#the full stop is kind of ominous

[pkmntrainercecil]

where did you get that vivillon.

( @olive-ele-ven )

She was a gift from my friend in Kalos! IIRC, she's a polar pattern!

[that-sarcastic-writer]

Too Sweet

Logan Howlett X F!Reader

Summary: you tell Logan not to hold back anymore. And who is he to deny his sweet girlfriend anything? This is just porn without plot

Wrote this with Xmen/X2 Logan in mind but you may picture whichever Logan suits your needs

Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, piv, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it my children), oral (f receiving), fingering, soft rough sex, Logan talks you through it, creampie, choking, the claws make an appearance (duh), Logan is obsessed with his girl, established relationship

WC: 3.2K

A/N: SOMETHING SHORT SHE SAID. I need to be put down. I am feral over this man. Seeing DP&W got me acting tf up. It put me back into my Logan obsession so I rewatched all of his movies. And now I need him. So here you go. Might write more with him soon. For now is this.

Follow my reading blog to stay updated with my works if you’d like to see more @midnightreadinglibrary

You were sweet. You were, oh, so sweet. Such a pretty sweet thing. You were so going to be the death of him. Playing with the strings of his sanity, of his composure. Worst of all, you were doing nothing at all to make him go insane. Other than love and care for him that was.

He tried, he really did, he tried to keep himself under control when he was with you, and he was doing a pretty good job of it so far. But god, today, today you were going to make him loose his fucking mind. He had decided to visit you, unannounced he stopped by your apartment. And what did he find? You, in the kitchen, in nothing but a red flannel, his red flannel. Speechless, he was. 

Logan stood in silence, blinking slowly as his eyes took in every part of you with growing intensity. Your legs were bare, your ass barely covered by the length of his shirt and you seemed rather happy like this. Is this what you did when he wasn’t around? And why did the sight of you suddenly wake deep within him an overwhelming need to ruin you? 

Almost as if the intensity of his presence got your absentminded attention, you turned your head to find him standing in the entryway with an unreadable expression. And though a little bit flustered by his unannounced visit, you welcomed him with a soft smile.

“Hi Logan.” You greeted him with glee, all but skipping over to him to greet him properly, of course. You were standing on the ends of your toes and throwing your arms over his broad shoulders while he just stood in ominous silence, only a deep exhale leaving his lips. “Are you okay baby?”

“Yeah.” His voice strained with restraint as he fought the deep urge to throw you over the nearest flat surface. Instead he simply placed his hands on your hips, squeezing unevenly as he gave you an eyebrow raise. “New shirt?”

“Oh,” Your lips fell open in a bit of embarrassment and you laughed softly, flustered as you looked down at the shirt that was clearly not yours. It kind of smelled like him still. “Yeah so, my washer broke, I don’t know what happened to it, and I couldn’t find anything comfortable so… Does it bother you?”

Did it bother him? The only thing that was bothering him was his already hard cock straining against his jeans. 

“A pretty girl in my clothes? I would be fucking stupid.” 

The way his words left his mouth made you laugh. But the look in those hazel eyes was anything but humorous. Animalistic and full of need. Your lips curled up into a smile as he leaned down to crash his lips against yours. Messily and intensely his lips moved against yours as his hands squeezed and touched everywhere he could, as if he didn’t know which part of you he craved to feel more. 

“You’d look prettier on your back though.” He muttered against your mouth, lightly nipping at your bottom lip. You were more than happy to comply.

A string of giggles left your lips as his lips tickled over your stomach. You laid flat on the soft covers as Logan settled between the warmth of your thighs. He pried your legs open, fingers digging into your skin as his sharp canines lightly nipped at the plush flesh on your inner thigh. You gasped, though overwhelmed with excitement.

“Logan.” You scolded him, knowing you would have a mark there, but the sound of your voice turned into a delicious whine when he pressed his nose into your panties, inhaling that oh so intoxicating scent of yours. 

An almost animalistic growl rumbled in his chest, “I’ve been thinkin’ about this sweet pussy all day.” He pressed a hard kiss to your hole, the bridge of his nose bumping your clothed clit. The sudden pressure had you gasping for air, your chest pounding with anticipation.

Your panties were off your body and thrown over his shoulder in a split second, his lips latching on to your clit with reckless urgency. One would think this man hadn’t seen you in weeks, when he had seen, and taken you only two nights ago. Alas, that was one the things you loved the most about Logan, his unending need to touch you, to feel you, to be all over you. You thought he would get tired eventually, but his drive was almost animalistic. He never had enough, though he often held back for your sake. 

His tongue lapped at your pussy with abandon. From your hole to your clit, circling and sucking before diving back into your walls. Squirming, you were chasing his mouth with your hips, body overcome with pleasure as he worked your walls. It annoyed him at times, the way your hips moved and lifted off the mattress with sensitivity as he fucked you with his tongue, when his nose brushed against your clit. With a frustrated grunt, he grabbed a hold of your thighs and pressed your knees against your stomach, holding you down and spreading you open for him to do as he pleased. 

“You squirm too fucking much.” He huffed, but there was a slight bit of amusement laced in his tongue.

Your response came in the form of a whimper, a pathetic sound that only grew louder when two thick fingers replaced his tongue inside your wet hole. He looked up at you with pure primal need as his fingers worked your tight walls, crooking against that one spot that had you crying.

“Please, please Logan.” You didn’t know what you were pleading for. Mercy? Sweet release? To be ruined? You didn’t know. 

Logan raised an amused eyebrow at you, wet lips curled up into a tiny smirk as he moved his tongue back to your clit. He licked and sucked to match each delicious drag of his fingers. The sounds leaving him were just as filthy as the things he was doing to you, groaning and grunting into your pussy as he ate you like a starving man. 

It was no surprise that he had you shaking and crying, overcome with pleasure, eyes blurry with tears, your release rapidly approaching. You latched on to his hair, tugging and pulling at the strands as your pathetic sounds filled the room. 

“That feels so—ugh—feels so good—please.” Were you making any sense? No. Did he care? Fuck no. Seeing you so desperate, so consumed with pleasure, a complete and utter mess for him, it snapped something in him. Deep inside the most perveted and secluded corner of his mind, he liked it. And though he shouldn’t, he wanted more. 

Your release was hard and sudden, your loud sounds were almost as overwhelming as the feeling of his tongue still lapping at your sensitive clit. You were writhing on the mattress, nearly crying as you had no option but to take it, it wasn’t like you could run away, not with the way his free held you down, one hand of his was stronger than all of you combined. All you could do was sob and pull at his hair as he dragged out your orgasm. 

“L-Logan.” You pleaded weakly, throat dry as you pushed yourself up on your elbows, chest glistening with a layer of sweet, lightly clinging to the fabric of Logan’s shirt. All you could see was his dark hair before his eyes met yours. The look behind his eyes was indescribable but it had you clenching you around nothing when his fingers left you. 

Your thighs twitched in aftershock when his mouth left you. You felt him press his forehead against your thighs, his hardened breath fanning against your hot skin for a long second. He needed a second to calm down, keep himself under control, he couldn’t let his primal instincts get the best of him.

You ran your fingers along his face, threading through the hair along his cheek and you silently ushered him up. He complied, in an instant settling between your open legs to find your mouth again. You could taste yourself on his lips, on his tongue, it was all so much for your clouded mind. His fingers were on your hair as his mouth took yours with growing urgency. You could feel him through the roughness of his jeans, brushing against your clit in ways that made you dizzy. You needed him, and you needed him bad. You reached down, trembling fingers fumbling with his belt, but before you could undress him he was pulling back, rough fingers holding your wrist.

“Hold on, just hold on a minute.” He was breathing hard, chest pounding as he looked at your confused face. 

“Wait, why? What's wrong?” God, you were too sweet, too kind for him, he couldn’t do it. 

“I just… Shit.” He closed his eyes, jaw set as tried to control his clouded mind, but he could only do so much to restrain all of the filthy things he craved to do to you. The way you were looking up at him, eyes big with concern, gentle hands holding his face, preventing him from going anywhere. “I think we should stop. I should stop.”

“Oh… I mean.. We can stop whenever but.. Why? Did I do something wrong?” You were sitting up, and the sadness and disappointment in your pretty eyes made him curse at himself.

“No. No. Fuck, no. I’m the problem. I don’t think I can hold myself back anymore.” He finally admitted it, words leaving his chest with heaviness. Your face remained the same, confused.

“Well, why would you? I never asked you to.” It finally dawned on you what he meant, and you were unbothered, if anything the look on your face was of eagerness. With malice, you threw your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. “I don’t want you to hold back with me.”

“Sweetheart..” He was warning you, voice rumbling in his chest as he closed his eyes, one last attempt to keep his composure before it was inevitably too late.

“I won’t break Logan. I trust you. And I want it.” Your last words came out with sharpness, a grueling intensity that had him groaning under his breath. You pressed a kiss to his jaw, almost as if to emphasize your point. And it was like a switch flipped in his head. 

With an uneven breath he was sitting up on his knees, white undershirt thrown to be forgotten somewhere in your room. And you were happily delighted as you watched him toss his belt aside and undo his jeans. He pulled his cock out of his pants with a strained groan and you were holding your breath in anticipation, legs open and welcoming him. His eyes were dark with pure raw desire as he settled between your legs, cock hard and heavy as he kicked the rest of his clothes off like it had insulted him.

“Don’t fucking hold back.” You snapped at him as he held himself up on his forearm, his other hand holding himself against your entrance. Your words shot straight to his cock and his lips curled up into a grin.

“Hold on, pretty.” He rumbled, chest heavy as he sank himself into your wet cunt in one single thrust.

Your lips fell open, eyes instantly rolling at the delicious feeling of his thick and heavy cock splitting you open. It was an intoxicating feeling you couldn’t get enough of; you were fucking sure he had ruined every other man for you. Not that it bothered you. 

The pace he set was grueling from the start, one hand braced on your pillow beside your head and the other on your thigh, rough fingers feeling up and down the skin as he drove his cock in and out of your walls. Sounds of pleasure left your lips almost immediately as the sting of his cock had you dragging your nails up and down his back, leaving red angry marks that healed in a split second. He absolutely adored the burning sensation your nails left on his skin, over and over. 

It was brutal, the way his hips drove you into the mattress as he fucked the life out of you. You did ask him to, you realized that perhaps your lack of restraint when it came to him would indeed be the end of you today, but at least you’d die happy by his cock. His forehead touched yours, eyes on your chest as he forced the buttons of his shirt open. His hand immediately cupped your breast, squeezing and he forced your body up and down on the mattress with each relentless snap of his hips. You cried out, head thrown back as your cunt squeezed his cock, unable to do much other than take everything he had to give you. His hand traveled up your chest to your exposed neck, fingers sprawled over your throat but not putting pressure. 

“Yes. Please, yes, do it.” Delirious, cock-drunk, fucked out, you might have been all of those things, but you were perfectly aware of him surrounding you, caging you in, consuming you. And you wanted all of it.

“Fuck, pretty.” His lips brushed yours as his fingers lightly squeezed your throat. He could feel the air leaving your tightening throat, and the way you squeezed his cock in response had him creasing his eyebrows with pleasure. “This what you wanted? You just wanted it rough, huh?”

You were nodding your head, breathless as blood rushed to your face, the lack of blood flow making you all the more delirious. Absolutely lost, so deep within your pleasure that your brain wasn’t working anymore. All that was consuming your mind was Logan, his scent, his sounds, the tip of his cock brushing that spot that had you squirming. You didn’t even realize tears were coating your cheeks, so lost that your moans had turned into cries. 

“Shh, it’s okay, you’re okay.” The hand on your neck moved to swipe away your tears as he leaned down to kiss your cheek in an attempt to bring you back to reality, the gentle gesture a juxtaposition to the ruthless drag of his cock. “There’s not a single thought in that pretty head of yours, huh?”

He adjusted himself above you, his chest pressed against yours, thick hairs tickling your skin with each deep stroke. There was a bit of smugness on his pleasured expressions, seeing you so utterly out of it, his cock being the reason. Seeing such a sweet little thing coming completely undone by his hand gave him a sense of satisfaction that made his cock twitch. 

He held your face, watching the way your eyes rolled back with pleasure, the crease in your eyebrows and your soft lips parted as filthy sounds left you. It was the prettiest of things.

“It just feels so good, huh? Can’t even talk.” he huffed a laugh, his nose brushing against yours as his free hand found your swollen clit and you were gasping as your thighs shuddered, sweet release building. “Talk to me, pretty girl. Tell me how good it feels. ‘Cause this sure feels so fucking good to me.” 

“Mhmm!” It took your brain a long minute to register his words, it was damn near impossible to focus on anything when his cock was making you feel so good, when you could feel your release so close. “Feels so good—Please, need it. Logan please.”

Who was he to ever deny his sweet girl anything? 

Logan moved his free hand to one of your thighs, holding it and bending it so that one of your knees was damn near next to your head. He drilled into you, fucking you into the matress and rubbing harsh circles on your swollen clit until you were nothing but a shaking, sobbing mess, filled with the neverending bliss of your release. 

“That’s it, atta girl.” He pressed his lips to your bruised lips, swallowing the pathetic sounds of your orgasm as he continued to chase his own. Your release seeped through his cock as his hand left your clit. He braced himself on the pillow beside your head he continued to fuck you into his release. “You’re doing so well sweetheart, take it just like that.”

Tears pricked at your eyes as you sobbed, the hairs at the base of his cock grazing your clit as he abused your hole. Desperate hands latched on to his hair as you held him, simply taking everything he had to give you. He was close, so incredibly close, composure completely gone from his body as he chased his release with selfish abandon. He dropped his face into your neck, sharp canines nipping at the soft skin, surely to leave a mark or two.

“Please Logan. Come in me. Please, I need it—” Though broken, in between pathetic whimpers you pleaded to him. And if he had any self-restraint left it was fucking gone.

The sound that rumbled in Logan’s chest was purely animalistic, a feral growl and the sound of metallic sharp claws rang in your ears next to your head. You gasped in pleasant surprise, moaning at the thought of him losing control like this. It should concern him, it should. But he couldn’t give one fuck. He coated your insides with his release, eyes closed and eyebrows creased into this twisted expression of rapture. With a couple final thrusts he pumped you full of himself until you were leaking around his cock. Only then did he still his pistoning hips. 

“Fuck.” You heard him grunt in your ear, followed by the sound of his claws sheathing back into his knuckles. Your eyes widened with aftershock and your wash chest was heavy as you panted. 

Logan lifted his head from your neck to look at you, heavy breaths leaving his chest as he tried to bring himself back to reality.

“I… I didn’t mean to..” He trailed off, though slightly apologetic as he caught a glimpse of the three punctured holes on your pillow, he did not regret it one bit. You were quickly shaking your head at him, a tired smile on your face.

“Don’t be. That was like, so hot.” You bit your lip, throwing your arms over his broad shoulders as you pulled him into a kiss. He hummed, hand beside your head as he brushed your hair out of your face. “You owe me some new pillows though.”

“Yeah? Might owe you more than that then.” A smug smirk replaced his concern as he rolled his hips, making you aware of his still hard cock, hot and heavy in your walls. You gasped, wide eyes meeting his own. “What? You thought I was done with you?” 

With a hold of your arm he flipped you on your stomach, the sudden movement making you whimper. But the thought of him taking you over and over sure had you eager in anticipation. Though as his cock sunk into your cunt once more you were beginning to wonder just how much your curiosity was going to cost you. Surely a whole day in bed tomorrow would be in order. He was so going to be the death of you. Little did you know, you were already going to be his.

[hypewinter]

Hear me out! Danny finds his human form slowly getting more eldrich as he gets older (and more powerful) and ends up going to Gotham where people are way less likely to ask questions!

Sadly when the people of Gotham see Danny, oops my shadow has eyes now, Fenton they just assume he's gonna be a new Rouge!

Que the bat fam watching Danny waiting for him to make his move, over-analyzing everything he does. Mans can't even buy a new laptop without Bruce breathing down his neck about it

This would be an issue if Danny wasn't such a little troll, and he starts buying more obviously ominous things only to openly use them in improperly boring and normal ways. Like buys a death lazer and can be seen using it to make toast, buys a cursed box full of death themed artifacts and uses it as a coffee table, that kinda stuff.

Every time the bat's assume 'this is it!' And gets ready to take him down, only to see Danny setting up a new 'coat rack' made of kriptonite

Even better when they see him tinkering on some kind of doomsday device, the kind that looks super evil and dangerous and even has a red count down timer on the front and- it's a fucking air frier again! He already has three! Why does he keep making air friers?! Obviously this must be some kind of scheme

I raise you: Danny starts selling his things out to random citizens (they've all been intensely screened). The bats panic thinking this is an attempt to cripple Gotham in one fell swoop. Nope. Ms. Randall just really needed a new air purifier and Danny had a toxin dispenser that was just collecting dust.

