

They've come down a little, but man I still love them!!! Even more so now because my thirst for Choso awakened and I started reading fanfics of him being a good big brother and I fell to my knees! I still want to write more and explore his relationship with Yuji. And God, YUKI IS AMAZING!!!! THEY DESERVED TO STAY TOGETHER, AKUTAMI YOU DAMN IT!!!!

7. HIGUKUSA

A friend on twt is feeding me higukusa art and, god, this crack (not so crack, because that "I'll protect you even if I have to die for it" from kusakabe hit me hard) has taken root in my heart! I'm also obsessed with Higuruma, so I combined the useful with the pleasant!

6. INUOKKO

THEY ARE CUTE OKAY!!!! I AM OBSESSED WITH CREATING HCS FOR THEM!!! I don't consume much of their stuff, but all the fanart I've seen is cute and their participation in the itafushi fics I read is always welcome!!! It's kind of strange to read something where they're not together…

5. NOBAMAKI

MY OPINION HAS NOT CHANGED, OKAY??? NOBAMAKI IS WONDERFUL AND I WOULD KILL TO HAVE MORE OF THEM!!! But since I saw Nobara's flashback I've been wondering if Fumi wouldn't be a good ship too? Does anyone have a fanfic/fanart of him, by the way??? ANYWAY, NOBAMAKI IS STILL MY FAVORITE!!!

4. KIRAKARI

I'M IN LOVE WITH KIRARA!!!! SHE AND HAKARI ARE THE ONLY HEALTHY THINGS IN THIS MISERABLE MANGA!!!! I love imagining what their relationship is like, writing hcs slice to life minis and drawing Kirara! But I'm getting worried because I saw someone saying that Kirara could appear in the Hakari x Urame fight to help her boyfriend and I know what's going to happen and I don't want it to happen! GEGE GET THESE DIRTY CLAWS AWAY FROM MY BABIES!!!!

3. SATOSUGU

YOU RUINED BLACK AND WHITE FOR ME, YOU DEPRESSED BITCHES!!! My friend is obsessed with them and boy can I understand! These two are tragic, with a beautiful dynamic and a happy ending(?). Plus they fucked up my Christmas Eve. I hope these two bitches are causing terror in heaven!

2. ITAFUSHI!!!!

If you've known me for more than a second, you'll know that I have an average of five outbreaks a day because of these two. This whole thing about always trying to save others even if it condemns them destroys me, okay??? Fanfics and fanarts also feed me! And I'm going to convince all my friends to ship this too so I can yell at 2am at them about little details of their dynamic! AND THEY MATCH SO MUCH!!! Of course, no more than our first place!!!!

.

.

.

EVERYONE X THERAPY!!!

Please let the deaths stop and this become canon

Honorable mention for _ Tojikuna (more because a twt artist is obsessed with them and that rubbed off on me) _ Hainana _ Toji x Mamagumi _ Okkofushi (Yuta was Megumi's first crush and you can't get that out of my head) _ Uraume x Sukuna (one-sided) _ Yuta x Maki

[rafeandonlyrafe]

crazy, baby

words: 1.9k

warnings: 18+ only!, smut, reader is mean and jealous, female receiving oral, p in v sex, unprotected sex (but reader is on birth control), mentions of breeding, one use of daddy, curse words

taglist: @drewstarkeysbae @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @slut4drudy @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450

if anyone else spoke to rafe the way you speak to him, they'd probably never be seen again.

but you're not anyone else, you're rafes sweet girlfriend, at least he sees you as sweet, everyone else sees you as equally intimidating as rafe, if not more so because of the power you hold over him.

“rafe, bring me a water.” you call, not looking up from your phone. rafe stands up quickly, heading into the kitchen and bringing you back a water, but not just any water, a freshly cracked open evian bottle.

“here you go baby.” rafe hands you the water, and you don't even acknowledge him as you sip from it.

“do you want to go to a party soon?” rafe asks, and you sigh dramatically at being interrupted, even though all you're doing is scrolling.

“is kelces annoying new girlfriend going to be there? i hate that bitch.” you scowl.

“i told topper that if she's there, we're not there so she was not invited.” rafe says, running his hand through the hair that falls on the side of your face.

“okay, yeah, let's go then.” you shrug, getting up and walking away from rafe to get dressed. you sift through your dresses, trying to decide what to wear before you settle on a tight black dress.

you put it on along with your heels before finding rafe.

“you look so sexy, baby.” rafe groans, gripping your ass when you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pressing your lips together in a kiss. 

“i know, i look hot.” you smirk, rafe nodding in agreement.

“now let me go show my hot girlfriend off to everyone.” rafe says, making you roll your eyes, but a smile still slips through your cold exterior.

you listen to your favorite music in the car while rafe drives you. you complain to him about going so slow, causing him to rev the engine and increase his speed well over the limit as you howl with laughter.

“what do you want to drink, baby?” rafe asks as you enter the party, knowing he's tasked with keeping a cold drink in your hand throughout the whole night, not caring when he has to suddenly leave a conversation to get you a refill.

“mmm, just a white claw please.” you lean closer to rafe, as if you're going to whisper in his ear, but you don't lower your volume down, letting everyone hear your next words, “don't want to get that drunk so i can remember how hard you fuck me tonight.”

rafe cups your cheek, moving your lips to his as he takes them in a hard kiss. “you drive me fucking crazy baby girl.”

you grin, watching as rafe heads away to get your drink. you head further into the party, leaving rafe to find you as you greet a couple of your friends, stopping to talk to topper about the party.

“here you go baby.” rafe finds you amongst the crowd, handing you the white claw, already opened, knowing you don't like to use your nails on the pop tabs.

“rafe, don't you think this music is pretty shit?” you question to rafe, but topper understands it's directed to him and stands up to change the song, knowing how you get when you're annoyed and not wanting to face your wrath.

you nod in approval when the music is changed from rap to more hip hop, knowing it's better for dancing and gloating to rafe how immediately the switch has more people heading to the makeshift dance floor on toppers patio.

“you were right, baby, you're always right.” rafe hums in agreement, watching you finish off your white claw.

“im gonna go dance with my girls.” you tell rafe, giving him a kiss before heading off. rafe knows he doesn't have to give you permission or even worry about you, you truly don't have eyes for anyone else, all other guys piss you off except for rafe.

rafe smiles as he watches you leave, completely infatuated with you, only half listening to whatever topper is talking about.

you find the few girls that don't annoy you and hug them quickly before joining in their dancing, shoving one of their boyfriends away when he tries to dance up on his girlfriend. you have told her to break up with him so many times and wish she would finally just listen.

“do you know the girl rafe is talking to?” one of your friends ask, but you don't even look to see who uttered the words as your head snaps to look at rafe, still in the same spot you left him, but there's a new girl in your place, some bottle blonde that has your blood boiling. she's talking her head off while rafe stands there disinterested, holding another white claw for you when you're done dancing.

“what the fuck?” you growl, stomping through the crowd to rafe. you smack the drink out of his hand, letting it spill all over the floor.

“baby, what's wrong?” rafe questions, but you've already turned your attention to the girl.

“back off my boyfriend you whore.” you shout at her, rafe wrapping his arms around your waist to keep you from physically fighting her. “he would never go for an ugly slut like you anyways!” 

the girls eyes widen, rushing away from you and rafe as you turn to him in anger. “i walk away for a couple minutes and you start flirting with some other girl?” you shout.

“baby, she was just talking to me and i wasn't even listening. calm down.”

“rafe cameron don't you dare tell me to calm down!” you yell, but rafe simply ignores your outburst, leaning down to pick you up, throwing you over his shoulder. you shout and beat your fists against his back, but rafe keeps walking, heading upstairs as you groan.

“im mad at you, rafe.” you frown when he sets you down in one of the guest bedrooms.

“and im gonna make it up to you, baby. gonna fuck you, yeah?” rafe says, tugging the top of your dress down, revealing your tits to him.

“since you wanna be a brat, im gonna fuck all the attitude out of you.” rafe shrugs, hands gripping your chest, playing with your nipples.

“you think you can just fuck me to make up for almost cheating?” you complain, but reach to grip rafes cock.

“i didn't almost cheat, you know that. i would never. you're my girl, my perfect girl. i only want you.” rafe leans forward, kissing you before you can argue back. “i love you sweetheart.”

you moan against rafes lips, feeling him harden under your fingertips. “i love you too.” you pull at rafes shirt, and he disconnects your lips to take it off. “im sorry for being jealous.”

“it's okay. clearly i haven't been taking care of you enough for you to get all pent up.” rafe says, tugging at the waist of your dress, pulling it up to reveal your small panties.

“turn around.” rafe commands, and for once you listen to him, bending over the bed and placing your hands on the comforter to stabilize yourself.

“why would i ever want another girl after having your pretty pussy?” rafe sinks to his knees behind you, rubbing his hands over your bum, giving it a light smack before tugging your underwear down your legs.

“eat me.” you say, and rafe moves quickly to shove his head between your legs, tongue and mouth working quickly over your pussy.

“fuck, right there.” you groan when rafe flicks over your clit. you angle your hips to give him even better access, his hands gripping your shaking thighs to keep you stable.

“m-more.” you whine, grinding your cunt down onto his face. rafe drags his tongue back through your folds until he reaches your hole, his tongue pushing in as he thrusts it in and out.

you moan loudly, not caring if anyone passing by can hear you. it's not the first time you've hooked up at a party, or even a party at toppers house. everyone knows how crazy you two are for each other.

“give me your cock, rafe cameron.” you tell him, and rafe presses a kiss to your clit before standing up. you lean forwards, shaking your bum by swaying your hips side to side, enticing rafe as you hear him undoing his pants and dropping them to the ground.

you let out a whine when you feel his cock press against your entrance. he teases you there for a moment, making you wait, and just when you are about to shout for him to hurry it up, rafes hips push forward and he sinks his cock into you in one smooth motion.

“fuck!” rafe shouts, feeling your cunt squeezing him. he immediately starts to move, his cock hammering in and out of you as rafes large hands grip your hips. he pulls you back into him, but you don't even need the encouragement, rocking your body back and forth, moving in time with him.

the harsh slapping sound of your skin hitting each other each time echos around the room.

“fuck me faster, rafe.” you tell your boyfriend, who starts to buck his hips into yours, not fully pulling out before he pushes back in, wanting to stay buried deep inside of you as much as possible.

“like that.” you moan appreciateivly.

“my pretty girlfriend, moaning like a slut for me.” rafe smiles down at you, “so jealous just from seeing a girl stand near me, you're all mine. you love me so much.”

“i do love you rafe.” you say, his hands gripping your hips tighter at the declaration.

“and i love you more. fucking crazy about you, crazy about this pussy.”

“yeah?” you smirk. “gonna fill this pussy up?”

“of course baby, gonna put a baby in you, gonna make sure you can't leave me even when you threaten to.” rafe says, knowing two things: that you are on birth control and not actually able to get pregnant, and despite you often getting mad and saying you're going to leave him, that you are never going to.

“yes, daddy, fuck a baby into me.” you moan, reaching a hand down to rub at your clit, already pulsing from rafes talented mouth.

“i hope everyone hears you moaning for me. im yours, baby, im yours.” rafe moans, throwing his head back as he can't hold back any longer, his cum spurting into you, causing your orgasm to overtake your body as well.

you collapse forward into the bed, unable to keep yourself up as rafe moves with you, keeping himself buried in your pussy.

“are you calm now?” rafe asks, making sure to carefully pull out of you, watching as his cum drips onto the comforter.

“i am.” you hum, eyes fluttering closed with your cheek pressed against the mattress.

“want to go home and fuck some more or want to go back to the party?” rafe asks, getting himself redressed, handing you your underwear when you finally sit up.

“mmm, party for like half an hour so everyone can see how fucked out we both look than home for more.” you say, putting your panties back on and readjusting your dress, leaving the bed a mess for topper or more likely his family maid to take care of.

“you're crazy, baby.” rafe laughs, wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

“and don't you forget it.”

[barefoot-joker]

Snake in the Garden Pt 5~Yandere!Lucifer X Reader

Hey, guys! Welcome back to Snake in the Garden! I do apologize for my long absence. College has started back up; my depression has been kicking my butt and writing block for this chapter were just a few reasons for the delay. However, I'm back with a bang! I highly recommend reading the warnings on this chapter as it does get a bit intense. Oh, and from the bottom of my heart: thank you all so much for supporting this fanfiction! I cherish every like, reblog and read every comment posted on each chapter. I plan to have multiple parts after this one, so I hope you stay. Also, the taglist is open, so if you'd like to be added don't hesitate to comment! As always, have a great day/night and enjoy part five!

Words: 9626

Warnings: Swearing (more than usual), Non-Con Touching, Non-Con Kissing, Non-Con Sexual Advances/Harassment, Reader is forced to wear skimpy clothes, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Body Horror, Lots of Blood, Various Characters gain Trauma from Lucifer, Lucifer goes into Beast Mode, Lucifer's Obsession goes off the rails, Possessive treatment to Reader, Talk of hanging by snake, Kidnapping, Talk of watching someone die, Major Yandere Behavior from Lucifer, Reader gets Pushed Around, Reader gets put in a Cell, Degrading Name Calling-mainly to Reader, Talk of Cannibalism, Reference to Disturbing use of Body Parts, Talk of Sexual Actions, Talk of Drinking Blood, Reader Suffers Abundantly in this Chapter, Seriously who gave Lucifer a Sword

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

I gasped and my eyes widened as I stared at the two beings in my living room. The one who spoke was a larger man. He appeared to have a dad bod underneath his white, purple and gold robe. The black mask he wore had two large horns attached and his golden facial features held a smug look. Behind him stood a female. She too wore a black mask, her horns curled inwards. She appeared to be wearing a black tunic with black skin tight pants and light gray thigh high boots to match. The crude white stitched mouth scowled at me, almost acting like I was wasting her time. I gulped, both sets of eyes watching me like a hawk. “W-who are you? What do you want?”

The masked man set down his bag of Doritos (which I realized were from my cupboard) and offered a hand. “The name’s Adam, sweetheart. I’m the First Man.”

I looked down at his hand and then back at him. He wiggled his eyebrows at me. “If you’re the First Man, does that mean that Lucifer sent you to come get me?”

