#something is rotten inside me i swear

[etherealhoneypie]

they say you’re a little much for me you’re a liability you’re a little much for me so they pull back make other plans i understand i’m a liability get you wild make you leave i’m a little much for everyone

[supercutszns]

rotten to the touch; luke castellan

series masterlist

wc: 3.2k

pairing: pre-tlt luke castellan x f! reader

synopsis: you’re pretty sure you’re an awful person. you’re pretty sure luke castellan is too. and you’re pretty sure you want to make out with him.

warnings: reader is flawed & not the greatest, luke is ... a little dark🫣, small mention of blood, swearing, lots of making out but no explicit nsfw, a bit toxic, & no more more ‘i can fix him’ or ‘i can make him worse’ it’s ‘he can make ME worse’

notes: this is… sluttier than my usual stuff so it’s not as good but i’m trying, feedback is appreciated! also i wonder what cabin we think this reader would be in, let me know where you’d place her im curious :) maybe i’ll write more of her in the future she’s interesting!! and thank you for 100 followers i am so grateful<3 designated song for this fic is crush by ethel cain

You are a miserable, wicked, asshole of a person, and everybody knows it. Including you.

It’s unclear to you why you turned out this way—every reason to blame never satiates the fury searing your insides. All the campers hate you. The counsellors, too. Even Chiron looks down on the viciousness inside you. You are Camp Half-Blood’s black sheep; a mean, bitter person with no love for the people around you. And it’s not just for show. You know you’re rotten. You know the anger will never go away.

It’s evident in the things you think about other people—the way you pick them apart in your head, toss them aside, because they just don’t see it. This miserable, unforgiving world, with children sleeping on wooden floors because the people who created you think you disposable. Because they can just make more of you. More, more, more, until one of you comes out rotten, born of all the ugliness they have inside them. You are the worst parts of Godly blood. The wrathful parts.

Everyone hates you. Everyone hates a person with an unquenchable anger.

But everyone loves Luke Castellan.

He’s a saint at Camp Half-Blood if there ever was one. Handsome, generous, kind. Goes out of his way to help out the new kids and gives them homes in his cabin. He’s the best swordsman in camp by a mile. Shit, you’d even love Luke Castellan if you didn’t know any better.

But you do, and you don’t, and it’s complicated, okay?

Because there’s something you know about Luke Castellan that nobody else does: he’s miserable and wicked, too.

You see it in his eyes sometimes. The way they look at you at dinner, when you’re picking at your food away from anyone else at your table. Something familiar rises in them, and your stomach twists. His body tenses whenever someone mentions his father, but the smiles he flashes are so charismatic nobody notices. But you do. It’s exciting.

During sword practice, he quips back and forth with the kids and laughs whenever they take a jab at him. He’s light, easy, carefree. But you see how he holds back, the tension in his shoulder, the way the arc of his sword never fully finishes. So you wait until everybody leaves and he’s alone, with the training dummies and the setting sun. And you. Hiding.

He slashes through them and spears through their heads. You see it, the gnashing of his teeth, the sweat curling down his cheeks. There’s something there. A chasm he’s hopeless to fill.

Before you know it, you’re going out of your way to catch him training alone. It’s creepy, you know, and awful, you know, but the more you watch him the more you see a sort of violence scabbed under his skin.

Whenever you see him now, the feeling you get is entirely foreign to you. It’s almost . . . longing.

Wherever she is, you’re pretty sure Aphrodite’s having a cosmic fucking laugh. And you’re sure she’s laughing double tonight.

The Aphrodite cabin is hosting some secret party for the older counsellors. You’re definitely of age to be a counsellor, but you’ve never been made one because that would probably make half the campers drop out. Chiron and Mr. D don’t know what to do with you. You’re sure you’ll be kicked out of camp soon for good.

But you’re here anyways, for a reason you don’t want to admit, and you stay tucked in a corner as the world around you mingles. Luke is on the other side of the room, lovely as always, laughing with a few other counsellors. He brings a drink up to his lips, and you have a startling thought of what it would be like to kiss him. And you’re fucked. You’re so fucked. Because for the first time in your life you want something tangible, something real. You want to hear him and feel him and pry him apart, and a part of you wants him to actually see you, see all the awful things that might make you the same. You feel like a teenage girl with a crush, and it is infuriating.

An Aphrodite girl comes up to you with a foolish smile. “Hey, sorry, you want a drink?”

“Fuck off, you idiot,” you snarl.

You wait for her to leave. She doesn’t. “You know, you don’t have to be so mean all the time,” she says evenly. “If you’re here, you might as well enjoy it. So yes, I want to give you a drink.”

“Have you ever thought that I’m not being mean? Maybe I just am.”

You glare at her. She looks you up and down. “Sure,” she shrugs, walking away. There’s a vivid picture in your mind of her falling through a hole in the cabin floor. It doesn’t soothe you, but at least the fantasy is there.

The night drones on. You’re sick of the smells and the laughs and the heat. And you’re sick of yourself. You can’t believe, underneath all your sourness, you came here to stare at a boy you barely know, and you don’t even know why. He’s fascinating, and you resent him, and he’s also beautiful. But he’s looked back at you all of three times tonight and you’re sick of the way your skin crawls when he does.

Leaving the cabin brings the relief of the cool night air, and the singularity of your body. You are the only one who feels this rage. You are the only one who hates.

To stave off your discomfort you walk around to the back of the cabin, to the crest of the hill facing the water. The stars above twinkle at you in spite. There’s a bitterness in your throat you want to wash down with something worse (maybe you should have taken that drink), but you know it won’t matter. Nothing matters. Those stars and whatever they hide are apparently the only important things in the universe, so why should anyone care about anything?

They stars only get brighter. It’s probably their goal to piss you off. You grunt, “Oh, fuck you,” to them. It’s not enough, never nearly enough to expel the rotten part of you. “Fuck you. Fuck off!” You groan at the sky. Nothing happens. Until:

“I’m guessing you’re not having a fun night.”

You whirl around. It’s hard to see in the dark, but whatever light is left catches a long scar on a cheek. Your stomach knots.

“Yeah, me neither,” Luke Castellan says, hands in his pockets as he meanders towards you.

Even when he’s close enough, you don’t say anything. If you do, you’re afraid it’ll be something ugly. Like I kind of want to make out with you. Are you awful too? I need a lobotomy.

The thoughts almost make you laugh. Been a long time since you’ve been funny.

He nods at the sky. “Those things don’t talk. You do know that, right?” He’s still so captivating, so self-assured, even when there’s no one around but you.

“Gods, you’re the worst,” you scoff. You really mean it, so you can’t look him in the eye.

“Then why have you been staring at me all night?”

It catches you so off-guard that you whip back to face him. He has an eyebrow raised and the itch of a smile that makes you burn with shame. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

He shrugs, leaning against the cabin wall. “I’m not stupid. You’ve been brooding in the corner watching me the second you came in.” He cocks his head to the side, adding, “Actually, you stare at me all the time. At meals and stuff. I really hope you don’t think you’re being subtle.”

You huff. “Okay, if we’re really being honest here, you started that! You do it too! All the time!”

His hands shot up like he was being arrested. “Hey, I never said I minded it. A guy’s . . . just gotta wonder. What’s up with you spying on me when I’m training alone, anyways?”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You watch me when there’s nobody else around. I’m not blind. It’s weird. If you want tips you can just ask me. Or if you like what you’re looking at, at least be upfront about it.”

You speak before you can take in that last sentence, or the way his smile took pride in itself when he said it, or how embarrassed you should probably feel. “You didn’t answer my question about why you started staring at me first.”

The anger (shame) blinding you made you forget how close you are to him right now. Close enough to touch, but not enough to see. But almost there. Almost.

“People think you’re mean,” Luke says after a moment, his dark eyes probing you. The words curl out of his mouth slowly, like he’s choosing them all with care. “You’re rude. You never listen to anyone. You judge everything. They all think you’re awful.” Again, he looks you over. “I’m not so sure.”

“If I’m awful, then you’re awful,” you spit before he can say anything else.

He just shrugs. “Well, I guess that’s why I’m not sure.”

It’s irritating, his calmness. He has the same anger you do. How come he can just . . . shove it down? You try to unearth any fury in his eyes, but it’s too far back. Simmering. “Jesus,” you mutter, “You’re worse than me.”

He looks genuinely taken aback by this. His scar deepens when his brows wrinkle. “What?”

“You’re a pretender—that’s what you are.” It’s your turn now, to step closer, to make his skin crawl. “Look at you. Everyone loves you. You’re this perfect golden boy and you’re sweet and attentive and whatever the fuck but you know it’s one giant lie. At least I’m honest, but you just sit pretty and act like you don’t have that . . . thing that I have. Resentment. Insanity. Whatever you want to call it. We’re the same, but I’m the only one getting shit for it.”

Now, you are close enough to really see him. The patterns on the wood behind him frame the vision of his ever-shifting face. You realize that this, like most things are to Luke Castellan, is a challenge. You also can’t remember the last time you saw him lose one.

But when you play, you play to win.

“You don’t know that,” he dares.

“Oh, I do. You’re rotten, Castellan,” you sneer, index finger jabbed into his chest. You can feel his heartbeat if you concentrate. “And you’re not owning up to it, so you’re also a coward.”

However scathing you look, it isn’t enough. If anything it only makes Luke’s manner more playful. Nothing feels playful anymore. Everything, inside and outside of your mind, feels like constant, exhausting war. Maybe that’s why you don’t slap his hand off you when it wraps around your wrist, keeping it pressed to the middle of his chest. His heartbeat thrums through you.

He tilts his face towards you, grinning, “Then why do you want to kiss me?”

All right. What the fuck. It feels like you’ve been electrocuted.

“What the—what are you talking about?” You blunder, but he knows, of course he knows, because there’s something between the two of you that has been formed and understood by eye contact alone. He can probably read your mind. As much as you don’t want to admit it, you’d like to read his just as much.

He cocks his head. “I mean, you did call me pretty,” he teases, and it’s almost endearing. “You’re pretty like this too.” His other hand comes up to your face, and you’re surprised you don’t flinch when his thumb gently smooths the crease in your eyebrows. “Don’t call me a coward, heathen. Then we’ll both be embarrassed.”

The nickname makes you want to fight, but the touch makes you dizzy. “You don’t want to kiss me, Luke,” you say with all the control you have, which, right now, is increasingly sparse.

“You’ve gotta stop telling people what they want,” he muses. The hand on your wrist traces further down your forearm. The one on your face snakes around your hips. “One of your more disagreeable qualities.”

His words fan over you. That fire simmering in his eyes has finally come to the surface.

“One of?” You challenge.

“You let me make out with you and I’ll give you a whole list.”

You snort, hoping it hides the shortness in your breath. “What a charmer you are.”

His lips brush yours. “Well, that’s what makes me so rotten, isn’t it?”

There’s hardly time to unravel if that’s a question or a statement because you grab a fistful of his shirt and he kisses you. Your heart detonates. It is not rotten in the slightest.

His body is warm and firm. You smell the cabin wood and the drink on his breath. It all matters, and none of it does. You’re warm everywhere as he wraps both arms around your back, and the way he kisses is, unfortunately, exactly how you thought he would. Your hands are tentative in his hair. So is your mouth on his. But Luke is so deliberate in the way he kisses that you know he’s thought about this, too. It makes you all the warmer.

His hand takes your jaw and tilts it up. You know your neck is shaky with breath, and you’re pretty sure he’s admiring it. You don’t complain when he presses a kiss to your jaw, then another one, like he’s testing the waters. “You’re so nice like this,” he mutters almost to himself, thumb running across your neck. “If only people could see you.”

“Then they’d see how mean you are too, no?” You huff. “You don’t want that.”

Another kiss to your jaw. “Not yet, sweetheart.”

Whatever feeling is harbouring in your body right now, it’s so fulfilling it almost makes you uncomfortable. You want to reject it. You’re not supposed to want things. Worse, you’re not supposed to get things. Luke starts marking a path down your neck and you are so determined to enjoy this that you’d kiss a fucking baby if someone asked you to. You might as well be a saint.

He bites the pulse point on your neck, sure to leave a mark, and a shudder rips through you. You’re pretty sure the bastard starts laughing. You hit his shoulder in retaliation.

“Easy, heathen,” he reprimands in your ear, and you know he’s still smiling.

“Don’t—don’t call me that.” You hate that you start to smile, too, and that your stomach burgeons with butterflies when he pulls back to look at you.

He touches the corner of your upturned mouth, kiss-bitten and red. His expression is boyish. “Hard to when it makes your face do that,” he goads. “I thought it was impossible for you to smile.”

“Be quiet.” You thread a hand through his camp necklace and bring him closer. You can almost taste his mouth on yours, but he sweeps past you at the last minute.

He gently tugs your earlobe with his teeth and whispers, “Yes ma’am.”

Fuck him. Seriously. You might have to.

It’s a tangle of teeth and hands and smiles kept hidden, as you slip your fingertips beneath his shirt and he does the same, and you’re both angry and greedy and incredibly destructive, but it doesn’t matter yet. Now you’re just teenagers fooling around at the back of a party, and it’s the first good thing either of you have had in a long time. Luke leaves you gasping whenever his mouth hits certain places, maybe too many places, and he teases you accordingly. “So sensitive,” he taunts, pressing his knee between your legs so he can see you squirm. You rake your nails through his scalp and he tilts his head back to groan. It shuts him up for a while.

He bites your neck until you say his name. You trace lines on his stomach till he takes your hand in his own. You’ve been hungry for something your whole life, and you finally have something to sink your teeth into. For better or for worse.

After Hades knows how long, laughter floats out from the front of the cabin. Sounds of feet tripping over each other and muffled goodbyes. You pull away from Luke, chests heaving together. His hair is wild, his shirt crumpled, and he looks entirely satisfied with it. Smug little shit. “Party’s letting out,” you mutter.

“What a damn shame.” His hand rubs your jaw, and it’s too tender a gesture so you angle your head away to peek over the side of the cabin. You barely pay attention to the kids straggling back to their bunks.

“Is now the time you tell me all my horrible qualities?” You ask once you’re ready to look at him again.

He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Actually, I came up with more since I said that so I’m pretty sure it’ll take more than one night.” He fakes a wince, “Might have to spread it out for a few days.”

You roll your eyes, “Oh, you ass.”

“I’ll give you one for starters.” You feel like a tornado when he kisses the juncture between your jaw and your neck. “Your hands are too cold.” They’re tucked underneath his shirt right now, pressed against his back. You don’t move them. “And,” he adds, “you’re incredibly crass.”

“Thanks, dipshit.”

“Thank you for proving my point, heathen.”

The commotion at the front gets louder, and you know your time to go undiscovered runs short. “You meet me again tomorrow, and I start telling you the rest?” He raises his brows.

The prospect both repulses and excites you, although perhaps they’re hand-in-hand. You tentatively reach up to trace the scar on his face. A faint, jagged line that holds scripture within it. His eyes flutter shut for a moment. “Even though I’m rotten?” You ask, and there’s an echo of mischief in your voice, too.

He’s got a strange expression when he looks at you. “That’s not true.”

He leans down, angles his head to kiss you. It’s slow, but bitter, and he bites down on your lip until you’re pretty sure there’s blood. “Luke,” you murmur, and he kisses you softer. You lean into him like a hapless, lovesick fool.

After you part, he loosens his grip on you. The bumbling campers have gotten louder. He stares at you, and you see the chasm in his eyes again, brimming with fire. Same as yours. You know you’ll see him tomorrow.

He says, “You’re not rotten. You’re right.”

And damn it, you really do believe him.

[empresskylo]

can you make a fix of cod guys reaction to you getting into an argument with them, which causes us to flinch and cover our face from any impact because we had an abusive ex.

featuring Ghost, Price, Soap, Gaz, Konig, & Alejandro

⊹ cod men x gn!reader

[ warnings ] domestic violence implications

cod masterlist

Ghost

He’d run his hand through his hair if he didn’t have this bloody mask on. Ghost looked down at you, his eyes narrowing in and scrutinizing your every minute detail. You tried to glare back, but you were feeling rather small with the weight of his disappointed glower. 

“You’ve got t’be more careful,” his voice boomed, though he was trying to keep it at a normal level. 

“I know, I’m sorry—”

“Sorry isn’t gonna cut it when you get someone killed,” he growled, taking a step in, closing the space between the two of you. 

You stepped back on instinct and bumped into the wall—trapped. You suddenly felt trapped. You knew that logically he wouldn’t hurt you, but something about his pissed-off demeanor and towering frame triggered something in you. Your breathing increased exponentially and Ghost watched helplessly as your chest rose and fell in rapid beats.

A bit taken aback by your response, Ghost raised a hand to grab your shoulder and you turned your head and shied away. You let out a small gasp as if waiting for him to land a blow on you. 

You squeezed your eyes shut, the entire moment passing by excruciatingly slow. That’s when you knew you fucked up. Ghost dropped his hand and his fist clenched, putting everything together all at once. Something inside him broke seeing you look at him like that—with fear in your eyes. It fucking hurt.

“M’not gonna hurt you,” he said in a much softer tone than earlier. He’d never lay a hand on you, even out of love, if you didn’t want it.

You blinked rapidly, forcing yourself to look up at him, your face inflamed. “I-I know. I didn’t… I don’t know why…” The words got lost in your throat. You were so embarrassed. 

“Who?” He asked sharply.

You tilted your head, your hands squeezing at your sides. Ghost took a step back to give you room, though he wanted nothing more than to step into you closer, to pull you against him. He didn’t care how annoyed he was with you, all that drifted away, unimportant nonsense he’d come back to later.

“ Who… ?” You repeated.

“Who. Hurt. You?” He bent over slightly, aligning his face with yours as he talked, making sure you couldn’t turn your face away from him. 

“J-Just an ex-boyfriend. It’s not a big deal. I don’t know why I responded like that. I-I know you wouldn’t hurt me.”

Ghost sighed, his eyes dancing between yours. “No. I wouldn’t.” His voice was dark and deep again. “But I have nothin’ against hurtin’ that bastard.”

“Ghost, please.”

He straightened and rolled his shoulders, trying to suppress the bubbling anger. He looked down at you at last. “Can I touch you?” He asked softly.

You nodded, tears falling down your cheeks now. He tentatively took a step towards you and pulled you into his arms. He wrapped them securely around you and you nuzzled your face into his jacket. If he wasn’t so shocked over the way you responded to him, he’d be yelling at you to tell you who it was that hurt you so he could hunt them down. 

Instead, he clutched you close to him, trying not to think about the fear that crossed your eyes, even if it was momentarily. Even if it wasn’t because of him. He never wanted you to look at him like that again. Something rotten tugged at his heart as he felt you try to stifle your cries. Oh, he was definitely going to kill that bastard. And he was going to make it slow and painful.  

Price

You chased after Price as he made his way down the hall. “I swear I didn’t mean to—!”

He cut you off, spinning on his heels, making you bump into his chest and slam to a halt. “It doesn’t matter what you meant !” He yelled, losing his composure briefly. 

You flinched at his loud words, stepping away from him. It was a quick movement, a subtle tick of your face, your eyes squinted as you pulled your head away. You acted like this was something you were all too familiar with. 

Immediately Price’s anger shifted away from you and onto whatever bastard trained you to cower. 

His widened eyes traced your face and you slowly read his expression as he came to the realization of why you would flinch away from him when he shouted. You watched as several emotions crossed Price’s countenance. 

His voice was hushed as he edged closer to you, the deep baritone sending a shiver up your spine. “Y’don’t have t’tell me now,” his voice was so low as he spoke. “But you will tell me who, eventually.”

“John, I–”

He was always so gentle with you. But right now, the intense hatred for whoever this bastard was that harmed you, took over. He shook his head and clicked his tongue. “Don’t wanna hear it, doll. You will tell me who did this to you if it’s the last thing I get out of you.”

A wave of heat crossed your cheeks, his eyes boring into yours. You nodded meekly and his face softened. “Com’ere,” he cooed, opening his arms. You stepped into them and were immediately surrounded in the warm comfort Price brought you, one hand rubbing circles on your back and the other sliding up into your hair, tucking your head under his chin. 

“S’your not mad at me, anymore?” Your words muffled by his body. 

You felt his chest rumble as he spoke. “Could never stay mad at you.”

Soap

“Blood hell,” Soap whined, annoyed with you for hiding the arm wound you got the other day. 

“It’s not as serious as it looks,” you tried to convince him, your lips quirking into a weak smile. 

He closed his eyes to collect his last remaining patience. “Not serious—” he repeated, his words rising in several octaves as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’ve got twenty stitches in your arm! How the fuck is that not serious?!” 

He reached for your arm and you pulled it away, shuddering briefly from the brief touch of his fingertips. The two of you froze, his eyes darting to meet yours the second he saw the shift in your composure. 

“Gonna tell me why y’just did that?” He sat still in his seat, trying to steady his voice. 

“Did what?” You asked, attempting to play dumb, but the tears were already misting in your eyes. 

Soap sighed, his face dropping as he studied you. “Fuckin’ hell,” he said with displeasure. “You shoulda told me. I wouldn’t have—I woulda been more—” He lost his words, watching as a few stray tears fell down your cheeks. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” he said softly. His thumb came up to wipe the tears away, his hand then cupping the side of your cheek. “S’okay. M’not mad.” You leaned into his hand.. “Jus’ wish ya woulda told me.” You nodded and he gave you a weak smile. 

“Com’on, let’s get that bandage changed.” His voice was gentle as he coaxed you up, wrapping an arm protectively around you as he led you down to the infirmary. You would discuss this later. Right now, all he wanted was to make sure you felt safe in his arms.

Gaz

Gaz wouldn’t say he had anger issues… he just got passionate about the people he cared about, and sometimes that would come out in spurts of angry shouts. What he didn’t expect, was the way you reacted the first time he ever lost his cool in front of you. 

“I cannot fuckin’ believe Shepherd,” he growled. 

“Maybe we should just focus on the positive,” you said meekly, trying to help calm Gaz down.  

“Yeah? And what fuckin’ positive is that?!” He shouted as he paced back and forth. He regretted it the moment it left his lips. 

You squeezed your eyes shut at his words and brought your hands up for the briefest of seconds to cover your face. 

Gaz whispered your name and you instantly tried to compose yourself. You straightened and gave an awkward smile.

“That wasn’t at you,” he corrected, his eyes deflating as he watched you. “I-I’m sorry. I’d never hurt you,” he said wistfully, running his hand over his hair and cursing. He looked at you completely differently than he had just moments earlier. His entire demeanor shifted. He was suddenly staring at you with such intensity it made something well in your eyes. 

“No, Gaz. It’s not you.” That was the last sentence you could get out before the tears escaped. You quickly wiped them away and Gaz stepped towards you, resting both hands on either one of your shoulders. 

“Hey,” he said calmly. 

You gave him a sideways smile. “It’s just…” you tried to get the words out but they slipped away.

“S’alright. You don’t have to tell me.” His hands slid down your arms, giving you a squeeze before releasing you. “You know I’d never hurt you, right?”

You gave a small laugh. “I know that, Gaz.”

“Good.” He pulled you into his chest without asking, all his anger from earlier transforming into gentleness. “You can tell me when you’re ready,” he said into your hair. 

You nodded. “Thank you.” He held you a bit tighter and you closed your eyes in peace. You never wanted him to let go. 

König

He was frustrated with the way you were angry at him for insisting he do this mission alone. “You’re gonna get yourself killed!” You argued.

He had enough. He didn’t lose his temper often, but there was no way Konig was allowing you to come on a mission quite this dangerous. He pushed up from his chair, the table in front of him shaking as he did. 

He was a big guy, and you knew that, but the way he quickly took up the space of the room amazed you. “Verfickte Hurerei!” Fucking hell! he shouted. “Why are you pressing this so hard?!” He gestured towards you, his fists clenched and you winced. You cowered away, surprising even yourself with your actions. 

Konig watched you through his rapid blinking, dumbfounded by what just happened. It took him a second to process.

“Liebling?” He asked his voice back to its usual tone. “I wasn’t going to— fuck . I’m sorry.” A pang of guilt coursed through him. You thought he was going to hit you? Jesus Christ. He wanted to reach out to you but he refrained, knowing that might make things worse. 

“Konig,” you whispered and his eyes snapped to yours. He tilted his head, studying you as you regained your composure. “S’not you.” Your words were so faint it hurt his heart a little. 

He watched as you wiped away a stray tear. Your body had shifted back to how things used to be. Before Konig. 

Your lip quivered and you felt so small and embarrassed. Konig mouthed your name breathlessly and you blinked away tears before closing the distance between the two of you. You practically fell into his arms and he tightened them on you instinctively. 

“You okay, liebling?” He cooed, his hand stroking your hair. 

You nodded. “M’sorry.”

He pulled back so you had to tilt your chin and look up at him. “Don’t apologize.” His hand came up and stroked your cheek. 

