#show a little kindness and these creatures will give that kindness back in ways you didn’t realize you needed

[mashmouths]

so i started this show and it just gets worse and worseeeee not only did it lift the romance subplot directly from twilight (and not well) but they also are trying to play the forbidden love angle hard in the fantasy racism vein except it's a "cross-species" relationship between the two whitest people i've ever seen in my life and there are three people of color in the whole (first season of the) show who aren't villains and it seems that every other episode (and sometimes ebery episode and sometimes twice an episode!) there is a man physically or magically subjugating a woman and i keep waiting for the big reveal at the end to be stolen from fucking rainbow rowell

[leapdayowo]

I love the addition above since this is exactly how I’ve approached interacting with cats <3 you have to understand how they perceive our body language (a kind smile is an aggressive flash of teeth to a scared cat or kitten). I make myself small, slow, and avoid eye contact to show I am not interested in them and am not going to bother them while also not being a threat. I let a cat sniff me and try to convey when I’m going to pet them by making a slow reach to them in their eye sight. With Brioche, who is my year and a half old cat who I’m trying to house train, I’ve learned to read her energy and moods and adjust my behaviors accordingly. However, there are times when she nips or does something I don’t want her to, so I channel older cat energy and bap her on the head or pinch behind her elbow (not enough to hurt her, but enough to know she crossed a boundary). I also will do a big sigh every now and then when I want Brioche to settle down at night to sleep while I lay down with my eyes closed. It’s an obvious indication to her I am relaxed and she should be too. I’ve grown up around a lot of cats my whole life, so I’ve observed how they interact with one another both as kitten to kitten, kitten to cat, and cat to cat so this approach is natural to me. 9/10 if I get bit or scratched it was my fault for misreading a cat’s body language, or ignoring what they were telling me.

A little bit more about Brioche (and to an extension some other cats in my family) is that she has learned my routine of when I do things. She knows roughly when I wake up and when to demand food (something that took 2 weeks of me ignoring or compromising with her for her to learn), she knows how to get my attention when she needs her little box cleaned or if she wants me in my room (because she wants to me in my room, but only if I’m in there too). That last one is actually amusing (and a bit annoying I’ll admit at times) because she also has learned roughly when I go to bed. She will do all the things to get my attention because she wants the lights out and for me to sleep (usually so she can sleep with me for a few hours). She also does this for naps (which I unfortunately cannot always do). But from an outside perspective, she’s being a brat and causing problems for no clear reason, but the cat I grew up with did this too, so I learned from him that this behavior means bedtime. And wouldn’t you know? The minute I go to bed, Brioche starts to calm and settle down. We have to meet these creatures at least halfway with communication because they know what they want but when they try to communicate it, we as humans don’t always understand. This is also why people might tell a young couple to get a puppy before they have a kid, because it gives you a taste of what having a baby-> toddler-> child is like

this is amazing 🐈 ♥️♥️

[darkbluekies]

Stupid people

Yandere!mafia!oc x reader

Summary: a number sends Silas a picture of darling that sends him into rage

Warnings: murder, mentions of NSFW, Silas lashes out towards darling, guilt, slight indication of a character asking if it was consensual (it was — the deed, not the pictures), pictures taken without permission, punching and kicking between legs

Word count: 2.7k

A/N: to clarify, the photos are taken AFTER the deed, not during!

There's only two people Silas likes enough to let them be in his office for more than asking a question — you and SIC.

“Stupid people are my favorite kind of people”, SIC says from the couch, eyes glued onto his phone. “Some idiot here tried to jump from a roof.”

“If only our enemies did that so that i didn't have to go kill them”, Silas smirks.

“Since when were we that lucky?”

A notification on his own phone caught his attention. Silas picks it up and unlocks it, seeing that the notification is from an unsaved number. He clenches his jaw. Photos. It takes a second for him to realize what — who — is in these two photos. He can recognise that back among millions. He sees that back every night, always holding it close to his chest.

“Motherfucker!” he shouts and rises from his chair in a swift.

“What?” SIC asks quickly, looking up from his screen.

Silas slams his phone down on the floor. It shatters and explodes in every direction. SIC jumps up from the couch.

“Woah, what’s going on?” he asks quickly. 

Silas can't reply. His heart is hammering in his throat. If he tries to speak, it'll jump out. His entire body is shaking. He's been mad before, but nothing compares to what he feels when you are involved.

“Silas?” SIC asks. “Sit down.”

He presses Silas down in the chair again.

“What happened?” he asks. “Give me a real fucking answer this time.”

“Some disgusting little bitch sent me photos of Y/N”,  he spits out, growing angrier by every word. “Naked, in a bed. I think you can figure out the rest yourself.”

SIC blinks. “Shit. Who?”

Silas gestures manically towards the broken phone. “I didn't write the number down before I fucking smashed it!”

“Alright. I'll take out the sim card and put it in my phone. I can find out.”

“Don't look at the photos, got that? I'm not joking. I will beat you up if I find out that you've looked at the photos.”

“Don't worry, boss, I won't.”

Silas sighs in frustration. He storms out of his office, up the stairs and throws up the door to your shared bedroom. You're nowhere to be found.

“Y/N!” he shouts angrily.

You come out of the bathroom, looking bewildered. A fear grows on your face when you realize how mad he is.

“What's wrong?” you ask quickly.

“Who the fuck have taken pics of you while having sex?!” he shouts. “Who is the low creature that has pictures of you?!”

Your eyes widen.

“What?” you ask. “Silas-”

He moves closer and you can't describe his demeanor in any other way than threatening. You stumble backwards, finally reaching the wall. Even when he's mad, he'd never do things to make you scared of him, never show you the side he shows his men and enemies. But this time, he doesn't seem to care about holding back. You get to see what everyone else sees.

“Whoever the little fucker is, I will shove that camera of his so far up his ass it'll puncture a lung, do you understand that?” Silas spits, face mere centimeters from your face. 

“Silas, I-”, you stutter.

Silas grabs the perfume standing on the shelf beside you and sends it flying across The room, breaking against the wall. You watch on in complete horror. Not even in the basement is he this violent, not around you.

Behind him, you see SIC run into the room, stopping in the doorway. He watches on with wide eyes.

“Who is it?” he spits before raising his voice. “Give me the name of the worthless little creature! I'll kill him!”

“Silas, I don't know!” you shout loudly in order to be heard over his own shouting. Tears blurry your vision as silence fills the room. “I d-don't know, I swear! I have no knowledge of a-any pictures taken of me. Please don’t be mad at me, I don’t know anything, I s-swear …”

You have wrapped your arms around yourself. You look so incredibly small. And helpless. He feels as if someone has punched him right in the stomach. He can't bring himself to shout at you. The fire in his eyes seems to blow out, leaving his eyes as dark as they should. He breathes heavily, feeling empty and painfully aware of everything around him — every little sound, movement. He finally realizes what's going on.

“Fuck”, he breathes out in a whisper and pulls you into his arms, into a tight embrace. “I'm so sorry.”

You sob into his shoulder, voice getting muffled in his white shirt. Silas hugs you as if his life depends on it.

“Baby, I didn't mean to shout at you”, he whispers. “I'm not mad at you, I'm mad at that disgusting filth. Not you, do you understand?”

He pulls you back and covers your face in apologetic kisses, caressing your cheeks and wiping your tears.

“Are you okay?” he asks, grabbing your face and forcing you to look him in the eyes.

You nod slightly and sniffle. Still shaking, but not mortified. 

“What pictures?” you ask with an unsteady voice.

Silas looks at SIC.

“Did you get the number?” he asks.

“No, I didn't have time to move over the sim card before I heard the glass shattering.”

Silas clears his throat. His ears turn red.

“Go retrieve the number and then come back”, he says.

SIC nods and walks out. Silas turns to you. He cups your cheeks and kisses your lips carefully.

“Sorry”, he says again.

“It’s … okay”, you mumble.

It doesn't seem to register for him. He has a guilty look in his black eyes.

“Silas … what pictures?” you ask again, dreading the answer yet needing to know.

“There’s nothing to worry about, I shouldn’t have told you. I will take care of it, okay?”

“You got so upset about it … something must be wrong. Have someone taken pics of me while I’ve … had sex?”

Silas can’t tell you. He knows how distraught you’ll be. 

“No, not while you had … after you were done … I don’t know”, he says. “I could have misunderstood the pictures. I broke my phone right after seeing them.” He notices how you give him an unsure gaze as he mentions his phone. “I get worked up quickly.”

You sniffle. Silas wipes your tears again and hugs you even tighter, resting his cheek on the top of your head. He feels like a complete fool, how could he slip up like that? He would never shout at you, never make you feel threatened. For fuck sake, you’re supposed to seek shelter and comfort in him!

“Are you sure that you’re okay?” Silas asks. 

“Mhm”, you mumble. “Just shaking.”

“I can tell.” His embrace tightens. “Let’s sit down, alright?”

He moves you to the bed and sits down with you beside him. 

“What have you done today?” he asks and wraps his arm around your shoulders. 

“I’ve been watching some shows”, you reply. 

“Which one?”

“Some cartoon … I don’t remember the name.”

“Do you think I’d like it?”

You give him a small smile and shake your head. “No, it’s too cheesy for you.”

Silas smiles. “What type of fucking stereotype is that? Show me and I’ll decide for myself.”

You reach for the tablet and show him a few minutes of the cartoon. He leans onto you, wrapping himself around you like a boa constrictor. 

The door opens and SIC returns with his phone in his hand. 

“Got it”, he says and walks over to the bed. “Y/N, take a look and-”

Silas slaps his hand away. 

“Are you fucking out of your mind?” he scolds him. “You’re not showing them those!”

SIC holds his phone out of Silas’s reach. 

“I am”, SIC replies.

Silas stands up. The animalistic, lredatory light is back in his eyes. You don’t doubt that he would punch him. 

“I am going to show these pictures to Y/N to confirm that they remember the sex happening”, SIC explains sharply. “Because if they don’t, we might have a worse crime on our hands.”

Silas doesn’t reply. He seems to think, and seems to consider whether he should punch the man or not. He nods in defeat. SIC gives you the phone and you take a mortified look at the two pictures. 

“Do you recognise where you are in these two pictures?” SIC asks. “Do you know when this was? Do you have memories of it?”

You look at the pictures, fearing that you’re not going to recognise the location or remember what happened … or who you were with.

“I know when and where this is”, you say. “It was five years ago. I remember it.”

“You're sure you remember it?” SIC asks.

“Yes … but I didn't know that he took pics …” 

“Okay, the fucker is dead”, Silas decides.

“What was his name?” SIC asks.

“‘Eric’ something”, you say. “I met him at a party. He was nice, or so i thought, and-”

Silas runs a hand through his black hair and sighs.

“I guess that he wasn't that nice”, you mumble.

“Pricks like that are never nice. They're just polite enough to lure people to get what they want. Who knows how many innocent people's photos he has on his hard drive?”

“Silas, can you do me a favor?”

“What?”

“If you manage to find him-”

“Not if; when.”

“When you manage to find him, give him an extra punch from me, will you?”

Silas smiles. “I'll give him tenfolds.”

Finding him is easier than the poor fellow had anticipated. Silas pities him. He's either too stupid to know who he is or has a death wish. He can't decide which one is worse.

“God, you're even uglier than i imagined”, Silas scoffs as he sees the man for the first time.

He's held up by two of his men, body pounded with punches beyond recognizable, but they've left his face untouched. That's for Silas to ruin.

“You're even uglier than your mess of a body”, he says, grabbing the man's face, tuning it carelessly. “We haven't even touched this yet. What did you gain from this? Not a lot, I see. I mean, you're here, in my basement, about to be killed. Can't say that I understand your intentions.”

“Did you like the pictures?” Eric asks, voice drowning in painful moans.

“‘Did i like the pictures?’” Silas repeats, appalled by the man's lack of remorse. “I don't need your pitiful pictures. I get the full act from whatever angle I want.”

It shouldn't make him cocky, but bragging about it always fills him with pride.

“Give me his phone”, he orders.

One of his men digs up the phone from Eric's pocket. He forces him to unlock it.

“Do you take these types of pictures often?” Silas asks, eyes narrowing as he scrolls past hundreds of women sleeping in beds. “What even are these?”

“I take a picture of the woman after our session, after she's fallen asleep”, Eric replies, “as a trophy.”

“As a-”, he cuts himself off. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Silas hits him with all his might. Eric's head shoots backwards, his neck acting like a jojo to get it back. Blood runs down from his nose.

“Delete all the pictures”, he tells SIC and gives him the phone. “From the phone, any cloud, any other hard-drive. These pictures will never be seen by anyone ever again.”

“Yes, boss”, SIC replies and takes the phone.

He disappears up the stairs. Silas turns to Eric.

“How did you get my number?” he asks. “And, when you got it, didn't you check to see who it belonged to? You're pretty stupid.”

“I just know that the number belonged to Y/N’s new boyfriend”, Eric replies.

“Husband.”

It shouldn't fill him with such pride at a moment like this, yet it does. 

“You're going to die now anyway, so it doesn't matter if I tell you my name”, Silas says. 

One of his men gives him a knife with a long shiny blade.

“Boss”, SIC says from the top of the stairs. “Y/N’s here.”

Silas hurries to give the knife back and gestures for him to hide it. 

“I’ll come upstairs”, he says. 

Before he has time to move, you've bursted past SIC. He tries to grab at you, but you're already half down the stairs.

“You absolute worthless piece of shit”, you spit.

Silas raises his eyebrows. 

Oh?

You run right over to Eric and slap him. Silas stands stunned. It takes him a few moments to gather himself and stop looking like a fool. He turns to the stairs where SIC stands, holding his hand over his face, laughing silently. He folds and has to hold onto the wall.

“How could you take such pictures?” you ask him. “What gave you the right?”

Silas grabs your shoulder to pull you away from him, but you shake him off.

“It's not like I took pics while we had sex”, Eric says, voice sounding even more painful.

Silas smirks. He can already tell that'll happen by the way your eyes widen. And he won't stop it. Won't even try to. You hit the man again and kick him between the legs. He tries to curl up, but is being held up by Silas’s men. 

“Okay, okay”, Silas says and grabs your shoulders, pulling you backwards. “Enough of that. SIC, take Y/N to the bedroom and make sure they stay there.”

SIC grabs you out of his arms. Silas grabs the knife once more. 

“What should we start with?” he asks, spinning the knife. “Your hands? Arms? Legs? Decide, coward.”

SIC forces you upstairs before he has the time to cut off any body parts.

“Let me go!” you mutter. 

“Just stay quiet until we get up to the bedroom”, SIC says. “Nice shot you got, by the way. I know it caught Silas by surprise. That’s hard to do, you know.”

“He deserves more.”

“And Silas will give him that, don’t you worry. That is not your job. You got two punches and one kick in, that’s enough.”

WHen you try to run back downstairs, he picks you up over his shoulder and continues upstairs. 

“Don’t give me more trouble”, he sighs. 

SIC walks into the bedroom and places you down on the floor before barricading the door with his body to make sure you’re not making a run for it. 

“The pictures are gone”, SIC says. “All of them — of you and of other people.”

“How many were there?”

“Hundreds. All taken when they had fallen asleep afterwards. He kept them like trophies.”

The door opens before he’s done with his sentence. Silas walks in, finally looking pleased. 

“Dona already?” SIC asks. 

“I got impatient”, he mutters and closes the door. “Little thing, are you okay?”

You nod. Silas hugs you, kissing the top of your head. He still feels awful about shouting at you. He squeezes you even tighter. 

“Thank you”, you say quietly. “You helped not only me but also a lot of other people. That’s a good thing.”

