#might need to write w the pools again sometime for that

[nahokura]

Oooh I have a prompt! If you are still taking them.

Aziraphale gets obsessed with how sexy Crowley’s tummy is. His shirt slides up when he asks him to get a book on a top shelf and Aziraphale is super turned on by it and the ginger treasure trail and he keeps trying to find ways to see it until Crowley starts getting suspicious he’s acting weird. Feel free to add an embarrassing flustered Aziraphale hehe. First time smut/getting together is encouraged!! Sorry I’m obsessed with the idea of his hot gorgeous stomach so I’m projecting lol. Thank you if you choose to write it!!!! I hope you post all yr prompt fill fics

WITH PLEASURE!!!

Themes: light Smut, funny, fluff, comfort

Tw: Porn w/ plot? , First time, Dom!Aziraphale, Sub!Crowley, handjob

English isn't my first language, I'm sorry for the mistakes!

I also didn't write for a long time, so the writing might not be the best one you've read, but thank you if you take the time to read!

Aziraphale loved to stare at Crowley and that wasn't a secret, except to Crowley. Every time the ginger was in sight, he would immediately turn his head to him, have a little smile but quickly hide it, then he would go back to his usual hobbies, while sometimes glancing at Crowley.

The demon was oblivious to this, well, he did stare back anyways, so he didn't really pay attention to it.

Aziraphale was having a hard day, there were more customers than usual, and that's why he called Crowley and asked him to help him. The demon said no at first, but he couldn't resist so before Aziraphale hung up, he groaned, and said okay.

The angel eyed Crowley as they both worked. Crowley was getting the books for the customers, and Aziraphale was replacing them in the shelves so the bookshop stayed nice and tidy.

After a little time had passed, unfortunately they hadn't talked too much because of the customers, at least, they had stared at each other.

A customer came inside the shop, he looked around and saw the dictionaries that were on the highest shelf, because no one, actually bought dictionaries. He tapped Aziraphale's shoulder, and asked him politely to get it down, and the angel's voice echoed through the bookshop:

«Excuse me...Um, Crowley! Could you come give a book to one of our clients, please?!»

Crowley pratically shoved the book against the chest of the customer he was talking to, and he walked to the angel, a long groan leaving his throat. Aziraphale moved out of Crowley's way, and spoke again:

«This one...Ah! Yes! The biggest one!»

He flashed a big smile at the customer and explained about how he got the book, because the person asked it, and Aziraphale didn't like to lie. Even while talking, he glanced at Crowley, and inserted comments, apologizing for his grumpy behavior. When he looked back at Crowley and pointed him with his finger to talk about him to the client, he stopped in his track. Crowley was trying to get the book, obviously, but he was on his tip-toes, and the shirt that usually was stuck in his pants had gotten up a little bit, showing the start of the demon's slim waist and a ginger trail going from his pubic area to his belly button. Aziraphale's mouth stayed open for a bit, heat pooling in his stomach before he regained his composure and kept his conversation with the customer going as if nothing happened. Crowley got the book and handed it to the customer and gave him a forced sympathic smile.

«Here's your...Encyclopedia. Take good care of it and please, return it in time.»

The sympathy in his voice was definitely forced, Aziraphale could hear it, but he didn't make any comment about it. He simply agreed to what Crowley said as the customer left. Before he could leave for another client, Aziraphale discretely miracled a duster and handed it to him. Crowley arched an eyebrow.

«I'll take care of the customers now! Oh, and there are a few books that I need you to place in lower shelves, if you might, pretty please.»

The angel's words were fast, almost slurred, and the ginger didn't even had time to say anything that he was handed the cleaning device. His eyebrows furrowed at Aziraphale's behavior, and he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. He didn't complain, he just wanted the day to be over soon, and maybe drink with his angel to celebrate the end of it. Aziraphale stared as he walked to another customer, it was a chance that he could do two things at a time. Crowley didn't tuck his shirt back into his pants, and the blonde truly thought that it was a real miracle. Crowley could feel Aziraphale's eyes, and while he was picking up books and dusting the now empty shelves, he turned his gaze to Aziraphale, and despite his glasses being on and his poor eyesight, he could see his head turned to him. The angel looked away to concentrate on the client when Crowley looked at him, and the wheels worked inside the demon's brain. He looked down at himself, and noticed how his shirt was slighty raised. He got back on the flat of his feet, and he put the book back into the shelf, making sure that the author's last name started with the letter "T".

The last customer left the bookshop, and Aziraphale, with a sigh, closed the door and turned the sign over to indicate that the shop was closed. Crowley was laying on the couch, his legs spreaded awkwardly on both of the arms of the couch. He made sure that his happy trail was visible, he wanted to be sure that it was what Aziraphale was staring at. Crowley broke the silence first, making the angel turn over:

«Why was there so much people today?»

Crowley groaned and shifted, his right ankle going to his left knee. Aziraphale stepped closer to the couch Crowley was on. He was focused on the books Crowley stored for him, just to make sure that with everything that was going on at the same time, the ginger put them at the right place, so he answered without looking at him:

«Perhaps the bookshops close to mine were closed for some reasons.

–Well, I hope for you that they will all return the books, because if one of them don't bring one back, honestly, I wouldn't be surprised.»

Aziraphale finally looked at Crowley, and he gave a soft smile. Without even wanting it, the demon was showing that he cared, more than he wanted to. Crowley stared at Aziraphale for a moment, and his eyes followed as the angel's gaze fell to the hair on his tummy for a second, before he looked back into Crowley's eyes, trying to hide the fact that his blue orbs had wandered to another place. Crowley couldn't hide the smirk that tugged at his lips, and with his big mouth, he couldn't help but point it out in the most gentle tone he could:

«You're looking down, angel. Aziraphale's eyes widened, he feigned innocence, and he was failing beautifully.

–Wh- No! No, I'm not, it would be nonsense to...

–Oh, you were definitely looking.

–I was not!!!»

Aziraphale insisted, his cheeks puffing as they were getting tinted with a gorgeous tint of pink. Crowley laughed hoarsely, and couldn't help but tease him further, after all, his reactions were immaculate.

«Why would you deny it? I saw you, caught in the act. Several times!

–It's all in your head, Crowley.

–Oh, come on! We're in a relationship, I won't judge you for looking at my bottom!

–I was not looking at your bottom! I was looking higher!»

Crowley's grin widened, and Aziraphale realized the mistake he just made. He whined with embarrassment:

«Oooh, dear...!

–Told ye, angel. Caught in the act.»

Aziraphale stayed silent for a moment, and Crowley started to get concerned. He knew that the angel could get sensitive sometimes, and he didn't want to make him sad. Crowley used the arms of the couch to help himself standing up, and with a sigh, he crossed his arms and apologized:

«I'm sorry, Aziraphale. I pushed it a little far by teasing you, I shouldn't have.»

The only thing that came out Aziraphale's throat was a cough, and it was Crowley's time to look down.

The two beings never had sex, they made their relationship official not that long ago, but nothing really happened. The kisses were quick, because they never had the time to prolong it, but it never went further.

They were touch-starved.

Six-thousand years yearning for each other and now that they were officially together, nothing happened yet and it was torture for the both of them, because it was obvious that they craved the touch of the other.

Aziraphale pushed Crowley back against the couch, his hand firmly pressing against his chest as he straddled both of his thighs. The demon was taken aback, he noticed Aziraphale's hard-on and everything clicked in his mind. It was probably the real reason of why he was so embarrassed, because he had being turned on the whole day and Crowley teased him at the worst time. His hands went to Aziraphale's hips, and he held them tightly. He was still timid about touching him, his hands were shaking, and he had no clue of what to do with them. The angel leaned in, and he whispered, so low that if there still had been customers, Crowley would've had trouble hearing:

«Can I kiss you?»

Crowley frowned, what kind of question was that? He couldn't hold it anymore, he needed to feel Aziraphale close to him. He needed to feel his touch , he needed their bodies to mingle together.

«Don't hold back.»

When Crowley finished his sentence, Aziraphale's lips crashed against his. The kiss was messy, desperate. They had both closed their eyes as they tasted the feelings of the other on their tongues. Aziraphale's shaky hands unbuttoned Crowley's short jacket so the access to his tummy would be easier. Crowley helped him by sitting up and taking off the clothes that were covering his upper body. His breath was ragged, and he lifted a hand up to take off his glasses and abruptly throwing them on the floor. Aziraphale's hands fell to Crowley's waist, he groped at it, and rubbed his tummy with his thumb. God, he wanted to worship his body. Crowley slumped back into the couch with his face flushed, and Aziraphale got off his thighs to drop on his knees before Crowley. The ginger almost moaned at the sight, and he covered his face with a hand as Aziraphale started to kiss his tummy, his lips planting kiss everywhere, especially around the trail of red hair. His teeth sank into his hip, eliciting a low groan from Crowley. Aziraphale tilted his head up after leaving the purple bruise on his hip.

«Would you look at me, please, Crowley?»

Crowley couldn't help but obey, he looked back at Aziraphale through heated eyes, and the angel smiled at him.

«Very nice. I just want you to look at me when I want to say how pretty your whole body is.»

Crowley nodded as he mumbled under his breath. He couldn't get a single word out, he felt too overwhelmed by Aziraphale's presence, and all he could focus on was the fact that his lover left a mark over him. It was a simple thing, but it made the butterflies in his tummy crazy. Aziraphale's hands slid down to Crowley's thighs, making his breath hitch. The angel slowly unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his leather pants and gently pulled them down, encouraging Crowley with his eyes to arch his back a bit to help him take them off along with his underwear. Aziraphale swallowed and took a shallow breath, closing his eyes to compose himself. Crowley was burning everywhere, his face and his whole body. He felt like he was going to burn, literally. He didn't dare to look at Aziraphale as he wrapped a hand around Crowley's hard cock, pumping it up and down gently at first with his eyes closed. He half-opened them, and he was pleased to see that Crowley was already whirthring beneath his touch. It was obvious that he waited for this, that he was hungry for Aziraphale's touch. Aziraphale ran his thumb over the head of Crowley's member, and it made the demon's thighs jolt. His breath was heavy and he was holding his whimpers in his throat, and Aziraphale was determined to get the noises out of him. His hand worked faster around Crowley's dick, then he rubbed rapid circles with his palm over his tip. He repeated the process until Crowley whimpered, even as he tried to keep his moans manly, he failed and the moans turned into ragged low whimpers.

«Does it feel good? Aziraphale asked softly, his blue orbs never leaving Crowley's yellow eyes.

–Ngk...Yes...Feels good. Crowley breathed out.

–Good.»

Aziraphale covered the hand that was working on Crowley with his other hand, warming his cock even more. Crowley whined and bucked his hips up, his vision blurring by moments. Aziraphale jerked off Crowley without stopping, his movements were rapid, and he didn't show any signs of stopping down.

«Angel...»

Crowley grabbed the arms of the velvet couch with both of his hands and chased his release, his moans grew short and breathy, and he ended up chasing his own release.

«That's it, Crowley, you're doing good. You're almost there.»

Aziraphale was not certain, because he was making someone cum for the first time, but he could feel Crowley's dick throb, and his desperate breathing was also a sign that he was very close. Crowley closed his eyes in pure bliss, Aziraphale's praise only fueled his pleasure, and he couldn't believe that it felt so good. His heart pounded hard into his chest, and his thighs shook. He didn't know what was happening to him, but he understood when he ejected his release with a loud curse and his lover's name on his tongue:

"Oh fuck! Aziraphale!"

The angel slowed down his movements as his hands got coated with cum. He licked his lips who suddenly felt very dry, and he looked at Crowley, who was whining as he kept cumming. He bucked his hips up to ride out of his orgasm, and he caught his breath, who was still very loud. Aziraphale stood up, his knees ached slightly, but he wanted to make sure that Crowley was okay. It was a godsend that he always kept a box of tissues on his desk. He grabbed one and cleaned his hands as best he could, then he turned back to Crowley.

«Are you feeling okay? Aziraphale couldn't hide the concern in his voice.

–I'm fine... I'm fine... Crowley reassure him.»

Aziraphale leaned down to kiss Crowley on the cheek, and he couldn't help but also kiss his lips. Crowley willingly leaned into the kiss.

"What about you...? Crowley asked, his head tilting to the side.

–What about...- What? Aziraphale was oblivious. His own erection was straining in his pants, but he didn't know at all what to do, and he was too flustered to ask Crowley to return the favor. Crowley patted his lap, his gaze caring.

–C'mere angel, 'm gonna take care of you.»

[luneariaa]

my first time ever writing for higuruma, and i'm not too satisfied w/ this + higu seemed ooc as well, i'm sorry :") trying to practice writing him more in the future! 💜🌻

. dividers by @/cafekitsune !! 🌻

And one more maple leaf fell to the hard ground. You bend over to pick it up, and examine it more closely with a small smile upon your features.

Just a day left before the year changes. You stood there underneath the shady tree, as if you were contemplating with your pool of thoughts. You aren't ready to leave this year behind, yet you're just glad and grateful that you're able to experience this moment of time and place.

"Ah, the leaf looks rather nice." Higuruma breaks the brief silence between the both of you, not knowing what other words to say at the same time. "And it's almost time for a new year too."

You simply gave him a warm look and a nod, then returned your attention to the leaf that was still in your fingers.

Higuruma returned the look that you gave him as a sudden question occurs to him, which feels completely natural on its' own.

"Have you thought of any wishes for the upcoming year yet?" He feels curious all of a sudden; also wanting to try to initiate any conversation with you as possible.

"Mm nope!" You shook your head, "Not yet at least."

"How about you?"

Higuruma hums for a bit; now standing not too far from where you are, but still keeping a reasonable distance between you two. "Well, if I'm being honest, I haven't really given it much thought as well."

"But if I really had to pick one, it might be something like, trying to spend more time with the people that I actually care about."

He stops just about there, not knowing what to say next. But also leaving you some room for whatever you wanted to say.

"Ah, that's nice then!" You nodded with an understanding look, before sending him a smile once again.

"So like, does that mean you're going to find any potential partner for the upcoming year?"

He snorts a bit in a lighthearted manner, obviously didn't mind your question. "I guess I've been so focused on my work that I really haven't thought about having any relationship.."

"It's almost frightening how fast the years have gone by, and how little time that I actually had for myself."

"Working, solving cases, paperworks.. I sometimes find myself thinking about how nice it would be to have someone to come home to at the end of the day."

"And yet when the evening arrives, I'm usually already way too exhausted." He shrugs with signs of acceptance in his expression. "Maybe I'm just not meant to be with anyone."

"Don't say that-- it's not true." You shook your head with a small sigh, partly disagreeing with his words. "Although I would agree with you; it's really nice to have someone that's actually waiting for you at the end of the day."

He nodded, fixing his attention on the existing lake being displayed ahead of you two. Just by the mere thought causes him to feel the temporary loneliness lingering within him, but quickly tries to brush off his thoughts.

It's seemingly pointless to ponder on such stuff, especially right now.

"I do wish the same for you though."

Higuruma gives you a light chuckle before adding up to the previous statement, "And who knows; maybe it'll be a tall, handsome man of your dreams."

You grinned widely at his rather corny remark while shaking your head amusingly. "Hmm.." With your eyes narrowing slightly in a mischievous manner, you shift your gaze to him.

“I suppose you got a point."

He merely nodded while looking everywhere else but you. You wonder what's running through his mind right now.

"But to be frank, I did found the one. I just didn't know if she would return the same feelings as I do for her, y'know."

And as he tells you, a small smile appears on his face. He wasn't looking at you when you did, so you kept on staring with a rather curious look.

You try not to get your hopes up, and you gotta admit that your heart did sting when he said those words.

You just needed a direct confirmation in a way, that is if he wanted to do so. You can't even tell what your own mind is blabbering about right now.

"I never knew when the moment would be right, even though I've been friends with her for quite some time now."

"But then again, who would love someone as busy as me?" It came off as more of a realization himself if anything. And even though the said person didn't have the same feelings as he did-- he'll be fine with it, and he won't stop loving her no matter what.

It took a while, but you eventually came out with a reply. "You're wrong," and this made him turn his gaze back to yours once more.

"How about this--" you began to suggest an idea to him, "--why don't you just try to go for it? It's better to confess as soon as you can than never."

God, you didn't even know why you would say anything as such if it only leads to your impending mental destruction, yet you still did it anyway.

But as long as he's happy; then you're happy for him as well. It's just how it works.

“You really think I should?"

His dark-coloured eyes focused on you alone, as if to try to let your words sink into his mind. The attorney let the idea weigh down a bit. "Won't that be too sudden?"

"I mean, if you really have feelings for her, then I guess you should." You encouragingly nod at him, trying not to act nosy on who he's actually referring to. It could hurt you more when you know that someone, especially when it's not you.

And of course, your words made him rethink the possible decision that he might finally make after all this time; trying to get into his own finalised conclusion.

“I guess I'll have to try."

"Do wish me luck then."

"Good luck!" You beamed at him-- or at least, tried to, and thought he would leave elsewhere afterward. But no, he remained in his previous spot as he seemed to be contemplating something more.

"You know, the woman I liked-- she's just amazing." Higuruma smiles to himself, much to your slight confusion as to why he would tell you such a thing. Not that you minded much, you suppose.

"Compassionate, honest, beautiful. I can just go on for hours talking about her."

When he realises your answers become way less and not even bother to look at him in the eye, he pushes himself to ask you something further.

"I'm curious though."

"Out of everything that I told you so far, did anyone cross your mind at least?" You somehow missed the mischievous glint that was present within that moment, temporarily distracted by some people who passed by the other side of the lake.

"I don't know..?" You paused for a second, "Was it Sakiko?"

A random guess, but worth a shot. The attorney has his eyes widened slightly and unexpectedly, before his lips cracking more into an amused grin.

"Sakiko? No, not her." He tells you that with a voice full of confidence, and with your even more perplexed expression, along with eye contact helps him more.

"I was honestly talking about you the entire time."

Now, it's your turn to be baffled-- eyes widening slightly at his unexpected statement. "I-I'm sorry?"

This isn't what you're expecting at all, and suddenly you feel dumb for your own thoughts from before. Higuruma lets his stare linger upon your form for much longer; a smile still present.

"I know this might sound sudden--"

"-- But yes, I was actually referring to you." The attorney confirms all of your suspicions with ease. Higuruma has nothing much to fear, not anymore.

"Oh, well-- I didn't expect that actually." With the clear of your throat, you tried your best to keep your composure despite your flustered expression at the realisation slowly unravelling itself before you.

"I really thought you meant someone else.."

Higuruma chuckles once again, finding your current state rather endearing. If anything, he adores it.

Slowly, but surely, he takes a few steps closer to you, cupping your cheek tenderly with one of his hands. You stayed frozen at your spot, still trying to process the whole situation that's unfolding at the very moment.

