#to those who reached out & those who have waited it out

[naburi]

LET’S GET A ROOM

KIM MINJI X READER

FT. BLACKPINK LISA, YUNJIN, GISELLE

TAGS: THREESOME, SUBMISSIVE

2.1K WORDS

What happens when two seniors found an innocent freshman in the Halloween party? What happens when the freshman is not so innocent after all? You and your friend approach the young girl who is searching for her friends. Every shot that you gave her, she drinks. You and your friend's hands are sneaking around her waist and her ass but she didn’t mind it. You have all night to see how wild this can go.

A punk princess costume is all Minji found in a nearby store as she is last minute shopping to buy a costume. At first, she didn’t want to attend this year's Halloween party as she didn’t know anyone beside her classmates. But her classmates manage to convince her by saying they will leave the party early. Her pretty face makes the costume work. Her soft face contrasts perfectly to the ragged look of her attire. Entering a fraternity’s house as this is where the Halloween party is held. Her classmates disappeared from their group one at a time as they flirted with some boys in the party. Minji found herself being alone at a party she didn’t even want to attend.

“The fuck?” A sophomore wearing a Lakers jersey blurted out. Minji accidentally bumps into the brunette as she’s searching for her friend. The girl didn’t know what to say as she is intimidated by the girl who is with her friends in the same Lakers jersey. “Watch where you��re going! Gosh,” the brunette walked away calming herself.

Minji's heart beats fast as she hurriedly looks for her friends. She wants to go back to their dorm now but one of the girls has the keys. She just can’t walk home alone either as she deems it too dangerous. She doesn’t show it in her face but the girl is now panicking. She wants some company as she’s afraid to get in the same situation as what happened earlier with the brunette.

An innocent face in the middle of the crowd caught your attention. You notice that she is all by herself and is looking for someone. You follow her with your eyes for a few minutes before sharing glances with your friend. The two of you smile as you have the same idea. The both of you approach Minji and offer her a drink.

Minji looks at the drink in your hand. Thinking about what she should do. She notices that you and your friend are waiting for her response. She seems frozen as she can’t decide on what to do. She wants to have some company but she doesn't think that you will be a good companion for tonight. The girl might look innocent but it doesn’t mean she doesn’t touched herself every night while thinking of getting fucked. Innocent girls are wildest, and Minji is the same case. She fingers herself each night with erotic thoughts on how men use her body. She finger fuck herself in hope of satisfying her slit as it’s been a while since she felt a cock plunging in and out of her. Your friend's hand stays on her butt while yours are at her exposed waist. Your friend is gently squeezing her ass, waiting for the girl's reaction. Your fingertips glide on the hem of her top. Insinuating that your fingers want to reach something inside those top.

The punk princess notices these advancements as her slit gets wet. The thought of men lusting over her innocent body made her mind go feral. Her fantasies are coming into life. She didn’t expect to have this experience tonight but she doesn’t want the opportunity to go to waste. She sticks out her butt more, insinuating to your friend that he can freely grab her ass. While she guides your hand inside her top, being able to reach her bra. The three of you didn’t mind if someone saw what you all were doing as the crowd were too busy partying.

The crowd roars once again as the girl in the spiderman costume has been carried to the upper rooms following them are the biggest guy in the campus that’s carrying a brunette in a lakers jersey. Minji saw them, the thought of those girls getting fuck tonight made the girl jealous. “Let’s get a room,” the girl whispers to you. Her words rang into your ear loud and clear against the noise of the party. You were shocked by the girl’s boldness. Her face might be innocent but she’s just like any other girl who has urges that need to be met too.

Your friend goes upstairs as you whisper to him what Minji told you. Not even a minute has passed, your friend calls your attention to go upstairs as he found a room. You take Minji’s hand as you walk upstairs. The girl’s heart starts pounding, her urges are too loud for her to back out but she is still inexperienced. She only did it a few times back with her ex boyfriend. This will be her first time doing it with a stranger let alone two strangers at the same time. Her mind thought this is a bad idea but her body says otherwise.