His heart clenches. He has apologized a million times and you have forgiven him … but he can’t seem to forgive himself. It all happened so quickly, yet it lingers in him. 

“Of course”, he says. “Scumbags need to be taken care of the right way. I kind of pitied the man. He must have been extremely stupid to let me know about him. Good that he was stupid though.”

Thinking about him makes him furious once more, but he reminds himself that it’s over. He has gotten his punishment … and Silas has saved people. Innocent people should never be punished for crimes they didn’t commit.

No one will ever see any those pictures again. No one will have to deal with that man ever again. 

[ja3hwa]

♡ 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊✞𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 ♡

Welcome to this years Kinktober festivities!! I've been working hard on all of these, so I hope you can all enjoy each and every one of them. (I'll also be pinning this post for the duration of October, so if you miss a day, you can check my blog for updates ♡)

There are also some specials in amongst the days for the lovely event my dearest friend @whatudowhennooneseesyou is hosting. So please go check her out and the event ♡♡. I hope you all are ready to sin.

♡ Every day, a new day will be revealed. So sit back, relax, and don't forget to enjoy the ride ♡

Masterlist | Navigation | Buy me a Kofi ♡

Day 1: Tit fucking [Winner Takes All]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : If you win, you get a prize...But if yeosang wins he gets to fuck your tits.

Day 2: Masturbation [My Kind Of Prize]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : You couldn’t wait any longer for your boyfriend to finish the match, so you decided to take matters into your own hands.

Day 3: Dry humping/Clothed sex [What Was Rule One Again]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : There were rules Mingi needed to follow, but had the tendency to break them.

Day 4: Biting/Bondage [No Bark But All Bite]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : It was just an innocent game of truth of dare. Nothing bad was going to happen... Right?

Day 5: Gentle sex [Special Treatment]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Your loving husband just needed some extra care, and being an amazing wife, you were more than willing to provide.

Day 6: Cock warming [Focused, I'm Focused]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Mingi finds his little mouse trying to do her exams. Too bad he needs her right now.

Day 7: Rough sex [Our Girl]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Yunho and Mingi couldn't stop thinking about you since they first tainted your beautiful body. They were craving more and lucky for them, exams just finished.

Day 8: Voyeurism [Eye's On Him]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : There was no denying that Seonghwa had always loved to watch his leaders' angel being pampered. It was his favourite past time afterall.

Day 9: Bike sex - [His His His]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : You were his girl, and he can take you wherever and whenever he wants.

Day 10: Thigh riding - [Sit]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : You couldn't sit still the moment you started drinking. Jongho ended up dragging you home to punish you by the end of the night.

Day 11: Double penetration - [Lonely Together]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : A creature cursed to wander the earth alone, finds himself falling for a sweet little human that finds peace in the lonely forestry.

DAY 11 SPECIAL: ALIEN AU - [One With The Cosmos]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Travelling in deep space, you and your crew must deliver and pick up cargo to a jump station. Woosan is to accompany you on this mission. San being the muscle and Woo as the navigator and scientists...problem? You got lost.

Day 12:  Pussy slapping/squirting - [Just One]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : You had one rule. One little rule, and you decided it was a good idea to break it.

Day 13: Getting caught - [Show Time]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : You didn't expect the night to go the way it did, but who are you to complain...

Day 14: Cum play - [So Soaked]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Your roommates decided to play a little game, and you were the prize.

Day 15: Oral/Fingering - [Vocal Training]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Yeosang was struggling withi is vocal range. Stressing over it, he decided he needed a snack break. Good thing he knew just the treat to eat.

Day 16: Fae/Orc - [Knight In Bloodied Armour]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Yunho was a myth amongst men. Yet here he stood, ready to protect you and take you away from the cruel life you lead... The only catch is you have to give him something in return... your hand in marriage.

DAY 16 SPECIAL: COLLARING - [Pretty Boy]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Who knew Mingi would be into collars.

Day 17: Drunk sex - [Pour Up]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Shot after shot, the night became lively by the minute. Mingi and Seonghwa were finding it increasingly hard to keep their hands off you as more alcohol ran through their system. Let's just hope they dont get caught being too handys with you by your brother...

Day 18:  Monster Under The Bed - [Guilty Confessions]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : A creature that feeds off lust and fear finds himself falling for the very prey he was supposed to consume. What a cruel twist of fate.

DAY 18 SPECIAL: BITING -[Sign On The Dotted Line]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : He had signed the dotted line for his revenge, but now, he was starting to think there could be more lying beneath his contract.

Day 19: Bath sex - [La Douleur Exquise]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : You searched far and wide for the perfect spell to bring Yeosang back to the earthly plain, and now that he's here, you're gonna use your time wisely of course.

Day 20: Priest/Demon - [Sinfully Blinded]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : There was a demon on the loose. Wreaking havoc in the small village that San was a priest in. And little did Father San know is that the creature was a lot closer than he would think.

Day 21: Sex pollen - [A Blooming Mess]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : It's just one quick to your home planet. It's just one dangerous plant for collection. Nothing can go wrong, right... right?

Day 22: A/B/O - [Subtle Scents]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : He was your best friend. The only person would could trust. But yet you had kept a secret from you that would change your relationship in an instant. How would he react once he finds out?

Day 23: Masked man - [Mr. Rough And Rowdy]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : You haven't seen your friends in years given you had been overseas studying. Now that you're back, you've noticed how much they've all grown. And what better to celebrate your return than an innocent party.

Day 24: Haunted Maze - [Cravings And Desires]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Wooyoung found a note about you being taken away from him. And now he'll have to play the maze in order to get his prize back.

Day 25: Angel/Worship - [Heavens Gate]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : His job was to be an observer. Do not under any circumstances interact or intervene with human lives. Oh, how he royally fucked that up.

Day 26: Vampire/bloodplay - [Exquisite]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : You were saved by them. Taken cared for by them. Everything you could ever ask they provided to the best of their abilities... but why?

Day 27: Pirates/Sirens - [Alluring Whispers]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Through life at sea, it's proven that anyone deserves to be loved. Even a pretty pirate and a thieving siren.

Day 28: Werewolf - [Don't You Dare]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : With Rogue's hot on the packs trail, Yunho had to make a tough decision. He needed to be able to know you could handle yourself even when you were away from him. So weekly training sessions became your new normal. But tonights training session went a little of course...

Day 29: Giants - [Dearest Husband, Darling Wife]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : Being betrothed and shipped off to far away from your kingdom was the least of your worries when you saw exactly who you were marrying...

Day 30: Alien/Egg laying/breeding - [Try Me]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : You husband is in need of your "person assistance"... unlucky for you, San and Wooyoung want a taste of you also.

Day 31: DND Ft. Gang Bang [To Love Is To Be One]

↳ 【Synopsis】 : You want, needed to prove that you could achieve just as much greatness like the other guild members. So what better than a hunt that only you and your team can solve.

—

© 𝐉𝐚𝟑𝐡𝐰𝐚. Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, repost, or use my work in any way, shape, or form.

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑 : 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑁 𝑁𝑂 𝑊𝐴𝑌 𝐴 𝑇𝑅𝑈𝐸 𝐷𝐸𝑃𝐼𝐶𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁 𝑂𝐹 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐴𝑇𝐸𝐸𝑍 𝑀𝐸𝑀𝐵𝐸𝑅𝑆. 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑆 𝑃𝑈𝑅𝐸 𝐹𝐼𝐶𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁 𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝐼𝑆 𝑁𝑂𝑇 𝑇𝑂 𝐵𝐸 𝑇𝐴𝐾𝐸𝑁 𝑆𝐸𝑅𝐼𝑂𝑈𝑆𝐿𝑌.

[luveline]

oh my god. steve harrington with a dreamy/luna lovegood like girlfriend would be so sweet! i feel like he would love how she’s always so kind and her head’s always in the clouds. he’d find her adorable, especially when she out of nowhere says something a little odd.

“What was that?” Steve asks. 

You aren’t talking to him, but he pretends you were. 

“I said, the sun doesn’t look very happy today.” 

Steve finds the sun, a white ache in his eyes behind a buffet of clouds. “I can’t tell.”

“Exactly.” 

Steve gets his arms under your armpits to drag you into his chest. You’re always content to be moved around, especially if it’s Steve doing the lifting. You slot yourself into his embrace unthinking. 

“I think you’d be much happier if you had a couch on the porch,” you say, “though maybe you’d suddenly like rock metal too. What do you think they have it for?” 

“Not sure. Afternoon people watching, maybe.” 

“Well, this is fun.” 

Eddie and Robin attempt to set up the sprinkler and water slide in the grass. Neither seems to have noticed that it’s too cold for this sort of play, both dedicated to the last day of summer. Usually you entertain either of them, partial to nonsense, but today you’ve stuck by Steve’s side. Probably because you’re cold. 

“I might get one, if you want one,” he says. 

“You know you can get a couch from the Salvation Army for ten bucks.” 

“And the bedbugs for free.” 

You laugh loudly, suddenly, before it chokes into a fizzy sort of giggle. “Most bugs are cute, but they give me the heebies.” 

“I don’t need any more strange creatures in bed with me, either way.” 

“You mean me.” You turn in his arms. He loves to feel it, your skin under his hands, the total ease you feel being smushed against him like two pieces of bread in the same pack. You jam yourself against him, your fingers working behind his neck. Cold. Rings tickling him, your fingernails scratching gently. “But I’m not a creature,” you murmur, “and I won’t be in your bed again, if that’s how you feel.” 

“Then who will help you fall asleep?” he asks. 

“I volunteer!” Eddie calls. 

“He looks like he gives a good back rub,” you say. 

Steve tips you away from him. “Idiot.” 

“Steve, doesn’t he?” you ask. “Eddie, come over here and rub our backs.” 

“Stay where you are,” Steve says to Eddie firmly. He pushes you away from him, trying his best not to laugh as you giggle and whine at being pushed. “Get lost.” 

“I’m going to take my shirt off now.” 

“For the back rub?” Steve asks, whiplashed. 

“No, doofus, for the water slide! Why would I take my shirt off for a back rub?” 

“I’ll show you why.” 

“I already know you’re good at them,” you say. 

“I’ll show you again.” 

You pause. A smile stretches over your lips. “Mm, okay.” 

[gtgbabie0]

-Cregan Stark x Dreamer!Reader

{The war has brought many casualties, those that you’ve already seen begin to unfold before you}

I’ve received many requests for another part so here it is, sorry for the long wait. Enjoy my lovelies!! 💕

//!CW!// spoilers for Rhaenyra’s death//

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The sound of men and clanging metal intermingled throughout the camp, overwhelming your senses. It was a sound Cregan promised would soon become a distant noise. He was wrong.

You sit on the bed, palms pressing against your ears with a deep frown. You hated it here, hated the cold and the men and the noise and the way they all looked at you with a strange look in their eyes as if you were some kind of creature from beyond the wall that their nursemaids used to scare them with.

You missed Winterfell, the warm castle and the glass garden that you spent hours in, admiring the winter roses. It had quickly become your home and you were sick with the desire to go back, but Cregan wanted you here he needed you here.

You just wanted to escape from your mind, the murmurs and whispers. The way it screams at you to make the blasted noise all stop.

“Apologies, there was some trouble with the-” his words fall short as he spots you, wrapped up in furs, hunched over and covering your ears as if you were in pain. The sight was an immediate punch to the gut.

He felt awful in truth, he should’ve left you home in warmth where you could be comfortable, but the daunting thought of you going through another episode whilst he was gone, far away from you… it was enough to make his stomach turn with unease.

“Y/n?…” he calls your name softly, sitting down beside you with a small frown. His index finger and thumb cup your chin to tilt your head, making you look up at him.

“I want to go back home.” You tell him, your voice trembling with sadness and from the cold air that was clearly getting to you.

He nods in understanding, working his fingers around your wrists to bring your hands away from your ears and down into his lap. Gods, you weren’t making him feel any better.

“I know my girl, just hang in there.” He whispers the same thing he has told before. His voice was hoarse with exhaustion but loving all the same. His thumb caresses over your knuckles, trying to soothe away your troubles and bring you warmth.

However, his gentleness does very little to quell the sudden pang of frustration that hits your chest.

“It’s cold and noisy and I’m sick of being looked at like some sort of monster!… you’ve dragged me out here for your own sake without a single care about me!” The words come out too quick and too harsh. Regret immediately fills your heart.

He stops for a moment, looking a little taken aback by your sudden anger. his expression softens as he squeezes your hand. “You know that’s not true.” He tells you firmly, his hands still holding your own tightly. He was worried for you, deeply, it showed in smaller ways but it was still fiercely there. “You’re here for your own good… I’m sorry.”

He can tell you are miserable, the way your lips purse together in a pout and how your eyes seem to droop. such an expression didn’t suit you. Silence settles between the pair of you, his thumb rubbing across your soft palm.

“Forgive me for shouting, I do not mean to.” The words leave your lips in a soft whisper, defeat weighing heavily against your shoulders as you slouch.

“Don’t be silly, I’ve dealt with unruly men with tempers far worse than yours for weeks now” He sighs, giving you a small smirk which you return weakly.

“I could be worse if you’d like.” You tease lightly, trying to make light of the situation you are currently stuck in.

“No, you’re alright.” He deadpans, trying to fight the smile that tugs at the corners of his lips as he brings your hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss against your knuckles. “You’ve already got the dragon's temper.” His words are muffled against the back of your hand and for a moment you feel the warmth that you craved.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

The following days were slow, not much happened and the Ravens seemed to be few and far between. You were nowhere near Kings Landing, the snow on the floor could attest to that.

You found peace within your tent- away from prying eyes who judged you without even knowing you- curled up in the furs enjoying how the air carried a twinge of the warmth dragged from the bonfire that was in the centre of the camp. Soon enough sleep would capture you, allowing you a small moment of respite.

Cregan had left you not too long ago, whispering a promise of returning as soon as possible whilst pressing gentle kisses against your forehead in an attempt to coax you to sleep. The sun had set since then, and the camp was now much calmer than it had been as of late, it seems as though the men were getting restless.

Sleep had always been a false sense of security for you, ever since you could remember. Rhaenyra, your mother, had tried every remedy known to the Maester on Dragonstone, she had even resorted to sending ravens to the Citadel but to no avail.

With the history books telling her little to nothing and the Maesters all at a loss she felt as if she had failed you, but then again most dreamers in your lineage were failed. Doomed from the moment they first drew breath.

You were clearly no exception, and your dreamless sleep soon turned violent. The cries, hot dragon fire, a woman burning, the smell of charred flesh. you had seen this one before but not like this, not so real as if you were witnessing it first hand.

It plays on repeat and you can’t seem to wake or move for that matter, paralysed to do nothing but watch. Then you see her, your mother, her purple eyes meet your own as she stands before a golden Dragon. She does not flinch or cry out for the Gods but merely braces herself for the inevitable.

The sight of her burning body sends a searing heat through your spine almost as if you had taken her place. Suddenly you’re jolting upright, screaming until your lungs feel like they might just collapse and kicking the furs off of your body.

“No! no… no, no.” You mumble to yourself, standing up on unsteady feet as you stumble out of the tent and into the freezing cold air. The chill gives you relief then everything goes numb, and the world around you doesn’t feel stable enough like some kind of weary dream.

Smoke was the only thing you could smell, so strong that it chokes you up as you continue to rush through the camp. Muttering about fire and dragons to yourself, completely crazed in the eyes of the men around you.

“Lady Stark?!” The sound of worried voices filters through the ringing in your ears. It’s too much.

Cregan had long abandoned the meeting in one of the tents as soon as your scream echoed through the camp, shouting demands to the men around him whilst rushing to try and get you in a desperate attempt.