"I'm merely being honest when I said all of those words."

"That's just like, a few of them. Because if I were to try to list every trait of yours that I genuinely adore--" He gazes into your eyes; a look that's filled with genuine warmth and a look that seems to be piercing straight into your soul, yet comfortingly so. "-- it would be endless."

Your face is just straight-up heating at this point, while your heart is beating wildly against your ribcage upon the proximity that you both shared. You would've melted if you could.

It's just so sweet. He's trying to take his time to properly confess to you.

"Do you have any idea how badly I've wanted to tell you those words?" His voice, barely a whisper, continued on with a soft caress on your cheek.

"But I was afraid back then."

"I didn't want to ruin anything-- our friendship, that we have built together."

“But you somehow gave me the strength to do so. I needed it so much."

Finally regaining your own composure and processing his words, you gazed at him still, with an affectionate look of your own. The way you smiled up at him-- God, he feels like he falls in love with you all over again.

"I'm actually glad that you did."

"So now, I don't have to hide my feelings for you too." And it oddly sounds easier admitting out those words right now; the words flowing out of your mouth ever so naturally as possible than before.

“Really?" He chuckled lightly, still holding onto you. "You've been waiting for me too?"

The leaves from the tree continued to fall toward you both, but none of you bothered to pay any attention to it-- and so did the passersby from afar.

With newfound enthusiasm, you nodded with a grin that’s now plastered on your features beautifully. The feeling of utter relief is so real for the both of you-- and the feeling just blooms even more when he wraps both of his strong arms around your form, and places his forehead against yours.

He looks extremely content, and it's such a pleasing sight to see because he's been so preoccupied with his work ( and thoughts of you ) as per usual these days so often.

But knowing that he won't have to spend the upcoming new year alone without a partner anymore-- with the woman he loves so dearly, it's all worth it in the end.

© 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚜.

[sweetrottenendings]

"The Truth of Us"

Lawrence Oleander x GN AFAB!Reader NSF/W

TWs/Tags: Dead Dove, Blood, Wound opening(/fingering kinda), pretty tame ngl but it's Lawrence so be warned lol

Idk how I feel but I'm still gettin used to it lols writing smut is confusing

Lawrence has always been obsessed with your body- it's been clear since he took you and proceeded to fondle your spine, groping each vertebrae. He’s smitten with your heart especially, the way it pumps blood throughout you, the sounds it makes when he listens close enough. Those hands of his often press against where it would be on your chest, rambling about how desperately he wants to grab it- feel the wet organ squirm as he tears it out. You used to think he actually would, he honestly might have at the beginning- but he’s come to love you too much. The connection you two share is one he will never find again in life or death, there’s no way he can let that go just yet.

He lets out a shaky breath, tracing the pattern of a heart (the actual organ, not the cutesy shape we associate with it) with trembling fingers. “It would be so delicate.” He whispers. “I wish I could just reach into you and squeeze.” Although quiet, he no longer stutters when he speaks to you- coming to feel some confidence, considering the power he holds over you. Warmth floods your gut as he fawns, a sick lust bubbling in your soul. He’s really made you into a sick freak, hasn’t he? Anything to make life with him better, you suppose.

You let out a sigh as his hands reach to grip at your waist, rubbing the flesh between his fingers and pressing hard enough to bruise. His cheeks are a gentle shade of pink when he leans in to kiss you with chapped lips and you allow yourself to soften into it. He’s never really become good at kissing, his motions are always uncoordinated and sloppy with the occasional clashing of teeth- but that’s how you like it. The truths of his love fumble out with those kisses in which he can never bring himself to hide them, he’s so smitten that he can only meld his lips into yours like that of a schoolboy with his first partner. 

A hand reaches back up to that spot on your chest, he digs his nails into it and rubs at the marks.

“Would your heart taste sweet?” He muses, slightly breathless. “I can just imagine it- fuck I need it so bad-” A sweet whimper spills from him, his eyebrows furrowing as he imagines the taste of the wet, squishy organ on his tongue. You shiver at his words, imagining it yourself too. Although logically it isn’t possible- the idea of watching him take large bites out of your heart makes the budding arousal throb harder. The closest thing you can get right now is the awkward meshing of your tongues, you swirl them together causing drool to pool down your chins. Sticky, messy- everything Lawrence isn't but sometimes, he'll indulge with you. He just adores you so dearly in his fucked up little brain.

He pins your hands above your head (the hands you proved yourself worthy of keeping, thankfully) in a swift movement. With deeply blushed cheeks and lidded eyes he pants, chest heaving with each intake of breath. He's oh so beautiful, in all of who he is and it makes you so needy. Your legs are nudged apart with his knees so they lay gently around his waist. The aching length of his cock grinds into your core through each other's clothes and he whimpers at the contact, while you let out a breathy sigh.

“Mmph- I wish I could tear you open” He lets out a shaky sigh. “and just, lick every organ you've got.” The gory, lewd image causes his grip on you to tighten. You desperately lift your head up for another kiss, always so desperate to feel his lips on yours. He only indulges you with a peck before lifting the shirt you wear– the only clothing you really have besides underwear. Lawrence likes the vulnerability of it, but gets too flustered if you're completely nude, so it's a compromise.

As he lets go of your wrists you reach out to him, wanting him to follow suit in terms of nudity. He hesitates, he always does, still insecure in his body despite how much you love it.

“Please Law…” You whine, as sweetly as you can. “wanna see you, please?” 

He lets out an exasperated sigh, like you're a child asking for a second sweet, and lifts his shirt over his head. His skin has that slightly grey tinge, like it's had the life sapped from it (which technically it has.) and you stare at him in awe. You'll never get tired of seeing him- just as he'll never get tired of seeing you.

A hand goes to your left breast, grabbing what he can of the soft flesh and kneading it causing you to moan softly. He used to hate when you made any sound, frightened by having a partner that's responsive, but over time he's come to enjoy it. However you can't be too loud, it still irritates him- keep the volume just right and he'll be throbbing within you. “So soft…” He coos, gazing gently at you. “always so soft, squishy, fragile.” He giggles, leaning his face to yours, you feel his breath fan your lips.

“My fragile little flower, you wilt so easily don't you?” He asks with a hum, but he doesn't want an answer. He pinches the already hardened bud that is your nipple between his fingers roughly. It makes you squirm in pain, which makes him shiver in delight. The hand not in use slowly travels down your body, groping any flesh he can get his hands on. Your stomach, waist, hips- he grabs every part of you excitedly before sliding down to your panties where he feels the soaked patch you left. He groans, “Always so wet and needy.” A finger slowly begins to rub where your clit would be in little circles, and he relishes the small moans you let out. 

“You really are a flower, huh? So pretty, fragile and desperate for attention at every given moment~” He sighs wistfully, “And so dumb, no brains at all.” Although you feel ashamed, the mockery makes you throb with need. There's something about being so pathetic that you're compared to a plant that you enjoy- maybe it's the idea of needing to rely on him, forever. 

Both of his hands move to the waistband of your underwear, slowly peeling them down so he can see the way your slick leaves a little string between you and the fabric. His nails scratch you as he removes them, leaving little marks along his path. You try to cover your face out of embarrassment but a hand to your throat stops the motion.

“Don't you dare.” His voice comes out in a growl, filled with rage at the mere prospect of hiding from him. “Keep your eyes on me.” 

Without warning he's suddenly knuckles deep with two fingers in your pussy and you let out a gasp. He fingers you aggressively, nails occasionally scraping on the sensitive flesh of your inner walls. It hurts, it hurts so good. It makes you writhe and arch your back, squealing at the sensation when he curls his fingers to hit that spongy spot inside of you. 

“Law-” You gasp, words coming out between harsh breaths. “Need to- can I- please-”

He scowls, covering your mouth and quickening the pace of his fingers. “Be quiet.” 

He removes the hand and takes advantage of the space your arched back has made. He reaches around to it- the wound that encapsulates everything the two of you are. He prods at the wound on your spine, and digs his fingers into it until it splits- you scream. It hurts so fucking bad- and it makes you cum all over his fingers. The pain, the pleasure- Lawrence. It's just too much, and makes you a convulsing, trembling mess.

“You can never keep quiet can you?” He taunts, voice filled with rage which you can't tell if it's genuine or fake. “Always so loud, maybe I should cut your tongue and shut you up.” Your heart pumps with fear, but you know he'd never do it. Not now, when he's developed an affection for your voice that he didn't have before.

He withdraws his fingers from your cunt, covered with your cum and a few droplets of blood. The fingers go into his mouth and he swirls his tongue around them, savouring the taste in silence before hitching your legs onto his shoulders. The tip of his aching, leaking cock drags along your slit, coating it in the remnants of your orgasm. He moans at the sensation, prodding your clit with his tip and bucking into it slightly. You whine at the teasing, and he grips your jaw harshly. 

“Quiet.” You finally listen to him, managing to gather yourself enough to lower your sounds into near whispers. He visibly relaxes at this, smiling at your obedience. “Good, my sweet flower.”

His cock is sheathed into you with one fluid motion, pressed so deeply it nearly kisses your cervix.

“Warm- you’re always so warm-” He drawls, little bits of drool dripping from his lips. The warmth of your body has always made him break, it’s the only warm body he’s ever fucked- ever will fuck. You bite your lower lip to prevent from yelping, drawing blood which Lawrence lowers his tongue to so he can lick it up. He moans at how your blood tastes, and reaches back around to your open spinal wound to get more. You hadn't noticed due to all the sensations but there was a lot of blood- you’d be okay, but it wouldn't seem like it at a first glance. He dips his fingers into it, prodding as close to the vertebrae as he can. Your eyes water and you have to force yourself not to scream. Then bringing his fingers back to his lips. He laps at your blood like it's the sweetest treat he could ever find (It probably is.) and he lets out a languid moan as he practically fingers his own mouth.

“Fuck, I could just-” A shuddering breath, and muffled speaking. “I could just drink you dry.” He finally begins to thrust, fingers still deep in his mouth. It’s immediately fast, hard, aggressive- every strong emotion Lawrence can muster comes out when he fucks you. The confidence he’s found over time has made him a violent man to fuck, just like his violence in day to day life. Tears stream freely down your cheeks as you desperately try to keep your moans quiet, cute whines slipping out that he smiles at. You’re overstimulated, your senses are flooded and there's no escape because all there is is Lawrence. 

His dingy bed creaks with every thrust, the squeaks of the springs ringing in your ears in a way that makes you squirm. It’s an awful sound, but you'll put up with it if it means you get to see him like this. Lost in pleasure, lost in you and lapping your blood like it's a drug. Quickly another knot builds and you curl your toes in a desperate attempt to not fall apart just yet. The way you tighten around his cock makes him whine and fuck you faster, his hips stuttering as he comes closer to the edge. You want to cum with him, so you'll hold back as long as you can.

“Fuck- haah- ‘m close,” He groans, blue eyes staring deeply into your own eyes. “G-gonna cum, you’re gonna t-take it all yeah?” He begins to stutter as he gets closer, voice betraying the confidence he portrays. You nod desperately, “Yes! Please Lawrence- fuck!-” A squeal erupts from your throat as you cum, unable to hold back any longer. Although loud, he doesn't seem to mind it this time as the feeling of your orgasm sends him into his own. His body presses close against yours as he spills into you, pumping every drop of his seed as deep as he can. “T-that’s it- take it all-” Hot breath fans your face as he speaks, his eyes locked deep into yours. Blue is all you see, sinking you deep into his soul. (If he still has one.)

You both slowly relax after the post-orgasmic bliss settles. His body falls to lay on top of you, arms wrapped around you as he traces his fingers up to play with your spine once more. It’s not sexual now, instead it's like comfort to him. Feeling your flesh, your bones, the delicate curve of your spine. It hurts, but you instead focus on the comfort that is snuggling into his sweaty chest. He’ll fix you up later, give you some tea to make you relax. 

Maybe this is what you were made for.

[surftrips]

LOVE HIM (I DID)

OBX WRITING WEEK DAY 4 — SECOND CHANCE W/ RAFE CAMERON

word count: 1093

summary: rafe leaves for the last time. y/n comes back for the last time.

a/n: sorry this is a day late! was absolutely slammed this week with work, so the rest of my stories for obx week will be pushed back by one day. <3

You should’ve known better. You had met Rafe through your favorite cousin, at a backyard pool party. It was late and you two were the only ones left standing outside, lighting cigarettes off the oven. 

That was in the summer, you could’ve never seen the bloodbath that was coming. Never would have known what a waste of time being with him was. Because no matter how good it felt, none of that was worth how awful his absence felt.

And no matter how much you wanted it to work out, loving him was just not fair. It was sad really, how often he left and how often you let him back into your life. 

“Why are you leaving again? Please tell me,” you begged. 

"Because I don't want to fucking hurt my girlfriend.” Rafe snapped. "God, half the time I'm with you, I'm scared I could break you, even though I'm doing everything I can to hold back."

You wanted nothing more than to help him. It broke your heart to see him struggling and instead of going to you for help, he would run away. Every time. 

“Rafe, I can handle it. We’re supposed to be in this together,” you responded.

“No, no I can’t hurt you anymore.”

“You’re hurting me right now.” 

That was the last time you two spoke, nearly a month ago. You, too tired to try anymore, and Rafe, too stubborn to come back for one last time. 

He had his issues. He would come over upset sometimes, from a long day of work or dealing with his father. You were always able to calm him down, but you could tell that he felt like a burden. You always assured him he was anything but, that you loved him and you would never get tired of him. 

It never seemed to get through his head, or his heart, the fact that he was loved. You began to believe that maybe love wasn’t enough, that maybe you weren’t enough. 

Being with him started taking a toll on you, and he knew this too. But this didn’t mean that you wanted to break up, you were willing to fix things with him. You always were. 

Even though you weren’t seeing him anymore, you had his best friends send you occasional updates on how he was doing. Topper said that he was, quote, “sad, but getting through it,” which you’re not sure was reassuring or not. 

Still, you were glad to see him back at work and smiling sometimes on the beach. You kept your distance from him, knowing that maybe this was the break he needed to finally get better. If you weren’t going to help him, you just wished someone or something else did. It was a hard truth to swallow, that the love of your life might be better off without you, but you loved him more than the truth. 

One day, his other friend Kelce told you something that stopped you in your tracks. Apparently, Rafe was in therapy. You could hardly believe the words he was saying to you.

“Like, he’s talking to a professional? About his feelings?”

“Apparently, he didn’t say much to me. You know how he is,” Kelce explained.

“What were his exact words?” Maybe his friend had heard wrong.

“Uhhh, ‘Nah, I can’t go, I got therapy.’” 

“That’s it?”

“Yeah, that was it.” 

“Well, how does he seem nowadays? Better?”

Kelce hesitated, knowing that if he said yes, you might feel bad, but if he said no, you would feel even worse. He settled on the truth, “Yeah, honestly he does seem better. Smiling and laughing. Making jokes again. He was so serious a few months ago when you guys broke up for real.” 

The word “break up” was still sensitive to you, but you pushed on. “Good, that’s really good. Thanks, Kelce.” 

Back at home, you wondered about what this meant for you two. If there was even a “you two” to begin with. You both had been on your own for so long now, it almost felt like that backyard pool party had never happened. Almost.

You knew that no matter how hard you tried to forget him, Rafe would always be an important part of your life. You told yourself that you didn’t love him anymore, that you only used to, but that wasn’t true. No matter how hard loving him got, losing him was even worse. You decided that this would be the last time once and for all. 

He answered his door on your third knock. 

“Y/N? What are you doing here?”

“Hi, Rafe. How are you? Can I come in?” you said, trying to sound nonchalant. 

“Uhh, sure. Come in, is there something wrong?” His eyes scanned your face and body for any signs of distress or hurt. 

“No, nothing is wrong,” you smiled at him gently, hoping to change the anxious expression on his face. “Kelce told me you were in therapy.” 

“Oh.” 

“Is that true?”

“Yeah.” He wasn’t offering you anything. “My therapist says that I should take time to be alone right now. To work on myself instead of depending on other people.” 

“I understand,” you said slowly. “I just came over here to check on how you were doing.”

“Look, Y/N, we do this every time. I appreciate you checking on me but this is my problem to fix.”

“You can fix this problem, but that doesn’t mean you have to be alone all the time. You know I’m here for you, right?”

“I know, but that was the issue. I only depended on you. It wasn’t fair to you.”

For the first time, he was admitting it out loud. The fact that there was never a balance in your relationship.

He continued, “You didn’t have anyone to lean on. I knew that and I was being selfish because I couldn’t stand the thought of being alone.” 

“Rafe…” 

“Y/N, can I just ask you one thing?”

“Yes?”

“That you’ll be there for me when I’m better. I’m not telling you not to see anyone else, or even wait for me, just that I’ll at least have a friend when I find myself again. Because I’m worried you’re not going to like who that is, hell, I don't even know who I am underneath everything.” 

You sighed, “Of course. I know you, I know how incredible and kind and sensitive you are. You’re my best friend, at the end of the day. Always.”

With that, he pulled you into his arms and you hugged as if for the first time. 

[phthalology]

Destiny 2: Symbiosis

(For @xivu-arath and featuring their Omen-5. These two are a fascinating match and I wouldn't mind writing a longer story with them one day.)

They had met another time, Kass and Omen, but that was before the Throne World, before the excess of life that colonized Kass’ eye and cheek. Kass hadn’t expected to see Omen’s familiar face again in the courtyard of the Siblings of the Holy Orb, during the time of Rasputin’s slow revival. 

Curtains thin enough to see through hung from the columns around the temple. A shallow pool glittered blue in the sunny, open courtyard.

Kass was returning a book. The Siblings had been a partner group to the temple where she had taken her sabbatical. The librarians knew each other. They had known, therefore, when the Siblings unearthed from an older, lost sect a book about Light corruption.

Light corruption had been a theory when this book was written. Light-as-cancer, Traveler-as-tumor. It wasn’t how Kass wanted to think about the golden eye sunken into her socket, the pinpricks of seed-stuff she felt around it sometimes like the spokes of a wheel or the legs of a spider. Eris had magicked those back under her skin, but Kass could feel them. 

Omen looked like xe needed help.

Xe had paused at the bottom of the wide, low steps to scratch at xyr own arm. Claws shaved off the top layer of Tree bark sculpted like a shoulder. It met Exo metal somewhere under xyr short-sleeved tunic. 

As she moved to greet Omen, Kass put on the posture of the Young Wolf like a cape. She’d done enough parades that she could turn it on, now; the set of shoulders just so, the set of graceful hands. Only the fact that she was wearing flowing robes instead of armor and the eye itself couldn’t be changed. Ready this way, she swept down the stairs. 

“Omen?” She said softly. 