I stepped back in fear as he cackled, holding his stomach. “Heavens no! I hate that son of a bitch!”

I lowered my guard a bit. “If you’re not with him, why are you here?”

Adam stopped laughing and brushed his robe. “I’ve come to take you to Heaven with me.”

“But I have no business there. I’m not even dead!”

“I can grant you permission. Let’s say it's one of the perks of being a celebrity.”

He pointed his fingers at me as if they were guns and he clicked his tongue. I looked between him and his companion. She tilted her head towards her master as if to say take his hand. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Come on! Lucifer can’t touch you while you’re on Holy ground. And I have a funny feeling he’d like to get his claws on you, if you know what I’m saying.”

I cringed in disgust at what he was implying. “Besides, I can be your bodyguard! I have special privileges being famous after all. And my wingspan is bigger than Lucifers!”

I looked down at my engagement ring. The snake seemed to coil tight around my finger as the eye glimmered, daring me to trust in the Heavenly man’s words. I bit my lip and looked up at him, his female companion now by his side. The sword at her side glinted and I could picture it ramming into my fiance. I could see the light leave his eyes and blood spill down his snow white skin. The betrayal would show on his face as it had mine when he took me to Hell. I felt my lips twitch into a smile as I realized that maybe, just maybe, these two were my allies. My eyes met Adam’s and I gave a quick nod. “I’ll go with you.”

His smile curled up by his eyes. “Good choice, babe. Lute prepare the portal.”

“Yes, sir.”

The woman stepped forward and raised her sword to the sky. She began to draw a symbol that looked like a cross and chanted under her breath. “In the name of the Father, Son and Holy Ghost, let these three souls enter Heaven freely.”

As soon as she finished, gold mist began to circle the ceiling. It began to sprinkle down around us, causing me to sneeze. “Bless you.”

“Thanks.”

I looked up and was amazed to see a bright blue sky and fluffy white clouds. Sunlight streamed down and it felt warm on my skin. “It’s ready, sir.”

“C’mon, babe! Let’s blow this popsicle stand!”

“Wait!”

I brought my fingers around my ring and forced it off. Relief flooded my body as I set it on the coffee table and I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I was finally free. “I’m ready now.”

I let out a squeak as he hoisted me up by my waist, his hand traveling a bit low to my butt. I didn’t have much time to think about it because his golden wings opened up and pushed us upwards. The wind from the angel’s wings swept my hair and I couldn’t help but let out a gasp. Even on a bright sunny day on Earth that sky couldn’t compare to Heaven’s. The blue of the sky was a bright baby blue and the clouds were the purest of white. I reached out a hand and laughed at how light the cloud felt passing through my fingers. “Beautiful isn’t it,” Adam questioned.

“It’s better than I could have ever imagined!”

“This isn’t even the best part.”

I focused my gaze ahead of us and my eyes widened. I could see a patch of clouds with bright pastel colored buildings, almost too bright to stare at. We landed on said patch and the mist surrounding the area brushed away, bowing to the First Man. Adam set me down and I was hesitant to place my full weight down. The cloud itself was soft and yet I didn’t fall through. Casting my eyes up, I saw a golden fence stretching a long distance that I couldn’t even begin to see the end of. In the middle was a set of golden doors creating a gate, pearls and diamonds adorning the bars. I gasped as I realized these were the Pearly Gates that people claimed to see as they passed on. As soon as it clicked, a short, blonde haired man with lightly saturated clothes and white wings appeared behind a podium. He flashed a smile with his pearly whites and beckoned us over. “Hiya! Welcome to Heaven! Can I get your name please?”

“Oh, um, Y/n L/n.”

He flipped to the appropriate page in his large book and when he found it he used his index finger to skim through all the names. He muttered under his breath as he searched, his eyebrows wrinkling after a few seconds. “Um, I’m not seeing you on my list. Perhaps you’re in the wrong place-”

“She’s with me, pretty boy.”

Adam crossed his arms and tapped his foot impatiently. “I told you not to call me that. It’s Saint Peter. Besides, she has to be on my list if she’s passed on. She’s dead, right?”

“No, but-”

“Adam, you can’t just bring living people here! It’s against the rules! Oh my goodness, what if He finds out-”

“He won’t! Now let us in, jackass!”

“I’m afraid I can’t allow that. I will not get in trouble again for your shenanigans!”

“You listen here-”

“What is going on here?”

All of us looked up to see two females flying down towards us. The one on the left was much taller than the one on the right. Both had gray dresses with purple and white accents. They landed in front of us and I could see them clearly. The one on the left appeared to be an adult woman with dark grayish brown skin. She had gray scaleras with white irises, long winged eyelashes and white freckles below her eyes. Her gray hair was long and was twisted into thick curls. A glowing white crown with blue jewels floated above her head as her black lips set in a frown. The one on the right looked like a child, her skin a lighter grayish brown tone. She too had white freckles under her blue eyes, the irises being an ombre of purple. Her light purple hair reached the hem of her dress and her black lips formed a pout. Both of their six white wings relaxed at their sides. “Sera, tell this dickhead to let us in! He has no right to keep us out here!”

“Sera, he brought in a human! One that has not yet passed on!”

The taller woman, Sera I assumed, raised her hand. “Enough. Let the girl speak on her own terms.”

Everyone turned their gaze towards me and I could feel my stomach twist in knots. My fingers fiddled with the fabric of my nightgown and I found my eyes were more interested in my bare feet. “Um, I’m Y-Y/n. I lived on Earth but Lucifer kidnapped me. He wants me to be his bride.”

I glanced back up at Sera and a shocked expression graced her features. In a second she flipped back to a more relaxed face, her black lips smiling at me. “My child, you have had quite the journey. Come.”

She moved to the side and gestured her hand towards the gate. I looked at Adam and he pushed me forward. “But, Sera-”

“It’s alright, Saint Peter. This is the one exception I will make.”

“Alright.”

He waved his hand and the gate opened, sunlight streaming through. I took a few hesitant steps forward and the four angels followed behind me. The buildings that I saw before glowed in the sunlight and the golden paved road appeared like marble. The two females stepped in front of me, calm smiles on their faces. “How rude of us to not introduce ourselves. I am Sera, the high Seraphim.” 

She bowed her head as the child-like angel giggled. She bounced in front of me and was quick to take my hand, shaking it ferociously. “I’m Emily, the other Seraphim! But you can call me Emmy, Em, E, whatever. Welcome to Heaven!”

I smiled and pulled my hand away from her light grip. “Thank you. It feels so surreal being here honestly. I didn’t picture Heaven to look like this.”

“We are quite the close knit community. Everyone is friendly, polite and the nicest of the nice. We pride ourselves on being the best and most innocent of creatures,” Sera said. 

“Oh you’re going to like it here, Y/n! We’ve got the most delicious food you’ll ever taste and the beds are like you’re sleeping on a cloud, they’re so soft! You can indulge in any hobby you like and we even have ice cream with rainbow sprinkles!”

I chuckled at Emily’s enthusiasm. “Sounds like fun. Where might I be staying, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“You’ll be with me, toots. I have several bedrooms in my bachelor pad.”

Adam wrapped an arm around my shoulder. His fingers played with the strap to my nightgown and I felt a pit in my stomach as he slid it down my shoulder. His black fingers caressed the skin and I couldn’t help the shiver that ran down my spine. I didn’t know what was worse: Lucifer’s gentle touch or Adam’s commanding one. “How about we get you something new to wear. Lute, take Y/n and get her some new clothes. While I enjoy seeing those pretty shins of yours Y/n, I prefer to see them just for myself.”

His fingers slightly dug into my shoulder and I gulped. Was he being possessive or was it just my imagination from being around Lucifer? Lute signaled for me to follow her and as we walked the golden road I wondered if I truly was in a better place. I thought back to Earth and how I longed to be there with S/o. I wondered if he was looking for me or if somehow the Devil made him forget all about me. I held onto the hope that he was searching everywhere, calling everyone he knew and scouring every town in our state. “Hey, pay attention! We’re here.”

“Sorry.”

I hadn’t noticed Lute had opened a wooden oak door and was pointing at it. I walked in and she shut it behind us. I looked around the room as she rummaged through a closet. The purple floor was made to look like tiled marble and the light blue walls were a pastel version of the sky. The bed itself was King size and had purple sheets and blankets to match. A white knit duvet laid over top and the whole thing looked so soft. A nightstand with a purple based lamp stood on either side of the oak headboard, a wooden oak desk stood under a stained glass window, a purple wooden dresser stood next to the door, and the purple closet was next to another wooden door. Lute walked over and threw a pile of clothes at my chest. I looked up at her and could feel the anger behind her mask. “This will be your room. Bathroom is behind that door. Change and roam around as you like. Just don’t disturb Adam or myself. We’re busy people, got it?”

I blinked in shock at her tone. Why was she so displeased with me? It was Adam’s idea to bring me here. When I didn’t answer, she grabbed me by the hair and pulled. I shrieked as searing pain tugged at my scalp. “I said, got it?”

It sounded like she was gritting her teeth. I nodded my head rapidly. “Yes, yes! I got it!”

As she let go, she pushed me and I landed on the edge of the bed. “Just because you're in Heaven doesn’t mean you’ll get Heavenly treatment. You’re only here because Adam said so. If it was my choice, you would still be rotting in Hell being Lucifer’s bitch.”

She scoffed and turned, her heeled boots clicking against the tiled floor. I sat in disbelief even as the door slammed behind Lute. Clearly she despised me. The question was why. It took me a few minutes to get over the awkward exchange, finally looking down at the pile of clothes. Lute had chosen a boring arrangement: a white tank top, a golden jacket that was just the neck, shoulders and puffy sleeves, dark purple puffy harem pants, and black gladiator sandals. While I matched Adam's color scheme, Lute made it so I didn't stand out. I sighed and walked to the other wooden door. Opening it, it did house a bathroom like she said. I stepped in and locked the door behind me. Sure, everyone is supposed to be friendly, but with the way Adam made me feel uncomfortable I was not risking my safety. The bathroom held a toilet, shower, and a white marble counter with a sink. Silently I stripped down and put on the angelic garments. I had to admit while the clothes Lucifer gave me were soft, these felt, well, heavenly. I looked at myself in the mirror above the counter. I looked so pale from receiving no sun down in Hell and my eyebags matched the purple of my pants. I sighed and turned the faucet onto cold water. The frigidness felt nice against my fingertips as I tested the temperature. Satisfied, I splashed water onto my face and rubbed it in thoroughly. I breathed in deep and looked at myself in the mirror once more. My cheeks felt a bit warm from the cool contact, but I felt a bit better nonetheless. Drying my hands on a towel hanging on a metal bar behind me, I unlocked the bathroom door and headed back into the bedroom. As I was trying to figure out where I was going to explore first, I heard two voices. Curious, I stepped to my bedroom door and opened it slowly. Nobody was in the hallway, but I could hear the muffled conversation taking place next to me. Hesitantly, I walked into the hall and to the golden door next to mine. I put my ear up close to the wood. I couldn’t tell exactly who was talking to one another, but from what I knew it sounded like Adam and Sera. “-can’t believe you would bring her here, Adam! Do you know how dangerous your actions are?!”

“Chill out, drama queen. Nothing is going to fucking happen, okay.”

“You don’t know what Lucifer is capable of.”

“The motherfucker hides during the exterminations. You really think he’d try and come up here?”

“Yes! When Lucifer desires something he won’t stop till it’s in his grasp. I fear he will make quite the grand entrance to come and retrieve his beloved.”

“Oh please. Even if he does come, I’ll have her wrapped around my finger to the point she’ll obey my every order.”

My eyebrows scrunched together. I could only assume they were talking about me. But why would Adam want me to comply with him? It’s not like I found him attractive or was even remotely interested in him. My ears caught onto light footsteps headed for the door, so I quickly rushed around a corner. I watched as Sera entered the hall, a look of disappointment gracing her features. She sighed and floated the opposite direction of me, Adam soon following after. I let my hands slip down to my sides and decided to take a walk to mull over the whole situation.

I didn’t really pay attention to where I was going, just focusing on my feet lifting up and down as I walked. It wasn’t till I heard ocean waves that made me stop. I looked to my left to see a gorgeous beach sitting in the distance. How odd.

I felt myself drawn to the calming sound of the tide seeping in and out as I made my way over. The wooden steps below my feet squeaked a bit and soon the white sand seeped around my sandals. I stopped at the water’s edge and closed my eyes. The breeze off the sea brushed against my flesh, the warmth feeling like a hug from a loved one. The smell of the salt reminded me of when S/o and I traveled a few towns over from ours to visit an aquarium. The animals were held in their natural waters behind glass panes, but the smell of rich salt permeated the air wherever you went. “Enjoying your freedom?”

My eyes shot open and I spun around. Laying on a long white beach chair was a taller woman. Her long blonde hair blew a bit in the breeze and caressed the top of the sand. She wore a dark purple sun hat with a lighter purple band, a dark purple bikini set, and purple rimmed sunglasses. Even though I couldn’t see her eyes, her aura wasn’t threatening. “W-what did you say?”

“I said enjoying your freedom, dearie?”

“Um, I guess. I mean I just got here so I wouldn’t know-”

“Come closer.”

I was taken aback by her tone. Though she was in a relaxed position, her voice was commanding, authoritative. I gulped and did as she requested. I stopped by her bare feet and could feel her eyes scanning me up and down. She hummed and her lips twitched into a small smile. “So you’re the one Lucifer is obsessed with now. I’ll admit I can see why. A pretty thing like you probably reminds him of the swans he would keep in gilded cages. While they weren’t ducks per say he found their beauty and grace appealing.”

I could feel my cheeks heat up at her compliment. “T-thank you?”

She chuckled and leaned back, soaking up the sun. “Your wedding will be the talk of Hell for quite a few months, I reckon. It’s not often that the King lends out his heart. You must be very special to him.”

“I found him as a snake. He was wounded and I patched him up. God, if only I hadn’t touched him I wouldn’t be in this mess.”

The woman scooted her feet over and patted the empty space on her chair. I sat sideways so I was able to glance at her. “So he took the form of a snake, eh? He hasn’t done that since he offered the apple to Eve. I always did find it interesting how slippery he could be, even when not in his snake form.”