The room is filled with sexual tension as the three of you are now sitting on the edge of the bed. Minji is between the two of you, your hand is caressing her thighs, waiting for her signal. She looks at your friend before panning her eyes on you, giving you a look as permission. You hold her face for a kiss while your friend zipps down her top to expose her bra. Your friend gropes her one boob as the other hand is unlocking the bra. Minji moans in between your kisses as your friend is sucking her boob while pinching the nipple of the other.

You pull her deeper in the kiss as your tongue enters her mouth. The inexperience of the girl is showing as she can’t time the rhythm of your tongue. You thought that she may have previous experience but not enough to match your sexpertised. You tap your friend to switch positions with him. He’s now kissing the girl while you focus on removing her skirt. Minji adjusted herself as you pulled her skirt out of her body. Your friend lays her body down as they continue kissing, your fingers find the girl's wet panties as she’s clearly getting aroused.

You pulled her panties down, throwing it somewhere. Minji felt her slit exposed as she’s now expecting a sensation to her slit. You put the tip of your two fingers on her wet slit before slowly sticking it inside her. Her slit feels soft as you enter her inside while her wetness lubricates your fingers. Minji moans as she feels your fingers. The woman keeps moaning while you move your fingers inside her. She knows that her own fingers and her dildos cannot be compared in getting finger fucked by a man. Your friend moves back his focus on her tits, flicking them by his tongue. Minji moans loudly, expressing her ecstasy of finally getting touched by a man for a long time. Encouraged by her heavenly moans, you plunge her slit faster than she could take. The girls arched her back as she released her first orgasm of the night.

The girl felt embarrassed about how fast she came. She lay down for a minute catching her breath as she heard the two men unzipped their pants. You and your friends are now naked on the waist down. Minji felt the bed move as you positioned yourself between her legs while your friend had his cock near her face. The girl notices what you are all trying to do. She positions herself on all fours, her firm ass is now exposed in front of you while her face is now an inch closer on the hard cock of your friend. Minji catches the cock on her mouth, sucking the head of it. This signals you to start at her other end. You hold the girl’s waist with your one hand while your other hand is holding your cock positioning it near her slit.

The punk princess has been pushed upward as you thrust inside her for the first time. Minji moans while a cock is still in her mouth. Your warm cock is stretching her inside. The girl is now more encouraged to suck your friend’s cock, she bobs her head trying to take his cock more deeper in her mouth. You pull your cock a little slower, feeling every part of her soft inside. You thrust on her again this time more deeper than the first. Minji muffled moans turn you and your friend even more. You slap her ass cheeks multiple times leaving a red mark of your hand before holding her by the hips. Your friend also pulls her cock out of her mouth, glazing his lubricated cock on her innocent face, smearing her makeup. The two of you simultaneously put your cocks inside her wholes, fucking the girl in unison.

Her firm ass moves every time you thrust into her, her eyes get teary as your friend's cock reaches her throat. The girl is getting fuck like a slut just like how she fantasizes it. Minji’s mind is blank with her only thought of how good of a slut she is. The girl is tired of getting treated like a child where everyone is so careful around her. She wants to submit on a man that will treat her like a woman and for tonight, the girl feels like an submissive woman, getting fucked for the enjoyment of men. She let her body get used as this also satisfies her. Minji didn’t care how tears are flowing for her eyes as they get more swollen every time her throat is getting stretched. Her slit is now getting ransacked by a real cock compared to the cold silicon dildo on her collection.