I imagine though that he might start to notice that the bats are focusing on him a little too much which is a problem considering there are things going down in Gotham that actually need their attention. But at the same time, our resident ghost boy isn't ready to stop being a menace just yet. So what does he do? Kill too birds with one stone.

Whenever Danny catches wind of a new plot going down, he does something to draw the bats's attention to it. Two Face planning a robbery? Suddenly Danny is showing up to the bank everyday to work on the vault (he offered to reinforce it for free). The bats get so suspicious they focus hard on the bank and discover Two Face's plot before he can do anything.

The bats pat themselves on the back while Danny giggles in the background. Wonder how long it will take for them to figure out what's going on.

[shuosen]

gojo satoru x top! amab! reader

cw: slight degradation, hair pulling, blowjob (r), slight choking, slapping if you squint, overstim?, stomach bulge

there was a very, very thin line between lust and fear that many don’t realize they’ve traveled. they stand to wonder if the shivers that wrack their body are from desire, or terror. Gojo Satoru, is not afraid of anything. he is the strongest, he knows he is the strongest. his confidence and strength has gotten him to where he is today- where is he?

he wants to say he’s currently wooing a woman, that he’s in a fight, and of course winning, but he cant. he cant say he’s out doing badass shit- hell, he can’t say anything at all. not with your cock stuffed down his throat, pulsing veins pressing against his flat tongue that struggles to maneuver across the girth of your member.

his large, strong hands shake helplessly in the air before he lays them on his thighs, gripping the familiar texture of his uniform. his eyes twitch before shutting tight, attempting to keep the tears in his eyes from falling, because gojo satoru does not cry.

he’s struggling to keep it together and you chuckle with as much amusement as one can manage, watching him flinch when the tight hand in his hair tugs harder. he wonders if this is what fear feels like, because surely this powerful feeling dwelling in his stomach and producing full body reactions is not lust. surely he is not lusting this hard for his colleague, and his friend.

your predatory eyes glaze over as he chokes on your cock, and you grip his hair at his scalp, thrusting into his throat and you’re sure you’ve successfully made any and all thoughts flee from his mind.

“you liking this, baby? hm? does my cock in your throat feel good?”

the only response you get are gurgles and useless whines as your cock and his spit clog his mouth, and you just have to grin at your hard work, finding pride in reducing ‘the strongest’ to a whore and a hole.

“thas’ right.. hu- fuck.” you mumble, rolling your hips into his mouth, listening as he chokes and gags each time your head presses into the back of his throat. It’s sloppy, he doesn’t know how to use his mouth for this kind of thing, but his throat closes around you with every gag and every sob he lets out, and he’s making you feel good even with no experience. you just think he is so pretty like this, face all red and messy, but you’re also sure he’ll be even prettier once you stretch him out and fill him up, and you know his noises will be music to your ears when you’re finally able to fuck him, so you pull out, taking advantage of his dazed state, listening to him sputter as you slap your cockhead on his lips.

“get up.” you order, grabbing his arm and aiding him to his feet, before shoving his face into the bed you were previously sitting on, listening as he gasps a deep breath. you waste no time grabbing both of his wrists with one hand while the other yanks his pants and underwear down to his thighs. the sudden movement makes him twitch in surprise, his fingers curling into his palms, a noise between a gasp and a groan leaving his lips as you manhandle his hips, moving him to your liking freely.

“shit, wait!” gojo stumbles over his words, trying to push his hips down and away from your hands, the snap sound of the lube cap somewhat ominous to his muddled brain.

“what?” you ask, bending yourself over his back, resting your chin against his shoulder and letting go of his wrists in favor of pulling his chin up from the bedsheets. “you want me to stop?”

he freezes at the question, something akin to a sob falling from his lips, because he didnt expect you to ask that and he sure as hell doesnt have an answer. if he says no, would that be stripping him of his pride? he’s a man with much dignity and little femininity. if he say’s no, he’s allowing himself to be fucked, which means he can no longer deny the lust and the longing for you, for your cock, but if he says yes, you’ll leave him here- his own member dripping and lonely, your burning touch fading from his body- and with a broken whine, he comes to the conclusion that the former is the better choice, letting himself go slack in your hold.

“no..”

“good boy.” you grin, and he flinches at the cold temperature of the lube pouring onto his hole.

it’s been hours- gojo thinks. hours since you first began prepping him, fingers sinking into his tight hole, stretching it beyond what he thought it could be, hours since you first sank into him, hours since your cock first grazed his prostate, and hours since his descent into becoming a brain dead cock whore began.

“A-auhhg! f-fuck! fuck!” He cries, his noises so loud that they almost drown out the slap of your hips against his ass and thighs, the reddening of them just one aspect of proof of how long you’ve been rutting into him. you wanted to be slow with him, treat him nicely and slowly unfold him beneath you, but these noises, seeing your cock disappear everytime you sink in, and the way his back arches was too good to resist.

you fucked into him harshly and deeply, your red, burning cock bruising his sweet spot with every sharp piston of your hips into his sloppy hole. he’s completely given up trying to save his image, the way he cries and moans and kicks as you take him is clear of that. he no longer cares about anything but you ruining his pretty, puffy hole.

the pace of your hips is so fast, and so rough that he cant register the difference between your thrusts in and your slides out, and he cant do anything but scream, his noises a mix of words, letters, and maybe your name.

through your own groans and puffs of air, you chuckle, something that sounds demeaning to his ears and he shrivels, a loud “n-no!” echoing through the small room, but neither of you know what he’s addressing.

“what’s wrong?” you huff, adjusting your grip on his waist, and leaning forward for a new angle. “HCK- Sh- Ughk!” he chokes, stuffing his face forward into the sheets and you click your tongue, moving your hand around, and pulling him up along with you by his neck, your fingertips squeezing the sides.

“i asked you a question, toru. you too fucked out to answer me properly?”

his breathing is heavy and labored and you laugh at his pathetic state once again. “whatever,” you mumble, letting go of his neck, allowing his upper body to fall onto the bed. “jus’ means im doin’ a good job.”

you grin, pressing a hand down on his back harshly, forcing an arch as you continue to rut into his sloppy hole. gojo yelps under you, his milky thighs shaking with the effort of holding his hips up, his hands gripping onto the sheets beside his head as if they’ll run away. you’re sure he’s cum multiple times untouched now, but every man wants pleasure on his dick, and maybe it was an act of mercy, or maybe it was just your evil mind, but you reached under him, squeezing his cock in your hold, beginning to jerk him off.

at the first feathery touch of your hand, gojo screamed, jolting forward, his legs kicking upwards, desperate hands trying to push yours away from his sensitive, leaking dick as you pound into his hole and jerk him off at the same time. “s-no! shit! cant!”

“you can.” your sentence is punctuated by a slap on his ass and his whole body jumps, his shoulders shaking as he curls into himself, and he looks small.

your thumb rubs over his tip continuously, and his hips buck so harshly your forced to let go, and your hand brushes over his stomach, feeling something that makes your hips stutter, almost pausing in their ministrations.

“fuh-fuck.. ‘toru, no way.” you laugh, bringing him up so his back is flush with your chest and you peer over his shoulder, delivering one deep, harsh thrust into him, confirming the cock bulge in his defined stomach.

a groan erupts from your throat, and theres no time wasted before your pressing him into the bed with your back and your hips, fucking his hole again, but this time- your sly hands rub his stomach, before pressing down with force, right where your cock is, and gojo squeals, his voice high pitched, desperate and messy like a common street whores.

the sound tips you over, your pace slowing, and gojo, as spent as he is, breathes a sigh of relief, taking deep breathes in, before pressing his hand against your abdomen, trying to push your cock out.

“oh? we aren’t done so soon..”

please like and reblog to show your support! this is my first piece of writing, and english is my second language, so i’m a little worried about how its come out. thank you! <3

[lxkeee]

Hi, could I request a Lucifer morningstar x darkness demon overlord reader? She lurks in the shadows like a boogeyman, she acts like morticia adams from the adams family, how would he meet or act around the gothic queen👁👁✨

LUCIFER X OVERLORD! FEM! READER

Part two

Lucifer was just wandering around hell, unknowingly entering a territory of an overlord.

He doesn't know okay? It's just a forest of dead wilted trees with ominous aura.

His first instinct is to investigate.

This is his first time coming here, he only discovered this area after flying by to return to the palace.

Lucifer was walking around the dense forest, with his guard up.

The forest was quiet. A little too quiet.

He isn't afraid, unfortunately. He knows he can kill any demon who would try to mess with him.

Crack. A twig snapped

His head whipped to the direction of the noise, “Who goes there? Show yourself!” he threatens, wings in full display.

Shadows moving around him and finally stopping in front of him, morphing into a figure.

Lucifer expected a lot of things, but this.

A very tall and gorgeous woman, large deer antlers on her head. Sultry eyes and a smirk on her face.

Oh fuck, she's beautiful. Dangerous. He can sense the power she has.

“Good evening your highness, I didn't expect to see you here wandering around my home.” the woman says with a chuckle, making the man become a little flustered.

“Your home...?” he asked hesitantly and the woman nodded.

“Yes, this is my home or rather my territory. My home is somewhere around here. I just sensed a presence around these grounds and decided to check. I didn't expect to see the king of hell to be here.”

“M-my apologies, my lady. I simply didn't know.” he stammers a bit. Ah, calm yourself Lucifer. You're more powerful so you shouldn't be intimidated, he says to himself internally.

“It is alright, if you don't mind. Do you want to join me for a cup of tea? I just so happen to have finished brewing some.”

Lucifer is cautious around sinners, especially her. He doesn't know why his heart is palpitating this much. The best reason he got is fear loud incorrect buzzer noise

“I don't want to intrud—”

“Nonsense! You're not intruding.”

“But—”

“Do not fret, I am not going to hurt you. I should be the scared one as you are much more powerful than me. I am sure you can obliterate my existence with a flick of your finger.” the woman laughs softly, a kind of laugh that reminds him of the books he's read. The kind of laugh that draws you in.

“How about this, how about we get acquainted with each other? So that you'll be more comfortable?”

Lucifer's eyes narrowed, “Why are you so insistent?”

“Well, I just love making friends and you my dear seem to be an interesting character that I don't mind befriending.”

Lucifer rolls his eyes but eventually nodded, “Fine, My name is Lucifer Morningstar.”

“Wonderful, then... It's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Lucifer, my name is [y/n]” She says before gently holding his hand and placing a small kiss on his knuckles.

With a smirk on her face as her eyes looked at him as she did so.

Lucifer's cheeks reddened, quickly snatching his hand away from the demoness.

“So, about that tea?”

Lucifer is beginning to see a pattern.

A type even.

It's been a few months since he's met the deer demoness.

Surprisingly he managed to get along with her, despite her... Rather questionable actions.

He often visits her mansion at the middle of the forest where he met her or the other way around.

She often surprises him by popping out of the shadows with her presence concealed.

She's playful, mysterious, dangerous, beautiful.

And tall.

He likes his women tall okay?

And he likes them a little deranged.

Anyways.

She keeps teasing him.

Just like the other day, he came to visit at the wrong time and she forced him to help her get dressed.

It was inappropriate! She only asked him to zip the zipper of her dress.

Poor guy was blushing.

She didn't make fun of his obsession with rubber ducks.

She even made ducks out of shadows and made it swim around his room and of course, he made one too with his powers.

The shadows and gold dust ducks swimming around the room and in the air.

It was... Cute...

Lucifer has gotten to know the woman better too, he has gotten the chance to see many sides of her.

Lucifer isn't stupid, he can tell he's developing feelings for her.

He's afraid, he's afraid of getting hurt again or hurting her.

He has issues he needed to fix first.

Though, he is slightly a flustered mess around the woman.

Can you blame him? She calls him endearing nicknames! She calls him sweetheart and it just makes his heart flutter.

He is cautious around her not because he's afraid of her but because he fears his feelings for her would accidentally be known.

And she just appears out of nowhere!

It took awhile for him to sort his emotions and he thinks he is finally ready to confess.

But first, Lucifer needs to find hints if she feels the same way.

“Thanks for the coffee, [y/n]. It tastes amazing as always.” Lucifer says, admiring the duck shaped cream that is floating on his coffee.

“It is a pleasure, sweetheart. Drink to your heart's content. I know you've been stressed lately.” She says with a gentle voice.

“I have a question.” he started, already planning a discreet way to ask her.

“Hmm? Go ahead.”

“What if let's say... You have a close friend and you've only known him for a couple of months but they fell in love with you and now they're planning to confess to you? Would you date him?”

Don't mind him guys, he's trying his best.

[y/n] tilts her head slightly, confused before giggling.

She's not stupid but she kinda wants to tease him.

“Depending on who this friend is.”

“Just answer.” he deadpans.

“Yes, would you confess though?” she asked as she leans forward to reach him across the table, holding his chin. Lips just a few inches away from each other.

Lucifer.exe has stopped working.

“Y-yes...” he stammers, beginning to feel shy as his cheeks heat up.

“Do you want a kiss?” she asked teasingly.

“Please...?”

“Good boy.” she says before finally pressing her lips against his.

It was the most addicting kiss he ever experienced.

“I like you.”

“I like me too.”

“[y/n]!”

“I am just joking, I like you too.”

[killerpancakeburger]

Imagine: Ghost giving you the shovel talk after Soap and you made your relationship official

It's the evening, you two are smoking outside in companionable silence, taking in the star-spangled sky. Suddenly his voice pulls you out of your daydreaming.

"So... you n' Johnny, eh?”

You feel an ominous shiver run down your spine - you do not like the turn this conversation is taking. His tone is steady, like it usually is, but it means nothing when that specter is involved. He could be slicing a throat and his voice wouldn't waver a iota.

If there was anything you learned about The infamous Ghost, in the absence of his identity and the face beneath the mask, it was that the names he used for the people he considered his family were anything but random. Soap was the most common way he refered to his Sergeant, but a Johnny could slip here and there. "Johnny" was personal; intimate; vulnerable; and possessive all at once. Not in the way an insecure lover would act - although...? Maybe...? -, but in the way a pack member would bare his fangs at a newcomer to protect his mates.

There was something animalistic buried within him that would resurface from time to time, when the risk was too great, when the survival of the 141 or of any of its members was jeopardized. Something you would not risk to vex. Simon was extremely protective behind closed doors, it wasn’t a scoop, but you thought yourself safe from his fangs... or at least you did until now.

"Yeah?"

How you hate the interrogation in your voice. As if you were seeking his permission. Like a child knowing they're asking for too much but doing it anyway.

You busy yourself with your cigarette, trying to look unfazed.

"He may sound like a fuckin' playboy most of the times, but he's actually a sensible kinda fella. Doesn't go around givin' his heart to just anyone, y'know?"

You gulp. Take a deep breath. The only way out is through. Might as well be done with it.

"So, is this the part where you swear that no one will ever find my body if I hurt him?"

You're proud of how casual you managed to sound.

He actually chuckles at that. A relaxed, raspy, unbothered kind of sound. Maybe you will walk away with your life tonight after all.

"Got it all figured out, don't ya? But that's good. Saves us some time."

He tosses his cigarette and, for the first time since you’ve been outside, he turns to you and look you in the eye. His stare is as intense as ever.

"We're in agreement, then? Ya'll treat mah boy well?"

"Wouldn't dream of anything else."

"Good lass."

A pause, then:

"This works both way, y'know that, right?"

"Hmm?"

Too busy celebrating your escape from the valley of the shadow of death, you haven't been completely paying attention.

"If he gives ya trouble, I'll knock some sense into that thick head of his."

You look at him again, your face beaming and your chest tingling with a newfound joy.

"Thank you."

You smile, unable to stop the motion of your lips. Your gratefulness is not for the threat he proclaimed, but for the friendship he extends to you.

He doesn't answer. He doesn't need to.

Suddenly a burly arm wraps around your neck.

"What were ya guys talkin' about!? You’ve been there for ages." Pouts Soap.

Glancing over at Ghost, you can see that Johnny has tried to grab him by the neck too, with a lukewarm success, considering the height difference between the two of them.

"Nothin' ye need to concern yerself with", retorts Simon, lying as easily as he breathes.

As Johnny turns to you in hopes of finding an easier target that will confess everything, you nearly miss the conspiratorial wink Ghost sends your way. The action is so far removed from his usual character, you understand that the discrepancy is made to amuse you. So you giggle.

Tonight the sky is full of stars, and your heart full of bliss, the way you feel like your chest might burst with happiness at any moment, with those two men at your side.

A/N: Platonic!Reader x Ghost my beloved 😫 🖤 Tried to make Ghost the less OOC as possible, as usual >_< but man its not a walk in the fookin park.

