#of pain and how it gets to that point was very stunning to me. it felt so real. seriously its hard to Not consider such a thing and its

[cent-scratchnsniff]

progressing through the myth of sisyphus again

[inkskinned]

most writing advice is good as long as you know why it is good, at which point it is also bad. the hardest thing (and most precious thing) about being an artist is that you gotta learn how to take critique. i don't mean "just shut up and accept that people hate your work," i mean you need to learn what the critique is saying and then figure out if it actually helps.

i usually tell people reading my work: "i'm collecting data, so everything is useful." i ask them where they put the book down, even though it's too long for most people to read in 1 sitting. i ask them what they thought of certain characters. i let them tell me it was really good but i like it more when they look a little stunned and say i forgot i was reading your book, which means they forgot i exist, which is very good news.

sometimes people i didn't ask will read my work and tell me i don't like it. and that is okay, you don't have to like it. but i look at the thing that they don't like and try to figure out if i care. i don't like that you don't capitalize. this one is common, and i have already thought about it. i do not care, it's because of chronic pain and frankly i like the little shape of small letters. you use teeth and ribs in all your work. actually that is very true. i don't know what's up with that. next time i will work to figure out a different word, thank you. you're whiny, go outside. someone said that to me recently and it made me laugh. i am on the whine-about-it website as an internet poet. you are in my native habitat, watching me perform a natural enrichment behavior. but i like the dip of whiny, how the word itself does "whine" (up/down, the sound out your nose on the y), but i don't know if i want to feel whiny. maybe next time i will work on it being melancholy, like what you would call a male writer's poetry.

repeated "good" advice clangs in a bell and doesn't hold a real shape, dilutes in the water. like sometimes you will hear "don't use said." you turn that around in your head and it bounces off the edges of your brain like it is a dvd screensaver. it isn't bad advice, but it feels wrong somehow, like saying easy choices are illegal! sometimes i will only use "said." sometimes i will just kick dialogue tags out to the trash. sometimes i make little love poems where the fact that i do not say "said" is very bad, and makes you feel bad in your body, because someone didn't say something. i am a contrary little shitbird, i guess.

but it is also good advice, actually. it is trying to say that "said" sometimes is clutter. it makes new writers think about the very-small words and very-small choices, because actually your work matters and wordchoice matters. "i know," you said. "i know," you sighed. "i know." we both know but neither of us use a dialogue tag, because we are in a contemporary lit piece.

it is too-small to say don't use said. but it is a big command, so it gets your attention. what are you relying on? what easy choices do you make? when you edit, do you choose the same thing? can you make a different choice? sometimes we need the blankness of said, how it slides into the background. sometimes we don't.

i usually say best advice is to read, but i also mean read books you don't like, because that will make you angry enough to write your own book. i also mean read good books, which will break your heart and remind you that you are a very small person and your voice is a seashell. i also mean you need to eat books because reading a book is a writer's version of studying.

my creative writing teacher in the 7th grade had a big red list of no! words and on it was SUNSET. RAZORS. LOVE. GALAXY. DEATH. BLOOD. PAIN. I liked that razor and love were tucked next to each other like birds, and found it funny that he believed we were too young to know the weight of razor in the context of pain. i hated him and his Grateful Dead belt, where the colored teddy bears held up his appraisal of us. i hated his no list. it is very good/bad advice. i wasn't old enough yet to know that when you are writing about death you are also writing about sunsets and when you write about love you are tucking yourself into a napkin that never stops folding.

back then my poetry was all bloody, dripped with agony when you picked it up. i didn't know there is nothing beautiful about a razor, nothing exciting about pain. i just understood sharpness, which he took to mean i understood nothing. i wrote the razor down and it wasn't easy, but it was necessary. that's what i'm saying - sometimes it's good advice, because it's not always necessary. and sometimes it is very bad advice, because writing about it is lifesaving.

hang on my dog was just having a nightmare. i heard that it is a rule not to write about dogs - in my creative writing mfa, my teacher rolled her eyes and said everyone writes a dead dog. the literature streets are littered in canine bodies. i watched the rise and fall of his ribs (there is that word again) and had to reach out and stop the bad dream. when he woke up he didn't recognize me, and he was afraid.

it is good/bad advice to say that poems and writing have to mean something. it is bad/good advice to say they're big feelings in small packages. it is better advice to say that when my dog saw where he was, he relaxed immediately, rubbed his face against me. someone on instagram would make fun of that moment by writing their "internet poetry" as a sentence that tumbles across a white page: outside it is sunset and my dog is still in a gutter, bleeding a galaxy out of his left paw. or maybe it would be: i woke the dog up/the dog forgot i loved him/and i saw the shape of a senseless/and impossible pain.

the dog is alive in this one, and he is happy. when i tell you i love you, i know what i said. write what you need to write, be gentle to yourself about it. the advice is only as good as far as it helps. the rest is just fencing. take stock of the boundaries, and then break them. there's always somewhere else you could be growing.

i love you, keep going.

[itachiiwrites]

𐙚 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄¡!

cw. 18+ flithy smut, Sub!Gojo, Dom!Reader, Enemies to lovers, gojo is a virgin and the word loser is used a lot.

AcademicRival!Satoru believed he'll have a merry time getting paired with you for your upcoming assignment, afterall, you were fun to pick on and he adored the way the vein would pop on your forehead after he says something to completely throw you off the tracks. His plan was to make you do all the work while he gets on your nerves to pass his time.

Satoru prides himself in being jack of all trades, he's the captain of the collegiate basketball team, student body president, has 4.0 GPA in his astrophysics major and is on the dean's list, his stunning good looks were to kill for and to add to those never ending positive attributes he's filthy rich, if it wasn't so obvious by his sports car's raging engine whenever he drifts it around in the campus. Gojo Satoru was a star. Gojo Satoru was game.

Admirers and people lining up for him was no big of a deal, it is the routine when you're him. You're one of the many people who find him fascinating, find him attractive (which was something you would never admit to, even if a ceiling fell over you) but still, why was he shaking his legs underneath the table while he watches the furrow of your brow focused on the screen in his dorm room? He's way too distracted to read this paper about Aesthetics and Marxism—he only took up sociology because it was a humanities requirement within his course and also because he was utterly, out of his mind bored.

Feeling the burning gaze of his abnormally blue eyes, you slam your fist onto the table and anyone who was in their right mind would be able to decipher that your expression was twisted in unfiltered annoyance, the mask of a small, pleasant smile as your veins popped on your forehead was failing miserably. "We could get a lot done if you didn't think this was a staring contest"

"Wow, really? I did think it was a staring contest with how boring all this is" He mocked knowing it would only agitate you further, his eyes shamelessly trailed over the plushness of your thighs and how the skirt fabric sat on top of it, his thoughts were digressing, wondering about the colour of your pant—

"What are you looking at, pervert..?" You point it out to break the unholy chain of his thoughts immediately, his eyes widened by being caught off-guard, evading away to focus on the papers in front of him, lasering his eyes to aim at understand at whatever 'Russian constructivism' meant, his fist gripped the pencil tighter and tighter as he felt unbelievably panicked at being caught, the trance of embarrassment breaking away along with a sharp 'snap' of the pencil.

With a faltering attempt to maintain his cockiness, Satoru looked at you. "Just looking at how much of a loser you look, even broke a pencil because it's annoying how nerdy you dress" a painful roll of his eyes followed by, but his ventures to cover the way he felt were too poor and what was the parameter? The goddamned seductive smile on your pretty lips.

Gojo Satoru was game, but he was a fucking virgin.

"Lying is not going to save your ass, I can literally see the tent in your pants, what are you..a teenager..?" The mockery in your eyes and the superiority you had over him in that very moment was enough to make him let go of his guards and feel his knees buck. You were beautiful and he was so pathetically down bad for that.

"Unlike you, I have many things to excel at..who has time for something as stupid as this anyway" You had to give some kudos for the fact that his voice remained balanced despite the throbbing erection in his pants, and you made a face with slanting pursed lips that was to show him you believed him, although anyone could tell you didn't.

"what is with that face? You think you're better than me? What do you know about sex, having your cute nose burried in those stupid books all day.." And that statement makes you raise your brow, Satoru Gojo, called you cute? This was something, this was when he knew he messed up and you had all the power.

"Why don't I show it to you then? You wanna be a loser in this one area? Come on.. you're better than that, right?" Satoru gulped, the offer was beyond tempting, all those fantasies he ran his mind for while wrapping his hand around his cock in his dark dorm room, relieving himself while yearning for the warmth for your mouth and cunt—finally had the chance to be fleshed out to life. It was tempting indeed but what about his ego?

"Sure, I bet you suck at this too" He huffed a laugh with his faux confidence, only to be miserably proved wrong within a few minutes.

"Please— fuck! Your mouth feels so good.." He breathed heavily with an almost violent rise and fall of his chest, his legs sprawled wide as he was on the couch of his room and you, his beautiful arch-nemesis was skillfully using his cock like it was your personal toy. Satoru didn't feel he was being sucked off for his pleasure, he was being sucked off to be proven of the fact that you were in control here.

He reached his trembling hands to tangle within your locks as you let a thick glob of your spit fall onto his tip with a grin, tantalisingly rubbing it on your glossed lips. "Better than your stupid fist right?" And he moans at that degradation, his eyes marbeling with glassy tears, your pride swelled more than anything.

"Ever seen tits in real life? Or are you that much of a loser to have Inoue Waka as your wallpaper.." You teased further, unbuttoning your blouse and unfastening your bra from the front to spill out your breasts and Satoru's brain simply short circuits the moment the cushiness of your tits gather around his cock and he feels the tightening sting on his abdomen, dripping out loads of his cum onto your tits, painting you like the masterpiece you were with thick ribbons of his ejaculate.

You hum, licking a long strip from his base, swirling your hot tongue around his softening, sensitive frenum as he is limp by the pleasure.

"There's no way you're this good.." He spoke, almost sounding as if something unbelievable happened, almost angry.

"Such a good boy 'Toru.." You giggle in response, kissing his abdomen and he feels pathetically, helplessly in love with you.

Gojo Satoru was game, but you were a roulette.

[rileyslibrary]

Ghost is shocked by your immunity to being tased.

I received an ask from an anon for this story. Unfortunately, either Tumblr ate it, or I accidentally deleted it; I can’t be sure because I trust neither of us. Gladly, I remember the gist of it. I hope that anon sees it. (Sorry, anon, and thank you for the ask.)

———————————————————————

You push open the workshop door, and notice a curated display of taser gear spread across the table for today’s training session. Ghost, your lieutenant and trainer for the day, occupies a corner, busy with extracting all sorts of stuff—taser guns, pulses, stun batons—from bags and placing them on the table. He catches the sound of your entrance and turns halfway to face you.

“You’re early,” he mutters under his breath.

“I just couldn’t wait, Lieutenant,” you reply sarcastically.

He huffs. “We’ll see about that once training’s over.”

You approach the table, and look at the equipment. You reach out and grasp a taser gun. It looks exactly like a pistol but bulkier and has yellow elements to distinguish it from firearms.

“Could you please remind me how this baby works?” you ask.

He turns his entire body towards you and contemplates your question. Although the training session is just half an hour away, and he doesn’t technically need to explain anything, you’re his weak spot. So he leaves the gear in the bag, walks towards you, and begins to give you a detailed explanation.

It almost feels like a private session, but you have ulterior motives—you’ve already been through a similar class in the past and are eager to skip this one. Despite your repeated attempts to convey this to Ghost, he remained adamant that this course would be a refresher for you and, thus, necessary.

“Once you have a clear shot, you press the trigger.” He concludes.

“Like this?” you ask, directing the taser towards your right foot and squeezing the trigger. It stings, but your previous training has taught you how to get used to the feeling and handle the pain better. Or at least make it look that way.

Your poor lieutenant stands speechless as he looks at the now-fired taser gun. He slowly looks down, where his shocked eyes trace the two wires extending from the device, connecting to your foot.

“What the fuck did you do?” he shouts, gesturing towards your leg.

“Jeez, Lt., you seem stunned,” you comment.

“Are you having a laugh, soldier?” He scolds you with as much authority as he has left from what he just experienced. He drops to the ground, working to remove the wires from your foot. He stands up, alternating his gaze between the device and your leg. Finally, he turns to you.

“How come you’re not in pain?” he asks, confused.

You shrug, unaffected, and pick up another taser from the table. “Maybe the first one was defective; let’s give this one a go,” you suggest, aiming at your other foot and firing.

“Are you out of your mind, Y/N?” he screams in a high-pitched voice and kneels again to retrieve the second taser from your foot.

“Come on, Lt., it’s not as bad as it seems!” You reassure him with a grin, seizing a third taser from the table. This time, you point it at Ghost’s leg. “Wanna see?”

He lifts his knee and gathers his arms close to his body. He looks like a pitcher, ready to throw the ball in a baseball match.

“No, no, thank you very much”, he protests.

“Sure?” You ask and aim at his other leg on the ground.

“Absolutely certain, you maniac,” he says, switching legs. “How far are you willing to go to skip this class?!”

“Not too far,” you reply with a smile, “as far as these two wires go when they get propelled from the taser gun.”

“Cut it out!”

To his relief, the rest of the team enters the room, and Ghost instantly transitions into his authoritative persona. He places both feet on the ground, protrudes his chest, and places both hands on his waist. He clears his throat.

“Take your positions, everyone,” he commands, “everyone except for you, Y/N.”

“Why am I excluded, Lieutenant?” you ask with a pout and a playful wink. “Is it because I’m unfazed?”

“Nah, soldier,” he replies and walks behind you to tidy the wires from the already-shot taser guns, “it’s because you’re a live wire—always keeping me on my toes.”

———————————————————————

[blackbirdsblackberries]

I Hate The New Hero

Pt 2: A spider's nest is different to a bird's.

You exit the school building with two of your friends; Sherri Webster and Tia Hunt. You see Timothy leaning against the wall to the exit of the school building and you can't help but scoff, does he not have a life or friends?