Strong hands grasping your elbows causes you to stop in your tracks, it was Cregan, you were safe. You stare up at him all teary-eyed and shallow breaths. Your own hands tremble as you hold his forearms tightly.

“She’s burning… breathing dragon, burning flesh, she's burning.” You tell him frantically, your fingers digging into the leather on his arms. “She’s burning.” The words all come out in harsh gasps.

“Seven hells… you’re going to freeze.” He rasps, taking off his fur cloak to drape it over your shoulders, pulling it around your body to protect you from the chill in the air.

You continue to hold onto him for dear life, muttering a series of “No… no… please no.” Against his chest as he holds you close to him tightly, his hand cradling the back of your head.

“Go on, off with you all!… you’ve got better things to be doing.” He shouts, watching the men disappear back into their own tents, busying themselves with a few odd tasks.

He guides your tense body back over to the warmth of your shared tent, sitting you down on the bed as you continue to murmur incoherent words of protest. Cregan brushes his fingers through your hair, trying to pull you out of his dazed state.

“She’s going to die… she's dying, I don’t want her to die.” You panic, hands grasping his own with a worried look, brows pulled together.

“Who, who will die?” He asks softly, the rough pad of his thumb gently rubs over your knuckles, soothing the tremble in your hands.

“My mother… it was so clear, please, we have to warn her.” The words are a struggle to get out, trying to fight the way your throat closes up.

He watches the helplessness in your eyes intensify, how your fingers tighten around his hands in desperation. There was little either of you could do so far away, your dragon had died a whelp and the ravens would never make it to Kings Landing in time. All he can do is pull you against his chest, wrapping his arms around you.

“I’m sorry, my sweet, I’m sorry…” he murmurs against your hairline, holding you as you cry against his shoulder.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

You never lost hope, for the following days. You waited on bated breath for further news, constantly looking up at the sky for any Ravens… Dragons… anything that would be a sign she was still alive. Nothing had come until the early hours of the next morning.

Two scrolls with the wax seal of House Targaryen. Two deaths that would officially end the ongoing conflict.

“Y/n?…” Cregan calls your name softly, watching you intently as the letters fall from between your fingers and onto the floor.

You shake your head in disbelief, eyes fixed on the ground beneath you. You did not cry, you couldn’t and it destroyed Cregan. He’d rather your tears than this distant look of despair that glazes across your eyes. His hand rests against your own, fingers caressing your palm gently.

“The stranger looms behind me, whispering the fates of my loved ones into my ears and all I can do is stand by and watch… I am useless.” Your whisper, voice so hushed and broken.

Cregan doesn’t know what to say, he’s at a loss and he fears any words that dare leave his lips will just end up coming out as a sob. Instead, he pulls on your hand until you’re collapsing against him, head tucked under his chin.

“Don’t blame yourself… she wouldn’t want that.” He whisper, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as your arms wrap around him, clinging to him like he was your lifeline.

He spoke the truth, he’d already heard plenty about your mother from both you and Jacaerys enough to know that her love for you was beyond what words could ever describe.

Maybe it was the exhaustion… the cold… or the grief that broke the dam in your eyes, making you cry out in choked sobs against his chest as his fingers brush through your hair soothingly.

“I want to go home Cregan…” you beg him through tears, going limp against his sturdy form.

“I’ll get you home sweet girl… I will.” He promises, not daring to let you go just in case you completely crumble before him. He would keep his oath he made to your mother, to protect you even from your own mind. Cregan would soon take you home but not before you witness your youngest brothers crowning.

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[multifandomfanatic02]

"Stuck in a Trap."

𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 : deer!Alastor x human!Reader

𝙎𝙮𝙣𝙤𝙥𝙨𝙞𝙨 : reader finds herself wandering the woods alone and falls upon a wounded stag stuck in a bear trap.

𝙏𝙖𝙜𝙨 : deer Alastor, human reader, marked, soulmate trope in a way

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝘾𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 : 1.3k

It was a cool night in spring. Nice enough to take a walk outside. You had decided to chose a descent into the woods behind your house. It wasn't dangerous or anything, had a nice gravel path. A few miles into it became an attraction to some tourists. Those who were into the whole haunting thing.

The most you heard were some silly ghost stories. What nonsense, you thought. Some believed there was a portal straight to Hell sitting in the thicket somewhere. Some believed there have victims from past murders buried in there. You weren't exactly into paranormal shit, you've lived and roamed these woods for years now.

No, the closest you have seen were the crazy amounts of dead deer lying on the floor. Hunters perhaps? Maybe mountain lions? Nah. The state of the deer made you feel bad, queezy more like. The poaching of the animals was upsetting to say the least. Whenever you went on these walks, you made sure to break whatever traps you could find. More often than not, all being bear traps. It was illegal in this area after all. Nobody really enforces the law around here considering how scared everyone was with this place.

You had been walking for what felt like a few hours. Your cue being the red and pink sky to head home. Oh but it just feels so right to be there. It wasn't until you heard a loud animal like cry that you stopped in your tracks. You bet it was a deer caught in a trap. What were you thinking following a scary sound like this. This kinda thing should only happen in scary movies.

After a few minutes of wandering around for the source of the sound, the creature in question comes in to view. It was a stag. What a divine animal this was. It was a lot larger than most deer, the biggest set of antlers you had seen. And it's color was dazzling. It was as if it reflected the crimson sky above it. There was no way that it was it's natural color.

Inching closer to it, the reason of it's cry came to your attention. A hoof was caught in a bear trap like you originally thought. Blood dripped from it's ankle, in attempt to soothe it, he licked it. Blood staining around it's mouth. Looks like he'd been there for quite some time.

Bending down to the ground, you hold up your hands hoping the creature would realize you were going to try and release it. All he did was bellow in hopes to scare you away. But you just stared in amazement. Your hand just inches away from the trap, the stag notices and understands your actions. Staying still for a few seconds.

His hoof finally free, you put the bloodied old bear trap in your bag. The beautiful creature bows his head slightly, one of his front hooves folding beneath him, obviously showing a little gratitude. You bent down to meet his gaze, returning the unusual human-like gesture. You didn't really think about it too hard.

Your hand reached out to him, in hopes he'll accept your advances. The stags ears laid back against his head as he pressed his forehead into yours. He backed away slightly, giving the entirety of your forearm a well deserved lick before bounding back into the thicket of the woods.

What a strange interaction. Something you surely won't ever forget whether you liked it or not. Upon looking down, you notice a green glow surrounding the area the creature marked. Looked like it was making out a subtle A-like symbol. Well time to proceed home and wash off.

A few years had gone by and the mark still remained on your arm. After many specialist appointments and surgeries, the doctors were just as stumped as you were. It wasn't a tattoo of any kind, no ink was found in the skin. It wasn't skin cancer. And crazy as it is, after several biopsies the mark simply grew over the scar tissue. It was a complete mystery as to what that mark was. And if you told everyone where you truly got it, they would all think you were nuts.

If that wasn't enough, you often felt prying eyes around your secluded house. The paranormal stories were beginning to sound sane after all the experiences you had. There have been many nights where the stereo would turn on by itself or static would just be heard. Or nights when a dark yet comforting shadow would loom over you as you slept. You eventually became accustomed to these intrusions. Most would have moved out by now.

Whatever was here was like a dark guardian angel. You weren't thinking about the holy ones whom would just, look after you, wish you the best of luck and bring you to heaven when you died. No. This one was different. The type to personally interfere with human affairs to keep you safe. The idea wasn't too off-putting considering you had done been in two severe car accidents and a tornado; somehow leaving all situations unscathed.

More often than not, you would have dreams about the stag you had found in the woods all those years ago. Talking about how you belonged to him. How you live under his protection. He had a name too but you couldn't quite put your finger on it. His voice was really unique and drew you in like a magnet. The dreams you've received were so surreal. Like you've known him all your life.

If this was paranormal, you were going to do some digging. The term typically refers to the dead, right? The town library should have records of your property and the folks who lived there before you.

It thankfully didn't take much to get the information you were looking for. There were several newspaper articles from the 1930's that included details of a man named Alastor. Alastor.. that was the name you heard in your dream. It explained the mark on your arm.

He was a local serial killer who targeted those who were for the most part ill intentioned. Especially toward women. He was found dead in the woods behind your house, burying one of his victims. Mistakened for an animal. Which is why to this day hunting is illegal in those set of woods.

More newspaper articles opened up about his profession. Despite the mans.. er.. hobbies, he was quite the talent as a radio host back in the 20's. Youtube even had some of the old audio recordings. Your heart soared upon hearing his voice. This was him. The stag you saved, the shadows watching over you, and the voice that whispered to you in your dreams.

What didn't make sense was.. why was he a stag of all things? Why did it feel real? Well, as it turns out, the power of the human soul varies in the afterlife. Some could just interact with inanimate objects while others can only muster a sound whether it be naturally or through something called a spirit box. Then, what was Alastor?

Ultimately, you had fallen in love with Alastor. Over the course of your life, you had gotten to know him from your sweet dreams. He often thanked you for your kindness. Never had he met someone that put his faith back into humanity. Who would show such a lowly animal mercy and generosity? And the day that you arrive in Hell, he'll be there to catch you and say.

"The name is Alastor, the radio demon. A pleasure to be finally meeting you properly. Welcome home, ma chère."

a/n: i would just like to say that none of the pictures are mine, creds to the amazing artists 🎨

[leth-writes]

yandere batfam x reader who's scared of them

BRUCE

If you don’t know he’s batman, he’s absolutely confused. He doesn’t really understand how you could be terrified of his civilian identity, who is notably soft and ditzy. It’s hard for you to explain how scary it is, looking at his smiling face in the middle of a gala and feeling this ice running down your spine, the deepest, basest part of you just screaming at you that there’s something wrong with him. It’s the way his emotions don’t reach his eyes, those cold, calculating eyes… It feels to you that he’s, at any given time, calculating how likely he is to get away with you murder.

That isn’t what he’s thinking. He’s thinking about how angry he is that everyone’s not treating you with the respect you deserve; he’s seen more consideration given to a coatrack! He’s contemplating yelling at your parent(s) to get them to realize how uncomfortable you are. That paternal sense just jumps right out and he’s wishing violence on anyone who would dare to so much as breathe at you wrong. You can see the promise of violence brewing on his face, you just mistake who it’s targeted at. He promises he would never hurt you.

Being frightened of batman is a lot more understandable, he is quite creepy. He tends to blend in with the shadows, and having a vigilante running around beating people senseless can be pretty terrifying. If he catches you being robbed, for example, Dick’s going to have to pull him off of whoever hurt you before he sends them into a coma. Seeing all that blood flying is definitely pretty scary.

However, Batman also serves as a protector for the city, especially children, and he does view you as a child, no matter your age. You’re his child, and he’d never want to scare you, so he exaggerates his movements and puts a bit of noise in his step so he’s less likely to scare you

He also gets Damian to approach you; while Damian may not be the typical child, he’s more than capable of acting young and vulnerable and that brings down your guard, allowing Bruce to ingratiate himself with you. Damian’s just excited to be close to you, he doesn’t even care you’re babying him and giving him stickers. He wears them with pride and shows every one to Alfred and his various animals.

DICK

Everyone is so confused as to how you could find Dick, smiley, jokey Dick, so scary. He’s so kind and gentle, perfect with children… maybe it’s the way you can see right through that facade into the intelligent seething rage boiling away within him. People often forget that Dick, as a young child, was more than willing to commit murder. He’s grown a lot since then, but sometimes that rage peaks through, terrifying you. You can also tell the bruises aren’t from sex or gymnastics like he says when the paparazzi ask, but from fights. You haven’t heard anything about the people he got into a fight in, which leads you to believe they never got up again. You’re wrong, but you can definitely feel the violence pulsing just underneath his skin. Every vigilante has it, you’re just able to sense it.

As Nightwing, he’s used to people asking him for selfies or yelling at him to do a backflip. He isn’t used to people trembling, terrified, in a corner as he approaches. You seem to view him as a dangerous vigilante, an extension of the Bat, first and foremost. Dick has to work hard to get you to trust him; he purposefully messes up some of his fights just so you think he isn’t as dangerous as he is, and he doesn’t let you in on the fact that the escrima have electricity. It puts you at ease if you think he would have a hard time taking you down. He relies on that goofy aspect of himself, pulling it up more than he normally would, almost tapping into that little circus performer who he buried deep down so many years ago.

JASON

Yeah, he gets it. His reputation, while useful, does preceed him. He’s heard the rumours; that he’s a zombie, a vampire, a ghoul, some creature back from the dead to kickstart some apocalyptic event. He usually finds it laughable, but seeing how terrifying you are does hit him hard.

He’s done so much to bury who he used to be, but for you, he taps into that side of him. He reads Jane Austen in public, volunteers at homeless shelters that he normally only donates to, anything to give himself a softer image. He even lets his hair keep its natural curls, letting them grow out slightly, to give him a softer silhouette. He also starts dressing more like Bruce; soft sweaters tucked into his pants, accentuating the pretty streak of white in his hair.

He’s also more than aware of how scary his scars can be, and tries his best to distract you away from them; for a little while, you rarely see him fully face-on, he turns his head just slightly so you can’t see them as clearly.

The Red Hood is terrifying. He’s aware, he knows, he’s dealing with it for you. He stops with the killing almost entirely and spends more time just patrolling your neighborhood, trying to get you used to the positives his presence is associated with. He lets Clark finally publish those positive stories about him saving a kitten or something, all to rehabilitate his image. He doesn’t care that his reputation is taking a hit, he only cares about you not being terrified of him.

TIM

???

Tim isn’t used to people being scared of him. Plenty of people are intimidated by his ruthless businessman act, but he never uses that around you. He tends to play up that scrawny, dorky nerd side of him; most view him like a little vulnerable puppy, not a threat!

You can probably sense that analytical presence behind his eyes. Tim, while technically being the most hands-off, is also the one who does the most meddling behind the scenes. He’s working to get rid of those shitty friends, blackmailing them away from you, and making sure to surround you with people he trusts, particularly Cass, Kon, and Steph. They talk him up, but more importantly, he knows they’ll keep you safe if he can’t.

You can probably tell your new friends are hiding something, and you sense that Tim is at the center. You’re not entirely wrong. Like Jason, he dresses in soft, cozy clothing and spends hours practicing his soft, gentle smiles, all in the hopes of you thinking him too weak and exhausted to be a threat.

He’s had criminals dislike him as Red Robin, but most civilians either appreciate him or ignore him. Most opinions are actually quite lukewarm, as while he does play a role in policing crime, he works more in the background solving cases and using his computer and photography skills. He makes sure to be seen being soft to children and animals more, maybe even volunteers in suit at an animal shelter, all in the hopes you’ll see that caring heart shining through.

CASS

Cass is so soft in public no one could ever be scared of that side of her unless they’ve already been kidnapped, in which case she slowly wears them down by having her family talk her up and by being the one to bring in gifts and food, creating a strong association between her and those good feelings of stress relief. Works like a charm, especially because you learn to read her; then, you learn to read the softness in her smile and her posture, showing that kind heart.

in stark contrast, plenty of people are scared of Black Bat, including civilians. Her normal silent presence and lack of facial expression can come across quite creepy. There’s no way around that, so she only introduces you to her secret identity after you’ve been kidnapped.

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Having the most hilarious little thoughts about Richard Harrington making a deal with demon!Eddie, trading wealth and success in exchange for his firstborn. 

The Harringtons climb the social ladder, Richard’s business thrives. Little Steven is born, grows up … and nothing ever happens, so they sort of put it out of their minds and never tell him about how they sold him off to a creature from the underworld before he was even conceived. 