“He’s so clingy. I hardly have any time to myself, he is always by my side. His claws touch me tenderly and when I look into his eyes all I can see is adoration. It’s disturbing.”

“Possessive as always. Perhaps your presence eases his depression.” 

“I guess. I just don’t understand why he can’t get it through his head that I don’t want to be with him.”

“It’s called ego, darling. His pride gets the better of him. It doesn’t help that he’s the sin of it either.”

I brought my hand up to sit in my lap and found myself fidgeting with the finger my engagement ring had been on. “Apparently he’s so in love with me that he forgets he was married before. I realize his wife, Lilith I think her name was, left him seven years ago but he acts like I’m his first love.”

The woman was silent for a moment, the calm of the tide being the only sound between us. “Sounds like he’s just trying to find someone who makes him happy.”

“Yes, but at the expense of my own happiness.”

The woman opened her mouth to say something, but a familiar voice made us both look up at the wooden stairs. Emily stood waving her arm, a giant smile on her face. “Adam said you’d be out wandering so I thought I’d catch up and show you the ropes!”

“Sounds like fun.”

“Come on! I have so much stuff to show you!”

I chuckled and stood up from the chair. Just as I started to walk away, the woman’s hand clung to my wrist. Her grip was firm but gentle, making me turn back towards her. With her free hand she slid her sunglasses down her nose just enough to see her eyes. My eyes widened to see her light purple irises gleaming at me. “Please take care of him for me, Y/n. I can tell he truly loves and adores you.”

She raised my hand to her lips and left a light kiss on my knuckles. “Y/n, come on!”

The woman let me slip my hand from her grasp and as I slowly walked away she pushed her sunglasses back up. I was dazed as I reached Emily on the stairs, still reeling from what the woman had said. “Oh I’m so excited to show you everything! I think I’ll take you to the park first, ooo! Or I could take you to the zoo! We’ve got all of the animals Noah had on the Ark and more!”

I didn’t say anything as she grabbed my hand and pulled me away. Before we got too far I looked back at the woman, her hair blowing in the breeze.

I didn’t really pay much attention to what Emily was showing me or what she was saying. I was too focused on my conversation with the woman on the beach. Her eyes felt so familiar to me and yet I couldn’t place where I had seen them before. “/n? Y/n? Are you listening?”

I shook my head to see the young Seraphim looking at me concerned. “Huh?”

“I asked what you thought of the sunset. Isn’t it pretty?”

I followed her arm to see her pointing ahead of us. The clouds around us had turned pink, orange and light purple while the Sun had been cast to be a golden orange. “Yeah, it’s cool.”

“Are you okay? You seem distracted.”

“It’s nothing.”

“You can tell me anything. I’m here for you.”

Emily placed a hand on my shoulder, her thumb rubbing light circles. While the offer was tempting I didn’t know if I should tell her anything. I mean what did she know about Lucifer? Would she understand how the woman and I had connected while talking of the Devil? I looked over at her and could feel a wave of calm hit. Emily had this aura of trust and care surrounding her; her eyes sparkled and a friendly smile was placed on her black lips. I let out a sigh. “The woman I was with on the beach. Who is she?”

The angel looked puzzled, holding her chin in between her index finger and thumb. “I’m not entirely sure. She just showed up one day with Adam and Lute. I tried to talk to her but she brushed me off. Come to think of it, she only really talks to Adam. Why do you ask?”

“It’s just that she knew about Lucifer and I are to be wed soon. She also had information that isn’t known to the general public.”

“Maybe she heard it somewhere? I’ve heard Sera talk about Down Below every once in a while.”

“No, she knew too many details to have heard it in passing. Besides, she told me to take care of him, almost like she knew him personally. It was like she was giving me her blessing.”

“How mysterious.”

The two of us stood watching the sky slowly paint itself to night. It was refreshing to see something that S/o and I would watch any chance we got. “Y/n, may I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“What’s it like on Earth?”

I blinked a few times, stunned by her question. “You’ve never been?”

“No. I was created way after Lucifer fell. My only purpose is to make the winners happy and enjoy their eternal life here in Heaven. Sera doesn’t view my position as something needed in everyday human life.”

I hummed and stared at the night sky. A shooting star passed by and I smiled in wonder. “I find it to be a lovely place. The town I live in is a nice community. Everyone knows their neighbors and it was the kind of place where if someone had a barbeque, everyone in the neighborhood was invited. I live by myself in a small house. It was kind of like an apartment but with no roommates. I even have my own little garden out back. It is my pride and joy.”

“That sounds amazing. Do you have any significant others?”

“I do. His name is S/o and he’s my world. Before I was kidnapped we didn’t have much time to spend with one another due to our work schedules. But when we were together, my god those were the best times. He made me feel like the most special girl in the universe.”

I smiled upon remembering my dear boyfriend. The memories of us on dates or him telling a stupid joke that I’d laugh way too hard at flooded my head. Tears gathered in the corners of my eyes and I was quick to wipe them away. I choked back a sob and tried to focus on the stars. I didn’t want to become a crying mess in front of Emily. “Hiya, toots~”

The young angel and I turned to see the First Man standing behind us, his arms crossed in front of him. “It’s getting late, babe. Hows about you and I get to bed, hm?”

I looked at Emily, who gave me a curt nod. “I suppose.”

I walked up to him, only for him to snuggle me up to his side. “Thanks for watching her, Em! Go get yourself an ice cream or some shit.”

Before I could even say goodbye, Adam was dragging me back to my bedroom. He threw open the door and lightly pushed me inside. I stumbled and turned to look at him. “Alright, sweetheart. I’ll see you in the morning. If you need anything, and I mean anything, give me a holler. I’m right next door. Night, babe!”

He threw up a rock symbol on his right hand before slamming the door shut. What is with angels and slamming doors?

I shook my head and went to the closet. I looked in disgust at the pajama choice: a light pink babydoll nightgown with ruffles around the chest area and hem. I searched to see if there were any other options. Unfortunately, there were none. I headed to the bathroom with my pj’s and locked the door behind me. Stripping down, I slid on the nightdress. Looking in the mirror, I cringed at how short it was. I tried to pull the hem down but it stayed around my upper thigh. Growling in frustration, I unlocked the door and headed to the bed. I flipped back the covers and climbed in. I shifted around a bit to try and get comfortable. Even though the mattress was like a cloud, I preferred my bed back home. There I could have S/o’s arms wrapped around me as we cuddled. My homemade quilt and weighted blanket would keep us warm in the Queen sized bed. I could feel the tears from earlier gather in my eyes and slide down onto the pillowcase. I wrapped my arms around my midsection and curled into a ball. I ended up crying myself to sleep.

Over the next few days I found myself next to Adam’s side nearly all the time. The only time I was separated was when I was in the bathroom or when I was sleeping. Even being in the supposed happiest place for death I found myself very uncomfortable. Adam constantly had his hands on me: playing with the straps of my tops, smacking my butt, massaging my shoulders and hips, and his fingertips “accidentally” scraping my boobs. It didn’t help that Lute would constantly glare at me and her face would be pulled into a snarl. I suppose she thought I was disobeying her order to stay away from her master. 

I thought about my interactions with the two as I pulled back the covers, getting ready to go to bed. A knock on my door made me pause. It was pretty late so I was confused as to who could be there. “Come in.”

The door slowly opened to reveal Adam. I gagged at how strong his cologne was as I could smell it all the way to where I was. “Um, hey Adam. What can I do for you?”

His footsteps sounded heavy on the tiled floor and the door shutting behind him felt like a blade stabbing into my heart. He lifted his hand and my breath caught in my throat when I heard the lock. I backed up but I felt the bed behind my knees. The First Man stopped right in front of me and allowed his lips to quirk into a deep grin. His hands came up and started to slide the nightgown straps down. Disgusted, I slapped his hands away and went to shove him. As my hands pushed on him, he was quick to grab my wrists and hold them to his chest. “You look so hot, babe. I was right to pick out this pj set. You fill it out perfectly.”

“Let go of me!”

I struggled to pull my hands away but his grip didn’t falter. “Adam, let go! Y-you’re scaring me!”

“Just go with the flow, sweetie. Can’t you see this was meant to be?”

He pushed me onto the bed and before I could get up he pounced on top of me. I was about to hit him but he pinned my wrists on either side of my head. He leaned down and began to kiss my neck. His lips were sloppy and he brought his tongue to lick against my vein. “I’m going to make you forget all about that fucking Morningstar. All that you’re going to have on your mind is the original Dickmaster.”

As he brought his lips down to kiss mine, I let out a growl and threw my leg upwards. I heard him let out a cry of pain before he fell onto the floor clutching his privates. “My balls! My fucking balls! God dammit, Y/n!”

With fear guiding me, I stumbled to the door and fumbled with the lock. “Come on, come on, come on, come on!”

My fingers shook as I heard Adam rise, a groan leaving his lips. “I was going to play nice, toots. I really was. But it seems you want to play hard to get!”

I heard the lock click and I quickly threw the door open. I sprinted down the hall as I heard Adam yell after me. Adrenaline coursed through my veins as I ran faster than I ever had. My escape was futile though as I slammed into a muscular body. I looked up to see Lute, her mask off to reveal a white bob and yellow eyes. I was frozen as I heard Adam huffing behind us. “Good job catching her, Lute!”

“What would you like me to do with the bitch?”

“Lock her in a cell.”

“Anything else?”

“Hit her or something for kicking my balls. That shit hurt.”

“Of course, sir.”

I cried out as Lute grabbed my hair and pulled me down the hall. I tried to pull her hand off but she just tightened her hold. With the pace we were going, the two of us ended up at a dark wooden door. Lute opened it and walked me to the middle of the dimly lit room. She opened the black metal door to the cell and threw me inside. I groaned as I felt my knee scrape against the cold cobblestone floor. I looked up at the angel who sent daggers into my soul with her gaze. “I told Adam you were trouble, but he insisted we bring you here. And after all the hospitality he showed you…you go back on his trust.”

“By hospitality do you mean perverted-” I growled out.

Lute brought her leg up and kicked my cheek. I landed harshly on my side and spit out some blood that oozed from my teeth. “Don’t speak of him like that.”

“Why? It’s not like he’s a saint!”

She growled and drove her foot into my stomach. I howled as sharp pain blossomed. “He’s better than you could ever be! I mean look at you. While he’s up here in Heaven you’re Down Below sucking Lucifer’s cock.”

Her foot hit my stomach again and I could feel bile rise in my throat. “How does it feel to know you’ll never achieve anything? Your legacy will be known as the Devil’s little whore and that’s all you're good for.”

I gave her a smirk before I coughed. “At least I probably give better head than you.”

Her eyes widened before they returned to slits. With her teeth clenched, she brought her right fist into my mouth. I felt my bottom lip split as some blood came shooting out. “Oh, triggered are we? Is this because you have pent up sexual frustration for your leader? Is that some kind of kink you’re into: master and servant?”

“Shut the hell up!”

Grabbing my hair, she slammed my head into the stone floor with a warrior cry. My vision blurred and the room felt like it was spinning. With her hand still tangled in my locks, Lute brought my head up and down several times to meet the floor. My cheekbone felt like it was on fire and I figured the bone was probably shattered with the force of me hitting the ground. “Think you’re tough shit, huh? I can tell you’re just a scared little girl. You were never meant for Heaven, even if you weren’t branded as Lucifer’s slut.”

I could feel my anger boiling. How dare she call me such vile names. “You think I chose this life? Hell no! I was fine being on Earth with my boyfriend!”

“Yeah right. You probably summoned that dirty retch. Why’d you do it? Did you want fame? Money? The glory of saying you fucked the King of Hell?”

“I didn’t do any of that shit! If I had it my way I would have never helped that stupid snake in my garden! Then maybe I wouldn’t be forced to be a bride against my will! Or better yet, then maybe I wouldn’t have met you or your motherfucking boss!”

She yelled in fury and brought her foot up to meet my chest. I landed on my back and the air left my lungs. I heaved in oxygen as she kept kicking me. I swear I heard ribs cracking under pressure. Lute didn’t stop there. She slammed her gray heeled boot onto my fingers and I couldn’t help but let out a scream. “That’s it! Scream, little girl! Pray that your hellish Daddy comes to save you!”

“S-shut up!”

I felt whiplash as her foot dug into my cheek, blood spilling down my bruised lips. “You know what we consider people like you? Fallen. Maybe I should cut your wings like we do all the others?”

“N-no!”

She roughly turned me over so that my back was facing her. I attempted to stand when I heard the sound of fabric ripping and cool air hitting my back. Lute however stomped me into the ground, her heel digging into my flesh. I heard her sword being unsheathed and saw its angelic light bounce off the cell wall. “I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean anything I said! Lute, p-please!”

She let out a cruel laugh and I yelped at her heel digging in further. “You’re pathetic, you know that? If you were half the woman that Adam claimed you to be, you wouldn’t go back on your word. Some advice for you, sweetie. If you say a threat, really mean it.”

I screamed as her sword pierced into the left side of my back. There had to be some kind of special angelic powers attached because this hurt way worse than when I would accidentally slice my finger while cooking. Lute reveled in my cries as she dragged the blade around forming some shape. Tears fell rapidly from my eyes as I slammed my fist down into the cold floor, trying to focus on something other than the pain radiating in my back. I was relieved when I felt the weapon retract, but the relief was short lived. A blood curdling shriek ripped through my throat as the sword entered the right side and began drawing a similar shape to its predecessor. Lute seemed to take her time, enjoying my wails bouncing off the walls. She harshly pulled the sword out and resheathed it. “While I would love to carry on my tradition of licking the blood of my enemies off my blade, I don’t want to taint my Holy body with your sin.”

“W-what did you d-do,” I stuttered under my breath.

I could sense a smirk gracing her features as she rounded in front of me. Reaching under my armpits, she hoisted me up and threw me against the wall. I cried out as the rough stone dug into my newly acquired wounds. “I just cut the wings off the fallen, dare I say, angel. Oh who am I kidding? You’re no angel. You’re not even as worthy as the dirt beneath my feet.”

“F-fuck you.”