Okay, judging by how the polls are going now, this one is winning!! I'll post the second part of Don't Drink The Kool-Aid soon (possibly tomorrow or the day afterwards). Don't be afraid to send in asks and such regarding anything! I love answering them and doing side stories/headcannons for this series or other series of mine!

The day rolls by painfully slow. How could it not when you're going to invite someone, who you're pretty sure would throw you to the wolves for a dollar, into your shitty apartment?

Tia notices your gaze and chuckles, you had already told them both about Tim and the project, they laughed and made fun of you - you'll get back at them.

Sherri pats me back "If you don't come back to school tomorrow we'll let the police know he probably murdered you!" Tia laughs at that and I grumble and elbow Sherri.

"Oh shut up! God, you're insufferable!"

"And you're about to be dead!"

"Oh please, no one in Gotham stays dead these days!"

"I'll make sure you do!"

Tia interrupts before the minor spat ends in the two forgetting Timothy is there - now looking at the three with the very hatred you'd give to your parent's murderers.

"Can you guys fight later? In the group chat maybe? I'm starving and want to go home - private school food tastes like shit." Sherri sighs but agrees and the two wave goodbye before leaving you.

You wave and after a bit of awkward silence you glance at Timothy who is now staring daggers at you, his eyes are calculating but aren't narrowed - like a feral wolf analysing it's target. You hold back a sigh as you raise a brow.

You make a hand motion for him to follow you and you start to walk along the path to your amazing, beautiful, posh, cool apartment that in no way is flawed.

The walk is silent and painful, at this point your willing to bust out the charms and joke with him but you're scared he's going to smash your head into the concrete as soon as you make a joke.

You walk past a poster that was hung up regarding the heroes of Gotham, Aranea is near the center hanging to the side of a wall. You scowl at it - the picture was bad and didn't flatter you at all.

Timothy catches your scowl and makes a show of rolling his eyes and typing something on his phone. You can't hold back any longer.

"What? You grading me or something? Speak the fuck up if you have a problem, Richy Rich." You sneer as you say the last part, he snaps his head up at you in offense.

"Oh, you want me to speak up?! Fine, you're a selfish brat who's got parents that fawn over you and you never lacked anything in your life yet you go after some sweet innocent girl who would a hundred percent save you if you needed it. Aranea is one of the best people in Gotham and it's disgusting that you are so rude to her!" Timothy rants. You can't help but raise a brow, you want to laugh so hard - the irony is right there.

Instead you roll your eyes "You hate me because I hate someone you fangirl over? How pathetic. Hate me for a real reason!" You try not to smirk when you see Timothy try to take deep breaths and calm down.

"... Let's just get to your apartment already." He states as he continues walking, you raise a brow. "Wrong way." He turns around and follows you silently.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Finally you stop in front of your stunning apartment. Out of the corner of your eye you see Tim raise a brow.

"How'd you get into a private school if your parents can't even afford an apartment building that doesn't look like it's had ten different crime scenes this week?"

You deadpan, ouch man...

"I got in through an engineering scholarship." You reply blandly, no point in spilling your emotions and true personality to a person like Timothy.

Timothy doesn't say anything else and you take that as the conversation ending and lead him into the complex and to the apartment you reside in.

It's home and you wouldn't want anything different. The plants are dead, there's a leaky tap, the clock that's stuck on the wall ticks annoyingly, there's a small spider making it's home in one of the corners and all the furniture looks one kick away from dust.

Your parents don't have much time to clean...

You look at Timothy out of the corner of your eye, despite loving where you live you know people will judge and Tim will probably use this against you some time in the future.

.............................................................................................

Tim's confused. You had always exuded "rich spoilt brat" behavior and seemed so stuck up yet live in actual filth? On top of that you got into Gotham Academy on a scholarship? Do high schools even do scholarships? It doesn't make sense.

Tim's not an idiot, he knows he's being petty but at the same time he can't bring himself to stop. Aranea is one of the kindest people he's met in Gotham, a saint, an innocent person who deserves a good life.

Yet, you hate her guts, you say awful things about her despite not even meeting her - or maybe you did, either way there's no reason for you to be acting like this.

Tim isn't petty, he won't use your living situation against you but the scholarship thing can be.. a small post can ultimately cause ridicule in the school.

He blinks a couple times, not noticing how he's already in a cramped bedroom - it's the size of a supply closet in the manor!

There's a bed in the corner, a window that's curtained up, a closet, a toy chest and a pile of sketch books that reaches halfway up the bedframe. It's cozy he supposes - for a sewer rat at least.

You mumble something about getting food before leaving the room. Seems you have some smarts and etiquette.

His phone buzzes and he looks down at the Gotham Vigilante Group Chat (GVGC), it's a message from Aranea.

Aranea: "Heyyyy!! I won't be able to go on patrol tonight, my mama wants to go out for dinner :("

Tim sighs, that's good. He can't go because of the stupid project so it seems he won't have to get horrendously teased for missing out on hanging with Aranea.

Tim's phone buzzes again and it's Bruce.

Bruce: "Message if (Reader) does anything sketchy. You can't trust someone so hateful."

Way to state the obvious. Tim already had multiple plans in case you did something.

He pockets his phone after responding with a thumbs up and he sits down, on the floor - assuming that's where they'll work.

.............................................................................................

Soon you come back with snacks in hand and had changed into more comfortable clothes - they were your dad's because in no way were you going to show Timothy your sense of style.

The clothes consisted of cargo shorts that were grossly oversized and tied with some shoelace to stop them from falling and an oversized shirt with the image of Garfield on it.

You raise a brow at where Timothy is sitting.

"Uh, why are you sitting on the floor?"

"That's where we'll work. Why?"

You think you're ready to go cry in a corner out of frustration.

"I have a bed."

"okay? I doubt it can even fit the both of us."

... Okay, that's true. Still, even if you hated him your parents didn't raise you to be rude to guests.

"Fine. You sit on the bed and I'll kneel on the floor."

You watch as his eyes widen, not expecting that response. You push him to stand up and make him sit on the bed before plopping down and taking a big sketchbook and flipping to the back of it.

"Okay, let's get started." You mumble, more so to yourself.

You two spend the next three to four hours researching, drawing things and writing down dates. By the end of it your tired and just want to sleep. It would have been done sooner if there wasn't an argument that caused you to storm out of the apartment and pace the halls and if Tim didn't leave to the halls to answer a call but at least it's over with.

You rest your head against your bed, you're still on the floor and more than content staying there, you doubt your body will even allow you to move.

Slowly your eyes close and you drift off to sleep.

[luimagines]

Maybe a scenario where the chain is female hero's Era and they meet her era's link which is her little brother of like 6 and she confesses that the quest was actually for him.

LITTLE LINK!?!!?!?!? MY LOVE, MY LIFE, MY SON!?!? ABSOLUTELY!!!! XD

Everybody get ready for more Lucky. I will never have enough of this boy. ^.^*

Side note: Reader is written as Gender Neutral per the rules of the blog, but this isn't really about them anyway. :D

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

"Just a little closer." You say under your breath as you push aside the surrounding foliage. You step into a well beaten path. there's roots sticking out of it and the dirt is bare and dry, but you know that it's safe to travel along and that it'll take you straight to your destination.

"We've been walking for hours." Legend groans. "Are we there yet?"

"Almost." You hold the branch open for the others to pass through.

"This Link of yours must be a pain in neck to get to if his lives this far out into the middle of nowhere." Hyrule spits out a leaf.

You snort, keeping it vague for the sake of keeping him safe. They'll know the truth soon enough and frankly, you're scared to see the aftermath. "It's just up the path."

"Finally!"

"Come on! Let's go!" Wind cheers and takes off running, following swiftly by Wild, Wolfie and Four.

You try to keep a leisurely pace, knowing you're going to need all the energy you can reserve for when you arrive. You want to run just as much as the others, but you know better.

Time seems to have caught on and gently smacks your shoulder. "You never said how you happened to meet him."

"I didn't?" You smile, playing it coy. "Strange."

"This is it?" Four asks with a skeptical look.

Just beyond the hill is a run down cottage. There's holes in the roof and the fence is broken in many areas. The forest and meadows around it are about to over take the small house and return the woods of its skeleton back to where they came from.

You try to hold back a bitter smile and the way your heart swells at the familiar sight. You pat Four on the shoulder and keep walking towards the cottage. Putting your fingers to your mouth, you let out a shrill whistle and keep walking.

A beat passes, setting the young men behind you on edge before the door of the cottage all but bursts open. You can feel some of the boys reach for their weapons but they hesitate when you start hollering in excitement.

Your calls are answered back by a small body that comes running out of the cottage at full speed. It comes out like a shot and b-lines for you with the intent to tackle. You catch the familiar mop of blond hair and laugh, peppering the small boy with kisses and tickles.

The group behind you is stunned.

"Bubbah! You're home! You're home!" The child cries.

You smile, getting a little teary as you hold the child closer. "I get to stay for a little bit this time before I travel again. I wanted you to meet some friends of mine. They've been very excited to meet you."

The little boy looks over your shoulder and gasp, a bright grin covering his face. "New people! Hello! Welcome to my house!"

You set him down with a proud smile as he runs to the Chain. He stops in front of them, holding his hand out like the polite gentleman he's growing up to be. "My name is Link, what's yours?"

Twilight bites the bullet and kneels to his level, shaking his hand. "Why- My name is Link too! It's great to meet you!"

You sighs and look back to the house. Your grandmother must still be inside. Age has not been kind to her.

The introductions are going on behind as your brother gets more and more amused that they all share the same name. He laughs, bright and joyfully and still the child you've fought so hard to keep. "No wonder you wanted to meet me too!"

"Yeah.... That's why." Legend clenches his jaw in a tight smile. He catches it quickly, the mark of the Triforce of Courage already on his little hand. Legend points to his hand to show that he has the same mark. "You have that too?"

Link, your brother, nods and proudly shows it off. "Bubbah says it's because I'm special. They had to leave home after it showed up though. They saved me from the monsters and told me to take care of grandma."

"Then I'm sure you're doing an incredible job." Time says gently. "That mark is special. I'm sure your grandma is very proud."

Warrior makes it a point to step aside, roughly grabbing your arm as he speaks in a hushed voice. "What is the meaning of this?"

"This is my home." You try to keep the growl out of your voice. "Link is my brother."

"Tell me you're joking."

"I wouldn't be the one traveling with you if I was."

"Bubbah!" Link calls for your attention. "Can they stay for dinner?!"

You slap a grin onto your face and wave back to him. "That was the plan, short stack! You mind going to tell grandma we have company?"

"Oh yeah!" He grins and runs back to the house right as your grandmother has reached the door. She sees you and sighs of relief that you've returned safe and sound.

You wave from where you are and blow her a kiss. You try not to look at the other boys around you.

You can feel them staring holes into you head as it is.

This is going to be a long story.

[cornerstoreclown]

So happy to see you’re back, we missed you!🫶

How about reader cleaning those nasty teeth for him? Given he’d allowed it-😉

Consider it done. Gender neutral reader x Art, trying to brush this man's teeth.

---------------------------

This is the third time he’s shoved you off his lap. For the past five minutes, you’ve been fighting the Miles County Clown with sheer determination, spite, and a toothbrush. Who was winning at this point, you weren’t sure. What started off as a simple ambush when he was sitting on the couch watching your TV became a failed plan within seconds the very instant he caught wind of what you were trying to accomplish. 

There were three truths that could coexist peacefully: 

The first one was that you loved this stupid clown. The second truth was that he was fucking disgusting and often smelled like he came out of the goddamn city sewers, and god have mercy on your soul if you caught a whiff of his breath after he finished eating something–or someone. And the third truth follows on the tails of the second one…

Which is that your standards are absolute dogshit. The bar is in hell! Literally in this case, considering WHO you’re dealing with.

Absolutely no way in hell that anyone else in the entire world would be able to get away with this. No one. They’d get a free lobotomy with how far that toothbrush would be jammed up their nose. You’re actually surprised that he’s not yet gotten up out of his seat, but you did catch him at a time where one of his favorite shows was on. That was all a part of your grand scheme. 

You’re back in his lap again, toothbrush with a little bit of toothpaste still somehow miraculously attached to the bristles.

He moves his head away from you again, like a defiant child, and he’s starting to wear down your patience and piss you off. 

“Art.” You firmly tell him, trying to get this brush near his face, and so far, the closest you’ve gotten is within a few inches of his mouth. You use your free hand to try and tilt his head back to keep him from moving, leaving him to respond in turn with a scowl, baring his teeth in the form of a threat. 

Which was fine for you. 

With enough dexterity, you manage to get a few brushes in on the top row of his teeth, feeling a bit of satisfaction until he elbows you in the face and then pushes your head away so you can’t see.

“Fucker!” You say through grit teeth. “Art, come ON! Let me HELP you!” 

You don’t feel the pain when he hits you in the face. Anger and frustration run deep in your veins now, guided by nothing but pure adrenaline as you’re both locked in battle with each other, pushing at the other. You both look like siblings at this point. That’s about how it fucking felt. 

You fight against him pushing your head away, and catch a glimpse of a horrid sight–

His gums are bleeding.

His teeth are coated in blood. 

You knew that his oral hygiene was bad, but you didn’t know how bad, and it becomes apparent to you that everything was way worse than you thought. 

Then he stuns you, zigging when you were expecting him to zag as he switches it up, grabbing your wrists and staring you right in the face, his snarl twisting into a smile. You don’t get a chance to react.

Well, you sort of did.

“Art–” 

You’re cut off as he presses his lips to yours, forcefully kissing you and sloppily giving you the nastiest fucking makeout ever. His tongue pushes past your mouth and goes in, shamelessly sharing whatever taste he had leftover from the mystery dinner he ate the night before, but not without the sharp taste of iron from his bleeding gums first. You gag, the pungent taste hitting your tongue, leaving you to immediately try to back up off of him, and he helps you further by once again shoving you off, this time flinging you to the floor at the foot of the couch.