The day after Steve’s 18th birthday, they return from a business trip to find their son frantically cleaning up the remains of a party. They’re three minutes into a lecture on how there’s soda and chips all over the expensive carpet when Eddie materializes in the middle of the living room, ready to collect his prize. 

Chaos ensues. 

Steve is freaking out. Why is that red-eyed, black-clad weirdo lounging on their couch, chunky boots up on the table as if he owns the place? Why is he looking at him like he’s a particularly tasty piece of meat? Why does the guy only need to snap his fingers and Steve finds himself straddling his lap, one ring-clad hand groping his ass? What the actual fuck is going on? 

The Harringtons are not amused. They have invested so much money into Steve over the years, thinking that Eddie had forgotten all about them, and NOW he shows up? Eddie just shrugs, idly playing with a lock of Steve’s hair. He never specified WHEN he’d come back, did he? What would he have wanted with a baby, anyhow? What is he, a daycare? 

“We thought you wanted to eat him!” blurts Mrs. Harrington, and Eddie just absolutely loses his shit. 

What the fuck is WRONG with those people? They thought he ATE babies? And they were still fine with giving him theirs? Holy fucking shit, humans are disgusting! This is it, deal’s off, he’s taking their wealth and success away again. No, the boy is still coming with him, do they honestly expect him to just up and leave him in this shithole? No fucking way! Oh, and they better never try and summon him again or those incriminating documents will find their way to the tax authorities! 

And that is how Steve finds himself living with a sassy, strangely kind-hearted demon who may or may not own his soul - they’re still trying to figure out the specifics of that. 

# hype's demon!Eddie fic

Part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6

[awearywritersworld]

i was benevolent and good; misery made me a fiend

sukuna x reader summary: you persuade sukuna to play go fish. the two of you have a small disagreement (he really can't stay mad at you). he confides in you about his past as a sorcerer. w/c: 3.4k tags/warnings: the teeniest bit of angst. mostly fluff. banter. cursing. aged up!yuuji. slight yuuji x reader. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. no manga spoilers. a/n: the first section could be read as a brief(ish) stand alone. and for context, the world's shortest frankenstein synopsis: victor frankenstein brings a creature to life using dead body parts and thrusts him into a world he doesn't understand, then promptly abandons him and wishes him dead. alone and regarded as repulsive by every human he comes across, the creature begs frankenstein to create a wife for him too. when frankenstein refuses, the creature is further driven to hatred and violence. series masterlist // masterlist

"we should play a card game!" you exclaim as if you've just had the world's greatest idea.

"i'll pass."

sukuna sounds listless, like it's quite possibly the worst proposition he's ever heard.

"why's that? scared i'll beat you?"

"i'm opposed to mind numbing boredom, more like."

"you really need to expand your horizons," you suggest, making your way over to where you keep your playing cards. "all you do is read and brood."

"it's gotten me this far."

you don't respond, too busy rifling through your bookshelf. just as you spot your cards, a book catches your eye and you pull it from its place.

making your way back over to him, you drop it in his lap. "since you found jane eyre so insufferable, here's one you might actually like."

he surveys the cover, which reads: frankenstein or the modern prometheus

you take a seat across from him at the kotatsu table and shuffle the deck, while sukuna flips through the pages with new found intrigue.

"what's it about?"

"the dangers of playing god. should be right up your alley."

"your subtly never ceases to amaze."

"i'm just kidding." you laugh. "there's a lot more to it than that— revenge, loneliness, personal responsibility..."

he turns the book over. "it's written by a woman?"

you raise your eyebrows at him. "what, you don't think women have enough depth to write about those kinds of topics?"

"no, it was just an observation," he says off handedly. "you are evidence enough to the contrary."

he doesn't say it as a compliment, more so as a statement of fact. you hope your astonishment isn't written all over your face.

clearing your throat, you begin dealing while explaining the rules to him.

he takes up his cards and seems to understand the game after only a turn or two, but you're narrowing your eyes at him soon thereafter.

"go fish," he says for the fourth time in a row.

your gaze shifts down to his hands. there's just no way. "show me your cards."

"wouldn't that defeat the purpose of this stupid game?"

"not if you're cheating, now let me see."

"no."

you reach across the table, hoping to snatch them from his grasp, but he just holds them out of your reach.

swiftly rising to your feet, you launch yourself at him in a sad attempt to catch him off guard.

with only one arm extended, he easily fends off your attack. "do you actually think you have a chance here?"

you sink to your knees in defeat and sit with your legs folded beneath you. "not really, but i have to know if you'd stoop this low."

"that so? had you believed me to be above cheating?"

you gasp. "so you admit it?"

"i told you i didn't want to play," he deadpans.

"that doesn't mean you had to cheat! now we have to start over!"

he carelessly tosses the cards onto the table. "i don't think so."

"please?" you lean forward, jutting out your bottom lip.

he just stares at you with an air of disinterest.

sukuna can be so haughty sometimes, and frankly, it drives you a little crazy. you'd give anything to wipe that look from his face— to prove that he doesn't find this as miserable as he lets on.

leaning forward even further, your hands meet with the carpet to support your shifting weight. now he's watching intently as your face approaches his, your eyes flicking down to his lips.

unbeknownst to you, sukuna's breath catches in his throat once he sees your gaze shift, though his mind struggles to catch up. it happens so fast that he hardly registers the quick peck you place on his lips (though maybe it's not the speed of the occurrence, so much as his shock).

"please?" you repeat.

he looks off to the side and stays silent, though his demeanor is indicative of some heated internal debate.

sukuna can't let you win, not that easily. you'd be under the impression that you actually have power over him! and for what? some measly kiss?

no, he simply will not allow that. "i already told you—"

grabbing him by the chin, you cut off his words with another kiss, but this time it lasts a few beats longer. your lips don't move against his, they just linger there in a way that that makes him question whether all of the oxygen has vanished from the room.

when you pull away, you're looking at him expectantly with the same pout still playing on your lips.

"fine!" he barks, grumbling something afterwards that sounds a lot like "evil little minx."

"human earthworm two is definitely still the best."

you're walking home with yuuji after a late night showing of the newest movie in the series.

"no way," you contend. "this one was even better."

he gawks at you. "in no world is the seventh film in an anthology the best! you're crazy—"

sukuna's mouth appears, always eager for a chance to undermine his vessel. "she's right, brat."

yuuji can't believe his ears. "what?! you haven't even seen it!"

"i don't know," you interject slyly. "i'm willing to look past that. it really seems like he knows what he's talking about."

"you mean the guy who's existence predates cinema?" yuuji asks, his eyebrows furrowing as a thought occurs to him. "what'd you do all day anyway? watch plays?"

"..among other things, yes." sukuna answers.

"if you look at it logically," you reason, "we probably wouldn't have movies without theater, so we should definitely consider him an expert in this case."

"oh please, baby. when the topic is ancient civilization or being a homicidal maniac, i'll be sure to solicit his opinion then."

"i resent that," sukuna declares, his conviction forcing a giggle from your lips.

"why?" you question. "was it the part where he called you old as shit, or the part where he called you a murderous lunatic?"

yuuji brings a hand to his mouth to stifle a snort, but you're freely laughing now.

sukuna scoffs indignantly and bites back a comment about how partial you seem to be toward said lunatic. "and to think i defended your opinion."

his response has you clutching at your sides and struggling to see through teary eyes.

but perhaps karma is real, because not a moment later, you step off the curb in a way that sends a sharp sensation through your leg.

you gasp in pain and brace yourself for the impact of falling to the concrete, but it never comes. instead, you're left with fingers clamped tightly around your wrist and a strange sense of deja vu.

you turn your head just before the dark lines fade from yuuji's arm completely.

"tch, watch where you're going idiot," sukuna scolds, his mouth disappearing as soon as he finishes speaking.

"are you okay?" yuuji asks worriedly.

"absolutely," you claim, but when you try to put weight on your left foot, you let out a hiss.

yuuji's hands find your waist, hoping to keep you steady. before you know it, he's crouching in front of you with his back turned and beckoning you to wrap your arms around his neck.

once you do, he hooks his arms under your thighs and easily stands up. "this okay? you comfy?"

"yeah. i can't believe i just did that." you hide your face in the space where his neck meets his shoulder. "thanks, yu."

when you get home, yuuji sets you up on the couch with icepacks, heating pads, three different drinks, two different books, and the tv remote.

he still asks if you have everything you need several times, then kisses you sweetly before heading to bed.

around thirty minutes later, sukuna's leaning in the doorway with his arms crossed.

"hey," you greet. your eyes never leave the tv, as you're privy to the slight tension between the both of you.

he skips the evening's pleasantries. "i could heal it, you know."

you finally turn to face him. "really?"

"of course." he rolls his eyes. "some of us can actually use reverse cursed technique."

"and you've just let me hobble around the past hour anyway?"

he shrugs. "you pissed me off."

you blink at him a few times, rubbing at your temples. "well what about now?"

"i don't know," he begins, making his way over to you. he towers over where you're seated on the couch, so you have to crane your neck to look up at him. "just doesn't really seem like something a homicidal maniac would do, but maybe if he were to receive an apology..."

you cover your face with your hands and groan. "i didn't say that. this is really something you should take up with yuuji—"

"i don't make a habit of conversing with the brat, so if that's the way you're going to be..." he turns on his heel and starts for the bedroom, but you grab onto his sleeve just before he's out of reach.

"wait. please don't go."

just like that, your words have his resolve crumbling and any of his lingering irritation ebbs away. he urges himself to stay strong though, especially after the go fish debacle.

when he doesn't speak, you let out a breath.

"i'm sorry, sukuna." he can tell right away that you're being entirely sincere. "i would never purposefully hurt your feelings. i only meant to tease you, but i can see how i was being mean."

are those... are those tears swimming in your eyes? are you in that much pain, or did he just make you feel that badly? in any case, he endeavors to remedy it immediately.

moving around the couch until he's in front of you, sukuna kneels between your legs. he grabs your left foot gingerly, situating it on his thigh before hovering his hand over top of it.

he sighs. "i don't care if you tease me and you weren't being.. mean." the words sounds so juvenile to him.

you weren't necessarily wrong either, goes unsaid.

well, he'd like to consider himself a little more sophisticated than 'maniac' would imply, but that's beside the point.

"then why are you upset with me?"

his jaw flexes as he tries to find the right words. "i would prefer you do that when it's just.. us."

"oh." realization dawns on you, as does another heap of guilt. you know he despises being trapped in yuuji's body, and you completely failed to consider how ganging up on him might make him feel. "i'm... fuck. i'm really sorry, sukuna—"

"stop apologizing," he urges you in a low voice. it's partly because what he just said makes him feel pathetic, but more than that, it's because the look of self reproach you're wearing is akin to a thousand needles in his chest. "it's fine."

he can't believe you're sitting there with so much remorse over a man like him because you... what? wounded his pride?

he probably deserves it anyway.

why should you give a shit when he's done things a thousand times worse, a million different times?

oh, right. because you care about him.

you can't see the cursed energy at play, but you can tell it's working as your pain begins to dissipate.

once he's finished, he carefully moves your foot to the floor and looks up at you. it's not unlike the way a person might gaze at one of the wonders of the world, like they're lucky to be there in the first place.

with the intensity of his gaze, it feels like he can see right into your head— read your every thought and pick apart every emotion. has anyone ever looked at you like that before? you're having a hard time remembering. you're having a hard time thinking of anything at all, really.

so it goes without saying that you don't think about it when you lean forward and kiss him.

it's not at all like when you were trying to convince him to play cards. no, this isn't light hearted or frivolous.

and it's not like the other two kisses you've shared either. it isn't heated or desperate, nor does it leave you gasping for air.

it's tender. it's so fucking tender, in fact, that sukuna wonders whether he's going to crumble beneath your touch.

he grips the area just above your knees, as if needing something to tether himself to before he withers away completely.

his lips move with yours in a way that's slow and careful.

your hands are on either side of his face, ghosting over his skin as a testament to your hesitance— like you're not certain if this is something he would want.

he wonders how in the world you could ever second guess yourself.

when you pull back, you examine his face for a moment before a small, shy smile tugs at your lips and you murmur, "thanks 'kuna."

he just peers at you wordlessly and it makes you nervous, so you attempt to fill the silence. "it feels so much better. a-and i'm sorry again abo—"

his hand finds the back of your neck, pulling your lips against his for a moment longer. "don't mention it, angel."

ever since you gave sukuna your copy of frankenstein, he's spent a decent portion of your nights together reading, his brows drawn together in concentration.

upon finishing, he stares at the page after taking in the final line: "he was soon borne away by the waves and lost in darkness and distance."

he's deathly quiet and wearing some unreadable expression. his eyes seem far off.

you leave him be for a little while, as it's clear he's lost in thought, but eventually you grow a bit concerned. it's been nearly half an hour since he last moved.

"sukuna?"

he turns to you. "why did you think i would enjoy this particular book?"

you consider his question carefully, his mood evoking your own seriousness. "it's... elegant and tragic. i suppose i appreciate the moral grayness of it. why do you ask?"

"no reason."

"did you enjoy it?"

"yes."

"why?"

he ignores your question. "frankenstein— do you like his character?"

you can't help but feel like you're answering some sort of riddle. "i think he's foolish and arrogant, but i guess i pity him to some degree."

"and the creature?"

"i'm much more sympathetic toward him. he's very... complex and certainly less culpable for the events of the novel than his creator."

you're surprised when he laughs. "of course you would think that way."

and with that, he's flipping through the pages of the novel. you move to sit beside him and once he finds what he's looking for near the middle, he begins reading:

"remember, thou hast made me more powerful than thyself; my height is superior to thine, my joints more supple. but i will not be tempted to set myself in opposition to thee. i am thy creature, and i will be even mild and docile to my natural lord and king if thou wilt also perform thy part, the which thou owest me. oh, frankenstein, be not equitable to every other and trample upon me alone, to whom thy justice, and even thy clemency and affection, is most due. remember that i am thy creature; i ought to be thy adam, but i am rather the fallen angel, whom thou drivest from joy for no misdeed. everywhere i see bliss, from which i alone am irrevocably excluded. i was benevolent and good; misery made me a fiend. make me happy, and i shall again be virtuous.”

his voice is strangely even, almost bordering on robotic. you're struck with the notion that he's attempting (with rare difficulty) to mask his emotions.

you regard him quizzically and wait for him to speak. the last thing you expect to hear tumbles from his lips.

"you know they called me the disgraced one?" you nod. "do you know why?"

"i know the story that sorcerers have passed down."

he hums. leaning back into the couch, he looks fixedly at the ceiling before continuing. "i was just a boy when i was orphaned and no one knew anything about my heritage, including me. jujutsu society took me in and raised me as a sorcerer."

"and you didn't care for it?"

"oh, quite the opposite. i reveled in it. my strength was unprecedented, that much was clear from the start. i surpassed my teachers with ease, and eventually, i took to training alone— reading primitive texts and honing skills that they couldn't teach me."

your hand finds his thigh, hoping to offer him some consolation before beckoning him to continue. "then what happened?"

"the men who had been my teachers, who had been the only.. family i'd ever known.. they scorned me. deemed me reckless and dangerous to jujutsu society. plotted my demise."

your voice is small when you ask, "were they right?"

he wants to hate the question— wants to hate you for asking it— but he knows that it's warranted.

"no. i admit i was forward thinking and a bit.. unorthodox, but i wasn't..."

"what they thought you were?" you offer gently.

he nods. "not until they made me that way— not until they abandoned me and backed me into a corner like some animal."

you struggle to find the right thing to say, if any such thing even exists. you're amazed that he's confiding in you, and while it makes your heart swell, you really don't want to fuck it up.

he looks back down at the book, his eyes scanning the paragraph before repeating, "i was benevolent and good; misery made me a fiend."

he says it as if he's coming to terms with the circumstances of his life for the very first time.