“It’s not you,” you tried to reassure again, worried Konig was going to eat himself alive thinking you were afraid of him. 

“I know.” Your lips pinched together and Konig pulled you back into him. “You’re safe. You’ll always be safe with me.”

You felt tears fall; not out of terrible memories, but out of the love you felt radiating off of Konig. 

Alejandro

“Jesus, would you just listen to me?” You shouted. 

“Listen to you?! You haven’t heard a fucking thing I’ve been saying!” He yelled back. His accent was always heavier on his words when he was mad. 

He took a big step towards you, his knife still in his hand, covered in blood. You flinched when he approached so suddenly. His dark words and his fast movements made you duck in fear. 

Alejandro paused all his movements, startled by your reaction. “Jesus,” he mumbled, sheathing his knife and holding his hands up. “I wouldn’t hurt you, mi amor.” He shook his head in frustration with himself. His jaw clenched as he watched you look back up at him. How awful he felt seeing your beautiful features shrouded in fear. 

“I…” you swallowed hard. “I’m sorry. The yelling… I don’t know. It just made me think back to…”

Something inside Alejandro shifted at your faint words. “Mataré a ese bastardo,” I’ll kill that bastard , he growled. “Who was it? Who fuckin’ touched you?” 

You shook your head. “Alejandro, please. It was so long ago.”

He clenched his fist, his other hand coming up to the scruff on his jaw. He closed his eyes to try and contain himself. When he opened them, you could still see the darkness lingering behind them. “I don’t care how long ago it was, mi amor. I need you to tell me who it was.”

You frowned and he closed his eyes again before walking up to you and pulling you into his arms. “God. I swear I’ll fuckin’ kill him.”

You let out the softest of giggles at how dramatic he could be. But still, you felt so safe knowing he would go to the ends of the world to protect you. You felt him kiss the top of your head, mumbling something about being sorry for yelling. 

[iammissingautumn]

tbh the thing for me now, as i love new people in new ways air gets solidified. I may feel new things but i will not feel like how i once had again. i will not feel genuine piece like i did when i handed them my writing. i will not be able to send songs to people like that again. and maybe i can and the barrier is mental or just needs the right time for the other person. but i have no clue what that feeling is. i have no clue what made that feel so Right.

[reidsfilm]

SPOILED ROTTEN — MIGUEL O'HARA

divider credit: cafekitsune. art of Miguel credit: _insomniac_red_

PARING: miguel o'hara x fem reader

WARNINGS: SMUT!! (18+) porn with a little plot, p in v (wrap it before you tap it folks) dirty talk, swearing, fingering, blowjob, pet names; mi corazon, bebita, mi amor, baby, etc. age gap (miguel is in his early thirties, while the reader is in her early twenties)

SUMMARY Miguel takes you out to celebrate your birthday. A catfight occurs between you and a woman, who thinks you are nothing more than Miguel's trophy wife. Miguel shows you you're much more than that.

WORD COUNT : 6,5k

Notes: English is not my first language, so bear with me. There might be spelling mistakes here and there. Still not over this man after watching ATSV last year. This is probably super messy because I honestly lost track of what I was writing.

Miguel and you were going out to a party to celebrate your birthday. You had dolled yourself up with a black bodycon dress that fit snugly to your slim yet toned body. You wore a pair of black stiletto heels. Miguel had surprised you with a beautiful silver necklace with an 'M' engraved in it, for the initial of his name.

Miguel was your sweet and caring mafia husband. You had known him for around a year now, and he was a couple of years older than you— well over a decade older. ''Do I look good?'' You questioned softly as you did a quick spin, letting out a soft giggle.

A low chuckle escaped Miguel as he pulled your face against his to kiss you softly. He ran a hand up your thigh teasingly before you both walked out the door.

“You look stunning mi corazon, now let’s get a move on before I decide to take you back inside and give you an early birthday present.” You felt your cheeks flush at his words.

Miguel opened the car door for you, smiling that charming smile that made you lose your thoughts. You got in and Miguel followed suit as he settled in next to you in the backseat. ''Thank you for this, by the way. I love it.'' You muttered as you touched the necklace, looking at him with a soft smile.

Miguel's hand placed itself on your thigh, giving a soft squeeze. ''Anything for my beautiful girl. Happy birthday.'' He muttered before pulling you in for a sweet kiss.

When the two of you arrived, there were already a few others there. The place was huge, a mansion that could probably fit in at least a couple of hundred people. Miguel always knew the right places to take you, which wasn't odd: considering he was a mafia boss who had quite the list of contacts, for various things. People flooded in through the large doors, music playing.

Your eyes scanned around the place as you stepped inside, seeing people dressed in fancy attires, which probably cost a fortune

Beautiful women in gorgeous dresses, and men in elegant suits.

''I think I picked a dress that was too short...'' You mumbled, making Miguel chuckle as he leaned down to whisper in your ear, ''Should've picked something even shorter. Give everyone a little show with that pretty little ass of yours.

Your eyes widened as you turned your head, meeting his dark eyes, ''Miguel!'' You exclaimed with a small huff. Miguel smirked as he watched you try and keep yourself presentable.

He took a hold of your hand and kissed your knuckles, grinning. “I have to go say hi to an old friend. Make yourself comfortable.” You hummed at his words, before watching Miguel start to head towards the back of the estate.

You're eyes landed on the small bar by the corner, and you headed over as you were in desperate need of a drink. Miguel's earlier words had made something stir in the pit of your stomach.

''One martini, please.'' You said to the bartender, who nodded while you patiently leaned against the bar counter. You tapped absentmindedly on the wooden surface.

“Hey, sweetie. Why are you standing here all by yourself?” A womanly voice made your head turn, a brunette wearing a gorgeous red maxi dress. Her lips were painted red, matching her dress.

She was beautiful.

She held her own martini in her hand, eying you.

''Just waiting for my drink and my husband,'' You replied back with an awkward smile as your gaze wandered around.

You were never good around huge crowds of people, especially so many gorgeous-looking people that were scattered around the place. Made you feel slightly out of place. You'd been with Miguel for a year, but you were still not used to all this prestige stuff: the riches and all its glory.

“Ohh a husband, huh?” Her eyes narrowed as she looked you up and down. You could tell what she was thinking. Typical gold digger.

“What’s his name?” She asked, the corners of her red lips curving into a smirk. You shifted a little, feeling slightly nervous as she stared at you, almost like she was trying to make you feel small.

''Miguel...'' You replied back nonchalantly as you shifted a bit on your feet, your heels making a clinking noise against the marble floors. You watched as a few men were standing around a couple of strippers who were dancing. Their moves were gracious and alluring: you wished you could dance like that.

“Miguel? Don’t tell me you married the Miguel?” She tilted her head, smirking. It almost sounded like she was shocked by your words. “You’re very lucky, you know that?” Her eyes seemed a tad resentful and jealous at the same time.

''Mhm..'' You simply hummed as you ignored her presence beside you, your eyes continuing to wander around the area as you rubbed your bare arm— a nervous habit you'd have, but you supposed a lot of people did certain things when they were nervous or anxious.

''Here's your drink, miss.'' The bartender's voice broke you out of your little daze as you turned back, ''Thank you.'' You muttered before taking the martini in your hand and taking a sip.

“That man is so fine, I wouldn’t mind getting my hands on him and showing him a good time.” The woman scoffed, laughing to herself. As if she’d even have a chance.

“He must make quite a living, right?” She questioned though it sounded more like a statement than a question. Of course, he did, Miguel was the epitome of money and wealth. But he didn't let it get to his head, which you found endearing.

''And?'' You turned your head to face her, raising an eyebrow.

What was she trying to accomplish?

She huffed, rolling her eyes. “You’re a gold digger. We all know it.” She smirked at her own comment, crossing her arms under her breasts. “You’re obviously only with him because he’s rich.”

Who was we? She had never seen this woman nor any of the other people her in her entire life. So who was she to judge you?

You placed the drink by the counter

''Obviously.'' You mocked back as you rolled your eyes, mimicking her posture as you crossed your arms under your breasts, feeling them push up against the material of your dress.

You loved Miguel, with all your heart and soul. And you couldn't give a flying fuck if he was rich or not, it never mattered to you. All that mattered to you was him. You remember how frightened you were of him when you first met him, and weeks into your marriage you still were. It was an arranged marriage after all. And you hadn't actually wanted to be married, well you did, but on your own terms.

At first, you found him to be an arrogant prick who had a silver spoon shoved so far up his ass. But after a while, you saw a softer side of the man, behind that rough and stoic demeanor. You grew to care and love for the man.

“Hah, well at least you admit it finally.” She groaned, smirking. “You’re pathetic, you know that?” She laughed lightly, looking down at your dress.

“You got the dress to match his money too? Or were you going for a bit of slut in there somewhere?” The comment had caught you off guard, her laugh was a bit too loud for comfort.

This bitch.

You felt your jaw clench as you stared her down. ''Listen here, you perky little bitch. If your goal here is to try and have your pretty little lips wrapped around my husband's cock, you'll have to try better.''You snarled at her as you narrowed your eyes.

“Awe! Aren’t you a feisty one? Come on, you just can’t get enough of the rich and famous, yeah? Just looking for someone to fund your every need and want.”

“You want my advice?” She asked, her demeanor suddenly sweet and bubbly again as she took a step closer “It’s better if you start talking to the strippers here. You and they have more in common than you do me or any of the other women here.” She sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes, waiting for a reaction from you.

Who the hell was she to talk to me like this?

You flinched at her words, taken aback by her blatant rude and berating words, ''Excuse me? How dare you speak to me like that.''

''Damn, don’t get your panties in a twist sweetheart'' She chuckled, taking another step toward you, your faces close. “I know someone as pretty and as young as you has to struggle. Do you not have food to eat at home? Does Daddy not care for you anymore and leave you alone? Is that it little girl?”

That was the tip of the iceberg.

You harshly slapped her across the cheek, sizing her up. ''Don't ever speak to me like that again.'' You spat as you stepped back from her. A few people in the room looked over at the scene, eyes glued as we stared each other down. The woman stood there for a moment, her hand slowly traveling to her cheek before her eyebrows furrowed in anger.

The woman’s face turned bright red, both from embarrassment and rage. She took a few steps towards you, the people surrounding you clearing out quickly, knowing exactly what a heated exchange between the two of you would turn into.

Miguel was nowhere to be seen and that only worried you a little. She pulled herself closer, her words sounding like fire on the tip of her tongue.

''That was a mistake. A huge one. You’re lucky my father taught me restraint'' She hissed, her face almost touching yours, making her teeth and breath seem closer.

''Yeah? Did he now? I don't think he taught his little girl any manners.'' You seethed as you pushed her back, making her stumble against the bar on the side.

The woman stumbled, her dress rising a little more to reveal more of her skin. Her face turned a deeper red due to both the embarrassment and the heat of the situation.

“I can buy you.” She threatened, reaching out a hand, and grabbing your wrist.

“And it wouldn’t take me even a quarter of the money my father has in his back pocket.” She snarled, her grip tightening on your wrist as she squeezed it tightly.

You groaned from the intense pain of having her hand around your wrist, squeezing it. Your mouth was set into a hard line as you stared at the woman before you. ''Let go!'' You snarled as you tried yanking your wrist free. You could stand your own ground, always had. But you knew well enough that Miguel would be furious by this, but it wouldn't be directed towards you.

“Nope.” She chuckled, tightening her grip on your wrist before leaning closer, her nose almost brushing against yours.

“Your just a little bitch.” She hissed, her hand moving to your other wrist as she held both tightly. You let out a soft cry, feeling her grip tighten around your wrist, and would most likely leave faint marks.

“You want to talk about your ‘husband’ Miguel? I’ll take him from you in a heartbeat.” You let out a scoff at her words, making her eyebrows furrow a little, ''You think he wants you? A dried up fucking wrinkly bitch like you?'' You seethed as a mocking smile formed on your face.

She let go of one of your wrists, raising her hand up, about to smack the shit out of you...That's when you heard the loud and firm sound of your husband's voice.

Miguel was now standing there, his broad shoulders towering above the two of you, his face cold with anger. His eyes narrowed at the woman, his mouth set into a hard frown.

“Don't.” He didn’t ask, his tone firm and cold with a slight growl in the back of his throat.

The woman huffed as she dropped her hand, finally letting go of your wrist, but not before turning to you and rolling her eyes. You looked down at your wrists, noticing how they had turned all red and irritated from the grip the woman had on them. You rubbed them, trying to ease the pain. ''Bitch...'' You muttered in a low tone.

''I can see you’re an uneducated little whore who can’t help herself,'' she sneered, her face turning a deeper red as she looked at Miguel. “Oh, did I hit a nerve? Sorry, handsome.''

Miguel rolled his eyes, his hand slowly traveling down to your back while he spoke. “Apologize to my wife.” His tone was still cold and sharp.

You gazed around the area, noticing how everyone was looking at you. This was supposed to be a fun and delightful birthday for you, and yet it had turned into full-on chaos the minute you arrived here.

Your gaze went back to the woman, narrowing your eyes at her. Just the mere thought of this whore trying to get her little mouth anywhere near Miguel's cock, was making you angry.

''I said apologize'' Miguel’s voice turned a lot grittier, the woman noticing how his eyes looked like they were filled with actual hatred towards her.

The woman scoffed, rolling her eyes. “She’s barely your wife!” She hissed, before looking at you.

“How could you even get married to the son of the big boss? You’re not good enough for him, are you?”

Your lips curled up into a smug smirk, ''Is that so? Are you sure you aren't jealous that Miguel's big cock is buried deep inside me every single night, and not inside you?'' You snickered at her, putting on a mocking pout as you stared at her.

''Bebita...'' Miguel warned lowly, despite it he found your words sexy as you put the woman in her place. It made pride stir within him.

You knew she was extremely jealous that you got to have sex with Miguel whenever you wanted and this cheap whore would never even get a glance of his body naked.

You also knew despite your slightly unruly long hair, that you looked so fucking sexy while you were putting this woman in her place.

''Go along. I'm sure your mouth has a better use elsewhere.'' You made a 'shoo' motion with your hand.

The woman’s eyes lit up with rage, and she took a step forward, her face only inches away from yours as Miguel kept his hand on your lower back.

You were both staring each other right in the eyes as her lips started to curl into a small grin and then they widened into a big smile as she laughed.

''I’d gladly take your place. In the bedroom. And I know he’d enjoy it.'' She turned her head to look at Miguel, who was watching the whole scene with a stoic expression.

''Yes, I'm sure he'd very much enjoy someone as loose as you,'' You replied back mockingly.

“At least I’d keep his cock satisfied for more than five seconds,” she chuckled.

''Enough,'' Miguel said, before he sighed, turning to you as he looked at you with concerned eyes. He was always so careful of you, always making sure that you were okay. But he couldn’t stand hearing someone talk to you in such a vile way.

''Come. Outside with me.'' He asked softly, gently taking your hand as he started to walk away. You stared back over your shoulder at the woman with a smirk as you walked away with Miguel. Your stiletto heels made click-clack noises against the floor.

Miguel held your hand as you walked outside with him, the two of you stopping a few meters away from the estate as he sighed and leaned against a tree. He looked at you with concern in his eyes, his lips parting to speak before he shook his head and looked down at the ground.

He chuckled awkwardly, running his free hand through his hair as he let out a sigh. “Let’s forget about that woman back inside, eh, mi amor?”

''Forget who?'' You replied back with a smile on your lips. You snaked your arms around his strong waist.

Miguel huffed, turning his head to look down at you as your lips brushed against his chin.

''That woman was a complete bitch to you.'' His voice sounded almost worried as he looked at you.

He smirked, his own arms snaking around your waist and pulling you against his hard body. “Don’t you feel like you need some sort of revenge?”

''I've got my revenge, right here.'' You let out a soft giggle as you leaned up to press a soft kiss to his lips. And it was true; as that woman wanted nothing more than to spend a night with Miguel, if not more. Your sweet revenge was the fact that he was all yours.

''Hm, true.'' He chuckled, his hand slipping down your back to your hips as the kiss lengthened and you two stayed there under the moonlight together.

His free hand held the hem of your dress, gently lifting it to reveal more and more leg as his eyes locked onto yours.

A soft kiss on your cheek as he looked back at you. “My naughty, naughty wife…”

''You're the one trying to take my dress off, right here in the open.'' You chuckled softly as you stared up at him. ''Plus, I'm not wearing any panties,'' You whispered, your tone sultry.

“How scandalous.”

Miguel continued to look at you as his hand continued to travel up your thigh, moving ever so gently. His voice was now a lot lower with lust in it yet it was full of playful sarcasm.

''Maybe I’ll just have to bend you over this tree and show you how naughty your husband thinks you are.''

''Yeah?'' You looked up at him as you slotted your bottom lip between your teeth.

God... you wanted nothing more than him to stuff his thick cock inside you, right here. You stared up at him with doe eyes, an almost pleading look in them. ''I want it. Please.'' One hand slipped from around his neck and down towards his crotch, palming his cock through his dress pants, making him let out a soft groan as you simply stared up at him with an innocent look.

He was already so hard, the little brawl inside and the way you had put that woman in her place had made him extremely horny, but there was nowhere that was far enough away from the estate to get some privacy. Not with guests still arriving.

His eyes locked onto you as he tried fighting back his urges, his breathing steady as he spoke. “Wait til we get home. Don’t torture me like this, mi corazon.”

''Then take me home, show me how good you can fuck me.'' You purred and that's all it took for him, ''Anything for the birthday girl.'' He said before quickly hauling you up into his arms, making you squeal as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

''You were so sexy back there,'' Miguel muttered as he carried you through the large lawn. His words make a cheeky smile form on your lips, ''Yeah? Made you all *hard*, hm?''

''You have no idea.''

You sat in the car next to Miguel, staring out of the window as you passed by different cars and buildings and such. You fiddled with your hands as you thought back to what that woman had said about you.

Gold digger.

Sure, you stood your ground and wouldn't take any bullshit from anyone, yet the words she had said had stung. And it had made your head spiral. You turned to look at Miguel, ''Baby...'' His head turned and his dark brown eyes met your own eyes.

''Si? What is it, mi amor?'' He questioned as he placed his hand on your thigh, giving it a soft squeeze. ''You don't think I'm a gold digger right?'' You mumbled as you looked at him, and his eyebrows furrowed, confused by your words.

''What? Why would you say something like that? No, no of course I don't think you're a gold digger, bebita.'' He reached up to place his hand against your cheek, rubbing his thumb over your cheekbone.

''It's just... the woman—'' He cut you off, placing his finger over your lips to silence you. ''Don't listen to whatever that vile woman said. You're anything but.'' He reassured as his eyes softened, ''I know you love me, and I love you. No one's going to come in between that, okay?''

You nodded as he spoke, ''I know.'' Miguel didn't seem fully convinced that you believed his words, and he took your hand in his, placing it against his chest. You felt his heart going thump thump against the palm of your hand, as his own hand rested over yours.

''My heart beats for you, and you only.'' His words were reassuring and so gentle and sweet, and you knew that you had the best husband in the whole wide world.

''So does mine.''

The car stopped outside your shared mansion and Miguel gave you a soft kiss on the forehead before stepping out. He reached his hand out for you to take, and you gladly did before letting out a soft gasp as Miguel hauled you up into his arms.

''Miggy!'' You exclaimed as you wrapped your arms around his neck, looking at him with wide eyes. ''My beautiful bebita is not walking a single step.'' He smirked as he looked down at you, though his dark brown eyes softened the more he looked at your face.

''You're making me feel like a queen today.'' You muttered as Miguel carried you into the house, ''Just do today? I thought I always made you feel like a queen.'' His playful jab at you made you roll your eyes.

''You always make me feel like a queen.'' You corrected yourself and Miguel looked at you with a prideful smile. He carried you up the large stairwell before walking down the hallway to your shared bedroom.

''I have one more present for you.'' He said as he placed you down on the large king-sized bed, making your eyebrows furrow, ''Miggy, you already gave me this beautiful necklace. I don't need anything more from you, I just need you.'' Your words were soft and sincere as you looked at him.

Miguel let out a small chuckle as he bent down to give you're cheek a kiss, then the other, before his lips met yours, ''You deserve everything there is in the world. Mi precioso.'' You're stomach fluttered at his words as he pulled away from your lips.

''Stay right here, I'm gonna go and get it,'' Miguel said, his words sweet yet commanding at the same time. So you sat there and waited as he headed out of the bedroom. You took off your heels in the meantime, and oh did it feel good to get them off.

What had he gotten you?

Miguel came back after a few minutes, and your head perked up as he stepped back into the bedroom, with a glittery black box in his hands. You shifted a little on the bed, watching as Miguel crouched down in front of you, before extending his hands towards you, presenting it to you.

''Happy birthday, mi amor.'' Miguel said with a wide smile on his lips as you took the box from his hands, ''Thank you, baby.'' You muttered softly before you opened the lid of the box, settling it next to you on the bed. You removed the black tissue paper sheets, and your eyes widened at the sight.

You plucked out what was in the box, ''Miguel...'' You started at the pretty black lacy two-piece set of lingering, it was pretty yet so sexy as well. ''I love it!'' You exclaimed as you turned to look at him and he chuckled at how happy you seemed by it; just how he hoped you'd be.

Miguel leaned up to brush some hair away from your face, before leaning in to whisper in your ear, ''I want you to wear that when I fuck you.’’ His words sent chills down your spine, making you shudder.

''Put it on bebita.'' Miguel placed a soft kiss below your ear before pulling back and getting back up on his feet. ''Okay, I'll be right back.'' You mumbled before taking the two-piece set with you and heading into the bathroom.

The thought of Miguel having bought you a present, and fuck you senseless with it on made heat pool between your legs. You slipped the straps of the dress off of your shoulders, reaching to your back to drag the zipper down. You shimmied out of it, letting it pool to the floor.

You gazed at yourself in the mirror, taking in your flushed cheeks and pink lips; you look disheveled and you hadn't even been fucked yet.

''You almost done? I can barely wait.'' You heard Miguel's voice outside the bathroom door, ''Give me a minute.''

You slipped on the new set, taking yet another glance at yourself in the mirror. The lingering set fits snugly on your body, showing off your curves in just the right way.

Damn, I looked fucking hot.

You took a deep breath before opening the bathroom door and stepping out. Miguel was seated on the bed, having slipped off his tie, and opened a few of the buttons on his tight-fitted black dress shirt. The man was the epitome of sexiness. His eyes landed on you as you stepped out, and you caught his dark brown eyes looking even darker as he stared at you.

''Fuck, look at you.'' He purred as his eyes raked over your body, his tongue coming out to lick over his bottom lip. It was like he was devouring you by just looking at you, and that alone made you sure that you looked amazing in the lingering.

''You like it?'' You questioned as you did a quick twirl, making Miguel let out a small growl. ''Do I like it?'' He said as he got up from the bed, walking over to you. His larger and taller frame loomed over you, almost enveloping you.

''I fucking love it. God, you look so good.'' He placed his hands on your hips, his hands squeezing at the flesh. ''Could practically eat you up.'' He said gruffly as he stared down at you.

You looked up at him, ''You've been so sweet to me. Let me repay you, baby.'' You didn't let him respond as you sunk down to your knees in front of him, with doe eyes as you grabbed onto his belt buckle. Your eyes were locked onto his as you unbuckled his belt, and undid the zipper of his pants.

You licked at your lips, ''Can I?'' You questioned in such a soft and innocent tone.

“You can have anything you want,” He muttered, trying to remain calm for your sake if you were even aware of what you were doing to him.

You bit down on your bottom lip as you dragged down his pants along with his boxer briefs, letting them pool at his ankles. Your mouth was salivating at the sight before you. His cook stood tall, practically begging to be worshipped. ''Have you been this hard since the party?'' You questioned softly, your eyes gleaming as they flitted up to meet his own dark brown ones.

''Ever since you put on that pretty little dress of yours'' Miguel placed his hand underneath her chin, pulling your chin up slightly.

''Gonna take me like a good girl, hm?'' His body began to quiver at the thought of you taking all of him down your throat. He felt almost powerless with the way you looked up at him.

'Yes.'' You purred as you looked up at him. He traced his long digit over your bottom lip, before tucking it slowly into your mouth. You stared up at him with blown-out eyes, your cheeks a rosy hue as you began to suck at his finger. The whole scene was sensual and so erotic.

The act itself made Miguel's cock twitch with anticipation and need. His tip leaking with pre-cum. “Just as eager as I thought you’d be.” He muttered as he watched you.

''Always eager to take anything you give me, papi,'' You muttered softly as he slid his finger out of your mouth with a pop. He traced his wet finger over your swollen lips, making you whine softly. ''Need you to fill my mouth up,'' You whined once more, eagerly shuffling closer to his cock.

You looked perfect, on your knees, your lips parted, and looking up at him.