Xe stopped trimming bark immediately. “Ikora told me I might find you here. She told me …” Xyr hesitation seemed intentional, not for dramatic effect but as if xe were listening to a signal from far away. “You’d have a book.”

“It might not help.” Kass’ eye ached. Sympathetic phantom. How inconvenient. “I didn’t find anything. The theory, though …”

“What about the theory?”

Kass fumbled. Xe was very direct. But many Warlocks were. “I found it interesting.” She handed the book out, but xe didn’t take it. 

Omen met her eyes. “Thank you. Ikora knows it is hard for me to stay in the City for long, but she thought this meeting was important. I think it is.” 

Kass looked up. Diaphanous curtains swept across the horizon of the Traveler. “Can you not stay because of the Light?”

Omen nodded, so xyr answer surprised Kass. “No. The City itself … isn’t right for me. Does the Traveler change how your Tree feels?”

This question, too, struck Kass as direct. It was pleasant, though. Some people did not want to speak to her as if anything had changed. She had started to want a happy medium between their silence and Eris’ intimate tending. Your tree, xe had said. She didn’t always think of it as hers, yet the words felt right. 

“I am glad you asked.” Kass gave a parade smile. It felt uncomfortable. 

Her Ghost drifted along to a polite distance to talk to Omen’s, and Kass used the moment xyr eyes flicked to the Ghosts to relax her expression.

“The Light makes my eye … brittle,” Kass said. “Or erupting. I don’t know what to call it. It broke open not long ago. Bled sap.”

Omen nodded as if this was both normal and interesting. “One of the hyacinthoides — it’s a whole family of plants, very loose classification of plants — on Nessus softened the bark a little. Made it more comfortable. But I haven’t studied it long.”

“It’s worth a try.”

“If I can find more, I’ll let you know,” xe said.

“Trade?” Kass asked. 

Xe reached out for the book, and Kass gave it. Leather binding whispered against metal fingers. We should be better friends, she found herself thinking, except for the physical distance between them. Kass’ position made her unusually sedentary for a Hidden when not throwing herself against the solar system’s worst enemies. Omen, as far as she knew, wandered more. There were as many similarities as differences, though; she suspected but did not know for certain that they viewed romance and attraction with similar baffled indifference. 

The conversation had been so easy. A simple trade. No complicated pity. That was worth a lot. 

They talked some more and the feeling of ease stayed. The smile she left Omen with wasn’t the one people saw at the parades. It was softer, crinkled the skin around her good eye more. She felt the spokes under her skin move with it. 

[lunaryrs]

🎵 cora and sienna

team / lorde

call all the ladies out, they're in their finery. a hundred jewels on throats, a hundred jewels between teeth. now bring my boys in, their skin in craters like the moon. the moon we love like a brother while he glows through the room. dancing around the lies we tell, dancing around big eyes as well. even the comatose, they don't dance and tell.

this one representing the entire friend group... i think they're so early lorde coded because they're so small town punk bitch royalty, skateboard wheels on cracked asphalt, slurpees in the parking lot, the gaggle of them with bruised knees and scuffed converse feeling on top of the world cuz their little hole-in-the-wall bar doesn't look too hard at their fake IDs when its otherwise dead on tuesday nights.

youth / troye sivan what if we run away? what if we left today? ... what if we start to drive? what if we close our eyes? what if we're speeding through red lights into paradise? 'cause we've no time for getting old, mortal bodies, timeless souls. cross your fingers, here we go. ... my youth is yours.

ummm why do i need ot explain this one just read the words. no i'm kidding i had a whole thought out thing for this one but i prioritized writing out other ones and then jake called me in the middle of doing that and i forgot about everything and this whole meme went to shit and here we are. but i know that you have a big brain and honestly? even if you didn't this one is pretty self explanatory.

16 / sadie jean

your old room, these walls look different. nothing's new, just days and distance. and i'm freaked out the more i realize it's gone now, but sometimes i want to be 16 at the park, parked in your dad's car. ... best friends, wanna get drunk in a backyard. so cool hanging out in the backyard. girl talk, talk about boys like it's business. mom's mad, gotta get home this instant. 16, bittersweet.

bram is only a baby and all but fuck that guy for coming between them like this............ i don't know i just picture cora in that little apartment with the baby reminiscing on the youth that she had/should still have rly and seeing her friendship w sienna at the center of it all. reflecting on the passing of time and all that's been lost and gained. they're still in each other's lives they'll just never have that version of themselves back and i think cora wishes she recognized how good those moments were when she was in them

"slut!" / taylor swift

flamingo pink, sunrise boulevard. clink clink, being this young is art. aquamarine moonlit swimming pool. what if all i need is you? ... adorned with smoke on my clothes, lovelorn and nobody knows. love thorns all over this rose. ... but if i'm all dressed up, they might as well be looking at us. and if they call me a slut, you know it might be worth it for once.

my little lesbianism au... i love it because it conjures up images of like the neighborhood pools they'd hop the fence into, them attached by their pinkies floating side by side on tacky pool floats they got prior raiding walmart with full intent to trespass bc they knew someone was on vacation or whatever. i know i told you i never really had a reason for cora's general sense of discontent until i thought of this and everything kind of clicked. very clear on sienna being all she could ever need but hadn't considered it in the romantic sense and i couldn't unthink of it that way ever since. in terms again of the greater friend group given how a few of the guys treat mollie it's like ok... perhaps not the biggest leap to think there's some misogyny there, surely some criticism from the skeevier guys that would feel like yknow the hot girls in the friend group are obliged to them somehow (and of course being romantically involved w some of them already as well). so i like this idea that they have this sensual secret thing going on and just kind of weighing the pros and cons of being like fuck it lets abandon this charade

[hospitalterrorizer]

diary303

7/18-19/24

thursday-friday

wow...303...like the tb 303 bassline synth... crazy.

the fact i can make the day text in that stupid font is like endlessly entertaining to me. i might keep doing that but like having one day like that is really funny too.

anyway, i didn't do very much today w/ music. feels stupid, like it makes me feel stupid and bad and like guhh like i guess i feel like i have to be writing riffs like have have have to. but maybe i should rest a bit on that. think about what i want from grind and pv riffs... what i wanna play. what's something that feels and sounds good? it's hard to figure that out when my gf is home all day. also hard to figure out when guitar rig crashes ableton sometimes. and then not other times. !!!!!!!!!!!!

anyway, today was not a bad day or anything, i called my work about my check, and they said last time, they mailed it to my address which is my parent's place, so like i called them, they were all we didn't get it, i was like okay, i need to call my job again to get them to mail it again. i called them, they said oh we have it here. i was like why!! they were like well we got paid and that's where tha checks go. and then my ex boss said if i want it mailed it's just going to take longer and like why did you tell me it was being mailed to me????!!! so whatever. i walked over because it was a little rainy and weird today, the cloudcover was really not the best but i brought my umbrella cuz it was raining sometimes / sometimes not, so it helped me not feel like death, obv i was sweating the whole way there cuz it's crazy hot out here in vegas + humid cuz of the rain but the humidity is kind of nice, i don't mind sweating a lot it feels kind of good for you and humidity keeps your skin moist in a way so i like that also. it's not like your insides are being evaporated out of you by the sun. instead the world is a pool you're always trying to get out of but failing.

i got my check, as usual the people there were oh so confused by me dressed how i normally dress and a little put off or something like there's some kinda crisis and they don't know who i am or how i know my boss' name. what ever!! i never have to see them again. it's not even everyone, i have no hate for all the people there just the fucking management. why would they jerk me around like that??? it feels intentional, such scummy shit.

also, i didn't take pics but i think my outfit today was cute and i think i looked kyute too. i am happy about feeling good about myself.

anyway, i listened to this record today, this is a song off it i'm a little obsessed with, cuz the riffs are so simple but they've got that slide shit i always hear and get envious of cuz it's harder to get right on the stuff i do:

it's good to listen to this stuff though. i wonder if they have any tabs out there.

good they have a tab for this song:

happy to have access to that. it's funny how this song's main riff, to me it sounds more complex but it really is just these 4 chords, one's low but then it's this chromatic move kinda, the kind i'm a fan of where you start in the middle, down a half step, then up a whole step up from that half step, so it's like a half step from where you begin there but it's a little abstracted feeling. i also like how most of the song is just all this disso chord thing into a dead note bit.

their 2 records i've heard are really good.

also, while walking, i got to listen to something i haven't listened to in a while, this record:

as well as a couple others, the compilation of the encyclopedia of american traitors, glad i was reminded of them, i ought to listen to that comp more, lots of interesting riffs and the vocalist really loses his shit when he screams, you can tell he's not really feeling good doing that, he shreds his chords it seems, hopefully he did no permanent damage. anyway the closing track on this ep:

i really like the bit he does about how issues of race, gender, environment, do not distract from class struggle, but are in fact part of class struggle, it really moves me to be honest... how are people regressing from that point!!! this band from years ago got it, these are factors which are part of people's struggle for material security, and part of their exploitation and how they're exploited... idk. it's so strange how a lot of the political stuff in screamo/emoviolence really does feel watered down. you had so many bands talking about hating shitty men, talking about issues of gender, men making some kinda effort, and i know a lot of it was also really annoying breakup stuff, but that's what it seems to mostly be now... or maybe not actually. i do know some of these new bands, especially the grindy ones, do take after the other grindy earlier bands, orchid being so political i suppose helps keep that in their minds.

now i am listening to arab on radar... i got someone to listen to them... that's so crazy to me. he was listening to solo john lennon. now he's listening to arab on radar.

this song really is a masterpiece. i mean this double comp is some of the best music evarr, their whole discog is basically perfect.

anyway... i'm getting sleepy. for some reason i did waste a good chunk of the day looking at that rnc stream to see what anyone would say. basically it's the usual racism/everything else, trump did decide he had to talk about "men playing women's sports", which is crazy to me. i mean not really but it's baffling people care so much, they think they see it everywhere. i do wonder, somewhat often these days, if people are gonna get more bold about hating anyone who is not cis.

obviously though, the big deal is racism, these are the things the reactionaries seem to be focusing on, tales of murdered women and foreigners. hideous ways to frame this information. anyway it's best to not dwell, another take away is how hollow and pathetic that whole thing was, how sad it is, also these photos are insane to me:

there's more but this one's like got everything going on. her face, her earring is crazy, why is it like a safety pin, why is she kind of trying to be punk rock. is that what punk rock is. i mean obv not. but it's really funny.

anyway like i sad: sleepayy so i should just go now, before i go to bed at 3 am again. we're going to my gf's friend's birthday @ korean bbq tomorrow. i am excited for that, though i do not want to overeat. though it's not like i really ever do, it seems like. the worst i ever feel is bloated from salty food. not like... heavy with too much food. just kind of gross at times. i am looking forward to that, though last time her friends saw me i was wearing a one piece swimsuit and i guess they're all like, now unsure of what pronouns to use, or one is, i don't really ever like saying what anyone should call me, if he asks idk what i'll say. though i guess at this point i sometimes feel like saying "everything's okay" is maybe, it's like only half true, like it basically is, but idk, there's times where people use he with me and it doesn't feel good. sort of like they say it in a panic, to make sure i really am or something. and then because i'm... well floaty's not the right word because i am entirely feminine, in how i present myself, even if i am androgynous generally i do think it's heavily feminine, so it's not like loose in that way, it's just like, i'm whatever, but whatever in a funny way. i am just my self!! i don't want to ever be made to feel like i am anything in particular..

with that ,, , ,

byebye!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[olokosomolo]

@alexanderishereforyou Help is always a good thing to do really even if it's only intentions the vibe of help always helps 😉. So again thanks but my stomach has its own rule and it can't wait for all the beautiful people that never bother even to write W and many much thanks to the one that bothers to right I'm here to help. It's a little light from the horizon. I already managed to shop lift (only necessary things) bread, cream cheese, 2-banana 1 orange 🍊 beef teriyaki came to the register and look at the guy and told him: sir I collected all those as a necessity to my well-being. Then I took my Israeli passport and told him here that my Israeli passport I'll give it to you as a pound until tomorrow if I won't come you can easily sell it to a hostile entity that will buy it from your top price. Oh he said and what do you think the hostile entity will do then? I thought and then said I think they will enter to visit Israel. No he quickly fixed my thoughts and said, they might HARM YOUR OWN FAMILY. I looked up at the ceiling and said: so let me help them and write for them some addresses so they won't get lost looking for them. I'll add their mobile # maybe even meet them somewhere, unfortunately I have no clue what my brother's phone is #, but you can call Mom and ask to talk to him. If he won't be around, just leave a message that you left for him in one of the corners of your circle room a flawless one carat diamond for his wife. I know he will come to the circle room to look for the corner. Ok if you tried to be funny then you failed miserably he then said it's ,$17.65 don't forget to come tomorrow and I'm not a pound shop take the damn passport with you. Ok see you i said, TOMORROW he continues, yes see you i end. mf. He pooled out his teeth and l laughed.

If you really want to help me I need to buy a 9m and shoot a house that broke his leg I don't know why they shoot horses with broken legs. They easily cover his legs with plaster. Sometimes I can't understand why they shoot those horses but hey they said bring. So yeah I need $900 for that. ( That was a joke) I need to have a roof over my head it's important and it's ok if you can send me $400 for a few days until I start to work.

And after the short event this afternoon, I had been left still with no money, tired and hungry. I found myself here at Popeyes and now I enjoy the symphony of the fries I wish I could bite a Popeyes. Can someone help my stomach and loan me $20 so I could eat ?

[toomuchdickfort]

[Ava Belpheobe never lived a very adventurous life. Not when you factored in people going on quests and traveling planes and universes and hunting for something over the continents… no, she took her tutoring and the job at her father’s shop and found adventure in that enough. More than enough, some days.

When miss Rei-Kenn came in to get a dagger enchanted, it gave her a restlessness she’d not felt in years. And something about the way the woman carried herself, or the familiar way she smiled, or…

…something made Ava wonder if, maybe, she could have turned out like that. All tanned skin and scars and calloused hands and knowing winks and the air of someone who’s got stories to share.

When she left, Ava couldn’t help but feel a little… less, somehow. Not like she was any less than before, but… like she’d given up on something.

Fortunately, the feeling didn’t linger.

Miss Belpheobe finds enough adventure in her own life, after all. In diving into books lent to her for a new spell, or following a cat halfway out of town just to see where it goes, or sitting on her neighbor’s counter as he goes on about some customer or another. She’s happy.

She doesn’t know what compels her, then, when miss Rei-Kenn returns, to take her by the hand. To ask her to bring Ava with her, on… just one adventure. Just one would be more than enough for her, she knows it.

But she never gets to ask.

For an instant, as their hands meet, she feels… so much. Everything. Anything. The hum of the universe is like an orchestra, in chorus with itself a dozen times over. It’s overwhelming, and it’s beautiful, and…

…and she’s something else, after it.]

@highladysith @becnw @french-fry-0 @mauchi--mochi @bittersweet-and-verygay @king-bubble @softichill

[teddi-too]

Shadow x Female Reader (NSFW)

CW: NSFW, AFAB Female Reader

Jumping in to writing some original content a bit more, hope you enjoy!

Another long day at the office done, you return home to your empty apartment and flip on the tall floor lamp in the living room.

“Hello, no one, I’m home.” You called to the emptiness. You sigh and remove your shoes and head to your bedroom to change out of your work attire. It was Friday evening and you got paid today so you opted for takeout tonight. Once your favorite meal arrived, you settled onto the couch and dove into your favorite show.

Your Friday nights used to be much more exciting. Evenings out with friends, flirting at the bars, dancing and sweating with handsome strangers. At one point all of your close friends and you were inseparable but one by one they found someone and paired off. Now you were the lone single friend and your Friday nights looked like this.

Sometimes they invited you over for game nights but you were always acutely aware that your presence made the teams uneven and you could only be scorekeeper so many times. So, alone it was.

Dating? You’ve tried it so many times. If one more of your married friends asks you if you’ve tried online dating, you might actually audibly scream. You’ve had no luck clicking with someone. So, you figured, alone might just be your thing whether you like it or not.

Companionship was a thing you could try to numb yourself to through TV dinners and binge watching tv but you had other needs too.

You knew exactly how to pleasure yourself, all your spots to make you writhe and finish. In fact, you had almost become too efficient at it and it just wasn’t the same anymore. You longed for the touch of another. For someone else to be giving you and adding to your own pleasure.

Later, you lay in bed, half heartedly palming your sensitive parts. You sighed, looking up at the ceiling. Moving your eyes around your room before settling them onto the dark corner opposite your bed. As you stared into the dense blackness, you almost thought you could see movement.

The more intensely you stared, the more you were certain you could see discernible features in the shadow.

“Hmmm,” you whined as you dipped your fingers between your slick folds. “Maybe that’s what I need. A ghost? Something I can conjure?” You spoke out loud towards the shadow. You let your imagination run wild at the thought. An otherworldly creature appearing solely to pleasure you.

“I am not a ghost. But I think I could be of assistance.” A voice low, like old creaking wood filled the room. Your heart stopped for a moment then beat so intensely you felt white hot. You froze. The room seemed to suddenly feel full as if you were not alone.

“H-hello?” You managed to squeak out in a voice that was even smaller than you intended. Your back felt damp with sweat against your sheets.

The features of your room were obscured as an opaque black sheet moved over your field of vision. You would think you had absolutely lost your mind except that this...shadow...seemed to have weight to it. You could feel it passing over your feet, then your calves, soon your entire body felt like it was being touched, held.

The touch wasn’t frightening somehow. It was the first time in so long that you felt the beautiful weight of another being on top of your body—even if this being wasn’t human or even solid, it was still comforting.

“What are you? Are you real?” You whispered dryly.

A ripple of cool energy passed over your body.

“Can’t you feel that I am real?” The voice rumbled back. You nodded, unsure of if it could see you or just hear you. “I believe humans refer to us as shadow people. Though our real name can not be comprehended by your kind.”

“Shadows are...alive?” You tried to take everything in. You shivered as your slick cooled on your skin as your attention had been turned away to the situation in front of you. A chuckle emerged from the darkness.

“No, no. We are beings separate from shadows and yet we can hide and move through the shadows of your world. Shadows cannot touch you, I can.” A pulse of cool energy passed over your soft stomach and ghosted lightly over your core. Heat immediately pooled in your abdomen.

Despite all the logic your mind was trying to throw at you to tell you this wasn’t real and wasn’t happening, the aching in your body overpowered. You decided to allow yourself to submit to the situation at hand.

“You can really...do things to me? I mean, do you...want to?” You fell over your words as your heartbeat raced in your chest. An insecure thought popped into your head, me? Really?

“Oh yes, I want you badly. I’ve observed you for quite some time.” The voice creaked and sounded fuller than before, almost lustful. You felt your cheeks flush as you thought about all the times you had pleasured yourself never thinking twice about another presence in the room.