Trouple potential tho? 👀 sorry not sorry, I can't help it, I love the ambiguity...

[bamgyw]

˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ the second night ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

the spiritualization of sensuality is called love: it is a great triumph over christianity. - friedrich nietzsche

warnings: +18 getting hornier. pillow,, humping,, heh. a tiny bit of voyeurism as well? fingering. and a lot of male yearning we love that, we love a desperate man. a/n: team we made it to the smut. the hand kissing bit is kind of victorian. jane austen, even. but. i don't care. i’m not 100% happy with the outcome so it might get a little edited in the (distant) future, but nothing fundamental. this is a part of a longer work ♡ go to the beginning here

"i am a forest, and a night of dark trees: but he who is not afraid of my darkness, will find banks full of roses under my cypresses."

beomgyu stumbled upon that quote within the pages of a stolen copy of a book by nietzsche. he had always found himself more drawn to the destructive lunacies of clinically depressed germans than to the saving grace of the holy scriptures. there was no self-pitying in the bible, no self-indulgent sorrow to hold on to.

he had found that book, thus spoke zarathustra, in soobin's room, tossed in the trash. it looked almost new, so he took it out of curiosity.

"why are you throwing this away?" beomgyu asked.

soobin shrugged. "it's a good read if you're a happy person," he said. "but if you're miserable, it'll rot your brain. more spiritual talk and petty self-help in there than in the bible."

but beomgyu quietly took the book without soobin noticing, and he carried it in his back pocket ever since.

he had no intention of reading it from cover to cover, but sometimes he would flip absentmindedly through the pages, fixating on some passages. and that one specifically had reminded him of you. his new meaning. the rose he found in the darkness.

during the day, beomgyu usually roamed aimlessly around the town, drifting along with the rhythms of his headphones. that was pretty much the sum of his daily human activity since he quit college.

it was all he knew how to do, and often felt like all he was good for.

as he walked through the town, the familiar sounds of honking cars, distant sirens, and murmuring conversations mixed with the music in his headphones. the air was thick with the scent of seawater and the faint, sour smell of industry. it was a crummy town, sordid. each step felt heavy, purposeless, leading him nowhere.

he had a few favorite spots he liked to hang around - the port where the boats came in, or the grimy industrial estate where the addicts gathered. they all knew his dad pretty well. and maybe if they knew beomgyu was the son of the man who supplied them with their shit, they'd treat him better. but that's a secret he kept to himself.

instead, he joined in on their petty fights, easily swayed by whatever side fit his mood that day. he was better at fighting than them, but the victory was hollow. he was younger, his body was not rotten –not completely– and he had full motor control over his limbs. but he got pleasure from winning, anyway. he liked to exert some control over someone else for once. 

still, that day he didn't walk to any of his usual spots. he had been feeling a sorrow less violent, an ominous need for silence. his feet, barely in conversation with his brain, dragged him to the town's small church.

he had never really stopped at the church before, just passed by without giving it much thought. but now, standing there, he realized it was probably the most beautiful building in town.

every other construction felt fake, in plastic and plasterboard, but the wooden church had been crafted by the artisan hands of a carpenter and build up by a community. it seemed to be lovingly nursed, too. though the church meant little to him, it was obviously fundamental to others.

when lost and adrift, beomgyu would wander, getting into fights and ruining himself. but under similarly pitiable conditions, others came to the chapel like it was a second home, sometimes safer than their own. beomgyu wished he had something like that, too.

the building was small, but cute. surrounded by a little forest of old camellia trees, its walls painted a crisp white. it was an old building, but it was thoroughly taken care of. the air was different, cleaner, carrying the earthy scent of the camelliae and the faint fragrance of blooming flowers.

beomgyu liked how the wooden cross crowned the roof, marking the building, never allowing anyone to go astray. it must feel good, he thought, to have some guidance like that when you don't know where to go. a flower in the desert, a light in the darkness.

he knew he was being stupid and overemotional. he had never believed in all this religious stuff, and he never would. his relationship with god, if there even was one, was mostly based in resentment. if god was real, he could've treated him better.

and still, he didn't dare to enter the chapel out of some reverential respect he didn't even know he was capable of. so he just stood there, staring at the chapel, feeling small.

he took a deep breath. his cheek still burned where you had kissed him the night before. he really was going out of his mind.

"i want her so bad. and i think she might want me too." he prayed. to the church, to its wood, to the camellia trees, to the sky –he didn't know, he didn't care. "please let me be with her. please don't hurt her because of it, or shame her, or kick her out or whatever it is you do with sinners. i promise it’s not a bad thing. it’s so much purer than you think." he said.

no one answered, of course. there was just silence. some ruffling of the leaves because of the breeze, maybe the trebling chirp of a bird, but no answer. he felt like an idiot.

praying sucked, he ratified. how could you even make sure you were being listened to? it was emotional manipulation, playing with one's hope. feeling down and disappointed, he left.

˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

entering soobin’s house again would have felt like torture, were it not for the certainty that you lived there, too.

soobin never really left the house. he only went out to go to class in the mornings, and he still chose to skip as many as he could. not because he wasn't a good student, he was disturbingly accomplished. he just disliked the people.

every day, soobin locked himself in his room and studied relentlessly. he was determined to make something of himself and leave his stepfather’s house behind. he had a plan. beomgyu didn’t know the details of this plan—soobin never shared it, fearing it might be jinxed if spoken aloud—but it was clear that soobin believed hard work could get him out of that miserable house.

beomgyu thought that rhetoric too optimistic, alienated from reality. but still, he had some admiration for him. unlike beomgyu, who wallowed in his own misery instead of changing his situation, soobin searched for solutions.

beomgyu sometimes found him too sickly and rancorous, but he still looked up to him for his willpower. not that he would ever admit that to soobin.

so when beomgyu got to the house, certain that soobin would be there, he gave him a call. it was a code they had. soobin leaned out of his bedroom window, and threw down the keys for beomgyu to catch so that he could make his way in. 

as beomgyu climbed the creaky wooden stairs, he realised that the usual thrill and allure of sneaking around that house he had felt at night was dimmed in the daylight. he hated the smell of that place, too. the air inside was stuffy, filled with the faint scent of old wood and something slightly medicinal.

as he reached the top floor on his way to soobin’s room, he passed by a closed door. pristine surface, painted white. he knew immediately. a pink mother-of-pearl crucifix hung on the wood.

he stood in front of it, his heart quickening. inside that room lived his little bird, trapped in an evil cage. his angel, his obsession. he gladly would’ve shattered the door with his own hands. let his knuckles bleed, let the splintered wood stab into his fingers. he just wanted to take you away and set you free.

at first he maintained a cautionary distance. he feared that if he got any closer, he would actually do it. but then he saw the little plaque under the cross, in sterling silver, shining when the light hit it. he approached to read what it said.

"the lord is faithful. he will establish you and guard you against the evil one." it said.

beomgyu scoffed, a bitter smile curling his lips. like some metal plaque could protect her, he thought. he's the only dangerous thing in her life. that superstitious fool.

he found it bitterly amusing, to the point of feeding his ego. some cultures hang garlic on the doors to keep away the vampires and the witches. your daddy had hanged a nacre cross to keep choi beomgyu away from you.

he let his hand reach for the crucifix. he traced his fingers over it, middle and index. all the doors had a crucifix of their own, but yours was the only one that wasn't a choppy piece of wood, crude and utilitarian. his thoughts wandered as his fingers brushed over the cool, smooth surface. he must be aware of how pretty she is, beomgyu thought.

as he did, a noise startled him. he jolted away from the door, retreating as far as he could. only when he saw it was just soobin coming out of his room did he catch his breath.

“you were taking too long,” soobin said, his expression gloomy. “i didn’t like it.”

“you care for me that much?” beomgyu asked, a bitter grin spreading across his face as he walked up to him, hands in his pockets.

"well, i let you into my house, didn't i?" he asked, accusative.

"you did." beomgyu replied. “it's not versailles, but it’s cute. lots of quirky decorations.” he shrugged, poking at the crucifix that hanged on soobin’s door, tilting it slightly. "it's like a theme park."

"eveything’s a joke to you." soobin replied. he seemed distrusting, his chest filled with something he probably shouldn't say. but he did, anyway. “you need to forget about her."

“what are you talking about?” beomgyu raised his tone, a flicker of panic crossing his eyes, quickly masked by anger.

“i know you. you’re going to let your impulsiveness ruin everything for all of us. it won’t end well.” soobin said. “she's not like one of those girls you used to pick up at private schools. if you want to manipulate your way into someone's pants, choose someone else.”

beomgyu’s anger flared. how dared he imply those were his intentions? how dared he assume he had any other purpose than caring for his angel and godsend grace?

he took a violent step towards soobin, who flinched slightly but held his ground. “you think i’m dorian gray or some shit?” beomgyu retorted. “you're just pressed because i'm not a pussy like you, restraining yourself to please that maniac. but whatever happens, it won’t be because i forced myself on anyone."

“she doesn’t know what she wants." soobin said. "she’s confused and love deprived.”

“and you’re a patronising asshole,” beomgyu snapped back. "who are you to say anything?"

“you’re playing with fire. if you wanna be a psychotic masochist, fine. but don’t drag others into your mess. get yourself hurt if you want, but leave us out of it.”

“us?" beomgyu asked with a wicked grin. "she's an adult. she can make her own choices. and if your stepdad wants to mess with her because of it, it´ll be over my fucking dead body."

“is this how you repay me for letting you stay in my house?” soobin asked, a mix of hurt and frustration in his eyes.

“thing is," beomgyu began with a cynical laugh. "this isn’t about you. you shouldn’t be this bothered,” he said. “and if you are, maybe you should check yourself and see if you’re acting like your stepfather.”

soobin’s knuckles turned white, but he took a deep breath and held it in. “just. don’t do it." he said through gritted teeth. "it’s not worth it.”

but beomgyu grinned wickedly. he had one last bombshell, one last thing to get soobin fuming. “i’ll let you know if it's worth it or not when i have your sister go dumb on my cock.” he said, feeling a twisted sense of satisfaction.

he shouldn't have said it.

instead of getting angry, as he had intended to accomplish, soobin smirked, too. it was unsettling. beomgyu got a ghostly feeling about it.  "what is it?" he spat out.

soobin inclined his head slightly towards the room with the mother-of-pearl cross—the room of his little bird. beomgyu turned just in time to catch a sliver of a prying eye, peeking through a barely open door. your eye widened when it met beomgyu’s gaze, then you vanished, the door slamming shut.

shit. beomgyu's heart raced, his breath hitching.

soobin smiled, a hint of triumph in his eyes. "consider her warned."

˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

late at night, thoughts of you consumed beomgyu’s mind. he knew he had fucked up. he knew that now you probably thought he was a creep and never wanted to see him again. his mind raced, replaying the words he wished he could take back.

he could’ve played his cards right. go slow, ease you into it. but he wasn't that sure now. the uncertainty gnawed at him, twisting his insides with each passing thought.

soobin's room felt even stuffier than the night before, the air heavy and oppressive. the walls seemed to close in on him, making it hard to breathe. the need to see you pressed down on his chest, but lingering doubt kept him glued to the mattress.

a lone fly buzzed around, its annoying droning echoing through the room and fraying his nerves. each pass it made seemed to grow louder, amplifying his sense of confinement, maddening him.

his mind wouldn't shut up about you. you had struck him as someone who knew how to watch your back. he recalled how cautious you had been around him the previous night, like a dog used to being beaten flinches at the sight of a stick. but your eyes had never left his. not for a second. they seemed innocent, but not naive.

he liked that, he thought. that you were like him, smartened up by your environment. but he liked the innocence too, so much. an untouched you, drowning in chasteness and self-restrain.

uncaressed belly, uncaressed thighs, uncaressed sweet pussy. he could make you feel so good. that was all he could offer, all he could give you. he had nothing else.

he knew he should let the thought go. that he should start wrapping his mind around forgetting about you. but it was late, and he was tired, and the only picture that lingered in his mind was a pearl choker and a rosary over a tender neck.

with soobin's steady breathing beside him, perhaps even asleep, beomgyu lay staring at the ceiling. images of you fluttered behind his closed eyelids, all imaginations of his lovesick mind. illicit, probably, but fated.

he thought of your pretty lips whispering praises meant for him, kissing his cheeks, his jaw, the curve of his neck. he wanted to know the taste of your mouth, the softness of your touch.

had you even been kissed yet? with a father as twisted as yours, it seemed unlikely. beomgyu wanted you to never have been kissed. he wanted to teach you how to do it himself. eat your mouth out, nibble at your lips and press them gently. but not hurt you. that was new. 

he would start slow, so that you’d want more of him. then he'd deepen the kiss, his grip on you tight, giving into whatever you asked for, never letting you go hungry. the tingling started, the blood pumping.

pause. he thought as soon as he became aware that he was getting hard. his rational mind tried to assert control, to rein in his desires. you loser, just by thinking of kissing. be cold-minded. a voice told him. actions have consequences. 

the voice sounded a little like him, but it was surely an imposter. if it wasn't impulsive and hot-blooded, then it wasn't choi beomgyu. 

"i just want to apologise." he lied to himself as he sat up all of the sudden.

he slipped out of bed, his bare feet padding softly against the cool floor. he moved slowly, mindful of the creaking floorboards that threatened to betray his movements.

but a subtle rustle, not caused by him, echoed in the quiet room. the soft shuffle of fabric against skin. soobin was awake, and he had wanted to let him know. but beomgyu couldn't begin to care.

as he closed the door behind him, trying to make as little noise as possible, a sudden thud reverberated through the silence. "shit!" he cursed under his breath. another door in that corridor slammed shut with a resounding roar.

someone left a window open. air currents cause noise, beomgyu mused as he made his way down the dimly lit corridor, his steps quickening with purpose. tomorrow night, he thought, he would make sure all windows were closed before going to bed.

as he travelled the shadowy corridor, he got a chill. he kept hearing the ruffling of fabric, a doorknob twisting, steps against the wooden floor. a shiver went down his spine, but he told himself to forget about. it was all in his head.

he refused to let the silent threat your daddy stop him from seeing you. that liar, that imposter, that self-proclaimed god keeping everyone hostage in his castle of authoritarianism and indoctrination.

when he got to your door, the mother-of-pearl crucifix halted him like a policeman. it seemed more commanding now than it had earlier. it was stupid, he thought, how the night enhanced every feeling. 

the cross regarded him and he regarded the cross. “i just want to apologise,” he told jesus christ. “i said something stupid earlier today, and i wanna make better.” he tried to convince him.

it was just a symbolic plea. a desperate attempt to absolve himself of guilt, to make him feel less lustful, less like a pig. to find redemption in the eyes of a higher power. 

he thought about what soobin had said, about god, about your father, about right and wrong. maybe he wasn't as smart as he thought. maybe he was loosing the game and they were all making him go insane for good.

he debated whether to just turn back after the thought came to him that you didn't even want him there, anyway. how could you want him at all, after just one meeting where all he received was rejection?

sure, he got a quick kiss in the end, but it didn't outweigh the pulling away, the uncertainty, the avoidance. what was he worth, really? nothing. not even worth enduring a scolding from your dad, let alone the weight of guilt. he was making a fool of himself. better leave now before anyone got hurt for nothing.

but as he turned to walk away, his heart heavy and ready to toss aside, he heard a noise from inside the room.

a whimper. it was so faint he was sure his febrile mind had made it up. that he was so schizophrenically in lust he had made you escape that sound in his brain. a whimper. a sweet soft whimper. 

he tried to make sense of it by convincing himself that he heard you crying. he even allowed his sense of self-importance to fuel thoughts of bursting into the room and offering you his shoulder to cry on. to cuddle you, to comfort you.

but when he heard it the second time, his breath caught. this time it was a moan, unless his yearning mind was deceiving him. he pressed his ear to the door. he clearly heard a trail of soft muffled moans. restrained, but just so lewd to his feverish self. his face burned, his cock twitched.

index and middle finger reached slowly for the doorknob. they brushed over it, hesitating. maybe it was locked. and maybe that was for the better. the hand wrapped around it, twisted it slightly. it was open.

holding his breath almost to asphyxiation and in the most silent motion he had ever performed, he peaked in. 

god existed, he found out. his mouth went dry. like a bird in the clouds, surrounded by snowy plush blankets, he saw his little dove making herself feel so good against her pillow.

facing away from him, your legs draped on each side of it. your hips swayed, heavy and slow, as you tried to suppress the soft whimpers your throat escaped.

beomgyu pressed his lips together, teeth sinking into his lower lip until almost drawing blood. the messy nightdress, one delicate strap slipping off your shoulder. how the the silken fabric fell over your ass, not letting him see but inviting him to find out.

he wanted to see your doll face twisting in pleasure so desperately. to have you take in his cock and use him to fuck yourself so sweetly like that. only one door was stopping him. the door with the pink mother-of-pearl crucifix.

as though hypnotised, he quietly entered the room.

but when the door closed behind him with a click, you whirled around, eyes wide and breath catching in your throat. he froze in panic, too, as he saw how frightened you seemed. what the fuck were you expecting, you disgusting perv? came in the voice in his head.

your instinct was to retreat like a scared spider, flitting towards the head of your bed. fluffy white pillows framed your trembling body, with only a glimpse of your leg peeking out. your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, almost to an unhealthy degree, as you tried to cover yourself.

beomgyu took a cautious step forward, his obsession with you feeling safe in his presence outweighing how turned on he was. "please," he whispered, desperation in his voice. "don't be embarrassed." he said. or be. you're so adorable, all flustered like this.