''Need to make you feel good. Been taking care of me so well.'' You purred softly before you wrapped your delicate small hand around his shaft and inched it closer to your mouth. You stared up at him as you wrapped your lips around him, taking all of him in.

You let out a small gag sound as he hit the back of your throat, saliva trickling down the side of your mouth and down her chin. You pulled him out of your mouth, letting out a small cough. It certainly had been a while since you'd done this.

''Sorry.''' You mumbled sheepisly.

His hand caressed the back of your head, as his breathing grew heavier. “S’okay, you’re…you’re doing fine.” He panted out, fighting back the urge to not just take what he wanted, the urge to push you down further on his cock.

''Go slow, bebita. No need to strain yourself.''

You licked at your lips, taking a deep breath as you took him back into your mouth. The sound of gurgling and gagging bounced off the walls, as well as Miguel's groans and growls as you continued to suck him off.

He held the back of your head, gripping onto your hair as he guided your head up and down on him. ''So good for me. Taking my cock like the good girl you are.'' His words only spurred you on, making her moan as you sucked on him, tongue swirling against his cock.

Your eyes started to tear up as you steadied your hands on his thighs. Miguel's praises were going straight to your core; making you even more wet than you already was, if that was possible.

A few of his grunts and groans escaped his mouth, the sounds were loud and evident, and he couldn’t do anything but grip your hair harder. It felt good.

''Keep going... feels so good... yeah that's it,'' Miguel growled as he pushed your head further down on him, feeling him hitting the back of your throat continuously. ''Fuck... gonna cum.'' Miguel's head tilted back as his hips pushed against your mouth before he let out a guttural moan as he came. His body shuddering as his hand in your hair felt almost painful but pleasurable at the same time.

You swallowed the salty substance before taking his cock out of your mouth with a pop.

You stared up at him with glossy eyes, her cheeks a red hue and your skin covered in a thin layer of sweat. Miguel was panting and coming down from his climax. ''Did I do good?'' You questioned softly, as you licked over your lips.

Miguel opened his eyes slowly, looking down at you, his lips curling into a small smile. He brushed away a stray piece of hair from your face.

“Mi amor, you did more than good,” He muttered, before tucking his cock back into his pants.

Miguel helped you up from the floor, your legs a little wobbly and your knees feeling a little bruised due to having them pressed onto the hard floor. ''You always taste so good when you come in my mouth,'' You muttered softly. Miguel pulled her into a soft kiss, cradling the back of your head as you whined into his mouth.

Miguel pulled away from her swollen lips, before bending down a little to reach out to the back of your knees, hauling you over his shoulder like you were a sack of potatoes. A soft giggle escaped your lips as he carried you over to the bed.

You let out a small oof as you landed on the soft mattress of your king-sized bed. You shuffled closer to the pillows, letting out a soft sigh as you snuggled up to them.

Miguel lifted and unbuttoned his shirt, exposing his tan and muscular upper body, before chucking it onto the floor. Miguel's eyes widened a little as you noticed a new scar on one of his shoulder blades. That wasn't there before.

You shuffled to the edge of the bed, settling yourself onto your knees. ''Did you get that one when you were away for the week?'' You questioned softly, your eyes locked on the scar on his shoulder blade. It was a nasty scar, and Miguel was a mafia boss. Of course, he indulged in dangerous things. It was a part of what he did.

A soft smile curled on his lips, but it grew tight with pain as he remembered where the scar came from. “Yeah…” He muttered, sitting on the edge of the bed to remove his sleek black shoes.

He let out a small sigh, his fingers tracing the scar as he listened to your soft voice. “Bullet wound. Took it on that last job.” He muttered, sounding distant, the scar was still fresh, and he was still learning to cope with the reminder of their failed operation.

You moved closer to him, settling yourself behind him, your arms wrapping around him. You leaned down to place a soft kiss on the scar, humming softly. ''Did you at least get the fucker who gave you that?'' You placed your chin on his shoulder, tilting your head a little to meet his eyes.

“Yeah,” Miguel mumbled, taking a deep breath before he spoke again. “Beat the information out of him.”

A hand came up to cup the back of your head, his fingers threading themselves through your hair.

''Damn... didn't know my husband could resort to such violence. It's sexy.'' You purred as you leaned into to kiss his cheek, before pulling away and falling back against the bed with a soft giggle.

Miguel chuckled at your words, before standing up and removing his pants, leaving him in his black boxer briefs, before stepping back over to the bed and sliding in beside you. His chest pressed up against your back, as he moved some hair away from your neck before leaning down to place wet kisses against your neck.

You hummed softly as he pressed himself more up against you, feeling his hardening cock press against the material of your underwear. ''Mhmm.... Miguel.'' You mumbled as you closed your eyes, relishing in the feeling of his lips on your neck, and his cock pressing up against the globes of your ass.

His hand snaked around your waist, skimming down to the waistband of your underwear, before slipping inside. You instinctively spread your legs a little, giving him more room to explore. His fingers found your clit, dragging two of his digits through your soaked slit. ''So wet for me, hm?'' He crooned into your ear and you only whined in response, your back pressing up against his chest.

''You like that, mi corazon?'' He asked, mumbling against your neck. You nodded, as you spread your legs wider for him. Miguel stopped, as he grabbed your jaw with his free hand and made you look at him. ''Use your words.''

''Yes, I do...'' You said softly, almost like you were embarrassed. Miguel couldn't help but smile as he went back to circling his fingers over her clit. Your soft little whimpers drove him wild, and he wanted to hear more. He slid one finger inside you, pulling back to watch your face. You bit your lip and closed your eyes, and the sight drove him feral.

''Mierda, you're beautiful,'' Miguel said, pushing his finger a little deeper inside of you, curling it. After a while, your moans were growing louder as he added another finger. Your hand grabbed at his wrist, but he kept going, going faster. Your back arched against him,, and your moans reached a higher pitch.

''You're doing so well for me.'' He whispered, nipping at your neck. ''You're such a good slut for me, hm?''

''Yes... oh god.... please don't stop.'' You replied, your legs closing up around his hand as the pleasure built. Miguel nudged you to open with his free hand, holding onto your inner thigh as he watched your face contort in pleasure.

''Be a good girl and come all over my fingers. So I can lick it all up after.'' Miguel purred as he continued to thrust two of his fingers up into you, feeling his curl and twist his wrist, hitting that spongy spot.

''Miggy... gonna come.'' You whined as you arched into his chest once more. ''Not yet, need to fill this pussy up with my cock first.'' He muttered into your ear, voice sultry and sexy. Miguel removed his fingers from your aching pussy, making you whine at the loss of contact. Your head tilted a little to the side, seeing him slip his two fingers into his mouth, tasting your essence. The sight made you bite your lip.

Miguel took out his hardening cock from his boxers, before nudging the head between her folds, coating it in her slickness. ''You ready?'' He questioned and you hummed in response, ''Yes, please. I need it, need you.'' Miguel didn't need any more confirmation than that, as he slowly nudge the head of his cock into your tight and wet hole.

Your hand gripped around the bed sheets, head tilting back against his chest as he slid into you, slowly. ''Fuck you're tight, bebita.'' Miguel groaned as he pushed in further, feeling your walls clamping around him, squeezing him.

His hand snaked around your waist, holding onto you as he let you adjust to him before slowly rutting his hips against you. Your hand wrapped around his arm that laid around your waist, nails digging into his skin. ''So good... faster,'' Miguel growled at your words as he started quickening his pace, his balls slapping against your ass as he slid in and out of you.

''This pussy was made for me. Just me.'' Miguel said as his breathing quickened, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling up the room. ''Just you.'' You echoed back as you felt yourself reaching your climax. Miguel could feel it too as you squeezed around him.

''You close?'' He rasped into your ear, ''Yeah... close.''

Miguel almost slid out of you before slamming back in, making you jolt as a wanton moan slipped from your lips. ''Then cum, want you cumming all over my cock. Milk me dry, bebita.'' And that's all it took before the coil in your stomach snapped and your orgasm washed over you, nails digging harder into the flesh of Miguel's arm.

Your buddy shuddered and twitched as your vision went white for a second, feeling your body slowly come down from the high. ''That's it, good girl.'' Miguel cooed as he continued to thrust into you, reaching for his own release.

And he wasn't far behind before he emptied himself inside you with a growl, painting your walls white. Your chest heaved up and down as Miguel slipped his cock out of you, feeling his cum dripping out from you and down your inner thigh. Miguel reached his hand down between your thighs, collecting your cum and his before pushing two of his digits inside, making you whine at how sensitive you were.

He leaned over and grabbed your chin, turning your face to meet his as he pulled you into a searing kiss. Your hand came up to the side of his face, slipping up into his dark luscious locks as you hummed against his lips.

He pulled away, putting both hands on your cheeks as he cradled your face in his hands, ''Happy birthday, mi corazon.''

[kamesama]

Hiii, I have a request! Ok so hear me out, what if Sukuna finds another woman and replace reader. make it as angsty as possible with a happy ending pretty please with a cherry on top🥹

you have no idea how excited i got when i read this, and then i got disappointed when i ( after my 3rd time reading the request ) noticed you said a happy ending. BUT SINCE IT HAS A CHERRY ON TOP, i will oblige. i would have made this worse if it wasn't for the happy ending.

— favourite: ryōmen sukuna.

— notes + warnings: *cracks knuckles* utter, sheer, disgusting sensation of feeling replaced; jealousy; mentions of self-loathing; mentions of intimacy/intercourse ( sukuna sleeping w/ another woman, etc ); implication of violence / cruel sukuna moment ( what do you expect? ); happy ending tho ( ? ); hurt/comfort ( ? ); unspecified but it's heian era / true-form! sukuna; concubine w/ an attitude! reader. — word count: 1224

oh, to be the apple of one’s eye — utterly adored, all-too-greatly desired, cherished beyond measure. irreplaceable.

oftentimes you felt like so, when sunken into the mattress for the sake of being ravished. when preyed on by an intense blood-hued gaze. when cradled almost gently upon the throne that was sukuna’s lap. 

but how foolish of you to think that you were the single person privileged to chant his name in ecstasy. how adorable of you to think that only your fingernails could claw down his back to leave incoherent trails of pleasure you always lost yourself in. how pathetic of you to think that it was solely your own luxury to occupy the spot upon his thighs. how audacious of you to think that your lips, and your lips alone, were entitled to the act of worshipping his skin; from the sharp angle of his jaw, down his beating pulse, across the expanse of his broad chest. how bold of you to think that your tongue was the single one capable of conjuring up tales that could tickle his fancy and shackle his interest and entertain his unpredictable whims. 

and so, you pondered. when another had come to occupy his chamber after dark, with her lush skin and silken hair and slender legs, you pondered, for what else could you possibly do, contained between the walls of your room? 

have you rotten already?

you’ve seen her march and stomp to his chamber, leaving an invisible trace of the scent so strong you could swear it still haunted your nostrils. her lips glistened in the candlelight as if coated with a thick layer of honey that she must have rubbed into her tongue and gums earlier that eve. she wore her eroticism proudly; the subtle arch of her mouth was an aphrodisiac of its own. 

the walls were always thin, but that night, they seemed thinner than ever. you could swear you’ve heard every gasp, every moan, every writhe. the curl of her toes, the grip of her slender digits at the sheets as her back arched in that wondrous curve. did his lips touch every inch of her body? from the saccharine spot on her neck to the delightful mounds on her chest? the thin skin of her hip; the lush softness of her thighs?

did his tongue utter praises of her performance, of her appearance, of her? did he claim her with nothing short of delight coursing through his accursed veins?

the sole thought made you so sullenly disappointed. your own bedding had never felt colder.

“you look miserable, woman. what is it with that attitude?” as blunt as ever, sukuna questioned, his knuckles sunken into his cheek as he watched you peel a pomegranate. despite the skillfulness faithfully coating your movements, your digits remained stained with the rich hue of the fruit’s insides; despite the effort to be flawless.

your lips pursed in response, a small sign of displeasure standing hand-in-hand with reluctance. perhaps you are acting coy — sukuna concluded — lacing your foul mood with a girlish act and bratty demeanour. not that it would render him surprised. rather, it tickled his curiosity, fueled his fantasy, and made him just a tidbit of something somewhat akin to concern.

“speak, princess,” he cooed, deciding to humour your wits with barely a mouthful of niceties. he leaned back in his seat, patting his lap with one of his hands, whilst one rested on the thigh of his other leg. the remaining two were crossed over his chest either out of boredom or superiority; or perhaps both. 

you wanted to disobey; to turn your head away with a huff as your fingertips dug into pomegranate seeds. to maintain your shred of pride, wearing your displeasure with a sense of dignity out of sole respect for all the umbrage and anguish lulling you to sleep on the nights when you weren’t worthy enough. 

but you didn’t.

almost too eagerly, you put away the fruit into a bowl to bleed, nearly crawling to his lap. despite the willingness of your body to nest so closely against his, however, your face remained with its little scowl, your eyes almost overfilled with chagrin. 

“am i not your favourite?” 

the audacity soaked your words, dripping heavily off them. sukuna sensed it; the thickness of envy in your voice, and all the more loathing that nearly looked like some deranged form of self-pity.

his slit brows rose up, his crimson gaze intense enough to have made you feel that — if he were to look just a little deeper into your eyes — he would see the way your hands massaged your own breasts as if to grasp whether or not they were shapely enough; the way you trailed one same line underneath your eye time and time again in an attempt to determine if sleeplessness has made you revolting.

“why should you desire another to warm your bed?”

a grin tugged at the corners of sukuna’s mouth as a sense of understanding weighed on his shoulders. a small hum of acknowledgement sounded from the top of his throat, his eyes closing as he took your stained hand and brought it up to his lips.

“so that’s what this is about,” he mused, his tongue shamelessly trailing across your digits to lap up the sour sweetness coating them, “jealousy is a pesky thing, little one.”

“i don’t care,” you scoffed, trying to ignore the way he gently sucked on the tip of your finger before looking at you, one of his hands absentmindedly caressing up your thigh through the silken material of your clothing, “it should be me. just me. i am the only one you summon to peel your fruits and to accompany you while you write, so why call upon another to please you at night?” you demanded. it seemed to amuse him all the more.

he raised a brow at your words and their curious tone, “you’re forgetting your place, woman,” he spoke coldly, yet the edge of his statement was somewhat softened by a dash of entertainment. nonetheless, it was enough to send shivers down your spine as his fingers sunk into your cheeks, making your luscious lips pucker. he observed your features; that small tidbit of defiance standing in defence of your vulnerability, your need, your craving. it made him grin with a certain kind of wickedness.

“but i do suppose that makes you my favourite,” he uttered, “no one else would dare be such an audacious thing…” his thumb grazed over your lower lip, parting your mouth open just enough to catch a glimpse of the pink flesh inside, “i could rip your tongue out for your insolence,” he cooed slowly, as if imagining your bleeding mouth, filled to the brim with crimson, “and you’d still be just as pretty.”

a shiver ran down your spine enough to make your bones feel frozen to the marrow, yet his touch left your body scorched; blood boiling with desire for whatever wicked debauchery his mind could conjure up.

“but i do appreciate your tales. very much so.” he spoke, easing his grasp on your face, instead morphing it into an almost appreciative caress.

the uncharacteristically gentle kiss planted to your brow seemed to calm your pounding heart for a mere few moments.

“perhaps i have some reminding to do.”

thank you for reading!

— kamesama.

[mockingkatniss]

NEED A RIDE? - drug dealer!Coriolanus Snow

18+ | nswf | mdni

warnings and tags: swearing, mention of drug dealing, smut, sloppy making out, multiple orgasms, blowjob, mention of gagging, body fluids, use of words like “wh0re” or “slu7”, specific body descriptions. BUZZCUT CORYO (little bit of a jump-scare for some of y’all) MODERN!AU, p in v sex, reader is just soft but not innocent, intese sex, porn without plot. (If I missed anything lmk).

(not proof read because I was tired, I will fix eventual errors <3)

summary: one particularly hot summer evening coryo sees you riding your bike while he’s driving he’s car around mindlessly and he ask you if you need a ride.

words count: 3.109k

Wanted to thank so so much @swiftiekisses because the drug dealer!coryo au it’s hers but she inspired me a lot and I also love so much her writing that I wanted to contribute with this fic! Also a big thanks to @euphemiaamillais because I’m literally addicted to what she writes and for inspirations for the drug dealer! au too! <3

enjoy and support me with a comment or a tiny heart! 💗🎀

coriolanus was driving by the quiet and deserted road of his god forsaken forgotten little town.

he hoped almost every morning to just wake up and found his rotten little city was torn down by some natural catastrophe.

he thought that dreams or ambitions couldn’t come true here. since his family lost everything due to his father's poor life choices, he was now stuck with poverty at 18 years and a cousin and grandmother to look after. more correctly just grandmother, since tigris left for college just the year prior.

to round some money he worked at the gas station, a literal hell hole in summer and plus coryo was sure he left part of his soul here, and sold some drugs to younger kids or kids his age at school or at parties but most of the times they directly came to the gas station.

if a drug had a name it was mostly probable that coryo had it to sell

that summer was cruel, sweat sticking to clothes and the asphalt so hot it could melt shoe soles, so cruel that coryo decided just two days ago to buzz his beautiful platinum curls off. the super short hair gave him a totally new appearance, he noticed that at the last party he went to sell, that mostly girls bought from him, stucking dollar bills inside his front jeans pocket and sometimes begging for a kiss or some good old make out. he accomplished and accepted that he was just extremely hot.

his car moaned underneath him as he drove, that old piece of garbage was still going on but coryo feared that someday he would be left walking.

it was 7:35 pm, his shift at the gas station over since sejanus plinth took his place for the night shift. sejanus was a nice kid, he was rich but decided to take another path just having shitty jobs during the summer like most teens even though for him it wasn't necessary having one. he didn’t sell drugs but he covered coryo so many times at school or at work so he was ok.

coryo had a small joint hanging from his lips as he drove, just one hand on the steering wheel and both the car’s windows opened since his ac was (obviously) broken, but even the air was heavy and warm that night.

miraculously the bluetooth radio was still working so he was listening to some trap rap music on his cracked up phone, the screen broken from everytime he made it fall while running away from cops or simply on the floor on a daily basis. as the music went on he thought about how the suggestion to listen to that genre of music came from clemensia e arachne at school, but it was nice for once not only listening to metal or punk rock.

while he took another hit from his joint something caught his eye on the road. it was a bike, someone was riding it and he probably knew who it could be.

the bike was faded pink with old stickers on it and you were riding it tiredly, legs sore and sweat sticking to your skin.

your tiny tight skirt was riding up a little showing some more of your thighs and coryo swore to god that he saw a glimpse of your pink panties.

sometimes you bought from him some weed and nothing more. you were a literal sunshine and at school you talked to everyone, being friendly and helpful. coryo still remembers how you helped him with physics the first year of highschool. you both were still young but nature obviously blessed you donating you such a sexy body.

he instantly felt his cock gently twitch into his jeans and he made the smoke from the joint exiting his nostrils in annoyance. don’t you get coryo wrong, he had sex and sure plenty of it but since the hot sticky summer he wasn’t feeling like it to just screw some girl even though he just needed to say the words. it was peculiar how his cock woke up just by seeing you.

he drove nearby you slowly to keep up with your velocity and you looked over to acknowledge the presence of a car and as you recognized the driver you smiled throughout puffed breaths from hotness and the riding.

coryo made a small smirk while pulling the joint away from his lips to talk. “hey bunny, need a ride?”. you slowly stopped your bike, tippy toes of your pink vans scratching on the asphalt. coryo stopped the car too and since the streets were dead he just got off his vehicle to look at you while positioning the almost finished joint on the car roof.

you panted lightly as you talked as you examined his presence. “it would be so nice coryo, I think I’m about to faint because of the heat”. he nodded understandingly with his head to the car behind him. “get on, I’ll get the bike” coryo thought he was going crazy when you got off the bike seat revealing more of your thighs. you collected your backpack and lifted yourself up on your tippy toes to kiss his cheek, strawberry lip gloss scent evident on his skin too now. “thank you coryo you’re my savior” you said before going to the opposite back of the car.

once the bike was fixed in the back he turned the car back on, securing his joint back around his lips once again while grabbing his lighter inside his jeans front pocket.

“where am I taking you?” he asked while lighting the joint to take a long drag before passing it to you. “I’m going to my dads house, it’s near the football field, 32nd house” you explained as coryo nodded knowing where it was since he spent much more time driving around in his free time than anything else. you also accepted the joint starting to smoke with relaxed muscles.

coryo looked over at you while driving, there was a peaceful silence. his elbow leaned outside the car’s window as his slim fingers tapped the steering wheel gently while driving. you noticed his rings decorating his fingers and his new buzz cut hair made his features even more sharp. you took three puffs from the joint handing him it back while caressing your naked thighs trying to pull down the miniskirt.

coryo savored till the last minute your lucid lips around the filter that he made, somehow the sweat made your skin warm and inviting, the blonde felt his cock twitch again and he fixed himself on the seat while trusting with his hips forward. he coughed a bit taking the last puff while tossing the dead joint outside the car. “how's it going in general?” you asked softly feeling already your head light but not too much, it was pleasant. “mh it’s ok, it’s too hot to work or to do anything else, I just want winter back” coryo explained briefly, voice slightly rough from smoking. you chuckled while leaning over to him to pinch his cheek softly. “awww snow wants his snow back doesn’t he?” coryo smiled while looking over to her, instinctively he turned over his face to scratch your fingers with his teeth playfully as you kept messing with him. “by the way, you look good today, bunny, but riding that bike with just this tiny skirt? a little bit dangerous don’t you think?” he asked while gripping the steering wheel with both hands. “how is it dangerous? riding my bike won’t stop me” you felt like wanting to touch him so much, so you placed your hand on his thigh. coryo was one of the hottest boys at school and his reputation made him even hotter and you were a total slut for bad boys.

at your gesture he stiffened a bit looking down at you delicately manicured hand and you kept caressing him going higher and higher but stopping just before his crotch. “can’t keep your hands to yourself now?” he tried to be ironic but just your presence had made him incredibly hard and it was difficult to not stop the car and fuck you in the back seats, your pretty head pressed into the plush of the seats. “maybe I don’t want to keep them to myself” you shrugged while pulling away your hand as he stopped the car in front of your dads house.

he exited the car while trying to hide his hard on while pulling his jeans around to crotch to fix the situation but nothing was effective. coryo pulled your bike outside the back of his car and you thanked him again while kissing his cheek but making the kiss longer. he sighed with a smirk while placing his big warm hand on your hips. you caressed his chest while looking up at him, a small pout on your lips. “you’re busy?” you asked, your long lashes batting at him inviting. “mmh no bunny, i’ll probably just go home, smoke again and collapse on my bed” his thumbs caressed your exposed skin just a little bit above your skirt. “why don’t you come inside? my dads busy he won’t be home till tomorrow noon” you swayed your hips a bit with pleading eyes. “fuck bunny you’re truly tempting but-“ you interrupted him while taking his hand, pulling him towards the house. coryo gave in, closing the car with his keys by distance and following you inside. you were making him feral with your temptations and soft eyes.

thank god the house had an ac so it was cooler inside. you tossed your shoes away together with your backpack and went to the kitchen to collect some water for you both and coryo looked around noticing how the house was elegant and well kept.

he slipped off his beaten up black combat boots and just sat on the big couch. he almost sunk inside it, noticing it was a water couch and smirked as dirty thoughts filled his head.

“the water couch is amazing isn’t it?” you giggled while handing him a glass of water while bouncing next to him making the couch move in small waves. “yeah pretty comfortable” he said as he leaned the glass to his lips not looking away from you for any second.

you then smiled mischievously while slipping down the couch, your knees sinking in the soft fluffy carpet. you positioned yourself between his legs while going for the zipper of his pants pulling it down with pure eyes. coryo almost choked on his water as he looked at you with pleased eyes and a big smirk on his lips. “what the fuck are you doing bunny?” he breathed out a laugh as you tried to pull down his pants together with his boxers. “I want to suck you off so bad so lift up your butt now” your tone was playful and demanding and he did as you said making you able to pull his jeans and boxers down making his pink cock sprung to life. it leaned against his tummy perfectly. “what did I do to deserve something like this without even asking?” he placed his hands behind his head pushing his hips up so he could sink more into the water couch. “nothing special but you’re fucking hot and I can’t wait anymore,” you paused to spit on his tip gently while pushing some curls behind your ears. “and I just know you’re good at selling as you’re good at fucking” you giggled while finally gripping his base. “I knew you were big, shit” you were already fantasizing about taking him deep and hard inside your cunt. “you knew?” coryo laughed again but his breath was getting ragged slightly.

you just didn’t respond, kitten licking his tip and collecting precum as you looked up at him. he bit his bottom lip harshly to just concentrate not to burst his cum all over your pretty glittery makeup and long lashes.

you kissed his length till the base then licking a long stripe back up till you swallowed half his cock allowing space with your tongue and cheek. you started to suck and lick and the moans he was making were pornographic.

after a while saliva was dripping down your chin mostly when you decided to deepthroat him with a fluid movement making the water couch sway gently. “ah fuck bunny, you’re so fucking good” coryo moaned, lust clouding his blue eyes as he gripped your curls to buck into your throat just two times just to hear you gag shamelessly around his cock.

you smiled through teary lashes and bubbles of saliva and lifted your head to just suck at his tip harshly.