The toothbrush, your so-called weapon of the day, has been dropped and rolled away from where you landed flat on your back. 

Art wasn’t having it. The show he had been hoping to watch tonight? Ruined, as he gets up off the couch and leaves you on the ground. He had half a mind to kick you in the side on the way out. 

You’ll just have to try again some other time. Maybe.

[fartcushion]

The Fart Room

When your gym crush invited you to a party he was throwing that evening you were ecstatic. You weren't even able toplay it cool, instead eagerly accepting.

He smiled at your enthusiasm and told you to be there for 19:00, and gave you his address.

Not only were you going to get to spend time with the guy you would secretly check out, but he said it was going to be attended by other guys from the gym so you figured it'd be a good chance to befriend them. Maybe get some tips on how they got in such greatshape.

*

You rocked up on time, you thought of being fashionably late after seeming too eager earlier. Butdidn't want to risk looking rude,

He opened the door with a smile when he saw itwas you

"Great you're here, come on in"

You entered his home, trying to make friendlyconversation as you kicked off your shoes. Listeningout you couldn't hear any music or any chatter.

"Am I the first to arrive?" It'd be a bit awkward, but at least you could meet each person as they came.

"Yeh, needed to get you in position before myguests arrived".

You paused, confused. "I'm sorry, what do you mean get me in position...and you mean 'other'guests?""

"What? No, mate. This is for my mates at the gym, you know, real builders. Not little guys like you. I mean other than you perving on me we have like no interaction. I invited you here to do us a service."

The amount of revelation stunned you. The admission he knew you oggled him, on top of the insults.

"What service?"

"Here let me show you".

He opened the door to a cupboard under the stairs,and gestured for you to take a look. Leaning in you could see that inside was a large cut out space. Big enough to stand on the end nearest the door, and on the other end, space to sit/kneel. What was more concerning was on the low end there was what looked to be a collar chained to the wall.

It was at this moment you were very aware of the muscular man stood behind you. Blocking your exit.A man you knew nothing about and willingly had entered his home.

"See we get together a lot and we learned early that when you get a lot of gym bros together there's a rather unpleasant smely issue. You know what it's like with all that protein. Wrecks havock on our guts and the farts are toxic. You can only hold them in for so long before it becomes uncomfortable. So for everyone to be able to party in comfort, but not stink out the place, we came up with a solution. The Fart Room".

Using his imposing size he started to push you into the cupboard.

We get some eager little guy from the gym, invite them round and put them in here. As the night goes on people need to use this room more and more.Y'know, the build up of protein shakes, broccoli and chicken diets and the beers at the party. They come in, let rip, and that nights recruit sniffs it all up".

By now you're fully in the room, being slowly pushed further back. You had to start crouching to avoid the ceiling.

"That's sick! Just go outside".

He rolled his eyes, annoyed at you wasting time. It's cold outside, can't keep opening doors to fart, everyone would freeze. Come the summer, we're all out there and don't want the wind blowing our wind back at us. This solution works all year round"

"Then just fart in here without a victim!" At this point your head smacked into the ceiling, the pain forcing you to drop down to your knees, where he loomed over you.

"Sorry, can't. The smell builds up and by the end we stink when we leave having marinated in it, and the gas escapes when you open the door. That's where you come in. You'll breathe it all up. It's better if you take it right from the source, to avoid it lingering. Best you do a good job from the start as well; as we get more drunk, we get a bit more aggressive with making sure we don't smell it; and will force your face in our cracks. He leaned down, reaching past you and picked up the collar.

"Sometimes people arent willing or try to escape. That's where this comes in". He held the collar to your face. "Will you need it? Or are you one of those fags that get off on this?"

"Please, l just want to go home".

"I don't care. Look, alone I can overpower you and chain you up. If you make me do that, l'l tell each guy to not go easy on you, and they 'll be rough. We're talking aggressively roided up blokes only too happy to let off some steam. Once the lock goes on you'll be at their mercy. So I would suggest you choose this". With that he unbuckled the collar and without protest put it tight around your neck.

"That's a good little fart filter. Now let's practice before the party starts".

He stands up, turns around, and lowers his shorts revealing his large muscular cheeks. Immediately you're hit with a sour pungent smell. Clearly if he did shower after the gym that day, he skipped cleaning his ass. Gently pivoting his hips his ass jutted out, inches from your face. Inviting you to come closer. You leaned in and as you felt his warm skin you were hit by the first fart.

BBBBBMMMMFFFF

It was quick, but loud and deep. The smell was as bad as he'd warned. You could smell the veggies he'd been eating. The surprise and stink made you instinctively pull away. Causing you to hit your head again in the tight space you were crouched in.

"Best get used to it, or if you keep flinching like that you'll leave here with brain damage. Though then again, maybe wouldn't be a bad thing, hit your head enough maybe you'll get amnesia and this can become a permanent set up. Would faggy like that?" He laughed as he wriggled his ass in front of you.

You didn't answer, so to fill the silence he let out a long rip.

BBBBBBBRRRRRRPPPPPPP

"Sniff that up, quickly, I'm get a hint of it up here"

To avoid any repercussions you leant back forward and sniffed the air vigorously. Reaching as far as the tight chain would allow you to reach, the collar strangling you for the effort.

"That's better, I think you get your job. Oh, and you may have wondered about the towel hanging here.  Well, sometimes the farts get a bit. ..wet. We try not to judge each other, these supplements can do sll sorts to your body. So if a guy sharts a bit, just wait until he's finished and when he's gone wipe your face ready for the next visitor"

As if knowing you were about to try one more time to object and plead to be released, he let out a final fart into your open mouth. As you coughed and spluttered, trying not to focus on the taste on your tongue, there was a knock at the door.

"Oh, here we go! See you later Sniffer!"

And he left, closing the door.

[princessbrunette]

i don’t think i’ve ever talked about what it would be like to go on a first date with rafe, so let’s.

only five minutes late, but that’s okay — he had to talk himself out of doing a line. he wasn’t nervous, no — at this point in his life rafe knew he was the man. he carried that demeanour with him everywhere which is what attracted you to him in the first place. it’s just that it pained him to do all the regular courting business. he was proactive as he’d tell you a million times — and if he already knew he liked you, and wanted you to be his, a first date just felt redundant. in short, he wanted to skip all the small talk and jump right into a relationship. rafe was an impatient man.

he knew the game though, and as he did actually want you to stick around — he’d play it.

he’s very gentlemanly. opens doors, tells you that you look stunning, tries to be subtle about flashing the rolex on his wrist. it starts to actually feel fun for him. you make him want to impress you, and usually he doesn’t care what girls think of him.

he takes you somewhere with alcohol and small appetisers. no, he’s not a creep just trying to get you drunk — he just feels it gets things flowing that tad bit quicker. he’s not wrong, because the “and uh, would the pretty girl like a drink?” with that silly little smile works like a charm, and one glass of wine deep and you’re leaning on your hand, hanging onto his every word, staring through your lashes with what can only be described as lust. it’s not your fault — it’s the wine, and rafe is an incredibly good looking man.

he gets bolder as the night goes on, which is nice — you get to see him get more and more open. asking to see his rings leads to comparing hand sizes, which leads to rafe making a not so subtle comment about how much thicker his fingers are, which leads to playing with each others hands in the centre of the table as you continue to talk the evening away.

“people usually ask basic questions on dates, you know to get to know eachother.” you grin, glancing up from where your eyes were fixated on the way his gold ring glinted in the low light.

“oh like, your favourite colour or some shit?” he drawls with his own smirk, knowing you’re both beyond the small talk.

“mm, maybe something more fun. give me a hypothetical situation.” you giggle, teeth clamping down on your bottom lip to stifle it as he shifts in his seat thoughtfully, leaning closer.

“alright, uh…” he scratches his cheek before landing on something and leaning in. you’re expecting perhaps the ‘what would you bring to a desert island?’ question, or something of the sort — so your eyes practically bulge out of your head when he confidently croons out a “if i got you pregnant tonight on our first date, would you keep it?”

he likes watching you stutter and stammer trying to find an answer to something so absurd. you’re not offended, no — the wine fuelled arousal has taken you way past that. just shocked at how suddenly the gentleman mask dropped, even if it was just for a moment. he shrugs, in a friendly way as he leans back. “totally hypothetical. i like to ask the difficult questions, you know? keeps things interesting.”

“i think keeping it after the first date would probably be a bad idea.” you’re all shy about it, like despite knowing what you’re saying is right — you can’t help but doubt yourself. the first of many moments like that with rafe cameron. he licks his lips thoughtfully, like there’s anything else to consider.

“hm. yeah, no. smart girl.” he nods, rubbing a coarse thumb over the back of your knuckles which nearly causes you to forget the conversation. you think maybe he saw the way your eyes involuntarily fluttered at the touch because he chuckles, low in his chest.

“why, were you planning on running?” you tease and he stares at you for a moment, lips curled up like he knows something you don’t.

“running? you’re not gonna be able to shake me, trust that.” it comes out with a jokey tone, but the way he pauses to take a slow drink makes you believe there’s some truth to it.

he drives you home because he’s only had one drink, always on the ball — and helps you out the car on your drive. he says his goodbyes all close and touchy with two hands gripping your waist looming over you, talking all quiet. you’re the one that initiates the first kiss — wanting so badly to invite him inside, but you settle for a kiss because if you do you know you’ll end up on your back — and you can’t bring yourself to do that on the first date. so a kiss it is, but you don’t hold back on rubbing at his chest and arms, pressing your tits to him when he pulls you closer. he even notes how easy it was to make you let out the quietest moans just from a little kissing.

you’re the one who initiates the kiss, but he’s the first to put his tongue in your mouth, cupping the back of your head to hold you down and really get it in there. it’s taking you everything not to invite him in, panties soaked through — but you’re strong and choose to be dignified — staggering away on jelly legs as he smirks and wipes the gloss off his chin. he tells you he’ll text you, and he does. again, he knows how to play the game (and plus, he’s already obsessed.)

you would like to say that you wished things stayed like that, with rafe being gentlemanly for the most part and sweet — but you’d be lying. as rafe reveals his darkness to you, you fall harder and harder.

[hoshieeyewrinkles]

D o c t o r p a r k

Pairing: Doctor! Jay x Bimbo! Reader

Genre: smut

W.c: 2.5k

| Requested | Not proofread |

Tw warning: extreme humiliation, heavy degradation, anal sex, spanking, fingering, shoe humping, umm reader is put into a wedgie, Jay fingered her belly button 😭, Filth.

"I'm feeling a bit dizzy, Mr. Kim," you lamented, trying to evoke a sense of concern from your professor, who simply looked at you with skepticism. "I'm a bit concerned Miss.Y/n because you haven't been feeling well for the past few weeks. Maybe you should take the day off and ask your friends for notes." Your professor suggested the idea, and you reluctantly agreed, secretly rolling your eyes. In reality, you didn't actually have any dizziness or headaches. You just wanted an excuse to escape class and visit the nurse's office in hopes of catching a glimpse of the incredibly attractive Doctor Park, also known as Doctor Jay.

You have been on his tail since the past weeks, wanting to get into his pants than anything else. Though your plans have gone unsuccessful as he merely shrugged you off crushing your hopes in an instant. He was extremely stern and focused on his work. The university you were studying in was a prestigious one with strict protocols hiring the best lecturers, the best staff and the hottest doctor.

He was everything you ever wanted. He was smart, young, well-built and probably had a big dick too given by his attitude. Oh how you wished to feel his strong arms around your neck, keeping you in a chokehold.

There you were once again, waiting for him to notice you, in his office. With his white coat dangling by his chair, he was glancing through his phone. His well-fitting black shirt revealed his biceps, and he had his hair pulled back, his trousers ironed and his leather shoes lightly tapping the floor. You wished the floor was you instead. You were relieved that his nurse had taken a lunch break, but you found her annoying because of her privilege to always be around doctor Jay.

"Oh Miss.Y/n you again?" He questioned blankly, though the 'again' seemed a little emphasised. "Yes, doctor Park, I am feeling a little unwell." You responded in a soft tone, your voice coming across as seductive, as you had intended. Jay raised an eyebrow and slightly shook his head, his gaze drawn to your choice of outfit. A white mini skirt paired with a baby blue tube top. You were dressed in very little as usual, and his gaze was drawn to your sparkling headband and red nails, which would look stunning wrapped around his fat cock. He was fully aware of your intentions, but he could not afford to give in to them just yet.

"Miss.Y/n, you have come here three times this week. You already have a prescription from me for headache medication. Despite the fact that you showed no symptoms, you previously claimed to have a fever. What symptoms do you have now? Would you mind informing me, hm?" He inquired in the most casual tone. His tone already has your pussy throbbing. He was overconfident and a stuck-up asshole in the sexiest way possible.

"I feel some pain here, doctor." You said that, and then you moved over to the hospital bed and laid down next to his chair without asking. With a silent exhale, he looked up at you. Your top was dropping to expose your cleavage, and your skirt was perilously riding up to expose your soft mid-thighs.

"Where does it hurt, Miss Y/n?" He questioned unfazed, despite the fact that his mind was racing. You pouted slightly at his unaffected demeanour, your pink glossy lips tempting him to bite them. He was annoyed by the way you fluttered your eyes at him, acting as if you knew nothing about anything. It made him so angry that he wanted to rip off your pathetic excuse for clothes and rail you to the end. The thoughts which went through his mind every time he saw you would have him fired from the university, have his licence suspended.

"Here..." You pointed directly at your crotch, expecting him to be either flustered or disgusted. To your surprise, he smirked. "I understand what you are doing, Y/n," he said, shaking his head and dropping the honorific. He did not let you respond when he spoke again. "I must say, it is funny."