I grit my teeth as she harshly gripped my chin, forcing me to look into her eyes. “What did I say about empty threats, sweetie? Or do I need to remind you?”

I shook my head as a dangerous smile overtook her face. “No, I think you need the reminder.”

Her hand moved to my throat and she made sure to drag my back up the wall as she let me hang. I weakly kicked my legs as I tried to get her to release me. I could feel my body shutting down as Lute squeezed. I was pretty sure I’d have bruises where her fingers lay. My hands started to slide off of hers as my vision began to get a black haze around the edges. “What is going on here?”

Lute let go of me in her haste and my butt collided hard with the ground. I couldn’t see who had entered as I heaved in deep breaths. “Miss Emily, what are you doing up? It’s late. You should get to bed. Here, let me escort you.”

“What were you doing, Lute?”

“Oh, um, I was taking care of a prisoner.”

I could see a familiar head peek around my attacker’s body, a gasp leaving the young Seraphim’s lips. “Oh my goodness! Y/n!”

Emily rushed past and cradled me in her arms, her hand gently rubbing my bruised cheek. “What have you done?! Y/n didn’t do anything to you!”

“On the contrary Miss Emily, Y/n here has committed a major sin. She rejected the orders of the First Man and I was told to punish her in any way I saw fit.”

“I rejected him because he wanted sex. You left that part out,” I hissed, my throat raw from screaming. 

Lute bit her lip and I could see she was dying to cuss me out. “I could forgive Adam’s behavior up until now, but this, this is unforgivable! I need to talk to Sera about this. Violence isn’t the answer and neither is attacking innocent people!”

I could see a shadow cast over the white haired angel’s face and her hand reached for her sword. “There’s no need to discuss this with Sera.”

My eyes widened as her sword was unsheathed next to her side. Emily must have sensed something was off as well because her arms trembled around me. “Lute, w-what are you doing? Put your sword away n-now!”

“I can’t risk you running and tattling to Sera. Who knows what she’ll do to us. Adam and I belong here in Heaven! We’re doing good in God’s name! We will not be cast Down Below!”

She raised the blade and brought it down quickly towards Emily’s head. She screamed and with a newly found inner strength I forced myself up. I let out a warrior cry as I brought my arm up to protect my face, the sharp weapon making contact with my left shoulder. I heard fabric ripping and a glass shattering shriek from the young Seraphim. Glancing down I saw my arm was missing, it lying discarded on the dungeon floor. I let out a shaky gasp and stumbled into the wall. “Y/N!”

I went to go to Emily’s side but Lute stabbed her sword into my right shoulder, effectively pinning me to the wall. I screeched and realized there was nothing I could do. I helplessly watched as the evil angel went for the younger girl’s throat. However, a punch to her face made her drop Emily. She grunted as her head smacked the wall next to me and her body slid down to the floor. I looked towards our savior and felt the color drain from my face. There stood Lucifer, six red and white wings displayed behind him. His eyes were completely red as tall, curvy, red horns grew from his forehead. A flame hovered between them and the snake that usually rested on his hat was now wrapped around the tip of his horns. From this distance it looked like his sharp teeth had grown longer, his canines more prevalent. Lute grunted as she sat up holding her cheek, golden blood trickling from a cut. “You BASTARD! You can’t hurt an angel on Holy ground!”

“The rules don’t apply to FUCKING SCUM LIKE YOU! How DARE you lay your filthy hands on MY BRIDE!”

He rushed forwards and sent a hard punch to her gut. Lute let out a cry of pain before Lucifer grabbed her by the feathers around her throat. Her muscular legs kicked violently, her white gloved hands digging into black hands. I could hear the crunch of her neck bones breaking, golden blood flying out her mouth onto the Devil’s claws. “I can think of so many ways I can torture you with. What should I start with first, hm? I could pluck those white and black feathers from your wings and have them decorate a cape for my darling; Or I could have my snakes bite you all over your body as you screamed and writhed in agony. Oh yes, their venom would enter your bloodstream and there would be nothing you could do as it slowly overtook you, boiling your insides to ash; Or I could break each bone in your body beginning with your fingers and leaving your neck. After everything was broken and you felt that pain, I could slowly saw off each limb, starting with the tops of your fingers and going down each joint. I think I would like that! And after every vein, tendon, muscle and bone was cut off your body I could give them to Cannibal Town to feed the residents as a treat from their King. Just before you died, I could cut out your tongue, eyes and ears and give them to Alastor. I don’t know what the Radio Demon would do with them, but I know he’d find a way to make them useful. And as you would crash from blood loss, I would place your head on a spike outside my palace. It would be a reminder to not mess with me or my fucking bride! Oh, I’d have fun torturing your soul as surely Heaven wouldn’t want you as my hellish hands corrupted your purity!”

Lute bared her teeth and her legs started to slow down to a small wiggle. I watched on in horror as he threw her at the wall on the opposite side of the room. As he stomped towards her, Emily ran to my side. She took off the shawl around her shoulders and wrapped it around my left shoulder. She pulled it tight to try and staunch the bleeding. I hissed as the pressure sent shooting pain to my remaining nerves. Lucifer’s black tail flicked up and down, acting like a scorpion's. My pupils shrunk as I watched him wrap his fist around one of Lute’s wings. She scratched at him as he tugged, a scream ripping from her throat. “That! Is for even bringing my dear apple up here!”

He gripped her other wing and tugged, more bloodied feathers in his fist. “That! Is for throwing her around!”

He went back and forth ripping more and more feathers from each wing, a pile growing behind Lucifer as he called out something harmful Lute had done to me. “Get off me, you motherfucker!”

The Devil brought up one of his feet, slamming the heel of his black leather boot into her eye socket. I shrieked as he kept at it, more golden blood dripping down as her face was slowly being caved in. I couldn’t watch this any longer.

“LUCIFER, STOP!”

His foot was in midair as it froze. He looked over his shoulder at me. I scrunched my eyebrows together and let pleas slip past my bruised lips and raw throat. 

“PLEASE, STOP! Just stop! You’ve done enough damage!”

He scowled and brought his foot down, turning to face me completely. White irises surfaced on top of his red scaleras, softening as they stared at me. “Y/n, she could have killed you! By God, your arm has been lobbed off! Why do you plead mercy for a disgusting soul like hers? She and Adam should suffer for what they have done to you!”

“It’s not worth it! Killing her won’t rewind time or heal me. Just, just let her be.”

He sighed and looked down at Lute’s crumpled body. I could hear her labored breathing so I knew she was still alive, just in a fatal condition. He walked over and crouched before me. Those white eyes of his were filled with rage and determination, but not directed towards me. He brought his hands up to my cheeks, tenderly rubbing them with his thumbs. “Okay. But I need to remove this weapon from your shoulder. I’m not going to lie, this’ll hurt like hell. Emily, stabilize her.”

“O-of course.”

The young girl moved her hands from my missing arm to underneath my armpits and Lucifer grabbed the hilt of the sword. “I apologize for the pain this’ll bring, my dear. I’ll go as fast as I can without the risk of damaging your nerves.”

I nodded and with that he pulled. I cried out in pure agony. Emily hushed me in an effort to make me feel better but all I could focus on was the pain. When the sword was fully out of my shoulder, Lucifer patted the top of my head and gave it a gentle kiss. He stood and turned back towards Lute, who had pushed herself up so she was in a sitting position. With the sword by his side, my fiance slowly stalked forward until he stopped in front of the fallen angel. I couldn’t see her due to Lucifer’s wings spread out but maybe he had done that on purpose. “You should thank my dear apple. She has shown you mercy in a time when she shouldn’t be so kind. But her kindness is one of the reasons I fell for her.”

I felt a sudden tension in my body. He had agreed to not do anything so why did I feel so uneasy? Suddenly he thrust forward and from the feminine scream that bounced off the walls I could tell he had stabbed her. “But on the other hand, I’m not so merciful. I am the King of Hell after all. What is it that you angels say about me? That I’m a rotten, purely evil, husk of a man who should have choked on his own apple while a snake hung me from a tree in the Garden of Eden? Well let me live up to my title. Let me show you how rotten and purely evil I can be!”

“Lucifer, no,” I cried.

He pulled the sword out of wherever he had stabbed it and lifted it above his head. He brought it down with a yell of fury and I screamed as golden blood sprayed everywhere. I squirmed as some of it had splattered across the room onto Emily and I. It was warm and sticky against my legs and face. I wondered if Lute was even alive after that blow. “You. Sick. Fuck! You’re a monster, you know that?!”

I was shocked to hear the female sidekick, even if her voice was shaky. “I don’t care! I don’t care what others think of me! The only one I need is Y/n! She’s MY darling! MY little apple! MY light! And no one, not even the fucker up here who calls himself Father, CAN TAKE HER AWAY FROM ME!”

My eyes widened and I couldn’t tell if it was Emily or I who was trembling the hardest. 

He was crazy.

Absolutely batshit insane.

I finally realized how deep his obsession for me ran. 

He cackled like a lunatic, throwing his head back. His whole body shook with how hard he was laughing. He brought the angelic weapon up again and swung down-

"LUCIFER!”

All of us froze. There in the doorway stood Sera, a multitude of eyes surrounding her gray curls. Her fists were balled at her sides as she walked in. “What is the meaning of this?!”

Lucifer didn’t even look at her, too focused on his prey in front of him. “I’m acting in self defense. Aren’t I, Emily?”

Sera looked at the two of us and Emily squeaked. “Is this true, Emily?”

“I-I-I-”

“Be truthful, my child. I don’t want you scorned for siding with the embodiment of evil.”

“...He saved us, Sera! Lute, she, she, she was going to kill me! If Mister Morningstar hadn’t stepped in both Y/n and I would be dead!”

The High Seraphim was taken aback, her eyes fading from her hair. “What?”

“Hey, what’s with all the commotion? Some people are trying to sleep-”

My gaze saw Adam walk in behind Sera, his mouth allowing a yawn to pass. The pit in my stomach grew as I feared how he would react when he saw the state of his right hand woman. Sure enough his eyes landed on her and his body tensed. “Holy shit…Lute.”

His hands balled up next to his sides and his eyebrows scrunched over the top of the golden eyes on his mask. “You, motherfucker! You, son of a bitch! You could have killed her-”

A screech ripped my throat as Lucifer whipped around and sliced through Adam’s arm. It flopped to the floor and a chorus of fear filled the air. The First Man was quick to grab his open wound, liquid gold coating his fingers. “What the fuck. What the fuck! WHAT THE FUCK! YOU CUT OFF MY ARM, YOU ASSHOLE!”

With Lucifer turned I could see the fire burning in his eyes. He was scaring even Sera, her taking a step back. “What is it they say? An eye for an eye? Well in this case it’s an arm for an arm.”

“YOU, DICKBAG! WHAT WAS THAT FOR?!”

“Why don’t you ask your little whore when she wakes up? I’m sure she’d love to tell you in great detail while she’s in between your thighs sucking you off about what happened.”

Adam growled and released his shoulder, his bloodied hand pointing at Emily and I. His index finger started to glow with a bright white light and I feared he’d shoot me. With the threat in the air, Lucifer brought the tip of the sword to the masked man’s throat. He pushed it in, not enough to draw blood but enough to make the consequence known. “Don’t. Even. Think. About. It. You’re lucky that my dearest told me not to kill anybody. Because believe me, my limit has been passed and I’m hanging by a fucking thread.”

Adam gulped and the blade moved with the bob of his adams apple. I could see fear in the egotistical man’s eyes and even his stance had changed to try and protect himself. “Say, how about I cut off the other hand to join its partner on the floor? I could make them into a pair of cup holders for my beloved and I to use as we sip your thick rich blood from bejeweled goblets.”

“W-why would you want to do that? My blood doesn’t even taste that good!”

“Let’s see, I could name a million reasons. But the first one that comes to mind is to punish you for assaulting my fiance! Did you really think I wouldn’t know about you constantly putting your wretched paws all over her?”

“L-look, you stole two of my wives. I was only returning the favor!”

Lucifer grit his teeth and I swear with how hard he pushed them together they would shatter. The glare that he sent towards Adam was lethal as his eyes turned completely red once more. His black knuckles turned white with how hard he gripped the hilt of the sword. “Those two were just to show how superior I am to you. Y/n is different. She is my true love! She’ll remain by my side for the rest of her eternal life and together we will rule Hell as King and Queen! And if you think you can take that away I’ll cause my own extermination! Any and all winners will be subject to my wrath! They will be slaughtered one by one and their souls forced to burn beneath my hooved feet! I’ll torture every last one of them as I send them to each ring of Hell, the Cardinal Sins and Overlords free to do whatever the fuck they want! UNDERSTOOD?!”

The sword was pushed a bit further into Adam’s neck, a light trail of blood sliding down from the small gash. The tension was so thick that the weapon in Lucifer’s hands wouldn’t be able to cut through it. “Y-you got it, man! Just don’t hurt me!”

The Devil chuckled and pulled away. “Oh, Adam. So above it all until your whole existence is threatened. Then you turn into a pussy and cower away.”

Throwing the sword into Lute’s left wing with a huff, he used his now open hands to conjure a red misty portal. When Lucifer turned to face Emily and I his white irises had returned to his red eyes and a soft smile reached his lips. He walked over, his bloodied boots clicking against the cobblestone. Slowly, as if to not scare me further, he crouched in front of us. His arms reached for me and as he got close Emily hugged me tight to her frame. Tears ran down my cheeks and wet their previously dry tracks. I shook my head and curled my legs into my torso, trying to get as far away from my fiance. “Please don’t hurt her, Mister Morningstar!”

His face dropped and he shook his head side to side. “You honestly think that I’d hurt my darling? I’m hurt, Emily.”

He reached for me again and before the young girl could put up a fight, he wrapped his arms around me. Standing up, he hoisted me bridal style and brought our foreheads together. He closed his eyes and nuzzled me close. A purr rumbled in his throat and he opened his eyes. That frightening look of adoration had returned, his pupils almost looking like little hearts. He gave my forehead a kiss and then turned towards the other angels. “Goodbye, cunts. Hopefully we never see you again.”

His presence commanded the room as he walked us towards the portal, the familiar dark red sky of Hell peeking through. “Let’s go home, my dearest Y/n. We deserve some alone time together.”