“shit- I’m gonna come bunny” coryo announced as you jerked off the rest of his cock while concentrating on the tip. at his words you pulled away standing up and his angry cock just leaned against his tummy as he bucked into air. “are you completely mad you fucking slut?” he said impulsively, the ruined orgasm hitting something into his mind profoundly.

you just smirked while slipping off your crop top and miniskirt. “what did you just call me coryo?” you asked while undoing your bra and slipping off your soaked pink panties. his mouth was slightly agape at your naked body, eyes obsessed. “I said you’re a whore, a slut” he said slowly and challengingly, lips mimicking each final letter. “oh yeah? let this slut show you how much of a whore she is.” you walked on the couch standing above him both of your feet planted on each side of his legs making the water couch giggle.

he was completely transfixed as you opened your legs leaning one of your knees on the headset of the couch. you grabbed his head from behind pushing his mouth on your dripping core.

coryo thought about cumming just from that, just from the smell of your juices and the taste of it.

it was so intense, his tongue lapping at your folds once in a while stopping to suck on your lips or clit while humming. his big hands gripped your ass squishing the plush meat here to push his face further into you.

you were a complete mess as you scratched his head and moaned shamelessly and loudly, hips bucking as you trusted him keeping you up to not let you fall.

“fuck coryo! fuck I’m coming!” you chanted as you gripped his head, legs quivering as your juices splashed into his face. coryo felt on cloud nine as he gripped your hips to not let you fall as he lapped at your juice like the starving dog he was. dying by suffocation from your pussy seemed the only best thing he could think of at the moment.

you came down from your high slipping down as you sat on his lap, grabbing his neck to kiss him sloppily to taste yourself in his mouth. you sucked his tongue, licked the roof of his mouth and even licked his teeth while he playfully rubbed your clit. “mh! I’m sensitive-“ you lamented while pushing his hand away, your lips glistening with his saliva. “I need you inside now coryo” you gently kissed his jawline and neck while rubbing your pussy onto his still angry cock. “your wish is my demand bunny but you’re not gonna come again sooner or later” as he said so with his low voice he pushed his cock inside of your thigh pussy helping himself with his fingers and you laughed a moan while arching and sitting fully on his hard member. he immediately hit your cervix so good you felt helpless.

it was the most passionate and sloppiest sex of your entire life. you rode him like your entire existence depended on it, you knees sunk into the water couch as you bounced on his cock helped by the gentle waves. his hands were placed right on top of your ribs as your hips were too quick to control anyways. you pushed your head so hard against his that your noses squished together as your forehead and your moans and shouts tangled together. both mouths opened, eyebrows furrowed.

coryo didn’t even remember his name anymore when you clenched hard around him signaling somehow that you were close. “stupid bunny thought she could come yeah?” he murmured around a moan as he gripped hard your ass to stop your intense riding. “what the fuck coryo? don’t stop please, fuck!” you lamented but when he pushed your back into the couch your eyes rolled in the back of your skull. coryo fucked into you helplessly, his orgasm close. your back arched and he massaged your breasts cupping them harshly. “shit fuck! I’m coming” he moaned, eyes fluttering close for a minute. to make you pay he pulled out, cum splashing on your tummy and even on your breasts from the intensity of it and you cried out loud from the loss of his cock inside of you. you even laughed a bit through cries because of where his cum landed but then you gripped his ear angrily. “make me come coryo, make me fucking come” she arched rubbing her pussy against his worked out cock. coryo panted a laugh and gripped your jaw with his hand tightly before leaning over to bit and pull your lower lip. he massaged your clit with all of his hand opened while looking at you. “look at your fucked out face, you’re completely drunk on my cock” he laughed again mischievously just to degrade you. he rubbed your entire pussy quickly, slapping your clit once in a while. “now you’re gonna come and admit that only my cock can make you this fucked up mh?” you nodded, eyes rolling once in a while. “yes, yes coryo, only you, only want your cock” he chuckled again while his hand kept going. “that’s what I wanted to hear bunny” at his last words you came, the orgasm making your entire skeleton tremble in pure bliss. you cried his name with your mouth wide open.

when you calmed down a bit he was just caressing your thighs while admiring your body painted with his cum and you smiled while stretching out a bit. “next time you’re gonna come inside coryo” you said it so naturally with a small smile and a yawn and coryo playfully slapped your sensitive clit with two fingers making you whine a bit. “I'm looking forward to the next time in like, 10 minutes, bunny.”

[renardiererin]

rintarou suna who carefully planned out your entire wedding and how he would propose to you after dating you for three months

rintarou suna who lets you help babysit his younger sister and looks at you as if his eyes are hearts bulging out of his head at how good you are with kids and thinks to himself how badly he wants to have a family with you someday

rintarou suna who rubs your back and hums your favorite songs and strokes your hair when hes trying to help you sleep

rintarou suna who swears he loves you more than anything measurable- more than the entire universe x10 and back- because he says you saved him

rintarou suna who offers to let you wear his clothes when you’re sad, hoping that it’ll cheer you up to be engulfed in his clothes, seeing as he’s more than twice your size

rintarou suna who knows you’re indecisive and will pick things for you if you truly can’t decide, but will base his choices on what he knows you secretly want more

rintarou suna who carries random offbrand fruity candy assortments in his pocket like a grandma to share with you and his friends

rintarou suna who vowed to protect you from the metaphorical monsters in your head from the day you met all the way to adding it in to his wedding vows as he slides the ring on your finger- the ring he picked out the second he knew you were the one, which in his case was after about 5 months into the relationship

rintarou suna who paints portraits of you but always gets upset that they “never truly captivate your complete and total beauty”

rintarou suna who daydreams about running off to the south of france with you to open a small flower shop where your shared apartment rests on the upstairs of your shop, with a good view so he can sit at his canvas and paint the scenery and know he’s only there because of you

rintarou suna who said “i love you i love you i love you” in the very first letter he ever wrote for you, resulting in saying the pretty words three times in a row becoming a regular inside thing for the two of you that nobody gets but you two

rintarou suna who started by only wanting one kid, having to be heavily convinced to have a second (because you don’t want the first to be lonely), but after you crack him and get him to agree to a second kid he wants a third and a fourth and a fifth and three cats and a dog and a snake because he wants to raise everything with you because life is short and he wants to live it with you and only you

rintarou suna who builds you beautiful minecraft builds, complete with chests filled to the brim of books he’s thoroughly typed out with all of his love and thoughts spilled on every page

rintarou suna who runs up to you in minecraft just to deliver you a pretty flower he picked because he thinks it’ll match your eyes

rintarou suna who was emotionally numb when he met you because of everything he’d been going through at home, but knew you were the one he wanted for the rest of his life the second he laid eyes on you and realized that you made him feel something- which was an occurrence that hadn’t happened in years

“you made me feel again, love. i never thought i would be able to do that.”

rintarou suna who lets you play games on his phone and trusts you with his life, who would never ever let go of you in a million years because he wants you for himself until the end of time because he simply can’t risk losing you

rintarou suna who buys you rings and diamond necklaces and clothes and the most absurdly expensive gifts just for the purpose of wanting to spoil you rotten

rintarou suna who loves you too much to ever leave without telling you how much he loves you. he won’t shower or go to practice or go to the bathroom or leave to go to the kitchen or hang up the facetime without telling you what to mean to him

rintarou suna who loves you no matter what, and will keep it that way until the end of time…

no matter what it takes <3

[weirdsht]

Cliché - LoTCF & Venion Stan! Reader

notes: ngl i took more time dwelling whether i should make this a series. but i never did two series at once because i can't handle the commitment, so i compromised by making it a long oneshot. ALSO TRIGGER WARNING: I put my psych major to work while writing this fic so...

tags: TRIGGER WARNING PLEASE CAREFULLY READ THE TAGS (dw nothing too graphic for every warning) depression, eating disorder, anxiety, self-loathing, torture and abuse, guilt, like lots of guilt, passive to mild suicidal thoughts, not being able to control your body, catatonic depression, anhedonia, blood, cursing, vague novel spoilers, Taylor Stan being the best brother out there, open ending i think, can be seen as hurt/comfort

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are open and welcome

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Navigation Masterlist Platitude (pt. 2)

Tak Tak Tak

The sound of the horses of the carriage filled your ears as soon as you woke up.

…Wait horses?

How could there be horses when you were sure you were inside a lecture hall?

“Young master I’m glad you’re awake. We are nearing Viscount Tolz’s territory.”

Viscount Tolz? That sounds familiar, but you can’t quite put your finger on it as you just woke up.

You observed the unfamiliar place you woke up in. You seem to be inside a carriage, years of reading manhwas, manhuas, mangas and web novels have gotten you familiar as to what they looked like. 

Observing the interior a bit more, you notice that the carriage you are in seems luxurious. That and the servant riding a horse outside the carriage window just called you “young master”. 

‘Did I transmigrate? I swear I was just nodding off during one of my lectures…’

“You. What date is it? My head feels fuzzy from sleeping in this uncomfortable carriage.”

‘I’ve rotten my brain reading that damn isekai genre. I already know the drill, I should be a villain or something. I guess I should be glad I didn’t end up as an animal, those things have gotten popular these days…’

You silently shivered at the thought of being a bird or a snake.

“I’m sorry about the seat young master. You’re custom cushion should be arriving tomorrow. As for the date, it is currently year 780 of the Felix Calendar.”

Shit

By the calendar mentioned you could already tell what series you transmigrated to. There was only one series you know that uses Felix Calendar.

Lout of the Count’s Family

And it looks like you got sucked into that novel a year before things began.

“As soon as that arrives install it in my carriage. This thing is as hard as a brick.”

Contrary to what you say, the seat is very soft and comfortable. However, if you really did transmigrate as a villain like in all those manhwas you’ve read then you figured you have to act as bratty as possible. 

“I understand young master. We are nearing the villa soon, I’m sure young master Neo has prepared your room so you can rest.”

Fuck. You’re fucked.

Out of all the small villains in existence you just had to steal the body of a dragon abuser. You just had to get in the body of Venion Stan.

Venion out of all people. Even Neo Tolz or Adin or Duke Fredo would’ve been better picks.

But no, the gods of this world just had to put you in the body of an atrocious villain that has no use.

Never mind running away in the countryside while enjoying all the inheritance, there’s no way that black dragon is going to leave you alone.

…And for sure the black dragon is already 3 years old, there’s no saving you now. Anger and despair are already planted in that poor baby’s heart.

Everything moved too quickly to your liking. One moment you were in the carriage, then next Neo was greeting you. After you blinked you’re already in the black dragon’s cell.

‘Can I survive a year before Cale comes here to get the dragon?’

The black dragon can’t use mana, let alone dragon fear. But his vicious gaze full of animosity is already enough to make you feel guilt and fear.

He looked so pitiful. The cell might be spacious, but a cage will still be a cage. He was just there, in the middle of the cell. Chained and unable to fight back.

The buffet in the middle doesn’t help the queasiness you feel in your stomach.

“Do-”

‘Don’t bother with it, I won't be visiting the dragon further.’

The words you want to say are stuck in your throat. Some unknown force is stopping you from uttering them out.

You figured it was so that things would still go according to the plot.

‘I know I wasn’t the greatest in my previous life, but was I so bad that I must experience this?’

Tap Tap Tap

Heels of your shoes tapped against the ground as you walked towards the table. You tried to stop your body, but it was useless. No matter how hard you try to stop yourself you just keep moving.

“Start.”

Your voice- no Venion’s voice said and the torturer started whipping the dragon.

Gulp

There’s a bile in your throat threatening to show itself. However, you swallowed it. The scene may look horrendous, but you didn’t look away. You didn’t stop eating the feast in front of you. You didn’t stop laughing at the small dragon’s demise.

More like you couldn’t.

You wanted to cry. You wanted to go back to your world and curl up in your bed. You wanted all of this to be a dream.

‘Is this the doing of the gods? If so then why must they be cruel.’

“Is there anything else you want to do young master?”

“No just go out. All of you. I will follow in a short while”

Following your order, everyone in the dungeon started heading out. After a few seconds, there was no one but you and the dragon in the room.

Bleurgh!

As soon as there was no one else in the room you vomited. Good thing there was a bathroom attached in the dungeon. The bathroom door was wide open as you puked your gut out, showing the black dragon a view of your pale face. Despite that you didn’t care, your only focus was to get rid of the horrible feeling running through your body.

It’s not as if the dragon would care about its torturer.

That night you spent the entire time in your bed tossing and turning. Too tired to sleep but too scared to face the nightmares you have to combat every time you do.

“Go find a magician or something and commission a temperature-regulating device. I want it installed at the cave before we visit the Tolz territory again.”

“As you wish your highness. However, aren’t you spending a bit too much on a mere pet?”

“You dare think I’m buying all these things for that pesky dragon? I’m buying it for my own comfort, you should be aware of how I want to be comfortable all the time.”

“It seems I made a mistake. I shall prepare everything you desire for the next time you visit the villa.”

Six months has already passed since you became Venion Stan. Adjusting wasn’t easy, especially when there are more times when you can’t control your body than when you can.

But still, you persevered.

It wasn’t like you had a choice anyway. You have already taken over this body so you have to live in it. That and there’s also the fact that you want the original plot to go smoothly.

You want the black dragon to experience justice.

So you persist. Even when the atrocities you did make you puke. Even when you want to kill yourself.

You didn’t

It wasn’t right.

You may not be the original Venion Stan, but it wouldn’t be right to take away the revenge the black dragon deserves. That was why you decided to persevere.

Persevere now and suffer at the dragon's hands later before finally dying.

That was your plan.

You didn’t care about other things anymore. Money, territory, power; none of those things mattered to you anymore. Too disgusted with yourself and everything you have been doing to even attempt to enjoy those things.

However

There’s a silver lining in all of this.

After a month of being in your new body, you have found a loophole. You found a way to combat some of the restrictions to your actions. As long as you sound selfish and villainous enough, you can get away with saying and doing most things.

Using this knowledge to your advantage, you slowly made life for the dragon easier. You bought a lot of things such as cushions, a more comfortable collar, and the temperature-regulating device you just ordered. You also used this fact to lessen your hold on both Taylor Stan and the underworld.

“Venion, I heard you withdrew the people watching over your older brother.”

You scowled at Marquis Stan’s words as if the mere mention of Taylor Stan upsets you.

“Father, what can that cripple do? He has no legs, no power, and barely has any money. Putting people to watch over someone like that will only be a waste of resources.”

Luckily, the marquis agreed with your reasoning and let the situation go while praising how smart you are.

‘Hopefully by this Taylor Stan can gather more information now that my people are now hovering over him.’

That night you managed to sleep for approximately 30 minutes. The longest sleep you’ve experienced since coming over to this world.

Bleurgh!!

It was another torture session and once again you were vomiting everything you ate that week after the session. 

While you were busy trying to not make a mess on the bathroom floor, you didn’t notice a certain young dragon observing you.

He may be three years old and he may not know much but his still smart because he's a dragon. That was why he noticed the changes in his captor that started around 8 months ago. 

The young dragon noticed the hesitation in your eyes whenever you entered the dungeon. How you were puking from self-hatred and not because of how bad the food was like you said. How your laugh is soulless, especially when he’s being tortured. 

How you stagger the slightest bit while standing up after those sessions. How your hands shook ever so slightly from guilt. How you tried to make the cell as comfortable as possible for him despite saying you were doing it for your own comfort. 

How your eyes look more lifeless each time he sees you.

The young dragon noticed all of it. He may not know what caused the change, but he knows that everything you’re doing is against your volition.

“Fuck I lost my appetite already. I’m going back to my room. Feed those scraps to that dragon.”

You ordered your servants on your way out. Walking as if your entire body wasn’t shaking ten seconds ago.

The black dragon just watches you with observant eyes. 

The “scraps” you were talking about were the feast that was barely even touched. It had always been like this for a few months now. You would barely touch your food and give it to the dragon in the guise of treating him like a dog.

For now, the young one accepts the food. He’ll figure out your intentions later.

“Lessen the guards at the dungeon. Remove all the cushions too, I’m going to change them. Do the same thing to the dragon’s collar too. While you’re at it increase the guards stationed at my quarters. Put the guards in the cave to my room.”

It’s the fated day. Time passed and now is already the day the black dragon will be rescued by Cale, Choi Han, and the cat tribe children. You already met them earlier and acted as arrogant as you could.

Hence the preparation. You need to make it look like the dragon was kept in a horrible condition. Of course, he was… but like much more worse conditions.

“Assassins have been increasing their attempts lately. If I see someone assigned to my room not doing your jobs I’m going to feed you to the sharks. Oh, and you.”

You pointed at a random servant passing by.

“Here’s some gold, buy some alcohol from the inn. Don’t tell anyone I was the one who bought it.”

“May I ask what you’re going to do with the alcohol young master?”

Everyone knows that Venion Stan deemed things not noble enough as disgusting. But you felt guilty for pushing that old man around earlier so you made an excuse.

“Depends on my mood. I’m feeling generous so if you all guard my room tonight then I’ll give you the alcohol tomorrow to drink.”

Everyone held in their shock.

“But if you don’t then I’m going to throw each bottle in your heads while drinking real wine.”

With that, you turned around to lie down on your bed.

That night was the same as every other night you spent in this world. Sleepless. However, that night you felt some weight being lifted off your shoulders as you heard the ruckus Choi Han was causing outside.

‘He should be curled up in Cale’s lap while looking at me viciously’

You stealthily peeked at Cale as you walked towards your seat. Just a moment ago he was trying to rile you up by acting obnoxious. It was hard to try and act like you were keeping your composure when you agreed with everything he said.

“What the..!” 

‘Shit did I not put enough strength into my acting?’

You barely felt your blonde hair sway as you slapped the table in supposed shock at Taylor Stan’s entrance.

‘Maybe I should’ve forced myself to eat a little bit more before coming here…’

Gritting your teeth, you ignore the black spots dancing in your vision. Today is a vital day, you can’t ruin the script by fainting because you only ate 3 spoonfuls during breakfast.

Luckily, it looks like everything is going according to the plot. Based on everyone’s reaction, you looked like an enraged noble.

Days following that event were even more chaotic. Not only was the terrorist attack in the plaza terrifying but trying to act as if you were trying to hold on to your position when you just wanted to give it to Taylor was even tougher.

As usual, you persevered.

Comforted yourself at the thought that in a few months, you can embrace death’s sweet presence.

“Do I look different without the blood?”

You felt scared and relieved at the sight of the black dragon that now goes by Raon Miru.

Scared because even though you have resigned yourself to your fate, and felt like you deserve it even, you still feel fear for what’s about to come.

Relief because he looks healthy. Chubby even. You were glad that he was living a good life after he got away from you.

Disregarding your feelings, you let the poisonous fog into your body. Resigning yourself to the four days of hell waiting.

Ugh…

Your body feels sluggish when you wake up.

“What the… It hasn’t even begun yet why does that bastard’s eyes already look dead?”

“That’s what I was telling you human! That punk's eyes tell a different story from his actions.”

Soft. Whatever you were lying down on felt soft. It wasn’t like what you’ve read in the novel where Venion was lying down on the hard ground. The magic collar was also soft. It felt similar to the one you bought for Raon a year ago. 

You would know because you made sure to pick the softest one yourself.

“His eyes look more dead than when I last saw him at that cave.”

Eyes? Were they talking about yours?

You didn’t know. You didn’t care.

You just want everything to end.

Gasp!

Someone gasped, you think it was one of the kittens.

“T-tears! Why is he crying? I only put paralysis in poison earlier.”

Crying? You were crying?

You sit up. It was hard because of the chains tying your arms but you still did it.

As you look down on your lap, tears are indeed flowing.

‘Why am I crying? Wasn’t I waiting for this day?’

Everything was already planned in your head. You get tortured then you will go crazy. Then you will kill yourself and make everyone believe you did it because you’re crazy.

So why are you crying now?

Why are you in tears as if you don’t deserve what’s happening to you?

Why do you weep as though you haven’t committed several crimes this past year?

How dare you do so.

How dare you act so pitifully when the child you tortured is right in front of you?

Shameless. Till the end, you’re so shameless.

Click! 

Thunk!

Beacrox unlocked the magic collar. As he did you saw it falling on the ground.

“Ah, so there really was fur inside…”

Your voice sounded soulless. It sounded so dead that even you were shocked at how you sounded.

But it also felt cathartic.

After two years of trying to act lively. Two years of acting as if you were fighting for something.

You can finally let out your real emotions.

Two years. It took more than two years for you to be granted that privilege. 

“Speak. I heard you bought the same thing for Raon.”

“You really named him Raon…”

Beacrox grabbed your collar. He looked furious. If you remember things correctly, he just heard about the dragon’s story a while ago so you understand his feelings.

“He told you to answer. Why did you buy something like that after 3 years?”

“I was getting tired of looking at the hard metal… There was nothing in that cave but stone and metal…”

Your tears are still flowing. It looks like they were crying a whole year’s worth. 

Despite that, you were not shaking, nor were your eyes looked sad.

Contrarily, you looked like those creepy dolls with soulless eyes that cried in horror films.

That low-key scared everyone in the room.

“Before, when I was three, I saw you shaking every time you came to the cave. Why was that?”

What’s happening? Why is there a sudden interrogation? You signed up for torture not for a cross-examination.

Still, you answered the dragon.

“I can’t tell.”

“Is it related to how you can’t seem to say what you want at times?”

Just how much did that kid notice in the few times you visited him?

“Yes. When are you going to get started? I need to meet with my hyung after this…”

Meet him and then die.

So please hurry up already.

“Hey punk, you sound like you already know what’s going to happen.”

“It’s obvious. This place looks exactly like that damn cave.”

You were getting tired of talking.

Actually, you were tired. Period.

“But it doesn’t look like how I left the cave when you rescued him.”

“Yes, because that wasn’t how the cave I lived in looked like. It looked like this.”

And the “this” Raon was talking about felt more homey. There were soft lights and a bunch of pillows and cushions. There were even some stuffed toys and blankets.

Was this how you decorated Raon’s cave?

You can’t remember.

Not that you care.

“Can we get started already please?”

“I thought you were a sadist, not a masochist.”

Something snapped inside you at that moment. You didn’t know why it was Choi Han’s comment that riled you up. Maybe it wasn’t the comment but the waiting that set you off.

“Just do it already! Are you dumb?! This fucking plot will not move unless you fucking torture me!”

In that moment you felt a searing pain in your chest.

“Argh!”

Blood flowed out from your mouth.

‘So that’s what happens when I try to push the restrictions.’

Coughing out blood when you’re body was already weak from not eating and sleeping enough was bound to cause you to faint.

And faint you did.

“Young master Cale said you were unconscious for 4 days. The doctor told me you were both malnourished and fatigued. One of your servants confessed that it’s an achievement if you eat 4 spoonfuls every meal. The young master also mentioned how it seems like you were forced to do everything you’ve done… Just what is happening? Hmm? Tell this hyung of yours.”

“Hyung…”

In the end, you didn’t get tortured…

“What’s going to happen now? What’s going to happen to me?”

You diverged from the fate carved out for Venion Stan.

That made you scared.

The restriction placed upon you to prevent you from straying from the plot scared you.

“Everything will be okay. But you need to tell me what’s going on.”

Taylor Stan hugged you, and you felt disgusted with yourself that you dare find warmth and comfort in that hug. Disgusted that you dared cry in front of him when you tried to kill him in the past.

But you couldn’t help it.

You couldn’t help that your hyung was soft and caring even though he was stern and strict. 

“I’m scared hyung. I’m a horrible person.”

As you speak you notice Cale in the corner of the room. He was trying to go out to give you two some privacy.

“Please stay.”

‘You deserve to hear the truth too.’

Cale stopped moving at your words. 

At that moment you decided to spill everything. Venion Stan’s role was already done. Even if it wasn’t, you already strayed from the path written for him. So you’re pulling all stops now.

“I’m a horrible person that did horrid crimes. I know that, I did them with my own hands after all. But I didn’t want to do them.”

You felt that stinging pain slowly coming back.

“There are times when I can’t control the things I say or do. No matter how hard I try my body won’t listen to me.”

The taste of blood in your mouth is back. You tried to act as calm as possible and nonchalantly spit it out in a napkin as if you were just wiping your mouth.

“I think it’s the god’s doing. It’s fated that I must be a bad guy for everything in the future to work out.”

You wiped your mouth again.