Your friend hold her hair while she fucked her mouth faster. Your friend is near his orgasm and wants to unload it on the girl's throat. Minji felt the cock on her mouth twitching, she looked at him eye to eye. Trying to signal him that he can cum in her throat. Your friend’s groan as he finally shoots loads on cum on her. Minji’s cheeks swell trying to contain the amount of cum before coughing some of it. She hasn't gotten used to the taste of cum but she tried her best to swallow as much as she can to show she’s the best slut. The sight of her getting a mouthful of cum turns you on more. Still composing herself of what just happened, Minji is now moaning loudly as rampage her slit with the thought of cumming inside her. The girl is now holding on the sheets as she puts her head down on the bed, feeling weak by the sensation of your hard fucking. You groan loud, matching her loud moans as you finally cum inside her.

Minji lays flat on the bed, cum licking out of her slit and on her mouth. She looks like a complete mess. The two men lay down on each side of her, trying to catch your breath as well. The sound of the party outside enters your room while the three of you lay silent on the bed. You noticed how the crowds roared. Lisa, the most popular senior on campus, finally arrives at the party. She wears full body lingerie. leaving nothing to the imagination. She explains to everyone that she dressed like a Victoria secret model. A wave of flashlights filled the party as everyone was trying to take a picture of the senior.

You felt Minji sit up. You and your friend are looking at her as she reaches on both of your semi hard cock, she strokes the two cocks wanting for another round.

[connection-terminated-blog]

Connection terminated. I'm sorry to interrupt you, Elizabeth, if you still even remember that name, But I'm afraid you've been misinformed. You are not here to receive a gift, nor have you been called here by the individual you assume, although, you have indeed been called. You have all been called here, into a labyrinth of sounds and smells, misdirection and misfortune. A labyrinth with no exit, a maze with no prize. You don't even realize that you are trapped. Your lust for blood has driven you in endless circles, chasing the cries of children in some unseen chamber, always seeming so near, yet somehow out of reach, but you will never find them. None of you will. This is where your story ends. And to you, my brave volunteer, who somehow found this job listing not intended for you, although there was a way out planned for you, I have a feeling that's not what you want. I have a feeling that you are right where you want to be. I am remaining as well. I am nearby. This place will not be remembered, and the memory of everything that started this can finally begin to fade away. As the agony of every tragedy should. And to you monsters trapped in the corridors, be still and give up your spirits. They don't belong to you. For most of you, I believe there is peace and perhaps more waiting for you after the smoke clears. Although, for one of you, the darkest pit of Hell has opened to swallow you whole, so don't keep the devil waiting, old friend. My daughter, if you can hear me, I knew you would return as well. It's in your nature to protect the innocent. I'm sorry that on that day, the day you were shut out and left to die, no one was there to lift you up into their arms the way you lifted others into yours, and then, what became of you. I should have known you wouldn't be content to disappear, not my daughter. I couldn't save you then, so let me save you now. It's time to rest - for you, and for those you have carried in your arms. This ends for all of us. End communication.

[tinythebunni]

perv!stebro!Rafe Cameron <3

you had to know what you were doing. there was no way you were this fucking dense that you couldn’t see what you were doing to Rafe. walking around in those tiny fucking skirts and thinner than a piece of paper crop tops and baby tees. and you never wore a bra. Rafe was 90% sure you were sent up here by the devil herself to punish him for something. but it really was just the fact his dad happened to wanna fuck your mom more than just as a one night stand.

you always seemed to be tanning outside right when he was about to leave for the country club. as if you were trying to tempt him into staying and fucking you into his mattress and bruising your throat. you wore low cut tops almost everyday and it made him fantasize about leaving hickies there. how you’d whimper and lift your hips to try and get some kind of friction. how you’d try and make him touch you but he wanted to spend his time making you wait. making you feel as insufferable as you acted.

the first thing that made him lose his cool was when you came downstairs while Topper and Kelce were in the living room. now sure Rafe was still getting used to you being in the house with him since the wedding. but you had come downstairs in the tinies bikini top known to man. with a barely there skirt that didn’t even cover the swell of your ass. he was sure his eyes were bugging out of his head.

“nah. who the fuck do you think is letting you out the house like that?” you tried changing his mind, jus bc you really wanted to go to the pier and shop! but he wouldn’t budge.