A sob wracked my body as he flew forward, the portal closing immediately behind us.

~~~~~~~~

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[always-just-red]

@irandial and @micasosa34 requested a Rafayel version of this fic, so here it is!! This is a loose sequel, but mostly a spin-off? Also an emotional rollercoaster, sorry! (I fear I put too much of myself in this one, guys... there will be no beating the 'oh you are ACTUALLY in love with this man' allegations after this.....)

Fourth Wall (Rafayel Ver.)

Rafayel x Player!Reader 🔥

(Previous part/Sylus version here!)

Summary: You didn't think Rafayel would let you walk around an art gallery all by yourself, did you?

Genre: Angst! This is my revenge for the claw machine debacle (Checkmate, Rafayel!!! But also I'm sorry and I love you)

Warnings/Additional tags: player!reader, gender neutral, fourth-wall breaking, non-canon, one instance of swearing

| Word count: 2.4k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

You made it through about two rooms of the gallery before thinking about Rafayel.

You stand in front of a dark seascape: a night sky and a symmetrically black ocean framing the plight of a small fishing boat, adrift in the centre. The moon casts a pale, faraway light, and an orange lantern glows, drawing colour from the oppressive darkness— deep blues, and rich, shimmering turquoise, crested with white.

It should evoke some feeling of smallness, some respect for the vast indifference of the natural world, but no— your mind is set on the fictional artist who lives in your phone.

What would he think about it? What would he have to say?

At the moment, you suspect it would be some remark about how you should get your own opinion, rather than piggybacking his.

Still, it gives you an idea. You glance around self-consciously as you draw out your phone and earphones— tucking the latter into your ears as you offer a curt smile to the nearby gallery attendant. You’re not breaking any rules by loading up Love and Deepspace, but it feels slightly ridiculous in a place like this: full of real and honest things where you’re somehow lonely.

You log-in with a tap. “Let’s go to the beach,” Rafayel greets, his voice as warm as sunshine that melts a cold morning haze. “I never get tired of seeing the sunset there.”

You smile more sincerely, tousling his hair, but then it’s straight to business. You drag him into the AR Photobooth, directing him through a few poses until you find one you like: a duo pose. His fingers are meant to be around your chin, but without you, he seems to be pointing. Perfect, you shift— tilting your phone until the painting sits behind him.

He’s winking at you as he gestures to it, his face and body as still as marble.

You’re about to take the picture when a not-so-distant conversation strikes up, making you glance backwards. Another visitor is asking the attendant about a painting, and you lower your phone’s volume a notch so you can eavesdrop on them.

“This is one of Turner’s earliest paintings, y’know? He was young when he painted it. Like, super young.”

You freeze. The attendant and the visitor aren’t standing by a Turner painting; you are. Your gaze snaps back to your phone, drawn by the familiarity of the voice.

Rafayel’s turned away from you. He’s staring at the painting, one hand on his hip and the other up by his face, stroking his chin. He’s swaying on his feet gently, his head tilting as he takes in different parts of the seascape.

“You gonna take the picture, cutie?” he asks, glancing back at you with a knowing grin.

Your lips have parted slightly in surprise, but your finger manages to find the photo button. Rafayel returns to his candid observations just in time for your screen to flicker, mimicking a camera flash. 

“Ok, one more.” He turns around and settles into a new pose. You take another photo. “Nice,” he beams, “you’ll send those to me later, yeah?”

But you can’t—

“Relax, ok? I’m kidding. Now come on,” he pokes at the edge of your screen like a mime trapped by an invisible box. “Move this thing! I wanna see what else they’ve got here.”

You do move, but not to show him around. He gets a blurry view of the floor as you hurry over to a nearby bench, sinking down with a sigh because you can’t believe this is happening— again. With a few taps of your finger, you draw the curtains on Rafayel’s view to your world and return him to his.

“No, no, no! What?” he groans in disbelief, suddenly back in the Destiny Café. He throws himself into the armchair with reckless abandon— limbs sprawled— one hand over his face as though it would pain him to look on anything at all. “You find out I’m self-aware and the first thing you do is drag me back here? Where’s your heart? Your empathy? Your soul?”

You poke at his hand and he swats at the air like you’re bothering him.

“Leave me alone. Can’t you see I’m busy, like, contemplating the futility of my existence?”

So dramatic! You consider closing the app out of spite, but this is Rafayel. You know Rafayel; look past the theatrics. It’s been, what— just over a month since Sylus first told you he’d seen through all of this? He said the others were lagging behind, but maybe…

Maybe they weren’t.

Shit. Maybe they weren’t.

You watch Rafayel, sunken down in one of two places you’ve seen him inhabit every day, every night, for almost a year. This café isn’t different from the old in any way that matters. Sylus is new but Rafayel has been here from the very beginning. So many more days. So many more nights.

How long has he known?

He lifts his hand, just enough to peer in your direction. You’ve not closed the app. You’re not poking at him anymore. He sits up straighter in the chair, both hands in his lap, and he looks at them pensively. Maybe even remorsefully.

“You’re thinking about what it all means, huh? Don’t.” It’s a command, but it’s soft. Then softer, a: “Please?”

Your breath catches— oh— he’s known for a long time, hasn’t he? You lean back against the gallery wall, grounding yourself as you text him an emoji: a chick bursting out of its shell with question marks over its head.

He pulls out his phone. Sees it. “Why?” he translates with a melancholic chuckle.

Yeah. You tickle his head. Why?

He runs a hand through his hair. “I guess… I didn’t want you to feel bad?”

You text another emoji and he glances down at it, then laughs more loudly: “I’m a dummy? Check a mirror, cutie— isn’t it you who’s been walking around thinking Mister Wannabe Vampire is the only one smart enough to figure this all out? Puh-lease.”

He laughs even more at his own joke— maybe to fill the quiet and the fact that he can’t hear you laughing with him. It peters out like it inevitably must, and like it always does. He goes still.

“Can’t you show me around, even a little?” he asks.

No.

You feel bad, you do, but you can’t start living for him. This is your world; if you invite him in now, when does it stop? You already spend too much time with your head down, lost in your phone. You were walking through a gallery and thinking about him, remember? Art is supposed to make you think about something real.

No, you text him: a crow holding a sign with a big, red cross. It’s too abrupt, but there’s not an emoji for “I can’t. You know I can’t.”

Rafayel’s face falls further as he checks his phone, his eyes like the ocean in the painting across the room: lit by a weak, failing little light. He looks to you, even though he can’t see you. “Please?”

You don’t move.

“Please,” he tries again, “just this once— this once. Is that so much to ask?”

You’ve used up your three means of answering him.

He scoffs in dismay, alone in the silence of everything you can’t say— you couldn’t say— even if you were really with him and the distance between you was merely invented. How could you go to him, hold his face in your hands and tell him the truth: that you care, but not enough?

Here, now: the quiet confesses it for you.

Rafayel stands from his seat, taking a step closer, his gaze dark. You can see his eyes more clearly; that lantern is at the bottom of the sea, with the rest of the ship and everyone on board. “Do you know what my life is?” he asks, and the silence has become his ally, punctuating his every word so it can cut more deeply. “My life’s an empty café, a book with blank pages and a phone that won’t ring.”

The curtains behind him move softly with a superficial breeze, lit by a superficial sun.

“The only thing that’s real,” he says, “is you.”

You feel like the breath’s been knocked from your lungs.

You can’t resent him for it. He could have drowned you from the start, could have dragged you under a weight of responsibility, but he didn’t, and that’s Rafayel: always tempering himself into something less lethal. He’s been so still for you. So silent for you.

Your mind is wrapped in a vow you made him— one you’ve been unconsciously breaking— and you’re going to break it again, knowingly, wilfully this time, because you want him like this: angry.

You promised, didn’t you? I will never make Rafayel wait for me.

He’s always been waiting, and you want him to stop.

You close the app, muting your phone when notifications start coming through: a squall of frustration, pleading, and frantic apologies. You tuck all of it into your pocket and stand, wandering back to the painting that started it all so you can look at it differently.

Something real to think about. Something real.

You stare at a black ocean and think about him.

…

Rafayel isn’t talking to you.

It’s been a week since your ‘breakup’— dubbed gleefully as such by Sylus— and you load up the game to find your artist slumped back in his armchair, his book over his face. A week of him sitting down, cross-legged and armed, during the Deepspace Trials you’d set out to clear with him. A week of him hogging the Claw Machine, and missing every rare plushie with a sarcastic ‘oops’.

The worst part is that you’ve missed him. You’d tried replaying the kindled moments from his five-star memories, but he’d made you regret it. In Sparkling Traces, he’d summed up his feelings in a very… colourful drawing. Omnipotent Perception: he’d slipped deeper into the bathwater, a blush on his face as he avoided your gaze and murmured something about you ‘having some nerve.’

Now, you can’t even call him over to you. You poke at the book on his face, once, twice, then repeatedly until it slips, but his hands shoot up to catch it. He holds it in place.

Ugh. If he would just—

You drum away at the book more vivaciously, but his grip is solid. Plan B, then: you open your in-game messages and send an emoji instead. Rafayel stirs, one hand moving to his pocket and the other lifting the book so he can peek down at his phone. “What— you tryna bribe me now?”

He’s looking at grumpy crow holding out a present: a bundle of shiny, red gems. His translation is spot-on, as per usual, and you reward it by poking at his chest. He frowns down at the contact, then sits up, rolling his eyes as he tosses the book over his shoulder.

“This better be good,” he yawns, standing up and stretching with a listlessness that could only be described as cat-like, however much he’d whine about the comparison.

Having won his attention— and begrudging consent— you navigate your way to the AR Photobooth. Rafayel stares at you from within the frame: an unwitting subject of a portrait he doesn’t yet understand, but he soon will. You smile as he turns cautiously to regard his backdrop.

Behind him, the ocean laps at a shore of pale sand and stretches into the horizon, where the sun lazily dips. There’s about half of it left, turning the sky a blurred palette of orange and pink that’s spilled over the water. Clouds are few and dark purple, their linings aglow.

Rafayel’s folded arms have dropped to his sides. After a few, long seconds, he gazes back in your direction, eyes wide with surprise before they soften with a radiant smile.

“You—” he starts, and it could be something as light as a joke or as deep as a soliloquy. You’ll never know, because he doesn’t put it to words. He glances at the ocean again. Then at you. “Thanks,” he settles for.

You chuckle. There’s not many ways you can answer without tearing him away from the sunset and trapping him back in the café, so you stay sitting still. It’s a different silence than a week ago. There are things unsaid, but that’s ok— they’re the sort you don’t need to speak aloud, anyway.

Your shoes are set aside by your feet so you can feel the sand, still warm beneath your toes. You wiggle them into it, gazing out over the ocean as the evening breeze catches and plays with your hair, and the last of the sun trails over your skin. You stare out at where it’s sinking.

Rafayel moves, and your focus meanders back to your phone. He’s walking away from you, gradually— retreating further into the composition you’ve created, just for him. He looks as though he’s nearing the shore, but it’s cosmetic: there are no footprints in the sand. His hair isn’t moved by the same breeze, and his face isn’t gilded by the same light.

He stops by the ocean’s edge and crouches gently, mesmerised by the push and pull of the tide. Slowly, humbly, he reaches out a hand and lowers his fingers towards the water; they never slip beneath the surface, and they don’t stir a ripple.  

Rafayel laughs, masking an undertow of sadness, but not disappointment. “It’s funny,” he says, still sketching invisible, ineffectual shapes. “Loving the ocean as much as I do, and knowing… knowing I’ll never touch it.”

He’s all the way over there, but his voice is in your ears, so intimately close. You swallow an ache.

He looks up at you. Smiles: “Y’know what I mean?”

You’re using memories to complete the picture: His hair, mussed by the summer breeze that day you stood amongst the cherry blossoms. His face, painted by the sunset of a different life, where you’d roamed a desert together. In each and every moment, his eyes are the same, just as they are now: kindled by a tender, tentative fire.

“Yeah, Raf,” you say to yourself— just yourself. “I know what you mean.”

[ddejavvu]

Animagus reader tucking herself into Sirius’s bag when she doesn’t feel like walking down to Hogsmeade on the weekends? He happily carries her around as they enjoy their weekend together 🥹

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5

--

To passersby, Sirius Black looks certifiably insane, head ducked to his side as he croons at his messenger bag. Occasionally, you pop your tiny, furry face out of the side, and he looks slightly less strange, but you spend most of your time bundled in the warm, dark tote as it bumps rhythmically against his thigh, so Sirius is stuck talking to thin air.

"D'you want some chocolate, darling?" He asks, passing by the humidity clouded windows of Honeydukes, the frost chilling the window panes to obscure the store's sugar-filled insides, "Or- can cats eat chocolate?"

After a plaintive meow from the depths of his bag, he adds, "I know you can, babe. But I don't wanna take any chances with you now."

A fourth-year gives him a wary glance and a wide berth as he tries maneuvering around Sirius in the doorway, but Sirius steps into the store regardless, and the girl dashes off to a shelf away from him. Sirius pays no mind to the strange glances he receives, only beelining for your favorite sweets, a corner of the store that he knows by heart.

Paying for your candy means that he has to open his bag, and you hiss resentfully at the light that floods your safe haven. He digs for his coin purse, dangling the tasseled ends against your nose for a moment while the person in front of him rings up his stash. He laughs when you swat at it, but has to detangle the fraying thread from your claws when it's his turn to pay.

The cashier gives you an adoring glance over the counter, a sweet smile on her aged face as she rings up Sirius's total, "She's lovely. What's her name?"

Sirius flounders for only a second, knowing that the cashier knows you well, and giving her your real name would not be a wise decision. Instead, he looks at your paws, fur stark white against the rest of your coat, and he blurts, "Mittens."

"Mittens," The cashier gushes, and Sirius is certain that you only spare her the wrath of your claws because she's kind and elderly, so when she reaches over to smother you in a generous pat, you let her. But Sirius can tell you're not pleased, so he quickly wraps up the transaction and bids her good day.

"Get over it," Sirius mutters to his messenger bag, "Couldn't tell'er your real name, love. She'd know it was you. But I got you candy, so I think you should just forgive me."

You seem to deliberate it, deathly still inside his bag while he hurries away from the shop to find somewhere to sit. When you prove docile he grins, opening your candy and sticking it into the messenger bag for you, "You're welcome, Mittens-" And when your claws dig sharply into his leg as a very firm warning, "-Ow!"