“I couldn’t resist it. But I found a loophole.”

Wipe

“If I make it look like what I was doing is villainous then my movements will not be restricted as much.”

“So when you removed the people watching over my residence..?”

You nodded while wiping your mouth once again.

However, this time Taylor snatched the napkin out of your hands.

“You’re bleeding..!”

“Ah…”

You were wiping so much blood that it already seeped out. Causing for Taylor and Cale to see the blood.

“I should’ve used a darker colour…”

“Stop talking. I’ve already heard everything I need to know.”

“I have nothing else to say to you anyway.”

The two men started walking out of the door when you called out to someone.

“Young master Cale, can you please stay? I must tell you something.”

The marquis and the young master exchanged a glance before one of them left the room.

“What is it?”

At Taylor’s exit, Raon undid his invisibility.

“It’s not fate.”

Cale and Raon looked at you as if you’d lost your head. Honestly, you wish you did. Being beheaded right now is better than living with these horrible feelings.

“It’s plot. You should know what I’m talking about.”

Luckily, Marquiss Stan left the napkin so you could wipe your mouth again.

“I think the universe, not the gods, made a mistake with me. But despite their mistake, they are insistent on going with the plot laid out.”

You discarded the napkin. It’s already drenched with too much of your blood that it can’t be used anymore.

“But don’t worry. This plot is very beneficial to you. You just have to follow whatever you think is right. You can disregard whatever anyone says. Even if that anyone is a god.”

‘Unlike me’

Cale handed you a handkerchief and you wiped your mouth with it.

“Lastly, I’m sorry Raon Miru-nim. My only choice was to either keep torturing you or throw you out. I couldn’t throw you out, because if I did then you wouldn’t meet the young master.”

“It’s okay… I am great and mighty so I figured out long ago that you were being forced.”

“Thank you.”

With that the dragon became invisible again and the two head out of the room.

Cleanup was easy. Of course, it was. Everything was already planned out beforehand.

The previous marquis was arrested and his people were successfully rooted out. You got sentenced to house arrest.

Meaning, you got a slap on the wrist.

It confused you. Why did you get such a light sentence when you did so many horrible things? It didn’t even feel like house arrest because your hyung always kept you by his side and personally took care of you.

“How about you? How are you and your brother doing?”

You heard Cale speaking on the other side of the communication device. But you just kept your head low and stared at your palms, unmoving.

“That…”

Marquis Stan hesitated.

“His been listless since that day. I checked with an expert and they said his in a catatonic state.”

You blur out the rest of their conversation. It wasn’t like there was a need to listen anyway. There’s nothing for you to do now. Your role is done but you can’t die.

You're tired.

So so fucking tired.

Tired of waking up. Tired of moving. Tired of thinking. Tired of breathing.

Tired of living.

So you opted to not move. Tune out the world around you. Maybe if you’re lucky they’ll leave you to rot in that lavish room of yours.

“Your eyes look more lively today. Do you have enough energy to speak?”

You blinked once. Then twice. You don’t know how many days have passed already. All of them look like a giant blur in your mind.

For the first time in a while, you moved your body to look at your surroundings.

As you take in your surroundings you notice that there’s a storm outside. That and Taylor Stan seem to have put you in the wheelchair he used to use.

“Taylor Stan…”

“Call me hyung.”

Did you deserve to? Well, it doesn’t matter since he ordered you to.

“Hyung”

“Yes, my dongsaeng?”

“Why won’t you kill me?”

The wheelchair stopped in its tracks. It was because the one pushing it stopped walking.

“Why would I kill you?”

“Why would you not kill me?”

You had no way of knowing just how scared Taylor was at this moment. Your voice sounded so soulless. As if you were asking about the weather and not about your death. He was already scared that one day he would just wake up to find you dead. Your questions and your way of asking them are not helping his fear.

“I told you, I wouldn’t kill my family.”

“Ah…”

Silence lingered as the two of you went to your room. Inside, the first thing you noticed was the door on the wall.

“That’s a connecting door. It’s connected to my room.”

“Very fitting for a criminal like me that needs to be monitored at all times.”

“That’s not…”

Taylor Stan chose to sigh instead of answering. After he did, he called the servants to help you with your nighttime routine.

“You all can go now, I’ll take it from here.”

Servants filed out of your room as your brother took the brush from a servant's hand.

“You know that this is useless right?”

“Why is that?”

Taylor continued brushing your blonde hair that now reaches past your shoulders.

“It’s not like I’ll sleep. There’s never a night where I slept for more than 30 minutes. I think.”

“Maybe if I stay by your side you’ll sleep better.”

You didn’t respond. You just watched in the mirror how your hyung gently brushed your hair. At some point, you pulled your legs up to your chest and started hugging them.

Taylor Stan didn’t seem to mind your movements. In fact, he seems to encourage them.

“Let’s eat dinner now. Do you want to walk?”

“No.”

The mere thought of moving more than you already did makes you feel nauseated.

Your hyung nodded and started pushing the wheelchair again. As he did the sight of the food prepared on your table caught your eyes. It wasn’t a feast like how you were served in the past.

Instead, there were just two simple identical meals on the table.

It reminded you of how you used to eat your meals back on earth.

“You’re eating too?”

“I haven’t eaten yet. I figure we can eat together since Cage is not here.”

She must be in the super rock’s villa or something.

Eat together was what you did. Well, more like Taylor ate while you take a few bites and play with your food.

“Do you not want to eat anymore?”

“No.”

“It’s fine, just leave it there. You already ate thrice more than you usually would. It’s okay to take it slow.”

That’s true. You ate 10 spoonfuls today when you would usually just take a bite or two. Three at most.

Maybe a gentle company and a simple meal did the trick. But you aren’t sure.

After the meal, you brushed your teeth before lying down on the bed. Taylor was sitting on a couch beside your bed as promised.

That night, for the first time since you arrived in this world, you managed to sleep almost the whole night.

[bits-and-babs]

✦ 𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ✦

– KINKTOBER DAY 5: CLOTHES ON

joel miller x reader | smut, 18+ | 1.1k words

summary: trapped inside a wardrobe whilst hiding from infected, joel ups the ante of survival.

cw: f!reader, forced proximity, threat to life, mentions of gore, quiet or die kind of vibe, unprotected sex, p in v sex, cream pie, autassassinophilia – arousal in the fear of being killed.

⇽ KINKTOBER MLIST | DAY 6: NIPPLE PIERCINGS ⇾

The curve at the base of your skull cracks against the decaying wall of the wardrobe as Joel smothers your startled gasp with his palm. His life-line stifles your heaving, fearful breaths as the croaks and moans of the infected seep beneath the rotten door. Shuffling feet stumble down the corridor, bodies bumping into each other and snarling as they chase the promise of a pulse. Joel forces your eyes to focus on him, silently urging you not to look at the hoard slowly staggering by.

You can make out the image of your horrified expression reflected in his glassy eyes, see the way you shudder and flinch when a body bumps into the door. Joel leans his bodyweight against you, crushing your chest with his own and offers you a stiff shake of his head; a wordless ❝don’t❞. In truth, you don’t need his caution. You wouldn’t dream of it. 

Still, fear continues to coagulate in your gut, the awful stench of the infected creeps between hinges of the wardrobe you had both frantically crammed into in a desperate attempt to avoid the advancing numbers of animated corpses. They weren’t quite like the smell of the rotten carcass of Bill’s friend, Frank, hanging by his neck and emanating a putrid odour that threatened to bring up the rations that you had halved and then halved again – precious calories and nutrients so hard to come by now. No, the infected had a base scent of something similar, but mostly reeked of damp-mould, as though wood had absorbed water and had begun to rot from the inside out. It wasn’t quite retch-inducing, but what they lacked in rancid scent they made up for in threatening numbers and horrifying looks. 

Joel breathes deeply, and the sound wrenches you from your spiralling desire for survival. You watch as his eyes mutate, shift into something much darker. It’s thrilling and horrifying, sets your arm hair on end as you feel him lean forwards, the tip of his nose brushing your temple. 

Stranglers of the hoard of infected runners continue to lumber down the hallway, rasping and snapping at anything that moves– but the chilling sounds are drowned out by the thumping of your pulse in your ears when Joel’s teeth scrape at the curve of your neck. 

“J-Joel,” you squeak, the single syllable barely audible. Fingertips bury into the flesh of your hip, brand your skin with purple, blotchy bruises in warning. He wants you to be silent. An image flashes in your mind's eye; the museum, Joel’s index finger pressed to his lips as the ticking echolocation of a Clicker pulsed through the room. You’d hardly survived then. Tess hadn’t. 

Squeezing your eyes shut, you feel your heart leap when he takes the flesh above your pulse-point between his teeth. He bares down on it, tendrils of pain sparking out across the nerves in your neck– enough to mark. A precarious round of Would-I-Lie-To-You when you inevitably stumble upon other survivors who would demand to know where the bite came from. How would you even begin to explain? “Oh, well, me and my partner were chased by a hoard of hundreds of runners into a hotel where we hunkered down in a wardrobe and he decided he wanted to take the chance to fuck me while the runners passed by.” 

Yeah, you wouldn’t believe you either. 

You’d seen Joel before the hospital in Salt Lake. Before he lost Ellie to a lie. Seen the ruthless, immovable survivor who did everything by the book and never once flirted with danger for the sake of a ridiculous thrill– just to feel something. But that was before “I swear.” Before “Okay.” 

The clink of your belt between Joel’s fingertips is the crank of a gun’s hammer pulling back. His own, slow suicide. 

The blunt head of his cock spears your cunt slowly, a shuddering breath buried in the crook of your neck as he sinks into your velvet heat. Thighs crushing his ribs, you rock your head back against the wall of the wardrobe and swallow down the wail that bubbles in your throat. 

Then he’s grasping the backs of your legs, just below the crook of your knees and folds them back against your chest. Joel’s practically folding you in half, exposing your glistening cunt before beginning a pace so devastating that it obliterates the primal fear settled deep within your gut and reinstates a carnal arousal that has you clawing at his shoulders. 

Again, his palm smothers your shrieks before you manage to ring the dinner bell. Joel, however, works in utter silence. Easing back before cracking his hips back into you, the most he offers in return is a soft groan of relief. Perhaps the jolting thrusts of his pelvis had shaken your very being from your body, but you’re almost certain you feel a smirk dance against your pulse. 

Dampness clings to your skin, fear and delight, horror and bliss drawing the perspiration from your pores. Joel loves it– lathes his tongue against your throat to taste the salt of you as he buries his cock deep inside of you. He’s bruising you. 

You try to say his name, but it dies in your throat before you even mouth it. Joel hears it anyway– he always does. Listens to the tremor in your thighs, pays attention to the tightening of your abdomen beneath his palm, takes heed of the strain of your leather boots when your toes curl. He responds likewise, roughly pushing his thumb into the throbbing swell of your clit.

It rocks through you, materialising so quickly there’s no way to halt the faint cry of bliss swallowed by Joel’s palm. He halts his thrusts suddenly, each muscle in his body stalling in fear as you come apart around his fat, throbbing dick. Tears well and stream from your eyes, bleeding into your hairline as you thrash against the seering pleasure. 

“F-Fuck–” Joel chokes quietly in your ear, and suddenly he’s pulsing, painting your pretty pussy with his cum. There’s so much of it, seeping from your folds and streaming down the inside of your thighs as he fucks it into you, face contorting with bliss as he overstimulates himself through his orgasm just to draw out the sensation a little longer. 

When the dust settles, no infected claw at the door. There’s no runners who have heard your cries, silence falling on the corridors of the hotel beyond the hinges of the wardrobe. Instead, an altogether different monster rears its ugly head and sinks its teeth into your flesh. Neither of you will admit it– can admit that the fear of being found, of being torn limb from limb and devoured had been enough to force a mind-shattering orgasm from Joel. No, you can’t admit it, but you can’t forget either. 

The cum leaking from between your legs as you both continue your journey back to Boston makes sure of it. 

pedro pascal/kinktober masterlist:

@xwing-baby , @mybugboy , @pansa-1-san , @pedrosprincess , @cosm1c-babe , @lil-stark , @heart-atttack @crybaby-blue-blog, @ssimelttilgniht @2pacacabra @pauldanosgf @leithatnight @kirsteng42 @dindjarinsmut @s0ftgabby @milly-louise @aynsleywalker @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @uncassettodiricordi @howellatme @mortallyuniquepeach @maviee @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction @stvrlights-world @alloftheboysivelovedbefore @girlofchaos @s-u-t @pintsizedsunshine @djarin-dreams @solidly-indulgent @bii-aan-ckaa @casa-boiardi @maelstrom007 @nikisfwn @levi-llama @haunt3dh3art @lundenloves @rentaldarling @cyberpr1m3 @jedi-in-crocs @yunggoblin @spideyman-peter @iaur @cool-iguana @paleidiot

@bloodmoon-bites @wiltedwonderland @doggydale @limegreenbabx @namelesshumanperson @ninahhh-brahh

[euryvices]

songs for my moots, pt.3

god, this is for one of my favourite moots and the one person I feel I can reach out to any time. @irateturtles ilysm. ur heart is gold. based off of the prompt :

also, I'm 100% sure I was possessed by a gay cowboy while singing this so. southern sirius black, anyone?

lyrics :

[i am not from south america. i don't even come from america! why do i sound like a cowboy]

i'm feelin' moony, right down to my rotten core like somethin' that you know is there but don't believe moony, like a dog at your front door, waitin' in the rain for you to feel

oh the way that you look tonight, the moon in your starry eyes i can't help, but feel some typa way the way your laugh is flatterin', i drink it in like the wine we sip and i can't look away

im feelin' moony, like a drunk boy on the roof prayin' his loony smile don't reveal

how he feel inside, for a boy who thinks he's kind who believes, who believes

oh my poor, dyin' beast of burden, i love you like the fleas on your back like the roll-in, swept up heat of summer, aching at your weary bones it's time to come home

my rabid, unloved child, who done told you the land won't hold you strong who you love, and who you kiss, don't matter much in all of this, you just gotta stick around

and stay moony, like a little teenage crush like something that you know time will heal moony, like a bedpost in the wind stick around the cyclone when it hits

laugh out loud and sing and bring everything to its knees little man, hand of god

hand in hand, oh, johnny cash, can't hold a dime to what we have i love you, i do

my poor, dyin' beast of burden, i love you like the fleas on your back like the roll-in, swept up heat of summer, aching at your weary bones please come home

my rabid, unloved child, who told me that the land won't hold me strong who i love, and who you kiss, don't matter much in all of this, i just gotta stick around and find out

all my guilt, all my love everything i have won't save me

my kind-ness will not purify me my love will not save my kindness won't bring you back

im feelin' moony, right here with a half-pint glass sitting at your grave like a dog thinkin' bout your smile, the way you'd crack a half-moon joke every once in a blue moon - tonight

i need you, i want you, i cant live without you but i know you're gone.

i swear, if i had proper equipment, i'd be a singer

[starlightsuffered]

Mad

Info - reader being insulted, eating rotten food, anger, Tim being insensitive

We were eating dinner together. He was back after a long stint of filming which meant he'd been living on mostly fast food and take out. He'd always exclaimed over my cooking and so l'd been excited to make him a home made meal.

He wasn't reacting the way he normally did. I was watching his face closely. He didn't look positive. My heart was sinking. I hadn't even taken a bite myself yet.

"Where'd you get this bacon?" He asked finally.

"Walmart, same place I always do," I said earnestly.

"Same brand?"

"Yes!" I said desperately.

"I think I'm going to order some take out, I can't finish this," he said making a disgusted face. My stomach dropped. I felt fury fill inside me. He'd never made me truly angry before. I couldn't believe he so arbitrarily thrown that out as if it wouldn't break my heart.

I balled up my napkin. I didn't want to shout at him. I walked into the living room, hugging myself and taking deep breaths.

"I'm sorry, that was a really rude thing to say," he said, coming after me.

"I'm really mad Timothée, I've never, I mean l've never been truly mad at you before. I don't know how you could just say that. You know how I feel about cooking for you."

"I'm so sorry Mon amour, it's never happened before so I didn't know how to say it. I should've been kinder," he said and wrapped me in his arms.

"Promise you haven't been lying to me this whole time?"

"I swear on my life, this is the only thing that's ever tasted bad. It's probably my fault, maybe my taste buds are ruined or something," he said and crossed his eyes looking down at his tongue. I giggled.

We went back into the kitchen. I prepared to take my first bite of the burger while Timmy ordered.

"Oh my gosh," | grimaced and spit out the bite. Timothée looked at me in surprise.

"What the hell did I do?" l asked.

"Okay so l'm not crazy?" He asked.

"No, this is putrid," I said and stalked to the refrigerator.

"Aha! It wasn't me technically, the bacon is past its due date," I crowed.

"I knew it couldn't be you, you're the perfect cook," he chuckled and came to hug me.

[topazy]

Inside, outside

Pairing: 10k x reader

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of blood and brains

Chapter: 5.06

After bringing the quad bike to a complete stop when you spot a deserted-looking warehouse, 10k jumps off the back first, and immediately you’re missing the warmth of his arm wrapped around your waist. With the sling of his gun over his shoulder, he offers you his hand to help you climb off. If 10K wasn’t a gentleman before, people would probably be catching onto how protective he was being.

You, 10K, Warren, Murphy, and Addy had gone to find the source of bizkit’s and why they seemed to be low rations of it, while Doc and George headed back to Altura to keep an eye on Dante’s trial.

“Is that the bakery? The place looks abandoned.”

“It doesn’t mean nobody is home,” Warren points out.

The five of you stand on the edge of a small hill that leads down to the pathway into the building. The side of the hill was mainly covered in rubble, preventing any vehicles from driving on it.

Murphy looks lost in thought; a look of distress appears on his face. You lightly hit his arm to gain his attention. “Are you okay?”

“I smell brains.”

“This must be the place, then.”

When the five of you started making your way down the path, you were being extra cautious not to trip while walking on such a rocky surface. 10k stays in front of you and continues to glance back, ready to catch you if you do fall.

Murphy walks by you at a normal pace and scoffs, “You two make me feel sick.”

“Just keep walking, Alvin.”

“My biggest fear is losing you. When you were kidnapped, I realized how much I loved you and that there was nothing I wouldn't do to find you,” Murphy says mockingly. “You're my best friend, Tommy, and there's not a line I wouldn't cross to keep you safe.”

10k glares at him and warningly snaps, “Shut the hell up.”

Addy, who’s standing at the bottom, already looks up in confusion. “What is he talking about?”

“Nothing.”

In a high-pitched fake girly voice, Murphy says, “I knew our fates were intertwined.“

“I swear to god!” You knew Murphy was looking for a reaction, and usually you wouldn’t take the bait too easily, but he had been teasing you since you left for this new task.

“Don’t get wound up; he’s not worth the reaction,” 10k says calmly, but as soon as you reach the bottom where the others are waiting, he presses the long side of his rifle against Murphy’s collarbone, pushing him into the wall. “Lay the fuck off Murphy.”

“Jeez, lighten up, kid.”

10k steps back.

Warren clicks her fingers. “All of you, focus.”

Once you checked, nobody else was in sight. You round the corner, and Addy breaks the lock on the door, giving you all access to the building.

—

The inside of the building stinks of rotten meat, which is explained when you find human skulls and parts of rotten brains scattered across various baking trays.

The group had split up, but you could see both Addy and 10k going to check out the same area. It saddened you that they no longer had a close relationship, and you felt partially responsible for it, but then it was your sister who left. Since they last saw each other, Addy had lost an eye, and 10k had lost his hand, and they could have leaned on each other for support.

“Astra, I’m really sorry, but it looks like she left during the night.”

You shake your head, refusing to believe it. “No, no. Something is wrong; Addy wouldn’t just go without leaving me. She wouldn’t do that.”

When you awoke in the morning to find Addy gone, you assumed she had gone hunting, but when she never returned, a couple of hours later, you, 10k, and Red went looking for her, but you couldn’t find her. You returned to your home to see if she had returned.

Red links her fingers with yours and gives you a sympathetic look. “All her stuff is gone.”

You squeeze your eyes shut to hold back tears. Addy only found you in the first place while looking for someone else. “She’s gone to find Lucy,” you say, clearing your throat. “We should go and let Tommy know; I don’t want him out there looking for someone who doesn’t want to be found.”

You aim your gun in the direction of something being crushed and slowly make your way over to a large mixer, which appears to have turned on itself. You look inside it and almost gag at seeing more skulls.

“You guys seeing this? This place is gross.”

When you don’t get a reply, you spin around to see Warren staring at something with a concerned look on her face. She notices you looking and waves you over. When you do, you see what the problem is.

“Eh Murphy, are you good? You’re practically drooling over a skull?”

“Yeah,” he quickly shrugs your comment off. “This place just gives me the munchies.”

All of a sudden, a man appears and starts firing at the three of you. Quickly, you jump out of the way to avoid being shot and accidentally scrape your stomach on something sharp. You duck behind one of the metal tables and, taking a few deep breaths, look down to see blood appearing on your top.

No, no, no.

Murphy crawls over beside you and says, “What the hell are you doing? We gotta keep moving.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know I just—fuck.”

“Did you get shot?”

“No, I’ve just cut my stomach.” The cut wasn’t deep, and you were sure it hadn’t harmed the baby, but it gave you one hell of a fright. Between deep breaths, you start mumbling to yourself, “Tommy is going to freak.”

Seeing how afraid you are, something clicks in Murphy, and he gives you a look of understanding. He knows. Quietly, he says, “Stay behind me; we are going to make a run for it.”

You nod, and the two of you manage to run behind a different spot without being shot.

—

“I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if you try anything stupid.” You say, aiming at the man who was previously trying to kill your head.

While he chases Murphy and Warren off from either side, the man seemed to not care that much about weapons being so close to his head. “It looks like we’ve got ourselves a zombie standoff. You have me; I got him, and my brothers got all three of you.”

You glance around the room; it was more than likely that 10k or Addy had gotten to his brother first.

“We are looking for bizkits,” Warren says. “We have starving talkers that are starting to turn.”

“We are just trying to survive ourselves, and it’s crooks like you who have shut down the bakery and turned us into a bunch of dirty dogs. So lower your weapons and kindly waltz out of here, or we’re all going to be crawling brains.”

“Look, I don’t know who you think we are, but we aren’t them.”

“That’s what the last bunch said before they started shooting.”

You didn’t doubt the man’s story for a second; the bakery was covered in a red mist of blood. A door creaks open, and Addy and 10k bring out another man, whom you assume is the brother with a gun at his back.

“Listen,” you lower your weapon slightly, “your brother is still human, and I know you want to keep it that way. Just tell us what we want to know, and nobody else will get hurt.”

The man gulps down, “So, you're in need of some help?”

—

While the older man, Gilly, looks at his younger brother, Skull's nose, which was cut by your sister 10K, pulls you aside and grips a hold of the bottom of your top, “What the hell happened? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine; it’s just a cut.”

He holds your gaze. “Are you sure?”

“We’ll be fine.”

You return to your group just in time to hear Gilly explain that it was their mom who invited bizkits to save their brother, who had been bitten, but then the brother bit the mom when they ran out. And since the bombing, someone has been attacking the bakery so they won’t continue making them. Their mom had turned two weeks ago, and she was the only one who had the recipe.

You look up at the window of the office overlooking the rest of the bakery and see multiple talkers that have turned.

—

Murphy stands up a table, holds up a radio, and turns the music up to distract the talkers while Skull sneaks inside to get the recipe. The plan was going well until Skull tripped and fell and was bitten by their zombified brother right after their mom ate the recipe.

“I hate to say it, but the only way to keep them from turning might be to feed them actual brains.”

From the doorway at the far side of the room, multiple heavy footsteps can be heard, along with snarling and hissing. All the noise must have attracted the nearby Z’s from outside. Thankfully, only a small number of them came into the building.

You run up behind one of the Z’s and stab it in the head before shooting another two. You notice Addy and 10k working together to take out Z's, which makes you smile.

Warren cuts the head off one and tosses it to Gilly.

You stand behind 10k and bury your face into his back, not wanting to witness Gilly crushing the skull, then cutting up the brains, and then feeding them to the walkers.

When the talkers return to normal, the mom flirts with a creeped-out Murphy, kissing him on the cheek before continuing to help.

—

Sitting with your legs dangling over the edge of a table, you watch as the brothers bag up the last of the bizkits. Hearing a whistling noise, you look over to Murphy, who was trying and failing to be discreet by waving you and 10k over to him, then looking away.

You and 10k stand on either side of him. “What’s going on?”

“I just wanted to say...” he trails off while tracing patterns in the flour scattered across the table with his finger. Murphy's jaw clenches slightly. “I don’t like either of you, but I do think you will be great parents, even lefty over here.”

With that, he turns and quickly walks away. You share a confused look with 10k. “Did you tell him?”

“No, but I think he figured it out.”