"i… i'm sorry," you stuttered, your words hesitant.

beomgyu raised his eyebrow, an endeared chuckle escaping his lips. "you're sorry?"

"i shouldn't have… i…" you struggled, avoiding his gaze and pressing your hands to your head in frustration. anxiously, you began to hit your head with the heels of your hands. "i'm so pathetic."

without hesitation, beomgyu rushed closer, wrapping his hands around your wrists in the world’s softest handcuffs. "not at all," he murmured softly, his voice soothing as he attempted to coax your frightened gaze to meet his own.

quietly, almost reverently, he knelt at the edge of the bed, perching himself over the mattress like a praying supplicant.

he was so fucking hard, his blood boiling inside his pulsating veins. scorchingly, painfully. his hands trembled a bit on your wrists as he struggled to contain himself, like the scorpion resisting the urge to sting the frog and drown them both.

“i loved seeing you like that.” he managed out, eyes fixated on yours. “i’m the pathetic one, i sneaked in here like some creep. i... i'm so sorry about what i said earlier today. i was mad at soobin, trying to get under his skin. but i'm kinder than that. i can be, for you. you shouldn’t be scared of me. please.” 

"i’m not." you said.

"good," he said. "i want you to trust me."

"i think... i think i do."

beomgyu took one of your hands, already entwined with his, and raised it to his lips, planting a delicate kiss on the back. you didn't pull away, though a slight flinch ran through you. his voice, soft and concerned, cut through the quiet, "is this alright?"

you met his gaze, his eyes looking up at you dilated and pleading like a puppy's. you nodded silently, allowing him to continue.

he pressed his lips against your skin a few more times, the wet sounds his mouth made filling the room. with a heavy breath, you took in every detail of his gentle kisses—the way his plump lips pressed and nibbled at your skin, how slow, almost ritualistically.

"what were you thinking about?" he asked, his voice a muffled purr against your skin.

"w-what?" you stammered, trying to buy time as your mind raced to come up with a lie less embarrassing than the truth.

"you were so pretty like that just now, all spread out like a good girl...” he murmured softly, "tell me what got you like that."

you stalled. with an achingly slow movement, you mirrored his action. you brought his hand to your mouth, and brushed your lips over it. barely touched, almost imperceptibly.

a shiver down his spine. a sting to his heart. he watched you in awed stillness, his watering mouth half-open. then you whispered, "you."

"fuck, i– i want to do so many things to you. if you'll let me." he said. a blush crept across your cheeks as you instinctively tried to shy away, but his fingers beneath your chin guided you back to meet his gaze. "what did i do to get you like that? was it because of what you heard me say?" he asked.

"because of everything." you replied.

he moved up from the floor with deliberate slowness, each motion purposeful as if he were approaching a skittish forest creature, determined not to scare it away. cautious, he inched closer, finally settling beside you on the bed. "tell me." he said. "i wanna hear."

"you're smarter than daddy," you began to say, your voice mumbled, as you gazed at him, his features so close you could count the flecks of gold in his eyes. "daddy thinks he's god's chosen one, but you keep outplaying him. so what does that make you?"

"a hellhound," he replied with a cynical smile, drawing even nearer.

"no," you said softly, shaking your head in disagreement. "you're good. and you're sweet to me." with tender care, you brushed his bangs, your fingertips delicately tracing the contours of his face like a child exploring a new toy. you lingered over his brows, his long lashes, the graceful curve of his cupid's bow, and the strong line of his jaw. "and you're… really pretty."

an impulse like a mighty wave of devotion pushed beomgyu to cup your face, his thumb tracing delicate lines over your skin as he asked, voice barely more than a whisper, "have you ever been kissed?"

"yes." you nodded. though there was a flicker of fear in your eye, like he would've been disappointed at that lack of purity. but if he did, he said nothing.

"show me how you do it." he urged, his words a gentle plea as he drew closer, his breath mingling with yours.

you leaned in painfully still, the weight of his gaze bearing down on you. but just before your lips met, you paused. hesitated. this changed everything. but beomgyu met your gaze unwaveringly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of regret or doubt. then, with a soft smile, he encouraged you forward.

you brushed your lips against his, ever so slightly. it was a trembling little touch. chaste. when you pulled away, beomgyu's eyes remained fixed on you, half closed and drunk in longing.

he gently pivoted the hand that had cupped your face, trailing its back along the curve of your cheekbone to finally rest it at the nape of your neck. "so pretty," he whispered. "why are you so scared?"

"i don't want to disappoint you," you mumbled softly.

beomgyu's response was immediate, a fervent shake of his head. "never," he insisted, his voice a husky plea, "you're doing so well. please, kiss me again."

with trembling fingers, you reached up to his neck, your heartbeat a wild rhythm in your chest. you nestled his upper lip within yours. a little more intensely this time, but still experimental, like you were gingerly trying to color within the lines.

beomgyu was gone. you were so soft and plush and just so scared to do anything wrong. he lingered, his thumb tracing the outline of your lips. "they're mine now," he said in a low growl.

he took over, giving you a deep wet kiss. unrestrained, heavy like a lion’s roar. as you moved your lips together, beomgyu demanded more and more, leaving you breathless. one of his hands rested on your thigh, tentatively stroking, fondling over the skin, as if to soothe you, to tell you everything was alright.

he tilted his head, seeking depth in your mouth. one of your hands traced up the length of his chest and reached his neck, which you squeezed tightly as you felt his mouth opening yours to let his tongue in. you tensed. he noticed. “do you like that?” he asked, breath heavy.

“i... yes."

and so he did it again. another painfully lusty kiss that left your lips soaked and swollen. you escaped a moan that he loved so desperately, making him bite on your lower lip, drawing another embarrassingly whiny whimper out of you. after a softer peck, he outlined the bitten skin with his tongue.

he devoured your lips again, eating out your mouth. he slipped his tongue back into your mouth to circle yours, playing with it; then he pulled back, as if urging you to follow him. he wanted you to try yourself.

his hand on your thigh moved to embrace your waist, fingers poking into your skin. you felt firm, secure. in the middle of the unbridled kiss, your tongue ended up in his mouth. so soft. my good little girl. he let out a grunt of satisfaction. happy with his reaction, your instinct got you to hold on to him tighter, trying to find a closeness that was impossible in that position.

he got frustrated at it, too, his groans turning into hummed pleading moans against your lips. for a painful second, he pulled away to say, "let me watch you fuck yourself, just like you were when i came in. please." he said. "would you be comfortable with that?" he asked. 

you nodded slightly, though you weren't even sure you were telling the truth. they were irreconcilable, avoiding embarrassment and giving in to the aching sensation in your pussy the moment he spoke those words.

he stretched his arm out toward the pillow, gently offering it to you, observing as you knelt on the bed and retook the position he had found you in. he helped you through it, caring for you with caresses and soft kisses, but he went back to seat at the edge of the mattress, gnawing lightly on his lip with anticipation. you didn't want that, you realised. you wanted him close.

you reached out your hand for him to grasp, "what is it, baby?" he asked, tending to you with gravity.

you guided him towards you, maneuvering him to recline half-seated against the bedhead. he caught on to your intentions and leaned in to give you a gentle peck before allowing his hands to settle on your hips, helping you in adjusting the pillow beneath you.

now on all fours, with him facing you, he noticed you wanted to say something, the words lingering on your lips. "is everything alright?" he asked, his hand tenderly caressing your arm.

you stammered a bit before shyly asking, “can you keep on kissing me?”

he smiled fondly. he would never in a million years be able say no to you. “of course, my angel.”

he drew nearer, his proximity warming you up. having him there like that, you didn't need to support yourself on your arms- instead, you found yourself instinctively clinging to his neck. with a mellow kiss and his hands firmly securing their hold on your hips, he led the start of the back and forward motion.

the first reactions the rubbing of your clit against the fabric drew out were subdued, mere soft moans and gentle breaths mingling with his the plush of beomgyu’s lips. but with his grasp pressing you down, those initial movements evolved into more intense and profound ones.

he let one of his hands abandon your hips to entwine his fingers in the strands of your hair. the louder your moans got, the tighter his grip on it. he was so hard, with no escape for it. but he liked the pain, the desperation. "you sound so beautiful, fuck–" he breathed out. "but i'm gonna feel so much better than that."

the promise echoed in your mind, getting you to let out a crying plead, "p-please, beomgyu..." you moaned out, as you fumbled with your hand to find his.

"you want me to help you out?" he asked, almost like it was a privilege.

"mhm," you whimpered with a sheepish, frantic nods.

"cute." he breathed out. his face was flushed and burning hot, his cock ached uncomfortably, but he spartanly focused on his little angel’s pleasure above anything else.

he wrapped his arms around your waist and took you to his lap, where he held you tight. "are you comfortable like this?" he asked, placing a a soft peck to your forehead.

"yes." you answered, embarrassingly. you were wet to the point of dampening your inners thighs, and you were mortified to have him see, to even stain him. but he'd notice soon enough.

he grunted as he kept on kissing down your face. your temples, the tip of your nose, the corner of your mouth, your ridiculously tasty lips. he held on to your waist for dear life with one of his arms, but allowed the other to travel down, slowly and deviantly towards your virgin pussy.

"you're soaked, my baby." he breathed out. you would've felt self-conscious at the exposure, but you saw in his eyes how bad he liked it. how starved and aroused he seemed when he began to caress your wet cunt with his slender fingers.

his cold touch startled you at first, making you hold on to his neck tighter. you were too sore, too sensitive. "don't be scared. i'm gonna take such good care of you," he said. "i promise."

tentatively, he stroked over the surrounding area of your aching centre, index and middle finger touching softly over your wetness. he performed circling motions in your clit, taking his time. getting to hear you. “b-beomgyu, you—god—you feel really good…”

he learned that when you liked something he did, you'd shower him in desperate soft pecks, like a puppy licks your hand after you pat its head. he wanted to see you react further, he wanted to try it all. he spread your pussy with both fingers and pressed forcefully against your throbbing clit with a third one. startled, you clutched his hair so firmly you feared you might have hurt him.

as by instinct, your thighs twitched from the overstimulation and seemed to want to close around his hand, but he didn't let them. he shushed into your lips with a soft "shhh," soothing as the seashore before leaning in for a honeyed kiss. he traced patterns against your cheek with his nose after pulling away. "its alright. you're doing so fucking well."

he let you catch your breath, but not for too long. he quickened his pace, your moans getting too loud, wept out and filthy enough to horrify all the saints in the house of god. it became a duel of you trying to suppress yourself and keep it quiet, and beomgyu trying to get everyone in the house to know how good he was for you.

to restrain the growing sound of your moaning, you buried your face into beomgyu’s neck, trying to muffle your voice against his body. but he huffed into your ear, "don't hold back. only you and me matter, no one else."

"i think i–" you whimpered into his ear, choking on your own puffs. the pleasure crept up on you, becoming too strong to bear and making your whole body shudder against his. "beomgyu, please..." you cried out.

he saw how close you were, and quickly thought if he should or should not stop it. tease you, edge you, have you go on all night. he could do so many things, he ached so much to do them all. but as he saw your pretty face so desperate to cum, how needy and palpitating, you were, he decided he had all the time in the world.

his movements quickened, each motion filled with urgency and strength. his veiny, strained forearm bore the weight of the world as he got you to your peak.

you came with a stifled cry but you muted your voice against his neck again. he wished he could've heard it in its full, piercing clarity, but he understood. you were so sheepish, his perfect little girl.

he didn't pull his hand away immediately, instead letting you feel his warmth for a little longer as you trembled against his chest. "my baby, you did so well," he whispered into your ear, his voice a soothing balm as he gently cradled your body.

now that the tension had drained from your limbs, you found yourself collapsing against him, your body limpy and worn out. it was then that you noticed the bulge in his pants. "beomgyu…" you murmured, your voice heavy. "teach me how to help you out."

"forget about me," he replied with a gentle smile. "i just wanted to get you to trust me tonight. to show you how good i can make you feel." 

you gazed at him, cherishing his handsome features. his cheeks were flushed, too, and his eyes so gentle. you couldn't help but cup his face in your hands, drawn to him. but as you leaned in to kiss him, he stopped you faintly, saying, "wait. don't kiss me. i want you to have something to look forward to, so you'll be excited to see me again tomorrow."

"you'll come back tomorrow?" you asked, your eyes lighting up with hope.

“i couldn’t stay away even if i wanted to,” he replied. but as he said it, he noticed a flicker of guilt crossing your face. gently, he brushed a strand of hair away from your reddened cheek. "how are you feeling?" he asked softly.

your gaze darkened slightly. "like i shouldn't have done it," you admitted. "like daddy saw everything."

"i'm… sorry," beomgyu said, his voice full of consternation.

"no, it's not your fault. those thoughts aren't real. i can make the guilt go away, in time," you reassured him. "but i like it when you hold me. that's real. i… like you. a lot, i think."

beomgyu didn't even know what to say. he struggled to understand how this could be wrong to any human religion or faith since the dawn of time, because to him this felt like heaven. he held you in his arms, all flushed and a little tired, your lips swollen like ripe cherries from the kisses he had given you. this was fucking nirvana for all he cared.

he deeply regretted his no-kissing rule, and he sought to end it immediately. he leaned in, but you stopped him.

"no," you chuckled, "don't kiss me. i want you to have something to look forward to so that you're excited to come back tomorrow."

he smiled back at you, like an absolute fool. maybe he was in love, even if it only had been a day, whatever. but how could he not be when he had the cutest being in existence all to himself? "give me a gift before i go, then," he said. "something i can carry with me.

"what do you want?" you asked.

"this," he said, pointing at your rosary beads. with a gesture that felt almost ceremonial, you took off the pendant and placed it around his neck. as you did, he couldn’t help but stare at your lips. "can’t i kiss you just a little?" he pouted.

you shook your head with a soft giggle. "your rules," you reminded him. "be stronger."

“fine. have it your way.”

he smiled, but it quickly vanished as you remembered him; “you should go. or soobin will know.”

he nodded, eyes filled with disappointment. the moment you lifted yourself off his lap, detached yourself off of him, an intense wave of pain surged through both of you. like a limb had been atrociously ripped off your body.

but just as he was about to leave, you grabbed his wrist, halting him. “beomgyu, wait,” you called out, rising to your knees to meet his gaze.

you pressed a gentle, lingering kiss on his cheek, just as you had done the night before. the softness of your touch sent a shiver down his spine. as you pulled back, beomgyu instinctively leaned forward, craving more. but you placed your index finger against his lips, stopping him. “you’re so weak,” you teased with a playful glint in your eyes.

he smiled ruefully. “i am,” he admitted with a sigh, the weight of reality settling back in. he really had to leave. “good night,” he murmured.

stepping out into the dark, the world felt colder, and his eyes struggled to adjust to the dimness. he lingered for a moment, leaning his back against the door, not wanting to leave just yet, but his head bumped against something.

of course.

he turned around to regard the crucifix, holding the one you had given him in his hands. same color, same material. a bittersweet smile played on his lips. “she was so good,” he told jesus christ. “and i think i made her happier, just a little. i feel a little happier too. i told you, it was much purer than you think.”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ next part

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ so. i really struggled through this one. lemme know what you think.

[satorusugurugurl]

Hiii can i request reader x gojo, where reader keeps ruining his orgasm n just messing with him? And he’s all whiny and begging and shit? 🥺👉👈

Cranberry Juice and Rings

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x FAB!Reader

Word Count: 1,725

Warnings: Edging, orgasm denial, smut, whinny Gojo, dirty talk, sexting, toys

A/N: Ah, nothing like a good old whing Gojo fic! I love whimpering, groaning men!

Satoru was known by many as a pain in the ass. He was arrogant and cocky, but that didn’t stop you from loving him. He was one of your favorite people, a goofball, and he spoiled you rotten. You couldn’t have asked for a better partner.