"What do you mean, doctor?" You asked innocently, but your heart raced as you wondered what he was thinking. "Nothing, are you sure your litte princess parts doesn't hurt because of taking the whole football team?" He questioned and your jaw dropped. He let out a snort at your expression "What? Am I lying?" His smirk widens when your face starts to turn red, burning in humiliation.

"Does your skirt length correspond to your level of comprehension? You dirty vulgar girl" He asked again degrading you. "Doctor....that's really mean of you! You are slut-shaming and y-you are insulting me." In reply, you stumbled over your words. "I'm not slut shaming you y/n. I'm simply stating out facts which I have heard around and which you have showed around me, how is that offensive, sweetheart?" He questioned amused, his cock twitched in his pants at the sight of your dumb expression. You were nothing but a dumb slut who could barely live her life without a cock. He noticed the way you rubbed your thighs together at the nickname he called you.

"The whole football team—hell, I do not even know their names, they did not sleep with me. Doctor Jay,how can you believe them?" You asked, your bottom lip quivering as you pouted at him. You were not so naive as to miss his taunts, but you were sick enough to take pleasure in the embarrassment he was causing you. Jay laughed because he thought you were cute and there were no rumours that you were sleeping with the whole football team. He made them up himself to see how smart you are, and you were clearly one of the dumbest girls he has ever met. Probably the sluttiest too.

Lucky for you, he loved sluts.

You did not have time to think when he lifted your skirt, revealing your drenched panties, which were stuck to your pussy lips. "I- Doctor Park, what the hell are you doing!" You yelled at him, attempting to push your skirt down, but he held it firmly between his fingers. "Stop pretending, baby; you have been doing this for weeks, trying to seduce me with your pathetic excuse of tops barely holding your saggy tits and these fucking skirts that keep getting shorter, coming to my office almost every day." He paused for a moment licking his lips at the sight of your soaked panties. "Did you enjoy the humiliation I put you through, y/n? it made your pussy throb, yeah?"

You let out a small moan and nodded desperately, letting your fake innocent demeanour slip as you grabbed his hand, which was holding the hem of your skirt and guiding it onto your cunt. "Please, Doctor Park, it hurts."

He chuckled in response, shaking his head slightly. "Well, as your doctor, I must investigate what is going on with you, princess." His eyes were filled with lust. He pushed his morality and principles to the back of his mind. Fuck, he needed your slutty pussy right now. It was the prettiest cunt he would ever see, and he was not going to pass up this opportunity to use you.

He removed his hand from your crotch and opened the drawer in front of him. You watched him with curiosity, desperate to get his fingers, mouth, and cock inside you right away. He shuffled through his belongings before reaching for a pair of white gloves and putting them on. Your eyes widened at his actions.

"Your little nasty pussy does not deserve to be touched by my bare hands." He spoke in a low deep voice earning a whine from you. "Fuck, look at those juices. You are such a shameless whore." You felt your insides twist at his tone change. He was such an unpredictable man with no filter, treating you in the most humiliating ways, which only made you want him more. You would let him do whatever he wanted with you. You were down bad for him.

Without any warning he inserted his gloved finger inside you, it went in so smoothly as you were completely drenched. "Are you enjoying this? How embarassing y/n, is this why you joined this university? To suck cocks? To have your little cunt pounded by everyone?" You didn't reply to any of his questions busy in pleasure be was giving you, letting out small whimpers. He added two more fingers, aggressively fingering you. The wet, gushing sounds filled the room: "Doctor Park... P-please. Want to feel your fingers." You begged, squirming around, getting closer to your high. He ignored your words and lifted your tube top above your stomach, exposing your belly button to him. "Would you like to be fucked there too?" He aggressively pushed his other hand's fingers inside your belly button. You give a squeak at the sensation, moaning like the whore you are.

Your cunt and belly button getting fingered by his thick fingers simultaneously, releasing waves of pleasures inside you. You were thrashing around uncontrollably, overcome with pleasure. "Calm down, slut. I'm just getting started. Turn around." He ordered and you complied feeling a bit disappointed that you didn't get to cum. "but I didn't..." He cut you off harshly after landing a slap on your pussy "Not everything is about you."

He stuck your underwear in a wedgie, and you winced at the burning sensation on your pussy lips. Without warning, he pulled the wedgie and snapped it back, causing you to let out a painful screech. "This is how dirty little girls like you deserve to be treated," he said before snapping the wedgie several more times. You thrashed around, biting your palm to muffle your voice. He eventually stopped his assault on your ass crack and removed your underwear. What further humiliated you was the way he held your underwear with just two fingers treating it like some dirty trash. "Put this drenched shit in your mouth so you'll keep your dumb mouth shut." He threw the underwear in your face, and you did as he said, shoving it inside your mouth. You could taste the sweetness of your juices inside your mouth.

You never knew being treated in such humiliating way would turn you on so much. "Fuck look at this ass" he grunted kneading the flesh in his gloved hands. His cock was about to burst through his trousers. He enjoyed treating you in this manner because that is what dumb little cock sluts like you deserve, constantly seducing people and putting their jobs in risk. You needed to be taught a lesson that would put you in your proper place.

He began spanking your ass harshly until you were numb, your moans muffled by your panties. "This. is. exactly what naughty girls like you deserve." He spat on your asshole making sure it's lubricated enough. "I have no intention of using your nasty pussy but this tight ass deserve to be pounded." He unbuckled his belt throwing it aside and letting his cock stand in all glory. You tried to turn back, to look at his cock but he smacked your ass again "Don't turn back. I don't wanna see your spit covered dirty face." He degraded you before lifting you by the stomach and placing you on your hands and knees.

He pushed his cock into your hole, letting out the most seductive moan that nearly made you cum. "Mhmm..." You let out a muffled moan, and despite the pain, you could not stop pushing back on his cock. He began to pound into you with great speed, his hips slamming into your bruised ass. The pain from the wedgie assault lingered, and him pushing his cock into your whole aggravated it.

"Messy dumb slut." He yanked your hair back, his hips moving with uncontrollable speed. "Fuck, this is what you wanted right? To be fucked by me? To be treated like nothing, you are truly shameful." His words kept pushing you to your edge. Jay bit his lip at your state, your plump ass looked so bruised. Your belly button was red from his assault. He felt all of his stress disappear as he fucked your ass. "Touch yourself for me, baby," he asked, and you began to rub your clit vigorously, feeling your high return, but before you could cum, he pulled out his cock and released himself over your ass. You took out the underwear from your mouth. "Doctor park, I couldn't cum." You whined, panting loudly. He didn't reply, taking his gloves out before disposing them into the trash can nearby.

"And? How is that my problem?" He asked cockily, sitting back in his chair, manspreading, his cock still out. "Doctor park that's not fair!" You yelled in frustration before crawling out of bed, landing on your knees. Jay bit his lip at your sight, you looked so desparate and filthy. "Suck my cock and make yourself cum, angel." He pushed his leather shoe on your clit. You immediately took his cock in your mouth slurping on it messy while grinding on his hoe. "You dirty insatiable girl!" He said chuckling at your messed up state pushing your mouth deeper onto his cock.

You were still grinding hard on his hoe, moaning on his cock and rubbing your covered breast against his leg. Lost in the blissful pleasure he was receiving from your sensual lips, he was letting out soft moans. You were truly like the wettest and the filthiest dream he ever had. You came on his shoe grinding like a whore and he pushed you back before spraying his cum on your top. You both took few minutes to catch your breath before he wore his pants back and glanced at your dumb state. "Get up." He gave the order, and you stumbled to your feet, drenched in sweat, saliva, and cum. "Pick your underwear and clean my shoe."

You obeyed his orders cleaning his shoe with your underwear "Wear them back." You were about to protest, but his one look stopped you, and you wore the dirty, completely drenched panties back. You felt so nasty yet so good. He pulled you onto his lap and pressed his lips against yours. You kissed him back, running your hand through his styled hair, messing it up. He patted your ass, breaking off the kiss. "You can rest on the bed while I bring you something to eat." He said, and you felt the heat rush back into your face as you nodded shyly. You laid back on the bed watching him collect his things. "Remember don't remove the underwear till your day ends, it will be a reminder for you to know what happens to naughty pretentious girls like you."

His words made you whine and nod submissively, "Perhaps I will use your little pussy next time, princess."

[fraugwinska]

Hey! Me again!

Could I get an Alastor x Female reader where she tells him she's pregnant, he's so stunned he thinks it a joke until she shows him the positive on the test and it shocks him to the core but after the initial shock he's overjoyed.

My dear jezebel <3 Thank you for being so patient! I took a few liberties from the ask, I really hope you don't mind! After a lot of rewrites and edits - I'm finally happy to share it with you! Thank you for the ask, my dearest! TW:Sickness&death-Light smut-Minors DNI-5.2k words

Autumn had always been your favorite season.

The most colorful of the four; from your bed you could always see various shades of red, orange, green and yellow, all mixed together to create a vibrant, warm impressionistic painting. Just looking at the bright shades outside had always made you smile.

There was also this peaceful ambiance around autumn that you could feel but not quite understand. Something so profound and yet ephemeral in a way.

"Should I close the window before I go?", Alice asked you, a sad smile on her face. Your favorite hospice nurse had spent her last shift before her holiday almost exclusively with you - somehow you both knew there wasn't much time left. The sickness that ate away at your body was unforgiving - you knew it was simply a matter of days now, and even that was generous. Alice must've sensed it, too.

"No, no.", you replied with a warm smile. "Leave it open. The night nurse can close it later."

Alice nodded, said her goodbyes and gave you a kiss on the head before exiting the room, carefully closing the heavy wooden door with a thud of painful finality. Breathing had become painful lately, but despite the sting you inhaled deeply, just to burn the smell of bristle leafs and warm wood into your memory. Right next to the memory of him.

Alastor.

Summoning him hadn't been easy, especially since you were bedridden and almost constantly monitored. Not only did you have to take special care of choosing the right night to be left unsupervised - you had to bribe Alice and make her believe it was her own idea to give you a few hours to be on your own, which you claimed to need desperately. The internet had been your biggest friend in the weeks before, preparing - you had used the time you had at your disposal to research on shady websites and occult forums who to summon, how to do the ritual and, in case he said no, which bargain to offer. And you chose Alastor.

It was the name that spoke to you the most - Unusual. Mature. Vintage. Mysterious. Powerful and yet gentle, in it's own way. 'Mans defender'. 'Avenger'. The more you read about him on dubious servers and obscure wiki's, the more you were sure it should be him. Still able to use your hands back then, in the chosen night you managed to follow all of the instructions perfectly, even while bound to your bed. When the living shadow appeared out of nowhere, twisting and contorting into the shape of a tall, handsome, dapper dressed demon, the tiny handheld radio you had in your hands slid from your weakened grip and your heart skipped a beat. As he stepped nearer, the perceived humanity of his appearance disappeared before your eyes - long, black fingers ending in red talons, small antlers sitting in between fluffy crimson-colored ears, razor-sharp teeth and blood-red irises shining with curiosity. He stopped just a foot away in front of your bed. As he began to talk, to introduce himself - as though being summoned by gravely sick human women were the norm - you stopped him with a raise of your hand, the action draining your already weakened body and mind.

"I know who you are. Alastor, the Radio Demon."

"My reputation precedes me, then!", he chimed, his voice pointed, melodic and so enchantingly and contradictorily full of life. His whole posture, his devious smile and the way his eyes glinted in the dim moonlight made it very clear that he was a dangerous creature, and yet, you felt strangely at ease.

"So, to what do I owe the pleasure of this summoning, my dear?"

You swallowed hard, knowing full well that if you wanted him to accept your deal, you needed to choose your words carefully.

"I... I am dying."

Alastor's grin twitched, but he said nothing, only tilted his head and waited for you to continue, hands folded behind his back.

"I've been sick my whole life, I...", you felt the need to explain, so that your offer wouldn't sound so... well, pitiful.

"Ever since I was born, I have been bound first to my crib, then to a bed, the hospital and now this hospice. I have never been allowed or even able to go to school, or make friends, or just... do things that children ought to do. Even though my life was always going to be short lived."

You could feel tears forming in your eyes, but blinked them away - you didn't want to cry in front of him, you felt pathetic as you were already. "I missed out on every milestone, every first experience a girl should have. First trip to a park, first day at school, first friend, first kiss, first... everything. And I'll miss out on so many more. I just want to have one normal thing, one 'first' before I die. One memory of a real and happy experience. Of something good."

"And what, pray tell, would that be?", he asked, a brow raised, his smile growing wider. He could probably hear the beating of your heart as you took a deep breath. This was it. Now or never.

"I want to lose my virginity."

The silence following your calmly stated confession was so thick that you could cut it with a knife. It took a while for Alastor to say something.

"Oh my, you really don't mince words, do you, darling?"

You shook your head.

"I have no time to waste. Every second counts."

"Believe me, little one, I'm quite... flattered that you'd go through the trouble of a summoning ritual for this... let's call it: venture. But... why me? Aren't there any men up here you would rather be with?"

"Have you looked at me?", you laughed bitterly. "I'm a sick, dying 20-something in a hospice bed. No man would ever so much as touch me. If I'd even get to meet anyone, since I can't get out of this bed anymore without a nurse. I have nothing to offer a partner anymore. No beauty, no future, not even money. I have only my soul. Please."

The last word came out as a whisper. Alastor's eyes glowed red in the growing darkness, his grin ever-present. He seemed to consider it for a moment, the sound of humming static the only sound in the room and you feared he might reject you.

"If I were to agree, would you truly be willing to pay the price for it? Your soul, darling, is a very precious thing. Do you know the implications of it's loss?"

You nodded.

"Yes. You can have it. It's not worth anything anyway."

Alastor stepped forward, his eyes locked with yours. He didn't sit down on the bed, instead he stood right beside you, bending over until his face was just inches from yours, the back of his hand lightly brushing your fringe out of your face. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, the scent of blood and something earthy, like wet soil or moss. He smelled like a forest in autumn.