"the creature was remorseful at the end of the novel," you recall somewhat bravely. "are you?"

sukuna thinks for a great deal of time before replying. you wait patiently for him.

"no," he answers decidedly.

looking over at you for the first time since he began his story, he's relieved to find your face is free of rebuke. instead, there's a warm willingness to understand him. a sadness because of the way he was alienated.

he's curious whether anyone would be able to read the sentiment on your face, or if he just knows you better than most.

is that a privilege he's worthy of? he doubts it.

"you didn't deserve what they did to you," you whisper, reaching up to rake your fingers through his hair, nails grazing his scalp before your palm rests against his temple.

his head leans almost imperceptibly into your hand, and any regret or unease he may have felt at relaying his past to you disappears. watching a single tear slip down your cheek, he wipes it away with the pad of his thumb.

he means to say "don't cry. not for me," but the words die in his throat.

for once, your tears are for him rather than because of him and it's utterly riveting. the fact that someone like you would cry on his behalf seems to contradict every horrible thing he's ever been told about himself.

he could sit here and bask in the feeling forever— he's always known himself to be selfish after all. and you know it too, don't you?

his eyes flicker between each of yours, studying your face. "do you want to know why i don't regret the things i've done?"

you tilt your head to the side. "why?"

"because even if it's made me into a monster..."

for a moment, he contemplates not saying anything more. he considers forcing himself to pull away from your touch, even if it's the only comfort he's been given his entire life. he might still be able to salvage whatever tiny, laughable pieces remain of his pride—

"all of my actions have led me to you."

your eyes soften before you're wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your body to his. he returns the gesture after a few seconds pass.

you know he's awful. you know he's cruel. you know that what he's been through doesn't excuse his actions. but still— you want so desperately to take away his pain. to make up for all the things in his past. to wipe the blood from his hands.

as you embrace such an incredibly complicated man (one who is infamous for unrivaled wickedness, yet has his face buried in your hair), you ponder the creature's plea: "make me happy, and i shall again be virtuous."

a/n 2: if you're still w me, thanks for reading!! i'm not sure how i feel abt this part, so feedback is both welcome and appreciated!! also, how do we like sukuna using angel?? in my head he picked it up from the "my good angel" line in jane eyre, so i hope it doesn't seem too unnatural. alsoooo, highly recommend frankenstein. it's one of my favorite books!! mary shelley popped off and literally created the entire genre of science fiction at 21! anyway, thanks for all the love yall, it means the world<3

taglist: @96jnie @ay0nha @sad-darksoul @bbysatoruuu @luciiferian @risuola @lirasmoon @disaster-rose @archivist-ghoul606 @creative1writings @sloppyzengarden @omismicrowave @cecesharktales @tanyeonn @hiqhkey @ruixrei @yellowsubiesdance @thefallofruins @anything-and-everything-here69 @emzalot @thepup356 @browneyedgirl22 @lantsovheiress // users in bold could not be tagged. if i forgot to tag anyone, my apologies!! just give me a heads up.

[wizashcs]

Hi hi

May I ask for some spicy stuff where the s/o starts teasing some boys in front of their man/crew? You can take is as you like ~

With Crocodile , Iceburg (He dosn't get enough love), Sanji? Ty ty

Well, well, well… If I have to work with Sanji I really should put on my apron. Sure thing, hon! I’ll do some jealous men for you!;)

One Piece Headcanons - Jealousy

Characters: Sanji, Crocodile, Iceburg

cw.: jealousy, revenge, possesive thoughts/speaking, voyeurism, slight degradation, fingering, oral fem!receiving, oral male!recieving

fem! s/o

(These will be more like scenarios, because no way I can write these shortened💀)

Sanji

You might be used to Sanji’s flirty behaviour towards women by now, however it doesn’t mean it makes you less annoyed. Since you two are together, Sanji shows true love to you, and avoids talking to other women the way he used to. Still, his love and respect towards them becomes a little too much here and there, and he’s not smart enough to notice it in time sometimes. One day, you had enough. When you stopped at a smaller island to buy some goods for the next cruise, you’ve met a few guys around your age at the docks, selling fish and other sea creatures for pretty high prices. Suddenly, a little mean lightbulb lit up above your head. You thought if you used your female charms, you might even get a little bit of a discount on some products, and at the same time, you could teach your dumb man a little bit of a lesson.

You walked towards the salesmen, putting on your kindest smile and honeyed words. Sanji immediately noticed your quick disappearance, he obviously started looking around to find you. You never leave without a word, and that made him worried. And then, he saw you, talking to those men. Oh those men must pay for getting around you, when you’re all by yourself, without him to protect you. You’ve successfully persuaded those boys to give you some of the fish cheaper, when all of the sudden, Sanji appeared beside you. A lit cigarette hung out of his mouth, his eyes looked annoyed, but to you, he spoke sweet like honey.

“You okay, lovely?.” He said, and looked at the merchant. “What’ya you lookin’ at, making the fish rot in the sun? Go and do you job.”

“Sanji… I was doing business.” You murmured, but he was too busy started arguing with the fishermen by now.

“We can talk about that on the ship later, alright apple pie?~ I’ll finish the business for you.”

You let out a heavy sigh, but in the inside, you kind of had your fun. Seeing him looking at those poor guys with his anger filled eyes just because he became jealous of them, talking to you. Your plan worked, but you’re not that mean to not bring up the subject again. Sanji came back to the ship around fifteen minutes later, with a basket of fish… He really finished the business instead of you.

You walked to the kitchen, so you could speak your concerns too, and possibly apologize for your behaviour as well. Sanji was in the kitchen, chopping up some vegetables for lunch, when you entered. He seemed bothered, but he still smiled at you when you appeared.

“Lunch will be ready in two hours, but if you’re hungry I can make you a quick snack, love.”

“You’re the snack itself.” You joked, and hugged him from behind, pressing a kiss on his back. “You know, when those guys gathered around me… I started it.”

Sanji went silent for a bit, and wiped his hands into a clean kitchen rag.

“Even if a woman starts ‘something’, it’s not right to gather around her like that… That must have been scary for you.” You could hear his voice is disappointed, but he didn’t start blaming you, not even a little bit. Your stomach clenched from feeling guilt, so you continued.

“I was trying to get some discount with honeyed words, and… There was a little bit of revenge towards you.”

Sanji turned around this time. He seemed worried. He believed he messed up something hard, and the worst part was that he didn’t know how.

“What? Did I do something wrong, love?”

“Not that wrong!” You tried reassuring. “It’s just sometimes you’re still too kind to other women… It made me feel jealous and I kinda wanted to make you as well…”

“Oh, mon chérie, oh no–” He breathed out, before leaning towards you to kiss your forehead. “I swear to you, I will be more careful with my words… I didn’t mean to hurt you, or make you think you’re not enough. You’re everything I have, and I shall show it to you every day, every way possible… Forgive me.”

“Sanji–“ You spoke his name out of surprise, as he fell on his knees down at your feet, hugging your legs and burying his face into your skirt.

“Darling, I’m begging you on my knees,” He pleaded, and looked up to you with his ever loving eyes. He was desperate to make up to the mistakes he did. “let me please you, right here and now. Let me make it up to you.”

“Sweetheart, it’s fine, you don’t have to– We are in the kitchen!” You tried to reason with him, but there was no use. He wanted this.

“Please.” He whispered, as he started pulling your skirt up, so he could reach your thighs with his mouth. He began to kiss the inner part of your thigh, his fingers gripped your skirt tightly. You didn’t want him to stop, each time he pleaded you to let him eat you out, it got a little harder to think. Eventually, you gave in. He grabbed your panties with his teeth, pulling it down all the way on your legs, until it hit the ground. He teasingly kissed around your womanhood, on that little straight line that separates your pussy from your thighs, and then, down again on your legs. He wanted to show you how appreciated you and all of your body’s hidden treasures are.

“I love you. I promise I’ll cherish you the way you deserve it, my love.” He kissed the words into your thighs, just right before he leaned to your wet cunt so he could finally give you everything he can to make you forgive. His tounge immediately found your favorite spot and speed, because he remembers everything you previously told and showed him about your preferences. You moaned his name quietly, grabbing into his blonde tufts, pleading for him not to ever stop. It only made him even more eager and confident to take you the stars. Don’t expect that you’re going to walk out of the kitchen on your own legs. The number of the orgasms you will get because of him in the next thirty minutes will make your feet go so shaky, that you won’t be able to walk without getting suspicious.

Crocodile

There was a meeting with greater influence at Baroque Works. Your husband, the Warlord Crocodile himself wasn’t paying much attention to you for a few days, since this occassion was a pretty important one. Men and women with high influence gathered to talk through political events, future plans and statistics, with the company of ridiculously expensive champagne and wine. You’ve always hated these kinds of meetings. You’re not important and feared enough to catch anyone’s attention by your power, but Crocodile insists on you to be there at all times, even while he knows you hate these occassions. The truth was, he loved showing you off the people. He loved the feeling that he could make everyone know that a beauty like you, belongs to him, and him only.

Meanwhile Crocodile enjoyed the evening with the people you barely heard about in your lifetime, you sat on your reserved chair, wondering about how much you just want to leave the room and do anything better, than this. You were bored, and a little annoyed at Crocodile as well. He spent long days ignoring you, because all he cared about in the last few weeks was his work, and this meeting. You usually understood how busy he was, but you hated how you were used on these events. Just a wife image? A trophy? The bare thought of it frustrated you. Out of your boredom, or annoyance, a childish idea run into your mind. You stood up from your chair and walked across the room to a man you never even heard about. It didn’t matter how he looked like or what he was doing here, you just wanted him to play a role for a game you wanted to entertain yourself with, (and possibly fill your husband up with anger). Even though he didn’t pay much attention to you on these meetings, sometimes his eyes wandered to you, just for a quick check that you’re there at all. It happened just like this as well, when he noticed you chatting with a man. You chuckled at his unfunny jokes, touched the man’s arm playfully. He didn’t understand your unusual behaviour, but it was sure as hell he didn’t like what he saw.

In that moment, he didn’t care about the subject of the conversation he was having with someone, he left without a word just to reach you.

“You may leave now.” He spoke to you, and you looked up to him, smiling smugly as a fox.

“But I’m having so much fun, darling.”

“I bet you do.” He replied quickly as he grabbed your hand tightly. He looked at the man you were small talking just yet, and told him to piss off, while he was dragging you out of the room. “I don’t want you here causing trouble for me. We’re going to talk about this later.”

You shrugged your shoulders, without a feeling of any responsibility. Honestly, you were a little satisfied too. He deserved a little bit of a reality check by now.

A few hours have passed, and you sat at your desk, reading some book your husband gave you for your birthday. It was one that you were longing to read for years, but it’s so rare because of the lack of copies that he had to spend months researching until he could buy you one of those few. You loved this book dearly, because it always reminded you how much you’re in love with eachother, despite every stupid arguements. You were two pages from the next chapter, when your door opened, and Crocodile came in.

“How was your night, dear?” You asked, not looking up from your book.

“Quit this attitude, until I have my patience.” He said, throwing off his heavy, black furcoat from his shoulders to his chair.

“Yeah, everything is about you, no one cares about my patience!” You choked out and closed your book. You stood now on your feet and started walking to your shared bed, when he caught you by your wrist.

“Your patience? How many hours of work did you put in this project so it could happen, huh?” You shrugged your shoulder again. “No hours, yet there was a place for you at my table, you could participate in such an important event.”

“Oh, don’t make me laugh, Crocodile! You only tolerate me on your dumb meetings, because that would mean you could show off how hot stuff your wife’s made of. What? Is it a problem if I show off my body by myself?” In that sudden moment, he caught your chin with his hand, forcing you to look him in the eyes.

“Do you hear yourself when you say such stupidity? You vowed yourself to me. Your body, your mind and soul belongs to me.”

You couldn’t help but get excited at his words…You were frustrated, angry, but never scared. After all, being his was all you had. Your voice became emotionally shaky once you started speaking again:

“Yes… And for that, I did this. All because I wanted you to see me, to have your attention on me. You don’t know how hard it is to deal with you and your work sometimes. I don’t even know when was the last time you actually looked in my way.”

Your bold words caught him by surprise. He took the burnt cigar out of his mouth and pressed it against an ashtray on his desk. Then, he began to laugh, while he walked to you again. He pulled you to your bedroom’s huge window and pressed your back against the cold glass.

“My attention?” He leaned down to your ear, so he could whisper. There was something in his quiet voice that messed up your mind. You wanted him so bad, now more than ever. It was so damn long you could feel his scent in your nose. “Don’t worry, you certainly will have that, after all your hard ‘work’… Now turn around, and bend over.”

What he said caught you off guard… Did he really get aroused from all this? You slowly turned around, and pressed your palms against the window you were standing by. You arched your back like a cat towards him, obeying his words. It was as quick as lightning when he used his hook to tear off the panties you had on until now. The expensive, laced fabric simply fall on the ground, and no one ever talked about them. You didn’t really have time to react to that anyway, because the next thing you felt was two of his fingers pushing their way inside your pussy without any warning. You squirmed and whined by his rough fingers moving inside you, rubbing mercilessly against your sweet spot. As you moved around, he pressed your back down with his hook to keep you in place, and so you could arch your ass a little more for him.

“Quiet. I don’t want anyone to notice how you’re getting fucked until passing out, but at least you can enjoy the thought of being seen. Isn’t this what you wanted, my dear?”

Iceburg

(This will be funny af because the man’s whole career is a headcanon.)

This happened back in the days when you and Iceburg were yet just a couple. His hair was longer back then, but the beard on his chin grew strongly. You loved Iceburg dearly, and he felt the same way towards you. We could say you were pretty popular pair, everyone knew you two were dating for years now. He was young, and worked as a shipwright with a guild. You were always supporting towards him, though you didn’t really have experience on how to do this work, however bringing lunch for him and his colleagues was enough, and very appreciated.

It was a similar hard day for him in work, so you prepared a bunch of food for him and the men he worked with. Though, when you arrived to the workplace, your boyfriend was nowhere to be found. You asked around his coworkers, but no one could say anything more than “He was here a minute ago.” You didn’t start worrying by that, of course, especially since you liked the men he was working with, you thought it would be fun to just talk to them a little until Iceburg arrives back. You gave some of the lunch you prepared for the workers, whom were happy to have you for at least a chat while they take a break. Since you were a fine lady, some of the guys tried to flirt, but there was someone who was showing off his abs to you. To say the truth, you became actually pretty amazed by seeing how big his arms were, so you asked him if you could touch it.

The mean leaned closer to you with his arm, and you gently rubbed it. That was the exact moment when your boyfriend arrived.

“What’s happening here?” He asked, and you flinched, putting your hands away in an instant.

“Baby, finally! Where have you been?” You asked him as you hurried up to him, but he was too worked up with the thing he just saw a few moments ago.

“I saw a turtle walking around the streets and I put it back to the water where it was safe… But honey, why were you touching that idiot’s arm? You don’t love me anymore?” He asked you with serious concern.

“Of course I do, babe, I was just surprised by how big his arm is… I know this sounds dumb like that, but there was nothing more to it.” Not only you, but the workers as well tried reassuring their boss to not worry, which seemed to work.

Half of an hour later you went back home to his house, so you could wait for him there until his shift was over for the day. Around four hours have passed when the front door opened, and Iceburg stepped in the house with a giant teddy bear in his arms.

“Honey, I brought you this bear. Promise you still love me?” He asked, tucking the teddy bear into your arms without further questions. You had to drop everything you had in your hands just so you could hold the surprising gift.