“you look like a whore, go change. ‘not dealing with bullshit while i’m sober.” you cried all the way up to your bedroom and slammed your door. while Rafe only sat back down in his chair, manspreading and rubbing his jaw.

“jeez man you were kind of harsh” Kelce tried to defend you but he didn’t get far.

“nah y’don’t know the shit i gotta deal with here. fucking teasing me all the time.”

the second time he almost lost his cool was when you decided you were going to go to one of Barry’s parties, which Rafe was not at all gonna let fucking happen.

Barry always threw crazy ragers that basically turned into fucking or orgies all night. you’d never been to one of his parties but Rafe knew some bitch ass little boy probably invited you, trying to get into your panties.

once again you tried your hardest to get him to let you go but he didn’t let up. “not letting you go to some party just so you can get roofied and traumatized for the rest of your life. ‘r too sweet for all of that and i don’t feel like having to kill anyone today.”

you stomped your foot and pouted up at him. “this is so not fair! you’re not even my daddy!”

hearing that name come out of your mouth had Rafe groaning and looking up at the ceiling for some kind of strength to grasp onto, so he didn’t choke you or fuck you against this door. he gave you one last look and reached behind you to lock the door. he could hear your breath hitch as his head was right by yours, locking his eyes onto yours as you heard the click of the lock.

“stay in the house. ‘m not fucking with you bambi.” he chastised, walking back to the couch without even glancing your way. you looked at him a little longer, watch as he palmed himself through his jeans and slid back in the cushions. you let out a sad sound and slouched back upstairs. crying all your pretty heart out into your heart shaped pillow.

the last time, Rafe couldn’t take it anymore. you finally started to notice his attraction to you. and boy were you happy. you’d been wanting to fuck him for months now! fingering yourself and rubbing your clit raw to the sound of his voice and the feeling of his hands on you. you were basically in heaven!

Rafe didn’t know what changed but all of a sudden your teasing got more evident. you’d drop the remote and bend over to pick it up, giving him a view of the plump lips you had hidden behind cotton underwear. sometimes you’d leave the bathroom door open so he could see you shower behind the steamy glass.

in the present day you asked him to bake cupcakes with you. something innocent and sweet, what could it hurt? but when you asked him to try it, that’s when it all went downhill. Rafe dipped his finger in the batter and brought it to his lips, sucking the flavor off and deciding if it was done.

“taste perfect bunny, now you try it.” and you did. you looked up at him, taking two steps forward, and grabbed his right wrist. He looked at you with a confused glint in his eyes, as you dipped his finger in the batter and wrapped your lips around it. tenderly kitten licking the tip of it and suckling as you let it pop from between your lips.

“sweet and creamy, just perfect!” you smiled, like a cheshire cat. he only stared at you, pupils blown and cheeks flushed. you began to get a little bit nervous. you wanted to turn around and rgo to your room to sleep for all eternity!

as you frowned and turned to walk away, he grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you to him, and as you skidded to a stop he wrapped his hands around your waist and flipped you over his shoulder. he walked away from the oven preheating oven, turning it off of course, and up to his room.

“Rafe what are you doing! come on put me down!” you yelled at him. he only slapped your ass, effectively shutting you up. you felt shame, arousal, and nervousness creep into your gut as you could only watch his backside walk up the stairs and away from the kitchen.

you saw him walk into a room and when he turned around to lock the door, you saw he was in his room. you heard the lock click and felt him start to walk towards the bed, finally putting you down.

“do you know how much self control i’ve wasted trying not to fuck you against every surface of the house, just for you to kiss me in the goddamn kitchen?” he asked pacing with an angry look on his face. you shook your head with your lips parted slightly and eyes glossy. you felt like a bunny in front of an angry wolf. you couldn’t tell if it was sexy, scary, or both.