But he was Gojo Satoru. Some days, he was unbearable to deal with, even for you. Days like today, for example. You had gotten a nasty UTI and were on a strict sex ban for a week. Gojo had been kind the first few days, picking up your prescription along with cranberry juice and supplements. By day four of the sex ban, he was pent up and decided it would be fun to tease you relentlessly. He started sexting you, sending you pictures and voice memos that had you clenching your thighs to try to ease the throbbing between your legs.

Satoru: I’m so sweaty! Look, it’s running down my V-line, baby~!

You: Stop trying to turn me on asshole. I literally cannot flick my bean or have sex for the next three days.

Satoru: Oh? That sucks for you. I don’t have to deal with that.

The man then proceeded to send you a video of him jerking off in the bathroom. If you didn’t feel like razors sliced you each time you used the bathroom, you would have found him and made him pay for a new pair of underwear and take care of the mess he had turned you into. However, the unpleasant throbbing between your legs prevented you from acting upon your desires.

You: Keep it up, Satoru. I will make you regret your choices.

Satoru: Oooh, I’m so scared~!

Your dear, sweet, idiotic boyfriend did not heed your warning. He only seemed to get worse after your ominous threat. Three days of torture later, Satoru eagerly ra into your shared condo, his calendar chiming with a reminder today was the day your medical sex ban was lifted. He has a week's worth of pussy eating to make up for, and he planned to take his time with you.

”Sweetheart!” He sang out, making his way through the condo. “I hope you’re ready!” Stepping inside the bedroom, Satoru blinked, finding you sitting on the edge of the bed in your sky-blue lace set. “What a good girl you are!” Drooping to his knees before you, he clapped his hands together. “Thanks for the mea—“

”Shut the fuck up and get on the bed.”

The stern tone of your voice has Satoru staring. “I’m sorry?” His smile was full of confusion as he forced your legs apart. “I said thanks for the meal, didn’t I?” Satoru began to dip his head between your thighs, but before he could reach your sweet, dripping core, you put your foot on his forehead, pushing him away. “Hey!” His bottom lip stuck out in a pout.

“Didn’t I warn you I would make you regret sending me all those thirst trap pictures and messages?”

”H-Huh?”

”I said, didn’t I warn you I would make you regret your choices?”

”W-Well, I m-mean you did, but I—“

”Good, boy.” A round silicon ring hit him in the face. “Now put that on and get on the bed.” Gulping, Satoru shakily did as you commanded, regret setting in the pit of his stomach as he did.

Any hopes for mercy went out the window as you bounced up and down on his cock as he sat upright against the headboard. You were grinning, hands gripping his shoulders as you came around him, pulling off, denying him the pleasure of feeling your cum, denying his orgasm for the third fucking time.

”F-Fuck Toru~ you’re such a good dildo.”

”S-Sweetheart—please, baby, I need you.”

”You need me?” You questioned with faux sympathy. “Oh, sweet boy, am I teasing you too much?” A delicate hand wrapped around his red throbbing length, the cock ring preventing him from cumming, thus making him ten times more sensitive.

”A-Ah! Yes, yes, baby, please, please, I need you!” Blue eyes watched as you stroked your hand up and down, pre-cum dribbled out of his tip, running over your manicured nails. “Oh fuck, I can feel it, keep going, keep going don’t stop!”

“Yeah?” Satoru cried out as you wrapped your other hand around him. Your hands squeezed his shaft as you moved them up and down, smirking as he whimpered, eyes transfixed on your tiny hands as his mouth opened in an ‘O’ shape. “Are you close, Toru? Are you going to make a mess for me?”

“Yes! Yes! Yes!”

”Gonna cum pretty boy?”

”Fuck yes! Oooh fuck I’m so close, so fucking close, almost there, almost there!”

The second you saw white lashes flutter, you yank your hands away, preventing him from reaching his sweet release. Your boyfriend’s eyes narrowed and shot open in disbelief, focusing on the throbbing, swollen red tip that sobbed pre-cum instead of actual cum. His dick looked as upset as him, the intense orgasm fading.

”Babe!” Satoru threw his head back against the wooden frame with a pathetic whine. “I wanna cum!” Reaching out, you gently rubbed the pad of your thumb over his bottom lip.

”You wanna cum?”

”Yes, so bad!”

You straddled his hips with a hum, lowering yourself back down onto his velvety shaft with a satisfied moan. “Well, that sucks for you, I don’t have to deal with that.” You quoted his text before dragging your tight wet pussy up and down his swollen cock.

Satoru cried out, whining as you used his cock like it was a sex toy. This was literal torture, feeling your wet, warm walls clamp down around him, watching you tilt your head back in pleasure. Even hearing your moans fill the bedroom was driving him insane. You looked so hot and beautiful when you used him like this. He just wished he could be holding onto your hips, fucking his cock up into you, filling you with his cum as you both lost yourselves in pure orgasmic bliss. Lips moving against lips, swallowing each other, moans as you came down.

Instead, Satoru was crying out, whimpers sounding in the back of his throat. His hands fisted the sheets as he bit down on the inside of his cheek. He had thought teasing you this week was all fun and games! Get you all worked up and desperate for him to rearrange your insides. In his horny mind, it was like mental edging without touching

Yourself. What a terrible mistake that had been. The only one having fun and getting off at the current moment was you. While he suffered from the worst case of blue balls in his entire life.

“Shit! Oooh, shit!” Your brows furrowed as you cried out, reaching down and rubbing your clit. “C-Cumming~! Cumming Toru!” Just as your orgasm hit, you pulled off of him, squirting all over his stomach and cock with a squeal.

“F-Fuck, oh god.” Satoru quickly grabbed his cock, stroking himself off while you came all over him. “So hot~ so fucking hot!”

You recovered just in time to see Satoru jerking himself off, the tips of his ears turning red as his eyes began to roll back. “Nuh-uh!” swatting his hands away, Satoru groaned. “Bad boy!” When he reached for his swollen cock again. You grab both his wrists, pinning them down on either side of him. “I said no!” Poor Satoru cried out in frustration, tears welling in his eyes.

“Sweetie, baby, please.” He sobbed, cock dribbling more pre-cum onto his lower abdomen. “Please let me cum, please, baby, please! I'm sorry I was such an ass this week. I won't ever do it again!” Fingers gripped the sheets underneath him. “Please let me cum! Please!” Those tears filling his eyes finally spilled over his white lashes, staining his flushed cheeks.

“Oh, my baby~” Leaning in, you locked the salty tears up with the tip of your tongue. “You learned your lesson?”

“Uh-huh!” Satoru hiccuped as more tears streamed down his face.

“You see how it's not nice to tease? How cruel is it to cum in front of your partner when you're unable to do anything?”

“Yes! I’m sorry, honey! So sorry!”

Releasing both his wrists, you grabbed the sparkly blue cock ring that was securely on his base. “Good boy, Toru.” As soon as the toy was off, Satoru shoved you off, pushing you into the mattress. “Ooh fuck!” Giggled erupted as he threw both your feet over his shoulders before sliding into you.

“So good! S-aS good!” He cried out, throwing his head back, crying softly, and he slammed on and out of you. “I’m going to cum! Please cum with me! Milk my cock, baby! Milk it!”

“Yes, Toru! Cum inside of me, baby!” Your fingers found your clit with ease, rubbing it back and forth, whimpering as Satoru twitched inside of you. “Cum on, baby~ cum for me!”

Satoru’s jaw dropped open, eyes clamped shut as he cried out. He was crying out your name, whining, and whimpering like a cat in heat. Thick ropes of cum painted your insides, filling you to the absolute brim, leaving you crying out with him. He rubbed his hips against you, only stopping when his eyes rolled back, dizziness overcoming him.

He collapsed onto your chest, full weight resting on you as he whimpered into the crook of your neck. He could stay like this forever, but just as he found himself dozing off, you were tapping on his shoulders. Lazily lifting his head, cerulean eyes met yours.

“Five minutes; I’m pushing you off if you stay inside me any longer.”

“Huh? Why?” Your boyfriend panted out.

“The last time we fell asleep like this, I got a UTI!”

“Mmm, it’s fine.” he’s sleepy, wrapped his arms around you. “Just five minutes.” you relaxed against him as he agreed on your time limit. “I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you too, Satoru.” as he snuggled in closer, humming sleepily, you smiled, fingers brushing strands of hair off his brow. Maybe ten minutes wouldn’t hurt.

Forever Tag List!

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness

[lovelynim]

Victoria Housekeeping co.'s special service

Zenless Zone Zero - Lycaon x Wise

A/N: This time I can only thank an anonymous supporter for trusting my skills, ehe ~ I'm not playing ZZZ and I didn't look too much into it, but I think I managed to do a good job.

Also, thanks @/wertzunge for beta reading this one for me!

Summary: Instead of doing her chores, Belle decides to hire Victoria Housekeeping's services to do it for her... and to do something else to her brother

Word count: 1020 words

“Coming…” Wise mumbled, heading towards the door after hearing someone knock thrice on the other side. Having to stop in the middle of his chores wasn’t exactly appreciated, but the possibility of a new customer waiting outside gave him just enough motivation to do so.

“Hello,” the proxy said, trying to sound as friendly as possible, “are you looking f- w-woah…” Wise stopped mid sentence at the sight of a tall, ominous and… fluffy figure. “Ahm, c-can I help you?”

“Victoria Housekeeping, at your service,” Lycaon announced, bowing slightly as his tail swished behind his back. “A full service was requested by master Belle. Is this the correct address?”

Wise nodded, still a bit stunned. His sister left not long ago - just after getting a hearing from him from not cleaning up her bedroom - and he was already accepting the fact that it would be on him to tidy up the place… Wise never expected Belle to actually hire someone to do the job. “V-Victoria? Wait, you guys actually do housekeeping services?”

"Our services are varied. We take every job that our staff see fit to fulfill.” Lycaon explained, a gentle yet firm voice tone as his cold gaze laid upon Wise. “I take you’re master Belle’s brother, master Wise. May I come in?”

Right. “Y-yes, that’s me. Please, come in,” Wise nearly stuttered, quickly stepping aside to allow the Thiren to enter his place. The proxy felt a weird sense of shame when Lycaon seemed to inspect the place so thoroughly, almost as if it was some sort of crime scene. “Ahm, sorry for the mess. I was about to clean it up and-”

“No need to apologize, master,” Lycaon interrupted, the sound of his metallic legs echoing as he turned around to face Wise. “That’s what I’m here for. Master Belle requested a full housekeeping and ‘care’ service.”

“I see,” Wise sighed. “Let me show you around, then.”

“As you wish, master,” Lycaon responded promptly, following Wise with absolute elegance in each and every action. A true gentleman, if you asked Wise.

In their short walk around, Wise decided that his bedroom would be a good place to start. It was where he was the most comfortable and familiar with and, if Belle indeed hired a ‘full housekeeping service’, then cleaning his room should also be part of the pack, right?

“This is far better from what I’ve expected, master,” Lycaon praised the proxy as he slid his fingers over one of the shelves, trying to check if there were any particles of dust laying around. “I believe this is not the main part of the problem, is it?”

“No, it isn’t,” Wise chuckled, sitting on the edge of his bed, “I- well, I thought it would be the easiest to start from, so I decided to show you this room first,” he explained, quickly using the excuse he just came up with.

“Then,” Lycaon turned to Wise, his tall figure towering over him as he stood inches away from Wise’s seat, “do you mind if I start with the second part of the service, master?” Lycaon suggested, holding his hand behind his back.

“What do you mean?”

“Master Belle requested a full housekeeping and care service,” Lycaon explained politely, “with your permission, I’ll do the cleaning once I’m done “taking care of you”, as she described in her request.”

Wise had a puzzled look on his face. What kind of thing did Belle hire? Taking care of him? “A-ahm, sure? What did she ask you t- WAH!!”

“Excuse me, master,” Lycaon muttered gently in a paradoxical contrast with his actions. With great, yet careful, force, the Thiren pushed the proxy back into the mattress. In a swift of Lycaon’s tail, Wise was straddled by cold, metallic legs that firmly pinned his body.

And, before he could figure what was going out, one of Lycaon’s hands closed around both his wrists, keeping them above his head. “As per request by master Belle, I need to inform you that this is for ‘scolding her and being so picky about her bedroom’, master,” Lycaon nodded, following the protocol like a true professional while… merciless tickling Wise’s body.

Big, yet nimble hands scratched and tickled up and down Wise’s side, pinching the spots between each of his ribs and prodding at the middle of his armpits. A mix of embarrassment and confusion struck Wise, but there was no room inside his brain to process all that when all he could think of was how much it tickled. “L-LYCAHAHAON!! AHaHAHAh, wahAHAHait a sehEHEhecon!”

“I apologize, master,” Lycaon muttered, his free hand torturing Wise’s exposed and vulnerable armpit with a ticklish onslaught, “I’m here under master Belle’s orders and her only. I’m afraid I can not follow your requests,” he explained, his hand quickly shooting down and tickling Wise’s waist like it has never been tickled before.

“P-plehehease!! AhAHAhah, i-it’s baAHAhad, LycaHAHAHON!!” Wise could feel the heat spreading over his cheeks as he laughed, all happening so fast and so suddenly that he could barely hold back his reactions. Why did they even have services like this?!

Still, Lycaon was merciless - an unstoppable, unyielding and ticklish force. It tickled so bad and he was still using just one hand!

…

Wise stared at the ceiling with a blank expression, his eyes gazing at the nothing while the sound of vacuum cleaner echoed from the other room. Even after receiving Lycaon’s 5-star-rated aftercare, he still felt like his body was drained of any energy. His stomach and cheeks still sore from laughing and, if he closed his eyes, he could still feel that lingering sensation of Lycaon’s fingers tickling him.

“I’m almost done with master Belle’s room, master,” Lycaon announced, turning off the tool before starting a different task - probably folding her bed sheets or something else. “Would you like something to drink once I’m done, master?”

“N-no need,” Wise sighed, the sound of his own laughter still ringing inside his head. Belle, that brat… Still, he shouldn’t give a negative review to Lycaon, right? It wasn’t like he did a bad job anyway…

[brucewaynehater101]

Ok ok fuckin" hear me out!

Feral bby man Tim who can't get anyone to Robin for Batman but also doesn't wanna steal Jason's things(aka: robin) himself so goes full silly man and trains himself to snap between human and not-human-what-the-fuck-are-you????? Super quickly and procedes to stalk(Ominously stand on buildings while in not-human mode) Batman on a patrol to confront him and claims to be the city spirit of Gotham and he better start behaving or he'll revoke his blessing/protections.

Lady gotham(the actual city spirit) finds it absolutely hilarious and helps sell the bit. Tim is so focused on staying not-human during encounters that he doesn't notice, but Batman absolutely does.

Tim: "I am the city spirit of Gotham!"

Batman: *looks at what's obviously a child, if not a really creepy and weird child* "Uh huh."

Tim: "You will stop your pummeling!"

Batman: *glances left and right to try to find the kid's parents*

Tim: "I, as Gotham, will not let this continue!"

Batman: *takes a step towards Tim*

Tim: *slithers like a cockroach rave party into the shadows and disappears*

Batman: "Are they gone? What the fuck?"

Bruce isn't bothered by Tim's weird antics. He starts to get a little freaked out when he notices Gotham is helping him, but that doesn't bother him. He is kind of pissed and upset a child is following him around, but what is he going to do? Call this kid's absentee parents?

Goons, on the other hand, want whatever the fuck is following Batman to stop. A few have pissed themselves in terror as they cried. They're still not sure how it moves like that, but that can't be a human child.

Tim's internet history to learn how to be creepy is certainly interesting. It would be hilarious if he got training from Shiva for that as well

[yanderederee]

MeetMyGang

April25th, 2004

a/n: Please enjoy!!♡ // BajixTutor!Reader series // ct:fluff

lol lowkey inspired by this behind-the-scenes clip of the live action actors having a push-up contest!

before › now! › after

Just after the events of Rooting for You!

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✦

“Bring her by next meeting,”

Mikey ordered.

Baji sweat under the intense seriousness Mikey was radiating.

“It’s really not what you think, M-“ Baji tried to disagree, but Mikey simply wasn’t taking no for an answer.

This was an order, not a request.

“I just wanna meet her!” Mikey pouted. “Anyone who can get You to stop on a rampage is worth meeting.” Draken agreed, smirking at Baji. “It’s not everyday we get to see Baji Keisuke shy,” Mitsuya shoved Baji playfully. “She’s got to be a saint of some kind to put up with your stubborn ass!”

Baji groaned, glaring at each and every one of the Toman founders, who were simultaneously grinning wickedly back at him.

“I said, no.”

He was determined.

Everyone went quiet, and soon all eyes landed to the ominous aura in the air: all eyes on Mikey.

Baji wasn’t budging.