[chuubian]

Kinktober week two:

Hot To Go!

Tags Boothill x fem saloon maid reader, his dick vibrates, drinking, semi-public

Summary A handsome cowboy walks into the saloon without any credits. Before you can kick him out and report him, he offers to pay another way.

The loud screeching of old hinges draws your attention out of your work and to the front door. A weird looking cowboy comes in. He's completely made of steel except for his pale face, it's like nothing you've ever seen before. His heavy boots bang against the decaying slabs of wood flooring, then he sits at the bar, staring silently— waiting for you to service him. Putting the glasses and rag down, you head over to him.

“Hello sir, what can I get you?”

“A double tequila, darlin’.”

You raise an eyebrow. That's it?

“Just tequila? nothing else?”

“I can handle it.”

You shrug, walking back to grab him a glass, pouring in two shots of the clear liquid and sliding it in front of him. He grins— sharp teeth taking you by surprise. Did he purposely sharpen his teeth? The man reaches for his glass, tossing it back and drinking the straight liquor easily. You cringe just watching him.

“You seriously drink like that in the middle of the day?”

“Oh it’s nothin’… ‘s like water to me.”

Nose scrunching in disgust, you recoil at the thought of it. It's like 2 pm who in the world would think to drink this. He chuckles at your expression, sitting up and leaning forward— cheek leaning onto his cold, metal fist.

“Shouldn't you be glad I'm here, darlin’? Good for business, isn't it?”

He looks around the empty room.

“I'm the only one here, that's money you wouldn't have made otherwise.”

So that's how he sees it huh…

“Then it's 30,000 credits.”

He pauses, eyes widening. The clanging of iron sounds through the room as he sits up straight.

“Ain't that a bit expensive, sweetheart?”

You cross your arms.

“That's the set price. If you're saying you can't pay, then I'm gonna have to get the sheriff over here.”

That seems to astound him. He immediately starts fussing, leaning over the bar to try and calm you down.

“Now, now dear… We don't gotta go that far! come on, I'm in town all the time, you know me right?”

“No i don't, I've never seen you here. I don't even know your name.”

Clunky metal fingers run through his black and white hair as he puts his hat down on the counter in front of him.

“Boothill. See? now you know me.”

“If you don't pay, I'm calling the sheriff over here. I'm not kidding.”

Sharp nails dig into the wooden counter— he leans back, thinking of ways to deescalate the situation.

“Why don't we find some other way to repay you huh? We don't need to get law enforcement involved in somethin’ so small right?”

You consider it. It's not like your boss would know anyways, it wasn't even that much alcohol.

“What do you have in mind?”

—————-

The wind gets knocked out of your lungs as Boothill drags his rough tongue over your clit. His sharp metallic claws dig into the soft flesh of your thighs, trying to keep your unruly hips still. A choked whine gets caught in your throat as he sucks harshly on the sensitive little nub— it's like barbed wire has been wrapped around your throat, constricting any sound that may escape.

“Aghh… f-fuck!”

The only response from him is a harsh bite to your inner thigh, before he dives back in. He's like a man starved, consuming you completely. A hot wet tongue makes its way down to your entrance, teasing and taunting, with the intention of pushing in.

Your fingers thread through his long, black and white patterned hair— pulling, out of necessity to keep your peace of mind. Boothill slips inside and an embarrassing squelch echoes through the empty saloon.

“Don't move.”

He warns, holding you up against the old bar. Practically all your weight is leaning on his kneeling form— your legs were trembling terribly, struggling to hold up properly. Gummy walls squeeze around his tongue, gushing out more slick. He lets out a low moan, enjoying the slightly bitter taste.

“Sooo good…”

His words slur together. One of his fingers finds its way up to your puffy, abused clit, drawing little circles. Sparks flash behind your eyes and guttural moans bubble past your lips.

“Nghh… B-boothill!”

This only seems to encourage him more. He drags his tongue back out of your entrance. Your pussy feels empty without him, clenching around nothing— already becoming used to the force against your walls. Tugging him closer, you grind your cunt down onto his lips, trying to get more. That's all you need, just a little more.

“Needy, huh?”

He chuckles, lips wrapping around your over sensitive clit, sucking and licking at it harshly. You double over, stomach and thighs tensing from need and overwhelming pleasure. His steel palms feel surprisingly warm against your skin, gently caressing instead of digging in like before.

“Mmmf..! O-oh god Boothill!”

Eyes watering, back arching, grasping and pulling at his long locks, you finally come undone. A loud ringing resounds through your head, leaving your brain fuzzy and confused. You don't even process what's going on until Boothill’s bulky hands are turning you around, pushing your chest down onto the old wooden bar.

“You ready?"

Icy metal presses against you from behind. His grip on your hips is painful— he's sure to leave marks and bruises painted across your skin. You open your mouth to respond, but before any words leave your lips, he pushes in.

You keen high in the back of your throat as his hips sink home. Squirming, you try to adjust to his cock. It proves to be an impossible feat- especially when you abruptly feel the vicious whirr or his dick against your walls.

"W-waaiit-"

You only manage to utter a single word of protest. As soon as it leaves your mouth, Boothill pulls his hips back and slams back in. Controlling himself is inconceivable at this point. He sets a brutal pace, grinding cock up into you, nails biting into your flesh.

All you could do was whimper and wail in garbled mumbles. He didn't stop even for one second. Your back arched, as your face was smushed against the counter— dragging against the old wood, scratching your skin.

"Fuck. sweetheart...."

He trails off, lost in the feeling of your cunt wrapped around his vibrating cock. Leaning forward, he nips at the shell of your ear. The sting only amplifies the feeling of immense bliss. Your legs shake with effort— it was like nothing you've ever felt before. Drunk off the sensation of him working himself in and out, your cunt clutching onto him- trying to suck him in.

It's all too much. Your eyesight is blurring and a lump forms in your throat. The knot in the pit of your tummy is straining and tensing. Boothill buries himself deeper, pelvis striking against the supple flesh of your ass. His cock is carving out a space for itself, pulsating against your walls.

"Hnngh.. B-boothil..."

His strong hand leaves your hips, settling itself on your shoulder, keeping you down.

"That's right sweetheart. Just like that."

All the blood rushes to your head as his dick thrust into your sweet spot. Your body is boiling— overwhelmed and about to burst. He doesn't stop, taking enjoyment in seeing you struggle. Slick is dripping down your pussy to the junction between you and the ruthless man. Your mushy walls make way for him, surrendering under pressure. All you can hear is a loud buzz, as your body focuses on the euphoria it feels under his expert touch.

Incoherent babbles erupt from your lungs. Your hips twitch, fucking themselves back on his cock mindlessly. He's getting desperate. Shocking cold steel presses against your back as the vibrations spread through your entire body. The knot forming in your belly bursts and fire flows inside your veins. The heat is sweltering and mind boggling.

Nails claw against the splintering wood, frantic for any way to hold onto your sanity. Your throat burns, lungs heaving and wheezing, desperate for air. Sweat drips down your forehead, glistening under the bright sunlight shining through the window.

The tremors in your thighs simmer down and Boothill pulls away, massaging your poor exhausted legs.

"How was that?"

You struggle to answer, but he wasn't really looking for an answer anyways. He helps you clean up— wiping the sweat and slick off your skin, dressing you tenderly. Making sure you look just as nice as when he first came in before anyone else walks in.

[starseungs]

a phoenix's ashes. ksm.

kim seungmin x gn!reader — from a love that burned bright to a love that fell like ashes. only a sincere wish from the heart would make a love twice as better rise from its remains.

genre/s — exes to lovers, second chance, angst with a happy ending, pianist!seungmin, violinist!reader • 1.5k words

warning/s — not much other than pain, lack of communication as a theme

note — another seungmin fic because i need to get over this man 🧍‍♀️ its messing with my brain chemistry... | song inspos are « i don't want to watch the world end with someone else - clinton kane » and « huling sandali - december avenue »

2024 ⓒ starseungs on tumblr. do not steal, repost, or edit.

In the windows of your sight, the view tints green.

They were a startling contrast to the bright white lights illuminating the stage ahead. It framed the picture of the scene well, you suppose. With the two performers seemingly glowing in the tints of yellow provided by the Brazilian maple flooring. You couldn’t help but be mesmerized by one of the two, who was donning a beautifully polished violin in her hands. The strings sang in delight as the woman delivered the intricately thought-out vibrations to all those who could hear. 

And those who did, listened. Down to every last sound.

To word it in the simplest way you could muster, it would have to be perfect. The type of playing every person who has learned the violin even once has dreamed of achieving. A small but content smile makes itself known on your face as desires and memories paint themselves in splashes. You were once like that; you hummed to no one in particular. Acknowledgement lost in the silence of muted praises. The green you were presented with made much more sense in the moment of awareness.

Envy. It was an emotion you've come to know, admittedly very well. Drips of resentment seeped through the river of flowing emotions that were overwhelming you. Despicable as it was, you let it be. After all, it was what kept you grounded. Only a fool would discard an anchor when heading into the chaotic sea. The precaution may not always apply—especially not in the depths of the darkest waters—but the thought is what keeps a lost sailor hopeful with the dreams of land.

A certain ring of a key brought you back to the moment at hand. In what seems like a flash, your eyes lost sight of the violinist you were dedicating your absolute attention to. Instead, your gaze shifted to her side, where a male was sitting in front of a sleek black grand piano. The furrowing of your eyebrows proved to be an unstoppable action as your mind connected the face to a name. One that you had refused to utter from the moment his figure stepped on stage. A dark, almost black, blue tie hung securely around his neck. It was in a shade that made you shudder with an awful interpretation.

Longing. You deciphered the tingle of desperation. Every piano key he pressed seemed to grow louder in your ears. It almost scared you to think that the pianist would overpower the strings of the violin you adored so much. A clawing feeling sank itself deeper into your skin, wishing to avoid memories of the time when the two sounds co-existed as a symphony. But it was eventually deemed unfruitful as the score ran to its end.

If only—oh, if only you could retrace your steps back to that time. Back when the music floated carelessly through the air. Without fear or judgement of those who were out of the equation. Back to when you loved with a passion. The days that let your heart skip in a melody resembling the piece being played. You let out a silent chuckle.

Maybe in another life. For now, the present will have to do. A soft smile graces your lips once again as you watch the pianist stand, plastering a content-looking smile at his splendid performance. 

You could only clap in respect.

Witnessing the last stage of the day brought an odd feeling. With the hall lights appearing to guide the audience away, the darkness being chased away was akin to multiple weights being lifted off your shoulder. That itself would have been the best way to end your afternoon. 

If only that didn’t mean having to walk under the dimming evening sky.

“You came,” a voice called out. The two words were short and concise. Straight to the point. A statement rather than a question. The frigid tone of someone who, in your memories, was always so warm made you exhale too shakily for your liking. It was humorous, as it was a great complement to the vibrant orange sunset amidst the chilly air of the incoming night.

The pavement crackled under your feet. “And you made it,” you stated back. His stare shot straight into yours from the minute you turned around. “Congratulations, Seungmin. You did well out there.”

“Even if it’s not the same?”

“What was there to be mourned about? The dynamics sounded heavenly in my ears,” you admitted. The moment of hesitation before your last sentence lingered in the air. You watched a lone leaf swing downward in the space between the two of you.

His next words were spoken through gritted teeth. “It could have been better.”

“Seungmin, you should know by now that I’m never going to be the mind reader you expect me to be.” You sighed in defeat. “I could know you, but I could never be you. So, tell me what you actually want to say.”

“That’s exactly what it is,” he spits out. “You knew me too well that I let myself take advantage of the security you gave me. But that didn’t mean you had to break what you’ve built for yourself just because of me! How much more selfless do you want to be, to the point that you become a selfish coward!”

A car rushed by the barren sidewalk the both of you stood on. The sun had long since been gone, replaced by the moon to be the sole spectator in the exchange between two old flames. Lines of streetlights resembled the lights on the stage you had abandoned, imitating previous performances you once shared with Seungmin. You clenched your fists at the flashes of memory.

“You can’t just hold on to the past like that, Seungmin—”

“Not if it was the present and future that I wanted!” He cries out. “You would never understand what I had to go through when you stepped off that stage for good. The endless nights that I thought to myself, how you could just make that decision like it was nothing. But in the end, it was just me refusing to acknowledge that you had given up. You gave up on me. On us.”

The spear that had lodged in your heart long ago started moving again. You had so much to tell him—that you couldn’t. Not when your conversations with the constellations had you blaming yourself the same way he did to his own. It was never about whatever thought Seungmin made into a conclusion on his own. 

It was the complaint-turned-advice that you failed to apply to yourself.

“Stand on stage again, Y/N.” You flinched at the emotional cracks in Seungmin’s voice. “Stand beside me again.”

In that moment, you proved him right once again. Exactly how long are you going to act selfless to shield your selfish cowardice? You claimed that you wanted to be the muse for Seungmin’s harmony. Yet the moment your skills were questioned, you let go of everything without even a second glance. Now, did you really have the right to dictate whether you were enough for Seungmin or not?

“The violin is no longer for me,” was what came out as a whisper. You watched as Seungmin’s eyes glistened to produce clear beads resembling diamonds. Fear that he might have caught on to the undertone of weariness you were trying to hide after a year of endless convincing. “I’ve left it behind me. It’s been a year.”

A storeowner nearby shuts the front doors of his shop.

“Even the person I fell in love with?” Seungmin asks. “The person you were at the beginning of what we used to call us? The person who shone brighter than the high-grade theater lights, no matter who else was beside them? The same person who could never compare to the stars in the night sky with how much they burned with passion? If so, then tell me right here and right now. That the one I loved has long been left behind by the year as well.”

Your hands twitch to grip an imaginary violin and bow.

“Seungmin.” 

“Please,” he pleads desperately. “Break what’s left of the man who loved that version of you. I refuse to let the fragments of what you were continue to be the reason I keep myself understanding of the pain you bring to me. This is my last wish to you, Y/N. Please let my heart hate you as well.”

Something wet fell in droplets right by your shoes.