“I….want this too…” you shifted your weight to open up your body a bit more, unsure what this shadow might have in mind.

“I can and want to do so many things to you. Who do you want?” It breathed over you.

“W-what?” You breathlessly reply, trying to steady yourself to listen to its question.

“Hmm, have you ever noticed when you look for too long into a shadowy room you can sometimes see a face in the darkness?” You nodded. “Who do you want me to be? I can make myself look like anyone...anything” the deep voice cracked through the static feeling of the air. You thought just for a moment, a few faces from your past flashed through your mind.

“No one.” You finally answered. The shadow swirled over you, a concentrated feeling cupping your face almost like caring hands reaching to support you.

“No one?” The shadow repeated back. You sighed.

“There’ll be no one in the morning, so there should be no one now.” You hoped you had hidden the tired sadness in your voice. The energy over your body shuddered and receded slightly. Tears stung at the corners of your eyes. “Please, I-“ you moved your hands down your torso, tracing your soft skin, reaching towards your sensitive spot that was begging for the pressure to return.

You halted your movement when a tendril of energy pressed across your lips. The sensation was warm and somehow wet like the tongue of a lover asking for entrance. Your mouth fell open without thought.

“I wish you could understand how beautiful you are.” The voice rumbled and the shadow engulfed your mouth in a kiss. That’s the only way you could describe it. No discernible mouth or tongue or chin, just darkness but you could feel it all. You returned the kiss with equal passion and the warmth that was pooling in your core previously started to unravel you again.

As you continued your deep passionate kiss, a dreamy light pressure settled on your breasts, making your nipples harden and your back arch just slightly. You let out a soft moan assuring the shadow that it was touching you perfectly. As the shadow massaged your breasts, teasing and pulling your nipples, you slowly rolled your hips hoping to feel more pressure down there.

You were so wet the movement of your hips caused a cool drop of slick to rub on to your inner thigh. You clenched your thighs together, squeezing your sensitive area and giving you some much needed relief. You broke the kiss, gasping for air and reached out into the darkness. Your hands were enveloped in a now familiar cool, tingling pressure.

“I need you...there-uuungh” your plea was interrupted by your own whine of pleasure as the “tongue” you felt earlier on your lips began to glide over your slit. You shook out the disruptive thoughts in your head that were trying to figure out how the hell something incorporeal could give you this intense physical pleasure and tried to let yourself just enjoy what was happening.

The shadowy tendril pressed into your folds and moved upwards from your entrance to your pearl achingly slow. It repeated the movement, wide, equal pressure a few more times before settling over your most sensitive spot. The tendril moved around the bundle of nerves with such incredible deftness, you could already feel an orgasm building. You whined and moved your hips simultaneously wanting more and not knowing how much more you could handle.

Without losing any pressure on your bud, you felt something hard resting against your entrance. Energy danced along your entire body, it was almost as if the shadow was as excited for this part as you were. What felt nearly like a hand grazed longingly across your cheek, as if it sought permission for this next development.

You nodded your head wildly and let out a loud moan. You were already starting to feel over stimulated between the “hands” still teasing your breasts and the “tongue” on your clit. You were fairly certain all it would take is the shadow pushing into your entrance to make you come. Still, you needed it. Needed it inside you. Your dripping entrance needed to be filled and full like every other part of you felt just now.

The shadow seemed to hesitate, seated at your entrance. You pushed your hips down, pushing the shadow just barely inside you, ghosting your inner walls. Your jaw tightened as you tried to relax your body. The shadow finally pushed into you and it created a sensation that was hard to describe. It felt like a cock pushing into you except that the size seemed to change when it was inside you. It moved in to you and felt big at your entrance but not painfully so. Once inside of you, it seemed to grow to fill you perfectly, like it was made to fit inside of you and only you.

The shadow pressed inside of you slowly and finally stopped. You instinctively pushed your thighs out on either side of you to open yourself up as much as possible. The feeling inside you was perfect though you did feel a bit exposed. You missed feeling the weight of someone’s body pressed firmly against your pelvis.

“Shadow…I want to feel you against me….is that...can you?” You tripped over your words. Shadow was giving you every sensation you could dream of but you still ached for the feeling of another body against you. You felt the pressure that was playing at your breast dissipate and a feeling of fullness, of weight settled against your hips. Suddenly the immense “cock” within you felt as if it were connected to a body.

“Like this?” The shadow asked, you swear the voice sounded bashful. A breathy moan was all you could manage as you shifted your hips to feel the weight against you once more. With that, shadow began to move its “hips” in and out of you. The size of the appendage changed to keep you stunningly full all the time while still giving you the sensations of movement you needed.

Your orgasm was building again and you knew you couldn't stave it off and prolong these sensations any longer if you tried. Every nerve ending in your body was screaming with pleasure and your body was heating up white hot. Shadow snapped its hips into you deeply once again and a scream tore through your throat. Your orgasm crashed against you, your walls spasming, your back lifting off the bed.

Shadow never stopped its movements as it did everything it could to your body to help you ride the sensation out as long as possible. As you were beginning to catch your breath, you ground your hips down on to the mass inside you hoping to return the wonderful sensation you’d been given, unsure if the shadow could even experience something like an orgasm.

The energy all over and in your body flickered and receded for a flash before expanding even larger and making your body tingle all over. It felt electric and strong and you forgot to breath for a moment as you let the static wash over your body.

Then the feeling receded completely and you were left lying on the bed alone, covered in your sweat and slick, panting. It would maybe feel lonely on a different night but you felt so completely fulfilled you couldn’t help but smile.

“Does that mean it was good for you, too?” You called out to the empty room. Movement caught the corner of your eye and you stared into a corner of your room where the darkness looked particularly dense. A low, gravely chuckle filled the room and moved over your skin.

“You know, that was the first time I-with a human...I mean, I could do better next time.” The voice responded. You pushed yourself up to sit on the bed.

“Better than that?” You asked.

“Oh yes.” Your core tightened just at the thought. It was the first time in so long that you didn’t feel lonely. In fact, you felt excited about the possibilities your connection with this shadow presented.

“You’ll come back again?” You asked with a tinge of hopeful uncertainty in your voice. The room darkened, filling up with the intense shadow.

“As often as you’ll have me, beautiful human.”

[finelinevogue]

Just wanted to say 2 things:

1)Love the fic where he proposed over a cup of tea…so sweet💗

2) we all know how H has asthma sometimes so…could u write something w/the reader helping him with an attack idk or during an interview/concert/family gathering do as u pls

A nice day

XOXO

firstly, thank you so much that’s so sweet of you <33 and secondly, um yes i would love to give this a go at writing for you! hope you enjoy;

Harry couldn’t breathe.

He was in a panic, completely terrified of the uncontrollable situation. He was having an asthma attack concocted with a panic attack and it was brutal.

“Shit,” Jeff whispered as he watched Harry breathe heavily and loudly on the floor. His friend was currently on his hands and knees trying to gasp for air, whilst dressed in his notorious Fine Line outfit.

It was the big night. The one night only at The Forum for the release of his new album Fine Line, hence the costume. He had been nervous all day, with shaking hands and a tendency to forget simple things. You had been with him all day; having a slow brunch together out in the Hollywood Hills and then just chilling around for the afternoon. You didn’t want to anything to strain his voice, so talking hadn’t been an option. That left you either to sleeping and cuddling, whilst watching a movie, or sex. Now you were all for sex, but Harry complained that he liked talking to you during it and so that got shut down pretty quickly. You didn’t forget what he whispered to your ear though just before you cuddled into watching Bambi;

“Keep your moans for later, you’ll be fucking needing them for what I have planned.”

But that was over two hours ago now. Harry had been whisked away to start getting ready, what with hair and makeup first. You’d left him to it, telling him you would just lounge around and wait for him. It was when he was getting into costume had you announced you were just going to go down the street to get some coffee from Dunkin’ - seeing as there were few of them back in England, where you most commonly lived with Harry. The problem was you hadn’t come back yet, and it was an hour later.

“Harry mate, you need to calm down.” Kid Harpoon told him carefully, kneeling down next to his good friend. Nothing was working though and Harry was too breathless to ask anyone for his inhaler.

It had started by thinking about how nervous he actually was for tonight. It was such a huge show and one of a kind too. He was playing his new album and it wasn’t even 24 hours old yet. There was so much pressure weighing him down that he couldn’t breathe - he was suffocating in the anxiety of his own mind and he couldn’t escape at all. Then because he was in so much of a panic his asthma hit him and added another reason to his breathlessness. It was finally made worst when he realised you weren’t by his side to help him. You weren’t there to quickly eliminate the asthma and focus on helping him overcome the panic attack, instead he had his mates surrounding him - crowding him - and they didn’t know the first thing to do.

“Sarah, where’s Y/N?” Mitch shouted, making Harry squint the thought away. He didn’t want to think about how something back might’ve happened or might be happening to you. Where were you? Sarah’s response did no better to help him.

“I don’t know.”

“Harry bud. Talk to us.” Jeff spoke, crouched down in front of him. Harry shook his head, tears running from his eyes as he began crying. The sobs were really harsh and embarrassing. The tears were heavy and mixed with snot running from his nose to pool on the floor below him. He was not doing well at all, coughing when the asthma choked him up. He couldn’t do this. He felt like he was in a small box and it was only getting smaller. He felt as if he were going to die. Genuinely.

“Does he look like he can talk, dickward.” Adam’s voice came from the other side of Harry, messing his head up even more. There was so many voices and he couldn’t focus on just one, but he didn’t want to. He wanted yours. He needed yours. You.

Whenever this has happened before he was always luckily in the comfort of his home, or the tour bus and always with you. So this was unfamiliar and terrifying. He was beginning to think you’d left him or you’d gotten seriously hurt, but he couldn’t do anything to help. He was stuck - paralysed to this position as his lungs collapsed in on themselves and his brain sped the same speed as a train. You were his comfort person and it was only ever you that he wanted in situations like these. Just you.

“Move out of my way. Move!” Harry thought he heard you and your voice, but he hated that his mind could be playing tricks on him in desperation for what, or whom, he truly wanted.

He felt someone crash on the floor in front of him and the almighty smell of lavender and soap hit him all at once. This time, he was glad to have someone sit so close to him, because it was you.

“Harry look at me, hey, hey. You’re okay. Look at me bubs.” You spoke calmly, trying not to sound panicked yourself, even if you were heavily worried. You watched as he looked up at you, eyes ridiculously red and puffy whilst his nose was dripping like a leaking tap. You wanted to rub his tears away and dab away the snot, but your main priority was on his breathing first. “Okay good, okay.”

Your hand went into your bag and picked out his inhaler. You shook it a few times, before putting it into Harry’s mouth. “On three, one, two, three…” Harry tried is best to breathe in and you pushed down on the canister. “Good, bubs, really good. Okay again, one, two, three…” You repeated and then a third time until you could tell that the wheezing of his asthma attack had disappeared.

“T-than…” Harry tried to mumble out, but couldnt because he was still in panic and his throat was so dry.

“Sshh you’re okay.” You turned to one of the crew members and asked for them to fetch you a bottle of water. You asked people to clear out of the room and leave you with Harry for a bit, knowing he wouldn’t settle in front of all these people. You sat on the floor, crossed legged, and brought Harry to lay his head in your lap with his body trailing behind. You offered him one of your hands to squeeze if he wanted to, which he appreciated, cupping both of his around yours. Your other hand laid to stroke through his gelled hair - that would no doubt have to be redone now.

Instead of going straight into talking to him, you sang his favourite lullaby to him in aid of calming him down. It always worked, or at least helped a little. You sang quietly, noticing the beat of his heart soften with every line you sung. You were by no means a professional singer like him, but he liked the way it was so imperfect and mellow. It calmed him to hear something so simple and so you. Whilst you sang the crew never came back with your requested water and you thanked them, before you were the only ones left in the room.

After you finished singing you noticed how calm Harry was, almost still - the complete opposite to how he’d been all of 10 minutes ago. It was amazing what the power of you could do to him.

“What colour are we feeling?” You and Harry had created your own little system by which you would let each other know how you’re feeling by a colour of the rainbow. You’d designated a meaning to all of them that only you two could understand and used them on the days when you weren’t feeling great, to help understand each other’s feelings better.

“The whole bloody rainbow.” Harry mumbled out and you passed the water around so he could take a few sips, to which he thanked you graciously for.

“Oi, you can’t have that as your answer.” It was a rule that you could only use one colour to some your most intense emotion in that moment, otherwise there was kind of no point to the system.

“But it’s true. I feel grey with confusion, blue with sadness, purple with frustration, yellow with fear and even light yellow with cowardice. Yet I feel pink with happiness and light red with love.”

“What about red red?” You teased, not being able to help yourself.

“What? Lust? Always, for you that is.” You leant down to kiss his head as he cracked a joke, showing you that your Harry was still there beneath all this worry.

“Tell me what the colours represent in real life.”

“Purple because I am frustrated that I had to have a panic attack right before the biggest show of my career. Yellow because I am frightened that nobody will like the album and it will be a complete fail of a night. Grey because I can’t choose one colour and focus on it. I.. I—”

You could tell he getting himself worked up again, so cut him short. “Bubs stop, you’re okay. Listen to me.” You tucked his hair behind his ear as if to open it up for him to hear better. “Don’t ever be frustrated with yourself for something like this. You are allowed to have moments of weakness; you wouldn’t be human if you didn’t. Did this compromise your show? No. Did this show off how strong and brave you are? Yes. That’s what is important, therefore we can swap purple for dark yellow because you were brave. Which means yellow can also turn to dark yellow because you are so brave for doing something so huge and so wonderful. People already love the album H. Can’t get enough of it. Everyone will sing along to every word, I can promise you that. Or at least I will. You are amazing, so never undersell yourself. That’s important to me and for you. Bubs, you are so amazing for what you’re doing here tonight and I couldn’t be prouder of you. Yes, a panic attack isn’t nice and it isn’t convenient, but it just helps show how much you care about tonight and it going a success. That must count for something.”

He didn’t say anything for a bit and that was okay. He was most likely getting his thoughts together and mentally preparing himself for the greatest night of his life. You bent your body over so you could hug him, since his back was to your front, and just give him a squeeze to reiterate how proud you are of him.

“Y/N.” Harry spoke quietly, as your body encased his. You embraced his warmth and inhaled the beautiful scent that he was wearing. He both smelt and looked phenomenal.

“Yes bubs.”

“You know I love you right?” Of course you did, but it still made your heart flutter as crazy as the first time he said it to when he tells you now.

“I do.”

“And you know you’re it for me right?”

“Well.. I—” You didn’t want to get too ahead of yourself.

“Because you are.” Harry turned himself around, making you sit up so he could move. He was lying with his head facing upwards now, face looking less red and puffy, and staring right into the souls of your eyes. He looked magical. Beautiful. He thought the same of you. “And,” he moved his fingers to take off his S ring from Gucci, that probably cost more than your annual salary, and place it onto your ring finger of your right hand, “I give you this as a promise to share my last name with you someday.”

Seeing the initial of his last name sat on the finger opposite to the one he claimed he would one day put two more rings on, brought you to tears. “Harry…” You didn’t know what to say, you were speechless. You had never expected for him to do something as monumental as this and had never experienced it before to know how to react.

Of course you’d always dreamt of marrying him and being his for eternity, but never thought of it possibly becoming your reality. Now, Harry was completely devoting himself to you and only you and it suddenly all felt like the dream was settling in place.

“I swear to you Y/N, i’ll love you until the next lifetime and i’ll find you again. I love you so much, I can’t even tell you how much because it is so infinite. You’re so kind and patient with me and you see me for me, not for the Harry Styles, just Harry. I’ll never let a day pass without you on my mind and I think it’s because you were always meant to be mine. My heart is yours.” He smiled once he noticed you were crying, moving one of his hands up to wipe the tears away.

“How do I top that?” You whispered to him, but mostly to yourself. Both of you laughed.

“Just tell me you love me.”

“I do. I do love you Harry.” You nodded and then he sealed your confirmation with a kiss to his lips. You rested your hand upon his cheek, placing the coolness of the S ring upon his cheekbone, as he placed his hand under your chin to guide you into the kiss. He tasted divine and you smiled knowing that you got to have him like this, taste him like this, for the rest of your beating hearts’ days.

[thefanficmonster]

Oddities

Corpse Husband & Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Fluff, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Having been roommates with Corpse for quite some time now, Y/N’s heard her fair share of oddities coming from his room: horror story narrations, sentences that out of context sound rather questionable, accusations and defenses during Among Us. However she can never say she’s heard him attempt a Russian accent and impersonating a mafia boss. Well, until now.

Requested by @greenprisca Hi darling! Thank you so much for your request, it was a ton of fun to write and I enjoyed every second of it, seeing as how I absolutely adore the idea. Sorry for the long wait you’ve had to endure but, if you happen to read it, I hope you enjoy the fic and hope it makes up for it! Love, Vy ❤

“Play by my rules and I might just reconsider what I’m planning to do to you.“

Ok, hear me out. Being roommates with a horror story narrator has had its golden moments but has also had some serious oddities. However, it’s never gotten as odd as this: A Russian accent - very poor one, I’ll add - and some strongly suggestive phrasing of a threat. That I have never heard before. I can’t guarantee Corpse hasn’t said it, but I can swear on my life I haven’t heard it. But now that I have, I’m not too sure how I feel about it.

Could a Russian mafia boss be Corpse’s alter ego or something? One that only comes out at night when he thinks I’m asleep?

I technically should be asleep, but this scorching heat is laughing at my attempts with all its might. I was twisting and turning in bed like a fish out of water for far too long, leading me to finally loose my cool - not that I had it to begin with - and get myself up off the mattress that seemed like a heater in and of itself. As I was heading towards the kitchen where out apartment has graced us with a small balcony overlooking the neighborhood, I heard that line and I just had to stop in my tracks and comprehend it. Sure, it’s been weirder with Corpse voicing lines from immense creeps who viewed the people submitting those stories as their prey, but this still sits as the biggest oddity to me. I think it’s the accent. That or the thought that whoever’s submitted this story had a run-in with a Russian mafia boss.

Now THAT is a story.

But then again it could be my first guess - Corpse’s alter ego that I’d rather not mess with.

However, Y/N does and Y/N is and let me tell you, she sometimes does shit that she knows could be risky. Apart from speaking in third person all of a sudden, she also needs a distraction and a stress-reliever before she could go anywhere near a bed or even think about sleep.

Ok, she’ll stop talking in the third person now and go check the situation out, try and figure out what the hell is going on.

