#let him keep the creepy yellow eyes

[woundlingus]

I need Sam Winchester ten inches deep in Gabriel sucking on his throat and making that guy whimper and moan because it’s so good and Sam gets a little power high from having an archangel fall apart under him and his eyes shimmer yellow with a long dormant power, or maybe it’s just a trick of the light dancing off the hazel of his eyes, and the last horrifying thought racing through Gabriel’s head before Sam makes him cum is Asmodeus

[currently-becoming-potatoes]

List of words for the computer:

LONG POST- more under the cut

STANFORD- Pulls up a file on Stanford Pines, written by an unknown scientist. It discusses his extra finger and praises his intelligence, as well as calling him the “next evolution in the human species”.

BILL CIPHER- Takes you to the Wikipedia page for the Eye of Providence. Also took me to a Sesame Street video about a Jazzy Triangle and a Square. Not sure what prompted the change.

STANLEY PINES: Takes you to a list of EBay listings for brass knuckles.

FIDDLEFORD: Takes you to the music video for Cotton Eye Joe by Rednex.

SHERMIE: Nothing. I sure do wish we got some lore about Grandpa Pines.

GRAVITY FALLS: The text on the computer reads “never heard of it” and the red light on the bottom turns green.

ALEX HIRSCH: Leads to Google Images for “flannel”. Huh.

WEIRDMAGEDDON: Pulls up an article from the Gravity Falls Gossiper about how nothing happened at all and there was no apocalypse.

DISNEY: Screen reads “rat.gif censored for your protection”

SOOS: Leads to a page of writing from Soos himself, referencing many things (including Tad Strange being gay and madly in love with Woodpecker Guy. Love wins!!!)

DIPPER: Leads to a creepy yellow parchment with a message from Bill Cipher himself trying to trick Dipper into blinding himself by staring at the sun for 13 hours straight! Silly! (Also if you keep clicking on it, the page gets darker and blurrier until it implies we've gone blind)

MABEL: Causes stickers to appear on every available surface. Clicking it enough times leads to message “lab now fully Mabelized”.

WENDY: Leads to a note from Wendy that mentions a way to ward off evil triangles written in the bottom corner of the book.

GIDEON: Makes a web recording of Gideon scatting play. It ends with “I love you forever Mabel”. Please shut the fuck up you little creep.

TAD STRANGE: Plays a video of bread with smooth jazz in the background.

TOBY DETERMINED: Leads to a Google search for a restraining order. Holyyyyy shittttttt

WHO ARE YOU: “I could ask you the same question”

SEASON 3: “Season Two”. I guess that’s that lol

This was about all I could find. Please reblog with anything else you can discover! Thank you, fellow Gravity Falls enjoyers!

And make sure to give some love to all the wonderful folks down in the comments! Many of these answers and tips come from what they've found. I can't list everyone, unfortunately- I didn't expect this post to get popular- but, to everyone who's helped out, THANK YOU.

FURTHER EDITS:

BLIND EYE: Pulls up an optometrist’s eye exam. Each line reads “WKHBOOVHH”. Too lazy to translate atm.

PIÑATA: Bill Cipher getting beaten to death /hj

MASON: A note from Dipper listing several anagrams of Gravity Falls characters’ names. You can check in the comments for the answers.

AXOLOTL: “You ask alotl questions”. Thanks for the pun, Alex, but I’m kind of losing my mind rn

MYSTERY SHACK: Leads to a Google search for Confusion Hill, the real-life Mystery Shack!

MYSTERY: “?”

MONSTER: Leads to several YouTube videos for “There’s a Monster at the End of this Book.”

VALLIS CINERIS: Leads to an analog-horror-esque video of Baby Bill and his parents, who have been blotted out by static, and a voice repeating “WHY DID YOU DO IT” over and over again until you stop the video.

PORTAL: “Portal.exe has been deleted. I bet you could build a new one.”

GIFFANY: You need to put it in multiple times. Several warnings about breaching firewall, followed by a message from GIFFANY saying “SOOS! I still love you!” or smth like that, and then GIFFANY herself briefly appearing onscreen. Trying again after that summons her more. Also lets you download some ZIP files.

DORITO: Summons an image of a spinning Dorito, followed by the most cursed image of Bill Cipher I have ever seen.

GOD: A short video of an axolotl in a tank with a Bill Cipher statue plays. This is Alex’s axolotl, shown in the Book of Bill countdown.

REALITY: “Is an illusion”

FILBRICK: “I’m not impressed”

CARYN: “I knew you were gonna write that”

GLASS SHARD BEACH: Leads to an image of the New Jersey Hell Hole.

ANY CUSS WORD: Pulls up a paper reading “NOT S&P APPROVED. WASH YOUR MOUTH OUT WITH SOAP” with an image of soap below.

MATPAT: Leads to a video of MatPat next to a conspiracy board, holding the Book of Bill. He tells us we’re on our own.

BABBA: Plays an audio recording of Dipper singing BABBA. Not Disco Girl, a different song.

CRAZ: Leads to the Jem and the Holograms theme.

XYLER: See above.

AD ASTRA PER ASPERA: Shows us two new journal pages from Ford and Mabel, studying the Cipher statue. They’re definitely worth the read, I teared up looking at them.

ANSWER: “Question”

QUESTION: “Answer”

SEASON ONE: “Season -1: Antigravity Falls”

SEASON TWO: “Season 1” …maybe scratch what I said about Season 3. Or don’t. Things are starting to damage my brain.

CURSED (got from @slimslamflimflam decoding the candle! Thanks!): Shows two pages talking about the dangers of drawing triangles, with the bottom of the second page showing several drawings of Bill and the words “HE IS COMING, RUN”

THE UNIVERSE: “Hologram”

RIZZ: “Life privileges revoked. Now releasing poison gas.” This response is repeated if you type in SKIBIDI or FORTNITE.

BABY: Shows an ultrasound of a fetus Bill Cipher, captioned “Look at what’s growing inside you! See you in nine months, papa!”

JOURNAL 3: “The Journal for Me”

PACIFICA: Leads to a note from Pacifica calling Bill Cipher “ick” and telling us to follow her on social media under “Platinum Paz”

PLATINUM PAZ: Pulls up an image of Northwest Manor with the llama symbol overlaid and a “NW” logo beneath. There's also a short story beneath!

LOVE: Leads to an audiobook of “The Love Triangle”. Need to read later.

BLENDIN: “The time agent lost and presumed incompetent”. Uh…?

SCARY: Leads to another audiobook of a cheesy Goosebumps-esque horror novel written by Bill himself, apparently.

DIVORCE: Shows you the logo of the bar Bill went to after his fight with Ford… Billford bitter exes confirmed

ROBBIE: Leads to the cringiest messages ever. He’s such a failure I love him

CONSPIRACY: Leads to a video of a man losing his mind over the countdown counting up. I feel so seen. (I have been informed that his name is Charlie Day, he's an actor from It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia and that one meme, he had a quote on the back of the Book of Bill, thanks to everyone who explained that to me, I'm sorry, I'm uncultured)

RAT: “Thurburt’s number?”

BLANCHIN: Leads to a YouTube video on how to blanch vegetables.

TJ ECKLEBURG: “Never mention that name again.”

NOTHING: “Something”

SOMETHING: “Nothing”

BURNSIDE: “Burned inside.” Well… at least we know what happened…

WADDLES: Leads to the pig placement network!

THERAPRISM: Pulls up a sign from the theraprism regarding an emergency situation. The code reads "THE OLD ONE".

SHAPE: Pulls up an article on Plato, triangles, and Ancient Greece. This article is presumably written by Bill.

LLIB and BILL: THIS leads to the Sesame Street video every time.

WEIRD: Shows a video of a frightened Weird Al panicking about being trapped in a computer. Sorry, man...

CLONE: Pulls up an image of Paper Jam Dipper, a warning about not getting him too close to liquids, and an option to print.

TRIANGLE: ")" or "Tri harder."

THEYLLSEE: "Is seeing believing?"

DEER TEETH: "For you, kid!"

LIFE: "Life: 72% complete. Now loading: death."

DEATH: "Life's goth cousin."

PINES: "A good family tree."

OWL TROWEL: A slab of hieroglyphs, translating to an ancient ad for an owl trowel.

SCALENE: "Life form not found." EUCLID has the same outcome.

WELL WELL WELL BEING: Some assorted notes from Bill's Theraprism file. These include his greatest love and fear, his art therapy notes, and notes on his phobias. Three clicks is required to read them all.

BOO BERRY: Offers a poem on the meaning of life! Wow! I feel so enlightened!

LOVE YA BRO: Shows us a doodle from Stan of one of his and Ford's Sea Grunks adventures, and another code on the back. It translates to "Kings of New Jersey." I've been told it lets you download the code as a font.

SORRY: Reveals the repaired Backupsmore photo, with a note from Fiddleford about his and Ford's growing friendship. Fiddauthor fans, we are eating well tonight!

HORROR: Pulls up an image and report on The Always Garden, which is essentially a cheap Italian restaurant hidden in the backrooms.

HOLOGRAM: "Universe."

NAITSUAF: Pulls up a page that looks like it would be from the Book of Bill, in which Bill tries to convince us to sell us his soul. Clicking "ARE YOU READY?" pulls up a contract where we can sell our soul to Bill (with an alarming amount of coded fine print. Will need to translate later). You can print this document out, back out, or sign it right there on the web. Hitting "SIGN" causes the words "PLEASURE DOING BUSINESS WITH YOU!" to appear, and the document to close. In other words, I no longer have a soul.

IMSTILLONYOURMIND: Plays a recording of the ocean, with Stan faintly talking in the background. Poor Ford ain't quite over the divorce yet...

HOTXOLOTL: Pulls up a "MOST WANTED" doc on the henchmaniacs.

SEVENEYES: Pulls up a faded polaroid of The Oracle with text on the back that reads "LEAVE HIM. Escape to dimension *blurred out*. It's against the rules but it's the only reality where you'll be safe from him." The code at the bottom (once again decoded by the powerhouse that is @slimslamflimflam) reads "Set a course for Dimension: R34LITY." Is another Cipher Hunt in the makes? Only time will tell, hehehe.

JUST FIT IN: Plays an old commercial with a few moments of speech in the glitches at the end.

EVEN HIS LIES ARE LIES: Shows a transcript from a therapy session at the Theraprism. Bill discusses his relationship with Ford and cuts off the session when someone brings up his parents.

NOT A PHASE: Shows a Google search for "black hair dye stained an entire bathroom."

PAPER IS BOOK SKIN: Instantly downloads a page of fleshy pink paper with the word "ENJOY" written on it!

SHAVE YOUR GRANDMA: Pulls up a few more pages about the human life cycle.

LIES: Pulls up an image of "The Game of Lies" board game, with a long stretch of text from (I assume) Bill, ending with "LIE UNTIL YOU ARE NOT LYING ANYMORE." Someone has some issues...

SAY BAAAA: Pulls up a neat little rhyme about being Bill Cipher's obedient flock of sheep. The code at the end translates to "Black Sheep."

ONE EYED KING: Plays a video of a hypnotist's spiral, with Bill proclaiming "YOU WANT TO PLEDGE YOUR SOUL TO BILL CIPHER" in the background. There is also morse code that translates to "NAITSUAF", leading to a previous discovery- the soul contract.

TANTRUM: Pulls up a transcript of a spat between Bill and Time Baby.

TITANS BLOOD: "HOOT HOOT! Password please!"

CURSE WITTEBANE: Pulls up an image of a Bill Cipher ouija board.

FORDTRAMARINE: Pulls up several rejected files from Ford trying to convince us Fordtramarine exists.

SUCK IT MERLIN: Pulls up a tapestry of Bill riding a unicorn. The code at the top reads "DAY MARE VS NIGHTMARE."

HEY NERD: Plays a commercial advertising things such as a Bill Cipher calendar, the Scrubba-Bill, a severed hand, and the entire Cygnus-XIII galaxy. Half of the image can be found in the Book of Bill.

DESTRUCTION IS THE FORM OF CREATION: Pulls up a frantic page of notes from post-portal-shit Fiddleford. A sticky note at the bottom has a code that reads "Unreality."

RUBBERHOSE: Plays "The World is Small Ever After for All."

IRREGULAR: Shows us Bill's mugshot in color. The code below reads "No prison or attention span can hold him."

UNREALITY: Offers a guide by Bill on how to become immortal.

GUN: "Oh yes oh yes oh yes they both."

ABUELITA: Leads to a video on vacuuming the walls.

YES: "What's McGucket's favorite soda?"

NO: "Your loss..."

REPEATEDLY CLICKING STAN: This stuff deserves a section of its own, away from the OG Stan stuff. It takes you through several Ebay listings on various Stan-ish items until you get to a page written by Bill about Stan's secret shames. "Ex-wives" further confirms our theory on Stan and Eda's relationship, as well as revealing many other bits of lore. "Fears" is somewhat goofy to be honest. "Secret Shames" reveals that Stan is a fanfiction writer and that his mother is the only member of his family who truly loves him outside of Ford and the kids. "Unreported Crimes" is somewhat goofy as well. "Failed Products" basically confirms that Stan is that world's Alex. "Lowest Moments" is genuinely depressing, and "Darkest Thought". Well. I'm not spoiling it lol. And the bit on "How He Beat Me" causes Bill to get more and more frantic/angry the more you click it! Comedy GOLD!

DIPPY FRESH: Leads to a Reddit post of the Burger King Kids Club.

MEOW: Leads to a TikTok of a man playing the Gravity Falls theme on that cap keyboard.

HELP ME: Pulls up another video of Alex's axolotl and the tiny statue. Rip Bill ig :/

R34LITY: Pulls up several photos of the henchmaniacs in live-action, captioned "They found a new home."

JOURNAL 1: "The journal of fun."

JOURNAL 2: "The journal for you."

FBI: "Your webcam is on. We are watching."

BURNED INSIDE: Shows an image of a charred Oregon Parks badge and nametag on the ground.

HECTORING: Plays a silly little country song!

OROBOROUS: Pulls up two journal pages about Fiddleford buying Ford an axolotl to keep him company, and Bill subsequently telling Ford to get rid of him. There's also some code on the first page that reads "CHONKY BOY." Ford, you wonderful dork.

[thevoidstaredback]

It's always graveyards. Why is it always graveyards? They're creepy as hell and, well... that's it. On the bright side, the Protection Spirits watching the gates recognize him and realize the danger he's in. Well, maybe he wasn't in real danger because the Bats and Birds don't really do the whole purposefully harming civilians things, but they are scary as hell! Chasing him down like a bat straight outta hell- obviously he was gonna run! They cornered him! Maybe he'll invest in getting them lessons in how to interact with people in and out of costume?

Honestly, Nightwing, Danny expected better of you. At least Red Hood and Signal know how to treat innocents.

Here's the thing about Protection and Guardian Spirits, though. They don't like intruders. If you're running from something and you don't have time to ask permission to enter, you best say "thank you" and bring them shiny things on your next visit. If you do have time to ask permission, you ask permission. If they think you're a threat or rude, they won't let you enter whatever they're guarding.

"Thank you," Danny said as he slowed to a walk further into the graveyard, the sound of the gates slamming closed behind him confirmation that the Bat and his gaggle wouldn't be following him in.

Wasting no time, Danny pulled a piece of chalk from his pocket. It was a handy little thing he'd picked up during his stay in the House of Mysteries. Draw and door, tell it where you wanna go, open it, and go through! Beetlejuice style. Though, unlike what the Handbook for the Recently Deceased says, these doors won't actually open a door to the afterlife. He fixed that tiny glitch a while ago.

Anyway, a quick few chalk lines on the side of a mausoleum later, and Danny was opening a door to Fawcett, Philadelphia. Probably not the best choice, considering that he was trying to stay away from the Justice League, but it's better than Metropolis.

"Whoa." Damn it! He should've stayed home. "What was that, mister?"

Danny made sure the door closed behind him, praying for strength. Why did he feel like several deities were laughing at him? "Hey, kid. Can you, um, maybe not say anything about that?"

The kid, short brown hair and a red jacket stood out the most to Danny for some reason, seemed very amused. "You're gonna have to buy my silence."

Again, Danny let out a quiet, long suffering sigh. "Coffee is so not worth it." Looking at the kid, he said, "Alright, fine. I was getting coffee anyway, I'll buy ya lunch. Know any good places?"

Grinning, the kid cheered, "Hell yeah! Follow me!"

Resigned, Danny followed after the kid, easily keeping pace. About a block later, he figured he should probably get the kid's name. "I'm Danny."

"Billy."

"No last name?"

"Fae rules, dude. What's your excuse?"

He had to give it to him. "Touché."

Another three blocks of walking, Billy finally stopped at a cafe. It was a quaint place with stained white brick and a dark grey roof. There were metal chairs and tables outside the building surrounded by a wrought iron fence. The table umbrellas and the awning over the black door were light blue, matching the curtains in the inside.

The inside walls were painted baby blue with a white ceiling and a pinewood floor. The tables and chairs were all stained black with light pink cushions and table cloths. The curtains, as observed before, were all baby blue, tied back with baby pink ribbons. The lights were barely yellow, giving the room a warm feel. The counters were white with black paneling on the outside and white granite as the tops.

"Welcome in," the young man at the register greeted with a smile, "What can I get you two started with today?"

Danny envied the man. He'd obviously not been doing this long enough to gain the veteran's shine to his eye. He turned to look at the menu after telling Billy to get whatever he wanted. A mistake he'll probably pay for. "I'd like a large Red Eye, equal parts coffee and espresso, with cinnamon, honey, chocolate syrup, mint, and vodka, please."

The 'newbie' light in the man's eyes dimmed a little bit. "Um, we don't carry vodka." Glad that's the only thing he's worried about. Priorities.

Danny clicked his tongue. "Oh, well, it was worth a shot. I'd like everything else, though, please. Mix it at your own discretion."

"Alright," he was very valiant to go back to grinning, "Anything else?"

Danny motioned for Billy and the kid stepped up. "Can I get a large mocha, three chocolate chip cookies, and two sandwiches?"

The blond entered the order. "Of course! That'll be $25.37." A quick card swipe from Danny. "Thank you very much, we'll have your order out to you soon!"

The two didn't say a word as they chose a table in the corner. Danny let Billy take the seat that was open to the rest of the cafe so he wouldn't feel cornered. He had a good view of the door, though, so he wasn't complaining.

"So, how'd you do that?" Billy asked after they'd gotten their orders.

"How'd I do what?" Danny sipped his drink.

"How'd you walk outta that wall? It's solid!"

"Magic."

"I guessed that much."

"Then why'd you ask?"

"Will you teach me?"

"No."

"You didn't even think about it!"

"Okay," He paused. "No."

"Not fair." he pouted.

Putting his drink on the table, Danny summed as much fake-it-till-you-make-it energy as he could. "Magic isn't a toy and takes years of practice to get a handle on, not to mention you have to actually have an aptitude for it before you can even try. Besides, I don't know you nearly well enough to trust you with anything else."

Billy finished the cookie he was eating. "I can do it! You just gotta teach me!"

Another sigh that Danny had stopped counting. "Look, you seem like a good kid, but I'm not gonna teach you magic."

"Why not!"

"However," he continued, ignoring the demand, "I'm not gonna leave ya fully defenselessness."

"What do you mean?" Billy backed away slightly, his eyes narrowing as he moved to be able to run quickly.

Another sip. "Based off of the dirt you're covered in, the grease in your hair, and the overall poor condition of your clothes, I'm gonna bet that you're a street kid. So," he pulled a small card from his pocket, very aware that Billy was watching his hand aptly, "I'm going to leave you with this."

Slowly, the brunet took it and turned it over. "What it is?"

The white card had the initials DP in the middle, circled by an Ouroboros. The initials were completely solid, but the snake of the Ouroboros was made up of tiny runes of protection and health and healing and good fortune.

"My calling card. If you're ever in danger, hold that to your chest and ask for help. I'll be there."

Still obviously suspicious, Billy took a moment to scrutinize the card. It was cute to watch the kid act like he knew what he was looking at or for. When he seemed satisfied, he shoved the card into the inner pocket sewn into his jacket. "Thanks."

"No problem, kid," Pulling out his phone, Danny saw the time and stood, "I've gotta go now. I assume I've sufficiently bought your silence on the whole magic thing?"

Billy grinned, "I guess, but you gotta come visit me, okay?"

He chuckled, "Sure thing. See ya."

Part 2 Part 4

(I don't drink coffee, so Idk how that shit works)

Tag list: @zaiothe4th

[kaevch]

CRAYONS N LOVE !!

IMAGINE, you turned into a child due to some accident that occurred in potionology and the adeuce duo hand you over to them to take care of you while they try to find the cure and after spending the whole day with them, you— being a child, drew them to show how much fun you had with them :)

gn! reader. (you/your pronouns)

MALLEUS:

“ Horntoon! ”

Letting out a hum, the fae turned to you with a gentle smile, slitted eyes landing on the piece of paper you held up for him to see.

A proud, toothy grin sat on your lips as you presented your work to him, the smell of wax and dull colours filling his view.

“ This is...? ” he mumbled, quite baffled at the messy drawing of what seemed to be..him? and you. Well, little you.

“ I droo you n me! ” a cheerful giggle escaped your lips as you handed him the paper, puffing your chest out in pride.

“ We sud play more! And and talk about gargooles! ”

...

yeah he stared at you with a mildly surprised expression for a few moments before chuckling to himself and holding your tiny hand in his.

“ Yes, we should play some more. ”

safe to say our boy keeps yo drawing framed and nicely kept in his room and treasures it sm 🙏🙏

he'll look at it in his lowest moments while he rots in bed and just smile at it which looks kinda creepy without context but he lobes you thas what that matters right.

FLOYD:

“ Shrimpyyy? ”

“ Shrimpyyyyy?? ”

“ Lil' Shrimpyyyyyy??? ”

Getting ignored by a tiny version of you was not what the eel was planning on.

Stalking up to your small figure, Floyd was about to lunge a tickle attack before pausing, blinking owlishly as he took a closer look at what you were doing.

“ What are ya doing? ”

“ Oh! Floid! ” smiling up at him, you watched as he crouched down next to you, his attention being taken by the bright colours of crayons that sprawled out in front of you, some pieces of crumpled paper on the side, but what he was really focused on was the paper you were currently drawing on, small doodles of bubbles and little fishes surrounding two figures. a small child and a man that looked cartoonishly similar to him.

“ Is you! N me! ” you replied to his previous question, continuing to colour a sharp toothed yellow emoji on the side.

“ Jade helped me drow the cloths! ” turning your attention back to him you smiled, tilting your head to the side as you picked up the paper and showed it to him properly.

“ D'you like it? ” you questioned, getting a bit worried from the silence and lack of reaction from him.

...

“ Like it? ” the eel mumbled ominously, picking you up from your spot on the floor.

“ I LOVE it, shrimpy! It's so silly and tiny and messy! ”

Laughter filled his room as he spun you around, flopping down on his bed as you two continued to giggle.

“ Say, did ya draw more shrimpy? I wanna see all'o them! ”

he wont really frame it, more like he js keeps it sitting on top of his table but he doesn't toss it or keep it carelessly like he does w some of his books 💪

he prolly brings it up to you when you've finally turned back to normal, saying how u should draw him n u more often 😞 n that its cute 😞😞 n that he'll get reallyyy sad if u dont 😞😞😞😞

[mills-73]

Don’t Stop

After 30 years in another dimension, Stanford is quite inexperienced in the women department, although he does know how to pleasure you quite well.

TAGS: 18+, smut; dude is touch-starved, do you see where this is going? mild humiliation (you tease him and he gets horny), p in v, cunningligous

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

You never knew Stan had a twin brother up until recently.

You came into work, seeing double, thinking you had some serious brain damage, before Stan explained the situation to you. His name was Stanford—which confused you until that was also explained—and he’d been trapped in another dimension for thirty years. Heaven knows that alone threw you for a loop.

Dimension? Portals? Total baloney. But hey, it’s Gravity Falls, so it’s 99% likely to be true. And with one look at Ford, you believed it instantly.

He truly looked like he was out of place here, like he spent so long somewhere else that he didn’t know how to fit in anymore. He was paranoid and definitely had a loose screw or something with the way he tore apart the Mystery Shack “just in case he’s here.” You had no idea who this “he” person could be, but you didn’t question it.

Stan finally, after months of being here and begging him to let you in on the secrets of the Mystery Shack, finally spilled the beans to you. You soaked up every word with a smile on your face.

When Ford actually noticed that you were in the room with them, he stopped dead in his tracks and just kind of stared at you, a small tint of coral flowing over the bridge of his nose. You could barely see it because of his glasses, but then his cheeks puffed a little and you knew he was embarrassed about what you just witnessed him doing.