“Iceburg, where have you got this? I told you that I love you, you shouldn’t have bought this for me… Where do I even put it?”

He crossed his arms and looked around the house:

“I don’t know yet, I didn’t think about that. Once I get rich there won’t be a problem with it because we’ll have much more room.”

Sometimes you just had to let his reasons go, he won’t take that giant plushie back to the store, and you couldn’t even ask him to anyway. You put the teddy down on the floor, and turned to him to kiss him. He hugged you by your waist, embracing you tightly to him. You knew his previous concerns were true, he was a sensitive type ever since you knew him.

“I love you, baby.” You murmured between your kisses. “There’s no way I could love anyone more like you, you know.”

“I know…I’m sorry I became jealous.” He kissed your ear as he leaned down to you, wandering to your cheek and mouth with his lips. You felt like you wanted to show you more of how you love and appreciate him. You pressed your palm on his chest, pushing him a little backwards so he would sit down on the couch you had in your livingroom. You sat on his lap, while your hands began to unbutton his shirt.

“What are you doing, honey?” He asked with a pinch of blush on his face.

“Just making you sure that you have no reason to be jealous.” Your smile widened as you started drawing circles on one of his nipples with your thumb. You could feel his erection grow in his pants, and you couldn’t help but begin to move your hips back and forth carefully, rubbing your hungry pussy against his rock hard cock. He sighed quietly, pulling you into a kiss by tucking his fingers in your hair. His dark red lipstick left stains on your mouth, and you loved it every time.

As your passionate kiss deepened, you unzipped his pants, and crawled out of his lap, kneeling down in front of him. You looked up to his messy, blushing face, as you helped his cock out of the tight pants he was trapped in. You stroked it gently, giving it a little bit of lubricant with your saliva.

“I’ll give you the head of your life, babe.” You whispered as you finally took it in your mouth, moving your tounge on his tip desperately. His quiet moans and sighs filled your brain, keeping you motivated to get more of his sweet reactions out of him. His fingers squeezed your hairtufts tightly, but careful enough not to hurt you.

“I love you, (y/n).” He groaned out your name, as he reached for your free hand to hold you. You locked your fingers together, meaning that you two are there for eachother. No matter how many people you cross the streets, no matter how long you’re apart from eachother. You’re always there, and no one can tear you apart.

[johnwickb1tsch]

Everyone is sending GIF requests, so, here is mine. Hint: Jealous John? (Though I doubt this man can ever be jealous but...whatever comes to your genius brain)

Thanks!

@sweetwolfcupcake SWEEETS!!!!! I loved this prompt SO MUCH!!! You're such a genius. *kisses your head* I hope you like this! 💗💗💗

Bodyguard!John Wick x Shy!Curvy!Fem!Student!Reader

⚠warnings: threat of noncon (not John), mention of parental death

For the record, you didn’t mean to fall in love with John Wick. But he was nothing like the other goons your father had tasked with guarding you before.  Wick was tall, and handsome, and had the soulful eyes of a poet. You know he’s dangerous; he can kill a man 30 ways with a pencil (the men of your father’s Bratva will not shut up about it) but he seems so…gentle. And the thing that really proved your undoing?

That good looking bastard was bookish, and it did something inconceivable to your lit major brain. Ever your dark shadow, you spent countless late nights in the library together, and so many Saturday afternoons browsing the used bookshops, combing for treasures. He would rescue the books that looked better fit for the waste bin, taking them to repair. Maybe he was there to protect you, for your father had many unsavory enemies, but it was easy to forget when John discussed with you the finer points of the Bloomsbury Set or the themes of Anna Karenina.  

Maybe your father assigned John to you because he was one of the few gangsters around in his brigata one could trust to guard a relatively innocent young lady–that didn’t mean John was safe from you. You just couldn’t help yourself; you’d like to plead insanity, your honor, the night you finally broke and tried to kiss him, while he was helping you with your homework for Russian Lit 301. 

How stupid you felt, how utterly pathetic, when he’d very kindly dislodged you from his so soft mouth, looking at you with pity in his sad dark eyes. “You know…we can’t do this,” he told you.

Mortified, you’d fled to your room and cried, knowing you are the most ridiculous human being on the face of the earth.

What were you thinking?

You are nothing like the tall, ethereal creatures that populate the clubs where Wick frequents with your father. You are shy, and curvy, and frankly…a nerd. An old soul, your father would say fondly, but you know he is just being kind.

You’re not sure how you got it into your head, that you were going to make Wick sorry. You’ve never been one for going out, but you decide to give it a whirl, wanting to be anyone but yourself. You decide to go to the Red Circle, to hang out with the other Bratva brats who care way more about clubbing and clothes and who’s fucking who, than classes at NYU. 

At first you really hate it–but after a few shots of vodka, it’s not so bad. John has to hang back, keeping an eye on you but not interacting with your friends. He’s scary good at lurking in the shadows, but you know he’s keeping an eye on every move you make. Maybe that’s why you let Alexsei kiss you, the son of a semi-friendly loan shark who works in proximity with your father. You don’t really like him, if you’re being honest. But he’s not totally hideous–and he’s there–and John will have to watch it all. 

You and Alex start to have a thing. It’s no big deal. Something to do, on the summer break from your studies. You invite him over to watch a movie, knowing you’ll have the house to yourself. Your father is always at his office doing business, your idiotic brother is always out getting into trouble with his khuligan friends, and your mother…is dead, God rest her poor soul. 

You can tell Alex is a little drunk, when he shows up at your door. He’s very handsy, when you settle in on the couch to watch the latest mindless action flick, his pick. It’s ok, until he tries to unbutton your pants.

You have a secret. 

You’re 21, nearly graduated from university–and you’re still a virgin. 

This is not a thing you intend to give to Alexsei Plushenko. You don’t even really like the way he touches you.

“Stop, Alex.”

“Don’t be scared,” he tries to coax you. “This will be fun.”

“No,” you say. “Let’s just…”

He covers your mouth with his, shutting you up, his heavy body pinning you on the couch. “Don’t be such a stuck up bitch.” His groping fingers squeeze your breast clumsily, painfully, before fumbling with your jeans again. You try to push him off, but he’s heavy, and strong.

Suddenly, he is yanked from you like he weighs nothing at all. You hardly recognize what is happening at first, until you hear the sound of flesh striking flesh. John is on him, his iron fist meeting the younger man’s face. 

“John! Stop!” 

Wick looks up at you, meeting your eyes in a primal lock of stares–your heart drops and soars again, as you feel as though you’ve stumbled on a wolf over his kill, and the wildest thing?

You get the inkling that wolf is jealous. 

“Don’t hurt him anymore,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. A beating will make some complications for your father. A death? Could mean war.

Wick punches the handsy young man one more time, his eyes never leaving yours, before hauling Alex up by the collar and frog marching him out the front door, tossing him down the concrete steps of your home.

John finds you waiting for him in the marble foyer, his eyes wild, his knuckles torn. You don’t even know what to say. 

“What did you even see in him?” he finally demands, clearly annoyed.

“He wasn’t you,” you answer without thinking.

Wick steps up to you, toe to toe, so that you have to crane your neck to meet his eyes. His hair has broken free from its slicked back style, tendrils in his eyes.

He’s never looked more beautiful, your savage savior.

“You’re trying to get me killed.”

You shake your head, the very thought anathema to you. You are transfixed, unable to look away, unable to think. “You’re too precious to me,” you admit, and screw your eyes shut the moment you admit it, a spear of mortification piercing you from your heart to your stupid, aching, cunt.

“Milaya…” 

It’s the sweetest thing he’s ever said to you.

Your eyes drop to his knuckles, torn open in his defense of you. “You’re hurt.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Not to me.” You don’t know where you get the courage, to take his hand, and lead him up to your room. You can hardly believe it, that he actually follows you. In your ensuite bathroom you dab at his knuckles with a washcloth, slather him with ointment and plaster him with bandaids. You run out of sober flesh colored ones, so the last cut gets a Disney bandage, Ariel and sea-flowers decorating this severe man’s knuckles. 

He lets you do all this, watching you intensely with those dark eyes you’re certain can see into your soul. You stand too close–and he lets you, this haunted man who watches over you day and night. Your whole life you have never wanted for anything, your father’s money buying you all your heart could possibly desire.

Until now.

You find it hard to meet his eyes, zeroing in on a spot of blood on his stark white dress shirt. 

“Y/n.” With a gentle knuckle under your chin he turns your gaze up to his again. “You are too smart, and too beautiful, to be wasting your time with a fuckboy like Alexsei Plushenko.”

The first part you already knew. The second, from this man’s lips? Your knees nearly collapse out from under you, a flood of excitement and dread coursing through your system. You almost can’t stand it–it’s like being burned alive, and your native shyness rears with a vengeance. 

You try to flee, back to the safety of your room, and your books, your imaginary lives that can’t really hurt you–but he catches your hand. His grip is not hard, but it is enough to stop you dead in your tracks. 

“Y/n…” He’s pleading with you, but you don’t understand what he’s asking you. 

“You said you don’t want me, John…” you say, still unable to meet his eyes. “So let me go.” 

He answers by pulling you against him, the solid line of his torso a brick wall beneath the hand you raise to catch yourself. But bricks are not warm, like the flesh beneath his designer clothes. You can feel the wires in your brain sizzling, the synapses simply melting down. Your heart is Chernoble waiting to happen. 

“I didn’t say that.” 

“You said–”

“I said, ‘We can’t.’ Not, that ‘I don’t want you.’”

You almost cannot breathe, your heart attempting to beat out of your chest, a ringing in your ears that drowns out all else. There is nothing, nothing, in this world you’ve wanted more, than to hear those words from this man. But now that he’s standing before you, against you, holding you–you cannot move. You do not know what to do. 

He solves this problem by cupping your cheek in his big hand–God, how you’ve noticed those hands–and then he is pressing his mouth to yours, gentle at first, but then…hungry. As though John Wick has been starving, for you, and it’s all you can do just to stand there and take it without melting into a puddle on the floor. His arms wrap around your back, holding you, lifting you to your tiptoes as he devours you. When at last he pulls back you are left seeing stars, struck utterly speechless with your hands on his broad shoulders. 

“Tell me to stop,” he raggedly demands, his eyes boring down into yours. 

Finally, you find your courage, meeting his stare. “I don’t want you to stop,” you whisper. 

“Good. Because I don’t think I can.” He kisses you again, just as hungrily as the first time, his arm an iron band around your waist and his fingers sneaking up into your hair. That’s your kryptonite: your hair, and blithely you know he can do anything and everything he wants to you now.  

Your father is a bad man, but you have not had a bad life. You have never known hunger, or true physical pain. He has protected you from the violence of his world. He has played things smart enough that not even the FBI can touch you, even though they absolutely know what he is and where your family gets its money. Despite all this, you have been dying inside, a slow, withering demise, until John Wick’s lips touched yours. He is the life-giving rain over the desert; your heart is a field of wildflowers erupting in a superbloom. 

This time, he leads you, in between kissing you, to the loveseat at the foot of your bed. He sits, and only when he tries to pull you into his lap do you resist. “John…I’m too…much,” you insist, conscious of your generous flesh and what it would be like to set that on top of him, afraid he’ll be horrified. 

However, he just scoffs at you, grabbing you up anyway and guiding you down. For a moment you are weightless–he knows how to upset a person’s balance, how to use their weight against them to put them on the floor. This time he uses it to put you on him. You’re not exactly proud of it, but the ease with which he utterly manhandles you makes your long-neglected lady parts sing with desire. 

“You are perfect, dietka,” he insists, pulling you closer with hands on your round behind, “And I am very strong.” For the first time in you can’t remember how long–he smiles at you. That beautiful half smile with a sparkle in his dark eyes that takes your breath away–you love him so much it hurts. 

This time you don’t feel so shy, about kissing him. You feel like your bones are filled with butterflies, and you both moan and giggle as you do your best to devour each other from the mouth down. Aside from an appreciative squeeze of your thighs bracketing his hips, he doesn’t try to seduce you, even though you know you absolutely would have given him anything he asked you for. He is content, just to kiss you, for this night at least, and oh. He’s good at it too. 

You decide you would burn down the world, for one more kiss from John Wick.  

Later you find yourself snuggled in your bed with John, fully clothed, your head on his shoulder as he toys with the fine hairs at the back of your neck. His touch is heaven, and with your legs twined with his it’s hard not to squirm and writhe against his muscled thigh like a horny little gremlin. 

Later, you tell yourself. It can wait for later. 

Like maybe, tomorrow. 

“We’ll have to be careful,” he warns you. “If your father…” 

If your father found out, the best thing that could happen to John is getting fired. 

“I won’t let you get hurt,” you promise, kissing his bearded cheek, praying you’re telling the truth.

He chuckles at this; a deep sound you feel more than hear. “I thought that was my job?”

“You know what I mean.” 

“I know.” He looks down at you with a tenderness that curls your toes. “It would be worth it, for you.” 

Your heart has suddenly decided it would like to take up residence in your throat–permanently.

“Oh, John…”  

He kisses you again, a soft brush of lips that renders you weightless. This is how you die: it’s almost too much to stand, this impossibly full feeling in your chest. Then he narrows his eyes at you playfully. “You have been driving me mad, you little minx. I wanted to kill everyone who so much as looked at you in the Circle.” 

You snort at the thought–you do not understand, really, that he could absolutely do it too. 

“Not to worry. I think the library is more my speed.” He rests his head against yours with a small, contented sigh. “Mine too,” he admits. The smell of old books around you is a soothing balm to you both. 

You know small bits of his past. Morsels he has sprinkled, here and there in the conversations you have had. You know he did not have an easy childhood. You know that this life was not really his choice. Even less so than most, who move and work in the Underworld. 

“If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?” you ask. 

He lifts an eyebrow at you. “I’m liking New York, at the moment,” he tells you with an affectionate squeeze. 

“Oh come on.” 

“Fine. I like Paris a lot.” 

“Hmm,” you answer, but what you think, is: Done.  You will have the opportunity to arrange to study abroad soon, and you think a trip away from the Tarasov territory might do you both some good.

Surely Papachka wouldn’t deprive you of your most trusted bodyguard?

[keferon]

It has been YEARS since I have writen anything. I more so draw. Maybe later if you like I can try but... the Deadlock Mecha au with Ratchet ❤ it goes brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

(Wrote this in three hours. No editing. Spur of the moment dump. Apologizes for the length and how it bounces around. I imagine Deadlock had saved Ratchet and his team somehow. Ratchet in turn tries to save the person inside Deadlock. Finding no human Ratchet instead saves the Cybertonian realizing he is more then a mechine.)

****

Deadlock's optics dart around the bioengineer's lab as he stays crouched on one knee. He keeps his servos flat on the floor to stay steady in the small hanger. He doesn't want to bump into the over head lights any more then he has. He is almost at his limit. When he crawled in here he didn't expect to be surrounded by screaming squishies. He's had enough of the small creatures running around him calling out for help. Let their 'help' come. He will tear apart anything that comes between him and the human that saved his life.

Ratchet, the spitfire of a human had bothered saving him when his own kind left him to leak out in the mud. Cared enough to find fuel and feed him. He had learned quickly that Ratchet has a brilliant and clever processer. He matches Deadlock's glossa with his own with zero hesitation and either has no self preservation or no concept of fear. Which ever one, whatever keeps Ratchet going strong and steady could scare Unicron himself into submission.

Deadlock gives a fond hum as he recalls onlining to a very small hand petting his cheek muttering, "It's ok kid we're getting you out of here. Focus on me. Only me." While the ground shook around them. While screeches from the enemy closed in, almost drowned out the calming grumble of the bioengineer.