"It is worth quite a bit, actually. More than you can imagine, I'd wager.", his voice was quiet, almost unfiltered and utterly beautiful. "But I can see you are dead set on it - Pardon the wordplay."

His sharp claw pressed into your skin, eliciting a gasp. He followed the curve of your cheek to your chin, lifting it to better access the side of your neck, just under your jaw. Your skin broke out in goosebumps because for the first time in your life, you felt a touch that was not clinical, not meant to treat you or wastefully bide you more time. This touch was gentle and purposeful. Sensual, maybe. A soft sigh escaped you against your will.

Alastor let out a hum that was not entirely unhappy, before bringing his face dangerously close to yours. You could feel the ends of his fluffy hair tickling your face, the tip of his nose lightly brushing against your skin.

"A happy memory, you say. One satisfying experience in return for your soul. I am certainly not usually known for my kindness, dear.", he muttered against the skin of your cheek, before turning towards your lips. So close. Your heart was beating as loud and as fast as it could, making you dizzy. "But I think we have ourselves a deal."

The golden hour has passed, turning bright orange light into fading blue to black. And the air was turning colder. The memory of that night was the only thing you thought about as you slowly felt death approaching.

The way his lips felt against your mouth, his tongue and the sweet taste he left on your lips that still lingered whenever you ran yours across them, recalling the sensation just once more. He had been gentle, patient, always asking and never assuming or forceful. He made sure you were comfortable before exploring you, careful in the places he touched, mindful in tasting you, praising you for the sounds you made. He allowed you to do your share of exploring, too, and although he wasn't human you found his body still wonderfully, beautifully male, no matter his thin, soft taupe fur and his many, shimmering scars. The memory of the moment when he had finally filled you, tender and slow, was as much sweet pain as it was blissful pleasure, and you found solace in his warmth and the steady, rhythmic pace of him moving inside you as you spilled his name, over and over again until he spent himself inside you, bodies deeply connected. It was hard for you to believe that all of it had been actually true, and not just one big fever dream your dying mind had cooked up to send you off gently when Alice woke you from your sleep later that night, wondering aloud why you didn't turn off the little, handheld radio on the floor that was still playing soft jazz music.

But the little, red and blue marks on your collarbones and the one red-and-black strand of hair you had found on your pillow were telltale signs that everything had been indeed real, and you made sure every detail was etched into your heart, into your body and into your skin. It was, and would remain forever, the happiest moment of your entire life.

'I hope my soul is worth enough...' you thought as the coldness finally embraced you, tears running freely down your cheeks now, but the smile on your face was wide and warm, and the last thing you heard before falling into your final sleep was the gentle hum of a breeze that brought in the smell of earth and rain and leaves.

Alastor had no need for sleep. He usually didn't spend his nights sitting in his favorite chair, motionless, listening to music. He was far too busy, too full of life and plans and energy to sit around and just wait for morning. And yet, there he was, sitting and brooding for the last month, every night, his ears tuned in on the low, static-y noise coming from the old-fashioned radio he was holding. A radio eerily similar to hers.

'How did it come to this?', he wondered for the thousandth time, like a broken record. 'Why did I do it?'

He couldn't fathom the reason for his actions that night, why he had given in to the strange, frivolous request of the frail young woman. Why he had agreed to take her virginity, of all things, in exchange for her soul. Granted, she wasn't the first to offer him that, not by far. But usually, the soul was the last thing a sinner offered, after a great many things of lesser value had been already offered and declined in return. It was, in essence, the most desperate measure, taken only by those who had nothing else to lose.

And yet, she had promised him her soul in the very beginning, treating it not as a valuable bargaining chip, but as an expendable object. A thing without use or worth. He didn't know what had intrigued him so much that night. She had been sickly and fragile, her skin almost translucent in the pale light, and yet there was a spark in her eye. Determination, maybe. Her voice had been strong, if quiet, and her smile, although sad, was still familiarly bright. The way she spoke and her body language had made it clear that she had been not as much afraid of him, despite her frail and vulnerable position, as she had been anxious about his response. She was clearly clever and resolute, despite her lack of personal experience. Otherwise, she wouldn't have been able to follow through the summoning ritual.

"I have nothing to offer a partner anymore. No beauty, no future, no money. O only have my soul. Please."

He couldn't remember a single instance where someone had begged him with the simple word please and he gave into it. And yet, he had accepted her plea - The whole of her soul, in exchange for a meager, single moment of ridiculous passion. The mere thought had repulsed him before: Body on body, blunt thumps of fleshes, debauched obscenities... it was something that had never held his interest. He felt like it was something unrefined and animalistic, something he had always regarded as unnecessary and obsolete. Until then.

Her body had responded so eagerly, so sensitive, so ready to his touches. It had been clear she hadn't lied about her virginity, and yet her eagerness, her fearlessness had surprised him. Acting solely based on instinct and the morals he was brought up with, no real experience of his own himself, he had tried to be as careful and gentle as he could, and somehow, her inexperience had made it... easier. She was not expecting anything in terms of skill, and thus he had to guide her through the process, allowing him to set the pace and giving him ample time to react to her reactions. Sweet gasps, subtle tremors, faint flushes - all of which had told him how she had felt, what had been pleasurable and what had been uncomfortable. He had been able to take his time and make sure she enjoyed herself. It had been fascinating and even... pleasurable for him, too.

Despite the obvious pain, she had kept her eyes open, watching his face intently as they connected. He had felt the warmth and the tension around him, and her little, breathy gasps had been such pleasant sounds that when she had finally found her release, it had triggered his own, foreign as it had been. She had sighed his name in pure bliss, and in that moment he had felt as powerful and as satisfied as the night he had gained his title as Radio Demon.

And when the deed had been done, the girl had smiled so serenely, he was sure he had rarely ever seen anything that could rival her in beauty.

Alastor shifted uncomfortably at that thought, trying to will away the memory and the sensation that the mere thought of her smile invoked.

It had taken a few minutes, but eventually he had collected himself and put his clothes back on. Her eyes had followed him, the spark back in them and even brighter than before, her smile not faltering even when her tired lids had drooped down, slowly lulling her to sleep. Alastor had stood there, in the small, plain hospice room, watching her for a while, a strange feeling in his chest. The deal hadn't been solidified by a handshake, her soul not yet firmly bound to him and the contract void if not officially sealed, but he couldn't bring himself to wake her. Something had stopped him.

The memory of her face, pale and beautiful, smiling so peacefully even in her slumber, made the corners of his lips twitch. She would've made a magnificent addition to his collection of souls. And yet, and yet... He had decided then and there that her soul would find its way to him, eventually. But not through the proposed deal. So, he had left, the exchange unfulfilled, the pact broken, turning on the small radio she had let slip onto the floor just as he heard her caretaker returning to check on her.

'Oh, how the mighty have fallen.', he mused bitterly, a small laugh escaping his lips.

"Alastor?"

Charlie's voice was a mix of concern and curiosity, muffled by the thick, wooden door of his room. She sounded worried, probably wondering why he had excused himself from the hotel's interactions more and more for the past weeks. He was about to ignore her, not in the mood to talk to anyone, especially not her, persistent thing that she was, but when her soft knock followed her call, his smile widened tightly and his eyes flashed red.

"Charlie, dear, I'm afraid I'm not available at the moment.", he called out, his tone a bit sharper than usual.

"Sorry, but...", the princess sounded hesitant, and he could hear her shuffle awkwardly outside. "It's just... There is someone in the lobby, wanting to speak to you. It seems... important."

He got up from his chair with an annoyed sigh and switched off the radio, straightened his clothes and smoothed out his hair and bow tie with one swipe. Whatever business matter was brought forward, Alastor didn't feel like discussing it. The smile he wore was razor sharp and dark, a result of his annoyance and brooding mood, and yet he couldn't bring himself to feign his cheery personality just quite yet. Maybe this mystery visitor would be a suitable punching bag to let off some of that steam.

When Alastor finally opened the door and walked down to the lobby next to a flustered looking Charlie, his breath hitched involuntarily and he froze mid-stride. Charlie stumbled at the sudden lack of motion next to her, the deafening static sound and the chime-like tuning of a radio startling her so much she flinched away from him.

"H-Hey Al!?", she called in shock, "Are you okay?"

He didn't move, didn't even react - his attention was solely focused on the figure standing at the front-desk, who, just a moment ago, had talked to Husker before turning around upon hearing him.

Hell kept her skin white and almost translucent in it's spite, but granted her soft, shimmering silvery fur in it's mercy. Her frame wasn't thin and frail anymore, she looked plush and healthy, soft curves where there had been nothing more than skin and bone before. Keeping almost all of her human features intact, the small, round ears protruding from her hair, the pink-tipped nose and the long and slender tail were definitely characteristics of a dormouse, their ends almost silver and soft-looking. Her eyes were of the same gentle color that he remembered, and when her lips spread into a sad, tender smile his breath was stolen away completely.

It was the same smile. The very one he hadn't been able to purge from his mind, and most likely never would.

"Alastor."

The sound of her voice, quiet and melodic as it had been weeks before, felt like an invisible touch that pulled the air out of him. Not enough to suffocate him, but he was still reeling none the less.

"So you finally succumbed, it seems..."

His usual bravado was absent, his voice lacked it's sharp, jovial tone, sounding more like he was actually talking. Charlie could do little more but watch with widened eyes, seemingly unable to fathom the scene right in front of her.

"What are you talking about, Alastor? How do you know...", the princess spoke carefully and uncertain, her eyes wandering from one demon to another, but she was quickly interrupted, not by him, but by...

"It's a long story better told another time, Miss Charlie.", she said with a genuine smile on her face, still not able to take her eyes off Alastor. She took a few tentative steps towards him, careful, but certain in her movement, a confidence about her that hadn't been there before. Her head tilted in an enigmatic way and she spoke again, this time solely directed at him.

"I'm truly sorry to impose. But I was hoping we could talk... privately."

Alastor nodded mutely, not able to think clearly, before taking a deep breath and straightening his back to tower over her once again. Husk seemed to notice his shift in composure, raising a brow when he passed him by on his way back behind the bar, noticing the strangely satisfied looking smile on Alastor's face that was as unnerving and frightening as always, but with a different tint that even Husk must've trouble placing guessing by the suspicious look that fell over the cat's face.

"Of course, my dear, my office will suffice. If you'll excuse us, Charlotte? We'll be only a short while."

He didn't wait for her response but took his guest by her arm and guided her past an astonished Husk and clearly confused Charlie, leading the girl down the hall and to his office, the air between them thick with something undefinable, and neither of them dared to speak until the heavy mahogany door fell shut, effectively cutting off all outside interference.

Her cheeks were flushed when she stepped closer towards him. The tips of his claws brushed against her fringe, following the curve of her soft ear, across the back of her delicate neck to pluck a strand of her hair, pulling it towards him and running the silky fiber between two fingers and over the pad of his thumb, bringing it to his lips with a deep, pleased inhale.

She looked up at him, her smile shy but hopeful.

"You remember me.", she said with a chuckle, her voice a bit higher, her ears twitching and her tail swaying behind her, showing her emotions all too easily. Alastor nodded, not letting go of her hair just yet.

"How could I not, dear. It's not common for me to leave a contract unsettled, you know."

"I had a feeling that might've been the case, since it took me so long to find you.", she said quietly. "So, my soul..."

"... is still yours, yes."

She wasn't looking at him, directly. Her gaze went over his suit, to his hands and cane, then back to the floor.

"Why?", she asked, a hint of confusion and hurt in her voice, her silken hair slipping from his fingers.

"Why didn't you claim it? You had every right, after all. I offered, you agreed and..."

Alastor didn't speak, couldn't speak. The answer was right on the tip of his tongue, and yet he wasn't sure if he wanted to share it. It felt... strange, and foreign, and not quite comfortable. But it was undeniably true, now - with her in front of him - clearer than any time in the last weeks in his chair, each night, in front of the fireplace.

He wanted her. Not just her soul. Her. So, he settled on silence and a half-truth, instead.

"It wasn't the right time, dear."

Her face turned to him, her eyes searching his. He felt exposed, like her eyes were piercing him.

"And now...?"

"That remains to be seen. Why are you here?", he countered, stepping back to put a more comfortable distance between them.

"I came to see you, because..." She swallowed hard, and Alastor watched her throat, the soft swell of her breasts under her modest blouse, the slight rise of her belly. "When I arrived in hell, I felt... weird. I thought it was because of all the changes, this new body and... generally being here. But it didn't go away, this.... feeling. I made friends with a lovely imp couple, they took me in after I fell. The wife, Millie, took me to a doctor because she got worried when I couldn't stop throwing up..."

Her face grew hot, a flush spreading across her cheeks, her ears folding back against her head.

"Alastor, I'm pregnant."

A loud bang rang through the hallway as Alastor dropped his cane and a deafening feedback noise filled the room. For the first time in what must have been decades, his face betrayed him completely, the smile ripping at the sewn edges as it dropped violently. He felt dizzy and his head was spinning.

"Impossible.", he breathed, the word almost getting stuck in his throat. The very notion was ridiculous, unheard of - clearly that must be a crude joke. Alastor started to laugh, though sounding not as amused and booming as he would've hoped, but more hysterical than anything else.

She stayed silent, looking at him with sad, but serious and almost pleading eyes as the truthfulness of her confession began to sink in and his laughter slowly died. He took a tentative step forward, a million questions running through his head, the sheer amount overwhelming his usually so precise mind.

"So, a month ago, it...", he stopped, feeling the corners of his mouth pull wider.

"...yes. The doctor told me there are only a handful similar cases like this known since hell was created... The circumstances are 'too specific' and it normally takes a vast amount of intimate interactions' between a hellbound sinner and a living, fertile human he said... Seems like you knocked me up with one round, buster." She wrung her hands, her smile forced and unsure. "Listen, Alastor... I know it sounds impossible. I mean, I couldn't believe it at first when he told me so I understand you can't, too... but I don't expect anything, I really don't. I just... I wanted to see you again, and-and you deserve to know, and..."