You introduced yourself to him, attempting to shake his six-fingered hand. He politely refused. You and Stan shared a look of unease but otherwise left Ford alone for the time being.

You went about your day, Stan leading a group of tourists through the museum as you sat at the counter and observed Ford looking at every object in the room. If there was anything yellow or triangle shaped he threw it away despite your protests.

He seemed a little weird, you thought. Handsome as fuck, but weird. Especially when he’d just stare at you when he thought you weren’t looking, almost as if he didn’t think you were real. You didn’t think it was creepy or anything, but almost cute, maybe. He seemed so interested in you, squinting his eyes, tilting his head, even going as far as to come up to you and poke your shoulder. You only raised an eyebrow at him when he did that and he rushed out an apology and quickly left. You didn’t see him for a few days after that.

When you did, he carried a worn, brown leather journal in his hands. He sat in the gift shop with you and wrote in it for the rest of the day, giving you the occasional glance over his glasses.

You wanted to know what his deal was with you, but you couldn’t really outright ask him. He probably just felt weird being around people he didn’t really know all that well. Although, even if that was the case, why would he actively sit in a room with them? You decided not to think too much about it or your head was going to explode.

What you were really curious about was what he was writing. Stan had told you yesterday that he wrote three journals documenting the paranormal creatures and anomalies he’s found throughout his time in Gravity Falls. It sounded interesting enough, and you wanted to ask him about everything he knew. But he had just come back from being in another dimension, so you thought it’d be best to give him some space before you bombard him with question upon question.

For the remainder of the day, he didn’t talk to you. And he wouldn’t for a few weeks. But he was always keeping an eye out.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

Your interest is piqued at very best when it comes to the mind of Stanford Pines. Him and that damn journal he keeps on him at all times now has you tracking his every movement when he’s around, trying your damnedest to get a peek at what he’s writing. But whenever you get close enough he snaps it shut and immediately pretends he's finished with whatever he was doing.

Now you’re even more curious.

How can you make him leave that journal behind for just a few moments so you can take a peek inside? You figure he’s not stupid enough to leave it behind if he goes somewhere, so you ask Stan to swipe it for you while he’s sleeping.

“You owe me twenty bucks, kid.”

The next day, Stan slips you the journal, holding his hand out for the money you owe him. You sigh and slap it in his hand.

“Tell no one.”

You roll your eyes and sneak off to the roof to read it. You feel a little bad about invading his privacy like this, but you have to know what he’s writing about all the damn time. It’s like a plague that can only be cured by reading the journal's contents.

You open it to the first page and your lips part in a gasp.

There’s multiple doodles of what looks like you scattered around, your name repeated over and over and then crossed out. You flip the page. It’s a journal only dedicated to you, your behavior, drawings of your face. There’s one page in particular that looks as if Ford went on a deep dive off the dark end.

Ford seems fascinated with you. You trace the ink lines of his pen with your finger, your eyes flickering over each word. He mentions at one point that he doesn’t think you’re real, going as far as to say you’re a succubus sent to make him lose his mind. Which is a little far out, but it makes you laugh. A sex demon? Really?

The other things he says about you is a little…weird to say the least.

“Could this be another one of Bill’s tricks? Is he trying to control me by using her? I need to check her eyes.”

The phrase “look at her eyes” is repeated over and over again across countless pages. More drawings here and there and comments about how he can’t stop thinking about you. He expresses he understands what’s happening to him so he’s writing all of it down, watching you for the better part of his day just to see if he can figure you out.

It’s kind of cute.

You assume that because he’s been gone for so long he doesn’t know how to approach you to actually try and talk to you. Or maybe he just likes observing from a distance.

Whatever the case, you snap the journal closed and stare off into the forest.

You have an opportunity to tease him for the stuff you’ve found, but is that too cruel? He’d blush so beautifully if you ever told him what you found out.

You think for a minute.

It’s not that cruel.

With a smirk, you climb back down the latter to the gift shop, spotting Ford turning over everything in sight. You know what he’s looking for, so you just stand there and smile.

“Looking for this?” You wave the journal around, watching his back stiffen and his eyes widen.

“H-How did you get that?”

You shrug your shoulders, flipping it open. Ford rushes for you and snatches it out of your hands, holding it close to his chest. His face is pink and his eyes look fearful.

“Very interesting topics you chose to write about. Is that your latest research?” You tease, stepping closer to him.

Ford swallows thickly. “You—You weren’t supposed to see that. How did you even—?” He blush deepens, a hand reaching to scratch at the back of his neck.

You feign innocence and smile sweetly at him. “I’m very curious to know about this succubus. I thought they were just myth?” He looks around as if he’s hoping someone will come in and save him from his embarrassment. “It’s cute you thought I was one. I’m very honored you see me like that, Ford.”

“It’s not what it looks like! I promise,” he raises his voice. “

“Then what is it like, Ford? Hm?” You reach your hand out, running your fingers down the side of his face. You delight in his shiver. “Because it seems to me that you like me.”

Ford stutters over his words, his eyes flickering to your lips. “I don’t know what you mean.”

You shrug. “If you say so.”

You begin to walk around him, ending the conversation, but he grabs you by the arm and stops you, whispering a soft “Wait.”

Your eyes meet and you smile. “Yes?”

“What…What didn’t think of it?”

“Of the journal?” He nods. You smile. “It was interesting.”

He’s silent, looking at your lips as his tongue darts out and wets his own. You lean in, whispering against the shell of his ear. “Do you like me, Ford?”

His gulp is audible. “I’d say I’m…I’mintrigued by you.”

“Only intrigued?” Your fingers run down his arm to his hand, your thumb running over his knuckles. His intake of breath makes you smirk. “I think you’re a bit more than that, handsome.”

After a few moments he admits "I find you stimulating."

You giggle at him. You turn you head so your lips are inches apart, loving how he eyes your mouth with ferocious need. "How stimulating?"

Without a seconds thought, he crashes his lips against yours, dropping his journal to the ground so he can grip your hips in his hands. You gasp in surprise but simmer into the kiss.

He's a little sloppy with it but you don't mind all that much, kissing him back with enough fervor that has him moaning into your mouth.

Ford pushes you up against the wall of the Shack, whimpering breathlessly as he bites at your bottom lip. Your hands come up to wrap around his neck, your fingers deftly running over the ends of his hair. He moans and begins to pepper kisses down your jaw and to your neck.

"Ford," you moan, trying to get his attention. "Ford, wait. We can't do this here."

He murmurs something under his breath before dragging you by your hands to another room of the shack. It's his bedroom.

You look at him, noting the need planted all over his face. You never really thought of him like this before, but seeing him actually want you like a crazed mad-man has your heart stuttering in your chest.

Before you know it, he’s on you again, pushing you towards the bed and climbing on top of you. His hips rut against yours as he licks into your mouth, his hands slipping underneath the hem of your shirt. He seems so desperate for you, and you guess spending thirty years without someone to fuck time to time would have its effects on someone. Hell, you don’t even know if you could go thirty years without sex.

The feel of his fingers on your skin sends a jolt of fire to your core, your heart rate picking up as you realize how far he wants to go with this. His erection is pressing against your thigh, so unbelievably hard that you understand his neediness.

“Your skins so soft,” he whispers against your lips, giving you one last chaste peck before sitting up, admiring you from above. “Do you want to do this with me? Because I really…” he gazes down your body. “I swear you put a spell on me or something.”

You laugh at his remark, sitting up on your elbows. “I want this.”

At your consent, he kisses you again, his hands roaming over every inch your body. You arch into his touch, sighing into his mouth when his thumbs run across your nipples.

“Is this okay?” He whispers, a little unsure. He tweaks at each bud, a shiver in running down your spine.

“Yes,” you breathe. “It’s perfect, Ford.”

He slips your shirt over your head, tossing it to the side, leaving your bra. His lips trail down your neck to the top of your breasts, your fingerings burying themselves in his hair as he kisses each one. He pulls the pads of your bra down, the cool air making your nipples pepper in response.

Ford’s mouth latches on to your right tit, his tongue lapping around. A moan drags itself from the back of your throat, sitting up slightly to unclasp the fabric from your body. His other hand comes up to give attention to your other boob, pinching and tweaking at your nipple.

He praises your breasts with his mouth before moving downwards, quickly ridding your body of the rest of your clothes, leaving you bare and vulnerable for him.

“It’s—” he chuckles nervously. “—It’s been a while since I’ve done this, if I’m being honest.” He licks his lips and leans down between your thighs, kissing the skin tenderly. You shutter. “Let me know if I’m doing things right.”

You nod and he kisses you again, trailing up to the spot between your thighs, the stipple of his beard scratching you in ways that make you tremble.

Slowly, teasingly, he begins to lap at your folds, tasting your essence. He hums softly, seemingly lost in the sensation as the pleasure builds higher and higher. Your fingers find their way to his hair, pulling gingerly at the grey strands.

"Oh, fuck," you cry as he sucks at your clit. "You're doing so fucking good. Oh my god!"

At your praise, he seems to go harder, the vulgar sounds of your own wetness and his tongue echoing off the walls. You feel one of his fingers slip inside you, his tongue never stopping it's ministrations against you clit.

You cry out as he begins to finger you slowly. Pressure begins to form low in your gut, wrapping around the bottom of your spine. He adds another finger after a moment, scissoring them inside of you.

His other arm comes up to wrap around your hips, holding you in place as he curls his fingers, making you gasp. Your orgasm is fast approaching and you don't know if you can hold it off for too much longer.

Another nip to your clit and a particularly rough thrust inside, you shatter. Your thighs shake graciously as he helps you through your orgasm, quickly becoming almost overstimulating that you have to beg him to have mercy on you.

He smiles up at you from between your legs, his lips glistening with your slick. "Was that okay?"

Still breathless, you nod. "You did so good, handsome." His glasses are foggy and a little crooked and you reach out and fix them. "Did you want to do more?"

He groans. "Yes, please. I need more."

"Then take what you need, honey," you tease, spreading you leg further.

Ford is quick to remove his clothes, his cock hard and the tip an angry shade of red. "Don't laugh if I don't last very long," he murmurs, sliding back between your legs, dragging the tip along your folds.

You bite your lip at the feeling, bucking your hips to invite him to push inside. As he does, you gasp. He's not entirely huge, but he's thick, and he streaches you out perfectly.

He feels fucking amazing.

When he bottoms out, he falls over you, holding himself up by his arms. He shutters, his eyes closing as he looses himself inside of you. Ford pulls out, shallowing thrusting inside of you. You purr at the feeling, meeting his movements, soft moans slipping past your lips.

He picks up the speed, pulling out completely and slamming back inside of you, hitting your sweet spot just right, causing you to throw your head back in a silent scream.

Ford fucks you slow and hard, the sound of skin meeting skin and vulgar yet breathy moans filling the room. He whimpers above you, his cock twitching inside you.

"Fuck, Ford. You're fucking me so well," you cry, wrapping your legs around his waist. "Please. Go faster."

"I-I don't think I can, darlin'," he gasps.

"Then let me ride you."

He groans at your words, slipping out of you after a few seconds. You flip the two of you over, settling on top. You guide the head of his cock inside, lowering yourself down until he fills you up perfectly.

Ford stares up at you, lips parted in awe. You start to grind down on him, moving your hips in a circular motion.

"Fuck," he whines, "you're amazing."

You start to bounce up and down, holding yourself up by your hands on his chest, your nails grazing over his skin. He flexs his hips upwards to meet your hips, not being able to hold his moans of pleasure back.

"Please," he begs. "Don't stop."

You weren't planning on it, riding him like your life depends on it. The stimulation to your clit and the tip of his cock hitting you just right has you falling over the edge not even a minute later, your legs spasming as a second orgasm washes over you.

His own moans become more strained and whiney, and you know he's close as he begins to pump inside of you, matching your rhythm.

"Cum for me, Ford," You say, breathless and desperate for him to fill you up.

He throws his head back, mouth drooped open as his hands come up to your hips. He grips them roughly, fucking up into you roughly, making you scream out in pleasure. He's whimpering and groaning and you feel him spill inside of you seconds later, fucking you through his orgasm.

Your breaths fill the air around, your body slumping onto of his.

"You were great," you mumble into his neck.

You feel him turn away, hiding his face into his shoulder. "I, uh...t-thanks."

You giggle. "Don't be getting all shy on me now."

Slowly, you roll off of him, Ford hissing at the stimulation. He pushes his foggy glasses up on his face, not daring to meet your eyes.

"Was it okay?" he mumbles. "It's been a little while and--"

"It was more than okay, Ford." You smile. "I hope we can do it more often."

He looks over at you, a blush on his cheeks. "I'd...I'd be okay with that."

You smirk, giving him a kiss. "Good."

~

ARTWORK BY @pumafysketch

ty for reading! i honestly hate this but it's wtv. i’ll probably write more but anyway

tags: @loslox @emgrth

[keferon]

TexAid continues to rot my brain I hope you don't mind I had an idea for Shockwave. Warning for mentioned super unethical experimentation.

====

Vortex didn’t remember the first day his dad had brought him to work. He’d been too young, young enough to have stars in his eyes about giant robots and a desire to be tested by the cool machines his dad worked on, according to what he’d been told. The standard idiot child. 

Of course that had been where him being standard had ended. 

But that meant he had grown up at the facility, that he knew it better than almost anyone else and knew everyone in it. Which was why he was currently keeping his cockpit shut tight even as First Aid kept hammering the button to open it. 

Shockwave, the only pilot to ever make it to retirement was on the other side of his one way red glass visor staring like he could see through it. Maybe he could. Once upon a time he had been kind. Once upon a time he had actual eyes instead of the bionic yellow glow that shrunk and grew as he focused it. 

His mech had had a fatal accident, one that should have killed him too. But Shockwave hadn’t been lucky enough to die, instead he had been a test subject, to see if machine and human could get just a little closer to being one. 

Vortex had never liked any of his pilots enough to care but looking at Shockwave made him mentally promise First Aid that he would never let him live if he got heavily wounded in a fight. If Vortex was dying he’d take the other man with him as a mercy. Better that than this, having everything he was scooped out. 

One metal hand came up to tap on his glass, like he was knocking on the door of a house. “Vortex let me meet him, I want to see why this one is special.” 

First Aid stopped trying to open the visor and slunk back behind the pilot seat and if Vortex could relax he would have at having him less exposed. Vortex wondered if he should chew First Aid up a little? Make him less special? But it was too late. 

The only consolation was that his reputation as a pilot killer protected First Aid, made him too valuable to let him be dragged down into Shockwave’s lab for tests that weren’t a guaranteed success. 

Shockwave continued, “Wouldn’t you like to have a body again? The first mech to human full-translation. You're an ideal candidate for obvious reasons.” But of course that wasn’t what he really wanted. No Shockwave’s real project was human to mech translation, more than what had been done to him, on a grander scale than replacing most of a human with a machine. Shockwave was large, but he was still person sized. 

Vortex had been smart enough to keep his existence at rumors and Shockwave couldn’t prove he was in here. He was trying to use First Aid to lure him out. 

He felt First Aid’s hands tighten on the back of the seat, as if he was ready to fight being pulled away from it. But Vortex kept his cockpit closed and after a long time Shockwave sighed and turned away. “Well perhaps once you get bored of him, just leave him in usable pieces.” 

Vortex watched him jump off the gangway and heard the sound of metal hitting the ground below him before easy footsteps. For a moment he was jealous of what Shockwave had, but not at that price. Even after he was gone it took a long moment before Vortex let his cockpit open. It took longer for First Aid to leave it. 

OH DAMN…

YOU KNOW WHAT. As much as I love Senator Shockwave. The Idea of him being that creepy fucking scientist really fits here oh my god

[sweetiecutie]

Pairing: dark! König x fem! Reader

Warnings: yandere behavior, obsession, stalking, gaslighting, drugging, kidnapping. This is only fiction! Never tolerate creepy behavior

A/n: so this has been sitting in my drafts for a while so I decided to finish it as a part of writing event. I’m so proud of this one, like omg, look at me being a writer😆

Your head hurt. That was the first thing you registered as you started to slowly regain consciousness. Your face scrunched up in a grimace of pain as you let out a soft groan, your throat sore, only increasing your discomfort.

You tried to raise your hands to rub on your eyes in attempt to soothe the stinginess - point word - tried. You very soon found that your movements had been restricted by something that felt very much like rope. And not only your hands - your legs were bound tightly together at your knees and ankles, not allowing you to move.

- You’re awake now? - soft voice droned on, making you tense up impossibly more. The most terrifying thing was that you knew exactly who this voice belonged to.

You squinted into direction from which the sound came, your vision still blurry and hazy from the drug. Thankfully, the room was dark, small lamp on the bedside table was the only source of soft yellow light. You could only perceive a bulky figure sitting on a chair not too far from you, piercing blue eyes gazed at you unblinking.

- König..? What’s going on? - you asked, your voice was hoarse and weak from long lack of usage.

Suddenly, memories flashed before your eyes; it was late evening - about 11 pm - as you were walking towards convenience store not so far from your apartment.

You had been in a state of constant desolation lately - days were bleak and boring, blurring into one with their unchanging routine, sending you in deeper state of depression.

Breakup with your boyfriend took a toll on you. You loved König, you really did. Considered spending your life with him, even. But the longer your relationship lasted, the more of real him you saw - controlling, obsessive, manipulative.

It all started out small - constant checking in, questions about your whereabouts and your company, him following accompanying you wherever possible. Surely, it restricted your freedom, but König didn’t mean anything bad! He was just worried for you, concerned about your safety! Is that so bad?

So you let it slip. You overlooked his more controlling tendencies, agreed to giving him passwords to all your social media even, so König could make sure that “no freaks were texting you”. It unnerved you, but he didn’t mean anything bad, did he? He was just being a good caring boyfriend!

And it was like an avalanche. Constant calls and messages, controlling what you were wearing, unwillingness to leave you alone even for a few minutes - that and many other things made a list of what your boyfriend did, only adding to your anxiety. But you tolerated it all, because you loved him. Once, digging through your phone you found something that looked very much like a tracking app. You were outraged. But when you asked König about it - rather aggressively - he just blinked at you with wide innocent blue eyes, saying that maybe you installed it on accident? You know all these bots nowadays, you can never be safe online now. But you know that he would never do something like that, right? How could you even think of something like that?! König was genuinely offended, and you naturally hastened to apologize for your unwise accusations, trying to make it up to him. Deleting this app seemed to be impossible, though, no matter how many times you tried.

Last drop was, however, when König nearly blew out your best friend’s front door, threatening them to keep away from you. “This bitch is putting some fucked up ideas about me into your head” - was his reasoning. And that was it - hell was set free. You had an ugly shouting marathon for hours to no end, with lots of tears and profanities, ending up with a harsh breakup and you blocking König everywhere, cutting him off completely.

And since then you haven’t spoken a word to him. Of course, he came to your apartment countless times, sent numerous gifts and bouquets of your favorite flowers, practically begging for forgiveness. But you knew better than that - it happened before, and even if you forgave him this time, in a few months time everything would be just as it was before.

At present, you were walking down a sidewalk, asphalt damp under your shoes from recent rain. You needed to get some groceries, since your fridge was just as empty as your stomach; and this late of an hour promised as little people around as possible, saving you from unfavorable company of men.

Just as you rounded a corner - a pair of huge strong arms - obviously male - seized your sensibly smaller body; a weird-smelling cloth was pressed tightly over your mouth and nose. In your panicked state you tried to fight back, not registering your own breathing, inhaling lungfuls of drug. Darkness filled your vision rapidly as dizziness overcame all your senses. You felt consciousness quickly slipping away from you, neon lights of convenience store shone brightly before your eyes still.

Panic seized your throat and it was becoming harder to breathe - you tugged and pulled on rough ropes around your limbs, trying to either snap them or slip out of tight confines, thrashing around the mattress relentlessly. König didn’t do anything, just watched you silently with his icy orbs from his spot, not exactly amused nor impressed by your behavior. Very soon fatigue took over your already exhausted body, you lay motionless once again, panting heavily as you glared at König’s dark form, vision still unfocused from the drug.

- Drop that. I made sure knots are tight, - he said coldly, continuing to observe you with a sharp stare of a hawk.

You just glared silently, trying to catch your breath. Your body felt heavy - extremely so, as if every limb was made out of lead and not flesh and bone; moving as much as one finger seemed harder than anything and you wondered how you managed to thrash around in the first place. Your head was aching irritably, not allowing you to think clearly - it had to be the side effect of whatever that was König made you inhale previously.

- König, do you realize what you did? - you managed to choke out, panic crashing over you in waves as realization of your current situation finally hit you. Hot tears streamed down your face as you tried to breathe evenly, but it did little to calm you down.

König just leaned in, cupping the side of your face with one of his huge hands, his thumb swiped under your eye, wiping salty tears away with calloused fingertip. You closed your eyes, averting your face from his touch. And oh, he didn’t like it.

König gripped bottom part of your face, force of his grip squeezed your cheeks together as he turned your head forcibly towards himself, making you squeal quietly as you faced him.

- You tried to leave me. And you are very dear to me. I can’t let this happen, - König explained, his voice calm, alarmingly calm. His scarred lips were pressed into a thin pale line, giving a little clue of his rage.

It was another side of him, completely different from what you used to see - a calm, ruthless and collected one; one that you could only imagine, based off some rumors you’ve heard about him and small cracks in his friendly mask König was too careless to hide from you during your relationship. You got glimpses of it a few times - when some drunk dude tried to hit on you when you and König were in the bar together, or when you mentioned how nice one of your male coworkers was. You always made one brutal mistake of brushing it all off, blaming it on König’s tiredness or fierce personality. And that’s where it led you.

- So what are you gonna do now? Keep me here forever? - you tried to scoff, but your trembling voice was way too weak to do so.

König cocked his eyebrow at your brave words, ghost of a smile played on his pursed lips. He shrugged lightly, grip of his fingers on your cheeks eased as he caressed them endearingly with rough fingertips, tickling you slightly.

- If that’s what it takes to keep you with me - then yes, - he shrugged slightly, propping his chin on his free hand, not a single emotion could be deciphered in his voice. These words made your blood turn cold.

He heaved a deep sigh at your frightened expression and trembling body, letting go of your face and reclining into his chair.

- Schatzi, you know I hate this just as much as you do. You think I’m enjoying this? - he asked, his tone was somehow sad and exhausted. But yes, you indeed thought, knew he enjoyed this. You kept silent, choking on your silent sobs, now being extremely aware of thick ropes digging painfully into your soft skin. Panic attack was full on taking over you, suffocating you with numerous sobs, body tensing and shaking incessantly, tears blurring your thus poor vision.

- Now, this all may end if you stop being a little bitch and start acting like an actual adult. We didn’t finish our conversation that last time, and you blocking me everywhere doesn’t make things any easier, - König said, his ice-blue eyes boring holes in your head. But you couldn’t comprehend the meaning behind his words, your brain short-circuited with fear and panic, turning you into a weeping shaking mess.

König heaved another sigh. He got up from his chair, taking a few steps towards your bed and dropping to his knees in front of it, so that his head was right against yours. His hand once again came to caress the side of your face affectionately, tangling into your messy hair and massaging your scalp, cooing soothingly at you.

- I know baby, I know. You need to rest. Don’t worry, I’ll keep you safe. And then, once you’re strong and rested, we’ll talk again. And we’ll sort everything out and be happy again, just like we used to be, hmm? - König murmured softly as he always did to calm you down during hard times. But it only made you weep harder.

König pressed his lips against your cold forehead, leaving a chaste kiss as he inhaled lungfuls of your scent. He then nuzzled his forehead against yours, mumbling quietly:

- You can’t imagine how much I missed you. How could you do this to me? Hurt me so much even though I only want the best for you?

He peppered your face with small kisses, whispering small nothings and caressing your shuddering back. This made you feel nauseous. Your consciousness started to slip away again, your vision darkening rapidly. And just before blacking out, you heard König’s voice, one you loved so dearly once, utter:

- You’re mine, always will be. I’ll make sure of that.

Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Give writers some love, we live off feedback<3

[anonsturniolo]

spider-man — chris sturniolo

paring — spiderman!chris x f!reader

genre — fluff, golden retriever energy, Chris being hurt, solved angst

word count — 1.5k

He was late, and by 3 whole hours. You had saw on the news about the giant lizard that had wrecked the Williamsburg Bridge, but you had turned it off. You couldn't stomach watching how your boyfriend traveled across the bridge at such dangerous heights, trying to fight a creepy monster.

You walk over to the window that was right next to the fire escape to your loft, sliding it open. That was how Chris usually entered your place, especially if he was still in his suit. You checked your phone, turning your back to the open window.