“Fine,”

Mikey shrugged, outwardly appearing indifferent. “Not like I can force you.”

And that was it.

The meeting ended.

That was way too easy.

Baji didn’t have a good feeling, when the room started to file empty.

“Good luck,” Draken, the last person in the room, had sighed, before leaving Baji in a cold sweat.

— April27th, 2004

“Hmm~mh-mm~”

Whisper

“Who is that guy?”

“I’m not sure, be looks like he’s waiting on someone…”

“He kinda looks.. like a delinquent, doesn’t he?”

“Well he’s driving a bike, so…”

“Maybe he’s waiting on a girlfriend?~”

“Don’t joke like that! Who would even…”

Whisper

“Yyy/nn-chinnn~ y/n-chin~” Mikey whistled to himself, scanning the ocean of student heads while he wait leisurely on his CB250.

Baji was PISSED.

“What is that guys deal?!”

“Who?” You asked, behind him like a little duckling.

“No one!” Baji bit back full force, practically red, trying to hide Mikey from your window viewing pleasure.

Barely taken aback, if at all, you hummed casually before shrugging. “Guess I’ll go find out ~” you gathered the last of your materials before pulling your bag neatly over your shoulder and starting your way towards the door.

“Wait!” Baji tried stopping you, but just as he reached for your hand to try and halt you, you did a quick sprint to the door, avoiding his touch. You grinned wickedly, yet so sweetly, actually, wait, what was with that giggle? He was so caught up in how cute you looked giggling at his bewildered expression, that he lost sight of you completely.

“Shit, wait, y/n!! “ he yelled, trying to make quick work to catch up to you. His glasses slid, the frames blocking his vision only for a moment, enough to make him bump against the door way in his quick pursuit.

“Damnit, Chifuyu!” Baji yelled, and up popped Chifuyu’s blond helmet. “Yes sir!”

“Don’t let Mikey get ahold of Y/n!” He ordered, and just like a good subordinate, Chifuyu clicked his heels. “GOT IT!”

As Baji and Chifuyu both went different directions, Ryusei couldn’t contain his laughter. “What the hell is going on?”

Just outside the school entrance, you snuck to-and-fro between mingling students to make sure you went unseen.

You were just curious after all. Baji never wanted to introduce you to any of his friends, and while it wasn’t like you two were dating, but you were curious about Baji’s personal life.

About his super cool biker gang friends!

You peeked a spying eye out past the gate, scanning the area to spot the culprit of Baji’s stress. It didn’t take long, given the low rumbling of an engine.

Biking boots.

Loose black trousers.

A white belt.

An oversized white v neck, shoulders covered with another school’s jacket. Not the same Tokyo Manji uniform you’d seen just the other day.

And as your gaze wandered to meet the face of this lazily dressed delinquent, you made direct eye contact with Manjiro Sano.

Your heart stopped. What kind of presence was this, that you were feeling? It felt like the wind had been knocked right out of you. Your lungs deflated and suddenly you were lightheaded. Were you holding your breath? Why couldn’t you breathe? Why was he looking at you so intently? Like you were—

“Y/n!” Whispered Chifuyu, bringing you back to reality.

But just before he got his hands on you, so had Mikey.

“Y/n-chin!~ there you are, I was looking for you!” Mikey laughed happily, his bike’s kickstand having been shoved in the ground with haste.

“Too late, shit-“ Baji hissed, just making it in time to witness Mikey holding your hands in his with glee. “C’mon, before your boyfriend snatches you away,” Mikey grinned at you, then glancing at Baji, who seemed to hear every word.

“You low hanging bastard! Don’t you dare—“ Baji started, but it was too late before Mikey was pulling you past your restrains- over and onto his bike, sitting in front of him.

“WHAT THE HELL!” School be damned, Baji couldn’t hide the hot rage that came from Mikey’s overstepping. But even when he tried reaching the two of you, Mikey was already throttling the gas.

The last thing Baji saw of you was your mildly worried expression.

“Seee ya~” Mikey laughed, so so very clearly amused, before riding away full speed.

“Mikkkeeeeyyyyy…” Baji was boiling over, further and further as the day went on.

Couldn’t he just respect one thing? One? Baji said no, No, damnit!

“Baji, we should follow them,” Chifuyu spoke, as though there wasn’t all hope lost. “C’mon.”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✦

“‘The hells your problem, knock it off!” Baji yelled.

Everyone was just surrounding you— trying to get a look at Baji’s Girlfriend. Or, that was the rumor.

“Baji-San has a girlfriend?!”

“No way! She’s just his tutor!”

“But he brought her here! That’s strange!”

“It’s unlike Baji to bring someone…”

“Shh he’ll hear you!”

“I didn’t say anything wron—“

“QUIT WHISPERING I CAN HEAR YOU BASTARDS!”

Baji groaned. This was the worst.

Chifuyu had good intentions, bringing you around to get a better understanding of who Baji really was, the side of him you didn’t know anything about.

And now here you were in the heart of it, and you looked amazed.

“Is that a real tattoo?” You asked one of the guys, peeking when the thug drew back his sleeve to show it off. “No, fuck off.” Baji pushed past, taking you away from the crowd.

“H-hey! Baji,” you tried to argue, but he wasn’t having any of it. “Don’t care, we’re leaving.”

*reader begins using Baji instead of Kei/Keisuke while in front of his friends, to avoid being seen as disrespectful*

“Woah woah! Where’s the fire!” Smiled a nice looking boy with short hair and a cross earring. “You must be the famous Baji charmer,” he opened his hand to you, to which you shook politely. “Name’s Mitsuya, Mitsuya Takashi.”

“Nice to make your acquaintance Mitsuya-san, I don’t much about charming, but I do my best to keep Baji on top of classes.” You giggled.

Mitsuya paused, starring at you for a while, charmed. Quickly, he looked back up to smirk at Baji. “Lucky bastard.” He almost soluted before giving your hand a final squeeze, and backed off.

But you were a popular guest star, it was only a matter of time before you were swept away again. Much to Baji’s dismay. In the crowd of delinquents, it was getting hard to keep track of where you were being taken.

“Chifuyu, I’m about to lose it.” Baji informed, ready to throttle the next guy who put his hands on you. Chifuyu gulped. “J-just, hang tight boss!” He groaned, dreading the turn of events.

“I-is THAT a real tattoo?” You gasped, the next time you were spotted was with Draken, who was crouching for your convenience and chuckling at your bright eyed excitement. “I-is it a dragon? How cool!” You threatened to trace the ink outline.

“Ken Ryuguji, nice to meet you,” Draken had introduced himself, now standing up to full height.

“Wow, even your name means dragon? That’s kind of bad ass, right?”

Draken laughed, like you’d just said a hilarious joke. “It is bad ass isn’t it!” He laughed even harder. “She’s great, you should’ve brought her around sooner, Baji!”

And while Baji was off fuming, you stood there happily content.

“Hey, yaknow, I’m like, way stronger than Baji, right?” Mikey grinned, leaning in for a fake flirty gesture. Stalking you like a shadow, Mikey’s been having you make your rounds, all within his own supervision.

Mikey did find you rather adorable, after all.

Mikey liked the way you handled yourself, composed and confident in a crowd of scary looking thugs. He liked the way you respected them and treated them in a friendly manner. But Mikey really liked the way you smiled, the lovesick doe eyed puppy that adored Baji. He knew you and Baji were in the process of becoming an item.

But you weren’t yet, so he thought it no harm to pseudo flirt before Baji could have a valid reason to tell him off.

“I saw the way you kick! I was really impressed,” you praised him with an admiration. “Considering Baji is the strongest person I know, I suppose I’ll have to take your word for it.”

This seemed to light a fire in Mikey. “Oh no, take more than just my word. Baji! C’mere so I can kick your ass!” He joked loudly.

Baji was almost thrilled when he finally found you again. And what made it all the better was the way you jogged over to be by his side.

Your presence alone was enough to allow him catch his breath.

When he looked down at you to assess your comfort levels, what with being pawned around like a shiny new toy, he was released to see your carefree smile.

“I’m also way stronger than Baji, by the way.” Out spoke Pah, almost startling you.

“Oh really? Maybe we should test which one of us is the strongest!”

“Stupid~, I’m just gonna win! Don’t even bother,”

“Now that’s a challenge I think I’ll take you up on.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you guys!”

…

And that’s how you ended up refereeing Toman’s first official strength and endurance competition.

Between Mitsuya and Draken, you made sure both of them seemed prepared enough for your the starting signal.

“… Go!”

And in traditional arm wrestling fashion, the twin dragons fought with all their strength, gripping for dear life to not be the loser.

They had a good few seconds of beefing back and forth, but soon became obvious it was Draken’s game.

“No fair! No one can beat Kenchin at arm wrestling! This is rigged!” Mikey yelled from the sidelines, not eager to be the one to follow up.

Next in the lineup, they wanted to try push ups. All ready in position, in a line so everyone was visible.

It didn’t take them long to tire themselves out— only a few seemed like they never would stop.

“Just give it up Mikey, I ain’t losin’ to you!” Baji huffed out, still fighting Mikey’s childish need to win. “You’re just sayin’ that cause you’re getting tired~ I could keep this up for hours!” Manjiro quipped back with barely a huff of exertion at all.

All that remained was Mikey, Baji, Draken and Chifuyu. Though, just as they rounded off to the fifteen minute mark, Chifuyu practically lost consciousness. And Draken honestly started getting bored.

“This is fun ‘n all, but don’t you guys have better things to do?” Out emerged another girl, with long blond hair. A wide smile bloomed over your features when you saw her.

“W-wow, you’re like, really pretty… Oh! Um, s-sorry, hi, I’m–“ you tried to introduce yourself, but Emma already knew. “Y/n, yeah, heard lots about you just from passing through.” She held out her hand to you, smiling in unison.

You shook her hand happily, “So, is it true?~ Are you and Baji shacking up?~” she whispered with a grin. Your face heated up dramatically at her question and shook your head. “No! No, n-not like that! We just go to school together!” You defended.

“Hmm~ if you say so.” She let off. “I’m Emma, by the way. Mikey’s my brother, if you couldn’t tell.”

You blinked a few times, turning the idea in your head. “Oh, that makes sense! You guys do look alike!” You nodded, and looked over at Baji and Mikey still squabbling on how to settle the score.

“Oi! Come on! We ain’t got all night!” Draken called to them, now that he finally had his fill of the excitement. “Just settle it with a good ol’ fashion fist fight and be done with it!”

Both Mikey and Baji huffed out some kind of reply, to their feet. “I’m so going to kick your ass.” Baji glared at Mikey. “Oho~ I’d like to see you try.” Mikey grinned back.

“Are they always this competitive?” You leaned closer to Emma in inquiry. “Yes, literally all the time.” She replied quickly, a unanimous nod waving over all else who heard the question.

That made you smile.

Overlooking the petty little dispute, you couldn’t help but feel warm inside. Before, you’d only ever seen Baji with a mild temper, holding his tongue and being the voice of reason in some cases. His thick rimmed glasses hid half his face, and you’d have never guessed his hair was actually as long as it was with the way he tied it back.

You began to fall for him ever since you saw the way he took such good care of the injured kitten, barely a month ago. You began noticing the cracks in the character he played up, and found it cute. The way he would stifle curse words, diverting his ever growing tempter.

Until eventually he began also showing interest in you as well. Meeting you anytime you asked for his presence, gradually asking you more about yourself, and reassuring you about things you couldn’t control.

This, too, was Baji Keisuke. Hot tempered, brash, snarky, confident, handsome… you knew you liked Baji before you knew how he really got along. He was a gentle person underneath it all. He loved animals, just as they loved him back.

Would you have feared him, if you saw this side of him before meeting him in school? Surely not, you’d been surrounded by delinquents for the last hour, and felt no discomfort whatsoever. That had to mean something, right?

“You got this, Baji-san!!” Chifuyu yelled out, snapping you out of you day dream. Everyone was cheering all around you as the fight was in full swing. Push after hard punch, they were fighting for blood. It took you off guard at first, the blood, but this was normal for them.

A swift kick to the side of the head, a block to counter, Baji looped his arm around Mikey’s foot to falter his landing. Before he could meet the ground, Mikey used his palms to push off, and send his uninterrupted foot under Baji’s chin to clock him in an undercut fashion. That definitely had to hurt.

Yet they fought on. In amazement, you starred. With everyone else cheering, the hype of battle began building inside you, until you felt ready to burst. “I believe in you, Kei!” You yelled out. In front row, he definitely heard you. It felt embarrassing having a girl root for you so explicitly, but damn did it work to fuel the fight in him.

Baji grinned wide, regaining his composure. His next punch really hurt, you could tell. Mikey’s expression was a dead give away of that. “Damn, you really pack a punch whenever your girl’s involved,” he teased. “Maybe we should bring her around more often.”

“Try it,” Baji bit back, taking the initiative. The two have sparred so much in their life, they could read each other’s moves easily. And Baji knew Mikey was losing on purpose.

Sure, losing to Baji left a bad taste in his mouth, losing in front of you tasted even more bitter. But at the end of the day, Mikey knew Baji really cared about you. He would have chances in the future to sweep you off your feet and let you reconsider who you liked best. But for now, he wouldn’t dare ruin the glow of excitement that lit up that cute face of yours.

“Winner! Baaajiii!” Draken’s voice rang with a roaring hoot. All of Toman hooted back in response, all in good fun. Mikey could afford losing petty fights in front of his subordinates every now and again. He was still The Invincible Mikey, and he’d be sure to whip anyone who actually questioned that standing.

You jumped in excitement at the declaration, clapping for your classmate. “Way to go Kei!!” You called out happily.

Baji knew he won by default, but he didn’t really care to rebuttal the outcome. Not when you looked so happy. He grinned at you and rolled his eyes. “Had it in the bag,”

“Mmhm~ good fight.” Mikey chuckled past the two of you. “Meeting adjourned!”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✦

“See you ‘round!” Called out another Toman member, zooming past on their bike. You waved back politely, standing back while Baji worked on getting his bike ready to go. “Y/n~!” Emma caught your attention, hugging you warmly. “Nice to meet you, make it home safe, kay?” She smiled.

You smiled back. “I’ll be sure to do that! Make it home safe!” You waved her off when she hopped onto the back of Mikey’s bike. “Don’t be a stranger~” Mikey called back with a wide grin and a wave.

Baji rolled his eyes, and roared his engine. “Come on, I’ll give you a ride back home.”

You paused, worried. “Don’t you usually drive home with Matsuno?” You asked. Chifuyu grinned and patted your back. “Sounds weird having you call me that, just call me Chifuyu, alright?”

“And second, don’t sweat it! I can walk home just fine.”

You gave a weary look. “Well, if you’re sure..” you said uneasily. “Hop on,” Baji encouraged, leaning the bike to one side so you could get on easier.

A few attempts later, you only managed to get yourself situated onto the back of the bike by using Baji’s shoulder for leverage.

Holy shit, Baji only just realized. You were so close. Way too close. Chest pressed flush to his back, you shakily gripped the sides of his uniform. He could feel you breath against the back of his neck.

Your legs felt weird being so close to the hot metal of the exhaust pipe, but Baji assured you it was probably safe.

(*please wear a layer of fabric to separate your skin from touching exhaust pipes/bike motors! It can in fact burn you if you are not careful!)

“Don’t worry so much, you’re fine. You rode on Mikey’s bike just a while ago, right?” He tried reassuring you when he started for takeoff.

“Y-yeah but I was sitting in front that time!”

“You want to sit in front now?” He joked.

“Can I?”

“No, that’s dangerous as hell.”

You laughed. “Then why’d you ask?”

“It was radical.” He rolled his eyes. “Rhetorical!” You yelled back.

“Whatever.”

[thewertsearch]

FUTURE terminallyCapricious [FTC] 0:42:00 HOURS FROM NOW responded to memo. […] FTC: HEY BEST MOTHERFUCKING FRIEND. FTC: what all seems to be the motherfuckin problem? :o) […] CCG: OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD FTC: i'm in your future, best friend. FTC: I KNOW WHERE YOU MOTHERFUCKING ARE. FTC: and what you'll motherfuckin do. […] FTC: and also. […] FTC: i'm all about to be meeting up some friends. :o) […] FTC: i wonder if you can all be at with me in time and make me get my reconsider on?

... is it just me, or does it kind of sound like Gamzee's asking for help here?

Instead of directly threatening his friend, he's asking if Karkat will help him 'reconsider' - almost as though there's a piece of him that doesn't want to be trapped in a murderous rage, and it's trying to make itself heard.

Do I spot some ominous purple text in the corner?

I do.

Well, Terezi isn’t the worst person for Gamzee to run into on his rampage. A Seer like her will immediately understand that he's snapped - and she's no slouch in the combat department, either, so I don't think she'll be easy pickings.