I approach Corpse’s recording room, from where dim light is pooling out into the hallway through the crack created between the not fully closed door and door frame. It’s an open invitation to peek inside like a spy, or just barge in and scare the crap out of him, but I still choose to be civil and knock instead. I hear a quiet yelp coming from inside, meaning I scared him regardless of my efforts, before I’m permitted entrance.

“Hey Y/N, why aren’t you asleep?“ Corpse’s face is red, beat red, so much so even the dim lighting doesn’t do him the favor of hiding it.

Aka, the face of someone doing shady shit getting caught red-handed.

“I don’t know, maybe cause it’s a thousand degrees outside.“ I roll my eyes, putting my hands on my hips as I evaluate the situation and the surroundings, trying to gauge during what I interrupted him.

A game of Among Us is going on his screen, little astronauts running around while his hovers above in a ghostly form suggesting he’s been either killed or ejected. Huh, so he’s been occupying himself in other ways.

And then I spot the rows and rows of text on his phone screen a literal second before he locks it.

“W-well, summer’s starting early this year. It’s gonna be a brutal one.“ He chuckles nervously, a hand coming up to clamp around the back of his neck awkwardly.

I raise an eyebrow at him, a particularly suspicious eyebrow that’s meant to say ‘Seriously, my dude? Really?’

“Thank, weather boy.“ I roll my eyes, giving him a once-over like a mother greeting her son who’s come home past curfew, “Either way, mind some company?“

I don’t wait for a reply before wheeling over the second desk chair in the room and planting my butt on it, marking my territory pretty obviously as if to say he cannot chase me out. He can, of course, these are his quarters after all, but he doesn’t appear to want to do that which is a relief seeing as how I have nothing else to do and this room has a perfect air conditioner and entertainment.

“Actually, no, your presence is quite neat.“ His eyebrows shoot up while mine droop down in a confused frown. “I need you to read me the role of Your Name in these fanfics I found. Can you do that for me?“

The screen of his phone lights up again but this time he turns it towards me allowing me to also see the Tumblr logo above the text he’s been reading.

Oh, this is gonna be hella interesting

“Of course!“ I say, grinning widely as I roll my chair over next to his so we both have proper sight of the phone. “Wait, I heard you doing a Russian accent. The fuck is up with that? If this gets kinky, I’m out of here.“ I raise my pointer at him to put extra emphasis on my warning, along with a narrow-eyed glare for good measure.

Corpse wheezes, covering his mouth with his hand, “I hope it doesn’t. No guarantees how far they’ll take it after making me a Russian mafia boss.“

I knew that’s what the voice was! Damn, spot fucking on!

I roll my eyes, “At least my Russian accent is better than yours.” I take hold of his wrist and tilt the phone so I can see the text better, “Your Name follows Corpse up the stairs from his wine basement to the dining room where she finds a large dining table set up with all kinds of foods. It’s a colorful display of delight and bliss that her pride is telling her not to be tempted by while her stomach growls, telling her the opposite.”

Corpse tilts the phone back towards himself, reading his line, “’I made this all myself, hope you appreciate my efforts.’” Corpse breaks out of character for a moment, “I’ve noticed a running theme in all these fics: they all think I’m a great cook.“

I immediately interfere, “Wait, what?! Yo, this mother trucker can barely make scrambled eggs and heat up a frozen meal without exploding our kitchen, and y’all think he cooks the course meals? If you’re just trolling me so you don’t have to cook for me, that seriously ain’t cool.“

He bursts out laughing, “And that I’m organized. That my ass is freaking organized.”

“Bro I almost tripped on a hoodie of his on the floor on my way in, what you mean he’s organized?!“ I stare at the screen in disbelief, “You have a double life or are you trying to get me to move out?“

Corpse is still laughing his ass off when I snatch the phone from him so I can look through the rest of the fic he’s reading.

When he manages to get the wheezes and giggles under control he clears his throat, “You heard it here first, folks. I should title this stream ‘My Roommate Fact-Checks My Fanfics‘”

Wait...

“Wait...you’re streaming?!“

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[fallensimeon]

Take Me For A Ride (NSFW 18+)

A spicy F!MC x Mammon smut mixed with a little angst and fluff, my first time trying out writing! Don’t judge too harshly, I tried my best y’know!

Topic warnings: F!MC, angst, smut, fluff, intercourse, car sex, fellatio, rough play (nearly BDSM-ish), biting, blood, curse words, yelling, dirty talking. Read at your own risk! 

Words: 5,419

Y/N has enough of the brothers attacking Mammon, and comforts him when he needs her the most. One thing leads to another, and, well... let’s just say they go for the ride of a lifetime.

18+! MINORS, PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT!

If you like my work, please feel free to like, comment, follow, share, or REBLOG. Thank you for taking the time to read my first piece!

It was a gloomy day down in the Devildom, just one of those days where tensions were high in the House of Lamentation. You were in your room, having just completed your homework so you began studying for a test coming up in the next few days. You had a good feeling you were going to ace it, so you began to organize your books and papers and stash them away in your bag.

You were tired. You had felt overworked as of late, always having work to do, or having one of the brothers drag you into one of their troubles as usual. But today? Nobody had reached out. Everyone had seemed so distant from one another. That wasn’t normal, it was always loud in the house no matter where you went. The fact that it was so quiet for once was shocking.

You finished packing up your school supplies and leaned your backpack against your desk in your room. You just wanted to relax, so you decided to ease your chest and arms comfortably onto your desk and scroll through Devilgram for a while. Looking through the brothers’ profiles always put a smile on your face, because they sometimes posted the most hilarious pictures. However, you found yourself on Mammon’s profile for the longest. 

He was a model, of course he was stunning. Perfectly-tanned skin, luscious snow white locks gracing his head, the most beautiful blue eyes that almost glowed gold. You could never tell him how you really felt, he would just push you away. Plus, there was probably some model out there who was after him already anyways. Why would Mammon want to be with some weak human?

You jumped slightly as a text notification popped up on your screen.

“Dinner is ready, please make your way to the dining hall. You wouldn’t want Beel to get to your plate first,” Lucifer sent. You chuckled and began to make your way down to have dinner. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be as awkward as it was earlier that day.

You make it down to the dining hall, not a single of the brothers making eye contact with you. You froze in your tracks. You can’t lie, that hurt a little bit, you figured at least one of them might greet you.

♡

“Good to see you, Y/N. Come, take a seat. I know you have been working hard up there, you need to eat well,” Lucifer stated, a slight smile on his face. He was glad that at least one of you was focused on your studies that day.

You smiled, finally someone broke the awkward silence. “Thank you Lucifer.”

You made your way around the long table to find an open seat. Your heart fluttered as you walked your way past Mammon, smelling the arousing scent of his cologne waft past your face. You smiled and let out a low but happy sigh, and he looked up for just a second having heard you, a light blush on his face. “Y’know I don’t bite, you can come sit next to me human,” Mammon said lightly, making eye contact with you for the first time that day.

You felt a shudder run down your spine. His voice is so alluring, you could listen to it all day every day. A blush forms on your cheeks as you take a seat next to him.

Everyone around you is surprisingly in their own conversations with one another, which is pretty odd after earlier. Although, you were happy to hear the voices of all of your favorite people around the room. You couldn’t dare to complain, it was nice seeing everyone let go of the awkward tension that had previously filled the House of Lamentation. This, however, was short-lived.

You were almost done with your dinner, only a few forkfuls left, when you heard an argument start. “Oh great, here we go again,” you thought to yourself as you looked up to see Lucifer standing up behind Mammon. You didn’t have a good feeling about this.

“You worthless scumbag, what did you do with my new Ruri-chan figure?!” Levi yelled, close enough to Mammon’s face to spit on him whilst speaking.

“My new perfume went missing too, I bet it had something to do with that idiot,” Asmo shouted across the table at him, a sour glare on his face.

“Come to think of it, my new mystery novel went missing last night, I was going to read it but I couldn’t find it,” Satan added to the fire.

The twins began to spew on about how much of a moron Mammon was, him having done nothing to either of them. Lucifer began to holler at Mammon about every little thing he finds wrong when you realize that was the last straw. You weren’t going to sit there and let everyone torment the demon that meant most to you. You looked over at Mammon, trembling in his seat, trying to hold back tears as his brothers kept pushing him further and further over the edge. He looked like he could break at any second. You know for a fact he didn’t take anyone’s things, he was with you all day yesterday. It couldn’t have been him.

“KNOCK IT OFF, ALL OF YOU! BACK OFF! I THINK HE’S HAD ENOUGH ALREADY!” you shouted at the top of your lungs. The boys all froze in shock and fear, never expecting that out of you. Tears began to stream down your face. You never thought you would see the day that you would have to break up an argument, especially when the only people Mammon trusted were his brothers. Seeing them all treat him like shit made you angry  and upset.

“Y/N...” Lucifer sighed and began to speak, but you weren’t going to give him the chance to continue.

“C’mon Mammon, you don’t deserve this, let’s get out of here,” you gently took hold of Mammon’s hand and dragged him away from the table towards his bedroom. The dining hall fell completely silent once again.

♡

You make it all the way to Mammon’s bedroom door when he stops you in your tracks, pulling your arm back towards him lightly. You turn around to see his cheeks burning red, the tears that formed earlier finally starting to come down his face. He looked somewhat relieved, somewhat embarrassed at the same time. He just barely lifted his head to look you in the eyes.

“You didn’t have to go and do that for me human, ya know I can’t handle m’self, right? I-I just needed to think of what t’say...” he said softly, not enough confidence in his voice for you to believe it for a second.

He was shaking, more so than when he usually gets yelled at. You gently let go of his hand and lifted your hand to cup his right cheek, brushing away his tears with your thumb. He felt so warm.

“Mammoney, I wasn’t just going to sit there and let them stomp all over you like that. They have NO evidence to prove that you took anything from them, but they kept going anyway. I’m so sick of their bullshit, watch them find all of their things that they misplaced themselves. I hope they hate themselves for treating you like that.” You loosened your hand from his cheek and tucked your body against his, arms wrapped around his warm shoulders, bringing him in for a cozy embrace.

This broke him. He leaned into your embrace, the tears streaming down his face as he sobbed into the crook of your neck. The two of you stood in a hug for at least 2 minutes straight, neither of you daring to break away. It just felt so nice, you never wanted to let go.

“Th-thank you Y/N, I’m glad you trust me enough t’know I wouldn’t steal their boring stuff. Why would I need Asmo’s perfume, let alone Satan’s book? Y’know, I-I wonder if they think before they point f-fingers like that. C’mon human, let’s get inside, I just w-wanna relax.” Mammon explains with the slightest blushy grin on his face. He opens the door to let you in first, and closes it behind him.

You had never been in Mammon’s room before, he’s never let you in before now. Your eyes scanned around the room, in awe of how cozy it was. His plush leather sofa and a mahogany wood pool table beside it, bottles of alcohol and a few grimm strewn across it. He has a projector rather than a television, two speakers beside the coffee table below it. He has an open concept closet, adorned with studio lights, and his bed pressed flush on the other side of the wall. His room has two floors, the only things up there being his entryway door... and a car? How did he get this in here? What kind of car was it? How interesting. Rather than walking down the stairs as Mammon was expecting you to do, you made your way towards his car and leaned against the hood.

“Is this your car? It’s so amazing! I can’t imagine how much money you must have put into this beauty,” you exclaimed, being somewhat an admirer of cars, having been raised by your father who’s life revolves around them. You grazed your hand over the headlights and the grill along the front, a glint in your eyes from the spotlights shining down on you and the car.

Mammon was standing next to the door, choked up to say the very least. He was blushing furiously, gripping into his lush white hair with his hand, head tilted down and giggling. “Y’mean my Demonia? It’s nothing really, Lucifer helped me get it a while back once I got my license. Pretty cool right? Of course the Great Mammon is cool!” he chuckled, barely able to keep eye contact with you. The truth was, the car meant a lot to him and it did cost a lot, but he couldn’t focus on that right now. He was too busy staring you down, lights glistening against your soft skin, looking oh-so-hot leaned up against his car like that. Little did you know you were his treasure, he admired you every second he got, whether you realized it or not. He began to walk over to you, leaning next to you on the hood, resting his hand softly against yours, interlocking fingers with you.

Needless to say, you were surprised. You jumped slightly at his touch, hesitant to move. You returned the favor regardless, locking your fingers between his, the warmth of his body flushing through your veins, instantly calming you. He means everything to you, and now this? How can you not tell him how you feel now? This was the best opportunity you could get your hands on. You let go of his hand and made your way off of the hood of the car, locked his bedroom door, dimmed his lights slightly, and made your way back over to him. You inched closer to him, barely hugging distance away.

He was looking up at you softly, still blushing. He was shaking a little bit, but you were too, of course. Now was your chance. It was now or never. Either you tell him how you feel now, or hold it in and never find out if your feelings are reciprocated. Your heart was ready to burst out of your chest, but you couldn’t hold back any longer.

♡

“Mammon, you know I care about you... more than myself sometimes, if I’m being honest. Any time I see you enter the room or my eyes meet up with you, I get tons of butterflies inside. You make me feel like I’m not just some useless human that nobody likes. You make me feel special, and I just want you to know that... I love you. I’m in love with you...” you paused, too nervous to continue.

Mammon.exe has stopped working. You... love HIM? The moron, the idiot, the scumbag? You deserve better, but he can’t deny how he really feels. His brothers aren’t anywhere around, so now’s his chance.

“I-human I... I love you too. Y’mean everything to me. I can’t stand seeing my brothers eyeing you up and taking all of my time with ya away from me. You’re MY human... my... my treasure. You deserve better than me, I’m just some lousy good-for-nothi-” he couldn’t speak anymore. You held him by his cheeks and pulled his face to yours, kissing him on his lips. The first tender moment shared between the two of you, your first kiss. He sits still for a moment before realizing what’s happening, leaning into your kiss and holding you by your waist. Your chests graze against one another as the kiss turns more passionate. Mammon slides his tongue against your lips asking for permission before you slide your tongue in between his. You felt higher than a kite at that moment, the butterflies seemingly flying out through the top of your head.

Before long, you were straddling his lap on the hood of his car, breathing into his neck as he planted kisses along your collarbone, nibbling at you and caressing your lower back. You both pulled away from each other to look into each others’ eyes.

“So this is really happening huh?” you blush and look down, feeling a tad bit shy. Mammon brings his hand up to your cheek, some of his fingers lacing into your hair. “We don’t have to do anything ya don’t wanna do, but first...” he places his hands lovingly on your hips and looks into your eyes. “I want you to be mine and only mine, ya hear? No mackin’ on my brothers or anythin’... you’re MY treasure. Well, if you’ll let me have ya...” he starts blushing too, barely able to keep his eyes on you. The words you have been waiting to hear, that you’re HIS and only his... it makes you melt. You hold onto his hips, and lean in to whisper into his ear. “Of course I’m yours, and only yours. You can have all of me if you want it, and I mean ALL of me...” you whisper and nibble on his earlobe, a smirk forming across your face.

He can’t hold back anymore. He slams his mouth against yours in the most passionate kiss, moaning against your lips and pulling you in closer, pressing you against his chest. His hands start to slip under your shirt, making their way up your bare back until he reaches about midway. He looks at you as if he’s asking permission, to which you respond by grazing your hands over his upper thighs. You lean in once again to whisper sensually, “So have you ever done it in your car?”

♡

His excitement cannot be contained, his body heats up hotter as the bulge in his pants grows harder. Without another word, Mammon scoots off of the car, grabbing you underneath your thighs and carrying you into the backseat of his car, placing you gently while he pushes the seats back and reclining them back further. The open space has grown larger. He climbs his way into the car and shuts the door behind him, hovering over you.

He doesn’t waste any time before he starts to undress you. He slips your uniform jacket off followed by your tank top, revealing your black lace bralette. You whisper in his ear “You like that? I bet you’ll like it more when you see the panties I have to match.”

You set off a fire in his chest, a low growl seeping out from his throat. He sheds his uniform jacket and tears off his undershirt, a huge ripping noise emerging, making you increasingly wet as the tension increases. His bare chest is a glorious sight to behold... so sexy and strong, so protective.

He pushes you back against the seat and makes room to slide off your uniform pants, whilst you slide your shoes off and kick them into the passenger seat beside you. He makes his way down to your feet, carefully sliding off your socks which he notices have a grimm pattern on them, and slyly smirks. His eyes scan your exposed skin from your head to your toes and back up, revving him up even more.

♡

He begins to kiss you from your feet, up your calves and your thighs, until he reaches your inner thighs. Your black lace panties meet his face, becoming more and more flushed. He slides his hands up to the waistband and toys with the lace, planting his face against the fabric. That smell... the smell of arousal... it’s so strong. He could only imagine how wet you are for him. He looks up at you and you nod, giving permission to continue.

Mammon growls and grabs your waistband with his teeth, the sound of tearing lace floods the car. You moan in response, wishing you could hear him like this all the time. Your hands reach down to your now exposed heat and stroke the lips, shining from how slick he made you. Mammon’s eyes start shining, staring down as if he’s a predator who’s just hunted down his prey. He licks his lips and flashes his teeth, slight fangs showing. You spread your lips for him and make your legs more comfortable, inviting him to take a taste.

“Mn... you’re so perfect Y/N, so wet for me, I can almost taste it,” he leans down and begins lapping his tongue at your clit. Shudders run up and down your spine from the senastion, bringing out a sensual moan from your chest, back arching. Mammon grips onto your thighs and holds them open. He drags his tongue up and down your opening, sliding it inside of you. He moans into you, admiring how you taste, your flavor. He makes his way back up to your clit, the tip of his tongue dancing around it. He looks up and you and smirks, sliding two fingers inside of you, pulsing them in and out at a steady pace, curling his fingertips from time to time. You can’t help but let out a moan, never having felt so stimulated and so turned-on before.

“M-Mammon... p-p-please... k-keep going b-baby...” you moaned out as he brought you closer and closer to your orgasm. Did you just call him your baby? Oh, he heard that. He wants to hear it again. He pulses his fingers inside you faster and faster, sucking on your clit, giving you no mercy. The heat inside of you is unbearable. You begin to buck your hips against his face and grab him by the hair, pushing him against your heat, your other hand gripping tightly against the leather seat below you,

It was taking everything Mammon had to not whip himself out and slam himself into you, but he had to make himself more comfortable. As he continued, he used his left hand to undo his pants, releasing his bulge hidden by his boxers. He was only getting harder as you moaned his name again and again.

“I’m... I’m gonna.. gaaaAAAHH!” you moaned out as you reached your orgasm, letting your grip loose from his hair as your body let go of the tension. Mammon laps his tongue down to clean up the mess you made. He gathers some on his tongue, looking up to you with his tongue sticking out, when he suddenly takes it into his mouth and swallows you.