Ultimately, you’d need to tell the others the truth sooner than later. 10k smiles and brushes strands of hair out of your face. “Go for it.”

“Uh, guys, we’ve got something we need to tell you.”

Warren and Addy step a little closer, and you try not to laugh, seeing the worried look on their faces.

“Tommy and I are having a baby.”

[jasntodds]

Petrichor [1]

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader (little bit of fwb)

Words: 9,133

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, talks of drug addiction

Summary: ❝Pylades: I’ll take care of you. Orestes: It’s rotten work. Pylades: Not to me. Not if it’s you.❞

Gotham is home, not just for Jason but for you, too. And now that you’re both finally back home, together, you’re ready to see where this next chapter brings the two of you. He’s your best friend and you’re his. And you both might want a little something more with being back home, the place you both feel most comfortable. Surely, nothing could possibly go wrong now.

A/N: It’s finally here!! I promise this book will be more fun than previous one and it stays mostly canon besides a few things, so have fun lol I really hope you guys like this!! If you want context from book 1, let me know and I’ll tell you!! You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary​ and turn on notifications if you prefer that!! I love feedback, I swear it keeps me posting on a weekly basis 😭

series masterlist | masterlist | tag list

Being back in Gotham is almost surreal. When you were uprooted over a year ago, you weren’t sure if you’d ever make it back. Hell, you didn’t think you’d ever make it out of that basement, let alone back home. But, here you are. You’re back in Gotham and there’s a weight that is lifted from your shoulders.

You knew you missed it but you didn’t realize how much until now, standing outside of Wayne Manor. This isn’t even your home, the Manor, but it is a staple in Gotham. You thought maybe you would miss San Francisco and want to go back after a week or so, but right now, you’re positive that won’t be the case. This is home.

And then there’s Jason who’s standing confidently with a content smile pulling at his face. You have Jason here. You swears you’re happier around him, no matter where you are. He makes the world better, your world. You’ve only known each other a few months now but it feels like you’ve been friends your entire lives and you wouldn’t trade him for anything. You are so happy to be here with him.

“Want the tour?” Jason asks, carrying your bag for you and he’s got this sly grin, the one you’ve missed more than you thought possible.

“Of Wayne Manor, hell yeah, lead the way.” Your smile is so bright and Jason missed you, too.

This is his home. A part of him still isn’t exactly used to it. He’s not sure if he ever will be entirely, it’s not exactly him but it’s his home. And he’s welcoming you right into it because, despite his inhabitations and the paranoia that leaks into the brightest parts of his mind, he knows he can trust you with his home. With those parts of himself and he is just so happy to have you here with him. Just him.

Jason gestures an arm out forward, ushering you forward and the two of you walk inside. Jason leads you to your room first to set your bag down. He opens the door for you and allows you inside while he leans against the doorframe, sticking his hands in his front pockets. You walk in, looking around and taking the room in. He’s missed you.

It’s only been a month but it’s felt like the longest month of his life. Jason knew he missed you, that was undeniable. But, he didn’t realize just how much until he picked you up from Titans Tower. He saw you and the smile that split his face was uncontrollable. He remembers that day he left with Rose, how you wanted to convince him to stay but you didn’t because you didn’t want to be selfish. He gets it now because he wanted to ask you if you’d come back with him sooner, when he left with Bruce. That’s not fair to Gar and he knows that and he’d never ask you to pick between the two of them. But he wishes he would have anyway because a month away from you feels like an eternity.

“What do ya think?” Jason asks, his voice has this warmth to it that you’ve never heard before. You wonder if the warmth is because this is home and Titans Tower always felt like a hotel.

“It’s big.” You laugh. “Of course it is. And it’s dark and moody, very on brand for fucking Batman.” You roll your eyes, putting your bag down on the bed.

“Yeah, it’s his thing.” Jason chortles. “I’m right down the hall.” Jason jerks his head to the left.

“You’re always right down the hall. Can’t stand to be that far away from me, huh?” You give him a smirk with the wiggle of your brows.

Jason feels the blush creep across his face. “You came here with me, babe.” Jason quips and he’s missed this, too. You don’t play the game over text.

You rolls your eyes but your smile is starting to hurt your cheeks. “You gave me no choice, shithead.”

“You wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Yeah, okay.” You look down to your shoes and back to Jason before walking up to him. “Tour?”

“Come on.” Jason pushes himself off the doorframe and the two of you start the tour.

Jason leads you around the manor, showing you the living rooms and kitchens because of course, there’s more than one of both. He shows you the several bathrooms and an in-home gym and training room. Jason ends the tour though, with his favorite room of the house, the library. He opens the doors with confidence, walking right inside to allow you to follow him.

You look around, seeing large library shelves holding tons of books. There are windows against the wall facing you and a couch up against it with a small coffee table right in front of the window. The couch is the same as the ones in all the living rooms. Bruce definitely has a theme. Dark and moody. Jason’s smile is soft as he looks at you.

“You would end the tour here.” You state softly.

“You surprised?”

“Not even a little bit.” You smile softly at him because he didn’t need to show the room to you. You don’t like to read but he did anyway, because it’s his thing. “Favorite room?”

Jason nods. “Yeah, spend a lot of time in here or training.” Jason’s eyes look up with the last word.

“Of course.” You laugh softly. “It’s cool.”

Jason shrugs a shoulder. “Yeah, it is.”

He looks content, comfortable. There’s an easiness about him here. Back at the tower, he seemed on edge a lot, even before Deathstroke. He always had this wall that, everyone would argue wasn’t worth the effort to knock down, but you never had any issues. It was a wall though, a sturdy brick wall that was completely unmovable. But, here, right now, he looks so content and comfortable. No one would ever know the horrors he’s experienced by looking at him right now.

You walk up to him. “How are you?” You point a finger to your head. “Ya know?”

“I’m fine.” Jason shrugs the question off. He doesn’t wanna go there today. “How’re you?”

“You sure?” You ask and you’re just checking on him. “Happy to be back.” You answer so simply that Jason’s heart explodes in warmth.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Jason urges, the smile splits his face. “You look happy.” Jason chuckles softly.

It feels different. Getting on the plane and you telling him about some of the Titans stuff he's missed. It feels different but in a good way. It’s like with the tower, there was all this added pressure for the both of you. Expectations to be something more than what you both were dealt. And there were the feelings you had for Gar that Jason tried his best to tip-toe around. But right now, you get to exist together outside of those expectations. He is Robin and he gets to be Robin like he has been. You get to just exist in a home. It is comfortable, already and you have each other. It feels different but in a way Jason’s never quite felt before.

“Wanna get some food?” Jason asks.

“You hitting me on, Jay?” The corner of your mouth twitches into a teasing smirk.

It’s the game the two of you love so much. This time though, there isn’t anything standing in your way to actually play the game how Jason wants to. A little more contact, make the game a little more thrilling.

“Got a problem with it?” Jason smirks back, taking a step forward, closing the short distance between you.

You narrow your eyes and you’re surprised by the comment but you would never have a problem with it. “Well, if I’m gonna get good out of it, I guess not.”

Jason laughs. “Oh, so you’re using me for food, huh?”

“I do like food, Jay.”

“Wow.” Jason nods his head dramatically. “Didn’t think you’d use me. I’m so hurt.”

“Shut up.” You groan, rolling your eyes. “Where we going?”

“I’ll make burgers.” Jason holds a prideful grin.

“You can cook?” You quip.

“Hell yeah, I can cook.” Jason gestures his hands towards himself as if you should have always know. You’ve never seen him cook anything more than a breakfast sandwich and an omelet.

“Well, make me food!” You fake whine at him.

“Well, since you asked so fucking nicely.” Jason scoffs but his grin holds steady.

The two of you head to the kitchen that leads out into the back courtyard. That’s another thing you’re somehow surprised by. Of course, there’s a courtyard, but it’s shocking nonetheless. It’s so weird being here and being able to live here. You wonder how Jason ever adjusted because you’re not sure you can. But, you don’t say anything to Jason, instead, you watch him grab burgers from the fridge which were very clearly previously prepared and you think it’s sweet. Jason already had food prepped and there’s something so incredibly kind and thoughtful about it, it’s almost surprising. But, you still say nothing and instead just watch him fire up the grill once you both get outside.

“So,” You ask from your spot at the outdoor table. “How’s Gotham been?”

“Bruce is letting me be Robin some more.” Jason boasts, flipping one of the burgers.

“Really? That’s awesome, Jay. I’m happy for you.”

“Yeah, it’s been great.” Jason’s smile is warm and tender. “Went on Patrol last night.”

Jason wasn’t really sure if Bruce would let him after the whole Deathstroke fiasco. He thought maybe Bruce would want him to take some more time off and learn his lesson about going off on his own. But, Bruce let him right back out with him.

“How’d it go?”

“Great,” Jason holds his head with pride and he neglects to tell you it hasn’t been going that well every other night. “Took down some of Penguin’s men.”

“Oh, he’s still doing his Penguin thing?”

“Yeah.” Jason chortles. “Still making everyone else do the dirty work so his hands stay clean.”

“Gotta give it to him, smart.” You let out a laugh. 

Jason looks over with a scrunched nose. “Siding with a bad guy now? You alright?” Jason can’t help but laugh because he agrees with you. It’s Penguin, sure he does some fucked up shit sometimes, but usually, he’s the least of their problems.

“No, I’m just saying. If more of the fucks did what Penguin does, they wouldn’t get caught.”

“We still catch Penguin.” Jason points the spatula at you.

“Yeah, but not nearly as often as guys like Mr. Freeze or even Scarecrow. Scarecrow got people to do his shit, too sure, but the whole Fear Gas really pinned him.” You point a finger at him to mock him but Jason’s brows furrow as he looks at you with confusion. “What?”

“Don’t like Batman but you sure know a lot of the bad guys, huh?” Jason teases.

“Fuck Batman.” You let out a laugh and you decide to throw him a bone, just to see him get all flustered. “I like Robin though.”

Jason feels the heat creep onto his cheeks again and he turns away in hopes you don’t notice. You do though and your stomach swarms. He’s cute when he’s flustered.

“Suit do it for ya?” Jason manages to get out as he flips the burgers.

“It’s the eye shadow and the cape.” 

“Shut up!” Jason groans through a laugh, tilting his head back.

“Look at you, being a batboy again though.” You tease with the scrunch of your nose and maybe that’s why he seems like he’s in such a good mood. Robin means everything to him. 

“Alright.” Jason shakes his head and you drive him crazy in the best way possible. “How was being a Titan?” He looks over at you.

“Pretty good.” You shrug. “We took down part of some illegal gun trading ring.”

“Yeah?” Jason perks up with the comment.

“Mhm, pretty cool. We didn’t get all of them, Dick was figuring out a plan to get all of them when I left but yeah, it was pretty cool.” You offer him a soft smile.

It was definitely cool being a Titan. You felt useful. You were going something good and helping people with your friends. It didn’t feel like you were wasting away anymore. It was as if you had some sort of purpose even if it also felt draining. Fighting and taking down these guys is fun, thrilling, and empowering. But, you aren’t sure that’s the best thing for you right now. The paranoia is still in the front of your mind, worried about it backfiring one day. You know it’s not best to be a Titan or a vigilante at all for right now. You want to feel normal for at least a little bit before getting back into it. You’re so certain you will be getting back into it, just after a little time.

“Use your powers?” Jason asks, plucking one of the burgers from the grill and putting it on a plate.

“Knives and fists, actually.” You hold your head up high.

“Why don’t you use your powers? You have them.” Jason continues to place the rest of the burgers onto the plate.

You shrug. “I dunno.” You let out a sigh. “I don’t like the acid.” You watch as Jason walks over to the table, placing the plate right in the middle amongst the condiments and buns. Jason hands you a plate. “Thanks.”

“Is it because of Jerry?” Jason asks, grabbing you a bun and handing it to you.

“Yeah, like…using it means he still won, ya know?” You use a pair of tongs to put a burger onto your bun while Jason gets his plate ready.

“He didn’t though, you beat the shit out of him and he’s locked up. You won.” Jason takes a seat with his food, right next to you rather than across the table.

“Yeah, I know but…” You pause, grabbing one of the condiments. “Using them just reminds me of everything he did to me and that it’s his fault. With the clairvoyance, I can’t help it. So, that’s fine and that protects me but the acid…I don’t have to use it.” You clear your throat. “There’s also that whole thing about getting kidnapped, ya know? Bit worried that might happen again if someone knows.”

The only people you know with powers are the Titans. But, it seems they’re the ones getting kidnapped for having powers. Rachel was basically being hunted for sport, Gar did get kidnapped, and Conner was made in a test tube then kidnapped because of it. You’re pretty content not using your powers if that’s the risk you’re taking. You do not want to be locked in another basement. Over your dead body. Then, there is Jerry. He won if you use them. He gave them to you against your will. He doesn’t get to win. You escaped him and nearly killed him. He gets to lose.

“Yeah,” Jason sucks in a breath. “Kidnapping shit is a good point.” Jason lets out a scoff.

You’ve been held captive twice in under two years. You have a point and Jason can’t say he blames you. And you witnessed that be the reason for Gar being kidnapped and tortured, and brainwashed. Jason knows enough about what Jerry did to you to understand your resistance and hesitance with using your powers. He does, however, wish you weren’t scared because they could protect you. But, he keeps that to himself because he can’t dispute your fear and that’s not his place to do so. He is, however, certain he’d go to the ends of the Earth to find you if ever happened again.

“Fuck that piece of shit though. If you ever want to use your powers, you should out of spite.” Jason states. “It’s like a fuck you to him. He gave you powers so he could have them and now he gets to rot the fuck away in prison.”

“Thank you, Jay.” You let out a soft laugh. “You’ve got a point.” You do like the idea of spite. There is no better fuel than spite sometimes.

“I always have a point.” Jason chuckles, adding mustard to his burger while you take a bite of your burger.

“Okay.” You swallow. “Why is this the best burger I’ve ever had?” Of all things Jason Todd can do, cooking seems to be the weirdest. Theater nerd, bookworm, chef?

“I told you I can cook.” Jason holds a triumphant smile.

“Seriously? How? How do you know how to cook?!”

There’s a sad smile that crosses his lips as he takes his own bite. “My mom.” Jason swallows. “I used to cook for us. She was always high out of her fucking mind so it was I cook or we both starve.” Jason shrugs his shoulders. “You get creative when you don’t have more than a handful of shit that’s actually edible.”

“You took care of her?” You ask, your voice gentle.

You never asked about his mom. It didn’t seem like a topic he’d ever want to discuss. You never want to talk about your dad. But, you’ve been through so much shit together, you don’t think any question could possibly be off limits between the two of you. And Jason taking care of his mom actually makes perfect sense. That explains a lot about him.

Jason nods softly. “Yeah,” He shrugs a shoulder. “She was my mom.”

“I kind of thought you hated her.” You state honestly, you hate your dad so you always figured Jason hated his mom. But it was different. While Jason’s mom was an addict, she at least didn’t abandon him.

“No.” Jason shakes his head. “I’m mad because fucking drugs, right? Why the fuck wasn’t I good enough for her? To quit, get help, or some shit. But, I don’t hate her. I always took care of her.”

No one really gets that part of him. To have no hatred for his mom, of all people. Every day, she’d pick drugs over him. She’d date her dealers who were always terrible people. A lot of them abused Jason and his mom either did not care because she got a discount on whatever her drug of choice was at the time or she was so far gone, she didn’t even notice. But, it was the two of them a lot and it was his job to take care of her, even if it never should have been. She was his mom.

“That’s nice of you and honestly, good for you. It never should have been your responsibility.”

“Yeah, but it was.” Jason scoffs. “How about you?” Jason jerks his head up towards you in a quick motion. His mom is still sore spot for him, though. “Like, do you ever…wish you knew your dad?”

Jason never asked about your dad because he does, hate his dad. Jason lived with his mom because his dad was down and out. A part of Jason didn’t blame him. Addicts aren’t easy to be with but Jason was a kid. He never should have been left alone to take care of his mom. And when he did see his dad, sometimes he’s get mad because Jason’s always had a smart mouth, always been a troublemaker, and his dad would snap sometimes. Jason doesn’t have a grudge against him, but he doesn’t like him either. So, he never asked.

Your brows furrow as you continue to eat your burger. “I don’t know. Not really. I only saw him once, he came to yell at my mom. It was something about her not letting him see me or something. He shoved her and he was high as fuck. Never showed up again. Like, I wish I knew him but he also picked drugs over me and I don’t want someone who’s gonna pick drugs over me in my life. Even if it’s to tell him to go fuck himself.” You shrug. “I think I just want to know why but not enough to look for him or even hear him out if he shows up. Not worth my time.”

Jason lets out a soft chuckle and that’s something he gets. He wanted to know why his dad was the way he was but it wasn’t worth it to ask. It wouldn’t have made the situation better. It wouldn’t have changed anything. It probably would have made things worse.

“Dads, right?” Jason lets out a scoff.

“Yeah.” You scoff and for a second, you think that at least he has Bruce. Bruce might not be the best by a long shot, but he at least cares about him. “Anyway,” You sigh. “This is seriously really good.” You smile at him. “I think you should cook for me all the time.” You beam.

“Oh, now you want me to be your personal chef?” Jason quips.

“You’re so good at it, Jay.” You lean in closer to him, batting your eyelashes and Jason’s heart stops in his chest. Maybe he misses that feeling, too.

“Kissing my ass?” Jason’s brows wave at you.

“Is it working?” Your smile turns cheeky.

“You could keep going.”

You let out a booming laugh, sitting back up in your chair. “I missed you so fucking much.”

“Yeah, I missed you, too.” Jason chuckles softly.

You make him feel so at ease with everything. He’s haunted and damaged and a little bit of a mess, but he doesn’t feel any of those things with you. He just feels like Jason Todd. And that is refreshing. And he misses your laugh and the way your eyes crinkle at the corners when you smiles at him. He missed the way his heart likes to do summersaults around you and the taunting smirks you give him. He missed the easiness you provide.

“Alright, how’re things, really?” Jason asks, sitting back in his chair, nudging your knee with his.

Your brows furrow. “What do you mean?”

“Nightmares, training.” Jason answers as smoothly as he can.

Maybe he’s been asking about you. You don’t lie to him but you omit information and Jason’s not mad about it. He never could be. He does it, too but with him not being at the tower, maybe he’s asked Gar and Dick a few times how you've been. They tell him point blank. At the end of the day, Gar and Dick know the two of you are the only ones who could ever get through to each other. So, when Jason asks, they tell him.

You pause, looking at him and how does he know that? Jason shows he cares in different ways than most people. Like, for example, he doesn’t tell them. That’s too much, too real. Instead, he does things for them. But this, for him to know that, he’d have to be asking about you. Of course, he could have figured it out. If anyone knows you the best, it would be him but the way he said it, you’re positive that’s not it.

“You asking about me?”

Jason shrugs. “And what if I am?”

You want to combust. You both tiptoe around the inevitable conversation. It’s bound to happen one way or another. But it’s day one in Gotham and neither of you want to go there yet. So, you dodge the game, just for that question.

“Yeah, I, uh, I don’t know.” You shrug. “Most nights I wake up from a nightmare. I don’t really like to sleep anymore.” You chew the inside of your cheek.

Jason looks at you and he hates that for you. But he doesn’t really sleep either. Deathstroke has permanently destroyed parts of him and that includes the ability to get any real sleep. “You gotta find a way to sleep.”

“Yeah,” You scoff. “But then I can’t sleep anyway so I train instead. But clearly, you knew that.” You widen your eyes at him. “Clears my head. Sometimes I can sleep a little after.”

“Same nightmares as before?”

“With the added attack of the tower, Gar dying. Lots of me dying, lots of me being the one who kills you and Gar. I don’t know.”

“I’m sorry.” Jason apologizes and he wants to do something that’ll help but he doesn’t know what. Not anything outside the routine you had fallen into at the tower. “Hey, uh, as long as you try to fucking sleep, you can always come into my room when you have a nightmare. I can read to you like before.” Jason offers, going back to his food to intentionally avoid looking at you.

You adore him with every piece of you. If you didn’t know any better, you’d swear the sun revolved around him. “Thanks, Jay. Might have to take you up on it.” You laugh softly. “How’re yours?”

“Who said I’m having nightmares?”

You shrug. “Just have a feeling.” You’ve had texts from him at all hours of the day and night. If he weren’t having nightmares, he’d be sleeping at some point.

Jason sucks in a breath. “Same shit. Deathstroke. Someone chasing me around the manor with a gun. They shoot me and I wake up before I die, I guess. Shit's fucked.” Jason lets out a scoff.

“I’m sorry.” You nudge his leg with her knee and a sense of worry comes over you. That’s a new nightmare and you wonder if it’s getting worse instead of better. “My room will always be open for you, too.” You offer a soft smile.

“Thanks.” Jason chuckles softly.

“You and me.” You go back to your food and Jason swears he only ever wants it to be him and you.

“You and me.” Jason repeats.

As you and Jason finish your conversation, Bruce comes home. He greets you with a kind smile and a hello. He asked how the flight was. You explain that it was good and you’re very thankful and appreciative that he is allowing you to stay at the Manor. You’re still pretty sure it’s just a favor to Jason and not just out of the kindness of his heart. But, you’ll definitely take what you can get. Gotham is home and this is allowing you to be home, with your best friend.

The rest of the day goes by and you find yourself exploring the Manor with Jason until Bruce Bruce needed Jason for something Batman-related. So, you got to occupy yourself for some of the day. You did text Gar and let him know you landed and everything was good. You promised you’d keep in touch. This is nice though. There’s something that feels so good about it and you actually feel a little more at ease. You felt at home enough in San Francisco, at the tower with everyone, but not like this. This feels like it will be home again in such a specific way. It makes you so happy.

Later that night, Jason finds you in the living room, scrolling through your phone. He’s just gotten back from patrol with Bruce and it didn’t go too well. And the only thing he wants to do is sit down with you, forget about it entirely. And you’re completely oblivious to him standing in the doorway. But, he has a soft smile daunting his face. He’s so happy to have you here. The world doesn’t feel so heavy with you here now.

“Hey.” Jason greets you, plopping down right beside you, nearly sitting on you.

“Excuse the fuck outta you.” You snap your head in his direction, but you don’t move away. You get a look at a purple bruise hugging his jaw and blues circling his right eye, kissing the skin.

“What’re you doing?” Jason questions, looking over at your phone.

You jerk your phone away, furrowing your brows at him. He’s so nosy. “Well, I was scrolling through Instagram until you sat on me.”

“I didn’t sit on you, I sat next to you.” Jason smirks at you.

“Your big ass thigh is literally on my leg.” You point to him barely on you. You poke his leg, hard, and he doesn’t move, just laughs. His leg is strong against yours, it nearly hurts your finger with the poke.

“Are you complaining?” His eyes darken and he’s giving you that troubled smirk of his that sets your entire body on fire.

“You’re heavy, yes.” You shove him with a laugh and Jason barely even moves.

“Seriously, you have got to do better than that, babe.”

“Fine.” You yank your leg from him with very little effort and swing both of your legs over him, leaning your back against the arm of the couch.

“That did so much.” Jason chortles. He rests his hands on your shins, tapping with his thumbs and you shake your head.

Jason’s been…touchy today. The two of you have always joked and played chicken with each other. You’re always the chicken. But, today, he’s very touchy.  When walking around the Manor, he'd reach for your hand or put his hand on the small of your back to guide you through the courtyard. And you don’t mind but you’re wondering why that is. What changed in the month you’ve been a part that Jason is suddenly touchy? And Jason knows he’s doing it. A part of him is doing it because it’s just you. He doesn’t have to worry about overstepping his best friend anymore. You can play this game the way Jason likes to play. A little more contact, make the game of chicken a little more thrilling. And the other part of him, wants to see where it’ll actually go. For real this time, despite everything.

“But I have won because this is comfortable.” You give him a large toothy grin and Jason does that crooked smile, where he’s almost biting his bottom lip, like he’s thinking something mischievous. And you swear he’s the prettiest person you've ever met.

Jason leans forward, plucking the book off the coffee table in front of the two of you. You watch him carefully over your phone. Jason lifts his legs up, yours still on top of his, and rests his feet on the coffee table before opening the book where he has a piece of paper as a book mark. The bruise on his jaw shines against the low light, moving with his jaw as he swallows. You find yourself thinking you like the way the bruises always look on his skin. He looks perfect even with the blacks and blues and purples and reds. But, the other part of you, hates that he’s covered in bruises. He never should be.

You sit all the way up and move closer to him, placing your fingers on his jaw. Jason’s heart stutters in his chest but he lets you finish. You turn his face so you can get a look at the bruises that hug his jaw and paint his opposite eye. Your touch is so gentle and tender, Jason isn’t sure if he’d ever get used to it. It’s been so long since he’s felt this, he almost wants to jump right out of his skin. But, he doesn’t dare move because despite his better judgement, he likes when you’re like this. It’s a side of you no one else ever really get to see and it makes him feel wanted.