He snarls as something pings off his helm bringing him back to the hanger. His lip curls back enough to show a shiny fang. One of the little fraggers shot him with a... should he even call that a blaster? "ENOUGH!" A voice demanding respect and carries weight yells out when Deadlock lifts his left servo to grab the offending toy. Everyone pauses and falls silent. He hears a ting ping ping from his right leg. "Stop that line of thought right now Drift! Hand down!" Deadlock looks at Ratchet as Ratchet gives the plating around his knee a few good wacks with a... piece of wood that had bristles at the end. Deadlock gives an amused rumble and slowly sets his servo back down as he turns his right one slowly till it's palm up next to Ratchet. Ratchet huffs and grumbles but climbs on still wielding the mighty stick weapon. "What the hell are you doing in here you menace?"

"Ratchet~ I missed you. You are late coming to berth. For the sixth time. Iv come to escort you from work." Deadlock purrs as he lifts Ratchet slowly to his optics. He can't help but smirk at the twitching frown Ratchet gives.

"Ain't happening kid. I have a lot to do. Go back to your bed. Rest. You're still recovering." Ratchet says in his, this is not a request but an order, tone. "I don't need you here giving me more work. That's what you'll be doing if you make puddles out of any of my interns. We WILL have words if you do that by the way. Do not smash any of my workers." Ratchet growls back with no more heat then Deadlock has grown use to.

"More of a sad smoosh or splat then smash." Deadlock mumbles. He pauses as the wooden stick with bristles is waved in front of his optic, "Ah.. I mean... isn't scrapping your kind off of things the youngling's job?" That earned him a wack on his optic ridge. He gives a small grunt and closes his mouth.

"No, Firstaid doesn't handle all the dirty work Drift. Even if that was the case don't give the poor kid any more work you numbskull." Ratchet says lowly as the humans optics narrow. Deadlock watches as Ratchet swings the stick servo to servo. "Now get out of my lab or I'll make you."

Deadlock tilts his helm and raises an optic ridge. A devilish smirk spreads across his lips enough for his fangs to poke out. "Right right we're going." He rumbles while cupping a servo around Ratchet as he slowly shifts around to back out. His EM Field spreads out into a smug, pleased pulse as Ratchet yells and curses at him. He ignores the threats. No Ratchet will not take him apart from the inside out. He will go to berth to have the strength to do it in the lightcycle, if he wishes. But he won't, his squishy would never harm him. Sharp glossa, beautiful processer, and pure of spark. Deadlock vows he will protect his squishy with his whole being. "So Drift eh? Think my name will scare your subordinates? Our are we already on nicknames Doc?" He teases with not so well hidden pleaser/fondness.

OH YES THIS AKCNGNJGMGNGNGNGMGMGBDINFBMGGM

[kiwisoap]

Another one of my favorite programs I did when I worked at the park wasn't even a planned program, I literally was scheduled to do a completely different program but nobody showed up for it so I was packing up, and I hear this grandma at one of the nearby campsites go "No I'm not taking you down to the lake! Look, there's a park ranger, go ask him and maybe he'll take you". So these siblings who are like 10 and 12 years old come up to me and ask if I could take them to the lake. And since I had a free hour since nobody came to the scheduled program I was like. Fuck it. Let's go to the lake.

So I spent like 30 minutes just chatting and hiking with these two kids down to the lake, stopping to show them cool plants and bugs and stuff along the trail, giving them spicebush leaves to smell, showing them what pawpaw trees look like, etc. When we got to the water they splashed around for a few minutes and I showed them the little animal footprints in the mud and we tried to figure out what kind of creatures they might be from.

But the BEST part was on the way back when we passed by this cluster of milkweed with all kinds of insects all over it, and I told them about how important pollinators are, and how a lot of bees and wasps are actually very docile and don't wanna hurt you, and to demonstrate I patted a bumblebee right on its back. And we spent a few minutes just watching all the insects buzzing around the flowers (wasps and hornets and bumblebees and honeybees and beetles and butterflies) and the brother finally goes "wow.... maybe bees aren't scary after all"

And I was like YEAH!! Bees aren't scary after all! You get it little dude!! One of my favorite moments from that whole summer. I hope he still appreciates bees.

[chososdiscordkitten]

Bite me.

Synopsis:Choso tastes readers blood for the first time >ᵥ_ᵥ<

Pairing: Vampire!Choso x fem!reader Content: porn w/plot, established relationship, blood (duh), biting, missionary, spit stuff, blood stuff, cream pie

MDNI

The little secret Choso had was supposed to stay just that- a secret. A secret pushed to the back of his mind- too shamed and fearful of what could happen had you found out. 

But there were times Choso swore you knew. When you’d carelessly brush your hair onto one side, giving his teeth full access to the tastiest part of you. Even if to the bare eye it wasn’t noticeable, he could see the thick stream of blood in your jugular pulse whenever he looked at it. 

As though you were begging him to sink his teeth into your skin without words. 

His suspicions only grew when you would ask questions in an insinuating tone. Why the brown of his eyes had a sprinkle of crimson in them, why at times he would show up to your apartment- his lips lightly stained in a distant red. And why he had a metallic scent to him every now and then. 

And most of all- why he would look at you like you were a meal to be had. 

And with the blooming relationship between you and him, you simply blamed it on something all humans feel—something a man would feel when looking at a person he had an interest in. 

But to him, Choso never picked apart the reasons why he wanted to drink from you. The only way he could describe it was starvation that couldn’t be satiated even with stolen blood bags. A hunger that Choso felt rumble his very soul when he looked at you. 

And he would push that feeling down- too fearful of the risk of tasting you and the inability to stop, making him wish he was never plagued with such a disease. 

That hunger roused in his heart the very first time you kissed him. Along with the itching feeling of a new kind of hunger. Desperately chasing the warmth your lips pressed onto his cold skin. 

That very same warmth that reminded him that you were filled with the cerise liquid he dreamt of. 

You had your own suspicions. Sure, Choso was a little strange at times. Specific phrases indicating he had claimed you, at once even saying how fucking good you smelled first thing in the morning. It made you squint- and tilt your head in the slightest.

But maybe he just couldn’t formulate ‘normal compliments’ that you had heard before. Instead of strange, you saw it as endearing when he would say those kinds of things. 

But when Choso spoke as though he were from another time, his brown eyes blotted with deep red spots. How his pupils would pulse when you looked a little too closely into them. He could go in the sun, but rare were the times he would.

 The time you nicked yourself while mincing vegetables- he ran up to help. At first, with all the urgency of the world- grabbing your finger and scolding you for being so careless. 

And holding your lightly oozing digit in his hand, he would watch the cherry blood seep from your tissue. And god- your scent stuck in his nose the longer he held you. And when the smell flooded his brain- hazing any reservations he had. 

Choso lifted the tip of your finger to his lips- flashing them up at you only for you to snatch your hand away from him- muttering something about how it would get infected before wrapping it up.

How his cold hands would cling to you and feel the humanity pulse through your veins. The overwhelming urge to have you, have you moved into his place- far too precious to leave you on your own. 

If he, himself- your boyfriend was having these carnal urges to do these things to you- to taste you. What would another person do to you? 

And Choso, when the realization that you would be sleeping beside him- thick thighs bare and your neck exposed, along with the pulse in your wrist. In deep sleep- unaware of the starved creature lying beside you. 

That’s when Choso realized just how masochistic he was being.

He loved you more than enough to endure the rowling thoughts in his mind- enough to stay awake and watch you. Even if he closed his eyes and tried to ignore it- he could hear the liters of blood pulse beneath your skin. Choso endured it as much as he could. 

And with you moving in, it made it harder to hide that secret. Why there was a mini fridge with a lock on it, stuffed full of blood bags—Choso was sure you would find any day now. 

So when it came to the late-night activities only done in the bedroom- as though your bare skin begged for his teeth all over your body. Choso could feel two kinds of hunger pulse beneath his skin when he first touched you.

Even more so when your bare body was pressed against his- unknowing of the torment the act inflicted onto him. The plush warmth that would surround his member, reminding him that you were filled with the tantalizing red liquid everytime he pushed himself into you. 

It ate away at him. It felt like a lie- the idea that you’d look at him as a monster had he told you plagued him.

But he feared you finding the bags and seeing him as a serial killer- or a madman, and losing you before he could explain what he was. 

So he sat you down- hoping you’d have an open mind when he dared say the words. 

Sitting on the couch, his cold hands holding yours. You found it odd—rare were the times Choso held that much severity in his eyes when he spoke to you. 

You smiled genuinely, unknowing what he had to be so serious about. 

His thumbs lightly caressed the tops of your hands. “Do you remember when he watched that movie—with the strange girl and the man who played Batman?” 

You squint your eyes. “Twilight?” His cold thumbs halt their caresses, looking at you seriously with a soft nod. 

Choso started stuttering over his words- saying that he was like that man, but it was different. Words were spewed from his throat, throwing them at you and hoping you would understand. Confessing this greatest sin that had eaten away at him from the moment of meeting you. 

You only raised your eyebrows- hearing the blathering go on and on. Only for your eyes to squint, “Are you trying to tell me you’re a….” hesitating, knowing how insane it would have sounded. 

Choso only nodded, looking down at your hands with a little laugh falling from your lips. “Is this some kind of roleplay you wanted to try?” You joked, watching his face fall from its severity and mumble a small ‘no.’

“First of all- if you were, you wouldn’t be living with me. You’d be off in Rome living in a castle-” Leaning back onto the couch with an unbelieving smile. “And your teeth aren’t pointy.” you giggled, watching the man before you look at you with sorry eyes. 

He parted his lips to speak- “And? I’ve literally seen you go into the sun.” pulling your hands from his and crossing them across your chest. 

“I don’t know how to explain it to you—I can barely comprehend it myself,” he defended, watching your face wear an unamused look. 

You pursed your lips, sarcastically saying, “Start with proof—how ’bout that?” Bored of this larping Choso decided to start. 

Choso pulled his lips to the side, thinking of his least jarring approach. Proof- there was a lot of, but he tried finding the least callous one to show you.

He parted his lips, lightly bearing his top row of teeth with a little huff falling from your throat- seeing the unsharpened canines look back at you. 

Choso thought back to you- closing his eyes and recalling your blood’s metallic scent when he almost lost himself in it. He could hear your steady heartbeat quicken when the pearly canines grew slightly- pointed downwards with a sharp end. 

You scoffed- refusing to believe his attempts at a joke. And as though he could hear your thoughts- claims that this had to be some parlor trick. He reached from your hand, placing it onto his chin and urging you to touch. 

Gulping lightly when his voice rumbled from his throat, “Touch them- they’re real.” 

And as your thumb lightly grazed his bottom lip, you leaned in closer with squinted eyes. Lightly pressing the pad of your thumb against the pointy tooth, unknowing how hard Choso’s heart was beating in that moment. 

You slid your thumb down the tooth, pressing up into the pointed edge with a wince. Pulling away, you looked at the little prick on your thumb. 

You parted your lips to speak, only for Choso to beat you to it. “And-” he muttered, placing his hands on the side of your head and pulling you close to him- looking into your eyes. Far too close and watching the little pupils dilate- the color around them slightly swirling with splotches of red.  

Choso pressed his lips against yours- knowing he had drunk earlier. Pulling away from you and watching your smug expression fade- “Taste it-” he muttered, pressing his lips onto yours again.

And as you allowed his tongue to press against yours- you could taste what he was referring to. The light flavor of metal mixed with his spit. Pulling away from you and holding your head with urge- “Do you taste it?” he muttered, his lips lightly brushing against yours with every word. 

Too in awe and bordering on fear- you only looked into his eyes with a hint of suspicion. 

Standing up and taking your hand- guiding you to that little locked mini fridge and yanking off the lock. Too much urgency and frustration to go find the key. 

He showed you another form of proof he was, as he claimed—his strength. Sure, you knew he was strong—able to manhandle you with ease, leaving light bruises on your skin whenever he would get too rough, able to bring in all the groceries in one trip. You blamed it on his physique, knowing he was beautifully sculpted beneath his loose-fitting clothing. 

But this—pulling a metal lock from a metal hinge without any resistance or even a grunt of struggle leaving his lips. Made you wonder just how strong he was—and how much he was holding back before now.

All of that was proof enough- but the sight of neatly stacked blood bags confirmed it. You stood there for a second- looking at the crimson bags of plastic and feeling Choso’s gaze on your skin. Suddenly, too aware of how vulturous it felt. Before, it felt admiration-filled. It felt like a gaze full of love.

But now it felt like he was looking at you with appetite. 

Your heartbeat beating quickly made Choso realize you took this seriously now. You looked over at him- face deadpan with your eyes hinting to fear. “You don’t- eat people, right?” you muttered, a scared tone infiltrating his ears. 

Choso looked down to the ground, “Not currently, no.” he confessed, hearing your hand lightly close the little door of the minifridge and gulp. 

“Are you gonna eat me?” you asked, causing his eyes to flash back up to you in fear. 

He knit his eyebrows and took your hands in his again, “I would never eat you.” he vowed, looking into your eyes. 

“Have you thought about it?” you murmured, watching his eyebrows pinch in shame. 

“it’s hard not to,” he confessed, watching your head lightly nod. 

And with a light inhale- you walked back onto the couch, watching him sit on the other end as you stared at him. A million questions whirring in your mind as he shifted in your gaze. Wishing he could hear what you were thinking. 

Somehow, still trying to justify the proof you asked for; just more larping, he’s a weirdo- or a psychopath. But that softness in his eyes- gave you a reason to try and ignore the proof. 

You stared at him for a few minutes, trying to find the words to say- or an excuse to leave the apartment and run. 

And when you were finally able to conjure the words, “Can I ask questions?” you peered, your face stoic and unshowing how hard your heart was beating. Choso nodded his head ‘yes’- knowing the truth of what he just confessed must feel like a lie. 

In a world of fictional demons and countless books written with blood sucking people- it was fair that you had your suspicions. 

Choso knew—he watched those very movies with you, holding back comments like ‘that’s not true’ whenever an incorrect fact was spoken in the films.

Even if you held a deadpan expression, your heartbeat gave away how you truly felt, “For how long have you been,” stopping your sentence short and thinking on what word to use. 

“Since the 1870’s.” he spoke honestly. 

You peeked your eyebrows- mentally doing the math and taking a long blink. “That would make you-”

“175 years old.”

You lightly grimaced, thinking back on every time he would say some timely word you had only heard in the black-and-white movies you’d watch with him. “Why are you here—with me?” you reiterated, watching his avoidant eyes look down at his hands. 

“I mean, it must be torture,” you muttered, thinking of the difficulty shown in every movie with this exact plot line. 

Choso looked up at you. “At times, it can be.” He lightly nodded, being able to hear your heartbeat slow in the slightest. “But I know I would never hurt you.” 

After a handful more questions; if he preferred a specific kind of blood, what kind of people tasted better. Your heartbeat fell back into its normal state. 

There was an adjustment period- asking if you could sleep on the couch rather than next to him. Not scared- but nervous to sleep next to him. And Choso being the man he was- he took that responsibility and slept on the couch for as long as you asked. 

But then came the moment of acceptance- and Choso swore you started doing these things on purpose. Pulling your hair back and giving him a complete view of your neck. As controlled as his bloodlust was- it was still obscene how thirsty he got looking at you. And something carnal threatened to control his actions rather than his head. 

And times when he would hug you- getting a nose full of that sweet scent that seeped from your skin. Or when you started sleeping in tank tops- exposing more of your skin to him as you slept. Helpless and too tired to notice his heavy gaze on your collarbones. 