He notices the flaming blush that adorns your cheeks. He brings himself up, sitting on your thighs, his bulge prominent. You stare down his body, glazed in sweat, realizing he lapsed into his demon form as you came down from your orgasm. His horns were shining, wings folded against his back as the car wasn’t a big enough space to let them free. You were positioned on the driver’s side back passenger’s seat, so you decided to slide into the center seat. You reach your hands to touch Mammon’s back, stroking his wings ever so gently. He moans in response, realizing he’s sensitive there. You begin to help guide them open as he leans into you. They fly open and block the whole view out of the windshield, darkening the space between you.

♡

Your hands come down to meet his waistband, tugging on it carefully. You look up into Mammon’s eyes, he can see the desire written over your face. He makes his bulge dance in response, prompting you to go for it. You drag down his boxers and out springs his length, glistening from his precum. It looks so tasty. You lean back in your seat to where you are practically laying down, gripping behind his thighs and urging him to come forward. He was on his knees, his length shadowing over your chest, his tip just barely against your lips. You hold yourself up by your elbows, turning up to him, teasing him “I bet you want your cock in my mouth, don’t you Mammon? You want to see your fragile human squirm under you, taking all of you inside of them?”

Oh, you did it now. His claws getting ever so longer as a growl comes from deep in his chest. “If you want it, show me just how badly,” your last words as he gripped your hair and pushed your mouth around his length, letting out a choke. He moaned in pleasure as he felt himself at the back of your throat, vibrations coming from you barely fitting him inside you. Mammon begins thrusting his hips back and forth, you sucking up on his length oh-so-perfectly. The smell of arousal and the sound of moans fill the car, enveloping both of you. All either of you can feel is bliss. He breaks the silence. 

“Y-Y/N... y-you’re so warm, ya s-suck me off so well, k-keep going, I’m getting close-” He can’t speak anymore, feeling the surge of pleasure rush up through his thighs as you swirl your tongue around him, bringing him to the edge. You pull your mouth off of his length and put his hand around it, urging him to get himself off. “I would love if the Great Mammon would cum for me, I want to feel it all over my face, I want you to make me yours, show me who owns me,” you moan up at him, pulling down your bra to release your warm breasts, toying with them to tease him.

“Oh f-fuck, y-you’re all mine, my treasure, my b-baby, I’m.. I’m...” he groans out, and he’s pushed over the edge. He bucks forward, letting out a deep deep growl, moaning your name and climaxing all over your face and your chest, his cum hot against your skin. He looks down at you taking his load and lets out another groan, watching as you lap it up with your fingertips, eventually licking them clean.

♡

He pushes you down against the leather seats, his length rubbing against your throbbing heat, aching for you. You let out a squeal from your sensitivity, your chest arching up towards him. You reach your hands down to try to push him into you but he stops you, grabbing your wrists and pinning them down above your head. He pushes his lips firmly against yours, exploring your mouth with his tongue. Your chests are touching, he’s just about burning you with the heat radiating from his body.

He pulls away from your face and looks down to you, it looks like he wants to say something. He looks... nervous? After all of that?

“Mammon, are you okay?” you asked gently, turning your head slightly, a smile on your face. “Y-yeah, I just don’t wanna hurt ya. I tried to open ya up for me but what if it’s too much for your human body to handle?” he sighs and stares away for a moment. He loosens the grip on your wrists and you cup both of his cheeks, whispering up at him softly, “I trust you with my life, Mammon. I feel so safe with you, you’re my protector. The Great Mammon. I promise if it’s too much I’ll tell you right away. It’s okay baby.”

He nods and smiles with a blush in response, he couldn’t be happier to hear you say those words to him, as unexpected as they are.

You spread open your legs for him, situating your body in a more comfortable spot, preparing for the time of your life. You lift yourself up with your hands and whisper into his ear, “Take me for a ride, won’t you?”

♡

He growls and stretches his arms and his back, preparing himself. You want a ride? A ride is what you’re gonna get, and it’s gonna be a bumpy one.

He picks up your bottom half by your thighs, dragging you towards him, putting you in the perfect position. He takes hold of his length and lines himself up with your opening, rubbing his tip up and down your heat. You squirm under him, pleading with him in your head, dying for him to give you what you’ve only dreamed of for nearly a year now. He hears you struggling and lets out a low chuckle, a bit evil. He likes to see you all worked up for him, there’s nothing better, honestly.

He begins sliding his length inside of you, the heat from within immediately making him jolt. He can’t help the arousal from feeling you around him, squeezing him tight. You let out a small whimper and look up to him, concern suddenly written all over his face.

Your wrists had been freed a while ago so you take this opportunity to grab onto his soft bottom, pushing him further into you, moaning right in his ear. It hurts... it hurts so good. He’s so big compared to you. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as he hits the deepest parts of you. You must have awakened something in him, the look in his eyes giving him an almost primal vibe. He leans down and whispers into your ear along with a growl “That’s a good human, take all of me inside of ya, scream my name, ‘m gonna fuck you so hard ya won’t walk for a week...”

He thrusts in and out of you at a fast pace, hitting your core over and over again. You’re both moaning and groaning into each others’ ears. Mammon grips hard onto the headrests of the seats, pounding into you like it’s his last day to live. Your hands grasping at his shoulders, you can’t help but claw your nails down, leaving red scratches all over his back. He almost hisses in response, causing you to moan out louder. He takes his right hand and brings it to your throat, silencing you. Your eyes roll back into your head once again, your back arching and your hands gripping tight against the leather seats, nearly ripping them open.

♡

His thrusts speed up, bringing you closer and closer to the biggest orgasm of your life. Mammon's hand around your throat, you try to let out a sentence, “Mammoney baby, I’m gonna c-cum for you, p-please, d-don’t hold back,” you managed to say. His face goes beat red and wings flutter behind him. 

You stroke his horns atop his head, barely letting out one last sentence. “F-fill me up with your cum, m-mark your t-territory, I’m a-all yours-” your sentence is cut off as your orgasm takes over your body, Mammon releasing your throat, you proceeding to scream his name in pleasure as you gripped his length inside of you, trying to juice him.

He pounds his length into you faster and faster, bringing himself to the edge of his climax. He can’t hold back, can’t speak. He brings his head down to bite your neck, leaving teeth marks and a little bit of blood afterwards, marking you as his. He sucks on his marking and groans out loudly in pleasure, unable to contain himself any longer. You can feel his length twitch as he fills you up inside, heating the inner walls of your core, giving you the most butterflies you’ve ever had.

♡

You both look down and giggle along with deep breaths, you did a number to the seats of his car. You look at him in worry as he sees the condition of the leather. He notices that you look scared so he holds you tight to him, body-to-body warmth between you.

“I can already tell what you’re ‘bout to say, and it’s alright. Y’mean more to me than some leather seats. Now I can look at my seats ‘n remember my first time with ya, amirite?” he says with a smile, placing the most gentle of kisses on your lips, glazed with sweat.

You go to try to stand up to get out of the car but your body is beyond it’s limits. Mammon notices you struggling to get up and chuckles. “I told ya you wouldn’t be able t’walk for a while.”

♡

He pulls his boxers back on and picks you up bridal style out of the car seat, carrying you down the stairs and onto his bed gently. He remembers tearing up your underwear so he dashes to his closet, finding one of his favorite t-shirts and a pair of pajama pants and swiftly bringing them over to the bed.

“Put these on, we don’t need ya walking out with stains on your uniform and no underwear,” he explains with a giggle. He looked up at you to see you looking sad. “What’sa matter treasure?”

“Well, I was hoping... maybe... that I could stay with you for the night?” you ask, nervously waiting for a response. Mammon helps you take off your bralette and get dressed in his comfy clothes, and cups your cheek, looking into your eyes.

“Of course y’can stay with me, you’re my human! My treasure! Who wouldn’t wanna stay with the Great Mammon anyway?” he smirks and chuckles, you smacking his chest in return.

He crawls up into the bed with you, laying you next to him and pulling your back into his chest. He covers you both with his bedspread and begins rubbing your arms, resting his cheek against your ear. He had never felt this way before. He really fell for a human. Does he regret it? Not at all, he wouldn’t have it any other way. The only problem now? Now he feels like he has to protect you forever, all the time. He loves you too much to ever see you get hurt.

“S-so... does this mean... y-you’re my girlfriend?” Mammon let out shyly, almost expecting you to say something negative or reject him.

You turn back to face him, your arm around his waist. You smile up at him, “I would love nothing more than to be your girlfriend... your treasure.” You plant the lightest kiss on his forehead and turn back around as he begins to spoon you again. Within the next few minutes, you fell asleep in his arms, not a care in the world, no thoughts besides the thought of being his treasure forever.

♡

The brothers felt bad about what happened earlier and were worried about Mammon’s well-being. Lucifer approached his door with the brothers, quickly realizing it’s locked. He took his master keys out of his coat pocket and unlocked Mammon’s door. He took a few steps in and froze in place. His brothers glanced with him over his shoulder to see Mammon with his arms around you, protecting you, sleeping next to you.

They all couldn’t bring themselves to make a sound. They couldn’t believe their eyes. Y/N... and Mammon?

“It’s about time he told her how he felt!” Asmo shouted as the brothers all shushed him, not wanting to wake the two of you.

“We can talk to him in the morning, let him have peace for once today. I can only imagine Y/N needs rest as well,” Lucifer explained.

Lucifer and the brothers turned around and Lucifer locked the door behind him, a cheeky smirk on his face. He was proud of his brother for finally being honest with himself and taking pride in what he wanted. Would he ever let Mammon know that? Oh, hell no.

♡

I’ve wanted to see a fic about this ever since I fell in love with Mammon and saw his room, so I wrote it!

 I’m only comfortable with F!MC writing since I’ve never familiarized myself with GN!MC or M!MC. My apologies!

I do NOT give permission to post this anywhere else. I also have this posted on Wattpad, my username is daradoodlebug. If you like my work, please feel free to like, comment, follow, share, or REBLOG. Thank you for taking the time to read my first piece!

[crystalirises]

Phil is a famous and powerful Vampire Hunter with three sons, Wilbur, Tommy and Techno. One night Wilbur gets kidnapped by a vampire, he gets turned into a vampire but for years he has hope his father or twin would come to save him. His family never comes, he eventually gives up on hope and around this time he falls in love with another Vampire named George. They want to have a kid but they can't make one themself, so they surprise adopt Fundy. One of the vampire hunters SBI comes to help and everything goes downhill from here.

also thanks for the great writing

Y O U

I don't know who you are, but I love this prompt so much. Like, I want to confess right now that I actually have like... four (???) vampire AUs that all concern Georgebur + Sondy. I just haven't written them cause well, I just talked about them with a friend and 'm lazy to write XD.

But this prompt. YESSSSSSSSSSSS.

It literally just has everything. Wilbur's daddy issues and abandonment issues. Georgebur. Fundy. Surprise Adoption (Kidnapping). Vampires.

Love it.

Anyway, warnings: Blood, Violence, General Vampire Warnings, Possible Kidnapping, Mentions of Death, Abandonment Issues, Grief, and Suicidal Themes

Hope you like this!

“Eret? W-wha…? It’s the middle of the fucking night, man!”

Wilbur rubbed at his eyes, his friend’s hunched silhouette illuminated by the window.

They didn’t respond, and Wilbur could hear alarm bells ringing in the back of his mind.

He climbed out of bed, taking quick notice of the empty bed on the other side of the room. Techno and Phil must be out. Wilbur tried not to let it hurt him as much, his attention focused on his best friend who hadn’t made a single twitch or move ever since they’d climbed through his bedroom window. Worry settled in his gut, a heavy weight settling over his throat, making it hard to breathe. He stepped closer, the faint scent of metal piercing through the air. Wilbur nearly gagged, pressing a hand to his mouth and nose. Blood. He glanced down at the carpeted floor, goosebumps running down his skin as he gazed at the dark pool that was forming beneath Eret.

“ERET!” Wilbur gripped his friend by the shoulders, “What happened?!”

“Wil…?” Eret practically collapsed against him, hands clinging to the back of his shirt like their life depended on it. Underneath the darkness of the room, Wilbur could hardly look Eret in the eyes. Eret shook within his hold, almost like they were struggling against some force. “N-n-no!”

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?! Who did this?!” Wilbur pulled Eret away, but their head was leaned against his shoulder, their breath cold against his neck. It was difficult to see, but after a moment, he found the source of Eret’s pain. There was a dagger lodged against their back, just a few inches off Eret’s heart. He felt a panic course through him. Should he fucking pull it out?! He wasn’t a fucking healer, what the fuck was he supposed to do?! “Shit, shit, shit, fuck, um… I…”

His fingers grasped at the leather hilt, his mind screaming at him to do something, anything! Wilbur took a moment to listen to Eret’s breathing, their shallow breaths were mere puffs against his skin. He could feel Eret’s blood between his fingers, somehow, the blade hadn’t stopped the bleeding. Wilbur made a choice. He wouldn’t let his best friend bleed out. “I’m so sorry, Eret.”

Wilbur pulled the blade, wincing at the squelch of flesh and blood that resonated through the room. It was easy to ignore, since Eret let out the most unholy screech that Wilbur had ever heard in his life. He shuddered at the scream, the pain within its shriek. He swore that it sounded like— Eret collapsed against him, unconscious, but their breath had regained normalcy. Wilbur hesitantly held onto them, attention turning to the blade that he’d pulled from his best friend. Their village wasn’t the safest place, but one could usually walk around without being stabbed.

He held the dagger, blood still sticky against the skin of his palm. Wilbur brought the blade closer, eyes narrowing. It was a blade made of pure silver, the hilt dyed pink with a pink ribbon tied to one end. A chill ran down his spine. He adjusted the dagger, looking at the bottom of the hilt. A silver crow stared back at him. It was his dad’s symbol, but it was Techno’s blade.

He dropped the blade just as a searing pain tore through his throat.

He screamed, sharp teeth biting deeper into his skin.

Jagged claws gripped at the back of his shirt, an inhumane growl tearing through the air as Eret suddenly pushed him to the ground, holding him still as they continued to feed on his blood.

His mind turned to fog, but he could hear the slam of a door in the distance… 

“WILBUR!” Someone screamed. But he was dragged away. And then there was nothing.

---

“I’m sorry…”

It was the first thing Eret had told him once he’d woken up, and they’d been saying it ever since.

“Sorry doesn’t change me back, Eret. Sorry doesn’t make me any less of a monster than you!”

“I didn’t mean to, Wilbur!” Eret wrapped their arms around themself, “I was tired and injured.”

“Of course you were fucking injured!” He hissed out, “You deserved to be!”

“I know.” Eret hung their head, “I know, Wilbur. I’ve known that all my life.”

“Then you should have given yourself the mercy of death the moment you first turned!”

“You don’t think I tried?!” They both took a breath. They stood in one of the many great halls of Eret’s home, a castle hidden deep within the forest, far from the prying gaze of any mortal. Eret gestured to the portraits of vampires before them, vampires that were absent from the castle. Wilbur and Eret were the only ones in the castle, and in the past few months, Wilbur wondered where Eret’s servants were. Where were the butlers? The maids? The human bloodbanks? “I’m not ancient, but I might as well be. I come from a long ancestry of vampires, but it wasn’t by choice, Wilbur. My… sire… he was cruel, but he cared for me too much to let me go and die.”

“Where’s your sire now?”

“I don’t know.” Shame danced across Eret’s face, “But I know that I fear death to try again.”

“So you’d rather drink the blood of the innocent? You’d rather be a monster?!”

“It’s been so long, Wilbur. I don’t recall what it is even like to be human.” It was an odd confession, one filled with so much heart that if Wilbur didn’t know that vampires didn’t have beating hearts, he might have fallen for the trick. He scowled instead, disgust ripping throughout his whole being. To think they’d been his closest friend. Instead, they’d turned and betrayed him by turning him into a parasite like them. “I don’t want to hurt anyone. But I get so hungry—”

“Then fucking control it!” It was unreasonable, and they both knew that. Wilbur should know, in the first few days since he’s turning, he kept attacking Eret since his new stomach needed his sire’s blood. He’d gotten better control… but sometimes the hunger would take over him again. Eret never complained. Not like they had any right to, after all, this mess was their fucking fault.

“My dad will come for me.” Wilbur spoke softly, “And when he does, I hope he kills us both.”

“I hope not.” Eret shuddered, “In truth, Wilbur. I don’t want to die.” Wilbur didn’t care.

---

“You’re new. Intriguing, but a bit too humanlike for my taste.”

He groaned, burying his head in his hands. Eret had apologized, but for the evening they were meant to host a gathering for the renowned vampire families within the continent. Wilbur had been forced to wear a yellow suit that had a collar that scratched and irritated his neck. After an hour of being gazed and prodded at, he’d had enough of the gathering and had snuck away to a secluded balcony. Fuck Eret’s reputation. Unfortunately, a nuisance had followed after him.

“What, and humans are as good as livestock for you?”

“What of you? Do you understand that not all vampires kill those that they feed upon?”

“Doesn’t change that you’re all bloodsucking leeches.” He huffed, turning away to gaze into the distance. In the forest, one could see the stars of the night, but the only lights Wilbur wanted to see were of a village far, far away. It’s been years. Phil wasn’t coming for him. Neither was Techno. He rubbed at his wrists, the silence felt nice… but he knew the other vampire hadn’t left.

“That’s your issue. You still act human when you’re no longer one. Haven’t you understood that you’re trapped just like the rest of us… well, the rest of them?” The stranger moved to stand next to him, placing their arms against the cold stone banister. Wilbur took a moment to glance over, his breath catching in his throat. A pair of warm chocolate eyes stared up at him curiously. The stranger wore a light blue suit, and despite Wilbur’s assumption that all vampires were tall, this stranger was short… shorter than Wilbur. He was dressed finely, carrying himself with a strong elegance that only years of nobility could give. The only oddity was the goggles around his neck.

“...what do you mean?”

“I’ve been alive for centuries.” The stranger sighed, “I’m one of the ancients.”

“So you’ve turned many innocents into monsters.” The stranger let out a low laugh, mirthless and tired. It sounded like they’ve been told the same accusation before. Wilbur squirmed right where he stood. In truth, the stranger was far from what he expected an Ancient Vampire to be. Phil had told them that Ancient Vampires were powerful, and that they barely even looked human at all. His dad had never been wrong… and he would never lie. “But you look… normal.”

“Humans and exaggerations.” The stranger rolled his eyes, arching a brow at Wilbur. “Why do you cling to human beliefs? In the end they are inferior… and some are monsters themselves.”

“That’s not true.”

“What? Do you believe that all human misery stems from the existence of vampires?”

The stranger sighed, casting his gaze to the heavens. “Think. Aren’t we all monsters in our own ways?” He paused, catching Wilbur’s eye. “Vampires, humans… we all are monsters. A vampire who kills for the sake of killing and a father who abandons his son to die… both monsters, hm?”