Still no text or call from Chris.

You let out a deep sigh, turning towards the window just in time to see Chris shooting his last web so he was able to land safely onto the fire escape.

He lifts a hand and tugs off his mask, leaning onto the windowsill, "Hey pretty lady, do you leave your window open for jus' anybody?" Chris teases you, a grin on his split open lip.

Relief floods through you, "Chris!" You half shout, immediately reaching for him. You help him climb into your room, frowning as he grunts in pain at shifting his body to fit through the window.

"I wish your spider would've given you like, super speed healing or something." You murmur to him quietly, easing him onto your reading chair. He winces out a laugh, leaning back and letting his shoulders fall.

"I wish, but it's a good thing I don't heal too fast." He replies, making you look at him as if he was crazy, "It keeps me humble."

"Oh my god." You sigh, placing a hand over your eyes in disbelief. You spin on your heel, heading for your bathroom to grab the first aid kit you keep for when Chris comes to you all banged up from a fight.

Once you’ve gathered what you needed, you head back into your room. Chris was slowly stepping through your window, but by some miracle he stumbled and crashed to the floor.

So much for these “spidey senses” he’s always raving about.

“Chris, are you okay?” You ask, a soft laugh escaping you. Chris’ head shoots up to glare at you, but he can’t fool you. A smile tugs at his lips, “Yeah, laugh it up chuckles.” He playfully sneers, letting you help him stand up. You sit him down on the singular chair you had in your room so you could tend to his wounds.

Chris winces as you apply the wet washcloth to wipe away the blood on his face, being mindful of his lip that was split open. You go to grab the ointment, before deciding that’s not necessary. It’ll heal before it has a chance to be infected.

“Any broken bones I’m unaware of?” You ask him, leaning back to look him in the eye. He shrugs, a wince appearing on his features, “Some ribs probably.” You decide quietly, helping him take off his suit.

A gasp rips from your throat as his chest and stomach were revealed, bruises ranging from a light purple to a deep purple and yellow scattered his skin. You grip onto his shoulder softly, your eyes filling with tears as you look up at him.

“Baby…” You trail off, wanting nothing more than to take his pain away. He defends an uncountable amount of people just to end up hurting and suffering once it’s said and done.

“I’m fine.” Chris frowns at you, gently cupping your face to tear your eyes away from his body. He never minded when you stared, he just hated seeing you look so sad.

You stayed quiet as you helped him change into a t-shirt and a pair of sweats he had left lying around, getting him comfortable in your bed.

“Where are you goin’ baby?” He softly asks, his hand shooting out to grab onto yours.

You leaned down to place a gentle kiss to his head, “Gonna go get us a drink. I’ll be right back.” You promised, and Chris reluctantly let go of your hand.

Making your way into the kitchen and getting out everything you needed to make Chris’ favorite; hot chocolate. You moved quickly, knowing if you took too long he’d join you in the kitchen. Placing mini marshmallows on top was the final touch, carefully picking them up and walking slowly to your room.

“Is that hot chocolate?” Chris excitedly asked, his interest peaked as he watched you walk across the room. You sent him a small smile, rounding the bed and carefully handing him his mug.

You both sip on your drinks silently, the noise from the city making the air around you two lighter.

After a while, Chris speaks up, “Baby, please tell me what’s on your mind.” He sets his mug on your nightstand, his eyes searching yours for questions he knows he can’t answer.

“I’m just…worried.” You whisper, shrugging your shoulders. Your eyes are glued to your mug, your hands tightly clutching it in a way to keep yourself present.

“About me?” Chris questions you quietly, to which you nod.

Your eyes burn as you fight back tears, “Every time you’re late, my brain takes me to a place I could never speak into words. It’s as if every nightmare I’ve ever had has come to life.” Chris nods, encouraging you to keep talking, “You’re on the streets fighting insane creatures and I never know which one will keep you. And it’s fucking horrifying.” The tears are flowing now, having to picture yourself finding out Chris was killed and having to live on without him.

“I promise I’m always bein’ safe,” Chris whispers, taking the mug out of your hand and placing it with his. He’s immediately tugging you into his chest, his arms wrapping around you.

“Nobody is gonna take me out, y’know? I won’t let them.” He murmurs into your hair, holding you tighter as your body shakes with each breath you take.

“You don’t know that Chris, and that’s what scares me the most,” You reply, lifting a hand to grip his tightly, “I don’t think you know your limits, and one day it’s going to catch up to you.” Chris takes in a deep breath at your words, really thinking them over.

Ultimately you were right. He knew that, but he hated that you were. In his mind, he could take on anything and come out standing on top. Chris hated that he kept you up worrying late at night, watching the news and waiting to see if he doesn’t stand back up after a hard hit.

“I’ll…” He trailed off, his brain racing as reality came crashing down around him, “I’ll be more careful. I’ll step out of a fight if I can’t handle it. I don’t want you to worry about me, Ma.”

You nod against his chest, accepting that this will be the first step in the right direction. “Thank you..” You reply softly, focusing on the way Chris’ chest rises and falls with every breath.

“Can I show you something?” Chris suddenly speaks, already shifting to sit up. You nod and watch on curiously as he slips on his suit again, no longer wincing as his body twists and turns.

“C’mon.”

Chris helps you onto the fire escape as your nerves build up, you never liked traveling by his webs. You knew it was safe and everything, but the feeling of free falling for just a second made you almost puke. He wraps an arm around your waist, and the two of you are off.

Your arms are tightly wrapped around his neck, your head resting against his shoulders and your eyes tightly squeezed shut. You could feel Chris chuckle as you took in a sharp breath as he took a rather long time to shoot another web.

He’s crazy.

Finally he landed, and you slowly released your grip on him as you take in the view. Chris had brought you to a secluded rooftop, overlooking the city. The sun was now set, the neon lights lighting up the area beneath you.

Chris turned to you, sliding off his mask, “I brought you here to make you a promise,” he began, his voice thick with emotion. “I know the danger and risks I face everyday, and I can’t bear to think of you getting hurt because of me.” Chris takes a deep breath, grabbing both of your hands as he stands directly in front of you.

“I promise to be more careful, to step back if the fight is getting too rough. I need to be there for you, but that can’t happen if I keep being reckless.” Chris finished with a sweet smile, releasing one of your hands to wipe the stray tear that had slipped from your eye.

Your heart was swelling in your chest, full of love and concern. You reached out with shaking hands, cupping his face gently, “I love you, Chris.” You whispered, your voice trembling as an overwhelming rush of emotion consuming you.

“I love you,” His voice was soft, but his eyes held everything you needed. Love, warmth, and honesty. You leaned in and Chris met you half way, your lips meeting in a tender and sweet kiss.

Maybe everything would be fine after all.

authors note — shut up I literally love this sm where is my spider man chrissss.

[written-in-flowers]

Her Lover: Demon!Hongjoong x Fem!Reader

Pairing: incubi!hongjoong x fem!reader | side pairing: demonline x fem!reader

Genre: smut, fluff, major angst MINORS DNI

Word Count: 11k

Summary: Often called "The Beauty" of his brothers, Hongjoong's "hollow day" turns even worse with a visit from his vicious mother and an appearance from his absentee father. The only cure: you.

Tags: polyamorous relationship (m/m/m/f), depression, violence, ritual sacrifices, graphic depictions of death, mentions of mental illness, medication, mentions of bad childhood, mentions of abuse, mentions of emotional neglect, parents being shitty overall, orgies, incest, alcohol usage, outdoor sex, sex in the woods, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, rough sex, very little foreplay, exhibitionism, face fucking, rough oral sex, sloppy oral sex, cum swallowing, light spanking, dom/sub dynamic, choking.

Pretty Lady Masterlist

Previously on Pretty Lady

Next >

***

He loved watching you sleep. He knew how creepy that sounded, but he enjoyed it. You looked the most peaceful when you slept. Wrapped in a cocoon of suede and linen, there was no smug smirk or furrowed brow on your face. In dreams, you escape all the confusion of this new world and sink into the familiar again. Laying beside you, he wondered what you dreamt about. You’d once had a nightmare about your mother, but as far as he knew, that didn’t happen anymore. Hongjoong hardly remembered his dreams. When he did, he saw blurry, brief images that left him empty inside. 

The first time Hongjoong saw his mother, he was six-years-old and living with a witch in Korea. He recalled playing outside in the small courtyard in front of their hanok when a woman appeared at the gate. The witch, an old hag named Aro, looked stunned and fearful at the sight of her. Hongjoong recalled her stuttering and bowing to the strange woman. She had flowing black hair with smooth yellow-brown skin and thin dark eyes. He remembered her hardly giving notice to Aro, but instead focusing on him. Back then, Hongjoong didn’t know many demons. Aro told him he must keep his true identity a secret if he wished to stay amongst the living. She’d stared at him with brown eyes circled by a thin crimson line and he knew. Most mothers might smile at their child, especially one they barely saw. Not her. 

‘Hello, Hongjoong. Do you remember me?’

‘No.’

How could he when the last time she'd seen him, she'd popped him out of her? Back then, he’d hoped she'd come to take him to France to live with Seonghwa, his elder brother. Perhaps take him to Hell, where he can see his father, Asmodeus, who’d seen him far more often than her. But, no. Mistress Youngmi came for something else. 

‘I have need of him tonight. Bring him to the old meeting place at dusk.’

‘Yes, Mistress.’

Hongjoong didn’t know what she’d planned at the time, but he’d soon find out. His mother gathered her coven of followers, witches whom she’d recruited, to perform ritual. They needed the blood of a demon, the blood of a cambion, and the blood of a human to enhance their powers. He recalled his fear as he pushed stray hairs from your face. Witches, gruesome and snarling, terrified him as his mother dragged him to a cauldron at the cliff's edge. He thought she planned on killing him. He believed this mostly because he’d just seen her slice open the human’s and cambion’s throats. Hongjoong fought and struggled against her tight grip. His sharp claws detracted and he swiped at her sleeve fiercely. This only earned him a harsh smack to the face. Obviously, his mother did not kill him. She’d simply cut open his finger and let a few drops fall into the dark red potion. Humans and even cambions in those days meant nothing to demons. Their blood can be spilt by the gallon. His blood, Aro told him, was special. 

He’d seen how your mother interacted with you. She’d embraced, kissed and comforted you. Witches weren’t known for their kindness. Aro begrudgingly cared for him, he knew. If she wished to have high favor with his mother, she’d care for her son. Yes, she fed, clothed and housed him, but nothing more. This left Hongjoong to his own devices most of the time. He then started hanging around the wrong kind of crowd: the street urchins who got by stealing and committing petty crimes. By the time he was fifteen, young Hongjoong had been behind bars eight times for mostly arson, theft, vandalism, and assault. Reform schools did nothing to “cure” him. The officers there, mean and wicked as they were, could not understand how the little boy with the dark red hair didn’t feel pain. In fact, whenever one of them hit him, they’re the ones who felt it. 

That’s when Hongjoong learned his special ability: Transference. When he returned home from a stint in prison, he told Aro this. Hongjoong still remembered the terror on her face when she saw him put a kitchen knife to his wrist. 

That’s when Seonghwa, sixteen and dressed in the finery of a French nobleman, came to collect him. 

Your faint yawn pulled him from his memories. He laid there and watched you gradually shift from your dreams into reality. Hongjoong never felt or understood love before. Until Seonghwa, he didn’t know what that meant or felt like. He’d known nothing but cold, harsh anger and disdain. Only with Seonghwa, and eventually San, did he understand love and loving in return. He never imagined feeling that with anyone else. Yet, when he saw you, naked and trembling at his soft touch, he felt it blossom in his chest. Nobody other than his brothers made him feel whole. He didn’t understand it at the time; he still doesn’t, but he doesn’t question it anymore. The empty space in his heart belongs to you now. 

“Morning,” you said, voice hoarse from sleep. 

“Morning,” he replied, kissing your cheek. 

“Sleep well?”

“Yeah. I just didn’t feel like getting up yet.” 

He wanted to look at you a little longer. Even in the dimness of his bedroom, he still made out your face. “Don’t you work today?” you asked him. 

“Always.”

The mere thought of the lower dungeons sent a shiver through him. He hated the cold down there. The tunnels only remained warm because of the volcanic vents underneath the stone floors, a luxury given to the jailors and not the prisoners. He much rather preferred the warmth of your body than the chill of his dungeon. But, he knew he couldn’t shirk his responsibilities, Seonghwa had taught him that. 

“Stay,” you whispered, kissing him softly. “Stay with me today.”

“I would if I could, Pet.”

Even without your collar, he still called you ‘Pet’. He couldn’t see himself calling you anything other than affectionate pet names. You’d become too precious. Sometimes, he wondered how things might have been if he’d known you before. Would he have gone down that destructive path if he had your warm touch to soothe him? Would he have suffered lonely nights if he held you in his arms? He didn’t know. He didn’t like entertaining the ‘what ifs’. 

“Not even for a little bit?” you asked, taking his hand to put on your chest. “You didn’t touch me last night.”

He hadn’t for a while. Not because you didn’t arouse him anymore. In fact, you are one of the few things that did. 

“Is something wrong?”

Hongjoong stared at his hand on your breast. Normally, he’d be fondling and kissing you deeply, not caring about the consequences. But, today he couldn’t find it in him. Today was a ‘hollow day’. He rolled onto his back, staring up into the dark canopy of his bed. The wooden posters of his bed, molded snakes coiling around them, connected into a point at the top. His eyes followed them over and over. 

“Hongjoong?”

“I’m fine,” he said, though it did not sound convincing. 

“No, you’re not. Is it me?”

“Never.”

“Then what is it?”

‘I was thinking about my terrible childhood and how you’re one of the few people who matter to me.’ It sounded stupid when he thought about it. “Just tired, that’s all,” he said, stretching and yawning. “I really don’t want to go down there. It’s cold.” 

He rolled out of bed before you pressed him further. Hongjoong did not want to talk about his mother or the letter she’d sent yesterday. He would’ve torn it apart if Seonghwa hadn’t opened it first. 

“Then stay,” you said, your hand sliding up under the back of his shirt. Not a sexual touch, but a comforting one. Fingernails traced the small part of his back in idle circles, keeping him grounded beside you. “You’re a freaking duke, Hongjoong. What are they going to do? Fire you?”

He snorted a laugh. In truth, the dungeon masters cannot do much to him in particular. The higher a demon is in society, the less consequences they face. He couldn’t get away with murder, but he could get away with missing a day of work. But, Hongjoong couldn’t stay home today. If he’s in the lower dungeons, then he won’t be home when she arrives. If he isn’t home, she won’t stick around. 

‘Mother is coming to visit. She says she needs you for something. I don’t know, it doesn’t say.’

“It’s my responsibility,” he said over his shoulder. “I have to go.” 

“Well, can I come with you then?” 

He turned to look at you, “What?”

“Yeah,” you scooted closer to his side of the bed. “I’d like to go with you.”

This didn’t sound like you. When he mentioned you coming to the dungeons with him, you’d look disgusted. Yet, now you’re in his bed asking to join him. Hongjoong turned to look at you, seeing the softness in your eyes. You know he’s hollow. He doesn’t know how you do, but you do. Maybe you don’t know either. Seonghwa told him certain people have connections they can’t explain. That might be what you two have. 

“Are you sure?” he asked. “It’s not a fancy place.”

“I don’t mind.”

He laughed, “You?” He laid across you, trapping you underneath him and said, “The one who gets all squeamish when she sees blood?”

“I don’t get ‘squeamish’ at blood,” you defended. “Women see blood way more than men do. It’s all the gore and torture and stuff that’s gross.”

“And there’s plenty and more of that where I work.”

“I know, but,” you gazed over his face for a moment, much like how Seonghwa does, “I haven’t seen you much lately. You’re always working.”

He felt guilty about that. His brothers made time for you: coming to see you at lunch, taking you out on dates at night or spending time in your room or the greenhouse. Hongjoong tried doing the same, but sometimes he didn’t have it in him. His hollow days became more frequent when he didn’t have the thin, minty elixir that balanced him out. Yunho told him the apothecary ran out of mint leaves, and wouldn’t have them for another week. This coupled with a visit from his mother had Hongjoong swallowed up by his sadness. 

“I want to be with you as much as I want to be with San or Seonghwa,” you told him, not shuffling when he moved up your body. “I want to take care of you too.”

That sentence usually sparked a fire inside his loins, but not today. Hollow days never involved sex. “I know, pet,” he said, kissing your lips. Nothing tasted or smelled as sweet as you. He hoped his mother never saw you. He refused to let her ruin anything he loved. “Sure,” he finally said, “You can tag along this one time.” 

He gave you one final kiss before the door opened. “Good morning, sir,” Yunho said, walking by the bed to open the curtains. Bright sunlight shone into the room, burning his eyes as they adjusted to the light. “I suggest you get dressed quickly.”

“Why’s that?” he asked, blinking his eyes and rubbing them. 

“Your mother is here.”

Every muscle in his body turned stiff. “What? Already?”

“Yes,” the butler nodded, facing him. “She arrived a few minutes ago. Your brothers have been told, and Master Seonghwa is meeting with her now.”

“Your mom’s here?” he heard you ask. 

He lifted himself from his position over you and sat on the edge again. She never came this early. Mistress Youngmi didn’t like rising early. She also rarely visited Hell anymore. She said she detested the stench of the city or the uncouth demons that lived there. Youngmi always considered herself above everyone else. 

“Yeah,” he finally said. “She wrote and said she’d be stopping by.”

“Oh, that’s cool,” you sat up in bed, “I can meet her too.”

“I don’t want you to meet her,” he replied. 

“Why? You know my mom. Why can’t I know yours?”

“Because she's a vicious bitch,” he snapped, irritation settling into his chest. “She’s a parasite that infects and sucks the life out of everything around her. Even Lilith doesn’t like her.” He looked over at you, “My mother is a narcissist who sees her children as nuisances. She only comes around when she wants something from one of us.”

When she wants something from him specifically. Much like you, things hadn’t ended happily the last time he’d seen her. 

‘My sisters need your life’s blood in order to keep serving myself and your father.’ 

She loved those grotesque witches more than her own offspring. “I don’t…I don’t want her infecting you too.”

To be honest, once his mother learned who your grandmother was, she’d proceed with more caution. Even if she did think highly of herself, even the dumbest demon knew not to mess with Lilith. 

“If she’s not happy, nobody can be happy.” 

“I’m pretty sure she knows about me anyway,” you told him, rubbing his back. “There’s no point in trying to keep me a secret. I’ll go with you.” 

“If you insist…”

Hongjoong went to his bathroom, forcing himself to clean up even if the hollowness weighed him down. You came in after, shedding your clothes and stepping into a prepared bath, he didn’t notice much. He knew you sensed his sadness, and didn’t know how to cure it. He wished he knew himself. Hongjoong tried giving a reassuring forehead kiss, but you still didn’t believe his muttered ‘I’m fine’.

“How are we today, sir?” Yunho asked, placing a tea tray on a table. 

“Could be better,” he said, walking into his closet to pick out a shirt. She’ll expect him to wear proper clothes like his brothers. He picked up his torn, altered Sex Pistols t-shirt from the rack. “Has Andris called?”

“I’m sorry, he hasn’t. I’ve sent one of the footmen to his shop to get an update. As per usual, I added a bit of whiskey to the coffee. I know it is not a proper replacement-”

“-Better to be numb than hollow, Yunho.” 

He pulled the white sleeveless shirt over his torso, and picked distressed black denims to go with it. If Youngmi considered him a child, then he’d act and dress the part for her. He took a sip of the coffee, tasting the whiskey in the richness, and felt it warm his body. Jumping into the tight jeans, he’d been sliding a studded belt through the loops when San appeared in the doorway. 

“Where’s YN?” he asked. 

“In her dressing room,” he answered. “She says you’re taking her to the dungeons today.”

“She asked,” he shrugged. 

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Not really, but she insisted and I want to spend more time with her.”

“Is it really quality time if she’s sitting in a corner while you torture people?” 

“Like I said, she asked.” 

San remained silent. He noticed his tailored three-piece suit, and thought of how suffocated he’d feel in that. Hongjoong wondered how awkward it must be to walk into the stone, ancient arena’s common area in a 1950’s suit. Then again, time periods blended together in Hell. Hongjoong ruffled up his hair, letting it hang in front of his face before he picked up an eyeliner pencil. 

“Yunho says the apothecary doesn’t have your mint in stock,” he said, walking around the dressing room aimlessly. 

“He said he might have it next week.”

“How’re you feeling?”

“Fine.”

“You don’t have to lie to me.” 

“I’m not.” He took another sip of his spiked coffee with hopes of feeling numb, “I’m fine.” 

“I don’t think you should take YN with you today. Just take a day off and stay here,” San suggested. “There’s nothing wrong with a mental health day.” 

“I said I’m fine. It’s no big deal.” 

“So, you’re not dreading going to work because of all the movement and crap you have to do there?” he asked, eyeing Hongjoong’s shirt collection. “You’re up to socializing today? Having to use up the last bit of battery in you to make it through the day?”

“Yup.” He held down his lower lid and applied the eyeliner. 

“And this coffee is regular coffee, right?” San opened the carafe Yunho left behind and sniffed it. “And not spiked with whiskey at all?” 

“It was his idea. Not mine.” 

San came to his side, putting a hand on his shoulder, “You know we’re here for you.”

“I know.”

“She’ll only be here for five minutes tops,” he said. “Just give her what she wants, then go do something with YN. Maybe take her into the city on a breakfast date or to the movies or something. Do something with her that isn’t breaking a person to pieces.”

“I have to work.”

“No, you don’t. You want to go to escape the hollowness. Torturing other people to relieve your own sadness doesn’t do anything but make it worse. You know that. Stay home today.”

San didn’t get it. Digging his knives into prisoners, listening to their tortured screams, distracted him. When he's working, he doesn't have to think about all the pain inside him. He'd be too busy for the hollowness to drown him. Hongjoong felt agitated about work, but knew that staying home made it worse. 

“Come on,” San said when Hongjoong did not answer him. “Don’t take her there. You know she only asked because she can tell there’s something up with you. You don’t want her to see how you get when you’re in the heat of it. It’ll scare her. Shit, it scares me.”

Hongjoong rubbed his face, an irritated groan covered by his palms. He knew San was right. Even if you put up a tough front, the dungeons would sicken and frighten you. The only one allowed to be traumatized in the keep is him. 

“She’s not going to let me stay,” he said, running his hands through his hair. 

“Mom?”

“She’ll want me to go with her. She tells me the blood needs to be given, not taken.”

“Is it really ‘giving’ if you’re forced to go?”

“I guess?” 

A rocky cliff at the edge of an old forest became the meeting place for his mother’s followers. Hongjoong thought of the open waves crashing into the jagged rocks below, and the sea air blowing through the tall trees. The cauldron often stood on a stone platform right where the moonlight shone. She never told him what the ritual did or what the potion was for. He only found out when Seonghwa told him. 

In order for witches to maintain their immortality and immunity, they needed the blood of three beings: a human to keep their youth, a demon with the power of transference to keep them immortal, and a cambion to bind both together. She typically lured or paid demons handsomely for the ritual. 

“Why can’t she just have another kid?” he groaned, his body heavy and fatigued. He had no desire to go anywhere or do anything. “It’s not like she’d have to care for it.”

“She says having kids gets in the way of her life,” he rolled his eyes. “Cunt.” 

Hongjoong snorted, making himself finish the other eye. “Finish up here,” San said, patting his back, “And come downstairs. She’ll get more annoyed the longer you keep her waiting.”

And when Youngmi gets annoyed, it becomes everyone else’s problem. Hongjoong pulled on necklaces, bracelets and rings before deciding he looked suitable enough. He took a final gulp of his coffee, letting the whiskey settle into his stomach before nibbling on a biscuit. When he reentered his bedroom, you walked in at the same time. A tight black sweater and the blue high waisted skirt shaped out your gorgeous curves, and you’d worn minimal makeup and the long snake earrings he’d bought you. He gave a weak smile, kissing your cheek before bringing you into his arms. 

“I decided not to go to work today,” he told you, burying his face in your hair. “I’ll probably end up going somewhere with my mom, so work’s out of the question.”

“That’s fine,” you said in his shoulder. “Do you want me to bring Linette to your room and you can have some fun with us?”

“Tempting, but no.”

“Maybe you can play your guitar and I can sing for you? You like doing that, don’t you?”

“Not in the mood. I…” he held you a bit tighter, inhaling your scent. “Let’s stay in bed together today. I can have Yunho bring the TV here and we can hang out.”