“What happened?” You ask softly.

Jason is like a graphite drawing, small details in colored pencil. Messy and decorated with shades of blues and purples. But beautiful and soft. Despite the messy smudges and the accidental hard edges and hand prints, he’s so beautiful. He is this beautiful graphite masterpiece that you think should be on display everywhere. There is an effortless about him and ease about him. He pays those purple and blue splotches no mind as the corner of his mouth quirks into his signature grin. He’s so unbothered and pretty. The graphite isn’t damaged or too messy, the smudges make him…him.

“Dickweed got a few lucky hits in.” Jason scoffs and there’s a tiny bit of arrogance that flashes across his eyes. “Got ‘em back though.” Jason wiggles his brows and you brush your thumb over the bruise on his jaw line before shaking your head.

“Of course you did.” You laugh softly, pulling your hand away and Jason just almost grabs your hand back.

You knew you missed him. That was obvious every single day. A coldness came over like the first cold front of the winter. Expected but disappointing anyway. You didn’t know you missed this much. You had no idea you gave him this part of yourself and he took it back to Gotham with him. You think of the Iron Giant, how when he blew up and parts of himself went everywhere, his parts echoed, finding home. You think that’s how your heart is with him. He has a part of it, maybe without even knowing, and your heart beats and aches until you’re with him. You never realized that’s what the pain was until now, now that’s it gone.

You, instead of going back to his face, wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into you. The hug catches him off guard, you hug him but there’s usually some bigger reason behind it. Deathstroke, almost dying twice, leaving, meeting again. There’s usually something bigger there but Jason doesn’t get the sense that’s what this hug is for. So, he reaches up and hugs you back.

You scare him. Jason Todd is not supposed to be scared of anything and lately fear has been taking over his life. And he’s scared of you, but not in that petrifying and paralyzing way that’ll get him killed one day. He’s scared because you’ve been here before and he backed out. He pushed and ran and then you ran. You’re runners and pushers, it’s embedded so tightly through your DNA, Jason doesn’t think anything would ever stop either of you. And he’s so scared to let himself exist with you in the way he so desperately wants to. He could never handle you leaving him and he couldn’t handle hurting you. So, he pulls away, not too far, but enough to look at you.

“What’s up?” Jason asks, his eyes darting over your face and his expression is careful, desperate not to give away the ache of his chest.

You shake your head, biting the inside of your cheek. “Can’t hug you?”

“Always got a reason.” The corner of his mouth twitches up but it’s sad. If someone hugs him, even you, there’s usually a reason.

”I just missed you.” You shrug your shoulders with ease.

Jason can feel the heat creeping onto his face. “You’ve said like six fucking times today.” Jason lets out this laugh that you swear is better than any sound you’ve ever heard before. “I knew you wanted me, but fuck.”

“Shut the fuck up.” You let out a groan but you can’t get the smile to fall from your face. “Want you.” You scoff. “You’re the one who wants me.”

The smirk dances across Jason’s face. “Babe, if I wanted you, I’d have you.”

“Yeah, okay.” You roll your eyes. “Like to see you fucking try, Jay.” You taunt and there’s nothing hold you back from it now. You aren’t a Titan right now. There’s no Gar or Rose. It’s literally just the two of you for the first time since you’ve known each other. And you see Jason pause and you’ve won. “Mhm, exactly. I win.” You hum triumphantly, leaning back against the arm of the couch and Jason doesn’t take losing gently.

If this is game you want to play, he’ll play ball. No one else is here anyway. Jason gets this darkness that crosses his eyes and you do is smile to yourself proudly, going back to looking at your phone. You’re positive, for once, he doesn’t have a come back. But, Jason sticks his finger in his book and stretches his right arm out, grabbing the collar of your hoodie and pulling you forward, bringing you an inch from his face.

Your eyes nearly bug out of your head, your breath catches in the very back of your throat. You swear you can taste your heartbeat in your mouth. Your stomach flips upside down, your bones feel like they’re turning to jell-o. How the fuck does he do that? His eyes are forest green in the low light of the living room and you swears it’s your favorite color now. That specific shade of green that should be named after Jason, himself.

Jason’s eyes dart between your eyes and your lips, he’s doing it on purpose. Jason does everything with intention. Impulsive? Yes. But, he has a purpose for everything that he does. He’s careful even when he’s impulsive.

“Mhm, exactly.” Jason’s voice is low, mocking you.

You finally let out a breath and look to his lips. For a split second, just a fraction of a second, you knows that if you close that distance, he loses. You’re picking up this game of chicken as if no time has passed and it feels like no time has passed. It feels like it did before Gar, before Rose, before Deathstroke. It feels like it did before shit hit the fan. And you know if you do something about it now, you’ll win. And you want to do it so badly, but you aren’t sure you want to be the one to do it this time. And, you like the cocky and arrogant smirk he gets when he wins.

“Fuck you.” You finally get the bitter words out of your mouth and Jason’s grin switches to cockiness, a triumphant win he doesn’t realize was handed to him.

Jason lets go of the collar of your hoodie, you falling back against the arm of the couch. “I win.”

“You’re so obnoxious.” You let out a whine and Jason sees the genuine smile pulling at the right side of your mouth.

“Just the way you like me.” Jason chortles, leaning back in his seat.

You almost tell him. But, you don’t think you actually have to. The both of you know. Neither of you are that obvious. You both already know there’s more here. Jason saw the way you were with Gar compared to how you are with him and he’s not so oblivious to not realize why even if it’s hard to believe. And you saw how he was with Rose, he’s different with you and Jason doesn’t let just anyone in. But you both do nothing about it because of fear and this is easier. The game you play, knowing something will happen sooner or later. This is easier than the conversations of risking the other breaking each other’s hearts. Taking those pieces of each other and the other tossing them into the river to drown. The risk is just a little too much for both of you right now and you don’t need the talk to know.

Jason looks down at his book before looking back to you. “Wanna watch something?”

Your brows furrow as you shake your head, as if to be doing a double-take of his words. “You? Wanna watch a movie?” You look up at him.

“Haven’t watched anything in a while.” Jason offers the softest of shrugs, trying to brush it off. He wants to watch something because that’s your thing.

“I always want to watch something.” You chew the inside of your cheek. “What’d ya have in mind?”

“You pick.” Jason chuckles, putting the piece of paperback in the book before tossing it onto the coffee table.

“I have suddenly forgotten every movie I have ever watched in my entire life.” You blink at him and Jason can’t help but laugh.

“Well, scroll.” Jason leans over you to grab the remote from the table beside the armrest.

He’s leaning over you, a little too close and your heart thunders. You can smell his soap on him and a hint of what you swear his in cologne he’d wear at the tower. A smile pulls at your lips, thinking that is a weird thing to put on after a shower at three in the morning. It’s such a Jason thing to do and you really do just adore him. Jason grabs the remote, hovering just above you with a wild grin and he did it on purpose.

“Here.” Jason states with ease, seeing the gentle expression of fluster across your face.

“Getting pretty close there, Jay.” You whisper, blinking at him and you take a page out of his book, actively glancing between his eyes and lips.

“You were in the way.” Jason doesn’t move and he can feel his stomach twist and turn.

“Right, could have asked me to grab the remote.” You put your hand on his, intentionally stalling as you grab the remote, keeping your eyes on him.

“Could have.” Jason shrugs a shoulder and he almost rests his forehead against yours because he can see your eyes darting across his face. But, it's you who do it first.

You can't help it. He gets close and it's the only thing you ever want, to keep him as close to you as long as possible. You feel warm when he's this close and the second he backs away, you’re cold again and you hate being cold. And Jason's entire brain is short-circuiting. Half of him is screaming 'do it' over and over again. It's screaming and banging at the inner walls of his mind, suffocating nearly every other reasonable thought he could possibly have. Then, there's the other part that thinks it's too soon even if he so desperately wants to cave to the voices in his head. And he is almost terrified of what would happen if he were the one to actually do it this time.

“Did you put on cologne?” You question him because one of you has to say something eventually and you decide, you'll do something if he has one of his usual quips. You pull away just enough to look at him and his eyes shoot wide open.

“No.” He scoffs, heat creeping up his neck as he finally back away. He didn’t think you’d notice.

You chuckle softly as you start to feel the cold creep over your bones. You were hoping he'd have a quip. “Okay, sure.” You shrug, looking at the TV and you can still feel your heart in your throat. “Smells good.” Jason gains a soft smile with your words as he watches you look at the TV.

You start scrolling through the home page, just in case anything sparks your interest. You look up in the corner to see if it says which profile it is. The picture is a picture of Jason, not smiling at the camera and the photo is simple but you think it’s cute. So, you scroll comfortably and naturally see one of the Saw movies recommended followed by Human Centipede and you cringe with the sight of the movie. The Walking Dead is under Jason’s continue watching, he’s on season 2 and you smile. Jason doesn’t watch TV but he’s watching one of your shows.

“Oh! Here.” You click a movie and look at Jason excitedly.

“Yeah…?” Jason chuckles softly and adoration bubbles in his stomach because he loves when you go on little movie rants.

“Happy Death Day.”

“Happy Death Day?” Jason nods. “Am I supposed to know what the fuck that is?”

“One of the best movies ever!” You yell excitedly and Jason loves when you get excited over movies. There’s an innocence about it. You’re anything but innocent so when you’re like this, Jason really likes it. “Groundhog Day?”

Jason shakes his head, looking at you with more confusion. “Which is?”

“Groundhog Day is a movie where the character repeats the same day over and over again.”

“Ugh.” Jason groans, tossing his head back against the back of the couch. “You like those movies?!”

“No! I don’t like Groundhog Day, that’s not my point. I like this movie.” You laugh. “She has to repeat the same day over and over until she finds her killer.”

“Oh, she just gets do-overs.”

“Yep, because Tree is a final girl and she’s a fun one, too.” You grin up at him. “Have I ever steered you wrong?” You offer him a pitiful pout and Jason nearly rolls his eyes into oblivion.

“No, you fucking haven’t.” Jason groans. You’re usually right but then he remembers something you did have him do once. “Actually, no that’s a lie. Remember that time you told me it was a good idea to use one of those smoke canons things on Dick while he made his coffee.” Jason reminds you and you nearly laugh yourself into a fit of tears.

“It was a good idea! He was pissed, he spilled coffee everywhere! There was blue dust covering the entire kitchen! He was blue for days! It was worth it.”

It was about three weeks after Dick had brought you back to the tower. Jason wanted to get Dick back for something stupid that happened in training. He had the bright idea to use one of the smoke canons they use for parties that are supposed to be non-toxic. He went to you, asking if it was a good idea or if he should think of something even better. You did not take long to tell him it was a great idea. You pictured Dick covered in blue smoke that would probably stain and he’d look like the guy from Big Fat Liar. That was enough for you to think it was a great idea.

Dick did not think so. Jason snuck into the kitchen, behind Dick and hid behind the counters before popping out and shooting one of the canons at Dick. Dick’s coffee mug hit the ground, shattering while coffee spilled everywhere. And he was covered in blue smoke. You were in the living, laughing so hard you started choking. Jason’s laugh bounced off of every wall and Dick wanted to yell because what the fuck? It was five in the morning. And this what he’s dealing with. Dick wasn’t actually mad though, not at first because it took a little bit of dedication for Jason to pull it off and for you to be awake at five in the morning. He stood there, completely silent as if to be questioning every life choice he’s made that lead him to that exact moment before finally muttering “I’m not cleaning this” and Jason immediately said he would through his fit of laughter.

It was after the shower that Dick was not happy. You were right, it did stain and he did look like the guy from Big Fat Liar. He still wasn’t that mad but he was going to dish out something because now he’s blue. Jason swore up and down it was worth it. And Gar and Rachel got a good laugh out of it, too. Rachel didn’t even want to think it was funny but Dick was in the training room trying to be so serious about something but none of you could take him seriously with a face as blue as Blue from Blue’s Clues.

“I got double chores for a week!” Jason yells.

“Well, it was a good idea for me. I got a good fucking laugh out of it and you had to pick up some my chores. So, I did not steer you wrong. I steered you exactly where I wanted you.”

All Jason can do is blink at you, he wants to laugh. You’re just as conniving as he is. You do it differently and he’ll definitely be getting you back for that.

“Yeah, don’t think you thought that far ahead.”

“Oh, didn’t I?” You wiggle your brows at him.

“No.” Jason states but his word is slightly unsure.

“Guess you’ll never know.” You shrug cheekily, looking back to the TV and you change the subject before Jason can dispute the discussion “Hey, Jay.”

“No, fuck you.” Jason scoffs, the corners of his mouth perking up.

“You should get me a blanket.” You offer a toothy, pleading smile.

“Do I look like a fucking maid to you?”

“I don’t think you want me to answer that.” You snicker to yourself and it takes everything in Jason not to start laughing and immediately get up to get you a blanket.

“Fuck you, no!” Jason huffs, you’ll be the death of him, he swears it.

“Please.” You lean forward, pouting your bottom lip. “It’s chilly.”

“It’s fucking July.” Jason’s voice booms as he finally lets the laugh slip.

“And three in the morning.” You bat your eyes at him.

“You’re so annoying.” Jason scoffs, moving your legs off him before he gets up.

“Maybe so, but you think it’s cute.”

“Do I?” Jason quips, you can see his canines through his fake scowl. He’s cute when he pretends to be mad. And Jason always thinks you’re cute, even when you’re not trying to be.

“Of course you do.” You hold your head up. “I think you’re cute.”

“Alright, shut up, pause the damn movie. What blanket you want?”

“Doesn’t matter, your pick.” Your smile turns soft and Jason nods his head slowly before turning around and heading down the hallway.

They say home is where the heart is. Jason thought that was a load of shit. His heart has belonged to several people, several places. His home, the library, his mom, his uncle, Bruce. He swore if home were a place, it would not just be the thing he loves. It would be a place he felt safe and comfortable, where he didn’t always have to look over his shoulder. It would be a place where he didn’t feel like he needed to hide a tire iron under his pillow or a baseball bat under his bed. He wouldn’t feel like he needs to hide food around the house, just to make sure he always has a stash, just in case. It would be a place of comfort and safety and peace. But, he’s walking to his room to grab a blanket for you and he thinks he feels more at home now than he ever has before. Jason pretends like he doesn’t know why that is, even if it’s chewing and biting and tugging the very center of his chest.

“Here’s your damn blanket.” Jason comes back, tossing it over your head.

“Hey!” You yell, pulling the blanket away. Jason lets out a soft laugh as he plops down beside you once more. “Rude.”

“I got the blanket.” Jason quips back. “You gonna share?”

“It’s JuLy.” You mock him while you swing your legs back over his. You spread the blanket over your legs, covering Jason, too.

Jason gains a grin looking back at you and you play the movie. The movie plays for a few minutes, before you break the silence and you think maybe Jason’s rubbed off on you because now you can’t shut up. You ignore the feeling that maybe it’s because you haven’t talked like this in a month. You ignore that maybe it’s just you missing him.

“You seem comfortable here.” You state, looking over him.

“Yeah,” Jason nods his head. “Gotham is fucking shitshow, but like you said, it’s home.” He shrugs a shoulder, a fond smile on his lips.

“Yeah.” You agree with him.

“You seem comfortable here, too. It’s your first day but you seem like you’ve been living here as long as I have.”

You offer him a kind smile. “Yeah…it feels nice. I like it here.” You think maybe you could feel comfortable anywhere as long as Jason is there.

He always offers a different type of comfort than Gar ever did. Gar offered comfort, it’s just different with Jason. He offers it with quips rather than tender words and kind touches. He offers it with sarcasm and fire in his bones. Gar offered it with softness and gentle words. Jason offers comfort in a way that makes you feel understood.

Jason moves his legs from under you and slide his on the couch, maneuvering himself to lean against the back of the couch, partially on you so he can lie down with his elbow holding his head up. The exhaustion of lack of sleep and patrol is finally catching up with him. He’s not sure if he could hold his head up much longer just sitting up. And you smile at him, a soft and loving smile.

“Tired?” You ask.

“I’m fine.” Jason answers and you think maybe it’s a reflex, to always say he’s fine. You hope he breaks the habit and chooses honesty one day.

“Mhm.” You roll your eyes. “Just lay down, I’m not gonna fucking bite you.”

“You do give biter vibes.” Jason huffs and you tap the top of his head. “Hey!” Jason lets out a laugh, looking up at you.

“I don’t bite people!” You glare at him before a flash of teasing comes across your eyes. “Well…not like this.”

Jason smirks. “Oh, that’s what you’re into? Yeah, that tracks.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean, Jay?”

Jason laughs loudly. “Nothing.” Jason continues to snicker.

“Maybe I will bite you.” You mutter.

“You can bite me in that context all you fuckin want, babe.”

Your words jumble in your mouth like they’re all rushing out once and caused a traffic jam. How does he always do that?

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” You quip and the response catches Jason off guard. He’s surprised you had a comeback.

“Wouldn’t be a threat.” Jason fires back.

“Lay down.” You roll your eyes and and stretch out your arms, welcoming him to lay with you. You think your smile might be stuck on your face like glue.

Jason smiles softly to himself and he does as told, scotting up closer to you, resting his head between your chest and stomach. You’re the only person he’s ever felt comfortable enough to lay like this with.

A kind warmth fills your stomach with the butterflies swarming around. He’s so soft. He’s so soft and he’s so good. He deserves everything good to happen to him. Jason being rough around the edges but soft around you. It makes you want to melt right into the floor. He’s fucking cute. And you lift your hand, tangling your fingers in his hair, spinning his curls around her finger. Jason hums and he doesn’t remember the last time someone played with his hair but it’s nice. It’s relaxing and you just keeps doing it while the movie plays, absentmindedly enjoying the closeness. The both of you could easily get used to this.

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[shona22]

Prompt from @thewitchway

Hope you enjoy it.

-

It’s a few miles, maybe three if Stiles can stretch his legs further to accommodate Derek’s long strides. But the preserve sprawls across acres and acres of soil, dried leaves, and magic—changing, as Stiles would solemnly swear on the blood of his future children. The tree shapes, branches, leaf colors, the very air, even the worn-down path leading to the dilapidated Hale house—all of it shifts.

Derek does not seem to mind. He’s one tracked, eyes straight ahead, shoulders no longer taunt. It’s home to him, Stiles thinks, feeling his mouth stretch at the sides without meaning to. 

The clorisBane, a hybridized version of the wolfsbane is supposedly blooming at midnight, on the southern side of the preserve. Issac had inadvertently stumbled into it, nose full of pollen, his long winded whine had alerted others. When he had finally dosed off at Deaton’s, body still trembling from heat, Derek called him. Stiles–well, Stiles had half a thought of saying no, wanted Derek to work for it, growl into his phone even–but, well, he wasn’t in the mood to antagonize the wolf. He was training to be their emissary, and it would be Stiles job, soon enough, to patrol the boundaries of beacon Hill in search for poisonous, magical plants. A trial run couldn't hurt, even though his knowledge of ClorisBane was limited to what he had read in the bestiary.

And so, he found himself walking alongside Derek, their steps not quite hurried. Stiles had stuffed his restless hands into the pockets of his red hoodie (Derek, for some inexplicable reason, loathed that particular piece of clothing. Stiles had tried to pry an explanation from him, but all he received were grunts and growls.), whistling whenever he realized he was better off keeping quiet than risking saying something stupid, like, hey remember last week when I woke up at the loft, in your bed–

It starts to rain. 

It’s not a single drop that alerts them, tickling down Stiles’s forehead, no. It’s a gush of water, as if someone had decided to push a bucket off the trees. Before he can splutter, or inadvisably stumble and fall into the muddy ground, a strong hand seizes Stiles by his biceps and pulls.

“There’s a shed,” Derek says against his ears, “Follow me.” 

“I can’t,” Stiles manages, teeth clattering and all. Water blurs his vision, clumping his long eyelashes together. He blows some water raspberries, trying to form something coherent. “I can’t see shit, Derek.” 

There’s a grunt, then he is no longer touching the ground. 

“What thre fuck–”

“It’s faster.” Derek answers tersely, his hold tight on Stiles' wet clothes, one across the expanse of his back and the other below the boy’s knees. He throws one of his arm around Derek’s neck, getting comfortable since it appears the wolf has no intention of letting him go. 

A few minutes later, though a few minutes longer than Stiles would have preferred, they found themselves huddling inside a decrepit shed—or was it an outdoor toilet? Stiles silently swore that if Derek had pushed him into a smelly, bug-infested shithouse—

"It's not far from the house," Derek interjected, his voice no longer neutral but hoarse. "Laura used to garden; it's her shed."

“Oh,” Stiles say, uncharacteristically quiet. “Thanks.” 

He doesn’t know what he is thanking for. Derek just grunts. Typical. 

The walls of the small, two by two shed had moss growing upon them. There were some wild flowers, peaking from the fractured, rotten wood. It smelt of nothing particularly outlandish, but Stiles guesses it’s partly because of the overwhelming rain, the scent of wet soil had completely overtaken his human senses. And partly, he suspected, because of Derek. The cramped space felt intimate; if Stiles were any larger, Derek's face would have been nestled against his neck. Stiles faced the door with Derek behind him, close enough to feel the heat off his body, but far enough to feel tense. It’s a mess. He opens his mouth a couple of times, to say something, anything, to dissipate the thick air between them. 

The thunder does the trick. 

Warm, wet arms wrapped tightly around Stiles's midriff. There was now a solid presence behind him, pressing against his back, Derek's beard grazing his neck. He shivered, not from the eminent cold, but the absolutely delicious smell of Derek’s cologne, the one that hasn’t been washed off in the rain. He tried to stifle a whimper, feeling needy and desperate, but it escaped anyway, just as his ears began to ring. Derek's arms tightened ever so slightly, his chest rumbling deeply, animalistic. Stiles couldn't discern if Derek was comforting himself or Stiles. The silence between them was palpable.

“I couldn’t help but notice,” Stiles starts, because he needs to or his head will explode from too many things unsaid. “You seem to hate me a little less.”  

Derek stills. 

Then, a whisper across the exposed skin– the joint between his neck and shoulder, “I never hated you.”

[obae-me]

Upside Down- CH 13

Warning: Vivid descriptions of nausea and sickness, alcohol, swearing. As Always, Read Safely.

Previous Chapter Next Chapter (Coming Soon)

Eat Me

---

There were many things you had seen throughout your long life. Not much caught you by surprise anymore. However, this… what was a good word for it? Atrocity? Monstrosity? An amalgamation of vile sponge sent from the very depths of the darkest parts of the realms? Summoned forth by the most forbidden rituals in an attempt to taint your soul and flood your blood with the whispers of contemptible desires?

It wasn’t just a cake, that was for certain.

No. It was a curse covered in frosting. And it dug up a primordial and raw panic in you.

The first bite had been fine. In hindsight, it was probably your senses frozen in shock. Some form of survival instinct unlocked to protect you. It was rather tasteless. The texture was all off, somehow crumbly and yet…almost slimy at the same time. It went down rough, as if your body was doing everything it could to prevent it from heading down into your stomach. A tingling was left in your throat, and by the time you had taken your third bite, something rotten inside you was burning. You covered your mouth with your hand, setting down your fork and taking several minutes trying to get to the bottom of how this dessert was so…awful. So many conflicting senses sent your mind swirling. While you weren’t exactly a gourmand, you could tell that Infernal, Mortal, and Holy ingredients were used. Each profile conflicted the other, and quite like the people of each realm themselves, they were fighting to stand on their own. Rather than blend together smoothly to create a robust experience, it tasted as if you had taken a bite of several different meals and chowed down on them at the same time. Fighting each other even culinarily… You would almost be tempted to sit back and think of it poetically if it wasn’t seconds away from coming back up and defiling these graves.

The human beside you mindlessly took more of the cake and swallowed several more bites. Fascination and horror roused within you. It seemed that rather than tasting it, Beel was swallowing the chunks whole, more focused on filling up his stomach than savoring the treat. If you could even call it such a thing. But eventually, he came to his senses, reaching the same conclusion you did, setting down his fork and giving you an awkward side glance. He cleared his throat and searched his mind for the proper words to give. “This is…uh…” He hesitated to even lick his lips for fear of picking up more remnant of the taste.

“Horrible,” you finished for him.