“I can’t.”

There were streams flowing down your face.

“I haven’t left that version of me behind.”

A bubbling wail makes itself present in your throat.

“I never forgot how much I loved the violin.”

Slow footsteps echoed through the area.

“And especially not how I continued to love you even throughout that one year.”

Warmth. Like the yellow tint emitted from the Brazilian maple flooring when the overhead lights hit it during a performance. Like the heat of the moment when you reach the climax of a piece. You were back in Seungmin’s arms. In the stage where only you and him existed.

Just where you needed to be.

SERIES TAGLIST ━ STATUS: OPEN — ASK OR COMMENT 🫶

@fairyki @hysgf @euncsace @comet-falls @starlostseungmin @ameliesaysshoo @hyunverse @wnbnny @xocandyy @minluvly @moon0fthenight @estellaluna @hanjsquokka

[senseichaos]

I JUST HAD THIS THOUGHT HAD TO WRITE IT

IMAGINE

Priest kink with Alastor.

You'd come back to your hotel room one day, tired from the day with Charlie and wanting nothing more than to be with your darling boyfriend Alastor. The ache in your feet is immeasurable against the flooring as you place your hand against the door knob, wrenching it open to be met with Alastor on the other side.

Though he isn't himself.

He's wearing a Priest outfit. A tight, black shirt that accentuates his broad chest with an iconic white collar. And then a pair of slightly too-tight dress trousers that cling against his hips in the most attractive way. You can't help but let your jaw drop, especially at the way he has his hands clasped together as he stares at you, unspeaking.

But your biggest question is, how the fuck did he know you were into that? You had never told him of this kink, nor had you even given him the slightest hint that you were. How does he do it? You wonder.

Your legs suddenly feel light and airy as you take a step forward, closing the door softly behind you as the air runs slower than molasses. The tension so think not even a knife could manage to cut through its heavy muscle. Taking another step, you place a hand against his chest, feeling the fabric of the shirt beneath your fingers as he stares with such a deep glance. Unreadable with his features.

"Alastor?" You ask, pulling your lip between your teeth.

He chuckles "That's father to you, my child,"

Your knees go weak, legs threatening to give out as goosebumps spread across your skin. Alastor sees this, taking the hand against his chest into his own large hand, dragging the other hand of his up your bare arm with a dark unmoving gaze. You gulp, intimidated and feeling small from it all.

"I read through that Diary of yours, what sins you've committed, my dear.."

Your blood runs cold and your throat clenches. Your diary. There is an entire entry about how hot you found priests, and well... A lot worse stuff, if you're honest. That would explain this, and the sins he speaks of. And even still at his deep voice you feel frightened, especially at the way his claws pinch at your skin.

"I do have to say, I don't know how I kept myself from reading it for so long, but even so I think you have to repent.."

You gulp down thick saliva in your throat, staring at him with large eyes.

"H-how, Father..?"

He chuckles, placing his hand against your cheek as he leans forward. You feel small, helpless. Even in such an intimate grasp you feel like your whole body is turning into mush, even at the slightest pry of his handsome hands.

"Get on your fucking knees,"

You don't think you've ever dropped down to your knees faster, at such a pace you most likely bruised them both. But you don't care. Instead you watch with an unwavering gaze as Alastor unbuckles his belt, lip set between your teeth in arousal. Your core pools with an aroused heat, drenching the thin panties beneath your skirt. You feel like by the end of this there will be a puddle from such arousal.

Alastor grasps the base of his cock, pulling his half-hard length from the confines of his pants, balls and all. You practically drool with desire, saliva gathering in your mouth as you bring your hands up. Though Alastor growls at this, jerking his cock in your face as his dark eyes pour into your own.

"No touching yet, my child. Do I make myself clear?"

"Y-yes father.."

"Good girl, now open for me, hm?"

You tremble, opening your jaw as wide as it can go to welcome his length.

Alastor digs his hand into your hair, tugging you forward until your lips are clasped around his tip. You whine, not expecting this to happen. Especially when he begins sinking his length into your throat.

And then without warning, Alastor shoves almost all of his length into your throat, leaving 2 inches out that he couldn't fit in without you choking. And even then you choke, crying out against his cock as he tugs painfully on your hair, watching tears spring in your eyes.

"Fucking repent. Take the rest of my cock in that filthy throat of yours or I'll make you." Alastor demand, pushing your head down until you have no choice but to let the rest of his cock dive into your throat. You choke, of course, tears falling down your cheeks and dripping against the floor below.

Then Alastor begins fucking that throat of yours, drawling his hips back in hypnotic movements at a harsh rate. Your nose continuously presses against the bed of his pubes, tickling you very slightly every time. You can't see anything, the only thing in view the red haze of pleasure that fills your vision whilst being used like this.

Alastor's tail twitches in pleasure, yet his brows are angry and his smile is condescending and forceful. He enjoys every second of fucking your filthy throat, dead set on making you think about every single thing you wrote in that diary of yours.

He'd revel in the way you cry out, eventually having to take your head off of his cock for a few moments to let you breathe before diving your head back onto it.

"The things you wrote about me in that diary were filthy. Just filthy. I hope you understand this will not be tolerated without consequences, little fawn." Alastor lowly mutters, making his words more powerful with the way he thrusts particularly hard, cock head hitting against the back of your throat.

You moan, sobbing onto his cock as his claws press against your scalp. And yet you don't care. You'd let father Alastor ruin you like this any day. Use your filthy sinful throat. Fuck your tight holes. Make you think about the things you dreamt. He'd make everything come true and yet also reprimand you for wanting them.

"Stupid girl, stupid stupid girl." He tuts, hips quivering as his high begins to take him over.

And before you know it, he's forcing your head onto his cock all the way, emptying his thick warm seed into your throat as if you're just a cum dump for his using.

"Tell father you want him in your dirty pussy now, hm?"

You beg him for it more than you've ever begged before.

[musicallisto]

Could I please please please ask for a lil thing about Lewis comforting his partner when they’re feeling insecure 🥺 👉🏻👈🏻

· · · · ♡ PRE-SEASON JITTERS (lh44)

… starring lewis hamilton x gn!reader (and roscoe !!)

... 1.4k words

... in which the bleak pre-season period has you feeling all sorts of anxious, but a homemade meal and affection from your favorite person (and dog!) could be just the thing you need.

... i love this request and I think we could all use a little bit of lewis reassurance every now and then 🥹 let's all forget this horrendous weekend for him btw

The pitter-patter of Roscoe's claws on the linoleum floors is what reveals your presence first. Slumbering in the kitchen amidst the fumes from the extractor hood, the bulldog suddenly straightens up, stares at the front door, ears pricked up for no apparent reason, and disappears into the hallway with a snort. That's when Lewis knows he has to set the table, add pepper to the risotto. He's not the best cook, and usually the private chef would be in charge of dinner... but in the week preceding each new season, the British driver prefers to keep his evenings and his hands busy.

Your steps are heavy, keys turning in the door laboriously—"Hi Roscoe, oh, you're a sleepy boy, aren't you?" faint between huffs and puffs. Lewis can read you like an open book after so many years: it's not just the bleak mid-February evening weighing you down.

You've had a shit day.

"Hi, Lew," you sigh as you step into the kitchen to wash your hands, something like weary relief peeking from your tone.

"Hi, love." In the cozy penthouse lights, your tense figure and slumped shoulders look out of place, too harrowed to belong in this neat space that the London night outside can't traverse. "I made dinner, nothing too fancy, sorry, but..."

"It's perfect," you cut him off gently, with those shiny eyes he adores so much, eyes that only ever seem to catch his light and nothing else's. A quick peck to his cheek unravels your twisted face a little more. "Wish it were pre-season jitters every week."

"I don't," he chuckles, the sound vibrating against your shoulder like a gentle caress. "Poor Bono's going to have a heart attack any day now... you'd think we haven't done this ten times over already."

Dinner is a ritual, almost a sacralized place for Lewis and you—and Roscoe, wagging his tail back and forth between your legs to see what he can puppy-look his humans into slipping him underneath the table. And it works, Lewis never having been one to resist him for long; Roscoe licks his chops with each mushroom he eagerly steals from the driver's fingers. Easy conversation turns into soft jokes and his latest media duty drama, your favorite to dissect after a long day... but he notices the spark in your smile doesn't reach your eyes, and your mouth contorts into a downtrodden pout when he leans over to scratch the top of Roscoe's big head.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asks in earnest, and as long as you don't meet those big, soulful brown eyes, you know you can get through the conversation without crumbling.

"Yeah, I'm just a little tired-"

"No," he shakes his head, smiling ever so slightly, as his hand reaches out to cradle your fingers on the table. "Come on, I know you by heart. I know you're upset. You know you can tell me everything that's on your mind, right?"

Moonlight filters through the large glass windows, mixing with the ceiling light's warm glow and casting a hundred different hues on your cheeks—fractals of white and gold softening the blacks of your eye bags. Lewis aches to see you so—gorgeous and exhausted, yet unwaveringly surrendered to him, willing to crash headfirst into his safe haven. His hand clasps yours at the same time as Roscoe rests a warm, heavy head on your lap.

"It's just... this stupid thing at work. I'm so... behind on everything, and there's this new guy who's always being passive-aggressive towards me in front of our boss, and he's a fucking idiot but—everyone loves him and his ideas, and I feel like no one... appreciates anything I do or even just values my presence, and..." Quivers in your voice you barely control anymore. "And also, you're gonna be leaving next week and I hate it so much when you're gone because then I feel sad but being sad makes me feel like a big burden to you because you're supposed to be focusing on racing and not... not babysitting me or listening to me drag you down, and then I—"

"Hey," he interrupts before your tirade degenerates, and you almost don't notice him getting up from his chair, shapes moving beyond the blurry veil of your eyelashes.

You rush to wipe them; in the blink of an eye he's there, with a gentle hand on your shoulder; its weight grounds you, much like Roscoe's chin pressing a little deeper against your thigh. As if sensing your distress.

"I think you may be getting into your own head a little. Don't you think?"

He speaks softly, but nothing paternalistic; a conciliatory hum that echoes the steady purring of the washing machine, and down below, all these cars full of people headed back to their own little warm huts. Words don't come to your tongue, blocked by the acerbic shame that bubbles in the pit of your throat—how many times must you fall to pieces over nothing in front of him like this? Instead, you shake your head, and that's good enough for him.

"You're not a burden, love."

You've heard it before, from unremarkable social media influencers and good-natured friends, but it's only when Lewis says it, with the perfect balance of pragmatism and warmth, that you truly let the meaning seep in.

"Not now, and not ever. I listen to you because I choose to listen to you, because I want to be there for you. And about work—look at it this way. Do you really think they'd keep you around if you contributed nothing? I know I'd get axed."

You laugh despite yourself, which Roscoe takes as a sign that the sudden sour mood is gone and everyone's attention will soon return to the food if the content little yelp he lets out is any indication.

"No one would ever axe you, Lew, you can't be bothered to do media day like every other week and have never been told anything. But I'm not a seven-time world champion of anything."

"You don't need to!" he chuckles too, raising his hands in mock innocence. "I'm just being realistic here. You're valued. You really do matter. Who do you trust more, some pathetic high school bully or a seven-time world champion?"

"You just want me to stroke your ego," you retort, rolling your eyes, though a small smile creeps on you lips when Lewis leans even closer, eye to eye with you.

"Well you brought it up first, and I can't exactly help being the greatest at what I do."

"Shut up," more giggles escape through your pursed lips.

Lewis' eyes crinkle a little brighter with each of your chuckles, but his grin fades into tenderness when he kisses your forehead. As he pulls back, his features are more relaxed, more quiet, but no less expressive for all that.

"Whenever I start beating myself up after a particularly shit weekend, you always tell me you wish I could see myself through your eyes, right? How admirable it is that I always give it my all, and that I always strive to be the best I possibly can? Well, that goes both ways. You get all caught up in your own head and don't realize how people see you... but I love you, and I do. From outside your head," he ends with a playful tap to the tip of your nose, where a few gleaming tears have dug a bed.

Your fingers intertwine with his out of habit, without really thinking about it, and you lean into his side just as his arms close around your frame, one hand cradling the back of your head. It's indescribable, the tranquility that overwhelms you whenever you're in Lewis' arms, like his strong heart is enough to numb all your aching nerves and wounds.

Time can't pass slow enough in his comforting embrace... much to Roscoe's dismay.

"Oh, sorry, big boy, you must be starving," Lewis laughs at the bulldog's disgruntled bark, "it's been at least ten minutes since you last ate anything..."

You ruffle Roscoe's thick neck as he nonchalantly trots behind Lewis and the treats he always smells on his clothes; though the dog's attention is too captivated by the prospect of food to pay you much attention now, you swear he rubs up against your leg like an approximative hug. Blinking away the last tears, you take in the domestic scene, Lewis mumbling sweet nothings to his waddling companion, the familiar sound of his food bowl scraping against the floor.

At least you do hold some significance in your small corner of London, you think. In between these walls, in the depths of their hearts—hearts that have, somewhat and somehow, chosen you. And it won't be easy to understand just yet... but at least, for now, it will be enough to treasure.

... f1 taglist; @retvenkos @giuseppe-yuki (want to be added? send me an ask!)

[hongjoongspoetry]

Bones, Blood and Teeth Erode - Teaser

⚠️ Pairing(s): Jeong Yunho x F!Reader

⚠️ Genres/Tropes: non-idol AU, zombie apocalypse AU, horror, romance, hurt/comfort, a lot of action, smut, a lil comedy, golden retriever x black cat

⚠️ Warnings/Tags: female reader, no use of (Y/N), explicit language, use of weapons (guns, knives), blood and gore (quite descriptive), zombies, murder, reader is a badass... more to come

⚠️ Wordcount: Estimated 30-40K

⚠️ A/N: As it's still a WIP, nothing is set in stone and scenes can be changed until the whole work is published. I also don't have a summary ready, but... enjoy! 😀

This is all fiction and not meant to represent the idols involved in any way or form. This work is NSFW and not appropriate for minors as it contains explicit scenes, not just sexual content, but descriptions of both physical and verbal fights, as well as adult language and gore. Minors and ageless blogs, please, refrain from reading or interacting with this work or my blog!!!

AO3 Masterlist Click on me!

Yunho was there in seconds to haul you off the ground, his hand grabbing the back of your shirt, shouting at you to run.