You pulled away from him, looking into his face. “We can do whatever you want to do,” you said. “I’ll tell Jongho to get us some snacks, and we’ll be a couple of couch potatoes together.”

“After my mom.”

“After your mom.”

He looked forward to it already. Taking your hand, he led you out of his room and down the stairs. He found his brothers in the sitting room where servants laid out a small cheese and meat spread with spirits. Hongjoong had no appetite for the food. The woman sitting on his couch ruined any possibility of breakfast. Youngmi, wearing a long black and red dress, sat on his couch with a glass of wine in her hand. She’d draped black strings of onyxes around her large horns, the strings connected by a large gem. He wondered who paid for that. When she looked over at him, her expression delighted him. 

“Hongjoong, must you insist upon dressing like a child all the time?” she said with distaste. “Look at your brothers: well-dressed gentlemen. I can’t imagine what people must think when they see a Duke walking around like he rolled out of bed and threw on the first thing he saw.”

“Don’t, Mother. You know what too much thinking does to your head,” he replied. “What do you want?”

She didn’t answer right away. Youngmi’s eyes landed on you beside him. “Ah, so this is the one that’s been living here,” she said, unimpressed. “I would take her with us, but I already have a cambion lined up for the ritual.”

“You wouldn’t want this one, Mother,” he said, already feeling the animosity between them. 

“Why is that? Because she’s your little plaything?”

“Because Princess Lilith will be absolutely wroth with anger,” said Seonghwa, cross-legged and munching on a cracker. “She wouldn’t like the idea of a no-name demon mistress utilizing one of her granddaughters in a blood ritual.” 

“She’s one of Lilith’s?” Youngmi asked in surprise. “Impossible!”

“It’s very possible,” he replied. “Plus, our beloved doesn’t particularly like doing things people tell her to do, so I wouldn’t risk it.” 

“What’s your name, girl-”

“-My lady-” Hongjoong corrected her. “I think you’re forgetting your place, Youngmi.”

She glared at him, “What’s your name?”

“I’m YN,” you replied disdainfully. 

“YN, a name as pretty as you,” she simpered. “Your father is going to love her.”

“As if he’d ever see her.”

“He’ll have to when he shows up.”

“Dad’s coming here?” Hongjoong turned to Seonghwa, who grimaced. 

“I just got the letter,” he said, nodding to a paper on the coffee table. “He said he’s coming for a special ‘visit’.”

“Great,” he gave a mirthless laugh, “First her, and now Dad.” 

He sat on San’s couch, head in his hands. “I don’t see why you are so distressed, Hongjoong,” his mother said. “The Eternal ritual is done every ten years. You must’ve known this was coming.” 

“A strangely short timespan for witches to recharge their powers, isn’t it?” he asked, leaning back on the couch. “Don’t you have another demon for this sort of thing?”

“I normally do,” she said, “But my usual volunteer got himself banned from the living world so now I need you.”

He grabbed a tea cup and one of the cheese knives. All he did was think of her, and with a single slice of his index finger, his mother hissed. 

“Ugh, you little bastard,” she glared, holding her bleeding finger. 

“Sorry,” he said innocently, “I can’t control it sometimes.” He squeezed a few droplets into the cup, then passed it to her. “There’s your blood,” he said, wrapping his finger in a napkin. The gash along his finger didn’t hurt, but it certainly bled. “Have a nice time. See you in another fifteen years.”

“You know that’s not how that works,” she scolded. 

“Find a way to make it work,” he retorted, staunching the blood from the wound. 

“The demon has to give it willingly.”

“You know, San posed a pretty good question to me earlier: is it really ‘willingly’ if you’re forcing me to go up there?” 

“It’s good enough,” she said. “It’s not like it’ll take long. Besides, when we’re done, you can have your pick of the ladies there. They’re all eager to see you again, especially after this year’s mass.”

“Your witches are cute when they’re in human form,” he remarked. “I closed my eyes with most of them even then. Besides,” he grinned at you, “I have something much better now.”

“Enough of this nonsense,” Youngmi said irritably. “The longer I spend here arguing with you, the more moonlight I’m losing up there.”

“Money.”

“Beg pardon?”

“Pay me and I’ll go.”

“You’re already wealthy, Hongjoong-”

“-Don’t care. Money and I get to bring YN with me. I think I’d enjoy pounding her underneath a blood moon,” he winked at you, “It’d be special for sure.” 

“Fine,” she snapped, “Fifteen-hundred gold and you can bring the girl.” 

“Sixteen. I like even numbers.” 

“So be it,” she grunted, slamming down her wine cup. “Why couldn’t I be like the other mistresses and have sons who don’t give me headaches?” she ranted as she stood, walking out of the room. “Patricia’s boys never give her so much grief.”

“That’s because she sees them once every two hundred years,” Hongjoong called after her, “Maybe she likes even numbers too.” Once she’d left, Hongjoong checked on his finger. The skin nearly knitted back together, he grabbed a new napkin and stood up. “Looks like pancakes are going to have to wait, pet. We have a ritual to attend.”

“A ritual?”

“I’ll see you two later,” he said to his brothers. 

“Don’t make a scene, Hongjoong,” warned Seonghwa. “Just give her the blood, and come back home. It’s not worth making a fuss.”

“And then put up with Dad all night.”

“Dad’s not all bad,” said Seonghwa. “Alright, he’s just as absent in our lives as her, but at least he’s fun.”

“He also brings gifts when he comes,” said San. 

“Yeah, to make up for not being around.”

“Still,” he shrugged, “Better than pure disdain. You’re also getting sixteen hundred out of it, so it’s not all that bad.”

“You’ll have me with you,” you told him, coming to his side. You examined his finger. You winced at the split skin, “Gosh, doesn’t that hurt?”

“Nope,” he shook his head. “I might not be able to dig into people’s minds or lift them over my head, but I can make them bleed without touching them. That's why she wants me to go so badly.” He then kissed your lips, and said, “You being there will make it so much better.”

Your smile filled his hollowness for a few seconds. “I still want those pancakes when we come back,” you said with a small pout. 

“You’ll get them,” he promised, “And a bit more if we’re up for it.”

“Hongjoong!” his mother screeched from the entry hall.

“Come on,” he slid his good hand into yours, “Before she comes back in here shrieking.” 

The both of you walked outside where he saw Jongho waiting by the door. “Mistress,” he said, “Your mother just sent a messenger. She wants to know when you’re coming to Eden. You have lessons with your Aunt Gaia.” 

“Tomorrow,” you answered as you passed him. “Tell her I had something unexpected come up.”

“Yes, Mistress. I assume I tell Cook to hold off on the breakfast?”

“That too,” you said over your shoulder. 

“As you wish.” 

Walking down the steps into the sunlight, he chuckled. “Aren’t you becoming a real Mistress…”

“I’m only being myself,” you shrugged. “I don’t mind doing stuff on my own, but I won’t complain if someone offers to do it for me.” 

You took to your status easily. He imagined the life you lived above resembled the one down here, minus the CEO position and office jobs. Hongjoong couldn’t imagine working a normal desk job. It sounded dull. He saw the corporate slaves in the official buildings, typing at computers and answering phone calls. Like Mingi said multiple times: demons might scorn humans, but they certainly mimicked them well. They’d adapted a monarchy and class system; they’d rebuilt the barren wasteland of Hell into the flourishing city of Inferno; rather than live in caves or dens, they’d constructed houses and buildings. The volcanic rivers and lakes became utilized for a heat system underneath the city streets. Hongjoong saw it as they stepped into a car and began riding away. Demons of all generations and classes picked up culture and fashion from various periods, causing a period clash that molded together perfectly.

“I remember the first time I came to Hell,” he said out loud, gazing out the window. “I was seventeen and fresh from the living world. My dad threw this huge party for me in his mansion. I’d never been around so many demons before; I thought I’d never fit in with them. Everyone acted so sophisticated and refined, while I was a scruffy street urchin in fancy clothes.”

“Were you scared?”

He thought about it for a moment, “Kind of? I didn’t know anyone besides Seonghwa, and San hadn’t turned seventeen yet so he wasn’t there. I hardly knew my dad and my mom even less.”

“You see him more than her?”

“Yeah. I mean, we’re not close but he invites us to holiday gatherings and we see him during black masses. I’d rather take his company over hers any time.”

“Is that why you’ve been so moody this morning?” you asked him.

“Maybe.”

You wouldn’t get it; not many people did. He thought about the elixir again and wondered how long it takes to get some stupid leaves? He considered asking you to plant some, but the idea left him feeling sick. He didn’t like talking about it. If he talked about it, that meant his problem was real and not in his imagination. He only started taking the stuff when Seonghwa insisted. Even though he enjoyed rebelling against his brother from time to time, he knew Seonghwa meant well.

“You know you can tell me, right?” you said, breaking into his thoughts again.

“I know.”

“Then why don’t you?”

You’re likely not used to seeing him this way. He’s always been the fun, rebellious, handsome brother who fucks you until you’re a incoherent mess. Today, he’d rather be wrapped in blankets and staring into the void.

“Because I’m fine.”

“Hongjoong…”

“I said I’m fine, alright?” he snapped, a tightness forming in his chest. “Why does everyone keep asking me that? I’m good, okay?”

“I’m only worried about you,” you stuck yourself into your side of the backseat, not touching him anymore. “But, whatever.”

He’d hurt you, and he hated himself for it. Hongjoong thought to reach out to you, but he stopped himself. Out of his pocket, he withdrew a flask. In a single swig, the smooth brandy went down his throat sharply. He knew you’d seen him. Mingi, the driver today, saw him in the rearview mirror. Why did people have to stare so much? Why can’t they leave him alone?

“We’re here, sir,,” Mingi’s deep voice broke the silence.

He moved to get out, but Hongjoong opened his own door. He hadn’t intended to slam it. When he looked up, he saw they’d parked in front of the transport station. While trains ran throughout the city, taking people from point A to point B, a special section remained reserved for trips into the living world. He spotted his mother standing near the gates, and he tucked his flask into his back pocket. You walked past him, hardly giving him a glance and likely regretting coming along, and he wanted to take your hand. He wanted to apologize.

“She hates me,” he told Mingi, who came up beside him.

“Hate is a strong word, sir,” he replied, watching you walk towards Youngmi. “She’s just ticked off, that’s all. She really cares about you, Master. We all do.”

Deep down, he knew that.

“Quit dawdling,” his mother called as he approached, “We don’t have all day.”

He considered taking even longer just to annoy her. The blood moon only lasts so long. His eyes met yours, and you looked away from him.

‘Please, don’t look away. I need you. I need you so badly,’ he thought.

“Hongjoong-” his mother started.

“-I fucking heard you,” he remarked at her, pushing past one of her Imps towards the transport gates, “Let’s get this over with.”

He reached the portal gate before the rest of them. At a kiosk, he punched in his name and chose the destination. A white ticket shot out of the slot, and he nearly tore it apart removing it. He didn’t want to be here. He wanted to go home. He wanted to be in his bed, holding you and wishing he never had to wake up again. Yet, here he was, scanning his ticket on the gate to let himself through. He felt several people behind him, their presence irking him the longer he noticed them. Naturally, his mother walked ahead of him to the black and green vortex inside a stone archway.

“I’m doing your stupid ritual and then leaving,” he told her one final time. “You have your little minions wire me my money after.”

“You better watch your tone, boy,” she retorted, “Or I’ll-”

“-What? Ignore me for another ten years? I wish you would.”

“You’re just like your father, you know that?”

“Better than being like you.”

He walked through the portal before her, enjoying the weightlessness in the dark void. It nearly suffocated him before the scent of pine wood and crisp winter air reached him. When he came out the other side, Hongjoong took in deep gulps of air. All around him, he saw a dark, sparse forest of thin trees and leafy grounds. Time in the living world and demon world flipped each other: Hell’s day time was a human’s night time. Seonghwa would have some scientific explanation for it that he’d tune out when it got too complicated.

“The breeze is so wonderful,” Youngmi inhaled deeply. “Hell never has any seasons.”

“It’s Hell. It’s supposed to be hot.”

Youngmi rolled her eyes, “Follow me.”

Hongjoong looked over his shoulder to you next to Mingi, taking deep breaths. He should’ve been the one explaining and preparing you. He felt like a total dick now.

“Hongjoong!”

If she called his name one more time, he’d find the sharpest stick he could and stab himself with it. Then, he could watch her bleed for once. Hongjoong moved along with her Imps, the small child-like demons who live to serve. He never particularly liked them. Their uncanny appearance to children freaked him out, but not as much as the witches up ahead. In the darkness of the forest, he saw a bright orange and yellow glowing between them. He could hear mad cackling, cheering and saw shadows dance around the large fire.

“The Grand High Witch approaches!” one of the Imps said in his gravelly voice, calling the witches’ attention. “All hail the Grand High Witch!”

“Hail the Grand High Witch!”

Oh, she loved this. Hongjoong did not need to see her face as she strutted up to the clearing with her head up high. He wished he could smell the ocean, but the smoke and fire overpowered it. When he pushed past the clearing, he hoped none of them noticed him. However, they did.

“Master!” one witch hissed, bowing awkwardly to him. It was awkward for her because her hunched back made it difficult. Her pale skin was marked by black holes, and her black lips were cracked and hung open. “Master, you came! You came!”

“We’re delighted to see you, Master,” another said. When he looked, he saw whom he called ‘The Twins’. Two women stuck together by the waist, their long mottled claws reached out to him with their black eyes full of lust and longing. “Yes,” said the one on the left, “So delighted.”

“Um, yes, evening ladies.”

They simpered at his awkward greeting. A witch with an elongated face and a long crooked nose grinned at him with rotten teeth, while another stood at hip height reaching out for him. His stomach churned seeing them. He wished they’d use their human forms.

“Who is she?!” a very tall witch, bony and stooped, pointed at you. “We already have a cambion!”

“She’s with me,” Hongjoong grunted at her, moving over to take your hand. He saw the shock in your eyes at the sight of the dozens of witches in front of you. "Stick close to me,” he assured you, knowing your fear outweighed your resentment towards him. Your fingers sliding between his kept him from drifting. “It won’t take long. I promise.”

The crowd of witches parted as he guided you in front of him. They hissed and snarled at you. One snapped her large jaws, laughing when you flinched.

“She looks tasty…” a witch with spikes coming from her head came to your side. It wasn’t her who spoke, it was the face in her throat. “Scrumptious.”

“I can smell your fear, little girl,” said another, her head similar to a skeleton head with skin, “You’ll make a fine feast.”

“Back off,” Hongjoong growled, baring his canine teeth and flaring the crimson in his eyes. He didn’t bring out his true form very often, but he would for you. “Before I shove you all in the fire!”

As he guided you by the waist, Hongjoong noticed your soft skin gradually turned hard. When he put his full hand on it, he felt the roughness of tree bark. It started at your waist and went up your sides. Armor? He knew you’d started taking lessons with Rhea, who taught you combat and defense skills. He didn’t think you’d gotten that far already.

“We’ll only take a bite!”

A witch with horns all around her head moved forward before a silver blade reached her throat. Mingi, stone-faced and cold, held his blade to her neck.

“Take a bite and I take your life,” he said, deep black eyes glaring at her as his skin slowly turned a light red. “Understand, witch?”

“Ye-yes, Master.”

Finally reaching the front of the crowd, Hongjoong saw a large black cauldron on top of a stone platform. The first time he’d seen it, he recalled the putrid scent coming up from the boiling pot. He remembered the heat against his skin, the steam burning him as she hung his hand over the potion. Hongjoong gripped your waist without meaning to, knowing he’d have to do that again. Looking into the sky, he saw a full moon hanging in the pitch blackness. Soon, an eclipse will occur that will turn the moon from its bright white to deep red. In the rays of its light, the ritual will be performed.

“Daughters!” his mother raised her hands for silence, “Tonight, we gather underneath our sacred moon to fortify and strengthen your powers! With the blood of humans, you maintain your youth. With the blood of a half-breed, you maintain your physical form! And with the blood of a demon of transference,” she glanced over at him, “You maintain your immortality.”

The witches around him hissed, clicking and growling their approval. “Saia, Beatrice!” his mother called to a witch nearby, “Bring out the human first!”

“Oh my god…” he heard you breathe.

“Please! Please, let me go! Please!”

She must’ve been nineteen or twenty-years-old, he deduced. Long blond hair that shone in the firelight, her porcelain skin and slim body made her a perfect candidate. Two witches dragged her over to the cauldron, the woman kicking and screaming between them. Hongjoong watched them force her up onto a step while his mother withdrew a long, curved knife. She began speaking in Latin, a language Hongjoong never bothered to learn, but context told him everything.

“They’re not…” you whispered to him, “They’re not going to-to kill her?”

“That’s exactly what they’re going to do.”

“Stop! Please! Someone help me!” the woman shrieked, tears streaming down her cheeks as the witches held her over the cauldron.

The steam and smell made her turn her head, but one of them forced her to face forward. Her terror did not last long. In the last few words, Youngmi put the blade across the girl’s long neck. You turned away right as blood shot out of the wound and into the cauldron. He held you close, your scent overpowering the stench around him.

“Now,” his mother said, “The cambion!”

“Let me go, you bitches!”

A man this time. No doubt they lured him with their disguised beauty. Like with the woman, they held him over the cauldron as his mother said the second verse. A bit stronger, he managed to break free of their hold, but only for a moment. Slamming his head onto the cauldron’s rim, Youngmi took the chance to slit his throat as well. The potion glowed a deep scarlet color, which will only get darker with his blood added.

“You stay here,” he told you gently.

“No, Hongjoong,” you pleaded, “Don’t go.”

“I’ll be fine,” he assured you, kissing your forehead.

“And finally, my daughters, the blood of a demon!”

One witch tried grabbing him, but he shrugged her off. Hongjoong really wanted to know how a demon gets banned from the living world, and why she didn’t find another. Climbing the steps, he took his mother’s knife and stood next to the cauldron. Six-year-old Hongjoong screamed, cried and begged his mother not to do it. He’d never felt such terror before. But, two-hundred-and-sixty-nine year old Hongjoong knew better now. While his mother and her followers chanted the last stanza of the incantation, he quickly slid the blade along his injured finger to reopen it. The witch across him hissed as her own finger split open. When the first few drops fell into the potion, the smoke billowed thick with the scent of blood. He coughed as it entered his lungs and plugged up his nose. He squeezed his blood into it, then stepped back from the cauldron.

His mother waved her hands around the pot, finishing off the spell while he came back to you. Mingi offered him a handkerchief for his finger, but he only had eyes for you. He saw the terror in your eyes, though you did your best not to show it. You kept yourself from staring at any witch for too long; he saw you already figuring out an escape route as he saw your midsection and shoulders thicken. Daughters of Eden didn’t particularly need metal armor, even if the guards wore it.

“Hey,” he cupped your cheek with his clean hand, “Don’t be scared.”

"Are you serious right now?”

“Okay, yeah I know, but we’re going home,” he assured you. “They won’t hurt you with me around.”

“Drink, my daughters! Come and drink! Receive your blessings!”

Witches flocked to the platform, taking out cups from their cloaks. Hongjoong held you to his chest, about to turn you around to go home when another voice rang out.

“Ladies! How lovely to see you all here!”

A man in a long coat with a vest and ruffled shirt came out of the shadows. Black curls hung around his face and over his red eyes. People told him that his brothers all looked like Asmodeus in one way or another. Seonghwa had his long curls; San had his golden brown skin, and Hongjoong had his narrow nose. The witches all turned at his voice, delighted by the sight of their master, and bowed to him at once. It was only Youngmi who glared at him.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, ladling potion into a witch’s cup.

“I was told you’d kidnapped my son,” Asmodeus said, walking further into the clearing. He stared around the semi-circle overlooking the cliffs. “This is a great meeting place,” he whistled his approval. “I think we’ll have our next black mass in these woods. They’re remote, old, and there’s plenty of camping space around here.”

“Get out,” Youngmi hissed.

“Come on, don’t be like that,” his father groaned. “I didn’t come here for any of you, even though…” he walked over to the twins, touching each of their long chins as they sighed dreamily, “I wouldn’t mind partaking while I’m here. How’re my favorite twins doing?”

“Do you have to ruin everything, Asmodeus?” she snapped.

“Hey, you’re the one that took my boy for this strange ritual of yours,” he quipped. He turned from the twins to see Hongjoong nearby. “There you are, Joongie!” he walked over to him, and they clasped hands before hugging. “There’s my handsome boy,” he patted Hongjoong’s back, smiling warmly. He spotted Hongjoong’s bleeding finger, “It doesn’t hurt, right?”

“It hurt someone, just not me,” he replied, which amused his father.

“Good boy, good boy.” His eyes landed on you, and the flirtation turned on again. “Hello there,” he said, drawing closer to you, “Aren’t you a lovely one? Are you new? I don’t see any rot in you at all.” He caressed your cheek, but you moved away. This only made the demon prince chuckle, “Don’t be shy, sweetheart. I don’t bite…unless you ask me to.”

“She’s with me, Dad,” Hongjoong got in between you both, “And she’s your great niece.”

Clarity came to him right away, “She’s Andromeda’s girl? Well, how nice to finally meet you. Your grandmother didn’t shut up about you when I visited yesterday. You really are a beauty,” he moved around Hongjoong towards you. “You should come visit my mansion sometime. I can show you a few tricks of my own.”

“What’s up, Dad?” he stood in front of you again. He knew with enough eye-contact and persuasion, you’d become putty in his father’s hands. “I thought you’d be at the keep.”

“I was, and your brothers told me you’d be here. Listen, son,” he fixed his coat as he said, “I’m having a gathering at my place this weekend.”

“For what?”

He glimpsed over at you as he said, “The Passionate Heart Ball.” He walked around Hongjoong again to you, “It’s an important celebration to us demons of lust, you see. It happens at the first full moon of spring. It’s when our powers are the strongest,” he played with the end of a stray hair, “Where our seed is most potent and we become…truly primal. You could ask your mates all about it: there’s lots of wine, food and fucking going on there.”

“That sounds…interesting, I guess.”

“You’re in Hell, darling. There’s no way you’ve never had a cock before,” he said, voice low with lust. “Not if you’ve been hanging around my boys. Oh…” he exhaled deeply, “I bet your orgasms sound sweet. I’d love to hear them myself-”

“-Seriously, Dad?” Hongjoong interrupted. “We’ll go to the damn ball. You know where to send the details.”

“Don’t be greedy, boy,” he said over his shoulder. “You get to fuck this one whenever you like. Isn’t that right, angel?”

“That’s right.” 

Hongjoong froze. Your voice, breathy and low, told him everything he needed to know.

“How about we ditch this place and go somewhere more private, hm?” his father’s hands traced your shoulder up to your collar, “Where I can see just how beautiful girls from Eden are.”

“I don’t think you want to do that, Uncle,” you said, your own voice flirty and sultry. “I’ve been told my kisses alone can be pretty dangerous.”

“Is that right?” he leaned in closer.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Your sons can go for hours with a kiss or two from me.”

“Ha, I don’t need a kiss to do that,” he said. “I’m lust personified, honey. I can fuck pretty things like you for days.”

“Days? That’s excessive, no?”

“Excess is what I love. Just like how much I love gorgeous women with gorgeous tits.”

“Dad!” Hongjoong felt anger flare in his chest, and he pulled you away from him. “Come on, seriously? My mate?”

“Mate?”

“No harm in a little romp,” his father reasoned, hands in the air. “She must be special if even my Hongjoong doesn’t want to share her with me. How many of these did we take together during mass? Ten? Eleven?”

“I lost count after six, if I’m honest.”

His father laughed, distracted by the joke. He rung an arm around Hongjoong’s shoulders, “Bring her to the ball.”

“She’s not a lust demon.”

“I don’t care. Your other siblings will be bringing their pleasure slaves and mates. She can be your plus-one.” He looked back over at you, “Wear something easy to take off. You won’t be clothed very long.”

You smiled shyly, turning away at his forwardness. Hongjoong scowled at his father, who gave you a wink. “See you at the ball, son.”

He gave another hug before walking over to a group of witches. Hongjoong scoffed his disgust, moving towards you. “Let’s get out of here before he starts a full blown orgy,” Hongjoong said, but then he saw your expression. Intrigue filled your pretty eyes, scanning over his father’s athletic, slim body. “Really, babe? My dad? Your great uncle?”

“What?” you groaned, “He’s hot. Sorry I’m not made of stone. You don’t mind the incest when it’s us and your brothers.”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

“We actually love you, whereas my dad will pound into you for a few hours and then forget your name.”

“If you love me,” you put the handkerchief to his bleeding hand, “Why won’t you tell me what’s really bugging you?”

“It’s…complicated.”

“Then help me understand,” you said.