Beel’s face turned apologetic. “I appreciate you taking the time to…make this—“

The words nearly broke you out in a cold sweat. It’s not that you felt you needed to upkeep your reputation for a human, but there was no way on the devil’s scorched earth that you were going to be associated with this dining disaster. “No!” The desperation to your own voice caught you off guard. “I mean, I didn’t make it. A…” You would say acquaintance, even coworker, but now you were wondering if Solomon was in fact an enemy. Olive branch, he said. More like declaration of war. An assassination attempt. Did he do this on purpose to make you look bad in front of the humans you were supposed to protect? Was there some secret message behind the venom inside the cream? “Someone I know made it… I…” Why were you suddenly so flustered? So embarrassed? You were a demon for sin’s sake! You could simply kill a human for looking at you with a crooked eye! Yet, it was probably because of the way this Morningstar was looking at you that had you so thrown off. Like he was appreciative of the cake even though it was perhaps the most inedible thing he had ever held in his hands. Like he would keep eating it if you asked him to, his fingers already brushing against the utensil like he was waiting for your approval. Was he really so gluttonous as to be ready to eat even if it made him sick, even if it killed him? Why? To please you? No, it didn’t quite seem like that. He was kind, yes, but he wasn’t a doormat. Something in him was starving. Something past his mouth, past his stomach, settled all the way into the depths of his soul was clawing at him from the inside. You knew this sensation too. This emptiness.

Guilt.

Hopelessness.

Loss.

The food he was eating was another distraction. Just like Mammon’s shimmering trinkets and Levi’s flashing lights, Beel allowed himself to get absorbed in his own form of self comfort. Each brother seemed to be engulfed in their own little world, swallowed up by their sin and just barely keeping their head afloat. These humans were all drowning, one hand outstretched, waiting for someone to pull them to safety…

You reached over and closed the lid to the take-out box, half tempted to set it ablaze to ensure it would be purified to ashes. However, aside from the fact that it might cause the human to panic, you had to wonder what sort of dangers the toxins in the air would cause… You’d have to dispose of it cleverly. Perhaps manage to open a rift into outer darkness and chuck it where even the fates couldn’t reach. You stood up.

“You don’t have to throw it away.” Beel reached out, almost appearing a bit panicked. This surprised you. You had assumed that this behavior was caused by the death of his sister, but suddenly you had the sense that this was a deep-seeded issue, something that had been with him for a while, exacerbated with Lilith’s passing. The human managed to read your confusion, shifting uncomfortably as he could feel your analyzing thoughts. “I don’t like anything to go to waste,” he explained. “I don’t remember too much of my life before Lucifer brought me home, but…” Beel searched for the words, the memories painful, but still managing to smile. “Every crumb is precious to me. You never know how long it’ll be before you can eat again.”

There was a stirring inside you, and not just the concoction in your stomach. You turned your head up, trying to look past the pollution to see the stars. Something about his sad words poked at old memories. Faded messages from someone your soul refused to forget. What was it they used to say?

“Every second is precious to me. You never know when it will be your last.”

Humans were so fragile. And yet, somehow they continued to thrive. Through war and despair and starvation and destruction they struggle and fight to survive. Even if doing so only adds mere seconds to their lives, they will spill blood to claim those last few seconds.

Greedy things.

Had they fought for more precious seconds right before the end?…

You snapped yourself out of your daze. “Trust me, you’re not wasting anything by not eating this.” The box tucked under your arm, your other hand grabbing Beel’s outstretched hand to help him up. “The sun will be rising soon, we should probably get back before people start waking up.”

A surprising warmth flooded your body as Beel’s hand slipped into yours. He got to his feet before his touch dropped from yours, hurrying back into the pockets of his jacket. He looked down at Lilith’s grave and nodded. “Talk to you soon… I’ll bring Belphie with me next time, I promise.” Silence lingered over the graveyard for moment before he gestured for you to follow him. “We can get out this way.”

The human walked a few steps away from you, your own feet prepared to follow before a faint whisper echoed behind you. It was quiet, so much so, you almost convinced yourself it had been the wind. But even so, the familiar tone to the voice immediately brought tears to your eyes. You turned, almost calling out an old name before the sensation you felt faded. Your hand pressed over a panging in your chest, an old wound that tempted to tear back open. Before you could think anything of it, you brushed it aside as you hearing things. Madness. Auditory hallucinations probably brought about by the unknown ingredients in the cake Solomon made. You had been thinking about them a lot more than usual lately, and now your mind was conjuring up things. That was all. You glanced down at Lilith’s grave.

It was strangely peaceful here.

“Something wrong?”

You turned your head back at Beel before shaking it. “Just hearing things.” In a few steps, you were at his side. As you stood directly next to him, you couldn’t help but stare at him. Something felt…off, but you couldn’t quite discern what it was. A certain detail was different enough for you to notice, but not obvious enough to place. Like how you can tell someone had disturbed a room you’d walked into, but not being able to figure out what had been touched.

Where most people might’ve been off-put by your staring, he simply held your gaze, raising an eyebrow. The longer you looked, the more a little blush seemed to form on his cheeks. He rubbed at the corner of his lips and found a stray dab of frosting, wiping it away on his pants. “Did I get it?” He asked, assuming he’d discovered what you were observing. Letting it go for the time being, you nodded, but something was still bothering you.

The human began to lead you towards the direction you both had come in. Unlike his other two brothers you’d made pacts with, either he wasn’t the particularly curious type, or he knew when to keep questions to himself. He didn’t bother prodding further on how you’d found him or how you knew how to sneak inside or even how you knew he left. He was only focused on getting you two out of there. Near the inside of the fence was a little bush, Beel headed towards it and pulled out a green plastic milk crate. He pushed it towards the perimeter and stood on top of it, bending his knees a little and waving you over. “Here, I’ll help you over.” He laced his hands together and again encouraged you to get closer to him.

It wouldn’t do to simply jump over like usual. So, playing along like a proper human, you placed your foot in his palms. He held you carefully, raising you up and letting you kneel on his shoulders. All the while worrying over you to be careful. You pretended to struggle pulling yourself over, entertaining yourself as you hit the ground on the other side. Beel rushed over, leaping over in such a frenzy, his jacket sleeve tore a little on one of the metal pickets. He nearly fully scooped you up off the ground, picking you up by the small of your back and settling you back on your feet.

“Are you okay?” He worried over you, and while you didn’t particularly care for humans, the attention had the end of your hidden tail twitch. You touched at the fabric of his sleeve with a little frown, wondering if you had taken your act a little too far. Even as you were fiddling with it, he didn’t fret over it. “You’re not hurt or anything?”

“I’m alright,” you responded bluntly, walking a bit down the sidewalk. You approached a public bin and promptly threw the box containing the cake away. You heard Beel strut up behind you, moaning a bit at even just the thought of what it tasted like. “I need to go home and eat something to get rid of that flavor… I should still have that pudding left.” He began to go on a little ramble, daydreaming about different treats. The mood seemed to brighten as he went over his list of snacks he would be consuming as soon as he got his hands on them. His feet began moving as his mind trailed away. Then he stopped, looking over his shoulder at you. “Aren’t you coming?”

“Actually…” You looked down the opposite direction, down the street. “There’s something I’m going to check on first.”

“Oh. Alright. Be safe, okay? Weird things have been happening at night lately. Lucifer keeps pestering us to stay inside. And then of course, he stays out himself…” While almost everyone mentioned their older brother with a bit of anger, Beel only harbored concern and admiration when he spoke of Lucifer. Rather than getting hung up on his older brother again, he moved on from the subject. “Thanks for checking on me… You’re pretty nice. I see why Mammon and Levi like you. See you later.” Without another word, he turned away from you, walking along the streets that would take him back to the house. You stood in place and waited till his frame dissipated in the darkness.

A sigh left your lungs. Your stomach rumbled in a little bit of pain.

“Lucifer…”

Even from the sidewalk across the street from the building, you could pinpoint the window to Lucifer’s office. The light was faint, but still active nonetheless. With a slight roll to your eyes, you approached the front doors, grasping the long and golden vertical handle. It rattled. Locked. With a huff, you took a step back. Of course this was just a waste of time. Why did you think coming here was a good idea anyway? Was it the look on Beel’s worried face? Were you so easily persuaded by a human you had hardly come to know? A swift turn of your feet had you pointing in the direction where you had just come from. But something stopped you. Not quite a voice like before, but like a guided thought, one that didn’t quite feel like your own. It sent a shiver down your spine, bringing about the sensation of deja vu, the same phenomenon you felt earlier just as you were leaving the graveyard. A series of emotions that you roughly translated.

Check on him, please.

A heavy growl left your lungs as you rounded the building to try to find access in through the back. A ripple crossed over your body, shielding your body from view, feeling the comfort that came from not being perceived. You couldn’t stay here for long. You already made a promise to your pact-mates and Simeon that you’d conserve your magic where you could. Even now you were almost trudging your feet, worn out. As you rounded the corner of the structure, you suddenly froze. Magic that was not your own flooded the alley. It was strong, every weave working to repel you from this place. If it weren’t for Solomon’s charm, you might’ve even been pushed all the way back down to the Devildom. It zapped your strength, stirring the remains of the poison in your stomach.

Just across the way from you, leaving the alley from the opposite direction, was a tall man. The source of the magic rang out from his aura, the remains of a spell twinkling off his hands. Was it him? Was he the one going around and protecting this place? Was he the one guarding the Morningstar home as well? Why? Even with the coat across his shoulders, you could tell his build was wide and statuesque. Striking red hair swayed in the breeze and caught the rays of the peeking sunrise, making his presence blaze for a single moment before he turned out of view and sauntered off. You raised an eyebrow, tempted to follow, but giving up on that desire rather quickly. You’d stalked enough human men today. Still… who was he?

The spell hummed in your ears, refusing to leave anytime soon, almost convincing you to give up on Lucifer entirely. But with a silent grumble, you stepped further in to check the back door. Unsurprisingly, it was also locked, but you expected as much. It would simply be easier to break in from here. Rather than use a key like normal people, it seemed that these little number-pads were the way to grant access around here. A quiet demonic spell was chanted in the base of your throat, sparks dancing between your fingertips. You pressed your hand against the numbers and listened to the internal mechanism fry. It chirped as it died and glared at you with a little red eye. For a moment, you wondered if you’d have to resort to breaking in the door or a window. But then just before your hopes of destruction got too high, the eye turned green as you heard a click. You put the brick back down. Whoever put that stupid warding magic here didn’t think everything all the way through, did they?

You smugly entered the building, wandering through the back room and out into the main lobby. You paced around for a little while until you found the metal plating that you recently learned was called an elevator. Humans found the strangest ways to make things easier for them. Normally you’d avoid the flimsy metal box, but part of it fascinated you. You tapped at the buttons and had to restrain yourself from eagerly hitting all of them just to watch them light up and make a satisfying bing. The doors opened and you stepped inside, selecting the floor you knew Lucifer’s office was located.

As the elevator lurched upward, so did your stomach. Everything seemed to swirl around you for a few agonizing seconds, some sort of motion sickness overtaking your senses. The base of your throat clenched as you worked to keep yourself sick. Every muscle in your body tensed. You focused entirely on keeping yourself hidden. The doors opened, the movement stopped, but the sensation didn’t. You crawled your way out of the elevator, trying not to gasp in pain. Working on your breathing, fighting against your own body to settle down.

That cake was doing something to you…

The current wave of sickness passed, a faint tingling sparking through your body. You shuffled your way up to your feet, holding onto the end of some random desk.

The office was empty. Almost every light turned off except for a few. Lucifer’s office was illuminated. His door was wide open…

Panic. Anxiety. You hobbled forward, doing your best to stay silent as you sprinted towards his office door. There had been something odd about the whole thing. You should’ve followed your gut. Maybe that other human had done something. Maybe they weren’t being protected at all… Maybe something had happened. Was he—

As you burst silently into the room, you had to cover your mouth to hold in your breath. The eldest Morningstar was face-down on his desk, hand limply holding a pen. The screen of his computer was still lit up, in the middle of some project. No. No, no, no… You approached his body with a tight chest, imagining the look on his brother’s faces if you had to come home with bad news. Imagining the reprimand you’d get from Simeon once he found out the human had been harmed. Your adventure was over just as you felt like it was starting. You didn’t smell any blood, and you didn’t sense any other magic aside from the human’s from earlier. Careful fingers touched the side of his neck.

Lucifer’s head shot up.

Instinct kicked in before you could stop yourself. Luckily, instead of tearing him to shreds, you simply pushed him, sending him out of his chair and onto the floor. He groaned sleepily, sitting up and grasping the sides of his head. Clearly he was dazed and confused…and perhaps a bit hungover. The smell of human alcohol was now clear.

He had simply passed out.

Your teeth gritted, hands held in front of you in a choking motion, imagining yourself fully throttling him by his scrawny little neck for getting you…unnaturally…perturbed. Then you covered your face, exasperated at yourself for getting so caught up in random emotions.

Lucifer reached up to press his palm against his desktop, clearly exerting himself trying to stand.

It would be…so easy to push him over right now.

You were ready to do it, only two seconds away from sweeping his leg before you heard some sort of shuddering gasp as he settled himself on his feet. The eldest of humans, the biggest pain in the tail you’d come to meet, the man you wouldn’t even want to talk to in your dreams… was on the verge of tears. You took a single step back to observe him slumping back into his office chair, rasping out a curse, looking at his phone and the time and his work before leaning forward and placing his face in his hands.

Now you simply felt…maybe a small bit of repentance. Guilty for being so tempted to quite literally kick a man while he was down. Turning your head to avoid looking at him, you took the steps to walk back out of his office. Past the receptionist’s desk and around the corner of the cubicles, you had remembered seeing a small nook that resembled a mini kitchen; cabinets and a fridge and whatnot. You headed off in that direction and began to rifle through a few things. It didn’t take you too long before you found an empty paper cup. One jaunt over to the nearby water dispenser, and you snuck back towards the office.

Lucifer was in the same position as before, and it was difficult for you to tell if he was crying or simply processing his inebriated thoughts. While his eyes were covered, you settled the cup of water down beside the empty shot-glass. You were really pushing your luck with this, but… you were entitled to do something after pushing him over. This was just making up for that. You didn’t want to owe anything to Lucifer. Now you were even.

Spotting the couch again, you sat down, leaning back and keeping yourself from sighing as you looked out the window.

Great. Now you could relate to this asshole. How infuriating.

“Hm?” Half-lidded eyes finally were free from his hands as he noticed the paper cup before him. Befuddled, he picked it up and smelled it, probably wondering if he’d poured himself another shot. The way he arched his eyebrow almost had you chuckling. “When did I…?” He was clearly quite perplexed. Although, after rubbing his eyes and his forehead for several minutes, he somehow came to the conclusion that he’d gotten it himself. He downed the water quickly with a groan, staring at his computer screen. Any normal being at this point would quit for the day, finding some way to hobble home. This…muddle of a man left you stupefied as he defied all reason, ignored all good sense as he stood, rubbing the back of his head, clearly ready to get back to work. “I need more coffee…”

As he left his office, staggering as he tipped left and right, you kept yourself from scoffing. You had to be kidding. What kind of idiotic, self-sabotaging, prideful moron would go so far as to isolate himself and—

Wait.

No. No this was not the same! Not the same thing. He was a human, it was different! This wasn’t about pride, this was about… something totally unrelated! You and Lucifer were so far from each other, you… you…

You couldn’t think of a proper dispute for yourself.

Maybe it was true… Maybe you were alike, in some aspects. Pushing others away to save face, only to hurt yourself in the process. Pushing yourself to the brink of death just to…to what, prove a point?

What was it you were trying to prove anymore?… You couldn't remember...

Lucifer seemed fine. Well, alive and walking at least. Safe for the moment. You stood up once more, satisfied and frustrated with the events that had just taken place. All you’d come out here for was to show the little voice in the back of your head that the human was unharmed. Now you’d just… go back home— to the home. The Morningstar home. Not your home. Your home was in the Devildom.

Oof. Your thoughts were getting all sorts of jumbled, weren’t they? Sweat started to bead down your forehead. The droplets were cold. Too cold. Like you were much too hot… That was weird.

An intense cramp ran through your entire body, your muscles seized up, your frame crumpling to the floor. For a moment you writhed, reaching out to pull yourself forward, but missing the furniture. It squeaked harshly as you ended up pushing it away from you instead. Panting, gasping, you nearly left claw marks in the flooring as you grasped it again, pulling yourself up to your knees.

The noise alerted the human approaching the office, coming back in as adrenaline rushed through his veins. You could only pray he didn’t see you. Covering your mouth, you held back a scream as another throb forced your vision to go blurry.

Don’t…get…found out…

Crawling behind the shelter of the couch, you forced the sick to stay in your body.

“Who’s there?!”

Hide…Hide away from it all…Then you won’t…

…

A messed up swirl of colors crossed your vision. You reached out a hand and rolled over onto your stomach before collapsing again. By the next time you opened your eyes, even if it felt like only a second, you could tell time had passed. It was a bit brighter now, although wherever you were was still blanketed by shade. Every limb in your body felt weak. Fully opening your eyelids might as well have been like asking you to climb from the lower ring of hell all the way to the tallest tier in heaven in under seven minutes. It took several more attempts before you could press your hands to your head. It took even longer to finally sit up.

You felt like death. Which was rather hilarious considering just the other day you had nearly actually died. Whatever this was felt worse. Every breath you took made you queasy. For too many minutes, you assumed you were back in the Devildom, waking up to the worst hangover you’d had in your vast life. But then the memories slowly started to trickle in. Although there was a very clear black spot in your memory. The last thing you remembered, you had snuck into Lucifer’s office. And now you were… Where were you exactly? Everything was a blur. Blinking didn’t exactly clear up your vision.

This didn’t look like an office. Didn’t look like anywhere…

A long roof covered your head, but this room had no walls, letting light from the outside flood in at all sides. A pergola of some kind? There was no furniture in this place either, just clear floor in all directions around you. Odd. Your limbs fumbled around for a while, struggling to stand up, and once you were on the flats of your feet, it was even harder to stand straight. Slowly, you carefully wobbled your way towards one of the open entrances to try and figure out just where in the three realms you ended up in.

Light flashed across your eyes as you stepped out of the shade. A headache throbbed through your temples as you blinked spots away. Looking in front of you, you saw a field of tall grey grass. Wait… grey grass? Were you seeing things? Looking up you noticed a… white not-so-blue sky. In fact, it looked more like a high ceiling. And a ways away on the other side of the field was a dark brown, almost black building settled next to a giant oddly shaped mountain, that sort of resembled a—

Oh… Oh no. Saints and Sinners alike, say it wasn’t so. No!

A hand clasped over your lips as you stumbled back into the dark, losing your balance and falling to the floor. Both panic and shaky legs kept you from standing up quite yet. You remained hidden in the shadows of the cover overhead, peering out into the open space with clenched teeth. This was a dream. A horrid nightmare in fact. It had been several ancient years since you ever remembered having something akin to a nightmare, but this had to be one of them. A cold chill covered every inch of your skin. You felt clammy. Nauseated. Unable to breathe. Calm, you had to tell yourself. If you freak out too much, you will be sick.

Sick. Right! You had been poisoned. Did he— Did that—

Did Solomon’s messed up cake shrink you?!

Dread began to swirl with anger. When you… When you managed to get your hands on that pesky little angel, you would— Not the time. You could fantasize fondly about that later. Right now, you had to fix this. But… how? How would you undo this? This didn’t feel like any regular hex that an enchantment would reverse. If you had ingested this… it stood to reason you needed an antidote. Wait! Beel… Beel had consumed the cake too… Was he in the same position as you? If he was, he was probably freaking out right now. Had he made it home?! Or was he now outside, completely vulnerable. Bite sized for whatever demon wanted a Morningstar snack… Or what if it did something worse to him? He was only a human after all… What if he… You tugged at your hair a bit as your tail thrashed behind you.

This was bad. Really bad. Truly and utterly terrible.

Order of operations… To find Beel, you needed an antidote. To get an antidote, you needed to get ahold of Simeon or Solomon. You felt around your clothes, feeling your pockets for your phone. Nothing. It seemed whatever magic was at play here kept you clothed, but didn’t shrink your phone with you…Solomon’s charm was still there too. You wouldn’t question how that worked. Don’t think too deeply into how magic works. Just don’t. Please. It would be a waste of energy you couldn’t afford to lose. If this was still Lucifer’s office, and you collapsed in here, your device should still be somewhere here…

Walking forward tepidly, you peeked out from the cover that you’d come to the devastating conclusion was the underside of the couch. If you had to guess, right now you were probably no bigger than the average index finger… Lucifer was no longer at his desk. His office door closed. However, the glow from the monitor was still on, and his black leather business bag was still slumped against the floor. He was still in the building somewhere, which meant you had to be careful. For, as much as you were trying, you couldn’t cloak right now… Or hide your demon form. If someone caught you…if someone caught Beel… As your pact mates would say it: Game Over.

You rushed out from under the couch to scan the office for your phone. You checked the rug, against the walls, by the window, under the desk, but nothing. Lucifer must’ve found it… Now you’d have to try to answer how your phone wound up in his office… and hells, the couch! He’d seen it move! What if he connected your phone to… First you’d have to worry about finding Beel and getting back to normal. If you had no way to contact the others, you’d have to figure out how to get home. If you could get back to Mammon and Levi, they could contact Simeon or Solomon for you, and then the hunt for Beel could start. But how would you make it all the way back to the house?…

There was only one clear solution to that. Lucifer.

If you could tuck yourself into his work bag, you could probably escape undetected. But you couldn’t just wait around for him to decide to go home, not when Beel’s life was at stake! You would have to figure out a way to send Lucifer home now. But how?…

Pacing around back and forth only served to make you dizzy. You leaned heavily against one of the couch’s legs. Get him to stop working…get him to stop work… Wait, work! His work! Destroy his addiction! Can’t keep working if there’s no work to work on! You would stop saying work now.

Jogging over to his desk, you spotted a single long black cord poking through a little hole in the wood. The lifeline of the computer. Controlled by more feral thoughts than usual, you ran over to it and sunk your teeth into it, tugging till the cord snapped. A fierce jolt ran through your body as the electricity sparked for a moment, but then you shook it off. Stepping out from under the desk and looking up, you noticed the monitor had gone black. Perfect.

The door latch clicked.

Scrambling, you bolted towards Lucifer’s bag. You wriggled yourself under the leather flap only to discover it was mostly decorative. The bag itself was still closed with a zipper. But for the moment you were hidden, working hard to keep your horns from puncturing through the thing.

You heard the door fully open as the familiar click of Lucifer’s steady cadence struck the ground. “…and all I need to do is plug it into the computer?” His voice held firm, not like he had sounded when you found him blacked out at his desk. Vibrations ran through your body as he stepped closer and sat at his desk. Frantic tapping at his keyboard could be heard before he held back a curse. His fist hit the desk. “It’s not working, it’s… Hold on. You’ve got to be kidding me…” He must’ve discovered your little act of sabotage.

All the while, you had found the tag to the zipper, both hands clutched around it as you slowly pulled it back, making no noise. Once an opening was large enough for you to slip through- which in this scenario, wasn’t very much- you tucked yourself inside. It was rather packed in here…not only did you have to worry about getting discovered, but now you were worried about being squashed between thick binders and files and who knows what else. You tried to hole yourself inside a pocket to keep yourself out of view. And now you could only blasphemously pray to not be found. If angels were listening to your pleas, you hoped that cursed cherub was listening to every personal thought and comment you had to say about this predicament. Maybe if you thought hard enough, his ears would burn off.

“The computer…it’s fine, I can access it at home.”

Yes!

“Just connect it to my computer, open the email you sent me, and you swear this will unlock the phone?”

…Wait…

“Under usual circumstances, I’d tell you to mind your business. But in this case, I feel like it’s fair to say it’s from the same person you’ve failed to run a background on.”

…Shit.

“Don’t you think it’s rather pathetic for me to have to do your job for you? You better hope this little ‘key’ of yours doesn’t disappoint me as well.” Lucifer huffed as it appeared he ended the call early. You could nearly feel the rage and frustration rippling off of him as he addressed his broken computer, pushing his chair back and letting it roll and hit against the back wall. Your whole world was rocked as the bag was picked up off the floor. “Utterly ridiculous… Losing my mind…” You heard the human mutter.

What an absolutely, utterly, terribly, impossibly horrible human! And to think, you’d almost felt some small modicum of… pity for him! You’d checked on him and made sure he was okay, and this was how he was treating you now? Trying to break into your phone?!

Sweat seemed to bead more down your face. The jostling of the bag wasn’t helping your current weakened condition. And now you were running cold with panic. If Lucifer got into your phone… you can’t even recall what you had written down over text… Did you mention you were a demon? He’d see those texts from Simeon… No…you couldn’t let him do that.

Lucifer continued to walk quickly, making his way through his work building with top speed. A car door opened. Then your mind flipped and the personal hell of your own making roughly hit something and tumbled. More agony flooded your body as all the air was pushed out of your lungs, feeling crushed in all directions. He’d really just thrown you in the car, didn’t he? Ouch… You had to struggle to keep your consciousness. There was too much at stake to simply pass out now, no matter how tempting the sweet darkness was.

Find Beel, unshrink yourself, and now keeping Lucifer from figuring you out…

Hells…how could this little nightmare get any worse?

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