Things might get dicey, however, if Gamzee pulls out the power he used against the Black King. We have no idea what that even looks like - but Terezi does, so she at least shouldn't be blindsided by it.

Anyway, what does our resident detective make of the dearly departed Tavros?

Before the full investigation is underway, a legislacerator will always have a chief suspect in mind. The one she will hold guilty until proven otherwise, a process customarily taking place after the execution.

That sounds about right for the Alternian ‘justice’ system. I’d ask what happens if a suspect is proven innocent after their execution, but that presupposes that Alternia even has a concept of 'proving someone innocent'.

In any case, a stopped clock is still right twice a day, and Terezi's corrupt methods have lead her to the correct culprit. What's her next move?

Above, you detect faint traces of what you reckon to be special stardust, such as the kind left behind by the flapping wings of a mischievous fairy.

I knew Terezi’s sense of smell was impressive, but I didn’t think she could go full bloodhound. She really is the most well-equipped troll for this new, more dangerous Veil.

And not far from that, you detect bright trails of white light. It smells... hopeful.

All three killers are in the vicinity, then.

... look at me, already calling Gamzee a killer. To our knowledge, he hasn't harmed anyone thus far - but I'm fully convinced he intends to, based purely on the strength of his most recent Pesterlogs.

The writing there was genuinely impressive. In just a few dozen lines, Hussie has completely sold me on the idea that the funny meme clown is dead fucking serious about violently murdering his friends.

[lialox]

What if oldest dream behind the wall was Tls123?

“We’ll still stick together from now on too, so why do you sound so grimly determined? Don’t worry. No matter what kind of a monster is waiting for us, I’ll finish it off.”

I gently smiled. Meanwhile, the subway was slowing down even further.

My reflection could be seen in the black window of the exit door. There was a splatter of blood on my cheek reflected on the glass. I wiped it off my face. And then, my mood cooled down.

⸢The blood was really on my cheek, and not on the window.⸥

“Doors are opening!”

Along with Lee Hyunsung’s cry, everyone got ready to fight.

“....Ng?”

However, contrary to everyone’s nervousness, what greeted us was a rather empty subway platform. Sure, there were a few people walking around in the surroundings, but none of them paid us much attention.

“What’s this, there’s no....”

Jung Heewon muttered that out, and as we stepped onto the platform, I was overcome with an ominous foreboding. There it was, the unfamiliar sense of reality touching my feet. Faint sparks, along with every single one of my Fables, were pointing in a certain direction.

⸢Someone was sitting on the subway’s bench.⸥

Black athletic wear as if its wearer had just gone out for a run. A beautiful woman was slouched on the bench, unflinching in her sleep even with the bustle of the crowd around her. The short crop of her hair lightly caressed her cheeks.

As the pulsing migraine assaulted me, I somehow managed to lift my unmoving feet.

⸢Kim Dokja made a promise. To end the culprit who made this world. No matter what that existence was.⸥

There were deep bags under the woman’s eyes. It was as if she hadn’t slept properly in years.

⸢Time isn’t moving because not reading and not imagining.⸥

I did think that all of this could be a dream, a lie. I even believed that this was a dream the evil <Star Stream> had created.

I even believed that I could have been the monster waiting past that wall.

But this person, I didn’t expect her to be the one past the full stop. To have met a writer at the place where the creator of a universe of stories resides…

⸢Y ou we re al rea dy ex pec ting this di dn’t you Kim Dok Ja.⸥

Before any story could be described, before it could be read, it had to exist in one person’s dream first.

The author’s.

The Most Ancient Dream. The world’s most omniscient yet powerless god.

“I… am Tls123?”

Han Sooyoung was the first to speak. Her eyes were trembling.

All of my senses were gnawing at me; they said that that woman was the culprit behind all these scenarios.

It was the same for my companions.

I thought I heard something fall to the floor, and I saw Jung Heewon’s sword rolling around on the ground.

“Ah, ah....”

She was now looking at her. She was looking at the woman, then back at Han Sooyoung. Her eyes were filling up with despair.

As if she couldn’t believe this. As if she’d prefer that this whole thing turned out to be a lie.

[The promise with the ‘Secretive Plotter’ is activating.]

I opened my mouth only to close it several times. Maybe, this might be my punishment.

For daring to dream of a perfect ending in which all of us survived. To have come this far, and shed blood for such a hope.

It was as if the universe was telling me there was no such thing.

The Star Stream wasn’t like that. This was a universe of sacrifices and salvation too, was a paid service.

[You have promised to destroy <Star Stream>.]

[<Star Stream> will not be destroyed unless the ‘Most Ancient Dream’ is ended.]

I now stared at the woman.

The woman who gave me every reason to survive in this ruined world.

[Please end the ‘Most Ancient Dream’.]

+++

Sparks overflowed above my Incarnation Body. My heart was madly pounding away. My head faltered, and I somehow managed to suck in several deep breaths.

[The 4th Wall] was right. Maybe, I already knew.

There were simply too many hints.

⸢I was far too lucky in this world, and⸥

⸢Everything in this world seemed to be geared towards my convenience, and⸥

⸢At times, this world even felt sloppy.⸥

If all of these were the result of the guiding hand of a writer who so desperately wished for our survival…

⸢The genesis of all the world-lines, the original world-line.⸥

I raised my head back up, then stepped forward to lift ‘that’ Han Sooyoung into my arms. She felt so light. This small body carried the weight of every sin in the world.

The world written just for me.

An anguished cry came from the rear.

“Sooyoung-ssi, calm down!”

“You bastard! Let me go!”

It was a voice far more devastated than I have ever heard from her. Tears were pouring from her eyes as Jung Heewon and Lee Hyunsung held her by her arms. A dagger was gripped tightly onto one hand while [Black Flames] were bursting from the other.

“That bitch, why the hell would I write a story like this!?”

She continued to thrash about, and even the kids held onto her legs to keep her from taking another step forward to do something foolish. The entire nebula worked together to suppress her, their status raging forth as Han Sooyoung did everything she could to break free of the restraint.

“Something this fucked up—“ Han Sooyoung snarled. “If I had to write a story for this purpose, to write a novel with these… Shit developments…!!“

Han Sooyoung choked on her own tears as she continued to try to force her way past our companions.

“Han Sooyoung.”

It was Yoo Junghyuk who stepped in between them. The one who had lived this tragedy for thousands of lives.

“It has been difficult."

He reduced his tragedies to a mere few words.

“But it’s over now.”

⸢His forgiveness was offered in this manner. ⸥

“Shut up!!”

⸢It only served to break her.⸥

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!!”

Yoo Junghyuk opened his mouth as if to respond, then suddenly doubled over in a coughing fit.

Thick fog came in from somewhere, and I picked up on the ominous power of Chaos. Yoo Junghyuk’s expression as he held the blade became weird.

“Y-you bastard....”

As he staggered about, the pitch-black Fable leaked out from his mouth. That Fable gurgled out and travelled down his chin, hit the floor, and finally, formed the silhouette of a person.

The blade of the [Heaven Shaking Sword] gleamed between the jet-black coat; a man who only lived for this moment was standing there now.

⸢The Secretive Plotter.⸥

The being who had even forgotten about his real name after experiencing an enedless tragedy even past the last sentence of his story. The man who lived only for the purpose of revenge was here.

⸢No human can control every type of imagination.⸥

Just how many universes were born and broken in her mind? Just how many of her imagined tragedies were inherited by just one person?

⸢And that’s why the most ideal person to end this dream had already been determined.⸥

It was the world’s most fair revenge.

So why did I keep holding onto Han Sooyoung this tightly?

[[ It was you. ]]

The Secretive Plotter’s [Heaven Shaking Sword] continued to wander in the air. That sword was now pointed towards its creator.

[[ The being that dreamt and perpetuated every tragedy in all the worldlines. ]]

I only made it this far because of those tragedies she wrote.

It was the story that I loved more than anything. The story I was indebted to.

[[ Kim Dokja. You must end the Most Ancient Dream. ]]

Every letter here was chosen by her hands. By bearing all of these sins, she brought us to this moment.

It was thanks to Han Sooyoung that I managed to survive.

And now it was time to repay my debt.

“Did you forget?”

[‘Demon King’ transformation is activating!]

[‘Archangel’ transformation is activating!]

I smiled gently and with one hand raised my [Unbreakable Faith]. I pulled the sleeping Han Sooyoung closer in the other.

“I didn’t promise to kill people.”

In this place far beyond our full stop, our swords were drawn.

A new story had begun.

[lanawinterscigarettes]

Negotiations (Joe Goldberg x gn reader)

Summary: Joe puts you in the glass cage and makes you negotiate for your freedom

Warnings: typical creepy Joe behavior (implied stalking, obsessive behavior, kidnapping, etc.), the reader either doesn't understand the full gravity of their situation or just doesn't care

A/N: I realized I never officially wrote something for it so here y'all go (this was written super quickly so idk if it's any good or not)

"So I had to do it, you see. I had to get rid of them. I had to save you," Joe insisted frantically, sounding like he was trying to convince himself as much as he was you.

You'd woken up in the infamous glass cage underneath the bookstore he worked at, curiously looking around. The only thing you'd said so far was to ask where to you, to which he replied "somewhere safe". Talk about ominous.

"What if I need to go to the bathroom?" You spoke up suddenly, as you soon realized upon inspecting the inside of your new home that there wasn't a toilet. There was, however, a bucket.

"Well..." He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck as he avoided the question. It didn't take much for you to put two and two together.

You gave him a look that was a cross between disgust and disbelief. "I can't pee in a bucket, Joe."

"I'm sorry, but I can't just let you out." He felt bad, sure, but he had to do this. He had to make sure that you were safe, even if it meant making you a little mad at him.

Crossing your arms, you turned in the opposite direction, refusing to look at him. Clearly you weren't too fond of your new living arrangements and were choosing to pout.

"Oh, come on, it isn't that bad," he lied upfront as he watched you. It was that bad, actually. Using a bucket to go to the bathroom was pretty gross.

And now he was starting to feel bad for putting you in this kind of situation. Anger was one thing, that he could handle. He could brace himself against that, or he rationalize away your worries or fears, but you seemed less genuinely upset and more annoyed than anything else.

He let out a heavy sigh as he contemplated his options. You were ignoring him, and he just couldn't have that. "If I let you out, you have to promise not to run away from me or anything like that. Understood?"

As if on cue, you turned back to face him again, a look of hope in your eyes. "Really?"

Joe tried not to let out a laugh when he saw you get close to the glass and press your face against it. "Yeah, really. Just- you have to move in with me. I don't want you living alone anymore. And I have to know where you are at all times."

Sure, he knew he could just follow you like usual, but he wanted you to be able to trust him. "And there's certain people that I don't want you hanging around anymore. Deal?"

Oh, god, what was he saying? This was going to be too much to put on you all at once. He should've just started with one small thing and gone from there, he shouldn't have given you an entire list-

"Deal."

Your voice instantly cut through his thoughts. Part of him wanted to believe you, even if he was a little suspicious that you'd agreed so quickly. Then again, you seemed so sincere, trusting even, observing him the same way anyone who truly loved their partner would: like he was the only thing that mattered.

"Could you let me out now? I really need to go pee."

Rolling his eyes, he made his way over to the door of the cage and unlocked it, letting you out. "Remember what I told you, alright? I don't want to have to put you back in there," he tried to make himself sound stern, to show you that he wasn't playing around when he said that.

To his surprise, you responded by giving him a hug. "You're such a sweetheart, caring about me so much," you muttered affectionately.

He couldn't stop himself from melting into your touch. If this was an act, it was certainly working.

"I'll never, ever leave you."

God, you were going to be the death of him. "And I'll never let you go," he promised in turn.

He really meant it when he said that. He was never going to let you go. Not that you seemed to mind.

End notes: I don't know if this is any good or not honestly. I really wanted to write something for Joe but I was kind of at a loss for what exactly to write about so 🤷 send me some ideas though if y'all want

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🏷 taglist: @caplanreblogsfics

[storiesofmyhead]

A Missing Seraphim Angel

Summary: When Alastor's Wife is taken from him and turned into a Seraphim Angel. He is stunned to see that she is right back is his arms 10 years later.

Word Count: 1,775

Hope you like it! Please reblog it means a lot. Also thinking about making a part 2. Let me know if you would like one. :)

"Sera please." The younger girl begged, her eyes big while she pouted at the older sister.

"No, Opal." Sera scolded, shaking her head at the crazy idea. Her wings, pure and glistening with divine light, folded tightly against her back, a symbol of her unwavering resolve.

"Why not? I don't see what the big deal is. It's only a little visit." The desperation in Opal's voice was clear, her own wings twitching with frustration under her robe.

"I've already said no once, and I will not say it again. You were brought up here because God believed that you were sent down by accident, and now you are one of the most prestigious angels. If you go down there and are spotted and recognized, you will be killed on sight. Now do not ask again." Sera's voice softened at the end, a plea for understanding beneath her stern exterior.

Opal groaned an angered groan and stormed out of the room. "Fine, if you won't let me go down willingly, then I'll just find a way down myself." She huffed, slamming the door behind her.

Storming to her room, she closed the door aggressively before taking a deep breath. "If only she knew the reason, then maybe she'd let me go. Maybe I should ask again. But if I ask again, then she'll get even more mad, and I'd never have another chance." She rambled, pacing back and forth. "If I get banned from Heaven, so be it. I don't care anymore. I just want to see my husband again." Opal could feel the tears well up in her eyes as she thought about the moment she was ripped away from him.

The overlord and his wife walked side-by-side down the sidewalk, sinners of all kinds scattering the second the two came into view. The dark, oppressive atmosphere of Hell was a stark contrast to the warmth Opal remembered from Heaven. "Oh Al, could we please go see Rosie? I haven't seen her in forever." Opal pouted jokingly at her husband, whose smile grew softer as his eyes darted down to his wife's expression.

"Of course we can, doll. I'm sure Rosie has missed you as well." The static in his voice grew softer, a sign of his excitement to see his old friend and wife spend time with each other once more. His crimson eyes glowed with a rare gentleness as he looked at her.

As they headed towards Cannibal Town, the normal echo of screams grew in size and sound. Tugging on her husband's coat, she glanced up at him, her delicate features contorted with worry. "Do you hear that? Don't the screams sound louder than normal?"

"Don't worry, my dear. I'm sure it's just some idiotic sinners." He said, brushing off her worry, hoping his words would make her feel better. His tall, imposing figure cast a long shadow, but it was a shadow she felt safe within.

Sighing, she nodded. "I guess you're right." Her lips pulled into a smile as she looked up at him, laying her head on his shoulder as they continued their walk, the entrance to Cannibal Town in the distance.

Looking up, she let her eyes wander, full trust in her husband to lead her out of any danger. While her eyes wandered, they suddenly focused on a small hole that was now opening up in the sky. Pulling his coat, her face filled with worry, he glanced down at her, their movements stopping.

"What is wrong, my dear?" He asked, his smile dropping by the second as he listened to her breaths quicken. His hands grabbed her sides, rubbing up and down to comfort her.

"Look," she said, pointing up at the sky as exterminators flew down, their golden armor gleaming ominously in the dark sky.

The normal amount of static he emitted tripled in size. She watched as his shadows covered the two until there was nothing left to the outside. Whimpering, her arms wrapped around his waist, his around her head and waist as he cradled her head into his chest.

But before the two could be transported back to his broadcasting tower, a light struck through the shadow shield. Both of their heads shot to the light in worry and fear of what would happen.

"Ahh, Opal Altruist. I have been looking for you everywhere." A voice called from the other side of the shield.

The light now clearing out as Alastor's shadows were broken through and dissipated. The figure known as Adam stood before them, a cocky smirk on his face. His wings, large and pristine, signified his high rank among the exterminators. Alastor stood, pulling his wife behind him, readying himself to fight off the first man.

"What do you want, Adam?" Alastor snarled, his static so loud it was hard to hear anything. His red eyes burned with anger, his shadows writhing around them protectively.

"All I need is the girl and we'll all leave." Adam said, his arms folded across his chest, his tone condescending and authoritative.

"Why?" Alastor snarled once more, wanting to know the reason for the angel's appearance in Hell. It couldn't just be for his wife. Right?

Adam sighed dramatically before speaking again. "Opal has been called upon by God himself to become one of his prestigious seraphim angels. Do not ask me why he has chosen a disgusting sinner, because I do not know. But I am going to be taking her now, so."

Before the two knew it, Opal and Adam had disappeared along with all of the other angels. It was as if they had never been there. Alastor stood shocked and angry. Growling, his static grew to a volume of white noise. Sinners screamed in pain at the noise, as Alastor grew to a demonic form, his tentacles reaching out, throwing and ripping apart other sinners in his rage.