"Darling, hush.", Alastor interrupted, a sense of clarity taking hold of his chaotic mind. He had never felt a desire for a family, not in his lifetime nor in his death. Partners were liabilities and a distraction, relationships nuisances if they strayed beyond the borders of business or at the very most friendly aquaintances. He had no need for things like these in the past, looking down on people desperate to seek out partners, claiming to be lonely when in truth they were just weak or simply starving for a touch of the 'opposite sex' to make up for their own inadequacy.

Now, faced with the reality of fatherhood in a matter of minutes and the prospect of his life being bound to another - one who, undoubtedly, bore his child, no less - Alastor would be lying if he had claimed a part of him didn't absolutely reel at the prospect. A responsibility greater than his own had just fallen into his lap - a vulnerability he never asked for and certainly didn't expect.

But.

A part of him would come into the world, no matter whether it would look human, or demonic like him, or whatever strange combination of them both: This child would be proof of him. Him, not anyone else. There would be a person dependent on him for guidance and protection, a legacy he would be allowed to leave, a lineage that could one day claim that he, Alastor, had been the founding cause. His legacy. His blood and his seed had created another being against all rules and logic, an offspring, maybe a girl, maybe it would resemble him, or her, or even... his mother.

Despite the incredulity and the sheer panic the revelation brought, the longer he looked at the tiny dormouse in front of him, the more he realized how similar her traits were to his own mother's. Soft, but determined. Sad, but brave. Young but aged.

No, this hadn't been just some fleeting fling - Alastor had to believe in fate, given what she told him. There had been a reason why he didn't seal the deal that night. Why he had agreed to her request so easily. The more Alastor thought about the potential of a shared offspring, along with a loyal partner on his side, about the what-ifs and could-bes, the more appealing and pleasant the future appeared. She was carrying a being he created, one that had his essence – All the more stronger his grin widened, stretching so far it caused his cheeks to ache, but his blooming glee knew no bounds. He saw, to his own surprise, not a weakness or vulnerability.

But his greatest achievement.

With a laugh, this time sincere and booming and loud instead of hysterical, he picked her up on her waist, knocking the air out of her in a gasp, and swung her around several times.

"O-oh! Oh my goodness!", she stuttered, eyes wide and brows furrowed. "Alastor, calm down!"

"Oh, no no no, I simply can't! Dear, do you have any idea what a marvel you have wrought!?", he exclaimed in delight, setting her back down and bringing both hands up to her cheeks. "We've created a magnificent abomination!"

Her head shook as she chuckled, still nervous but with an edge of relief in her voice. "That's certainly one way of saying it. But... are... are you saying that... you are okay with it? That you..."

"What, dear?", he cooed, her big eyes shining hopefully as her ears twitched curiously. His chest swelled with affection, and he gently squeezed her cheeks between his hands.

"Does a daddy on your side scare you, darling?"

"N-No-oh."

The title invoked a peculiar reaction, and he made a mental note to use it again soon enough, as her cheeks flushed in a dusty rose. Alastor felt an unfamiliar and somehow primal pleasure at the sight of it, a surge of happiness in his chest, the warmth of it nearly too much. He pulled her face against his, smothering her with a kiss. He wasn't familiar with such embraces, but she felt like she was specifically molded to fit perfectly into him, her ears flicking with every beat of her racing heart.

There were tears welling in her beautiful eyes, and as he kissed her cheeks and brushed them away with his thumbs. Oh yes, Alastor was filled with a new kind of giddy excitement.

"Come on, dear, let's not waste time to spread the good news!", he exclaimed, unable to reign his euphoric mood, and before she could comment on his actions, he reached out and lifted her over his shoulder in one fluid movement, ignoring her startled squawk. The look of utter bewilderment on her face almost made him break out into more laughter, but he was already out the door, ready to take his child's mother, who was, without a doubt in his mind, bound to him forever with a force much stronger than any deal he could've made, downstairs to tell the news to his fellow friends, who would have no choice but to learn what a truly dangerous deal looked like.

[sha-n-dowbannedlol]

Lucifer — Horrified looks from everyone in the room but I'm only looking at you

CW: uhm? fire? reader is in an arranged marriage

It has been more than a year now since you asked Lucifer out of curiosity and slight amusement:

"What happens when you enter a church?"

You look up from your D.D.D. to find that the demon you were speaking to didn't even look up from his paperwork, continuing to write.

"Do you catch on fire?" you jokingly ask,

"Yes." he responds, much to your surprise. with his eyes still glued to the paper on his desk, he continues on to explain, "But it's not like the flame hurts me. If anything, it's just inconvenient because I can barely see anything."

You didn't know whether to believe his words or not back then, but you certainly do now—a whole year after you returned to the human world, a whole year after he broke things off with you.

Gasps resounded in the building at the sound of someone kicking the church doors open, followed by ear-piercing screams from a few guests and others yelling about getting water as all the horrified eyes were focused on a single point; the flaming figure walking down the aisle.

"I said," the figure seemed unphased by the commotion he has caused and the roaring flames engulfing his being, "Stop the Wedding!"

You didn't know what to feel. At first, you felt horrified, anyone would be when they see this sight before them. But at the realization that it was your ex-boyfriend—whom you still love very much—you felt a mix of relief and annoyance.

Relief at the delay of your marriage with this man you barely even know, and annoyance because what in Diavolo's name is he doing here now?!

You didn't hesitate to walk back down the aisle, your soon-to-be husband and the priest too stunned to even try to stop you. The chaos inside the church suddenly became background noise as you met his crimson eyes—even if it was quite hard to see through the roaring flames.

"Lucifer," you hissed when you were only a few feet away from him, "What are you doing here?!"

"I'm here for you," He replies, he reaches his hands out in hopes of touching you which prompted you to flinch away from the flames—a gesture he misunderstood and mistook as rejection. His hands fell back to his sides and you can't even discern the look on his face with the fire blocking your view.

"How did you even know? I didn't.. I didn't tell anyone from the devildom."

"Ah.... Mammon punched me..." He informs you, his voice is low and quite embarrassed. For the second time that day, your eyes widen in surprise. Mammon? He did what? But before you could voice out your surprise, he continues.

"He said you were sobbing over the phone, and immediately assumed it was because of me. I was... worried. I asked Solomon to check on how you're doing here and-" He stops, and based on the movements of the flames, you assume he's looking around in search of the white-haired sorcerer. "He was the one who told me about this."

"And what do you hope to achieve?"

"To convince you to come with me."

"Weren't you the one who told me to find my happiness in someone else?"

"I did." He admits, "But you're not happy with him, are you?"

You turn your gaze down and away from his own, and your silence was enough of a response for him. As you continue to look down, his flaming hand came into your view, palms open and facing upward.

"Come with me." His deep voice was tempting you to take his hand, "Or not. It's your choice, darling."

You study his glove-clad hand, and as much as you want to take his hand, you were scared that it would just burn you and lead you to a world full of pain—literally.

You can turn back to safety and take your fiance's hand—the safer option wherein you're sure that you wouldn't get hurt, where you wouldn't have to turn your back on your family and not disappoint your parents.

Or you can take the risk and take Lucifer's hand—embrace the roaring flames and turn your back on everyone else, burning the bridge that once connected you to your family, to your parents, to the future they planned just for you.

You could've taken the roaring flames on Lucifer's hand as a bad omen, it was as if the universe was yelling at you to not hurt yourself by going back to him and you, yourself, already knew that. You should turn back. You should go back to the altar. You shouldn't come with him.

And with a deep breath, you finally made your decision.

....It doesn't hurt.

That was the first thought that popped into your mind when your bare skin met Lucifer's glove, and just as he said, the flames do not hurt. If anything, it was warm, a stark contrast to the coolness of his gloves as his fingers wrap around your hand once again.

You finally look up, a genuine, fond smile had made its way to his face now, before pulling on your hand.

"Let's run away,"

[milla-frenchy]

Wolf like me

2k2 | Joel Miller x fem reader Summary: you meet someone who finally fills the void in you Warnings: 18+ mdni. Darkish. rough sex, oral (m/f), facial, self abandonment, toxic relationship, possessiveness, jealousy, spitting, biting, manhandling, unprotected piv, rimming, ass play, anal, creampie, reader is looking for pain, Joel is not particularly nice and not caring either. No age specified. a/n: @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog thank you for beta-ing me, and hearing me whine 😭💕🫶 There are Joels that are particularly physically powerful, brutal, and sexually aggressive. I call them “beast!Joel” 😍🥵 Here they are: Carnal @pascalsbby | Daddy Joel & A day in the filth @toxicanonymity | Lost in the dark @iamasaddie. Thank you for these awesome fics 🙏❤️ Here’s mine :) The title is from Wolf like me by TV on the radio

ao3 | masterlist | part 2

Joel was pretty well known at the QZ. He had the reputation of a distant man, not meddling in other people's affairs and hating people meddling in his own. He carried out the worst tasks, those that paid the most. It was impossible to know what shenanigans he was getting into with Tess, the woman he was often seen with. Impossible to know why he sometimes met FEDRA soldiers on the sidelines, but without really hiding it, as if he knew that no one would dare bother him.

You worked for Robert and you knew that his relationship with Joel was tense. So for some time now, when Robert needed something from Joel, he went through you. Every time you met him, Joel lived up to his reputation. He grumbled more than spoke, he was not very verbose, he did not bother with manners and was barely polite. He used to roll his eyes an embarrassing number of times at you, like you were the stupidest person in the world. However, he didn't impress you, and one day, you caught a grin when you responded to him in a biting tone.

That’s probably how you ended up on your knees in front of him one evening, his cock in your mouth and his fist clenched in your hair. His massive hand on the back of your head holding you exactly how he wanted, while he was fucking your throat without worrying about the tears forming at the corners of your eyes.

He let go of you, and ordered you to get on the bed, “cheek against the pillow and ass in the air.” 

You looked up at him, without immediately obeying, and he pointed to the bed with his chin. You got up and settled in, unable to resist his directive tone. When he knelt behind you, his fat cock in his hand, ready to push it into your core, you freed yourself from his hand, asking him to wait.

“Wait for what exactly, little girl?”

In someone else's mouth, this pet name might have been cute. Or kind. But in his, you felt like a helpless little thing in the hands of a man much more powerful than you.

“Wait until I’m prepared,” you whispered.

“Do you think I’m gonna make love to you, baby girl?”

He tilted his head to the side, waiting for your response which didn't come.

“Cause I don’t make love. I fuck hard. So either you take my fuckin’ cock the way I wanna give it to you, or you get the fuck outta here.”

You let him fuck you the way he wanted, your teeth digging into the flesh of your hand to keep you from screaming, while his fingers were firmly buried in the flesh of your hips. He pulled out just before he came, grabbing your arm for you to follow him to the side of the bed. His feet planted on the ground, he jerked himself into his clenched fist until spurts of cum covered your face.

Stunned by his animality, you didn't move before he pushed you down onto the floor, and he plunged into you, his tongue dipping into your aching pussy. He ate you as he had fucked you just before: like a hungry beast devouring its wounded prey. His fingers were everywhere, on your clit, in your pussy and in your ass. Yours were buried in his curls, clawing at his scalp, making him grunt against your folds until you came, exhausted, and finally relaxed your muscles that had been contracting until then, under the assaults he had inflicted on you.

Of course, he didn't walk you home. He didn’t even say a word to you, to be honest. He barely watched you wipe away the cum that was still on your cheeks.

You continued to meet Joel on Robert's behalf, and you returned to his apartment several times.

Every time he fucked you, you felt like you were being tossed around in dark waters, the movement of which seemed strangely familiar to you. And above all, the feeling gave you the confirmation that you were still alive.

Joel wanted to own, to take. And you wanted to be owned, creating a perfect balance between you. You were giving him everything he wanted. Your body was always adapting to his, whatever hole he thrusted into. He probably licked and smelled every inch of your skin. Left bite marks on your body, as if his cock deep inside you wasn't enough, as if he needed to sink his teeth into your skin. Needed to show everyone that you were his. That you had been claimed. “I want you to use my body whenever and however you want”, you told him once. And he did. Days after days.

As soon as you closed the door to his apartment behind you, you felt that the atmosphere was heavier than usual. He was sitting near the dining room table, facing the front door, and you.

“Who was it?”, he asked, in an annoyed voice, so low you barely heard him, while his fist was clenched on the table.

"Who are you talking about?"

“That boy, with you near the guardhouse this afternoon.” He spat out the sentence, his jaw clenched, the sound of his voice barely reaching your ears.

“He’s one of Robert’s guys, he’s not a boy,” you replied, shrugging your shoulders. He stood up suddenly and slammed you against the wall with surprising agility for a man of his build. His hand pressed against your throat, his face lowered towards you, you only saw his dark eyes.

“You let him fuck you?” he growled, tightening his grip on your throat.

“No, damn, Joel…”, you whispered.

He released his grip slightly and breathed down your neck, then moved up to your ear, as if to make sure that he would only smell your scent on you.

“Mine,” he murmured, his nose in your hair, his hand sliding from your throat to one of your breasts which he grabbed.

“Yours”, you breathed in his ear, your hand clinging to his bicep.

“I’m gonna be brutal, baby doll.”

“I know.”

He unbuttoned his pants, pulling out his hard cock, before grabbing your thighs and lifting you off the ground. He pushed aside the panties under your dress, and positioned his tip at your entrance. He looked at you, daring you with his gaze to tell him to wait. But it’s been a long time now since you asked him to be prepared. You only wanted to feel him more. Always more. And the faster he plunged into you, the more intoxicating the sensation was.

He sank in, his gaze boring into yours as his cock split your pussy. In one push he bottomed out. He pulled back almost all the way and thrusted in again, after tilting his pelvis so that you impaled yourself as deep as possible on his shaft. Breathless, you grabbed his shoulders to try to ease the way you were taking his cock. But he placed his arm against your back and tightened his hand on the back of your neck, trapping you in his embrace. He pounded you against the wall, and you were whimpering at each stroke of his cock.