He stayed silent for a long while, letting his heart finally crack under the truth. “I’m Wilbur.”

The stranger scoffed, a smile playing on his lips. “I’m George Lore. A pleasure to meet you.”

---

“He’s an actual angel.”

Wilbur watched his husband cradle the human boy that they had taken from a nearby village, the poor baby looked pale, his breath coming out in short huffs. George had wrapped an orange ribbon around their son’s neck, concealing the bite marks that would begin their son’s transformation. He had wanted to turn the boy himself, but George had intervened. Wilbur had only been a vampire for ten years, he wouldn’t have the self-control to simply bite and not feed.

“He bumped into me.” Wilbur chuckled, “I just knew he was perfect.”

‘It had been odd. His father had stated once before that vampires couldn’t walk underneath the sunlight, but that had been a terrible misconception, one that Eret and George had both laughed at. The idea had stemmed from - actually, they were an ancestor of Eret - a vampire who had had a very dramatic reaction to the sun after decades of being chained inside an underground vault.

Wilbur laughed mirthlessly. Another lie. Maybe vampire hunters were just full of shit.

He walked through the bustling streets of the city, his pace slow and relaxed. He’d gone with Eret to procure a few fruits from the village market, but while Eret’s back was turned, Wilbur snuck away to have a morning stroll around the wooden buildings and through the small alleyways.

Wilbur had slipped into an alleyway when a bright orange blur bumped right onto him. If he had been human, he would have continued on, slightly irritated but unaware of the crime that had just been committed. But he hadn’t been human for so long, and the world to him was a swirl of motion and color. Slow, the present quickly melting into the past. He gripped the hand that had snuck into his pocket, his vice-like grip nearly bruising as he pulled the orange blur to face him. A pained whine escaped the thief, small and so childlike that Wilbur had nearly let them go then and there. He kept his mercy at bay, eyes narrowed dangerously at the cretin who had dared to—

Wide brown eyes flecked with gold stared up at him in fear. The child had collapsed completely in Wilbur’s hold, practically hanging against the hand that was curled around his wrist. Wilbur adjusted his grasp, easing up so as not to hurt the poor child. But he’d been a bit too late. A river of tears cascaded down the child’s cheeks, small whimpers piercing through the quiet air.

“I’m sorry!” The child continued to cry, “Please don’t hurt me! I just… I was so hungry…”

“You were hungry?” The question only made them cry even louder. “Oh no, it’s alright. Shhhh.”

He kneeled so that he was at face-level with the child. “What’s your name, champ?”

“F-Fundy…” The boy sniffed, wiping his nose on the tattered sleeve of his black jacket. Wilbur took in the child’s clothes, the dirt that clung to pale skin… Wilbur didn’t need to ask to know. He gently let go of the child, careful to keep a hand on the child’s back so that he wouldn’t immediately try to run away. Fundy didn’t move, his bottom lip trembling. Wilbur continued to shush him, moving the child so that he was closer to him, enough for Wilbur to catch him in case he tried to run away. Fundy was hungry. Wilbur knew a thing or two about hunger. The boy was still staring at him. He made a quick decision. Wilbur smiled. He and George did want a kid…’

“He was hungry. I couldn’t just leave him, love.”

Wilbur approached George, his husband had placed Fundy back on the huge bed that seemed to swallow him. He was so small. He ran a hand through their son’s curly hair, catching George’s eye as his husband bit into his wrist. Newly made vampires needed their sire’s blood to survive.

“Well,” George placed his wrist above Fundy’s lips. “He won’t go hungry now that we’re here.”

---

Techno sharpened his dagger.

The glow of the fire illuminated the monster’s face, the dark blood that pooled against their pale skin a constant reminder that the person before him was nothing more than a bloodsucking leech upon humanity. He sheathed his dagger, a part of him eager to pierce through the vampire’s skin and tear out their heart. He couldn’t, not yet. They were bait for the Ancient. His actual target.

“He won’t come,” the vampire muttered. “Not for me. We aren’t kin… o-or are you—?”

“I’m here for Lore.” Techno huffed, “Not Brine.”

The beast raised their gaze, the warm fire somehow weaker against the light of their pure white eyes. It was the mark of the Brine Vampire Clan, powerful ancient vampires that once brought chaos upon the world. But to Techno, this particular vampire was more damning than any other vampire in existence. He knew their face, he knew their name. Wilbur had trusted them once, and look where that had gotten him. Mutilated somewhere, a decomposing corpse that would never find its way back home. “You haven’t killed me yet. I would have thought that you…”

“I wish I’d killed you those years ago.” He had been so close. A few inches off the heart. If only his aim hadn’t been so shaky back then, then maybe Wilbur would still be… “I wish I did.”

Tommy had hated him for being late. Their relationship had never recovered after that fateful night. If Techno hadn’t hesitated. If Techno hadn’t froze the moment he realized where the vampire had run off to. If Techno had run just a bit faster. By the time he reached their house, Tommy had collapsed by his and Wilbur’s bedroom door, skin so pale that Techno worried that the vampire had gotten him too. He’d taken one look at the empty bedroom, the white curtains billowing as the night air came from the open window, dark blood left to dry on the carpet. He’d known. He’d known back then. His twin was gone. Devoured by a beast that he’d failed to kill.

“Techno, I am sorry. I can’t help what I am. You injured me, I was injured, bleeding, and scared. My instincts took over. I never meant to hurt anyone. I never meant to hurt Wil.” His hand clenched against the hilt of his blade. He would not listen to such lies. Twenty years. Twenty years since the monster before him took away his twin brother. Twenty years of blaming himself for failing. Phil never blamed him, of course his dad would never blame him. But on bad days, Phil would confuse him for Wilbur finally come back to them. That’s why he’d dyed his hair.

“Senseless apologies do not bring the dead back to life. It does not mend the frayed relationships of a broken family. It does not erase the years of guilt and sorrow. It does not erase the hurt that you caused. You took away a life, and I should take away yours. Wilbur wouldn’t have wanted me to. He was our family’s poet, the one who could see the beauty of the world despite the monsters that lurked within it. I should kill you for the pain you’ve caused my family.” Techno’s hand trembled. The beast stared at him through the orange flame, a perplexed look crossing their face. Of course, they wouldn’t understand human grief. “I’ll have your head after I have Lore’s.”

He took a deep breath. If there had been any other vampire that could bait the Ancient, then Techno would have gladly used them instead. Being around this particular vampire brought forth emotions that he’d buried years ago. There was still a question that was poised at the tip of his tongue, an urge to ask what Eret had done to his twin’s corpse. Had they buried him? Or had they left Wilbur to rot until nature consumed every piece of his body? He wanted to know, but he feared that the vampire would mock him. So, he kept his question unasked. Ignorance was bliss.

---

“Techno.” He froze, hands poised over the silver-lined ropes that kept Eret’s hands tied behind their back. Wilbur had snuck closer into the empty camp, ears desperately trying to catch every little noise, but the fire had rendered his efforts useless. Techno had used the crackle of wood to disguise his footsteps, using it to sneak behind Wilbur, a familiar blade pressed to the side of his neck. The dagger wavered, but it stayed where it was. He took a chance to look behind him.

It was like looking at a mirror, except he didn’t have pink hair. “Wilbur…?”

A flicker of disbelief danced in those emotionless eyes, it surprised him. A part of him looked at his twin, and he could almost feel his old human heart beat inside his chest. He wanted to reach out, pull his brother into a tight embrace. Techno had grown up… and Wilbur knew he was the same age he was when he’d been turned. He was happy to see Techno again, but… the blade lowered from his neck. Yet Techno hesitated. Suddenly, all the bitterness and pain came surging back. Techno didn’t care for him. To his twin brother, he was nothing but another beast to slay.

He gripped the hilt of the dagger, twisting it away from his brother’s grasp before Techno could even fight back. His family had left him for dead. And now Techno was here to kill Eret and George, maybe he’d end up harming Fundy too. Wilbur can’t have that. He won’t lose his family.

Wilbur bared his fangs, “I’ll kill you. Take a single step, Technoblade, and I will tear you open.”

=============================================================

I didn’t mean to... but like, midway while I was writing this I suddenly decided “nah, don’t make the vampires so one-dimensional.” So yeah, a lot of misconceptions on the side of vampire hunters regarding vampires but some vampires still do kill people and most still see themselves as superior to humans. 

Also, yes. Eret is the vampire who took Wilbur because I wanted a bit of angst and I was like: “Hey, make Eret’s betrayal here be the fact that he and Wil are best friends but turns out Eret is a vampire.” Eret never meant to turn Wilbur, but it ended up happening anyway.

Now... about Fundy’s turning... I will leave that ambiguous. While he is in fact an orphan and lives in the streets, it was never mentioned here whether or not he agreed to being turned into a vampire.

Also also, I wasn’t gonna add Techno’s pov but like... “I Didn’t Say Goodbye” from The Mad Ones started playing and I was just: okay, Techno angst time.

I apologize for not adding Tommy but I didn’t know where to put him XD

So yeah, hope you guys liked this!

[leossmoonn]

Temptation

masterlist

pairing - silas x forbes,fem!reader

type - fluffy smut, angst

note / request - “can i request a silas fic where the reader is Caroline's lil sis and Silas likes to annoy her, and he likes her a lot. Then Care and Damon are always into protective sibling modes where silas is around y/n. So one day they catch y/n making out w him, and then theres a lot of banter again” this was really fun to write! im not gonna rewrite background info lol so make sure to read the request. also the timeline of events is a little fuzzy so i apologise if i make a mistake. enjoy :)

summary - damon and caroline find you making out with the enemy, who just happens to be silas 

warnings / includes - language, sibling fighting, steamy make out, sexual tension heheh, you’re in your senior year of high school, suggestive

————

*gif isn't mine*

“Hello, doll face,” Silas greeted behind you.

You jumped at his voice, but quickly settled down. “Hey, Silas,” you said dully.

“Why the long face, princess?” Silas asked. 

“Because you’re here,” you said. “Oh, that’s so mean. You’ve hurt my feelings,” Silas pouted. 

“Well, I’m not supposed to be talking to you anyways,” you stated matter-of-factly. 

“Ugh, you are such a goody two shoes. It’s cute, but annoying. Why not break the rules? I know you want to,” Silas said, leaning over the top of the couch, his face going right next to your’s.

You inhaled deeply, your heart pounding against your chest. You were attracted to him, no doubt about that, but if you even considered shaking his hand, Caroline and Damon would kill you. And you definitely didn’t want that.

“I can read your mind, Y/n. I know you want to kiss me, so go ahead,” he whispered. 

You didn’t turn your head, but your eyes wandered to the left. You got a good view of his lips, which made butterflies flutter in your stomach. It was so tempting to close the gap between you two, but you knew better than that. You turned your head the other way, standing up from the couch. You packed up your school work, deciding to leave the Salvatore house and go to your own. 

You were at the Salvatore house because Damon had offered to help you with your history homework. You took the offer and you two had been studying for a few hours. He had left you for 30 minutes to go and get you two lunch. In those 30 minutes, Silas had wandered into the house, looking for you. 

You pulled out your phone, texting Damon to go to your house instead of back to his. 

“Where are ya going?” Silas asked. 

“Home,” you mumbled, keeping your head down and walking to the front door. 

Silas stood in front of the door, making you look up at him with an annoyed frown. 

“Please let me go,” you said. 

“No, I’d rather see you beg,” Silas smirked. You rolled your eyes. “Please. Damon is waiting for me at my house with food.”

“Oh! Well, why don’t I just go with you, then? I’d love to see Damon.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you chuckled. “Why not? I can just pretend to be his brother! I’ve fooled lots of people already,” Silas smiled. 

“I think Damon will notice. Especially if I’m there,” you said.  “I’ll just sneak in then,” Silas suggested. 

“No, Silas! I just want to go home alone. Leave me alone,” you said sternly, looking him straight in the eyes. You went to push him out of the way, but his hands grabbed ahold of your wrists. His strong grip made goosebumps rush up your forearms.

Silas couldn’t help but smirk. You rarely ever had outbursts. He thought it was incredibly sexy and cute when you put your foot down. Especially when it pertained to him. 

“You are so adorable when you’re mad. You're so small, too. I can’t help but not take you seriously,” Silas chuckled. 

Your eyes went wide and you opened your mouth to say something, but nothing came out. You masked your embarrassment by groaning and running your fingers through your hair in frustration. “Just let me go! Please. I’m hungry and tired and really need to study for my test.”

“What is your test over, anyways? History? Cause if so, I could help you out. I bet I know more than Damon,” Silas said. 

“No thanks, bro, she’s all taken care of,” Damon said from behind Silas. 

“You tattled that I was here! So naughty of you,” Silas glared at you playfully. 

“Step out of the way, Silas. Otherwise I will snap your neck,” Damon sneered. 

Silas sighed. “Fine! I’m only obeying because I want to kiss you before I die.”

“Fat chance of that. C’mon, Y/n. I got you a burger and those onion rings you like,” Damon said.

“Thanks, Damon,” you smiled gratefully at him. 

“See you later, doll face!” Silas called out as you walked to your car. 

“I’m sorry about him. I should make you the owner of the house,” Damon said. 

You shrugged, “It’s alright. He would never actually hurt me.”

“Well, we don’t know that,” Damon said. 

“Yes, we do. Sure, he might threaten to kill me sometimes, but his liking for me trumps any chance of him killing me. I don’t fear him, he’s just extremely annoying,” you said, getting in your car.

“Agreed,” Damon said. 

You two drove to your house, eating lunch and studying for a few more hours. Caroline and Elena then came home, talking to you and Damon about a party at the Grill. 

“Can I come?” You asked. 

“Um, yeah, sure,” Caroline nodded. 

You smiled excitedly. You barley went to any of these parties. You usually were at home studying or hiding away in your house because Caroline and Damon were always worried for you, but Caroline figured that since she and Damon and everyone else would be there, they would be able to protect you. 

So you took a quick shower and got ready for the night. You put on ripped jeans and a black, spaghetti-strapped top with a jean jacket. You put on heeled boots and put on some silver jewellery, as well as lined your eyes with eyeliner and painted your lips red with lipstick.

“Oh, you look so cute!” Elena exclaimed as you walked out of your room. 

“Thanks, Elena,” you smiled at her. 

“No, go change,” Caroline said. “Why?” You frowned. 

“Because Silas could be there and that outfit would tempt him even more,” Damon explained. 

You rolled your eyes. “So when Klaus was here, Caroline could wear anything, but I guess since I’m younger and a human, I can’t? That’s so unfair.”

“She’s right, guys. I hate Silas as much as you two, but let her dress how she wants. We’ll be there to protect her. Plus, if Silas thinks she’s hot, then good for her. She is,” Elena agreed with you. 

You smiled at her. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” she smiled. 

“Ugh, fine! But no drinking, okay?” Caroline said. 

“Ay, ay captain,” you said. You four went out to Elena’s SUV, driving to the Grill. 

Loud music blasted into your ears as soon as you stepped inside. You smiled as you saw everything dancing and having the time of their life. 

“Shots?” Caroline suggested. 

“Hell yeah!” Elena squealed. 

“Iced tea for you, Y/n?” Caroline asked. “Yes, please,” you nodded. 

“Alright, you guys go to the pool table. I’ll be back,” Caroline said. 

“Where is Stefan?” You asked, looking around the bar and walking to the pool table that was conveniently empty. 

“Right here!” 

You turned around, smiling once you saw Stefan in a grey shirt, jeans, and his leather jacket. You went to hug him, but Damon stopped you. 

“Ah, ah, ah. How do we know it isn’t Silas?” Damon asked. 

Stefan rolled his eyes. He pulled out a blood bag from his pocket, taking it and drinking it quickly. 

“Alright, alright, we know it’s you. Cool it on the blood, brother. Don’t want to go into a bloodlust,” Damon said, taking the empty bag and throwing it in the trash. 

“Well, I don’t really know how else to prove I’m not Silas,” Stefan sighed. “Can I get that hug now?”

You smiled and nodded, wrapping your arms around him. 

Between everyone else, Damon and Stefan were your best friends. They were like the brothers you’ve never had, protecting you and teasing you whenever they felt like it was necessary. You hadn’t seen Stefan in a while since he was found in the safe, but you were glad to see he was okay. 

“Glad to see you’re okay, Stef,” you said, pulling back. 

“And I’m glad to see you haven’t fallen victim to my doppelgänger,” Stefan smiled. 

Caroline came back with shots, pleasantly surprised to see Stefan. 

“Stefan! You’re here! Oh, my God the whole gang is here!” She squealed, putting down the shots and engulfing Stefan is a big hug. 

“I’m excited to be here, too. This is the first time I’ve really gone out for fun. I hope nothing goes wrong,” Stefan joked. 

“Well, if any of you spot Silas, make sure to not let him get close to Y/n. We don’t know what he could do to her,” Caroline said.

You rolled your eyes at her concern, but didn’t say anything. You knew it would end up with you two arguing and that was the last thing anything wanted. Forbes were very controlling and heated when they got angry.

You took your tea and sipped on it as Damon downed the first shot. 

“Wait, are we playing in teams?” You asked. 

“Yeah, which one do you wanna be one? Damon and I’s?” Stefan asked. 

“Definitely yours,” you said. “Oh, what! You know I win all the time,” Damon said. 

“Yeah, but when you lose you get so mad. It’s hilarious,” you giggled.

“True, it is cute,” Elena smirked. 

Damon rolled his eyes. “Whatever. You two are so annoying.”

You smiled and played with your friends for a little while. It came to a time where everyone was too tipsy to where they could barely walk, so you were in charge of getting the drinks. Damon and Caroline, despite being pretty much drunk, stayed close behind you. 

“Hey, Matt,” you smiled at the boy working behind the bar. “Hey, Y/n! Let me guess, more shots and another iced tea?” He asked. 

“You guessed right,” you chuckled. 

“So, how is school?” He asked. 

“Pretty good. History is kicking my ass, per usual. It’s weird because I’m surrounded by history buffs,” you said. 

“Well, I know you have Damon helping you, but Stefan is a lot better at tutoring, in my opinion. I know he’s been having a rough time, though,” Matt said. 

“He has, which is why I should be your tutor,” Silas smirked next to you. 

You jumped slightly, surprised to see him there. You looked at him, seeing him wearing a dark navy shirt and jeans. Your eyes stared at his biceps and his strong, broad shoulders. Once you noticed him smirking at you, you looked back to the drinks Matt was filling. 

“Now I get the silent treatment? C’mon, not fair,” Silas whined.

“You shouldn’t be here, man,” Matt said. 

“Yeah, and what are you gonna do about, it huh?” Silas taunted, looking at Matt with narrow, menacing eyes. 