He saw witches who’d drunk their potion moving over to his father. The man truly slept with anyone or anything. It disgusted him, and he liked most things. Hongjoong didn’t speak as he took you away from the frivolity into the forest. Out of their notice, he guided you to a spot where the moonlight still shone on you. If anything made him feel better, it’d be a few minutes alone with you. 

“Aren’t we going back to that portal thing?” you asked him, worry in your voice.

“Not right now,” he said.

“Where’s Mingi?”

“Probably still in the clearing. If he’s lucky, one of them turned into a hot girl for him to plug up for a while.”

“Do you always have to be so obscene?”

“Yes. Yes, I do.”

Through a thicket of trees, Hongjoong brought you out of range of the clearing. He leaned against one of the trees, withdrawing his flask to take another swig. The cool breeze went across his hot cheeks to fill his lungs with fresh air. You stood beside him, where you took his flask and drank some yourself.

“There’s days…” he explained, “There’s days where I get this hollow feeling.”

“Hollow?”

“Empty. I can’t enjoy or experience anything because this emptiness sits inside me and takes up space,” he said. “I feel weighed down. I feel useless and unhappy. I start remembering things, and it only makes it worse,” he took the flask back from you and gulped some down. He let you have the last bit of it as he said, “I force myself to do things because I have to, but all I really want to do is stay in bed and let it swallow me whole.”

“I wouldn’t really know anything about that,” you told him, finishing the flask. “It sounds shitty.”

“It is. I normally take this elixir Yunho makes,” he said, “But he hasn’t had the ingredients for it so I’ve sort of been managing without it.”

“And self-medicating,” you added.

“That too.”

“Then coming here must’ve really been rough for you. Your mother is a real piece of work.”

“You don’t even know half of it.”

“You know you have me,” you told him, taking his injured hand. His finger healed up well, so the only thing you did was wipe off the caked blood. “I might not be able to make potions or anything like that to help, but I’m here if you need someone to stay in bed with you.”

“It’s what I wanted to do,” he said, “But then this happened. Now, my dad is here too? I wish I had more whiskey.”

“Your dad doesn’t seem as bad. He’s definitely better than mine.”

“He’s the lesser of two evils for sure.”

“He can’t be all that bad. My dad never invited me to orgies before.” 

The both of you shared a glance in the dark, the red moon giving just enough light to see your face. He could hear the orgy beginning right on the other side of the bushes. Your beauty astounded him every time. If anything distracted him from his hollowness, it’d be you and your smile.

“A lot of people have shitty parents,” you said, hands sliding onto his chest. “My dad was a mean sonofabitch who liked hitting women and drinking. My mom tells me it’s because of the war-”

“-Your dad was a veteran?-”

“-Yeah, WW2,” you nodded. “He didn’t talk about it, but when I think about him now, I sort of see it. There'd been times that he seemed  there but not there? He sat there physically, but mentally he went somewhere else. My mom told me he became this empty shell when he returned home,” you said. “Is that kind of the same for you?”

“Yeah,” he said. “When I was a kid, I didn’t have Seonghwa’s aristocratic upbringing. I lived in a village with an old witch who’d rather eat me than hug me, and I was left alone a lot.” He let his thumb trace over the necklace you wore today. An opal inlaid with stones, it stood out against your sweater. “I committed crimes. I drank a lot. I went to prison a few times, and that wasn’t exactly a holiday in the Bahamas.” 

“You went to prison? How old were you?”

“Eight. Things have drastically changed since then, obviously,” he said. “They didn’t have juvenile prisons back then. You either went to big boy jail or a reform school; both are equally horrible. The only good thing I got out of it was I sort of honed my skills there? I learned I had transference, so whenever an overseer or officer beat me, it hurt them more. They couldn’t explain it. I think it sort of scared them?” Hongjoong didn’t like thinking about the cruel guards and their unusual punishments. “Things only changed when Seonghwa came. I’d killed the witch I lived with and he came to get me. There I had to be a proper gentleman. I had to go to boring lessons where they taught me how to read and write; they dressed me in fancy clothing with too many layers and taught me how to dance and table etiquette. I hated it. It wasn’t me. When I finally came down here, it was a whole new thing. I could be me and nobody could say anything. I didn’t think my hollowness would find me down here, but it did. It did…”

“Which sounds awful,” you said, kissing his lips. The faint sounds of moaning and groaning caught both of you, and you glanced through the bushes. “I can imagine having a dad like that didn’t make things easy.”

“He’s meant to be a demon who can read people’s emotions, but he seemed to never read mine,” he sighed, seeing his dad kissing the siamese twins. “He might not be Dad of the Year, but he still showed more interest in me than he did my brothers.”

“Why’s that?”

“I’m the ‘Handsome One’.”

You laughed, “Really?”

He pinched your arm lightly, “What do you mean ‘really’?”

“No, no, I didn’t mean it like that,” you assured him. “All three of you are handsome. Why does he have a favorite?”

“I’m the most like him, Seonghwa told me once. San is more into athletics and fighting. Seonghwa likes his books, poetry and philosophy. I was the one who liked having weekend orgies, flirting with anything that looked good, and indulged in his interests,” he shrugged. “To him, I’m the attractive brother. At the mass, I was the one he kept inviting to his tent for his private parties. I don’t know if you noticed, but rather than wait for me to come home, he came here.”

“And yet, he can’t tell that something is bothering his favorite son?”

“Nope.”

He turned to see his father tilting his head back as the twins worked him. Witches all around him paired up to engage in their own desires. He noticed his mother mysteriously disappeared. “He’s usually too busy with his own things to notice anything outside of himself.”

“I notice,” you said, and he heard the drop in your voice. “There really isn’t anything I can do to make you feel better?”

He inhaled deep when your hand slid down to his belt buckle. His hands went up your sides where he felt your supple flesh once more. You brought him in for a kiss, and Hongjoong didn’t protest when your tongue tenderly passed his lips. That heady endorphin your kiss brought hit him almost immediately. He pulled your sweater out from under your skirt, and slipped his hands underneath. Your fingers delicately danced over his torso, sliding over the flatness to his chest. Hongjoong gasped softly when your thumbs brushed his nipples. He unclipped your bra, which took your passion up a notch. Leaning against the thick tree trunk, he lifted one leg to his waist to pull your sex to his own.

“No panties,” he groaned between kisses, “Again, pet?”

“I stopped seeing the point,” you giggled, pecking his lips. “You know I love being fucked just as much as you love fucking me.”

He lifted the back of your skirt to grope the soft cheeks that filled his hands. Not a stitch of clothing kept Hongjoong from spreading and squeezing them. He lost himself in you. Your body pressed to his brought on a new feeling that overpowered the hollowness. It took up space in him that made him forget everything that happened. All he wanted was you. The clinking of his belt buckle alone accelerated his arousal, causing him to push you into his bulge more. He could have you just like this, right there in the light of a blood moon. There, he'd have his own special ritual. 

His lips broke from yours to groan when you reached into his jeans. Your hand, cold from the climate, shocked his hot muscle. The coolness against the heat had him moving into your hand for more. You glided your hand as he continued kissing down your neck and grabbing your ass. Every sensation he hoped to grab reached him the longer you stroked him. Once he grew hard enough, you pulled him from his boxers to keep rubbing him. This let him lift your shirt and bra over your breasts so he could suck the hard nipples underneath. One hand massaging them, the other reached between your thighs to your slick sex. Your wet clitoris jutted from your folds as if asking to be touched by him; your folds already puffy and wet on his fingers, he had no trouble sliding to your entrance. 

“Don’t stop,” you whimpered in a kiss, “Please.”

“As long as you don’t.”

Spinning you around, Hongjoong nearly slammed you into the tree as he kept one leg at his hip. Your eyes closed with one swift push into your heat; the penetration bringing relief to both of you. His hands under your thighs, your arms went around his neck to help keep yourself stable in his grasp. Once inside you, Hongjoong didn’t stop. Lips attached to yours again, he kept a steady stride in each thrust. Even with the burning in his arms and legs, Hongjoong chased after the desperation for release. Putting a hand to your throat, he gently squeezed as he pinned you to the tree and picked up the pace. His balls slapped against your soft ass cheeks; his cock pushed deep through your bumpy walls, their taut squeezes driving him insane. 

“Fuck, that feels so good,” you said through gritted teeth, strained by his hand on your neck. “Fuck me, Master. Please, fuck me. Use my pussy to cum.”

“I plan to,” he grunted, tucking your skirt into the waistband for glimpses of your full sex. “Just a pretty hole for me to use whenever I want,” he said, watching himself slide in and out of you. “Are these mine?” he asked in a groan, pumping you faster. “Are your holes mine?”

“Yes,” you whined, “Yes, Master. They’re yours.”

You cried when he withdrew, panting as he turned you to face the tree. He forced you into an arch, then shoved himself back into your heat. The smacking of his lower stomach to your ass joined the lewd sounds it created. He watched your fingers dig into the thick tree bark, smiling as you moaned up into the heavens for him. Keeping one hand on your shoulder, he pinned you to the tree as he slapped your ass cheeks. The harsh smacks must be heard even through the bundle of trees and bushes between you two and the clearing. He loved the way you yelped if he smacked particularly hard or in the right place; how your ass bounced as your need for release grew. Hongjoong made deep thrusts that he swore reached right into your stomach and arranged your insides. 

“Doesn’t she look beautiful?”

Hongjoong might’ve jumped at his father’s appearance had he not been overcome with your drug. Asmodeus stood a few feet away with the humpback and the horned witch naked and rubbing up and down his body. Hongjoong leaned forward and grabbed your breasts, still pushing and pounding you hard. He heard his father’s low groans, suspecting one witch started filling her mouth with him. Hongjoong turned you sideways, lifted your other leg up and gave him a view of your cunt wrapped around his wet cock. 

“Oooh, that’s a nice one,” his father groaned, eyeing where you both met. 

“So nice,” he huffed, “And it’s all mine.”

“Yes, it is,” you giggled, hand around the nape of his neck as you stayed completely still. He felt your nails dig into his flesh, the slight pain pushing him further. “All yours.”

Hongjoong pulled out a moment, tapping and sliding himself on your clit. “I can never get enough of this,” he said, loving the sloppy sounds the touch made. “I end up fucking her until I’m empty.”

“As you should with a beauty like that.”

Pushing back in, he lifted your sweater over your breasts more to see them bounce as he fucked you. “And I love emptying you,” you breathed, moving from your position to squat down on the floor, “Especially if you do it in my mouth.”

Hand in your hair, Hongjoong forced himself into your open mouth. You held onto the trunk while he started pushing to your face. He loved your mouth as much as the other holes. Your mouth sucking his tip and shaft the right amount of firmness had Hongjoong trembling in place in minutes. Blinding passion shut his eyes the moment his body stiffened in his clothes. Every suck suddenly became sensitive as he started squirting into your mouth. You elevated it by sliding him to the back of your throat to let him shoot further down. In the faint light, he saw his cum dripping from the sides of your mouth to your chin. When he pulled out, still hard and pulsing, he saw the few strings keeping you connected. 

“I’m not empty,” he said, slapping his leaking head on your tongue. “I think you need to fix that or otherwise my dad will think you’re not serving me well. You don’t want the Prince of Lust thinking you’re not making his son happy, right?”

“Of course not,” you replied, stroking him slowly as you licked down to his balls. “I’d hate to leave a bad impression, Master.”

“Ass in the air,” he said, grinding his balls to your mouth for gentle sucks from your lips. 

You assumed the position in the dirt, ass up towards him to give him complete control of you. Hands hooked to your skirt’s waistband, he forced you down onto his still hard cock, and used it to guide you along his length. 

“Fuck me,” he ordered, smacking your ass. “I’m the master. I’m not doing the work. Fuck me, slut.”

While his father began fingering the horned witch as the other pushed her sex to his crotch, Hongjoong and you fucked on the ground. His father had no idea the effect your saliva had on people. Perhaps even he would regret inviting you once he’s had a taste of you. You kept the same speed until you began shaking and throbbing on him. Hongjoong knelt there and watched you completely spiral in front of him. He didn’t care if his father saw it. Your pussy creaming and coating his dick caused the muscle to vibrate inside you, as he’d done that first night with you. A gift he inherited from his father. This heightened your orgasm, and you became needier. 

“Keep going,” you whined, your climax subsiding. “Please, Master. Please?”

“I suppose I can.”

And there you continued. The hollowness disappeared the more times he came inside or on you. Clothes and bodies soon smeared with dirt and leaves, muscles tense and shaking each time, Hongjoong let himself be taken over by you. By the time the drug wore off, you both laid on the ground in a messy heap. He left soft kisses on your jawline and neck, his entire body like a puddle of jello. While you drifted to sleep on the floor, he stayed there and looked at you as the sun rose up. 

“She is quite something,” his father said. Both witches laid their heads on his bare thighs, nude and sweaty from pleasuring their master. He leaned against the tree, pushing hair from his face. “I’d hoped to have my turn, but I suppose she’s all spent now.”

“You’ll have her one day, I have no doubt, Dad,” he replied, not looking at him. He smiled softly when you sniffled in your sleep. 

“It’s nice to see you have a girl that makes you smile.” When Hongjoong looked up at him, he said, “I was an angel once, son. I can sense the good and the evil in people. That means I can see their happiness as well as their sadness. I don’t know anything about all this new mental health stuff, but…I know, Hongjoong. I know.” 

From his pant’s pocket on the floor, he withdrew a small pouch and tossed it to him. Hongjoong opened it to see a bundle of mint leaves inside. 

“Give that to your butler,” he said, starting to shut his eyes. “You are not the only one who feels hollow.” 

Neither of them spoke, but Hongjoong nodded his appreciation. He rested beside you, arms around your waist and face close to yours. 

Yes, he certainly preferred his father over his mother. 

***

A/N: aww, the "handsome one" really has some parental issues. I hope you guys really liked this one, I have San's coming soon after <3

[silentglassbreak]

ok bestie I have a request for my delulu self mwuah

my scenario:

Noah’s your hot neighbor, lives in the apartment across the hall. you’ve really only spoken in passing— to exchange pleasantries and phone numbers, just in case— but you did have takeout with him and his rowdy group of guy friends (Folio, Ruffilo, and Jolly, who else?) when he was first moving in. a thank you for moving one single box (that’s all they let you touch before one of them was grabbing it out of your hands). Noah mumbles something about him not about to let “his pretty new neighbor carry his shit.”

one night you touch yourself to the thought of him, you might moan his name 🤭— he’s not even home half the time, what are the chances he’d hear you? except he does. because he’s home and the walls are thin. and your phone dings with his text.

want some help, sweetheart? ft. Noah sleeping over please!!!

preferably anonymous other than x fem!reader but I like pet names!!! sweetheart, baby, angel are my favorites <33

I know it’s a lot of details, you don’t have to include them all, it’s more so to give you an idea of the vibe 💖💖 utterly filthy but still he’s still a softie and a sweetheart

thank you this is actually so cool of you mwuah

Mmmm we love a good hot neighbor trope, yeah? What a cutie patootie he is, eh?

Mkay, let’s get into this.

After Writing Notes: This man will be the death of me…

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: smut, dirty talk, Noah being an absolute munch 😜

Skin

“Good morning, Angel.” His deep voice rings in my ears, and there he is, as he always is, sitting on his balcony, joint in his hand, guitar perched against the rail. He’s likely writing again, but Christ, does he have to always be out there at 7AM? I hate being up this early, and am never in the mood to speak to anyone.

I just want to sip my coffee, clear my cobwebs, and mentally prepare for my workday. The shop is packed, and my books are completely full, my first session starting at 9AM. I don’t have time for his early-bird antics today, nor the patience.

“Morning.” I grumble between sips of steaming hot coffee.

“Sleep well?” He pushes his joint out in the ashtray, careful not to damage it, obviously saving it for later.

“Mmph.” Is all I can muster while leaning back in my chair, pulling my sweater tighter around me. The crisp October morning has brought about hues of orange and amber in the trees surrounding the building. My favorite time of year.

“Busy day today? Must be if you’re up at this hour.”

I sigh heavily, eyes darting to him. His pale yellow hoodie and black beanie look so perfectly placed.

Noah is attractive, there is no arguing it, but he’s annoying. He’s always so positive and chipper. His friends are always over, as upbeat as he is. They’re in a band, and to be fair, they aren’t bad. They just like to start practicing at 10AM, on Sundays, which are the only days I get to sleep in.

I like them. On occasion, they’ll invite me over for pizza and to watch hockey, which I usually accept. None of them have ever been creepy or made a pass at me, which is so refreshing.

Noah does some mild flirting, using pet names instead of my actual name. Nick let it slip once that it’s because his ex has the same middle name as my first name, and that bugs him. He would rather not associate me with someone like her. I suppose that’s fair, so I’ve let it go. They’re all sweet, non-provocative names anyway.

“All booked today.” I slipped out.

He nodded. “I plan to schedule with you soon.”

I rolled my eyes. “You say that every week, Noah.”

His guitar was now dutifully placed on his lap, his fingers strumming a slow melody. “True, but the struggling musician lifestyle doesn’t exactly come with a wad of cash.”

I smirked. “Told you I’d discount you.”

“Discount as in…free?” I chuckled.

Despite hating his early routine, he usually did manage to perk me up in the mornings.

I stood up, opening the sliding door and slipping inside. “Keep dreamin’, champ.”

-

The day had been absolutely brutal. My wrists were still vibrating from holding my machine the entire day. I had hoped my last client would be done two hours earlier, but he had to keep taking breaks. Because of that fact, my hands were extra tired, and there was no way I could finish my sketch in preparation for tomorrow’s client, so I had to wake up early again.

Slinging my bag over the back of the couch, I huffed out a groan as I slumped down onto it. Days like today were becoming more and more frequent, and I was exhausted. I needed to clear my books for a week and have a staycation. Do nothing and see no one.

Heaving myself up, I made my way to the bathroom, taking my hair out of the tight bun it had been kept in all day. My fingers scrubbed at my scalp before I turned the water of the shower on.

I let my wrists and hands sit under the scalding spray for what felt like hours, just trying to loosen the joints. Afterwards, I massaged a brutal amount of lidocaine cream on them to ease the tension.

Pouring myself a glass of red wine, I stepped out onto my balcony with my favorite sweatshirt and the latest book my sister had recommended to me. It was a love story with very light smut, so she figured I’d enjoy it. If only she had known the types of stories I read regularly.

Still, I humored her.

Flipping on my porch light, I leaned back on my chair and pulled a blanket from my basket over me, covering my bare legs.

“Hey, sweetheart.” I startled, nearly spilling wine all over the pages.

“Jesus Christ, Noah!”

He chuckled. “I’m sorry, I thought you saw me.”

“No, gosh you almost gave me a stroke.”

His eyes peered over the separating railing at me. “Whatcha reading?”

I snorted, taking a gulp of my wine. “Some romance novel my sister keeps bugging me to read.”

He nodded his chin at this, not verbally responding. I noted the beer in his hand, and his eyes peering out at the city below.

I didn’t know Noah well at all. In fact, I knew so little that it was almost freaky, given that I saw him all the time. That’s the price I pay for being closed off. I do, however, know that he doesn’t drink much at all, and typically only does when something is bothering him.

“You okay?” I closed my book around my fingers so as to not lose my place.

He didn’t look up at me or respond, just took a pull from his beer.

No quips or witty remarks? This was even more unlike him.

“Bad day?”

He nodded.

“Want to talk about it?” He didn’t say no, but he didn’t say anything. He just sighed heavily. I pursed my lips, watching as his eyes stayed trained on the lights flickering off in the distance of Los Angeles, entranced in his own mind.

Then an idea sparked. “Oh! I know!” I set my book down, and stood up. He looked at me, finally. “Stay there! I know what you need!”

He quirked an eyebrow and took another swig from his bottle. I ran inside, grabbing the grocery bag inside my work tote, the goodies still untouched from my way home. When I came back out, I reached in the bag, pulling out the yellow package.

“Catch.” I chucked it at him, which he caught one handed. He scanned the bag, and smiled.

“All pink and red Starburst.” He looked back up at me. “You know what I needed.”

I smirked, pulling my other candy out of the bag, Sweettart Ropes, and began munching. He popped the bag of his own candy open and began unwrapping the tiny cubes.

“Now do you want to talk about it?”

Looking down at the wrapper balled up in his hand, he sighed hard, chewing the soft candy.

“We met with our label today.” His beanie from earlier was still on his head, perfectly placed. “They want us to join a tour.”

I chewed my ropes, speaking around the candy in my mouth. “And that’s bad? I thought that was part of being a band? Isn’t that how you make good money?”

He nodded, drinking more of his beer. “It can be, but I’m nervous. And they’re pressuring us.”

“What do you have to be nervous for? You’re super talented.”

He looked over, raising a suspicious eyebrow. “When have you ever heard our music?”

I scoffed. “Every Sunday morning through the paper thin walls.”

This made him laugh, which was a nice sound in comparison to his previously somber tone.

“I just recently started working on my vocals. Our early stuff was mostly all screaming. This last album has singing, though. I don’t feel ready to perform that live.”

I nodded. “Well, you practice, I know that.”

“Yeah, but it’s not that simple. I’ve got to know I can do it. I can’t second guess myself or I fuck up. I know it.” He sighed hard, setting the candy and beer on his table, and pressed the heel of his palms into his eyes.

“Mm,” I swallowed my candy. “is it a crowd thing?”

“I’m not really sure.” He rested his elbows on his knees. “I feel like it’s a being put on the spot, thing? I don’t know.”

I mulled this around. “I see.” I played with the idea in my brain before speaking. “So sing to me.”

His eyes shot up. “What?”

“Sing to me, Noah. Right here, right now.”

“The fuck? I can’t just do that.” He looked bewildered.

“Why not? It’s about being put on the spot. So sing to me.”

Noah stared at me as if I was insane. “What do I even sing? I don’t know any Taylor Swift songs.”

I scrunched my nose up at that. “Gross. No thank you.” He chuckled at that. “Sing me something of yours.”

He shook his head. “You won’t like our music.”

“Sure I do! I know you sing one about lions? Sing me that one!”

He all out laughed then. “The one about lions? Are you kidding?!”

I joined in on his laughter. “It’s the only one I remember.”

He groaned. “You’re serious?”

I sat back in my chair, chewing my candy, silently making it clear I was dead serious. He rolled his eyes and stood up.

“Hang on.” He disappeared inside. I took a large gulp of my wine, and waited.

He returned a few minutes later with his acoustic guitar, the one he usually had in the mornings. He also had taken off his beanie and sweatshirt, his tattooed arms and freshly cut hair on display. Were his arms always so muscular? No, he had definitely been working out.

“Alright, I’ll play you the one about lions, but please don’t laugh if I go off-key?”

I leaned forward, glass in hand, giving him my full attention. “Never.”

He sighed, and strummed the opening riffs of the song. It was slower, and sadder than when I had heard him practice it.

“You set me up as a villain, but you never mentioned the root of the problem. Took what you wanted and flipped it, but you won’t be dragging my name to the bottom.”

Noah’s voice was melodic, perfectly on key.

“So much unsaid. Left me for dead. I won’t forget.”

The song sounded more powerful in this style.

“Well everyone’s listening. And they know the difference. You’re not failing our senses.”

His fingers stopped strumming for a beat.

“If you’re throwing me to the lions, you should know I’m not scared of dying. I wouldn’t take back one thing I did. One word I said, but I’m going to make you wish you did.”

I smiled at the chorus, now remembering why I remember the lions.

“Jump to conclusions, they fall for illusions, but you weren’t there trying to stop them. You’re going low at the end of the road, but that won’t be the path that I follow.”

I finished my wine, setting the glass down and intertwining my fingers.

“So much unsaid, left me for dead. I won’t forget.”

He stopped strumming again, and I noticed he had his eyes closed. He hadn’t opened them once.

“Well everyone’s listening. And they know the difference. You’re not failing our senses.”

“If you’re throwing me to the lions, you should know I’m not scared of dying. I wouldn’t take back one thing I did. One word I said. But I’m going to make you wish you did.”

The chord progression changed leading into the bridge.

“I’m holding on to this until the scale’s untilted.”

He stopped, his pitch rising.

“Well everyone’s listening, and they know the difference. You’re not failing our senses, but you’re pushing my limits.”

“If you’re throwing me to the lions, you should know I’m not scared of dying. I wouldn’t take back one thing I did. One word I said. Oh-whoa.”

I leaned back in my chair, thoroughly enjoying this private show I was receiving.

“If you’re throwing me to the lions, you should now I’m not scared of dying. I wouldn’t take back one thing I did. One word I said. Oh God, I’ll make you wish you did.”