Creating her own small portal, Opal quietly stepped through and entered the world she once called home. Turning her head, she watched the portal close slowly until it became nothing. Finally letting her eyes wander to take in where she was, familiarity hit her as the setting she was in was one of bad memories.

"Al~" She sighed sadly, her head moving into the thoughts of where her husband could be in this moment. Would he be happy to see her? Of course he would be, she is his wife. Right? It had been ten years since the two had seen each other. Would he still be as in love with her as he was ten years ago?

The thoughts of Alastor had her worried and excited at the same time. Wandering around the streets, she made sure her wings were concealed in her coat, as anyone could notice as the look of seraphim wings were separate from any other.

Looking down the street, she noticed the sign that read 'Cannibal Town'. A smile grew quickly onto her face as her legs carried her towards the entrance.

Her head took in the town, her looking for the house Rosie resided in. Though once her eyes landed on a big-looking mansion, she knew that that had to have been where Rosie was.

Pushing through the door, her eyes landed on Rosie, who sat in the small circular open cubby between her large staircases. Running to the old woman, who still surprisingly hadn't noticed her entrance.

"Rosie!" Opal exclaimed, her voice filled with joy and relief.

Rosie, now noticing the woman she hadn't seen in a decade, gasped and stood quickly. "Opal?!" Her arms immediately wrapped around the younger woman's body, pulling her into a warm hug. "Where have you been? Alastor has been a mess without you, sweetheart." She said, before gasping once more. "Alastor. Oh. He will be overdelighted when hearing about your return."

Opal could feel the tears welling up in her eyes already at the thought of seeing her husband once again. "Where is he? Do you know?" She asked desperately, her voice trembling.

Hearing a shattering noise behind her, Opal's body snapped around. A sob wracked through her body, her hands flying to her mouth.

"Doll?" His rough, crackly voice echoed in her head. The small white teacup that was once in his hands now lay smashed into a thousand tiny pieces on the ground.

"Oh Al-" She sobbed, running up to him and jumping into his arms, which tightly wrapped around her waist.

Her head leaned back as she planted her lips on his quickly and aggressively, his rough lips matching hers with equal fervor. Pulling back, he placed small kisses all over her face, causing her to giggle through her tears.

"What happened? Where did you go? Where did that bastard take you?" He quickly asked, staring into her eyes so deeply that she was speechless.

"I'm a Seraphim Angel." She blurted, unknowing of what to say, her voice trembling with a mix of emotions.

"What?" His grin, which had almost always been on his face, dropped.

"God chose me as one of his Seraphim angels. I don't know why or how, but-" Her voice was cut off by Alastor's as he shook his head.

"My love, I don't know what to say. But what I do know is that you are not leaving me again." He stated, leaving no room for discussion.

Shaking her head, she agreed with him. "I'm never leaving you ever again."

While the two shared a special moment, Rosie stood behind them, a smile on her face as she watched her favorite beloved couple reunite.

"Rosie, my dear. I will be taking my leave now." Alastor's voice broke Rosie out of her trance as she nodded understandingly.

"Of course. You two have so much to catch up on. But do come back so we can talk." Rosie winked at the two, before watching them leave.

"Are you ready to go see your new home, my darling?" Alastor asked his wife as he looked down at her, love filling his eyes and his smile soft.

"Mhm." She hummed and nodded, her smile bright and big.

Shadows covered the happy reunited couple as they held each other close, her head laying on his chest while his hands lay on her hips.

Once the shadows uncovered the couple, Opal took in the setting. A large open red hotel called 'Hazbin Hotel' stood before them, its neon sign flickering ominously. The building was imposing, yet there was a sense of warmth and familiarity that made her feel at ease.

"Welcome to your new home, my dear." Alastor said softly, his voice filled with pride and love.

[scuttlingcrab]

A Hellish Dealer

Inspired by the Merchant Raphael that could've been, but now only exists in our imaginations. RIP. Gone but not forgotten. Thank you @firlionemoontav for the prompt idea and letting me know that we were robbed of Merchant Raphael!

Summary: Raphael isn't only a saviour, but a proficient salesman. After coming to Tav’s rescue, again, he offers the little mouse an item, straight from his Devilish line of goods, that he hopes will aid her in the fights ahead.

Link to my other work in the Devil's Archive.

(Image via devils-little-mouse)

Tav gasped for air, clutching at her chest. Her temples pulsed, her skull vibrating along with each thumping heartbeat. Her throat burned as she inhaled, like she had swallowed a bucket full of coal. It made her want to vomit, a cold sweat dripping from her forehead. Tav shivered, struggling to sit up. She eventually found the strength to hug her knees in a sad attempt to warm herself.

Without warning, memories flashed before her eyes. Just moments ago, she had been falling, her body plunging into something sharp. Pain jetted through her chest, a searing sensation stemming from the pits of her soul. Her companions' screams echoed in the recesses of her mind, their pleas for help, cries of agony had blended into one… until there was only quiet, her entire world consumed by nothing but shadows. 

Tav blinked, her eyes caked with dirt. She rubbed away the grime, her mind scrambling, attempting to put the millions of shattered pieces of this reality back together. She loosened the laces of her tunic, hoping that would give her some more room to breathe. Her hands stopped abruptly, running over a massive tear in the middle of her chest. She looked down, eyes widening at the discovery that her entire tunic was covered in dried blood. She instantly reached for her back, feeling an identical rip between her shoulder blades.

Tav’s chest tightened, spots of black dotting across her vision. 

Breathe, Tav. Breathe. 

She felt the floor with her fingertips. Stones. It was damp, slippery. 

She’s still here. Breathe. That’s it. 

She turned her head, attempting to look around, to search for her companions… but her vision was hazy, the specks of black refusing to leave her alone. 

Tav’s nose itched and she suppressed a cough, tears forming from the corner of her eyes as the scent of sulphur suddenly assaulted her senses.  

A large black shadow came into view, looming above her ominously. She blinked again and the area around her slowly came into focus, the shapeless being forming a clearer silhouette… and then a face. Their features morphed into something familiar. Big dark eyes stared down at her, the irises briefly flickering orange, like tiny flames. They were tall, their hair short and brown… 

Wait a damned second. 

“Raphael?” Tav whispered, confusion contorting her face.

Raphael smiled wide, bearing his teeth. He wore the same shit eating grin from when they first met on that bridge, when this entire fiasco began.

“It seems you’re not very perceptive after all, despite my countless warnings.” 

“Your… W-what?” Tav coughed, blood splattering on her palms. She immediately wiped it away on her trousers, growing more disgusted with herself. 

“The infernal markings, scattered throughout this Mausoleum. So simple I had assumed even a half-wit such as yourself could’ve spotted them.” 

Tav swallowed, another lump forming in her throat. Now that Raphael mentioned it, there were a bunch of weird symbols littered throughout the doorways of that stupid fucking Mausoleum, and a few of those scribbles suspiciously resembled arrows. She had shrugged them off, thinking it was some kind of joke or just someone’s sad attempt at artwork. Not actual warning signs from the Devil himself… pointing in the right bloody direction this entire time. They had been lost for hours, going back and forth one twisted hallway after another.

Well, Karlach was right… and Tav was a fucking idiot. 

Tav stood abruptly, hoping to cover up her festering embarrassment. As soon as she rose, the room rotated, faster and faster like she was caught in the middle of a windstorm. The floor came up to meet her in a blur and she shut her eyes, bracing herself for another explosive impact. She instead felt a sharp tug on her arm as her body was yanked to one side, promptly followed by a pleasant embrace. Tav leaned into the hold, enjoying the stillness and melting against the comforting heat radiating from… 

She opened her eyes, only to find herself snuggled in Raphael’s arms, her head resting against his chest. She held her breath as she glanced up at him. He winked in response and Tav blushed, her cheeks catching fire almost immediately. That damned face, that damned Devil… she never thought his smile could get any more condescending.

Tav ripped herself away from Raphael, wobbling as she tried to keep herself upright without his support, but it only got worse. 

“Oh Gods, I’m going to be sic–” 

The sound of a snap ricocheted throughout the chamber walls, settling her stomach and the spinning room simultaneously. 

“The little mouse, ever so hasty to escape the hands that saved it. You nearly soiled my favourite pair of boots. I will have you know, these are quite expensive.”

Tav held her hands out wide to keep her balance, shaking away any lingering bouts of nausea. 

“My f-friends… what have you don…”

“Oh, they aren’t going anywhere. Besides, I’d like a few more minutes alone with you.” Raphael paused, his eyes travelling up Tav’s body as if he was about to devour her for supper. “And please wipe that bewildered look off your face. Yes, that boney little cretin that lingers at your camp isn’t the only one who can bring mortals back from the dead. Now sit still, else you’ll ruin my handiwork.” 

There was another snap and Tav was transported away from the Mausoleum in a rush of sparks that tickled her skin. She materialised on a spacious balcony, her body gently fitting into a plush leather chair. The material stuck to her exposed skin like glue as she fidgeted. Tav inhaled sharply at the view, blood-red skies and an otherwise barren wasteland overtaking her vision. The air was thicker here, weighing on her shoulders like a heavy piece of armour.

“You’ve got to be kidding me…” Tav whispered, just as a dark Hellish cloud appeared on the horizon, growing more ferocious as it crept closer. 

Raphael sat in front of her, legs crossed and cradling a silver goblet. His eyes glimmered against the fiery skies of Avernus as he continued to gaze at her. Out of fondness or hunger? Tav had no fucking clue anymore.

A small table was placed between them, lined with a tray of refreshments.

“Let’s cut to the chase, shall we? I’d like to offer you some commodities for the fight ahead.”

“Hold on. Since when are you , the almighty Raphael, scary Devil-man who threatens foolish mortals, a vendor?” Tav leaned back, laughing hysterically. She watched as Raphael’s smile faded, a menacing scowl replacing any hint of amusement that had previously occupied his face. “Gods, I must’ve really, I mean really, hit my head back there.”

Raphael’s neck twitched and his eyes narrowed, but he remained calm, taking a sip from the goblet. 

“There is a whole world of services you’ve yet to discover that only I can provide. I just so happen to have an entire line of goods that are simply too Devilish to keep all to myself.”

“Do you think I have any bloody gold left? I don’t want anything from you. I just want to be done with this never-ending bullshit! As if this damned tadpole wasn’t enough, you have to be creeping and crawling around every corner! I’ve ju–”

Raphael leapt towards Tav, erupting into his cambion form. Tav cried out in shock as the table burst into flames, the bottles of wine and various jars of food exploding. She winced, covering her face to protect herself from the flying shards of glass. Raphael crushed the goblet in his hand like it was nothing but cheap, flimsy material. Wine oozed from his fist like blood, the liquid sizzling as it touched his skin.

He leaned closer to Tav, pointing a claw at her face. 

“I would hold that wretched, ungrateful tongue if I were you. If it wasn’t for me, you’d be nothing but a sack of flesh rotting on the shores of the Chionthar.” 

“Raphael, I’m sorry.” Tav muttered, her words barely audible against the thunder from the approaching storm. 

“I cannot hear your pitiful squeaks, little mouse.”

“I’m sorry.” Tav said again, her voice shaking. “I-I w…” 

She hid her face in her hands before Raphael could see her weep. She felt humiliated. Actually worse, like she was a spoiled child having a temper tantrum. Ungrateful. 

Tav choked on her tears, her body trembling against each emotional wave that crashed against her, destroying what was left of her self-control. The sadness was suffocating, her exhaustion crippling. She was just so tired. Of everything. Everyone. Fed up with being bent and moulded like she was merely a piece of metal in a forge. It wasn’t only Raphael. No . But her companions, pulling her in twelve different directions all at once, each with their own personal vendettas. And that tadpole, swimming around her brain, digging deeper and deeper into her subconscious. The sleepless nights, tossing and turning from the voices in her head. 

It was too much. 

“Why did you bring me back?” Tav muttered eventually. 

There was a brief pause as thunder cracked through the air, a hot gust of wind blowing across her hands.

“I’m not done with you yet.” Raphael replied, softly. 

“I hope you make it quick then. So the next time I fall you can just leave me to die in peace.”

“Yes…” Raphael began, delicately peeling Tav’s fingers away from her face, lowering her shield. He placed his own hand on her cheek, the warmth from his palm drying the tears that fell. He held his hand there for what felt like an eternity, and in truth, Tav didn’t want him to let go. She tried to look away, but she was drawn into his gaze; those dark, deceitful eyes, slowly losing herself the more she stared into that welcoming abyss. 

“I think I’m satisfied.” Raphael continued, releasing Tav from his hold. “Consider that my first and only warning. Next time I won’t be so… generous.”

Raphael returned to his seat and Tav let out a sigh, pressing her fingers to her cheek where the remains of his touch still lingered. 

He clapped his hands twice and a massive wooden wardrobe appeared behind him. He twirled his wrist, opening the double doors and showcasing an endless expanse of weapons, armour, and potions. He swiped his hand and the thousands of artefacts flew past him at a rapid speed. He hummed thoughtfully until he raised an index finger and stopped the movement, staring at a large metallic staff in front of him. It floated patiently, the metal was smooth and twisted, almost like silver vines.

“That’ll do nicely…”

Raphael moved his index finger and the staff flew out of the wardrobe, hovering before Tav.

“Feast your eyes on this . It can detect creatures who might not want to be found, simply activate the barrier with an intermediate incantation and nothing can hide within its boundaries. I think it suits your strengths just enough to get this next job done.” 

The staff bounced in the air as it twirled, beckoning Tav to touch it. She reached towards the staff, but Raphael yanked it away with the flick of his wrist. 

“Tut, tut. I don’t just hand things out for free, not even to my most treasured customers. I can give you a discount, however.”

Tav opened her mouth in protest but Raphael raised his hand dramatically to silence her. 

“Those soul coins, I can hear them screaming from your person. A far more satisfactory payment for my services. I don’t stoop so low as to accept gold .” Raphael practically shuddered as the words left his lips.

Tav hesitated, her hand resting above her trousers.

“Come now, Karlach doesn’t need them. If you give her any more, she’ll likely explode before you reach Baldur’s Gate.”

“How did you… riiight .” Tav muttered, nodding to herself. “You’ve got eyes and ears everywhere, yes, yes, I know.”

“Ah, has that tadpole riddled brain finally caught up?”

“Fine.”

Tav unclipped a leather pouch from her belt, digging her fingers inside it. She removed a soul coin and held it up to Raphael. 

“And for an additional soul coin I can throw in a few revivify scrolls, 4 for the price of 1. Seeing as you could barely walk the halls of the Mausoleum without falling into a trap meant for the undead. I simply don’t have enough time on my agenda to wait for you buffoons to drop like flies again. Which will undoubtedly happen, I can assure you. I might even bet you on it.”

Tav bit the side of her mouth, trying to keep herself from saying anything stupid to rile his temper a second time. She shook her head as she pulled another soul coin from the pouch. She placed both coins in her palm, extending it towards Raphael. He giddily accepted, snatching the Hellish currency in one showy movement. 

“Ta.”

Raphael inspected each soul coin carefully, rubbing his thumb over the jagged designs. He brought them to his ear, closing his eyes as he listened to music that Tav could not hear. He sighed with pleasure, nodding along to a silent melody. 

“Oh, how delicious. There is nothing that brings me more delight than the screams of doomed mortals. One of life’s simple pleasures.”

Raphael bounced the soul coins between his fingers, like he was trying to impress Tav with an amateur magic trick, until they vanished in a puff of smoke. The goods Tav purchased flew into her hands, nearly causing her to topple over in the chair.

“Well then, thank you for your business. I’ll be sure to keep my fingers crossed you can survive the next few hours. You know what’s at stake. Until we meet again.”

Before Tav could even utter her thanks, Raphael stood from his chair, gifting her with one of his flourishing bows. Her body was enveloped in another burst of sparks and just like that, she was swiftly returned to the Mausoleum. She unexpectedly found herself yearning for the stifling air of Avernus, her thoughts rushing back to Raphael. 

Tav stood in the same chamber, but she was no longer alone. Her companions were lying at her feet, just like the Devil had promised, groaning as they regained consciousness.  

“Gods, my head. That nearly ended us all…” Astarion whispered, jumping to his feet. 

“Yeah, what a fucking close call. Good job getting us out of that one, Tav,” Karlach added. She remained on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. 

“It would have been an undignified death.” Minthara said, rising to her knees as she released a healing spell. “And worst of all, my vengeance would have remained unquenched.”

Karlach laughed, using her elbows to lift herself up. 

“We’ll get that bastard Thorm soon enough, Minthara.”

Minthara huffed and the companions continued the idle chatter, their voices slowly fading from Tav’s focus.

Tav looked down at the metal staff in her hands, her grip tightening around it.

Right, she better not fuck this up. For all of their sakes.