Matt rolled his eyes, putting the tequila shots and your drink on a tray and handing them to you. 

“Thanks, Matt,” you smiled.

You took the tray, ready to turn around and walk away from Silas. He put his arm up, planning to grab your arm to stop you, but Caroline and Damon used their vamp speed to push him back. 

“Don’t you dare touch her,” Caroline sneered. Veins were circulating under her eyes and she bared her fangs. 

Silas smirked, not at all fazed. “Oh, please, I could kill both of you so fast, you couldn’t have chance to say bye to Y/n. Now, let me go, Damon.”

Damon’s grip on Silas’s arms tightened. “Not a chance. We’re going outside and I’m gonna make sure you are far away from here.”

Damon then took Silas to the exit, Silas looking back at you and giving you a wink. Caroline groaned in disgust and took the tray away from you. 

“You okay?” She asked. 

“I’m fine, Care! He wasn’t going to hurt me,” you glared at her. 

“You don’t know that! Why are you defending him? Doesn't he annoy you?” Caroline asked. 

“Yeah, he does,” you said, your voice trailing off at the end, alluding to something else.

Caroline stared at you intensely, gasping once she put the pieces together. “You… You like him? Ugh, why! He’s a monster.”

“I don’t like him! God, why is that always your first assumption?” You asked.

“Because you obviously are having physical reactions to him. We all see the way you look down in shyness when he flirts with you, and we can hear your heart racing. We just hoped you wouldn’t give in,” Caroline sighed. 

“I’m not! I don’t like him in any way, okay? Just because I defend someone doesn’t mean I automatically like them!”

“That’s what you always say! You need to get rid of those feelings, Y/n. He’s not a good person.”

You closed your eyes in frustration, sighing roughly. “I’m going to the bathroom to cool down. When I come out, you better not say anything else about me liking Silas.”

You spun on your heels, storming off to the bathroom. You washed your hands, putting them to your forehead to cool yourself down. 

“Feelings for Silas, please,” you scoffed to yourself. 

“She’s right. I know it, you know it. Everyone does.”

You looked in the mirror, jumping once you saw Silas behind you. You turned around quickly. 

“H-How did you get in here?” You asked.

“I knocked Damon out,” he shrugged. 

“What?! Is he okay?” You asked. “Yes, he’s fine. I know that you would hate me if I killed one of your friends,” he said.

You sighed, “I have to go. They’re waiting for me.” You went to the door, but Silas once again blocked the entrance. 

“You gotta be quicker, Y/n. Someday you might find yourself in real trouble,” Silas smiled down at you. 

“You are real trouble,” you retorted.

“Oh, we both know that’s not true. If I was then you’d be screaming for your life. But you’re just standing there, looking so incredibly kissable,” Silas said, shamelessly looking at your lips. 

Your cheeks felt like they were on fire, and you looked down to hide your face. “No, I just don’t want to make a scene,” you mumbled. 

Silas put his hand on your chin, making your eyes meet his. “While that is true, you also having feelings for me.”

You stepped away from him, his hand falling to his side. “I don’t. You’re evil and cheated on your girlfriend. No girl wants to be with a guy like that.”

“Elena practically cheated on Stefan emotionally, you’re still friends with her,” Silas stated. 

You furrowed your brows, not sure what to say back. He was correct, but you knew that wasn’t the point. You needed to get out of there otherwise Caroline and Damon would freak out. 

Silas walked towards you slowly, like you were his prey that he was stalking. You turned around, not wanting to look at him. Silas grinned, seeing as his plan would work out even better now that you were facing the mirrors. 

He put his hand on your bare arm, dragging his fingertips up your skin. 

“I’m so glad you took off the leather jacket. Your outfit looks so much better without it,” he murmured. 

You immediately froze. Your eyes were glued to the two of you in the mirror. You watched as his hand went up to your shoulders, pressing down lightly on your muscles. 

“Shouldn’t you be running, Y/n?” Silas asked, moving. your hair out of the way so he could get a better view of your neck. 

You knew you should, but his touch felt so good. It weirdly calmed your nerves down, but also made you flustered as hell. You would be lying if you said you didn’t want to stay in this bathroom and let him take you. Silas smiled at your thoughts, lowering his lips down to your shoulder. 

“I can totally take you right here if you want,” he whispered, his lips making contact with your skin. 

You inhaled sharply, finding yourself stumbling back into his chest. His other arm went around your waist, holding you close to him.

“Your skin is so soft, doll face,” he said while kissing up your neck. 

You watched him in the mirror, your stomach doing flips. Your legs felt weak and heat gathered in between your thighs. You had honestly wanted to kiss him this whole time. You decided a few more minutes in the bathroom couldn’t hurt. 

So you turned around, crashing your lips onto his. Silas smiled as you kissed him, his hands trailing down to your legs. He lifted you up with ease, taking you to the sink and placing you on the counter. Your legs wrapped around his waist, your hands running themselves through his hair. 

“Silas,” you breathed out as you felt his hands on your thighs, going higher and higher. 

“You like that, princess?” He hummed, his fingers going higher until they reached your clothed entrance. He pulled away, grinning and looking you in the eyes. 

“Uh-huh,” you hummed, pulling his face close to yours roughly.

Your lips collided again, your heart and brain exploding. Kissing him felt like heaven.

Silas mirrored your neediness and put his hands on your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. You pressed your chest up to him more, your hands going down from his head to the bottom of his shirt. You lifted it up, Silas pulling away so you could pull it off of him. You sat back and admired his abs and muscles, excitement growing in between your thighs. 

You dove down to his neck, kissing and sucking lightly. Your hands explored his chest, tracing along his prominate abs. Silas breathed heavily into your ear, groaning as you found his sweet spot. 

“Oh, Y/n,” he panted. 

You smirked against his skin. Before you could put your hands on his belt, the bathroom door burst open. You saw Caroline and Damon standing, eyes huge and mouths agape. 

“What the hell!” Caroline shrieked. 

Your eyes widened and you pushed Silas away from you, getting off the counter. 

“Really, Y/n? You pick him to make out with in the bathroom?” Damon groaned. 

“It is just happened,” you shrugged sheepishly. 

“Yeah, she’s a really good kisser,” Silas smirked. “I never would have expected it since she’s shy and all, but man, she is wil-”

“You shut the hell up. And you,” Caroline pointed to you. “Are going home. now.”

“He wasn’t hurting me, Care,” you said. 

Caroline looked at you two incredulously. “You’re making her say this! You pressured her, didn’t you!” She pointed to Silas. 

“He’s not! I was the one who kissed him first,” you admitted. “Yeah, but I helped a little,” Silas smirked. 

Caroline made her vampire face and lunged at Silas, to which Damon pulled her back. 

“Alright, blondie, why don’t you take Y/n home and I’ll deal with Silas, okay?” Damon said. 

Caroline huffed and nodded, grabbing you by the arm roughly. 

“We’ll continue another time, doll face!” Silas exclaimed. 

“No, you will not,” Damon glared.

————

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[adarlingwrites]

Muse

Summary:

You're a frustrated and starving artist, disillusioned with the world you move in. Transported to a new one, you unexpectedly find a muse.

Notes:

Last Boss/Artist!Reader. Protagonist is AFAB. Oneshot, explicit smut.

I just wanted to write something short, sweet, and self-indulgent because damn, I need a break. And um, our favorite tiger boy needs more love.

Your mind was in a dark place when everything changed.

No galleries had contacted you to put up your works there. Your art blog’s viewership is abysmal, all your commissions are still unfinished, and your bank account has dried up. Such is the life of the struggling young artist; no money, no connections, and no talent, as some may think.

Every piece brought from you is something you’re grateful for. Every like, share and comment you receive is something you treasure. And yet, when you see another artist garner more attention just because what they do is trendy, or because they have connections, you can’t stop the resentment from filling up your heart.

These days, your works can’t just speak for themselves. Art is becoming a game, a competition for who gets the most paintings bought from a show, or the most number of likes within a platform.

You hate the galleries. Most of the time, they’re boys’ clubs reserved for old, mediocre men whose swelling egos are easier to rile up than their dicks. They sell their paintings at ludicrous prices, market value inflated by the connections they have to the gallery and the pretentious bullshit they write in the descriptions.

You hate social media. You hate the algorithm, you hate how these online venues to share your work is geared in another’s favor. You’ve tried to play the game for so long, posting at peak hours and sharing your work shamelessly to your friends, but nothing seems to be working. 

You’re envious.

Envy is such an ugly thing.

Galleries rouse it within the small, unseen artist, whose talents are hidden due to their lack of privilege, their lack of name. Social media capitalizes on it, thriving on competition, the number game warping a person’s psyche and perception of their worth.

Curling up in a ball in your bed, you’ve contemplated countless times if playing the game is still worth it. You just can’t keep up anymore. Each stroke of your brush and glide of your pen had your soul weaved in them, and no one seems to appreciate that because it’s not something anyone can put a price tag on.

Sighing, you drag your feet to the convenience store to buy yourself dinner with what little money you have left.

Then you saw it, the fireworks.

Life turned upside down for you within the span of hours.

Weeks later, you’re in a place called the Beach and sitting as far away as possible from the pool, sketching away on your notebook, odd ends of paper sticking out from it. You’ve survived another harrowing game, and you’re trying to wind down with a nice sketch session.

In this world, there’s no galleries, no social media. There’s no people to impress or market yourself to; just survival. There’s no money to be earned to keep living in this world, just visa days. Days of worrying if anything you’d create is worthy of anyone’s attention is replaced by the need to keep forging forward. But still, to keep yourself sane, you carried around pencils and paper, drawing and sketching whatever your heart desired.

In this world, your art is just for your own consumption, entertainment, and respite. Instead of being the thing that kept you up at night, it became something that saved you from the madness of this world.

The blaring music stopped, sound abruptly cut off as the speakers crashed.

Aguni’s militants have arrived, it seems. Per the advice of another Beach resident, you’ve done your best to steer clear of them. Yet, you still couldn’t stop yourself from getting involved with one of them, the one with the tattoos on his face and all over his body.

The first time you saw him, you found his appearance striking. The facial tattoos he had made him look tiger-like, and the katana he carries around with him just adds to the dangerous air he had about him. The fact that he almost always wears his hood up and the fact that he barely speaks add to the mystery surrounding him.

You’ve learned that nobody, not even their chief, knows his true name. They just call him Last Boss, because he looks like the last boss of a videogame.

It started innocently enough. You sketched him on your notebook, tall and wiry stature contrasting with the flow of the loose clothing he wears. Then the sketches multiplied the more you saw him in the games, and in the Beach. You’ve drawn him wielding his sword and finishing an assailant off. You’ve drawn him squatting on the balcony railing, surveying the Beach during his patrols.

Last Boss had filled your sketchbook pages. He became your muse.

Maybe it’s because he stood out to you, or it’s the sheer, unapologetic boldness his tattoos have. Either way, you were intrigued by him. Sometimes, you swore he’d stare at you back, but as soon as you look at him again, he’s looking someplace else. The little game you played thrilled you, thighs rubbing together when you see him. You’d be lying if you said that you didn’t have impure thoughts about him; you’ve wondered just how much of his skin is covered by tattoos.

And yet, neither of you had spoken a word to each other.

It was your little secret.

But not for long.

In the lobby, you were heading back to your room after dinner to rest when you ran into one of the militants. He barked at you to watch where you’re going, and stomped away. The collision sent your notebook flying, paper scattering across the floor. Scrambling to collect them all, you crawled to find every single piece, only to bump into someone’s shins.

It’s your muse, Last Boss, and he’s found a page of your sketchbook.

“I- um, that’s mine. Thank you picking it up, I’d like to have it-”

The words left you when you realize that he’s looking at your sketch of him.

His eyes flick to you.

“Back.”

You gulped, unsure of how he would react to it. Wordlessly, he gives you back the piece of paper, and you nod at him, proceeding to pick up the rest of the pages. Embarrassed, you hurry back to the room you’ve occupied, and shut the door. Not like it would make a difference; all the locks are superglued, but it still provided you some relief.

A warm bath would be nice. It’ll definitely help melt the stress of today away.

Stripping, you entered the bathroom, soaping and rinsing the grime away as the tub filled with water. The splashing echoed in the room, and the bass pounded outside as the party raged on, making you deaf to other sounds that might register in your ears under quieter conditions.

You get in the tub, warm water soothing your sore muscles from the Spade game you participated in earlier, and your eyelids flutter shut. Engulfed by warmth, you drift off to sleep.

After an unknown amount of time, you awaken abruptly to the sound of footsteps in your room.

Quiet as a ghost, you listened carefully. The footsteps stopped, and springs creaking as a weight sat down on your bed followed after. After that, you hear the gentle rustle of paper.

As quietly as possible, you get out of the tub, reaching for a towel and wrapping it around your torso. Pushing the door open as slow as possible, you peer out of the bathroom to see who’s the intruder, and what you saw made your heart jump to your throat.

Last Boss is sitting at the edge of your bed, peering at your sketchbook. With uncharacteristic gentleness, he thumbs through the pages of the hardbound notebook, enthralled by the strokes you made on the paper. There were self-portraits, landscapes, portraits of people, figure drawing, and of course, some of them had him as the subject. Engrossed by the art, he doesn’t notice you.

Taking off the bathroom slippers, you walk barefoot, stepping out of the bathroom as quietly as possible. You were making good progress, inching away from the door, but your foot landed on a piece of paper, and you slipped.

With a thud, you land on your ass on the floor. The tattooed militant stands up abruptly, drawing his sword.

“Oh God, please don’t hurt me,” you yelp, one hand holding the towel around your chest into place, the other shielding yourself from him.

He sees you, then he lowers the sword, and tucks it away. Last Boss walks over, and you screw your eyes shut, but there was no pain that followed. His wiry fingers grasped your forearm and helped you get up.

“Thank you,” you whispered, averting his gaze. He towered over you, almost a full foot taller. You move to retrieve your sketchbook on the bed, but he doesn’t let you go. Gaze finally meeting his, you found yourself disarmed by the intensity of his eyes.

“W-what do you need?” you ask him, the tremble in your voice apparent. You’re still gauging his reactions. So far, he hasn’t done anything to hurt you, but he’s a militant. They don’t exactly have a track record for being gentle.

“You’re good. But you drew my tattoos wrong,” he finally speaks.

Eyes wide, you didn’t know how to respond, blurting out something incoherent. Then, you try to compose yourself. “Sorry. I never had the chance to look at you up close.”

“Would you like to?”

Breath hitching in your throat, you nod. “Let me just get dressed,” you say to him, but he still doesn’t let you go, eyes boring into yours. Behind his tattoos are delicate, handsome features that knocked the air out of your lungs. What stood out the most are his lips, small and well-formed, looking too soft for a man as dangerous as him.

Then you understood what he wanted.

Because you want it too.

You let go of the towel, leaving yourself exposed. But he stands there, frozen, as if he didn’t expect things to go his way.

Leaning in, you kiss him, wet body pushing against him, soaking his clothes. It started slow, and sweet, but then you experimentally dart your tongue out, and he lets out a low growl, opening his mouth to receive you.

It was sloppy and inexperienced, but the kiss hit the spot. You feel the fire pooling in your belly, pleasure shooting up your spine.

Throwing caution to the wind, you put your arms around him and his movements become more desperate, kneading and squeezing at your naked flesh, pawing greedily at every inch of skin he can get his hands on.

You toss your sketchbook to the bedside table and you hop on, pulling Last Boss with you.

Straddling him, you grind your hips against his, and he’s already hard under his trousers, making you smile against his lips as you kiss him more. Your hands guided his to your ass, and you pushed your chest against his face. Last Boss eagerly buries his face between the soft mounds of your breasts, and proceeds to latch on a nipple, hard from the cool night air.

You let out a soft moan, hands cradling his neck as he assaulted you with his lips and mouth. He unlatches from the nipple, then proceeds to leave kisses all over your neck.

Then, he lies back, and he pulls you over him, his head between your thighs.

“Are you sure?” you ask him, a little bashful because of his view of your body.

He nods, and he proceeds to lick your folds, making you gasp in pleasure.“Aim for the nub,” you instruct him with a soft voice, and he does as he says, licking at your clit with abandon. You rode his face as he licked you, movements sloppy.

Soon, you were reaching your peak and you braced yourself against the headboard. Thighs quivering, you came with a cry, riding his face as you climaxed, tits bouncing as your body shook.

As you come down from your high, abruptly, Last Boss flips you over, and now you’re underneath him.

“Don’t you want me to return the favor?” you ask him, smirking.

“Next time. I want you now,” he half-whispers, half-growls. The hard member pressing against you tells you that he’s serious.

You nod at him, and he proceeds to unfasten his belt, hands shaking from nervousness, or excitement, you didn’t know. It’s probably both.

He went in with a single thrust and you can’t hold back the cry that bubbled in your throat. Fortunately for you, you were wet enough for it not to hurt, but it still caught you off guard. He was slender, but that length… it made your toes curl.

Erratic and inexperienced, you had to guide him with his thrusts, and soon, Last Boss finds a steady rhythm, those penetrating eyes looking deep into you as you brushed the tattoo on his cheek with your thumb. You hook one ankle over his shoulder, and moan as the new angle allowed him to penetrate you deeper. Last Boss bottoms out, and he groans, rutting deep inside you.

You raise another ankle and pull him closer, and he’s pressed flush against you, hips desperately pounding away. The tattooed militant pins your arms above you and kisses you, tongues sliding against each other as filthy noises of your fucking filled the room. You suck on his earlobe, and whispers filthy, filthy things in his ear.

“You know, I’d been thinking about this for a while now,” you whisper, and he tilts his head.

“I always imagined you breaking into my room and just fucking me raw until I’m a mess,” you continue, and it seemed to spur him on, thrusts becoming more frantic as the seconds passed. “I’d never thought I’d get lucky tonight. Fuck, Last Boss, use me as you wish, I’m all yours!”

Last Boss didn’t need to be told twice. He fucked you at a brutal pace, sharp hips colliding with the soft skin of your thighs, and with a broken cry, you cum once again, your walls milking his cock.

“Please, please, fill me with your cum!” you cry as he continued.

It drove him over the edge. Soon after, he follows, coming with a loud groan. His body collapses on you, and he gives you another kiss, still sloppy, but it almost felt tender, something you didn’t expect from the sword-wielding militant.

The tattooed man lies next to you, and you curl into him, tracing his tattoos with your fingers.

“Can I look at more of your sketchbook tomorrow morning?” he asks, voice low and drowsy.

You smile, looking up to him. “Sure.”

Just when you’re about to drift to sleep, he speaks again. “Takatora. My name is Takatora.”

Smiling, you kiss his cheek, and say your name in return. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Last Boss is your muse. His attention, both to your body and your creations, is all you need.