He strummed the final chord and opened his eyes. I was smiling from ear to ear. I clapped my hands together, which made him blush.

“Oh stop.” He set his guitar down, leaning back in his chair and grabbing his beer.

“That was fantastic, Noah!”

He shook his head. “It was okay. I wasn’t on key the entire second chorus.”

I rolled my eyes. “Are you always this hard on yourself?”

He smirked. “Always.”

“Please tell me that song is called Lions.”

This made him genuinely laugh. He shook his head. “It’s called Limits.”

“Mm, close enough.” He smirked at me.

“You really liked it?”

I nodded in response. “I did. It was really beautiful.”

His eyebrow raised and his thumb traced the rim of the beer bottle.

“You’re really beautiful.”

My stomach dropped clean out of my body, and my expression stilled. He didn’t waver, however, staring at me with a stern expression.

“Thank you.” Was all I could manage to say.

He nodded in acknowledgement, throwing back the bottle and tossing it into the trash can next to his table.

“Well, it’s past my bedtime. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

I smiled. “Bright and early.”

He grinned back. “Goodnight, Angel.”

“Goodnight, Noah.”

-

I tossed and turned in bed, sleep being the farthest thing from me. I had to get some rest, as I had to be up in less than eight hours, but even the wine hadn’t been able to wash the day off of me.

To be honest, the melody of the song kept ringing through my brain, the image of Noah strumming his guitar flashing past my eyelids.

His arms are so big. He’s actually kind of…buff? He didn’t look like that when he moved in. As much as I loved his long hair, the short hair was so fitting on him, falling loose by his ears.

Before I could stop myself, my hand was snaking down into the waistband of my shorts, fingers ghosting over the top of my clit. An orgasm should help me sleep, right?

As much as I know my rose would make quick work of this, the idea of having another vibrating object in my hand made my wrists ache. I opted to just take my time, fingers circling my sweet spot, and let myself indulge in the idea of my hot neighbor, fingers running over the string of the guitar. Arms flexing when he moved his hand up and down the neck. Throat constricting as the lyrics flowed out of his plump lips.

I could feel myself getting into the idea, my body sinking comfortably into the mattress. Lips parting, I pictured him on the other side of the walls. What did he look like shirtless? Was his chest as muscular as his arms? Did his tattoos spread all the way to his chest?

My fingers applied more pressure, making me squirm, and a soft breath left my lips. I wanted to be quiet, but I was alone. Did it matter?

Noah is likely sleeping, so I doubted that he would be able to hear anything.

I let a moan escape, letting one finger dip between my lips and feel how the moisture had built up at the thought of him. My pussy ached at the idea of his hands, long fingers pressing into me. I would bet he could hit my sweet spot with the first knuckle. I gasped hard, my hips bucking at the thought.

“Oh fuck.” I groaned, my mind drifting even further.

If his fingers were that long, how long was the rest of him? Did his cock size up to his gargantuan stature? What would it feel like? Would it hurt? Would it stretch? Likely, given I hadn’t been intimate with anyone for at least eight months. Would riding him be possible?

“Mmm,” I licked my lips at the image. “God, Noah.”

His name slipped out, and for a split second, I almost blushed, until I remembered it was just me.

That is, until I hard my phone chime on my nightstand.

I groaned, stilling my hand and growling. I was so close, and now it was gone. I snatched my phone, but my body froze when I saw the text on my screen.

Noah: Having fun over there, sweetheart?

My brain melted, completely mortified. Why was he awake?! He went to bed an hour ago!

I couldn’t respond, wishing I could sink into a hole in the mattress and disappear.

His type bubble appeared, and my heart rate sped up.

Noah: You’ve been at it a little while. Sounds like you may need a hand?

What do I even say to that? Am I okay with that? The heat between my legs screamed at me, telling me to take him up on his offer, but my brain put the brakes on.

We are neighbors. Did I want to change that dynamic? Did I want to tempt the fates?

I’m not, and have not been, in a place where I wanted to be in any kind of relationship/situationship/friends with benefits agreement right now. What did inviting him over mean?

Or was it that deep? Did I need to think about it that hard?

Me: Back door’s unlocked.

My finger hovered over the send button for a good 30 seconds before finally getting the nerve to press send. Once I had, I practically threw my phone across the room in hysteria.

What had I done?

After a moment, I heard a sound of a mattress creaking and shifting, and the sound of his sliding door.

Holy fuck.

My room was pitch black, so the light trailing in to the room from the moonlight was disrupted when his tall silhouette appeared. The door slid open smoothly, and he stepped in.

Instinctively, I reached over and tapped on the lamp on my bedside table, propping myself up on my elbows.

There he stood, hair just slightly messy from his pillow, shorts hanging low on his hips, and no tshirt.

Well, that answers my question. His chest and abdomen were covered in colorful, beautiful tattoos. Behind them, his muscles were chiseled and tight.

“You good, angel?”

He stood, and leaned his back against the wall, arms behind his back.

I guess my expression had been confusing, so I shook my head.

“Yeah, just a little embarrassed.”

This made him smile. “You shouldn’t be.”

“No? How much did you hear?”

With this, he pushed off the wall, taking a few steps to the bed, sinking down on the edge next to my leg.

“Oh, not too much.” His hand reached out and his palm ran over my duvet. “Just you moaning my name.”

His eyes flicked up at me from under his lashes.

That was it. I was dead. My face turned a deep crimson and I threw my head back, pulling the pillow over it, praying it would just suffocate me.

This made him chuckle. “What’s wrong?”

“That’s humiliating!”

He snorted. “I find it extremely flattering.”

“Oh, I’m sure you do.” My words were muffled by the pillow.

“You know, you could’ve just asked me to come over.”

I pulled the cover from my face and scoffed. “Oh sure.” I put my hand up to my ear to mimic a telephone. “Hey Noah! I know we’ve never had any kind of sexual contact - ever - but would you by chance come by and help me get off so I can get some sleep, since I can’t seem to quit thinking about you?”

“Sounds good to me, I don’t see the problem.” His smile was so mischievous. I couldn’t help but sheepishly grin.

“Noah-“

He cut me off. “How many times have you touched yourself while thinking of me?”

My mouth hung open. “This is the first time…”

He nodded, his hand sliding along the blanket and closer to my leg underneath.

“What changed?”

I shook my head. “What do you mean?”

“We’ve lived next door for six months. Why are you attracted to me now, all of a sudden?”

“I’ve always found you attractive.”

He smirked, his hand slipping up over my calf, applying a small pressure. My skin tingled.

“Then the feeling is mutual.” He sighed, looking up at me. “But tonight was different?”

“I just…” I shrugged, rolling onto my side, which pushed my body closer to him. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you singing. Playing the guitar.”

His hand moved up, sliding to my hip and resting there. “Ah, okay. So I serenaded you, and you couldn’t resist?”

This made me giggle. “Gosh, you’re such a dork.”

He snickered, scooting himself closer to me. “Mm, maybe. But it doesn’t change the fact that you were thinking about me.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

Suddenly, the air was thick, and he was leaning closer to me. I leaned my head back, giving him full view of my face. When he was close enough that I could feel his breath brushing across my lips, his eyes searched mine.

“This can just be a one-night thing if you want?”

I bit my bottom lip, and nodded gently.

I felt the skin of his lips press into me as my eyes closed, and I molded, form-fitting to him easily. He shifted, his body laying sideways next to me. Noah’s hand reached up and grasped the side of my face, pulling my body in closer to him.

I couldn’t feel or hear anything but the sound of his soft breathing against me, and the pressure of his hips pressing directly against mine.

His hand fell from my face and grabbed my leg by the back of the knee, hiking my leg up to hook on his hip, pulling my body into him even further. The press of his erection behind his shorts provided the sweetest friction against my pussy, still clothed by my shorts.

He groaned into my mouth, and I bucked my hips against him, begging for more contact.

Making out with Noah was more fun than I had imagined. He licked at my tongue, and I tasted the mint toothpaste he had used right before bed. His lips made the most delicious sounds when they sucked and pulled on mine, it had my head twirling in so many different directions.

All of my fantasies were replaying in my brain. His hands, his arms, his chest. My hands began wandering down his body, feeling every last ridge of muscle he had. I felt the ripple of his skin when he flexed, his body so warm and inviting.

He pulled his lips off of mine to look down at me, eyes dark and full of what had to be desire.

“What do you want me to do?”

What kind of question was that? Wasn’t it obvious?

“What?” I felt as though I was missing some hidden meaning.

He shifted, his body now looming over me, and I laid back flat on the bed so I could look directly at him.

“What…” He leaned down to kiss my lips. “do…” Kiss to my jaw. “you…” Kiss to my throat. “want me…” Kiss on my collarbone. “to do?”

I was panting, my need to feel him against my skin causing a hot burn everywhere I couldn’t.

“I, uh” His lips were attached to my neck, nipping and sucking on the skin of the tattoo etched there. “I don’t know. I just need to feel you.”

He pulled back, eyebrow raised, and smirked.

“Well,” He huffed a breath, running a finger down the skin of my chest above the tank top I wore. “I could pull this off of you.” His hand palmed over my breasts, his thumb tracing around my hard nipple. “Suck on these until you’re begging me for more.”

His eyes glanced up at me, and I just stared at him, eyes blown wide, trying to beg with my stare.

“Or…” His hand lifted off of my chest, and swiftly reached down, grabbing hold of the waistband of my shorts. “I could bury myself between those thighs,” My legs shook at the thought. “and lick you until you’re begging me to stop?”

My hand tightened on his sides, my hips pressing up toward him.

He leaned down again, licking a stripe up my throat. “Then, when you’re a hot, shaking, whining mess, I could fuck you until you can’t see straight.”

I moaned, his hand slipping down to tangle in the small patch of hair I had above on my pubic bone. “How’s that sound, baby girl?”

“So fucking good.” I felt his lips smile against my throat.

“You’ve made it easy for me. You’re not even wearing panties.”

I huffed out a small laugh, letting my eyes fall closed. “Yeah, well maybe I was hoping this would happen.”

“Is that right?” His kisses were moving down my body, his hand pulling my breasts free from my shirt. “Knowing you were over here thinking of me had me so fucking hard, sweetheart. You have no fucking idea.”

Noah’s tongue began circling around my left nipple while his hand massaged the other, his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin.

He only focused on my chest for a moment before moving downward, leaving a trail of kisses and bites down my stomach, leaving a particularly hard one on my hipbone.

“So fucking sexy, angel. I won’t lie, I’ve thought about you before.” His fingers pulled my shorts down and off with no hesitation, his body settling between my legs.

“I’ve touched myself, dreaming about this gorgeous fucking pussy.” Noah placed a soft, gentle kiss on my inner thigh. “I can see how wet you are from thinking about me, baby. I hope you’re fucking ready.”

I didn’t have time to question what that meant, as his lips were now attached to my clit, the tip of his tongue circling it expertly while his lips sucked hard. My back arched off of the bed, the sensation nearly knocking me sideways.

“Fuck!” I screamed out, hand burying itself in his dark brunette hair. “Oh my God, Noah.”

“That’s it, gorgeous,” He licked at me, lapping up the fluid pooling between my lips. “fuck my face, pretty girl.”

My hips rutted forward, pressing myself into his lips harder. His arms circled my thighs, locking me into place while his mouth absolutely ravaged me at my core.

My entire body was vibrating, my eyes locked on his beautiful face, eyes closed and so focused.

I could feel myself beginning to crest on the edge of my orgasm, and his name came out as a string of prayers off my lips.

“Ugh, Noah…Noah…Noah…”

Without warning, he lifted me hips off of the bed, bringing himself to kneel on the mattress, so only my upper back and head were left on the pillows. The angle brought an entire new level of sensation. His tongue assaulted my clit, flipping back and forth from kitten licks to long, flat strokes, making me dizzier with each repetition.

“Noah, I’m going to come.” I breathed out, and his eyes opened, looking directly at me. His head began to move back and forth ever so slightly, him now locked onto my sweet spot. The ministrations sent me so far over the edge, I felt as though my entire body was floating.

“Oh fuck! Noah! Jesus fuck!”

He didn’t stop, however. Although he was licking me carefully through my climax, he didn’t show signs of slowing down…

“It’s sensitive. Please, I can’t take anymore.”

He disconnected from me for a second to smile deviously. “Sure you can.” And he continued.

“No, please, it’s too much.” I could feel tears welling in my eyes.

He pulled off of me, laying me back down, with a glint in his eye and a smirk on his lips. “The safe word is lions. Use it if you need it.” And he was back to it, making my vision go white.

“Noah, oh God, I can’t handle it, please!”

“You can, and you will.” His voice was factual, leaving no room for argument.

Just as I was about to protest again, I felt his tongue stop, and a sinfully long finger pressed into me, bringing about an entirely new sensation.

“Jesus Christ.” I was struggling to breathe.

“That’s it, baby. You’re so good, taking it all the way in. You’re so fucking perfect.”

My walls tightened around him at his words.

“It’s so fucking tight, baby. I’m almost worried it’s going to hurt when I fuck my name out of your mouth…” He looked up again, pressing a second finger in, a burning sensation pulsing through me. “…almost.”

My chest heaved, my breathing erratic and unstable. It was too good. It hurt so perfectly. His hand began pumping in and out of my body, causing loud, wet sounds.

“Going to make a mess, baby? I’d hope you’d wait until you were in my bed for that.” I couldn’t feel anything but his fingers inside me, driving me to insanity. “Thats alright, I’ll clean up. Go ahead and let go, honey. Come for me.”

An ear splitting screech ripped out of me, my body being rocked by another hard orgasm. His hand slowed, his fingers slipping out eventually.

“So fucking pretty. You got me all wet, I can’t tell you how fucking hot that was.”

I laid, eyes closed, working to bring myself back down to Earth. I wasn’t given much of a chance before I felt his tongue lapping at me again, making me squeal and jerk away from him.

“Nope.” His hands pulled me back to him. “I’m not done with you yet.”

The tears in my eyes were running. “Noah, please. Please!”

“I haven’t heard the safe word.” His face was buried in my folds, tongue pressing inside me. “You can do it baby, just one more, okay? I need one more.”

My head fell back on the pillows, savoring the soft, slow swipes of his tongue against me. It was almost…relaxing? He wa easing me through it, building me back up.

“Okay baby, you ready for another?”

I didn’t dare look at him, only nodded my head.

His fingers slipped back in, curling at the spot that makes my toes curl, and latched onto me again, his lips sucking hard on my clit.

This orgasm came quicker, washing over me like ocean waves hitting high tide. This time, I only managed to sigh hard when it hit me, feeling so wonderfully exhausted.

“That’s my girl. Perfect.”

I felt him lift up, but I still couldn’t make eye contact. My eyes were so heavy, and I couldn’t even fathom movement.

The bed dipped down next to me, and I cracked my lids to see him smiling. He reached down and kissed my cheek lovingly.

“Still there, Angel?”

I smiled a sleepy grin, and nodded. “That was…” There were no words. They didn’t exist.

“I’m glad you enjoyed.” I felt the blanket being pulled over me, and I opened my eyes in confusion.

“What are you doing?”

He chuckled lightly. “You need to get some sleep, beautiful. I know I talked a big game, but you’re exhausted. That was the goal.” He smoothed a hand over my stomach. “Help you get some rest.”

I rolled on my side, pouting slightly. “What about you?”

He shook his head. “I’ll be just fine.”

His hand reached over and switched the light off on the nightstand. He moved to stand up, by my arm came out to grab his. He turned his head and looked at me.

“Could you…” I cleared my throat. “I’d like it if you stayed.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Yeah? Even though it’s just one night?”

I smirked, lifting the blanket for him to crawl under. With his own grin, he did so, lifting his arm so I could tuck in, head laid on his chest and arm falling over his stomach.

“Maybe it's more than just one night.”

[autisticlancemcclain]

My Dearest La

Dear La

Lance,

I really hate it when you’re right.

I know you are smiling as you read this. I can see it so clearly in my head. You are rolling your eyes now, probably, in fact you are probably even straining yourself. But I bet you are still smiling.

…

I miss you.

You told me leaving was stupid. Well, we screamed about it. I don’t like that I left angry. I should have waited so we could have been — well, I don’t know. I just don’t like that I left without saying goodbye properly. I don’t like that I didn’t get to kiss the smush between your eyebrows that you get when you’re mad

The bottom line is that I’m sorry. And I can’t do anything about it now because what’s done is done but. I wish I did. I’m sorry this message is so dorky. I can’t help how I feel about you. I promise I’ll be more — suave, or whatever, in my next one. There’s this Blade I hang out with sometimes, Sedrit, she is awkwardly funny like you. She has promised to give me some pointers because she’s as nosy as you are and read over my shoulder all the other times I tried to write this letter. I don’t trust her judgement but I’d walk into a wall on purpose in front of Pidge’s cameras if I could guarantee it’d make you laugh I think we could always use a smile. I’m ending this letter now because I’m embarrassed and if I write one more line I’ll lose my nerve.

Love,

Warm regards,

Sincerely,

Love,

Keith

———

“Sir? Sir! Hold on! Sir!”

The Balmeran turns, looking back at him curiously. He leans heavily on his cane, back hunched but chin set squarely.

“Yes, Blade?”

Keith jogs all the way over to him, stopping a respectful distance away. He reaches up to deactivate his mask, which he is not supposed to do, but the mask is fucking creepy, okay, it makes people uneasy so clearly that even Keith can see it, so fuck Kolivan’s lectures. He’s vindicated by the visible relaxing of the Balmeran’s shoulders.

“I need — a favour,” Keith says haltingly. His own shoulders begin to hunch. “If you don’t mind.”

The Balmeran’s stiff brows lift in surprise. He looks deliberately down at his newly-bandaged leg, then back up at Keith. Keith flushes.

“A… favour.”

All the pockets on Keith’s uniform are square-shaped and small. Deep, but not very long. Anything he puts in there gets squished. Except for the long, thin pocket-thing hidden against the outside of his thigh.

The letter has been stuffed carefully in there for two weeks. It’s a miracle it hasn’t been destroyed. The top left corner of it has gotten frayed, because Keith keeps catching himself rubbing it with the pad of his thumb.

“I know you’ve been through so much,” Keith says quietly. “I’m sorry even to ask.”

The Balmeran’s stance is still carefully guarded, practiced —

“As have you.”

— but his eyes are soft and knowing.

Keith lets out a long, heavy breath. He slides the letter gently out of its spot, turning it over in his hands; inspecting the familiar creases, ink stains. It’s a rough, recycled envelope. Made out of old briefing notes, by the looks of it, thick black lines of censorship streaking across the pale yellow surface. An ugly thing, really.

“I need to get this to the Red Paladin of Voltron,” he says, forcing himself to hand the thing over. “I don’t — I can’t send it through the Empire delivery service, for obvious reasons. And Voltron’s location is always encrypted. I —” He stops, mouth clamping shut, because suddenly the words have become impossible to force out through the lump in his throat. He hasn’t talked to the team in weeks. He has no way of contacting them without putting them — or himself — in danger. There will be absolutely no way for Lance to send him a letter back, even if he wants to. The whole thing seems, abruptly, a painful kind of hopeless.

And yet.

“I will pass it along,” promises the Balmeran, voice flooded with kind understanding. He wraps his hands around Keith’s, squeezing once, before gently prying the letter out of his clenched fingers. “I don’t know how long it will take, but I have a someone who works in Emerg-med. She travels frequently, and should be able to take it farther than I can.”

“Thank you,” Keith chokes out, blinking rapidly.

The Balmeran smiles. “Keep strong, child.”

———

“Granddaughter,” greets the old man warmly. The young woman turns at his voice, laughing in delight when she sees him and enveloping him carefully in an embrace.

“Grandfather! You’re well!”

“I’m alive,” he corrects, teasingly.

She takes the jest in stride. “You are alive, and so you are well. I am so happy to see you.” There is genuine love in her voice. She holds tightly to his arm. “Are you staying in care long?”

He shakes his head. “No, dear. I dropped by only to see you. And,” he digs around in his pocket, carefully extracting a letter, placing it in her waiting hands, “to ask a favour.”

“A letter?”

“For the Red Paladin, from the Black.”

“I see.” She frowns thoughtfully, turning the paper over in her hands. “Last I heard, they were rebuilding on Ilso. I am going only as far as Igrendia, to visit my cousin.”

“Pass it along then,” he suggests.

She promises she will.

———

A young girl, to her cousin: “Imeld! Can you pass something along for me?”

A cousin, to her lover: “If you could drop it off at the supply camp when you stop by.”

A lover, to his father: “A friend of mine works in that fuel stop. Let him know I sent you?”

A father, to a friend of a friend: “Only a couple stops left, I reckon.”

A friend of a friend, to a friend of a friend, to a friend of a friend: “It’s almost there.

———

A friend of a friend of a friend, to a Paladin:

“I think this is yours. It’s travelled a while.”

———

A smile aches at the apples of Lance’s cheeks. Salt drips onto his tongue, and he swallows, breath shuddering.

“You — dorky asshole,” he whispers, and tucks the envelope in the secret pocket on the thigh of his undersuit.

———

Lance,

I have no idea if my last letter got to you. I hope it did, if not, here’s the rundown: you were right, I regret leaving, and I miss you.

Anyways.

Today I was on a mission in a planet that was just a huge wildflower field. Just — hundreds of hundreds of flowers, every colour you can imagine and then some. It smelled like you. I cried.

Do you remember when we snuck out of that negotiation — thing? Whatever it was? And you poked me hard in the arm and loudly complained about how much of a bummer I was being. And you dared me to roll down the hill with you. And when I was laughing at the bottom of the hill because you had just so much grass in your hair you crawled over me and kissed me like you’d been waiting to do it.

I remember how we kissed until my lips bruised after. And then we just lay there, until I got fidgety, and then you pulled us both up and walked around picking flowers and sticking them in my hair and snickering. This was the flower. Doesn’t it look like the one you brought back?

I thought of you a lot today. It hurt a little bit. A lot bit. I missed you until it ached.

I hope I see you in the flowers again soon.

I love you more than the stars

Love, and lots of it,

Keith

———

“Hey, Sedrit.”

His voice is as hushed as he can make it. He doesn’t want to wake the others. But she won’t be asleep — she never sleeps before big missions. She says it’s because the adrenaline keeps her alert, puffing up her chest. But Keith knows that she prays because she is afraid that she will die.

She doesn’t answer, so he kicks the bottom of the mattress above him. He hears a huff, and then seconds later, a curtain of hair flops over the side of the top bunk, and her wide, pupil-less eyes blink into focus.

“What do you want, shithead.”

He smiles at her guiltily. “A favour?”

“Ugh.”

But she looks at him in begrudging acceptance.

“I need you to — drop something off, when you go to El-dan. Ask another Blade there if they could pass on a letter.”

She must read his tone, because the annoyance vanishes from her expression. She reaches over and flicks him in the nose.

“Yeah, lovebird. I can pass on your letter.”

———

“Hey, man, could you send this along the next off-world?”

“What for?”

“For true love. Or because I asked you to.”

———

“I don’t know what it is. It’s classified. But it needs to get to the Red Paladin.”

———

“I heard it’s news of an ambush!”

“Well, it can’t be news now. It’s weeks old at least.”

“Yes, well, drop it off anyways. It’s Voltron business, you know.”

———

Lance’s door slide opens.

“I have — correspondence,” says Allura, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “I was informed of a possible ambush? Perhaps we should read the letter together.”

Prepared remark about greetings and knocking and why they were invented flee Lance’s tongue, and his controller clatters to the ground in his haste to meet her.

“Lemme see,” he demands, snatching the letter straight from her hands. Her protests fall on deaf ears.

You were right, I regret leaving, I miss you.

He grins.

“What is that?”

“No ambush,” he says breathlessly, floating back over to his bed. He traces the shape of every letter, the blots of smudged ink. The scratch of the words is just as important as the content of the letter, Lance has found. He’s long since memorized the first letter, but he still finds himself drawing it out of his pocket, unfolding it with a shaky sort of reverence, studying every slanted T and looped L, closing his eyes and letting the impression of the ink burn into his eyelids. The cadence of the words have become song, hummed over and over and over again in his head.

This time, there’s a drawing. It does indeed look similar to the one hanging, dried, at the head of his bed. He presses the tip of his thumb into the center of it, breathing hard, rapidly blinking away the tears so they don’t drop and ruin the paper.

“I remember,” he manages, half-choked. “I remember, I remember.”

When he looks up again, hours have passed, and Allura has long since left, closing the door quietly behind her.

———

Lance, my love,

I know we do not talk about the observation deck.