“i’ve tried so fucking long to convince myself that maybe, just maybe, you didn’t know how much of a fucking nuisance you were. how everytime you walked out the house in those tiny outfits, i’d go up to my room and jerk off to the thought of ripping them off of you.”

you were sure you looked stupid as fuck right now, only glancing up at him between your lashes and biting your lip. “say something bunny. speak up.”

“m sorry.” you whispered, choked up a little. he stopped pacing suddenly and turned to you. kneeling in front of you he brushed the single tear that fell from your eye off your cheek.

“oh baby, i’m not really mad at you. i’m sexually frustrated from the teasing you’ve been doing but i could never be mad at you sweet girl.”

he kissed both your cheeks and held your face in his hands. “lighten up baby. can’t give you what we both want if your sad.” he whispered, making you look up at him with only need in your eyes.

“what we both want?” you asked, albeit dumbly. “don’t play. i know you want me to fuck you. i can hear your moaning through the fucking walls bunny.” he began to mock your moans and whimpers as your whole face turned red and your chest flared with embarrassment. you finally stood up on your tip toes and kissed him. letting your lips collide in a feverish dance.

he kissed you at first, tenderly, tentative even. as if he was scared to break you. but the slight noises you’d let out as he applied pressure slightly made his thoughts go into a frenzy. he couldn’t keep up with his mind. his hands going from your waist, your ass, your neck, your back, and back to your waist.

he walked you backwards until you fell onto the bed where he crawled over you. “is this okay baby?” he asked as he kissed down your tummy between each word. you nodded with slight anxiety from what comes next.

as he slid your skirt up you yelled out a “wait!” he immediately pulled back as if he was burned.

“did i do something?” he asked, slight worry in his eyes.

“no no, not at all!” you replied, relief flooding through his veins. “i just, i haven’t shaved.”

he stared at you like you were dumb. “i don’t give a fuck. baby i’m a grown man, ion care about a little bit of hair.”

he kissed your clit through your panties after dat sentence and slowly pulled the down to your ankles. he tugged them off and wrapped them around your wrist to keep you still.

pulling a leg over each shoulder he licked one long stripe up your slit, kitten licking to wear he saw fit. this was what he was waiting for. drowning between your thighs. he could feel your arousal gushing out of you and mixing with the saliva on his tongue.

he laps at your cunt as if it’s his last meal, savoring everything he can. he’s mumbling gibberish, pussy drunk almost. babbling about how he needs this, how he wants to become full off of your juices and nothing else. he pushes his tongue inside of you and flicks at your g spot with his tongue. it’s a stretch but it’s worth the reaction it pulls out of you.

your back arches and your hands pull at the sheets next to you, looking for something to ground you. Rafe pulls a hand to your hip to hold you down, his dominant one going towards his pants. you can barely register the clink of his belt.

He pulls himself out of his confines and rubs his tip with b his thumb, spreading his precum around as lube. he tugs his cock in tandem with his long and steady licks of your cunt. he cums right before when you do. the groaning and moaning of his orgasm rushing through him vibrates on your cunt, making you hit your peak with a flame alight inside your whole body.

your orgasm rips through you and it’s blinding almost. you come to after he kisses your neck and lets his half hard cock sit on your tummy as he rubs your head trying to get you to come back to him.

“come on sweet girl, don’t tell me you’re sleep.” you drearily respond, barely there. he smiles starting a bath for you, grabbing a snack, and getting ready to take care of his best girl. only you.

[marzipanandminutiae]

I hate how doing any kind of yarn craft basically means you can only produce plastic clothes or it's going to be 300$ in yarn minimum. Every yarn has some acrylic and the natural stuff is so wildly expensive. I would love to use 100% natural fibers but the options are limited

God, yeah. The price of natural-fiber materials is insane.

My average budget for like a full silk gown, trim and notions included, is around $200- and that's ONLY because I live near a discount fabric store that gets bolt-ends from big fashion houses and sells silk for like $10/yard. Wool is insane, for some reason- that place only has coating (heavyweight) and suiting (lighter but feels like plastic even though it's not), so making a dress or anything not outerwear from wool involves shopping online and some painful spending.