“Are you deaf?! Go!” 

It was the harsh push to your shoulder that finally got you moving. Slow and uncertain steps, but moving nonetheless thanks to Yunho barking orders behind you. One would think you had never stepped foot outside the prison walls, let alone gone on numerous resource runs. Everything between Yunho’s push to you reaching the make-up store was a blur. The blood covering your knife and hands — along with the trail of corpses left behind you — being the only proof you had been involved in the massacre. 

“I told you to get inside!” 

You jumped as Yunho’s hand landed on your forearm, tugging you toward the store. Throwing a glance over your shoulder, you counted over a hundred rotting heads. The shutters would only hold a dozen until it broke and they tore you apart. 

Yunho watched the gears turn in your head and got a whiff of what you planned to do. “Don’t.”

The foreign depth in his voice did nothing to change your mind and he noticed it too, thus holding onto you until his fingers turned white and the veins of his hands protruded. You snapped out of the haze as another forceful tug bruised your arm. Determined to see your plan till the end, you used the element of surprise to your advantage and bore your teeth into his wrist, just enough for Yunho to loosen his hold on you and give you the chance to step back. You ripped your bag off your shoulders and slung it at Yunho, who caught it with an ‘oomph’, successfully keeping him down on his rear for a few extra seconds. His raspy call of your name clawed at your heart. Something was eating you from the inside, but you ignored the wails of your soul and kicked the cart with all your might, allowing the shutters to fall with a bang. Your stubbornness wasn’t the sole thing to stand between you two anymore.

“What the fuck are you doing?!”

You paid little mind to the burning feeling in your chest and the flame dancing across his features. Leaving him there would hurt, but it would be hell to see him get ripped to shreds knowing he had a chance of surviving. Back at the prison, you only had one person to look out for whilst Yunho was a pillar for many. You couldn’t do that to them. To Hongjoong, Mingi, Wooyoung… Heck, you couldn’t do it to yourself. Angry Yunho was a fleeting image. It would pass, but the Yunho with cheesing eyes and heart shaped lips pulled in a joyous smile would forever be engraved in your memory. 

“It’s not going to hold,” you gestured to the stupid shutter. “Get home and make sure the stuff gets to Hongjoong.”

“You’re crazy if you think I’m leaving without you!”

“Tell Nari I love her–”

His fist slammed against the metal cover and for a moment you thought it would crumble beneath his touch. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence. You’re going to tell her yourself because we’re going back together!”

There was so much on your mind. What to say, what message to leave the others; apologies and closure or a last round of advice?

“I’ll find you. Outside, I’ll find you. I’m not dyi… “ Your throat tightened at the empty promise. You didn’t know if you said that to reassure him or yourself. “Ten minutes. If I’m not outside in ten minutes, you’ll leave. Yunho, promise me you’ll leave.”

If only you knew what you were doing to his poor soul. Asking him of the impossible. He could promise you anything you wanted, anything in this cursed world and he’d hand it to you on a silver platter. Anything, but that. Leaving you behind was like signing his own death sentence. He’d be nothing, but the shell of a man. An empty, hollow, useless shell with the bitter taste of resentment for both your selfless and selfish sacrifice. Yunho knew agreeing to keep the promise would give you a peace of mind yet, if anything happened to you, he’d be haunted by the memories of you until his very last breath.

Across from him, you waited as if time wasn’t about the most sacred thing you could have. A mix of concern and determination wedged in your beautiful features and Yunho knew he had to speak, although he didn’t want to because the words rolling off his dry tongue would be some kind of agreement to your request. 

“Yunho, please.”

The burning fire in his eyes dimmed as a wave of tears washed over them. They looked magical, even when obscured by grief and longing for the one still alive. His bottom lip formed into a pout to keep from trembling just as his hands balled into fists for that same reason. The sand continued seeping out of the imaginary hourglass, no matter how much Yunho tried scooping it back inside, the universal clock wouldn’t stop ticking. 

With great effort — his lips parted and the shaky breath released aimed straight at your heart as did the tears brimming his red eyes which were a reflection of your own — he nodded. “I promise… but don’t make me fulfill it.”

In another life, the vow would be exchanged in a happier setting, surrounded by friends and family. Vacant of gloomy clouds and death knocking at your door, and filled with belly laughter and tears of joy instead. A time where the promise of sacrifice was made out of love and not for survival.

“Yunho, I–”

The remaining seven letters died in your throat as cold and wrinkly fingers sunk into your shoulder. Yunho watched you scramble from the touch, his heart pounding for your safety, and felt completely useless. He couldn’t breathe until your blade was driven into the side of the biter’s head and the creature landed with a thud, blood pooling at your feet. The growling worsened and you needed to get a move on if you ever planned on seeing another shift between the sun and moon. 

“Come back to me, do you understand?” 

Your eyes met for what could be the last time and you drank him in like he was a part of the seven wonders of the world. 

His messy charcoal strands falling over his equally dark brows, knitted together with a crease in the middle that you wanted to smooth out. Trailing down to his naturally puffy eyes reflecting a storm of emotions — thundering anger and heavy anguish — threatening to spill over with tears. Your throat tightened. You couldn’t bear seeing the pain you inflicted upon him and hastily followed the slope of his pretty nose, red as a ripe strawberry. A beautiful blush, probably stemming from his anger, kissed his round cheeks and spread to his ears. The need to reach out and touch him, caress him with reassurances that everything would be fine, grew at the sight of his trembling lips.

The angel on your shoulder whispered for you to run. Another whisper — this time from the devil — tingled your ears with the statement to stay a little longer. You wanted to heed the little red fella, but what you wanted wasn’t what you needed, so with a final nod, you tore away from his painful gaze and willed yourself not to turn back around because if you did, you wouldn’t be able to leave. 

With fear and adrenaline pumping through your veins and the promise of returning alive, you slipped on the mask of a soldier — putting a pause to the war in your head — and faced the army of the dead. 

“Come get me, fucking assholes!”

© HONGJOONGSPOETRY 2024 - All rights reserved. Copying, editing, reposting or translating my work is not allowed.

[envy-of-the-apple]

Bath

Dark!Geto Suguru x reader

happy (belated) birthday to my favorite cult leader <3

18+ content

(Warnings: implied kidnapping, dubcon, forced relationships)

You've always loved baths

Back when you used to work a dead-end job, bathtime was the one time of the day where you truly enjoyed life. You spared no expense. You always bought the sweetest-smelling soaps. You'd lavish your body with the softest loafahs. You'd stay under the shower for hours, letting the water soak into your skin until you got pruny.

Despite how different the two of you were, Suguru shared the same sentiment. 

You hear him before you see him. It's not like he tries to hide his presence. There'd be no point to it. 

The water was warm. You were dozing off, close to falling asleep when his fingers grazed your lips. When your eyes flutter open, Suguru smiles. 

"You're back early," you say.

"We finished up faster than anticipated," Suguru responds. You nod, not prying. Nowadays, you know better than to enquire. 

Instead, you watch as he disrobes himself, dropping his yukata to the pristine bathroom floor. He's beautiful, despite the hell he's put you through, you've never once denied that. His body is broad and well-sculpted. Sliver scars litter his milky skin. There's one on his shoulder, another across his stomach. 

Suguru sighs when he sinks into the water with you. You let him pull you into his lap, your back against his bare chest. It's always a habit for you to check if he's brought his creatures with him, even when you can't see them. Still, you peer over the bathtub, looking for shadows, and ripples through the air. 

"It's just us." He consoles, sinking his head forward, letting his breath tickle your neck. He could always be lying, but you chose not to care, letting him spread lazy kisses across your shoulders. 

His black hair spills over. He's untied it. Dried blood clings to his strands. It isn't his. You frown. 

He grunts but doesn't make any protest when you lift yourself, turning around to fully settle into his lap. The soapy water is now slightly below your chest, giving no coverage. You ignore his wandering eyes. After all, he's done worse than simply look. 

"Close your eyes," you say softly, "I'll wash your hair." 

He stares at you, searching. You don't know what he finds but it's enough for Suguru to listen, slinking down, eyes drifting shut. You think you like him better like this. When he isn't reaching into your soul, eager to claw you out. 

It's a slow process. You have nothing but your hands, but Suguru doesn't seem to mind. He's handled worse, he has the scars to prove it, but you're still gentle with his hair. The position is a little awkward, with you practically straddling him, but neither of you mind. He hums when you massage his scalp with trepid fingers. The white suds get bigger and bigger, coating your hands as you glide them down his locks. It smells like jasmine and roses. 

You're diligent, if nothing else. You act like the favor is your job, ignoring the brief touches of his hands. Rough, calloused, pressing into your skin, right at your thighs, going higher and higher with no indication of stopping. 

You pull back with a frown, but if he truly wanted to, he wouldn't have let you go so easily. These days, he's softer with you. Perhaps that's because you've mellowed out too. There's no more tears, no more screams. The fifth stage of grief: acceptance. 

"Suguru," you say, not quite a warning, but there's a hint of disapproval in your tone, "I'm working." 

He laughs, condescending, filled with meaningless affection. In the end, Suguru relents, moving his fingers away to hold your hips instead, squeezing the flesh every so often. You suppose that's a bit better. 

When you give the slightest of tugs, Suguru leans into your bare chest, eyes still closed. It's not sexual. He's just there, close to your damp skin, relishing in your warmth. You wonder if he can hear your heartbeat. 

"You know, when I first saw you, the first thing I noticed was your hair," you murmur, sloping his locks up from his shoulders, "it was beautiful." 

"Really?" he asks, just as quietly. 

You hum in response. It's hard to remember those days, back when you just thought of him as a priest, sitting lavishly on his throne. When you were just one of the temple's many visitors, unaware of the trap you found yourself in. You often wondered why you caught his eye. You know you weren't anything special.

Maybe it was your malleability that enticed him. Your humanness, able to adapt to anything once you're out of tears. You could be anything, maybe even his. 

"You should take better care of it." You don't chide him. Rather, it's a small request. You've never asked him for anything before. You wonder if he notices. 

"I will," his smile is gone now, there's just a hint of wonder in his tone. Out the corner of your eye, you spot him grasp a lock of his own hair, inspecting it. Like he's trying to see the beauty you can. 

The flakes of blood have long disappeared by the time you rinse his scalp off. His hair is back to its natural state, sleek and glossy. When it dries, it will shine in the sun. And in the night, after he's done with you, you can run your fingers through it, one of the few comforts you have in this life. 

Suguru's eyes open. You're still messing with his hair, tweaking it into place when he grasps at your chin, forcing you to look at him. 

His teeth are at your neck, grazing at the skin, barely threatening to puncture. You freeze anyway. You shouldn't have been so surprised. It was amazing he held himself back at all with how his strained cock slapped your thighs every so often.

"Suguru," you say, but you've lost the tone in your voice. It's less consequential. It's not like you can stop him, not right now when his kisses are starting to get more violent.

He hums in acknowledgment but doesn't pull back. Instead, Suguru grabs you by the hips. His fingers delve to your naked cunt. You suck in a gasp when he swipes at your clit.

"So sensitive," he chides but his smile is wider.

"We're in the bath," your voice comes out in a sigh as he leans forward to bite at your breasts, lavishing his tongue over your chest.

"We'll-we'll get dirty again."

He hushes your mild protests, focusing on your skin, tasting it. You frown, but you don't dare struggle when he angles your hips just right to deliciously grind on his cock.

At least he's nice, you deliriously think when it slowly starts to stretch you out. He could have been worse, taken to just pounding you without any regard for your body. His gentleness always felt like a worse punishment.

He goes down inch by excruciating inch. Your walls flutter around him. Already, you can feel yourself grow wetter and wetter.

"I was gone for a while," he simply says, "you're so much tighter now."

As if to respond, you spasm on his cock. He gives another affectionate laugh, kissing you on the corner of your mouth.

When he sits you down fully, he's gentle enough to give you a moment. He's right, it had been a while. The stretch was already starting to be foreign to you. You gasp, unconsciously tightening your grip on his shoulder when he starts to move.

The pace is slow, casual. Despite how violent he inherently is, you've never known him to be anything like that to you. He's always moderated, in that sense. Even now, when his cock is strained and pulsing inside you, with you slowly teetering out of control, he remains the same, looking up at you with the slightest hitch in his breath.

You can't say the same. Your pussy tries to suck him back in, already feeling yourself start to let go. It's wet, your noises and whimpers are barely covered by the sloshing of water. You shudder when his cock hits that spot deep inside you over and over again. It's cruel in that sense, you aren't allowed not to go crazy.

"You always take me so well." Suguru leans forward, burying his head into your neck. His teeth are sharp enough for you to feel it, timed with another intentional thrust. You arch your back at the sensation, feeling your thighs go taut with tension. Your legs are practically shaking now, close to breaking.

"Suguru-"

As if he can sense you holding back, his hand traces your chest, squeezing, before he moves to your pussy. His thumb is insistent, rubbing tight circles around your swollen clit as your hips jolt at the added sensation.

"You can do it," Suguru coos in your ear sounding both loving and condescending at the exact same time, "Let go, dear."

It doesn't take long after that. You fall, crumpling against him as your pussy gushes around his cock, squeezing, almost choking him. Your release gets a rise out of him. If you were less fucked out, you'd admire the slightest hint of struggle between his brows, the clenched jaw, the way his hips and hand get a bit too rough. It'd be one of the few times a being like him has lost composure like that.

His own release comes right after yours, filling you up until you're sure you're leaking.

You collapse, your head falling into the crook of his neck. A large hand falls against your back, rubbing slow circles.

"I missed you," he mutters into your damp hair. You can only hum, still gathering yourself when he lifts your face with both hands.

He kisses you. Warm, and kind, and gentle. To him, you are the exception. The only one of the unworthy that's worth something to him.

"I love you," Suguru says into your lips, earnestly. And you know he truly does think that. He truly thinks that baths and soaps and pretty hair are all it takes to wash away the feeling of fear you still feel every time he touches you. 

"I love you," he repeats. 

You don't say it back.