It is your sacred place, I think. When you sit in the middle of the floor and look up at the glowing stars and the planets cast shadows on your face and make your eyes shine gold as sunlight the only way to describe you is holy. The first time I ever saw you like that it made my stomach hurt. When I think about it now I miss you so much the ache spreads all the way to my teeth.

When I was a kid I read about how grief makes you hurt but time makes you forget. I read about how men begin to forget the shape of their late wives’ smile. Or the slope of her nose. I read about how children begin to forget the slant of their fathers’ shoulder. How mothers forget the way their babies curled their fist.

Missing you hurts like unravelling. You’re all I think about. I will never forget the fit of your hand in mine as long as I remember how to speak. And I will know the ridges of your teeth so long as I can taste. I will know the length of your back as long as I can walk. I will remember the curve of your lips as long as I can blink. I will know the way you glowed in floating blue starlight until my brain shuts down and my organs fail me.

Patroclus said I will know him in death and at the end of the world.

I will know you every waking second of my life, and I will make myself remember for every nanosecond in between.

Nothing will compare to holding you in my arms again.

Keith

———

Sedrit has officially been declared missing in action. A new soldier has taken her bunk.

Keith’s stomach hurts all the time, now.

“Just — one time,” Keith begs.

“You have way more training than that job requires,” says Kolivan.

“I know. I just —” He realises, suddenly, that even if he had an argument he does not have the strength to make it. The letter creases in his clenched hands. “Please.”

For a long moment the Blade leader does not speak. Keith meets his searching gaze, but his eyes are blank, unfocused. Exhaustion pulls at his features. His hood droops on his shoulders.

“In an out, Keith,” Kolivan relents finally. “A supply mission should take less than four vargas. I want you back here then and not a tick later, so you understand?”

Keith could cry in relief, but Kolivan looks stiff enough already. Should Keith express an emotion in front of him he might be forced into a total system reset, and his programming might not be prepared for that.

“Thank you,” he says instead, and rushes off before he can change his mind.

Matt is leading the supply run. This letter might land right in Lance’s hands.

———

“I’ll get it to him, Keith.”

“Thank you, Matt. I owe you.”

“Take care of yourself, man. They all miss you.”

“…I miss them too.”

———

Matt hands him the letter without a word. No one else says anything, either, when he clenched it tightly between his thumb and forefinger and walks right out of the bridge. Not even Shiro, whose gaze Lance can feel bore a hole into the back of his head.

You’re all I think about, writes Keith’s neat cursive, and Lance presses the paper to his chest and cries.

———

My Lance,

I hate it here.

I miss you.

———

Alarm bells shriek through the headquarters. Keith has become numb to them, at this point.

He slides the letter in between the pages of an intelli-file and hopes.

———

CLASSIFIED

FOR VOLTRON’S EYES ONLY

BIOMETRICS REQUIRED

WILL SELF DESTRUCT

———

There is a letter waiting on his bed when Lance gets back from his mission on Efid-d. He has not slept in three days. His vision is blurry.

He falls asleep with the paper open in his hands, mirroring the curve of Keith’s body.

———

My love,

Naxzela. Soon. I think Kolivan knows there’s something wrong. I’m gonna I might I think I can stay, for a bit. Hopefully.

Well, I will see you again. Damn it all. I don’t care about the world I don’t care about the Empire I don’t care about anything, anymore, I just want to come home —

Naxzela.

It will be weeks until I see you face to face on this mission but already everything seems less bleak. I will admit some of the anger has crept in. I feel awful. I’m trying to remember what you said, in the very beginning, before you kissed me in the flowers. When you held my hands in the purple light and said we make a good team.

I know you say you don’t remember it, you goober. You do. You get embarrassed when I bring it up, that’s how I know. You always get embarrassed when you’re caught being vulnerable.

I loved you then, you know. I didn’t know it then but I did. I thought about your hand in mine for weeks. You have always been so central to me.

Soon, sweetheart. Soon I can hold you again.

Naxzela.

———

He doesn’t bother sending this one along. He tucks it in the secret pocket on the side of his pants, and with every passing day it grows heavier and the weight on his chest grows lighter.

———

When the shield closes over the planet and Keith says, it’s been an honour serving with you all, the scream starts at the bottom of Lance’s feet. It comes up to his knees when he sees the pod speeding towards it, up to his chest when Shiro barks at him to stay in formation. It catches in his throat as he wrenches Red away.

It echoes through space when the pod hits the shield in a shower of blue sparks and grey smoke, and Prince Lotor defects to their side one nanosecond too late.

———

The beep of the healing pod synchs with Lance’s heartbeat. It can’t quite drown out the screech echoing in Lance’s head; that keeps going, and going, and going.

Soon, sweetheart.

He sobs into the half-burned paper.

———

“You better keep your promise, you dorky asshole.”

———

Healing pods have always smelt, inexplicably, of burnt hair.

He hears the slide of the glass door opening, then the whoosh of air as he pitches forward before his arms are awake enough to stop him. Luckily, he falls right into bony arms, and the smell of flowers and sunshine quickly envelops him.

“You motherfucker,” says a voice, heavy with tears, and Keith smiles.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he croaks.

His Lance sobs. The hands on the sides of his arms slide slowly down to his wrists, gripping tightly. Keith forces his eyes open, blinking away the bleariness. Lance has his own eyes squeezed shut, like he’s too afraid to look, head bowed.

Well, that simply won’t do.

“Lance, baby, look at me.”

“You motherfucker,” Lance repeats, and finally he does look up but he’s glaring angrier than Keith has ever seen him. Keith grins wider. “You motherfucker, you damn near lied to me.”

Slowly, half convinced he’ll move to fast and wake up on his bunk, alone, he reaches up and cups Lance’s cheeks. He swipes his thumbs carefully over wet cheekbones, exhaling shakily, revelling in the feel of Lance’s skin under his, finally, finally, finally.

“I’m home, Lance,” he whispers. Tears spring from his own eyes. “Sweetheart, I’m home.”

“Stay,” Lance begs, like he should have months and months ago, like he meant to, like he wanted to.

“There’s no other option,” Keith promises, and as he leans in and presses their lips together, finally, tasting the salt and licking the ridge of his teeth and swallowing every shuddering breath, he vows to never send a letter again.

He’ll tell Lance all he needs to hear himself.

———

all art by @mothmanavenue

concept from this post

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

I came back from the movie theaters (Fnaf Movie) My lord I FREAKING LOVED IT THE WHOLE THING IDC AHHH Ahem-

I saw that requests are open, SO a Platonic Headcanon Request if you don't mind, Fnaf (Movie) Animatronics with Gender-Neutral (17-soon to be 18) Reader as the new security guard? or maybe tags with Mike and possibly Abby? (Reader ain't tall just-idk 5'2 maybe I am projecting-)

(I know this request doesn't make sense because of the tiredness due to staying up late because of excitement. Feel free to delete this ask if its too complicated)

bonus: If you want to, You can also Include Chica's Cupcake

Have a nice day/night, From 📞 ☕ (PhoneCoffee) Anon

Oh I can definitely work with this ^^

......

When you started working at Freddy's overnight, you hoped this would be your last summer job ever before you turned 18.

"Steve" said it was all pretty straightforward: watch the cameras and make sure nobody broke in.

Easy as pizza pie, right?

Well, when you realized one of the animatronics very subtly moved from their usual spot, you wanted to check them out for yourself.

Plus, sitting in the office for six hours every night would def get boring as hell.

So you head to the main stage area, finding the whole gang mysteriously gone--Foxy included.

Then you get surprised by them emerging from different places in the pizzeria, eyes glowing a sinister yellow as they surround you, wary of your intentions.

"O-Oh hey..um..Fazgang?" You try your best not to look so terrified.

Surely someone was controlling them, right? They couldn't possibly hurt you.

Yet they stop and collectively realize "wait, isn't this a teenager? And why are they working this job??"

But since you're not wrecking anything in the pizzeria (or screaming bloody murder unlike the last guard), they spare you and are just very chill overall.

You now start to believe all the rumors of them being haunted by little children.....although not even that scares you.

On the second night, you learn that they can understand simple drawings--and that's how you pretty much communicate with them and build up trust.

While Bonnie is regarded as the "most aggressive", he was a real sweetheart who let you shine his guitar and hugged you tightly to express his thanks.

Alas you haven't found a way to stop it from constantly short-circuiting when he strums it...but you vow to figure something out.

Chica was equally as sweet, although for some reason Carl the Cupcake made you feel nervous.

The way he can be on the plate one moment and then disappear the next makes you worried that he'll sneak up on you and bite your ankles off.

But as long as Chica's around, that won't ever happen.

Although Foxy looks quite dangerous, you try your best to patch up the hole in his chest using some spare parts from backstage while being oblivious to the deadly Freddy mask saw trap in the corner, something he's grateful for.

He even sang you a little sea shanty as thanks!

Freddy was the first to be suspicious of you, but after seeing a drawing you made of him, he grows to like your presence, too. Especially after how nice you've been to his bandmates.

So you definitely survived more than five nights at this place--longer than anyone so far.

When Mike gets hired and comes in for his first shift with you, he's surprised that a teen is training him.

He suspects this was some lousy summer job you were forced to get and thinks you're gonna act miserable the entire time you work together and not actually teach him shit.

But as it turns out, you love your job!

You show him the Fazgang during their "showtime" performance and assure him that while they may look creepy, they're not bad at all.

And while you're not getting paid extra to do simple maintenance on them, you still enjoy trying to keep them in tip-top shape (especially Foxy, who needs repairs the most).

Mike seriously thinks you shouldn't be doing that as it's not in the job description AND it could be dangerous.

Even if you have expertise in robotics, he still thinks it's not worth losing a limb or finger to those complex contraptions.

Like he almost did after getting near a springlock suit.

But you just teasingly remind him who the trainer is..and he goes quiet.

Foxy overhears this, and you see him snickering from behind the Pirate's Cove curtain, amused by you basically schooling this 25-27 year old man.

Unfortunately he startled poor Mike, who looks over quickly.....only to find the fox standing in his usual position, acting completely normal.

"Was he just laughing at us...?"

"Nope." You play dumb, shrugging. "Must be his voice box malfunctioning....c'mon. Let's see if we can fix that."

Least to say, you're not gonna let him sleep on the job anytime soon.

[crxshed-skxlls]

— ❝ Dual Purpose

Masky x fem!reader x Hoodie

Word count: 3k+

Plot: During a surprise home invasion from two strangers (Masky/Hoodie), they can't stop arguing on who is better than the other. Soon, Hoodie hatches the bright idea as you to be the judge...

NSFW tags: Threesome, Exhibitionism, degradation, biting/choking, oral sex (M & F receiving), bondage, rough sex, knife play, dacryphilia, dubcon, tongue piercing, overstimulation

TW warning// physical violence is used once (never again after)

Note: Sequel coming very soon... 👀

You weren't expecting any of this. Well, you didn't expect the bickering persay. Your wrists were tied to uncomfortable zip-ties as you watch as these two strangers bicker like high school children. Though they were definitely contrasting in personality. The masked figure seemed more cautious, calculated, and irritable. The hooded man was the opposite, a slacker and pretty compulsive from the looks of it.

" You know I'm better with handling the possessions, you just deal with her. "

" Tch. Good my ass. Your shit at this. Last break in you tripped and fell on your ass. "

" Quit bickering and do your job, smartass. Just deal with her. "

The mask man growls, gesturing to you. You shiver with fear, not daring to utter a complaint. The other, a hooded man, had threatened to gut you if you made a sound. The creepy smiley face then looked down at you as the Masked man starts walking. It seemed the Masked stranger was more cautious with his work, while the hood slacked off. You noted this from their body language and the way they interacted this past 5 minutes. It wasn't long until the hooded figure looks as the other carefully examines your living room drawers, rustling like he was looking for treasure. Hoodie then looks back at you.

" Do you wanna bet, Timo--? "

" Don't utter that fucking name. You know better than to reveal that, Hoodie. "

The masked stranger whips around and barks with a husky tone. If you weren't so scared for your life, you would think that the man was a tiny bit attractive. Though, you at least earned a name. The name seemed simple enough, "Hoodie" for a hooded stranger. You keep attentive though, watching as the hooded figure cracks a sigh. You clear your throat though, wondering sarcastically if the others name was "Masky or something".

" Why does it matter? It's not like shes going to live another day, Masky. "

Wow. Color you shocked; you got the name right -- but that didn't stop you from shakily whimpering at the words. Not going to live another day rang in your ears as they continued. Masky narrows his eyes, letting out an exhausted sigh.

" What are you playing at? "

" How about we end this debate with a judge? "

At this point, you and Masky seem to tense in a confused glance at Hoodie. You attentively perks up at the word... What was Hoodie playing at? The yellow hooded man seems to chuckle under his mask, tentively fiddling with the knife as he steps forward once. Masky seems to examine the other.

" Now that I got your attention.. I have an idea. "

" Hoodie, I don't have time for your shit ideas. Spit it out. "

" Okay, okay -- jesus. I noticed you have been very tense recently, such as I... Sooo-- "

He interrupts his speech as he steps towards you. Your heart skips a beat as you try to scoot away, but hoodie crouches and catches your face with a gloved hand. Masky's eyes turn towards you and Hoodie with a look hidden under his mask. Hoodie makes you turn your head fully to Masky in a teasing manner.

" What if we let off some steam? "

" Wh-- why-- "

Masky's eyes widen as he catches on the idea. You are left in the dark as the two exchange looks. Masky shuts the drawer, not breaking his gaze. Hoodie snickers, soon turning your head to him. Your face was inches from his as he keeps his hand dug into your cheeks. You grunt at the pain, attempting to move but failing.

" You can't be serious. "

" C'mon.. She's quite a doll, dont you think? I think she would be the perfect Judge. "

You soon catch on to the idea with wide eyes. To start to squirm slightly, kicking Hoodie's leg. Hoodie hisses as he releases your face. He cursed out as he soon kicks back with much more force. The kick lands on your stomach, a pained cry comes from you. The stinging pain causes you to fall over. Masky looks at you, and you lock eye contact. You already had tears well up into your eyes, almost like a hurt puppy. You watch as Masky's throat bobbed as he gulps, breaking eye contact to look at Hoodie. The hooded man glares through his mask at you, making you flinch in fear.

" You don't get to answer yet, bitch. "

" Hoodie, this isn't a good idea. "

" What? Is the ugly duckling chicken? "

Hoodie taunts, making Masky groan at the comment. Masky looks at him, then at you again. The masked man sighs, ruffling his hair in what seemed to be frustration. You shake your head, tears spilling from your eyes as you curl up against the wall. You hopped that they weren't being serious, but at the same time you remained unsure from the two. You feel your stomach bubble weirdly, and not from the painful kick from earlier. Hoodie groans at your cries in a both annoyance and arousal. You peak up to see Hoodie's mask pulled up enough to show half of his face. You examine his tough jawline and his faint mustache. What made you flutter in a weird, sick way was the shit-eating grin on his face.

" So? What's it going to be? "

" ... What do I get in return? If I win. "

Masky cautiously mused, throwing up sarcastic quote hands at the "win" part. Hoodie's grin becomes a wicked smile.

" Now we're talking.. You get bragging rights and a chance to unwind. I mean -- who would let a good doll go to waste like this? She's so pathetic. "

You whine at the comment, causing the two to glance at you. Your trembling, looking up with pleading eyes as you watch the two.

" Please -- "

" What did I say, whore? "

Hoodie growls as he flicks his knife into your sight, his hand going for your face before --

" I'll do it!! "

You yell out as you quickly shut your eyes. You expect a stinging feeling, or a plunge of a foreign object.. However your met with a frozen silence. You peeked an eye open, noticing the two stranger's expressions. Hoodie stopped in place, the knife mere inches from your face as his mouth is slightly agape with surprise. Masky's eyes are wide with the same surprise.

" ... What - What did you say? "

" I - I'll be the judge. Just- Just please don't kill me. "

You stutter and plee with the hooded figure. Shock soon turned into cocky, unadulterated amusement on the man's face. Hoodie slowly turns to Masky with an astonished laugh. His knife lowers from your face as you open your other eye, watching.

" Even better. We got an attractive freakshow to toy with. C'mon Tim, let loose. "

" What did I tell you, Brian.. "

" Hey! Relax. What's she gonna do, kill us? "

Tim and Brian.. Those names echo before Masky-- or Tim steps and joins the other man as he stands. They both look over you, their oogling making you feel small. Hoodie's smirk fades to a smile, flicking his pocket knife shut. Your almost relieved -- until he started speaking.

" Get up. I'll give the honors of Tim going first. "

You quickly attempt to get up, only for you to stumble as your shaky legs betray you. Hoodie giggles like a little boy as he watches you struggle, but Masky's pants tell more than his mask with this situation. You noticed the thick part stick out of his tight pants, revealing just how aroused he was. Hoodie soon turns around, seeming to go shove everything off your living room table. You flinch at the sound, only for Hoodie to motion you over. You pass Masky was you wobble over, his eyes boring into you attentively as he turns. You stop for a minute, making Hoodie's mouth form into a disgruntled line. You open your lips, and with a careful voice --

" I have one- one request. "

You emphasize the one as you speak, hoping that the two wouldn't attempt to silence you. Hoodie takes a moment to think, before sighing with a groan.

" Hhh- what is it? "

" I- I want to see your faces. "

" ... What-- "

The two men incline harmoniously, but you quickly intercept anything after that. You utter a wait as you step closer, your lips quivering slightly in nervousness.

" You want me to judge, right? We- Well I want to be able- able to judge you both thoroughly... "

You explain with a harsh breath. Your brain screamed against your actions-- logic telling you that you were insane for the request. Though, your body and fluttering adrenaline said otherwise. The two men exchange looks, only before looking at you again. You stand there as you hear Masky's footsteps, shivering as he stands behind you. Hoodie grins slightly. Your face flushes a pale pink, your tied hands balling into fists as they continued to stare.

" You really are a freak, huh? "

" mm-- mhm.. "

" ... Fine. "

" Do I get a say in this?? "

Masky scoffs, obviously defensive of his mask. Though, Hoodie takes off his mask. Your eyes widen as you lock eyes with Hoodie. He cocks an eyebrow, smirking at the small reaction.

" Tim, C'mon. It's not that bad. "

" No. "

He sternly replies, shoving you towards the brunette. You struggle to catch yourself, stumbling as you attempt to stand straight. Hoodie sighs with a tsk, taking you by the shoulders and moving you to sit down on your wood table. You look up at him, his smug look making you red in the face. He laughs at you, not even Noticing Masky next to you both.

" God, your a whore. Getting all hot and bothered by two strangers? Though, I'm flattered. "

He degrades you as he takes steps back. He looks at Masky, a grin on his stubble face. Masky looks on as Hoodie maneuvers on the other side of the small table, sitting on your sofa.

" Go on, you can start the show. Show us what you got, big boy. "

" Don't ever call me that again. "

Masky cringes by the taunt, only to get in front of you. His tall stature makes you more wobbly, watching as he takes off his gloves. He throws them on the floor, soon snaking a hand under your shirt as he stares into your eyes. You tense at his rough, calloused hands as you watch. Hoodie carefully watches. Masky seems to hesitate about something, only before going to your ear.

" Close your eyes. "

Masky whispers in a hushed voice. Your eyes narrow a little bit in curiosity before you feel Masky's hand rubbed your love handles. You finally take a breath as you look at the stranger.

" What? "

" Close your eyes. If you want more, close your eyes. "

You couldn't tell if this was a hint for consent, or he was genuine about it. Either way, you cautiously close your eyes. He seems to reward you with your compliance, hearing the sound of plastic drop to the table and Masky giggles. You gasp as you feel a nibble on your earlobe, sending tingles of weird pleasure down your body.

" Good, Good... Keep them closed until my say, understand? "

" What are you whispering about? Get on with it. "

Hoodie whines, but Masky ignores him. You nod in understanding before you feel Masky take off your shirt. You keep your eyes closed as you shiver at the feeling of lips on your neck. You can hear the faint sound of a click noise, and it seems to irritate Masky as he mutters out something between kisses. You dont dare open your eyes, but you are wondering what Hoodie is planning.. Or at least doing. Your thoughts are interrupted though as Masky takes off your shirt, the cold air of the room hitting your hot skin. Masky pushes you on the table, causing you to let out small gasp. You were now in your black, laced bra you always wore around the house. You hear Hoodie let out a hushed moan, making you want desperately want to see what he is up to. Masky continues his work, and you open your legs for him as his tongue dragged along your neck and his hands guide to your bra. You hear Hoodie stifle a rough groan, before letting out a whitty snicker.

" What a great show, Tim. Smile for the camera~ "

" Fuck off. "

" Wooah, didn't mean t-hah- to piss you off."

His teased tone comes out with a coo, and Masky growls onto your skin. You get a sick feeling knowing that you're being recorded, but you cant help to think about how Hoodie looked sitting there. You moan as you think about the bead of sweat on Hoodie's face dribble down as he palms his pants, holding his camera steadily to the scene as he watches. Your snapped out of it as let out another gasp as Masky lifts your bra up, exposing your tendered breasts. Your nipples were already hardened, and Masky let's out a soft grunt. You hear the sound of Hoodie getting up, the sofa creaking as he does. You tense up, moaning as Masky licks one of your nipples. You feel Hoodie bend down in front of you, and you bite your lip as Masky bites your nipple softly. You can feel Hoodie's hot breath as he chuckled, which made your core throb with neglect.

" Your enjoying this huh? It takes a special type of sicko to like this type of thing."

" You – haah- you like it too though. "

You sputtered out defiantly, making Masky let out a snicker of his own. Hoodie seems to pause, his hand tightly gripping your hair with a huff. He keeps your head up as you spill moans, only before yelping out as Masky bites your breast, feeling the sting as Masky sucks a mark onto you. Hoodie grunts watching you spill your moans out for them. It came as a surprise though as Hoodie pulls you into a kiss. You gasp, giving him time to shove his tongue into the kiss. Your pleasantly surprised as you feel the silver trinket in Hoodie's mouth, processing a tongue piercing. You moan into his moan as he groans in yours, Masky's eyes boring into you both as he pops off your chest with a slick pop. You feel hot as your body flares with pleasure, bucking your hips with want as you moan into Hoodie's mouth. Hoodie smirks in the kiss before pulling away. You feel a string of saliva break as he wipes his mouth. Masky starts to softly kiss down your abdomen. You hear Hoodie mutter suckup– only before turning his attention back to you.

" Do you want more? "

" Mmn – yes ! Yes I do– "

" Really now? What's the magic word. "

You groan at the extent of Hoodie's teasing. He snickers at you, only before bringing a hand to one of your breasts. You let out a whimper, feeling him squeeze the tender piece of flesh. You let out a harsh moan as you feel Hoodie press on Masky's marks on your chest. You gasp as you feel your pants and undergarments tugged down, revealing your wet cunt below. Hoodie chuckles at the sight, clicking his tongue. You feel as Masky teases your body, making you let out a whimper as you buck in the air.

" Pl- please– "

" Oh? Please what? Speak up slut. "

" Mmn- more ! Ah, fuck– "

" Hmmn, good girl. "

Hoodie laughs at your pleas between moans  as you hear the faint ziip of a zipper. Masky watches, observing your pretty cunt as it clenches to nothing. You can hear Masky panting, letting out small grunts as he ghosts his hands on your thighs before giving them a squeeze. You let out a groan, wiggling as you plead with the man in front of you. You feel your mouth salivate, drool dribbling down your chin.

" Heh – you hear that Tim? She so desperately wants it shes - hng- drooling. Won't you help the poor girl out? "

Hoodie pleas with a snicker, and Hoodie surprisingly obliges. You suck in a deep breath, gasping as you feel Masky's fingers slide between your folds. You moan out as he touches your swollen clit, finally opening your eyes. Hoodie gawks at how you look, sweat clinging to your red face as you tremble on the wooden surface. Though you can't help but eye his camera, aimed down at your cunt as Masky plays with your folds. The next thing you noticed made your heart stutter. Hoodie's manhood was present in front of you, thick and throbbing with neglect. His rendered veins pop out slightly, and he was definitely more average. Hoodie's face reddened as you drool over his dick. Masky doesn't comment as you peacefully open your eyes, but you gasp as he starts to lick at your folds, making you gasp.

" T– Tim!! FucK– "

You choke out loud, causing Masky's grip to tighten on you. Hoodie scoffs, continuing to eye you both as he aims the camera to your face. Hoodies statement earlier was definitely a lie. Ugly Duckling your ass, the way Masky's harsh eyes preyed upon your reactions made you already want to come. Hoodie watches with a groan as you then return your attention to him, your eyes dilated with want and need.