“You’re mine”, he said again, thrusting in. “You belong to me, only my cock can fuck this cunt. You hear me, little girl?”

“Fuck… Yes Joel! Just you.”

“Not only your cunt. Everything. I want only my smell on you.”

He grabbed your chin in his hand, looking at you questioningly. You nodded and said “only you.”

“Good girl. Come here.”

He released you and grabbed your arm, squeezing it way too tightly with his large hand, before throwing you onto the bed. He was standing in front of you, his pants just under his balls, still covering his thick thighs. His hand was tight on his cock, glistening with your wetness. You could see the vein in his neck pulsing.

He spat into his palm before jerking off harshly while watching you.

“Joel”, you whimpered. “Please I want-”

“You’ll have that cock when I’ll give it to you”, he cut you off.

“Please Joel, use me”, you whined again.

“Jesus, you need my cock that bad? Get on all fours, then. And take off your clothes.”

You undressed and watched him remove his clothes, before waiting for him on your hands and knees. The bed sank under his weight as he knelt behind you. He ran his hands from your neck to the small of your back. He reveled in your eagerness, seeing your ass pushed back towards him. You wanted him to use you, the way he wanted. He placed his cock at your entrance, and thrusted in slowly. So slowly that it was almost more painful than when he would suddenly stick it in you. Like a bandage that you gently remove instead of ripping it off all at once. You felt your pussy spread painfully to let his cock sink in. You felt his skin warming you up from the inside. He kept thrusting, and you realized that you had been holding your breath since he dove in you. You breathed deeply, keeping yourself from moving backwards and impaling yourself on his cock in one blow. You knew he wanted to control the pace, and you wanted him to act that way. You wanted to be in pain, to feel things as intensely as possible, and for as long as possible.

You felt so fragile and vulnerable, with his massive hands on you and his cock piercing you. And at the same time, you had never felt so safe. Nothing could happen to you, with him.

Finally his cock bottomed out and you gasped. He pulled back and thrusted in with a brutal move this time, as you reflexively leaned forward. He tightened his embrace, threatening “don’t you dare. You’re gonna take my cock, as I want you to take it.” You bit your lip and nodded.

You heard him spit and you shivered as you felt his saliva reach your ass, his thumb immediately coming up to push it into your ring. You heard him grunt behind your back, guessing his contemplation between keeping fucking your pussy or claiming your ass. With a snort, he pulled out, dipping his tongue against your ass, lapping flat. You heard him jerking off into his fist and part of you hoped to see him desperate to the point of cumming against the sheets without having time to fuck you. But his primal instinct for possession was the strongest, and he positioned himself against your ring once he felt you would be able to take it.

He pushed, and you waited quietly, controlling your breath, until the tip was fully in.

“Oh fuck, Joel…”

“Always ready to take it in your ass, right?”

“I…fuck. Yeah. I can always take it.”

“Good girl”, he praised, as he thrusted in suddenly, the brutality of his action clashing with the sound of his voice. You didn't have time to say a word, he was already pulling back before burying himself again, showing you once more that you were his, pinching your hips, and you knew that the morning after your skin there would be blue.

“Turn around, I want to see your face while I fuck your ass,” he said, pulling back and manhandling you to turn around.

You lay on your back, and he grabbed the back of your knees to bring them closer to your shoulders before thrusting in. The position made the penetration so deep that you thought he was actually going to tear you in half. His growls were more animalistic than human and you lost yourself in their sounds. 

“Look”, he said. “Look at my cock, ruining your ass.”

He pulled his torso away from yours and you looked down, where your bodies were one.

“Fuck, baby doll. Look. You’re taking it so good.”

“Joel... Let off all your steam. Use me for that.”

“Shit you’re…you never get enough of that cock.”

He fucked you, probably harder than ever, and you couldn't feel your body anymore.

“Lose yourself in me”, he told you, looking at you as if he was reading you. “I’m here for it”, he added. You came, hearing him, your clit rubbing against his lower stomach.

Burying in your ass, he grabbed your wrists with one hand and held them above your head, placing his mouth against your armpit, licking away the beads of sweat hidden there and growling against your skin.

“Jo…fuck. Joel.”

“Mmmm?”, he growled.

“The sounds you make, when you fuck me. I…- fuck.. I feel so full - …I love these sounds.”

For the first time, you thought you saw a loss of control in him, and you tried to catch his gaze. When he froze inside you and shot the hot spurts of cum into your ass, all you could think about was the dark waves you were floating in, and you came a second time on his cock.

You got dressed and as you were leaving he grabbed you, holding you against him like no one had ever done before. He held you so tight that it was painful, but you would have let him crack one of your ribs if it would allow you to continue this embrace. When he released you, you tried to meet his gaze again, but he had already turned away from you.

When you got back to your apartment, you knew you were screwed. Fucking with him, letting him use you in any possible way, was no longer enough.

Part 2

********************

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[hellaarknight]

I promised to protect you

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

Genre: Angst

Warnings: swearing and mention of physical and psychological abuse, toxic relationship, mentions of bruises and about laying hands on a partner, some of the content may be triggering.

Author note: I would consider this a heavy fic for some. Do not engage if you think it might be triggering.

Images and art from Pinterest if someone knows the original creators let me know so I can tag them properly

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

" Well he's not always this bad, he's ok..."

Your weak attempt to defend your shity boyfriend only made Chuuya angrier. Why would you let yourself be in the company of that awful guy, he could never understand. You were bright and nice, powerful and determined and yet you got yourself a... A leech. No, it was worse but he was being generous while describing that abomination of a man... That guy had deemed your light in the past 6 months he's dated you and Chuuya hates himself for allowing you to get with him in the first place.

"Are you even listening to yourself right now?" Chuuya extended towards you a glass of wine.

"Listen Chuuya, I know he's not the man I've dreamed of and doesn't have all the qualities I've wanted my partner to have, but I also have to compromise on some things."

"Not on your dignity."

Your gaze fell on the floor a deep sight leaving your lips. Chuuya ran a hand through his hair, very frustrated. He didn't want to say it like that, but he had enough of seeing you suffer, seeing you renounce your hobbies because that guy deemed them "childish" or seeing you lose your spark when talking about what brought you joy just because your boyfriend found them boring. He knew you were smart, always talked about how you will never lose yourself in a relationship so he didn't really understand why and how you got to this point. Chuuya fell in love with you, but couldn't tell you because of his mafia position and him being away for missions a lot, or work trips how he called them in front of you. Then, when he decided he had to come forward and let you decide if you wanted to give him a chance with all that it would have entailed, he was a month too late. He returned from one long, painful mission and found you in a relationship, one that he despised wholeheartedly, so he chose to remain your trusted friend.

"Listen, I didn't want to say it like that...."

"No, that's not true, you did want to say it exactly like that". Your voice was on the verge of cracking. Something bottled up was about to spill if you weren't careful enough and Chuuya noticed it. The man groaned and took a sip of his wine. Maybe it was time to be honest about it.

" Fine. It's exactly like that. Since you started dating that douchebag you lost yourself. All the things you promised not to compromise on in a relationship happened. You lost your bright personality, you stopped rambling about books, anime and flowers. Hell, you even stopped gardening and that was your therapy. You asked me to stop bringing you flower bulbs from all over the places I go on my work trips and you stopped hanging out with me or your other friends. You stopped wearing your signature perfume and your red lipstick you were so fond of. So I'm sorry, but you're not in a fucking healty relationship! And you're defending that stupid fuck who doesn't do anything with his life and stays at your place, without paying any fucking bill! You left yourself to be a mat for that guy, what is wrong with you!?"

You looked at Chuuya stunned. It seemed that the red head had a lot bottled up as well. For some reason his words stung and made you feel worse. He was right and you fully knew it, but you just couldn't let him know... You could not put him in danger.

Chuuya was deeply unaware of your internal struggles. He only knew what he was seeing and what you were letting him know lately, which wasn't a lot that's for sure. He felt relieved to have finally spoken his mind. At the same time, guilt was eating him alive. This was the first time he raised his voice at you in a serious manner, but he couldn't control it, his anger towards the entire situation had the best on him. You looked frightened to say at least and he could swear that he saw you flinch when he was using his hands to express his thoughts.

Something about your crunched posture, your fidgeting fingers, the way you looked very exhausted made him open his mouth.

"Does he hit you?"

Why didn't it cross his mind sooner? What if you were in an abusive relationship? Your boyfriend's controlling behavior was concerning enough, but if it was worse than he imagined and all this time he blamed you for not keeping your ground? A pit formed in his stomach, he was going to be sick.

"What?? What, no... Is not really like that." You avoided Chuuya's scrutinizing gaze and forced a smile.

He gently reached for your chin and turned your head to face him. His voice was soft, barely a whisper, his gentleness making your heart flutter. Was his calloused hand always this comforting?

"Please, please if anything don't lie to me, especially with things like this. I promised you that I will protect you no matter what, remember?"

"I can't" you shake your head "If I'm telling you everything you're going to act impulsively. He's going to hurt you, he said you'd be the first one to suffer, I'm sorry, I can't..." At this point your cheeks were stained by your tears, your hand cupping his near your face.

Chuuya's heart broke at the sight. It was pitiful, he blamed himself for it. If only he wasn't a coward when it came to feelings. He swore to himself that he'd keep you safe from the mafia world, but that did not mean that in other circumstances he wouldn't be there for you. With his thumb he wiped your tears away.

" I am not going to get hurt, I promise you. There isn't any chance for him to lay hand on me. Don't hide yourself from me anymore, please. You're hurting and it's killing me to see you like this."

Chuuya felt as close to you as ever. Even if you kept your distance from him in the last few months, even if you tried your best to hide the hell you were going to. So you just broke down crying.

Chuuya was quick to pull you towards his chest, wrapping his hand protectively around you. He caressed your back and gave you space to let it all out. He was hurting with you, he hated to see you cry, let alone seeing how broken and hurt you were. He felt like the wall that rose between the two of you had finally collapsed.

" Is ok, is ok, you're going to be okay. I'm here now, you're safe, no one is going to hurt you here, I'll make sure of it. You are safe sweetheart, you're safe." He kept whispering sweet nothings and encouragement words until you got to calm down a bit. He used his gravity manipulation powers to bring closer the tissues and then handed you one.

" You' sure you're ok?" Your nod made him feel at ease, at least for a moment. Then he just grabbed one of your hands and intertwined his fingers with yours, squeezing lightly, silently encouraging you to talk.

" I want you to pinky promise that you won't do anything stupid." Your glossy eyes made Chuuya chuckle.

" You know very well that I can't promise something like that, doll. I'm gn'a promise that I won't get hurt, that I can do."

Your glare only made him raise his shoulder, but that will have to do.

" He... He may or may not have raised his hands at me. I definitely do have some bruises over my body, but they appeared from what he calls accidents. I tripped, or I fell into the chairs from the kitchen but he pushed me..." Chuuya silently listened, his blood boiling in his veins. He was ready to hunt the bastard down and bring him into the Port Mafia's torture chambers.

" ... and I kept all this to myself because he's a member in the mafia and said that he would put you on their killing list if I said anything to anyone so I was scared..."

" WHAT!?" Chuuya couldn't believe what he was hearing, your boyfriend was a what and did what? It was like his worst nightmare came to life but in a very twisted way. That was not plausible, the members in the mafia know very well the consequences of using their status to commit shit like this. Unless it was about some weakling, a newbie who got the hands on a bit of power and now thought nothing would touch him. What the fuck happened?

" I know, I know, it was very dumb of me to stay in the relationship, but I was really scared for you and for my family..."

" No, no, that's not it. Tell me his name and what he told you about being in the Mafia. That motherfucker is about to lose his head."

"Chuuya, you promised that you're not going to do anything stupid!"

"No, doll. I promised that I won't get hurt. But that isn't why I'm saying it. The guy can't use his mafia status however he pleases. There are certain rules even in the Mafia."

You looked at him confused.

" How would you know?"

Chuuya inhaled deeply. It was time to come clean with everything.

" Because I'm an executive in the Mafia and I can guarantee that the motherfucker you're dating isn't going to go about his day and live to tell the tale. I'm sorry, I'm going to explain everything afterwards, I promise. He's at your apartment?"

You were so confused, not really registering what he was saying so you just nodded.

" You stay right here until I come back. Go take a shower, take a bath, go in my office and read a book or you can find some manga collections that I have previously prepared in case you happened to stay here. You can find pajamas for you in the guest room. I'll be back later."

" Where are you going?"

Chuuya smiled and placed a kiss on your forehead.

" I'm going to show that bastard what it actually means to be in the Mafia."

[islayhawkin]

Capable of love

Ominis Gaunt x f!reader

Summery: Ominis tried to kiss you but it didn't go as planned which brings up insecurities in him.

Hurt/comfort with bit of angst?

Art by @boxdstars

Ominis burst into the dormitory room. "Sebastian." He snapped. He started to pace nervously around the room.

Sebestian looked at his friend startled. "Oh no. What did I do this time...?" He asked hesitantely.

"For once you didn't do anything. I did. I think I did something very wrong." Ominis couldn't stop his pacing. Self doubt prominent in his voice. Dragging a hand across his face.

Sebastian stood up with a sigh. "Wait ominis. Relax. I'm sure you haven't done anything that severe. Just tell me what happened."

Ominis pinched his eyes. "Promise you won't laugh." He ordered.

There was a moment of silence.

"Sebastian?!" Ominis turned to him in disbelief.

Sebastian took his hands up in defence. "Okay okay. I won't."

Ominis breathed out. "I- I pressed my lips to hers..."

Sebastians eyebrows shot up. "And...?" He asked excited. Ominis could hear the smirk on his face.

Ominis stopped pacing. "And what? Was I supposed to do something else too?" He whispered almost panicked. His usual confident voice had turned into a insecure one. Sebastian wasn't used to seeing him this way.