It also didn’t help when you realized that Choso was turned when he was a few years older than you— it hit you like a truck. 

Fearing to get older than the age he was when he was turned. Then came the talk of if he would turn you. 

When Choso thought about it- he wasn’t like any other protagonist in any vampire media. Choso was selfish and afraid of the day when you’d die- leaving him to roam the earth alone again. 

“It isn’t as simple as just turning you,” he muttered, knowing what it meant when someone like him turned their partner. That’s the only part the stupid films got correct.

Sat on the kitchen counter and watching him patter through the kitchen- cooking you a meal as you pestered him with the same question. “You mean the whole- once I turn, we’re supposed to stay together forever?” you asked, unamused with the doubt he held. 

“That- and technically, you’d be soulless,” he muttered as you let out a small laugh. 

“Of all people- you are the last one I would describe as soulless, Choso.” 

You scoffed, pulling your hair to the side and watching his shoulders tense up. Slightly tilting your neck and looking at him- “Is it not tempting?” You whispered in a taunt, watching his eyes flash to the smooth skin you displayed for him. 

Thinking the way it worked was the same as the Twilight movies- one bite and you’d be turned, right? 

Only your offerings meant nothing but a way of tasting you. Choso knew you wouldn’t become as he was from one bite. But christ- it was tempting. 

It made his brain throb in his skull, being able to hear every little pulse your neck pumped with crimson. “It doesn’t work like that.” he muttered, stepping away from the stove and taking a step towards you. 

“Still, you never wanted to taste it-” his hips easing between your thighs, placing his cold hands against the sides of your thighs. “You never wanted to taste me?” you whispered, his eyes blinking down to the exposed skin of your neck and gulping. 

Choso’s hands gripped lightly at your thighs, almost bracing for what he was about to say- “I don’t want to hurt you.” he breathed, his eyes dark and full of want. 

“You can control yourself, right?” you whispered, his head nodding softly. “Think about it- once I turn, you’ll never be able to taste me.” tone full of feigned pity, knowing he would turn you- even if he hadn’t said it yet.

Choso’s lips parted slightly and his mouth went dry. The thought pained his heart- knowing you had a point. “‘Lemme think about it.” he muttered, kissing your cheek quickly before turning back to the pan on the stove. 

You sighed a drawn-out breath, “Dunno how you do it,” you muttered, watching his shoulders fall from tension. “If you were begging me to bite you- to taste you.” you exhaled sharply, “I wouldn’t have made you ask twice.” 

And he did think about it- weighing out the options in his brain. How bad it would actually be if he tasted you- ’cause that’s all you offered. Just a taste, but with how sweet you smelled- Choso wasn’t sure that 'ust a taste' would be enough for him. 

That paired with the pain you would feel, two sharp teeth sinking into your skin- Choso had no idea why you would keep offering. Why you kept provoking him to hurt you. 

So one late night, your hands drawing searing touches onto Choso’s skin with your lips softly peppering kisses onto his cheek.  

Most of the time, it was you who would instigate these activities. Too afraid to hurt you had Choso not kept his hands to himself. 

However, this was the first time you instigated these acts after he confessed his secret to you. And still- Choso tried keeping his hands to himself, even if your own were daring to slip past the band of his sweats. 

Topless and on your back, legs spread with his hips daring to rut into your clothed core. You raised a hand beneath the hem of his t-shirt, lightly grazing his back with your nails and kissing his ear lightly. 

“Touch me-” you whispered into his ear, intent and urge soaking your words as his hands roam up your thighs. 

A soft whimper left his lips at your words- his mind reeling at the fact that you were aware of the kind of monster he was, and you still wanted his touch. 

His lips lightly pressed kisses onto your jugular- holding all the restraint he could as he felt the pulse of life beneath your skin. Your hands tugging at the fabric on his back in desperation- his hips responding by bucking into the clothing separating him from your warmth. 

Taking a hand from your hip and placing it onto the band of your bottoms- sinking his fingers beneath the layers and to your soaked cunt. Showing him just how negligent he had been since he confessed to you. 

A light whimper left your lips as he pulled his own from your neck, too tempted by the vulnerability to keep himself there. 

The tips of his middle and ring fingers sink down to the source of your slick- lightly circling at your entrance and coating them before trailing them to the puffy bud atop. 

Placing your lips on his again- desperate to relieve the ache between your legs as your tongue swirled against his. The distant taste of metal in his mouth as your eyebrows knitted together. His eager fingers started small circles against you, his hips mindlessly bucking into the air between you as your moans rumbled onto his lips.

It was agonizing the pace Choso tried keeping- your walls so desperate to pull him between them and feel him thrust. 

The light touch his fingers kept only made your hips buck into his hand- gasping between every other kiss at the pressure. The grip his other hand held on your side- bordering on bruising from how frustrated he was starting to feel. 

Beneath the layers of fabric- throbbing tears soiling his bottoms with every light roll his hips made to relieve the yearning his cock felt. 

You tried holding out- suffered sighs of frustrations leaving your lips as his hand continued its snail pace. 

But the ache you felt- Choso’s fingers only taunted it. So as you pulled away from him- looking into the mix of brown and red eyes staring back at you, “Need you inside-” you murmured with need, your words filling the air between your lips and his as your hands pushed down the band of his sweats. 

The tips of your fingers pressing against the side of his thigh- almost as a plea. 

And as you asked of him, Choso clashed his lips back to yours as he removed his hand from your bottoms- his hands full of desire as they pulled your pj bottoms off. Far too eager and desperate to grant your wish with the sweet scent of your skin filling the air- muddying his mind as your hands assisted in removing his bottoms. 

Tugging at the hem of his shirt with his chest heaving- watching his hands remove the useless fabric and toss it aside. A small groan of appeasement left your lips as you got an eyeful of his sculpted torso. 

Wasting no time in placing your hands on his hips, guiding him to ease himself back where he was before. Choso’s cockhead bordered on turning a violent shade of red as his hands found their place on your hips. 

Your hand reaching for is base- urging him to sink into you as you had asked. Choso’s mind was hazy, unable to think as he looked down to the millimeters of space separating his cock from your entrance. 

Your bare skin secreting the aroma the cause of the misty state his brain was in. Feeling the light pang of his canines that threatened to grow- a telltale sign he wanted to feed. 

His hips followed the guidance your hand led him to, sucking air sharply through his teeth as your warmth surrounded the tip of his aching cock. The alarming rate of your heartbeat causes his eyes to blink back at you. 

Wearing a desperate expression and a trembling lip- your mouth whispering muddy words in a silent plea. 

And as your hand eased off his cock- Choso’s hips moved forwards, nuzzling his tip further into you as he closed his lips. Avoiding your gaze with his eyes shut tight- trying to hold back every urge that pulsed in his head. 

His hips started slow strokes, easing himself out of you with a sigh of desperation. And your cunt tried with all its might to suck him back in, and Choso- not knowing how much longer he could keep his urges at bay, was so fucking close to rutting into you again- quicker and without hesitation. 

Your hands clawed at his biceps, drawing him from the focus he tried holding. Soft moans escaped your plush lips when the tip of his cockhead nudged against the most sensitive spot inside of you.

Choso raised his head to face you- his mouth parted and his eyebrows pinched tightly. Your eyes caught onto the glistening peaks of white that Choso’s lips tried hiding, eyes full of hunger and thirst. 

His hand rose from your hip and landed on your neck, feeling the warmth course beneath his grasp. Some way of bracing himself as he fought off the impulse.

Your hand trailed up his shoulder, landing on his nape and lightly pulling his ear to your lips. With a tone that sounded like the very gates of heaven to his ears, “Bite me.” you whispered, your hand guiding his head down to your neck where his lips previously kissed. 

Choso’s mind was too foggy to even focus on his past reservations. The hand at his back clawing gently, your cunt surrounding his cock, the light hold your hand held on his scalp; made Choso yield the very last of his will over to you. 

Closing his eyes as his nose engulfed the scent of your skin, his hips losing pattern in the slow strokes he held. Parting his lips and placing a wet kiss onto the place his teeth ached for. 

The light moans leaving your lips were heard as an urgency to his ears, bearing his teeth and lightly grazing the sharp canines against your skin. A shiver settling in your spine at the feather-like scratch. 

Choso’s teeth sinking into your skin with a wince mixed with a gasp falling from your lips. The groan Choso rumbled against the punctures made your hand lightly pull on his hair, tucking your lip between your teeth at the sting, losing the feeling of it as it mixed with the pleasure from his cock. 

Choso almost came when your taste waved into his mouth. His thrusts sloppy as the saccharine taste of you trickled down his throat- warm, unlike the countless blood bags he had sustained himself on. And sweet- so fucking sweet.

Eyes closed and bordering on rolling to the back of his head with his hips quickening. 

Then the reminder of, ‘just a taste’ rumbled in his mind. Unsheathing his sharp teeth from your skin and opening his eyes. Looking back to you- small trickles of blood on his lip with a look of fear in his eyes. His breathing labored and trying to hold back the throaty whines that dared leave his lips. 

You moaned lightly- pulling his lips back to yours and tasting yourself on him. Uncaring of the strong taste of metal, you slathered your tongue against his, sloppy and inconsistent. Mostly sharp teeth clashing against your own as your essence laced his spit. 

Your hold on his hair strengthened, a mess forming between your lips and his. Your eyes squinting tightly as his thrusts became rougher, the warmth in your tummy pooling at the action.

The hand on the opposite side of your neck lightly squeezed in desperation, your orgasm building as his tip bullied your gspot. Pulling away from him in a hymn-like moan, unable to keep the attempts of a kiss with every strong thrust he made. 

Choso’s eyes blinked at your lips, lightly glazed in your essence with a small smudge at the corner of your mouth. He couldn’t help the mumbled words of, ‘M’sorry-’ that left his throat, connecting his lips with yours again and feeling the walls of your cunt flutter around him. 

His eyes rolling back with the evident taste on your tongue. Thrusts sloppy and fast- pounding into you as your hands tugged at whatever they could find. Clawing at the broad of his back, and grasping a handful of brown hair in the other. 

Soft whines lacing your exhales as you come undone, a low guttural moan separating your lips from his. Choso’s teeth clenched at the sudden vice-like grasp your cunt held around him. 

The hand on your hip held a mean grip as he worked himself to orgasm. His chest caving against yours with every sharp exhale he made. 

Your hand trailed from his hair and down to his jaw, placing your thumb on his lower cheek and curling your fingers beneath his chin. Angling his face for you to see, his scarlet-tinted lips trembling, his dark hairline dampened with a light veil of sweat, your low eyes watched with soft grunts leaving your lips. 

Choso parted his eyes as he felt the grip you held his lower face with, watching an expression of desire form on your face as he felt the wave of his orgasm crash through him with a low grunt. 

Thick and heavy pumps of his essence filled you, watching his peaked eyebrows wiggle with the slowing thrusts his hips made. 

Huffing heavily as he nuzzled his cock further into you- as deep as he could. Lowering his forehead to yours and batting his eyes closed, pressing down a lazy kiss to your plush lips. 

Steadying his breathing as your hands eased their grip. Lifting himself slightly, blinking his eyes open in a hazy afterglow- darting his eyes to the holes he punched into your skin. 

Regret filling his stomach as he lightly tilts your head to the side, to give him a better view of the wounds. Mentally scolding himself for losing control and doing as you asked, even if the light trickling of your blood enticed him for more- the love he felt in his heart overrode his primal urges. 

Easing himself out of you with a wince, sitting on his knees as you followed him. Pulling a sheet from the side of the bed over your bare body.  

Sitting up and feeling his hand hold your neck in a curve, you grinned, peering into his worried expression. "It's okay." you declared.

You reached up to his hand, holding it in yours and looking at him straight on. “I liked it.” you whispered, watching his eyes blink in confusion. The corners of his mouth stained with your blood, parting his lips as you lightly caressed his cold hand. 

Furrowing his eyebrows in disappointment in himself, “I can't-” Choso whispered, bordering on a whimper. 

Just seeing the scabbing wounds was more painful to him than to you. 

Knowing he was the one that did it- hurt just as much. And yet you asked for more. Continuously offering yourself as his own personal blood bag- warmed to the perfect temperature and laced with the sweetest flavor that he had ever tasted.

And he tried—Choso tried with everything in him not to let your words convince him otherwise. But the taste of you couldn’t be washed out from his tongue—not even with a hundred bags of cold blood from strangers. 

So convinced that it was only because it came from someone he loved- that he found such addiction in it. That and how you would allow him to drink the liquid from your skin knowing it would satiate his hunger. 

And everytime you would offer your body to him- he would always look at your eyes, asking for your sanction. 

Even if the hunger pulsed in his stomach, that’s what he would wait for- the clear permission he was allowed to sink himself into you again. 

-

(a.n) how I only used the word 'vampire' once? I have no idea.

[fiendishfables]

Lucifer is one of those guys who is really happy to love someone & to be loved in return. He would treat you right, that’s for sure. 💕👹

Lucifer Morningstar Headcannons

warnings: nsfw, fluff

words: 584

a/n: this feels a bit rushed because I tried to make it earlier, but tumblr loves to delete my progress on things so- blep. Also, whoever is sending these in, I LOVE YOU, these are fun, hehe <3

SFW

Due to his questionable past, Lucifer has always been a bit skeptical of love

Unfortunately, he is used to the good things in his life, the things he so happens to love the most, up and abandoning him 

But then, Lucifer being Lucifer, he’s all too forgiving

He is quite the incentive driven creature 

If he goes into a relationship where he knows he will be granted the gift of receiving the same pleasures that he himself provides for his partner, he just might have to poke at you a bit to ensure that you are indeed a real being, and not some walking figment of his imagination

His motivations are similar to those of a puppy

Besides being a good boy as unintentionally as he does, he is lured in by the sense of some sort of reward

Bonus points if that reward involves some sort of physical contact, no matter the level of intimacy

This man is touch starved; put your hands on him in one way or another, please

Honestly, just jump on his back and hug him; he loves little displays of affection like that the most (even if you almost give him a heart attack the first few times)

You openly offering him the affection he so dearly craves from another person, it’s a for sure way to get him to stick around 

In fact, you may never be able to get rid of him

Lucifer, despite being in Hell, may just be the most loyal soul down in that shithole

Once the two of you have an officially established relationship, just the thought of being with anyone else other than you makes him cringe

He makes sure to mark his calendars for any sort of important date; anniversaries, date nights, dinners, etc

Yes, he has multiple calendars; he forgets things easy, but that just shows his devotion towards you is as true as he claims it is

Randomly will turn up at your domicile with a bouquet of flowers every now and again

Doesn’t have to be a special occasion or anything; just wants to show his love and appreciation for you

Finding someone that reciprocates his lovable energy and spirit is not easy, but you managed to snare his heart from the get-go

NSFW

Speaking of reciprocating love for another, Lucifer is a natural at pleasuring his partner

He refuses to leave the bedroom unless you convince him that you are truly satisfied with his efforts

Won’t let you pleasure him and then not give you anything back

It's just not in his nature to leave his lover awaiting his touch; he can’t go a day without yours, so why should you have to?

His tongue is as talented as they come; he can eat you out like there's no tomorrow to do so

King of praise

Loves to praise you and make you feel good with his actions, as well as his words

Always asks if you’re enjoying whatever he’s doing to you; if he gets even a hint that you’re uncomfortable, he’ll freeze like a deer in headlights

Probably cries during sex sometimes, claiming that he doesn’t deserve you; then proceeds to go on a fifteen minute rant about how lucky he is to have found a kind soul such as yourself to make him happy again

Every time you two make love it’s as if its your last

You’ve done so much for him; the least he can do is make you feel good