" Fuck.. You really are a cockslut, huh? C'mon, I got you help.. "

Hoodie breaths, aiming his dick to your lips. You moan out as Masky laps up at your wet folds, teasing your clit with wet circles. You look up at Hoodie with a heaving chest, watching as his smug face soon turns into a lustful need.

" .. Now help me, doll. "

Hoodie whimpers – whimpers out as you finally open your mouth with a hunger. Your tongue swirls around the tip of his penis, making him let out a sigh of relief as he pushes into your mouth. Your moans vibrate on Hoodie's cock as Masky inserts his tongue into your cunt, his nose pressed onto your labia as he slurps up your fluids. You feel your body grow hotter as you squirm and tense, arching your back in pleasure. Masky's moans dont help as they vibrate into you, making you loose some of your thoughts. Hoodie smirks as you squirm, groaning from the vibrations to his manhood. He soon bites his lip, shoving more of his cock into your mouth with a tight squeeze. You choke, but don't gag. Hoodie is pleasantly surprised that you dont have a gag reflex, causing his dick to twitch in satisfaction. He continues to throat fuck you through your high, you shaking and trembling as your suffocated. Soon, you come onto Masky's face, the brunette desperately lapping and drinking the sweet fluids you gave him.

" Good girl. "

You hear Hoodie breath, thrusting in your throat before pulling out. You gasp and choke for air, letting out a loud whine as Masky plays with your clit. The stings of overstimulation makes you arch more in broken moans and whimpers. You babble before Hoodie quickly shuts you up, shoving his slick cock back into your mouth. Masky grunts, his moans stuttered as he stands. He comes onto you with a growl, panting as slick white ropes on your thighs and cunt. You choke on Hoodie's length as he facefucks you, moans and grunts spilling out of him. He babbles, muttering praising remarks with subtle degrading terms. It was long until he let's out a drawn moan, burying himself all the way in the back of your throat. You spasm as you come with him, for the second time. He covers his sticky ropes down your throat, pulling out. He quickly keeps a hand covering your mouth, his eyes narrowing at you.

" Swallow it. "

He sternly muses, in which you shakily swallow his juices. He groans watching your throat Bob as you swallow, letting his hand release your mouth. The room is filled with panting, harsh breathes, and the stink of sex in the air as you three catch your senses. You feel your body hot and bothered, covered in different fluids as your head spins with a small headache. As you all start to get your sense, Masky is the first to speak up with his gruffed voice.

" So… Who is better? "

" Why is that even a question? I'm obviously the best. "

" Zip it. You're not the one that made her scream your name. "

The two banter on as you think for a moment. Your body is heavy as you watch the two argue. You groan, wiggling as you get up from the table. You feel yourself peel off the wood from the slick sweat. The two silence at once, anticipating your answer. It wasn't long until you giggle, which turned into a mused sigh.

" I don't know.. I might need a round two. "

" What!? You can't possibly– "

" I'll do it. "

Masky happily obliges, leaving Hoodie at a loss of words or taunts. He pauses, mouth agape before turning into a disbelieved chuckle. You watch as Hoodie silently clicks his camera off, plopping it on the table. Masky's eyes are full of delirious lust, and Hoodie swears he's never met such a freak like you. Something in you tells you that you are in for a loong day.

[peaches-cs]

Expresso(John Soap MacTavish x Reader)

Summary: Johnny will be the first to admit that after years in the military he has a few screws loose. Or it might’ve been because of the bullet wound he took to the head. Sure he knows what he’s doing isn’t healthy. Call it obsession and delusion if you will. But, now he’ll do anything just to spend another second in your company. You belongs to him, you just don’t know it yet.

Warnings: John Soap MacTavish x reader, 18 +, Dark mature themes, unhealthy relationships, gore, violence, eventual smut(may have Non-Con), Dub-Con, kidnapping, stalking, creepy behaviors, death, F.Reader, Café AU but dark and twisted

Part 1

It wasn’t until recently Johnny has discovered just how challenging readjusting to civilian life would be. Of course such a drastic change would be difficult for anyone. Especially since he wasn’t supposed to be discharged so early. It was unexpected. The man is antsy. He hates sitting still, as he’s been forced to do since he took a bullet to the head. Between neurology appointments and physical therapy he’s been bound to his apartment for months. There’s an itch in his skin, the need to have some kind of busy routine to get through the endless bland and boring days of spring. His mum even came to visit him, helped take care of him after he acutely lost his ability to walk properly and speak in clear sentences. Even his memory was affected for a while.

Eventually his doctor gave him the okay to try finding employment. He’s gotten most of his functions back up to par, but sometimes he gets nasty migraines that make him want to vomit. As soon as he returned home from that same appointment, he grabbed his lap top and plopped down on his couch to begin job hunting.

It sounds perfect. Something to fill that empty void in his life even though he gets enough money due to military benefits and disability to let him live without a job. Being a Sergeant paid comfortably too. So, money is not truly a problem. After an hour of lazily searching with a glass of whiskey in his hand through different positions of different opportunities, he doesn’t find any that sounds appealing.

Johnny groans and sets aside his lap top, stretching his arms above his head before standing up. He scratches his stomach while walking lazily to the fridge. After tugging open the door, he narrows his eyes and huffs in annoyance at the emptiness inside of it. Time to go shopping.

After pulling on jeans and a basic black Tee, he takes the elevator down to the lobby of his apartment complex and exits the building. Swinging his set of keys around his index finger, he strolls down the sidewalk. He slows after spotting a quaint little café up ahead. He always passes it on his way to the shop. Except this time the now hiring sign catches his eye. Now that he’s retired from the military permanently, the man’s got a hell of a lot of time on his hands. So, he opens the door and enters, looking around curiously.

He strolls into the homey little building and is instantly hit with the smell of chocolate mixed with coffee. It’s cozy and warm, with windows that look out into the city and green plants in pots seated by them. The lights glow a warm yellow and the walls are painted a medium dark brown. It’s not busy, as expected due to the time of day being late morning. The early rush has clearly dissipated.

What really captures his attention is the lass behind the counter, busying herself with cleaning the counters in the coffee making area. When she hears him come in due to the bell at the top of the door, she turns around and meets his gaze with a smile that has his skin slightly flushing. She’s a pretty thing dressed in a black apron. He keeps his eyes on her face. Hell, he deserves a medal for not looking…lower.

“Can I help you, sir?” She asks in a sweet voice, using one of those higher pitched customer service tones. He gives her a lopsided grin and nods his head. Oh she could help him in a lot of ways, he thinks as he finally gives in and lets his eyes briefly flicker over her figure. The way the apron is tied around her accentuates her waist, tits, and hips. Such a bonnie thing she is.

Call it rash or dumb, Johnnys never been good at planning ahead- or thinking with his brain rather than his dick. Especially when cute little lassies like her are involved. She seals his decision in an instant when she looks at him with her pretty eyes. He points his thumb in the direction of the help wanted sign on the window.

“Aye, I’m interested in applyin for a job”

——————

Today was a usual day. Nothing special, nothing grand, morning rush was awful as always, and then you have class later after work. You hum to yourself as you clean up any spilt coffee beans or creamer by the machines. Finally, you get some peace now that the busiest time of day has passed.

Sadie, the old lady who owns this café and lives in an upstairs apartment above the restaurant, has trusted you to run pretty much everything by yourself. Well, you and Aiden whose a coworker of yours that became your friend that’s off today. You’ve been working for Sadie since…well your beginning year of college. Now you’re a senior, about to finish the spring semester.

Since her daughters and sons moved away, Sadie’s been alone. When you waltzed into her café, nearly begging for a job she took you in a heartbeat. She’s like a grandmother to both you and Aiden. However, you can never be here all the time and neither can Aiden, so you told her that it would be best to get another employee on board to handle things. Thus, this has resulted in a little help wanted sign being placed in the window of the café.

What was supposed to be a normal shift takes a turn when a nearly six foot hulking man built with bulky muscle and adorning an overgrown Mohawk saunters into the café. You’re not blind, he’s clearly attractive in a boyish yet gruff way. Some scars on his chin are visible. He’s got tan skin and beautiful blue eyes. He seems older than you. While you’re twenty two, he looks to be somewhere between late twenties, possibly thirty.

“Can I help you, sir?” You ask as he approaches the counter and you set down the cleaning supplies you were using. He gives you a playful smirk, one that gets your heart fluttering a bit. You stand in front of the register and get prepared to take his order.

“Aye, I’m interested in applyin for a job, '' He replies, scottish accent strong in his voice. You yourself have an American accent since you grew up in the states before deciding to move here to the United Kingdom. His words shock you for a moment, your lips pat in surprise.

“Oh! Got it, let me go grab the application paper for you to fill out” You give him a grin, relieved that someone actually decided to show interest for the barista position. Anyone would literally do. You’ve been waiting for the day someone came to apply and finally you’d get some extra help around the cafe. “I’ll have you fill this out and then I’ll just have a small interview to conduct after I give it a read” You tell him while snatching an application form off of the wall that’s clipped to a clipboard. After getting a pen from your breast pocket, you hand it to him.

Your fingers brush his for a moment when you pass him the pen and application. Something slightly uneasy though stirs in your stomach when his hand lingers against yours a little too long. You gently pull away.

“Yev got it lass” He responds and tucks the clipboard underneath his arm, holding the pen in that same hand. With his free arm, he extends it to you. The pure muscle rippling from underneath his tight shirt that stretches across his broad chest is crazy. “The names Johnny by the way, pretty lil place yeh got here” He greets. You place your hand in his and he shakes it gently, making you feel the rough calluses and collection of scars on his skin. His gaze flickers from your face down to where your hands connect.

“Oh it’s all thanks to Sadie, she owns this place not me” You explain while letting go of his hand. Your elbows rest on the counter as you stare up at Johnny, leaning over the counter slightly.

“Where is she at?” He asks while glancing around the empty café, running a hand through his Mohawk as he does so.

“Sadie’s at a doctor's appointment, I fear she is getting older” You sigh softly and glance at the ceiling where you know her apartment is above. You’ve been up there countless times to help Sadie with little things such as errands and carrying groceries.

“Ah, makes sense. Will I need to win her approval to get hired? Does she take bribes?” He jokes with a goofy smile that makes you giggle softly and shake your head. Your shoulders relax a bit.

“The only one you need to impress is me….and yes I do take bribes” You smirk slightly before turning around to finish cleaning up some things, your back facing him as he chuckles at your comment. “Have you ever worked as a barista before?” You ask while placing a new garbage bag over one of the cans hidden under the counter. A man like him coming to work at a tiny little café? He is the least likely person you’d expect to be interested in a job at a cozy hole in the wall like this.

“Oi has the interview process already started? I haven’t even filled out the application” He has a playful whine in his tone. You place your hands on your hips as you turn to face him.

“I lied, It truly started the moment you walked in and asked to apply” You tease.

“Well…ah suppose I’ve never been a barista in meh life, nor have ah worked in a café” He says as he glances down at the application, twirling the pen in his opposite hand as he holds the clipboard in the other. He glances up at you, eyes finding yours as he grins with his perfect white teeth. “But, I’m a very quick and…efficient learner lassie” He says that last part lowly, tone dropping an octave before he turns around on his heel and sits himself down in one of the chairs near the window to get started on his application.

—————

He watches her like a hawk, vaguely aware that he’s being a bit creepy by staring at her unblinking as she reads his application. Yet she’s so distracted she doesn’t even notice. He likes her already. Fuck. He swears his pupils dilate when she runs her tongue over her bottom lip while she focuses on her task. Makes him wonder how good she’d be with her mouth wrapped around his cock. God. He needs to get laid. Sure on base he wasn’t prone to Messing around with barracks bunnies or nurses from the med ward. And yes there are dating apps and shite specifically designed for hookups, but he hates going on those sites. He hasn’t been clubbing in a long while too. Needless to say his interaction with women has been…zero within the last six months.

Johnny is snapped from his thoughts after she gently sets the clipboard down with another bright smile. The interview was short and sweet, the basic questions were asked and he answered them. Johnny knows people. He knows how to work them. How to appeal to them. It all came with learning how to efficiently go undercover for certain missions.

“Okay, your charms have wooed me. You’re hired Johnny” She says and crosses her arms over her chest. He wonders why she said yes, especially since he has no experience whatsoever being a barista. But, he has an inkling that it had something to do with when she read over a particular question that asked what he did before he wanted to work at the café. Johnny was truthful, putting that he was medically discharged from special forces.

He noticed the slight frown on her lips and the way those pretty eyes were glazed over with sympathy for him while she read it. Pretty and nice, a lovely combination. Johnnys always gone for her type. Clearly studious from the textbooks lying behind the counter, medical related ones. A university student for sure. She’s a hard worker and he admires that.

“Thanks bonnie, seriously, thank yeh” Johnny decided to play up the part. He wants more sympathy points from her. He likes seeing her worried about him, makes his heart flutter at the thought of having a pretty lil thing like her concerned about his well being. “Life’s been pretty…hard since I’ve been discharged, wanted this job to make some money and have somewhere to actually be…homes lonely” He shrugs, a ‘sad’ smile on his lips.

“It does sound rough…I’m sorry'' She says and gets up from the chair, placing a hand on his strong shoulder. From how close she is he can smell her perfume and it makes him want to bury his face in her neck to get a better whiff. “I hope things get better, if you need anything tell me” She offers with a kind grin. He wonders if she tastes as sweet as she acts. “You can start with me for tomorrow's morning shift for training, sound good?” She asks him.

“Sounds absolutely perfect bonnie” He replies and leans back in the chair, eyes focused on the way her ass moves while she walks away to the back of the counter to start closing. In one afternoon he’s somehow managed to find a nice little job…and some entertainment too.

——————

You’re surprised when Johnny stays with you until close, yapping away as you put things away and clear off tables to clean them up. The café closes at 4 PM every evening. You’ve tried your best to get rid of him. He literally refuses to go and you’ve run out of excuses to get Johnny to leave. He follows you around like a puppy. Hell, even when you’re outside locking up for the night he stays standing right beside you. With only spending four hours with Johnny, you’ve learned a lot about the man.

While overwhelming…it iis sort of nice. Besides, you remember what he said earlier about adjusting to civilian life again. You feel bad…he must be lonely. He served his country, the least you could do is provide some company for him.

“So you don’t have any family here in the city?” You ask, bag slung over your shoulder as you yank the key from the keyhole in the door. Johnny shakes his head no.

“Nah lass, they all live on the countryside-on the farm” He sighs while shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

“No girlfriend? Boyfriend? Friends?” You try to pry further. If he has no one to go home to, that just makes you even more sad. Well, while you own your shitty little apartment not far from your university, at least you’ve got friends to fall back on for company.

“Nope” Johnny says with a shrug. “All my friends are deployed lassie, I’m all alone-. As for a girlfriend…I’m taking applications if yer interested bonnie” His lips curl into a smirk. Your heart does a little flip at the boyish grin he shoots your way.

“Haha very funny, now go home you’ve been here for hours!” You tell him and cross your arms over your chest. Admittedly, your social battery is a bit low at the moment, especially considering you’re going to have to study until bed tonight. That thought alone makes you irritable and exhausted already.

“And not walk yeh home? The city is a dangerous place!” Johnny exclaims, dramatically looking at the alley ways in the immediate area. Despite being socially tired, Johnny's playful demeanor does make you crack another smile.

“I’m perfectly capable of defending myself” You assure while showing him the pepper spray connected on a metal ring that holds your keys for work and home. Johnny blinks at the sight of the tiny defense weapon before scoffing, raising a single brow at you.

“Hate to break it to you sweetheart, but Someone could easily snatch yeh off the street- that wee thing of pepper spray won’t do much, common I’m walkin yah” He finalizes and shoots down any argument you’ve begun preparing in your head. A frown forms on your lips and with a sigh, you begin walking in the direction of your apartment. As you brush past him, you’re acutely aware of the hand he hovers over your lower back.

The situation is weird. Johnnys nice and he hasn’t given you any reason to be wary of him…but maybe he’s being too nice. It begins to process in your head as the two of you walk down the street that you’ve only just met four hours ago and now he’s walking you to your apartment. He stayed with you an extra FOUR hours until close, just sitting there watching you and making conversation. Is that not a little strange or are you overthinking things?

Eventually you arrive at your apartment. Those little red flags are shoved to the back of your mind. He’s just being nice probably.

“Well…thanks, see you tomorrow morning Johnny” You smile and readjust your bag over your shoulder. Johnny looks elated at the moment. You wonder why, but don’t question it.

“Night lass” He gives you a wave as you start to enter the apartment complex you live in. Little do you know as you make your way up the stairs, he’s watching the windows to try to see what floor of the building you live on.

[sorrowfulrosebud]

Alright, here's another one.

Protective wolf Bakugou scenario, something like a guy trying to hit on you or giving you a perverted look while out and about with Baku, go!

He’s such a protective pouty baby 🥺💕 warning for creepy guys and grabbing!!

Imagine taking a quiet walk to the hybrid park, Katsuki itching to be let off his leash as he sees the familiar red hair of his best friend. He’s pulling you as you laugh, pulling him down slightly as you unleash his collar.

He’s off in a flash, sniffing the redhead and letting him sniff in return. You watch them chase each other playfully, ducking and diving through the playing equipment. You smile and chuckle, before finding a quiet bench to read the rest of your book.

A solid 30 minutes go by, you getting more entranced in your novel until you heard a cough. You look up from your book to see a tall stranger looking down at you.

“Excuse me, may I sit down here?” He starts, sitting before you could deny him. You look at him before reading your book. The stranger shimmies forward to see what you’re reading before curling his nose up. You figured; he didn’t look the type to enjoy gothic literature.

“So uh, which of these mutts are yours?” He lazily waves his hand at the array of puppy hybrids playing with each other. You look at him annoyed and close your book.

“I’ll have you know it’s none of your business. And they’re not mutts, they’re hybrids. Hardly that much different than you or I; they just have more natural instincts,” you say sharply, going to move to another bench. Before you could finish, the stranger grabs your wrist with an iron grip and gritted teeth.

“Now listen here, you little bitch! I- ahh!” The stranger was cut off by a flash of red and yellow. Your hybrid was snarling behind his muzzle, grabbing on to the stranger’s wrist as his claws dug deeply into the flesh. Kirishima was shielding you from his view, holding you to his chest as they both snarled at the creep.

“Leave…alone,” Katsuki snarled out, eyes wide as he shook the stranger roughly. The stranger stammered as he winced in pain. He snatched his wrist back as Katsuki stood in front of you. The creep stared at you before angrily shrieking.

“I should have those mutts put down you fucking bitch!” He screamed, clutching his arm. Your heart pounded in your chest before another voice piped up.

“Sorry I’m late Kirishima, but I had to go help a sheep hybrid get his horns unstuck. Seems like I got back at the right time, cus I have everything on camera,” FatGum’s smooth voice cut through the air.

“And I mean EVERYTHING.”

The stranger looked wildly at you, then your puppyboy, then FatGum. He let out an aggressive scream, before running away. Katsuki spat as he ran, Kirishima’s hackles raised as he growled too.

As soon as the creep was gone, Katsuki turned to you and let out a quiet whine. Your hands found refuge in his fluffy locks as you shushed your puppy, kissing his forehead as he held you.

“Shh puppy, I’m okay. Such a good boy, aren’t you? You’re such a good boy for protecting me,” you murmur into his fluffy ear as his claws slowly retracted. His tail slowly crept from side to side as he snuggled into you.

“M-mate..keep safe,” he mumbled out. His speech was so much better, cracking less and sounding more like your language.

“Thank you, sweet thing. And thank you Kirishima! You’re such a good boy too!” You coo at them both as you petted their heads. Kirishima yipped as you ruffled his unruly mane of hair, his tongue resting comfortably over his lip as he panted; a sharp contrast to the pin-pricked eyes and bared fangs.

“He’s a good’un, aren’t ya Eiji? I suppose we gotta go back soon. What are ya gonna do?” FatGum asked you, seeing you were still a bit shaken up. You take Katsuki’s hand as you stroked it.

“I’m going to report that guy to the police, if you don’t mind sending me that video. After that, I think I’m gonna take Katsuki home and order some takeaway,” you smile, scratching your puppyboy under the chin.

“That’s fair. I’ll walk ya to the station since it’s on my way back. You never know if that creep could be lurking.”

True to his word, FatGum walked you to the police station and helped you file a report. You were worried about what they would say when Katsuki and Eijiro were found jumping the guy, but sighed in relief when they say the attack was minimal and provoked.

They gave you a lift home, dropping you off with a wave as you and Katsuki entered your home. You kicked off your shoes with a happy sigh, thankful for the day to be over with. You looked at your pouty pup who was lingering in the hallway.

“Are you okay, sweetpea?” You ask him quietly, holding him close to you as you look at his face. He nods, pulling you closer to him, and rubbed his face all over you. Ah, so he was scenting you.

“Stink…of man,” he grumbled, holding your wrists close to him and gently rubbing them against his mouth. His sandpaperish tongue provided gentle strokes as you giggle.

“Thank you angel, that’s very helpful,” you praise him, using your free hand to pet him. He sits on the couch and pulls you with him. You were comfortably jet-packed under him as he chuffed and licked your hair.

“My mate,” he grunted, whining at the thought of someone hurting his mate. He looked at the bruise on your wrist and growled as you turned over to face him. Gentle fingers traced his handsome face.

“I know, sweet thing. It was a scary thing. But I’m okay now, I promise! You scared him off and we went to the police. Everything is okay now. You protected me, my good boy,” you praise him softly.

He buried his face deeper into your neck as his arms circle your waist again. You were shocked when you felt droplets of warm water soak your neck, peeking and seeing Katsuki’s warm cheeks.

Your heart ached for the pup; he had so much taken from him when he was younger, so he must have been frightened when you were grabbed. It went deeper than you realised.

You held his body tightly to yours, weaving your legs together. Your hands played with his fluffy ears, soothing the upset pup. He peeked his head out 10 minutes later, placing his nose against yours. You smile at him, kissing his nose as you whipped out your phone.

“Now, how about we get pizza for dinner.”

[voxslays]

yooo I would love to see prompt #29: carving Jack o’ lanterns with angel dust x gn!reader please❤️ I feel like it would be so funny to visualize😂

Ofc! Thank you for requesting anonnie! <3

CARVING JACK-O’-LANTERNS

It was a bright autumn afternoon. There was a light breeze, which was very uncommon in the burning depths of hell, and the pentagram in the sky was glowing. Why? It was almost Halloween, and every year on the thirty-first of October, Lucifer would light up the pentagram completely. You had been sitting in the hotel lobby, carving one of your famous pumpkins. Over the years, you had gotten pretty good, learning everything you could about carving small details. You were carving keekee’s face into a Jack-o’-lantern, having grown fond of the one-eyed black cat, whom always seemed to be curling up and taking a nap on your lap.

You had completely tuned out everyone in the lobby, making you the perfect target for someone’s schemes. You suddenly feel a hand on your back, making you drop your box-cutter. You let out a small shriek and turn around, only to be met with pink eyes and white fur. “Angel!” You groan, picking up your box-cutter. Angel grins mischievously, not looking sorry at all for startling you. “Heh, gotcha good! You should've seen your face, toots.” He glances down at your pumpkin carving. “Wow, that's some seriously creepy shit.” You roll your eyes. “You didn’t have to sneak up on me.”

​​Angel leans against the armchair beside you, crossing his arms over his chest. “Nah, where's the fun in that? Besides, it’s almost Halloween.” He pokes at your cheek, grinning. “Whatever.” You pick up one of the smaller carving tools and continue carving keekee’s ears. Angel's grin widens as he plops down beside you, stealing the tool from your hand. “Oh, lemme help with that.” You carefully watch as he brings the small intricate knife closer and closer to the ghostly white pumpkin. “You’d better not mess it up!” You warn.

Angel starts carving, his fingers deft as he adds more detail to keekee's face, as he uses his second pair of arms to keep the pumpkin in place. “Relax toots, I've got this. I've watched you do it enough times, remember?” He hums to himself, clearly enjoying himself. You watch as he gently carves, all four of his hands at work, tenderly shaping the pumpkin. Angel finishes carving keekee's face, then holds up the pumpkin with a proud grin. “There ya go! Ain't it perfect?” He turns it this way and that, admiring his handiwork.

“That’s actually really good.” You gently take the top of the pumpkin and place a red candle inside, lighting it up. The two of you walk to the fireplace mantle and place it right above the intricate white fireboard, beneath the wreath made of orange and yellow fall leaves Charlie had found outside one day while taking a stroll with Vaggie. “Thanks Angel!” You say, squealing as you hug him. Angel's grin widens even more as you hug him, and he wraps all four of his arms around you in a tight embrace. “Heheh, anytime toots. We make a great team, don't cha think?” You smile. “We do.”