Sebastian couldn't stiffle a smile forming on his lips. "I can hear you smile sebastian." Ominis said irritably. "This is not funny."

"Sorry. Wait let me get this straight. You tried to kiss her. So you put your lips on hers and did nothing else?"

"Yes? But I think I did it utterly wrong because she didn't react. God I'm such an idiot. I shouldn't have done it." Ominis scrunched his brows in frustration. Sebastian took his friend by the shoulders. Stopping his pacing.

"Okay listen. That's not how kissing works. You have to move your lips. You could suck at her lip and I guess you could stick your tounge into her mouth...that's great..." sebastian trailed off with a smirk.

I look of disgust crossed ominis face. "I don't want to hear about your sexual fantasies sallow. So I did it terribly wrong didn't I?" He went through his hair with his hand. "What should she think of me now?" Sebastian clapped his hand on ominis shoulder. "No. No. Don't worry. I mean you did it wrong..." "not helping." Ominis quipped in. "...but that's no problem. I'm sure she doesn't care."

Ominis frowned angrily. "She'll think I'm a pathetic blind boy. I'm a Gaunt. I'm supposed to know what to do."

Sebastian sat down on his bed with a sigh. "Just talk to her. Or you could give it another try." He shrugged. Ominis turned his body in the direction of his friends voice. "I can't just give it another go. She probably doesn't even want to see me. I need to...apologize. Maybe she'll be able to forget it and we can go back to the way it was." Ominis rambled his thoughts out.

"Did you like it?" Sebastian quipped in. There was silence that filled the room for a moment.

"...What?" asked Ominis stunned.

"Did you like it?" Sebastian repeated. There was a defeaning silence again.

"Yes." Came the hesitant voice of ominis.

                                 ***

Ominis didn't sleep much that night. He already wasn't the best sleeper but the events of the day and his worry about it kept invading his thoughts. His mind came up with every possibility what could happen and what you'd be thinking about him. To the point that his eyes moisted and he had to blink a few times.

He hated not knowing. Not having control. Not being able to see your reaction. He hated himself in this moment for hoping to be loved when he knew he wasn't capable of love.

So he got out of bed, took a shower and headed down to the great hall. It was really early but by the time he sat down there were already a few students up too.

For once he didn't care about the etiquette his family so hurtfully forced upon him. Right know he forget about them for a moment. About the pain he felt from them. Because what he felt now was a different pain. One that made his heart hurt and he didn't know how to deal with it.

                                 ***

As you came down to the great hall too, you dared to glance at him. You noticed immediately that something was wrong with him.

He sat slumped in his seat. Not the usual straight back he was thaught. His hair was touseled and still a bit wet. And dark eyebags were seen under his eyes. Now that wasn't necessarily out of order- his unkempt hair certainly was. You knew that his parents imprinted for him to always look presentable even thought he couldn't see it.

It did worry you. Yesterday he tried to...kiss you. Well you supposed that's what he was trying to do since it didn't really seem like a kiss but more of a...touch. You weren't sure if his intend was to kiss you or if he tried to do something very different and ended up this way. You were simply confused by his action.

On the other side Sebastian nudged his friend next to him. "She's looking at you since a few minutes already."

"Maybe she's looking at you." Ominis mumbled. A bit of red tinted his skin at the picture it brought in his mind. Sebastian snorted. "After that stunt you pulled yesterday I'm sure she's looking at you for a change."

Ominis rolled his glazed eyes. "Will you stop talking about her?" He grumbled angrily. He wished he could see for himself how she was looking at his direction.

"You need to talk to her mate. If you don't I will. I'm sure she's not angry at you. She doesn't look angry." Ominis' mouth pulled together into a thin line. "You will not talk to her. Just drop it." He snapped.

There was a moment of silence as Sebastian glanced at him.

Ominis mumbled a "Sorry." And hastily got up from his seat. He stormed out of the great hall and ignored Sebastians shouts. He just needed to get out of there. Get away from everything. His heart beat painfully in his chest at the idea of talking to you.

With long strodes he made his way to the dungeon were he cowered down in a notch in the wall. He closed his eyes and listened to the silence of the dungeon. Only small noices from changing walls on the other side were heard, which echoed throught the halls.

The stone wall was cold against him but he liked it. He always felt safe in the cold. It meant the warmth couldn't be taken away from him. It meant he wouldn't get punished. He wouldn't feel pain. The more uncomfortable his body felt the safer he was, which let him rest his mind for a moment. Breathing out a long breath.

What had he gotten himself into? He just should've never engaged with this feelings he felt.

He knew letting him act and accept his feelings would have consequences. But he couldn't help himself. The soft touch you gave him shut his logical brain completely off. Your soothing voice made him believe that he could actually be happy. That he could be safe. That he could be...loved.

The reality of his situation came crushing down on him fast. He was a gaunt. He was pathetic. He didn't even know how to kiss. What could he offer her? A blind broken boy to mend, a family who hated her- possibly could harm her. He didn't even dare think about this possibility.

As you saw him storm out of the great hall you decided to speak with Sebastian. You sat down across from him and leaned closer to him.

"Seb do you know what's wrong with ominis?" You asked concerned.

Sebastians mouth quirked into a smile. "Well he told me that you kissed yesterday...?"

You raised your brows. "So that was- he really wanted to kiss me?" Sebastian snorted. "How obvious does he have to make it. What did you think he was trying to do."

You pulled your shoulders up in defence and talked in a hushed tone. "How was I supposed to know what he was trying to do. Maybe he just...thought it was something else."

Sebastian gave you a look and you had to accept that your excuse was terrible. "Okay well he kissed me then. Why does he look so-" you gestured around your head. "Terrible then?" Sebastians playful expression fell. "I think he's struggeling. I've seen him...insecure yesterday. Going on about how he did it wrong." You sighed. "I'm gonna talk to him." Sebastian nodded. "Thank you."

You gave him a small smile and made your way out of the great hall to search for him. Obviously the slytherin area of the castle would be a good point to start.

The echo of your shoes on the dungeon ground made his ears perk up. The rythm of the steps reminded him of yours.

"Ominis?" You asked softly as you found him crouched into the stone wall.

His body tensed up and he held his breath. He swallowed and cleared his throat. "I am very remorseful about my actions yesterday. I do apologize for my inappropriate behavior and promise this won't occur again." His posh accent was more prominent and his voice sounded distant.

You shook your head slowly and sat down across from him in the small nook. "Ominis..." you touched his knee softly which made him flinch. You took your hand back with a sigh. "You don't have to put that distant attitude on. You don't have to apologize for yesterday. What is going on with you?"

"No Y/N I did something very wrong yesterday."

"Why was it wrong?"

"Wha- I shouldn't have. It was a mistake. I didn't think. And I didn't ask for your permisson. And Sebastian told me that I didn't do it right." He forced the words out. It pained him to speak it out loud.

"Did you want to kiss me?" You asked softly.

There was silence and ominis swallowed the lump in his throat. He couldn't lie to you.

"Yes." His voice was unusually unsure of himself.

"Then why was it a mistake?"

"You didn't want it."

"I wanted it. I like you. Of course I didn't mind."

Ominis put his hands in his hair. Making it more touseled. He shook his head. "No. No. You don't want it. You don't want me."

You were stunned for a moment. "What?"

He stood up in frustration. "You don't want me. I am blind. My family is a danger to you. I am pathetic. I am broken. I sleep on the floor at night because...I'm afraid. I don't even know how to bloody kiss. I can't tell you that you look beautiful. I cannot protect you the way I should. I simply cannot give you what you deserve."

There were tears glistening in his eyes. And he was barely able to choke the words out throught the lump in his throat. His hands were trembeling at his side. His chest rising and falling rapidly.

You stood up as well to get closer to him. "Ominis...what are you talking about. I don't care about these things. I like you the way you are. You don't have to be any other way to deserve me. I will sleep on the floor with you. We'll just put our lips together if you want to kiss that way. I only care about you."

You put your hands on his cheeks. In your own eyes were tears too from the pain you saw him in. He tensed under the touch but didn't pull away.

"Please don't see yourself that way. You are worth so much more Ominis. You are enough. You deserve me." You tried to reassure him.

A tear rolls down his cheek onto your hand. "I'm not capable of love. I will do something wrong. I don't know how to love. How to accept love."

"You love sebastian and anne and you love me. You are capable. I'll show you. I'll show you what love means."

You kissed his nose softly and pulled him into a thight embrace. He shook slightly in your arms. "It's okay." You tried to soothe him. A hand gently caressing over his slender back.

Touch had always meant pain for him. But your gentle touch made him forget about it for a moment. Your touch felt so different. So loving.

Ominis felt utterly loved in this moment.

[smuttykdrama]

[Hyunsu x Fem!Survivor!Reader / Sweet Home Season One]

Warnings: Depression, ED if you squint, Cha Hyunsu needs a hug, Self loathing, Eunhyuk is an ass in this, Kissing, Hyunsu is baby boy - .

Plot: You and Eunhyuk have been best friends for as long as you can remember, but your eyes are on Hyunsu. You comfort him as he goes through a hard time after going on missions for Eunhyuk.

Story under the cut!

"What does it matter to you if he's in pain or not? He's a monster who could turn at any time. He's in there to protect us."

Eunhyuk paced around outside Hyunsu's room he was confined in, scowling at you.

"(Y/N). This is my last warning. Don't get close to Cha Hyunsu. He'll only hurt you if he turns. I need to protect you-"

You sighed, angrily folding your arms, tears building up in your eyes. How could Eunhyuk, your best friend, be so cold towards another? Hyunsu was basically a prisoner in this place. They made him work all day and night exploring the building and fighting monsters, leaving him exhausted when he got back. At this point, you doubted that Eunhyuk even fed him or took care of his half healed wounds.

"Ya, Lee Eunhyuk, how could you be so thoughtless? Hyunsu has done nothing wrong. He's still human, like you and me! How could you lock him in that room and starve him?! Not to mention leaving him to heal by himself!"

You yelled furiously, really upset. You were the only one who dared approach Hyunsu, and you could tell he wasn't doing well mentally or physically.

"He isn't a human. He's a monster. I can't risk you getting hurt trying to fix him."

Eunhyuk stated calmly, unfazed by your outburst. He grabbed your hand and placed it on his chest, over his heart.

"I'm doing this for you. Feel this? My heart beats only for you, so why? Why are you so obsessed with Cha Hyunsu?"

His voice seethe with jealousy. Ah. So torturing Hyunsu was Eunhyuk's way of showing his jealousy. You always knew that Eunhyuk had a crush on you ever since middle school. But as you grew older, his attitude became more stoic and stern.

"I don't give a fuck about your little crush on me, Lee Eunhyuk. You've hurt my Hyunsu, and you're going to pay for it one day. Leave me. I'm going to see him and you can't stop me."

And with that, you walked away, entering Hyunsu's room. Eunhyuk was stunned and angered, but knee he couldn't stop you. You'd soon find out not to trust a monster. As you stepped inside, you softly called out,

"Hyunsu?"

He immediately recognised your voice and ran over to you like a lost puppy. His averting eyes and soft voice made your heart flutter. He rubbed his arm gently, mumbling.

"(Y-Y/N)? Oh...hi."

Hyunsu greeted, his head hanging low. You were appalled by the mere sight of him. He had torn clothes, bruises everywhere, half healed cuts, and looked genuinely exhausted.

"Hyunsu...how have you been?"

He looked down, gulping nervously.

"Fine.."

"Cha Hyunsu. You don't look fine...how long has it been, sweetheart?"

His head snapped up in confusion.

"How long since what?"

"How long since you've rested and had a meal?"

Hyunsu anxiously twiddled with his fingers, unable to keep still. Over the past week, you'd become someone very precious to him, ever since you'd stopped him from ending his life. He didn't want to tell you the truth. He didn't want you to worry about him...but Hyunsu knew that you'd find out eventually.

"Five days, noona..I haven't slept..the monster..it's hurting.."

He whispered sadly, unable to contain his depressed thoughts. He continued,

"I'm a monster. Monsters don't sleep or need food, right? And I'm In here because I'm a threat to everyone. Noona, it's dangerous, you should leave."

You were stunned; to see such a sweet person talking down on themselves felt extremely sad. Hyunsu's eyes filled with tears as he turned away from you, prompting you to move closer, until your front was completely up against his back. You back hugged him, snaking your hands around his waist.

"Hyunsu...you're not a monster. You're our savior, I can't imagine how exhausting this has been for you. To protect everyone. all while keeping a distance, unable to interact properly. I'm sorry about Eunhyuk and the others. They don't understand."

A tear slipped down his sunken cheek.

"Hyunsu - ah, I've brought you some food."

You said, breaking the hug and offering him some ramen. Hyunsu's eyes went wide as he saw the food. He was starving, but didn't want to trouble anyone anymore.

"I'm a monster. I won't die if I don't eat."

He stated simply, turning back around again.

"But..Hyunsu..that doesn't mean you won't feel hunger."

"I'll just...not eat..."

He insisted stubbornly. You sighed angrily and lifted his chin up with yoru hand suddenly.

"Cha Hyunsu. Eat. Eat or I'll force feed you. Then get some sleep. I'll lay with you."

You ordered him gently, but firmly, glaring into his eyes. He finally gave in, grabbing a few pieces of the ramen from you before retreating to his bed. You pulled up another chair and sat next to him, watching him consume the noodles. After a moment, he put down the bowl and turned to face you.

"Thank you, Noona...nobody else had bothered to visit me.."

Hyunsu got up from the makeshift bed and leaned over, placing a soft kiss on your cheek. Your face burned bright red as he shyly and softly kissed you.

"God, Hyunsu. Stay safe on your missions for Eunhyuk, okay? You're mine. And I don't want you hurting what's mine."

Hyunsu could've died. You. his Noona...liked him? Even if he was a depressed, tired monster, you accepted him.

"O-okay..."

Hyunsu smiled, taking your hand in his. You ruffled his hair.

"Good boy."

Eunhyuk stares at the door.