I just bought 6 yards of wool to make my Dream Dressing-Gown. It was $210 for JUST the wool- I still have to get lining fabric, possibly an embroidery machine pattern, embroidery thread (because my friend who's generously letting me use her machine only has polyester and rayon). Part of that was shipping from freaking Poland because finding a website that has non-stretch, dark green wool at any weight below "snow gear" in the States is nigh impossible.

(Or that actually discloses the weight in a meaningful way; that's another problem I've encountered. "Brushed wool!" Great, but how heavy is it? "It's wool!" Not helpful. It's like they can't fathom wanting to use wool for anything besides heavy outerwear. Which they probably can't, because that's all we're accustomed to seeing it as nowadays.)

Like I'm tempted to blame militant v*gans for the inaccessibility of silk and wool, but honestly, capitalism was probably just waiting for the excuse to turn all our clothes to crap. I doubt there's been enough outcry about them to push those fabrics out of reach, the way there has been for fur and leather (to clarify: pro-treating animals humanely, anti-plastic clothing, not opposed to the use of aforesaid materials if those animals are properly cared-for and humanely killed).

At least you can still find cotton and some linen things in stores- for now. They're still more expensive, though, and limited in what weaves are often seen. Cotton velvet, for example? Forget it.

It's so disturbing and frustrating.

[shanastoryteller]

Sam seems convinced this is going to work, but Dean’s pretty sure it’s just a load of crap. Bobby’s even more convinced that it’s a whole lot of nothing, although he had admitted that he couldn’t read every symbol that Sam had added to this mess up devil’s trap. That didn’t mean it would work. It just meant that Sam had thrown everything he could think into it.

The real reason that Dean is going along with this, and probably Bobby is too, is because it means that Sam wouldn’t be alone after Dean is dragged to hell. Although standing in the middle of Bobby’s junkyard in a mess of spray paint isn’t exactly how he’d wanted to spend the last hour of his life.

“You really think Lilith is going to show?” he asks. He doesn’t know why she would. She just has to send the hellhounds, who’s howls and yips Dean has been hearing for days. And those things have never been stopped by any sort of devil’s trap.

“Yes,” Sam says, tense, not looking at him.

That’s another thing. For weeks Sam has barely looked at him, barely talked to him. Which sucks, because he’d really wanted to spend the last weeks of his life just looking and talking to and spending time with his brother, but Sam hadn’t been interested in that. At all.

He shares a look with Bobby, who just shrugs, hands tight on his shotgun.

Then the hellhounds come, just like he knew they would, no Lilith in sight. “Sammy,” he says, reaching out for his brother. Not because he thinks he can do anything, but because he wants to touch Sam one last time, one last memory to sustain him through hell.

Sam snaps out his hand and the hellhounds go skittering back, letting out pained yowls.

Dean stares, not understanding. “What did you – wait. You can see them?”

Only he should be able to see them. He’s the one that made the deal.

Sam still won’t look at him, damnit, even as Dean fists his hand in the back of his shirt. Sam's voice is low and pained when he says, “I’m sorry.”

Fear clenches in his gut. But before he do anything, there are demons surrounding the devil’s trap, appearing one by one in Bobby’s junkyard. They’d needed to take down his protections so Lilith could get in, but they hadn’t expected this. Of course she brought a freaking audience.

“Which one of you is Lilith?” he barks out, dragging Sam behind him. He refuses to let the last thing he sees be his brother hurt, or worse.

Dozens of demons stand there, human vessels with pitch black eyes. The hellhounds whimper and slink around them, but don’t seem interested in getting any closer. Dean can’t blame them.

Sam pries his hand off of him, stepping away before Dean can grab onto him again. He leaves the safety of the devil’s trap, which is fucking stupid. Dean’s lunging forward to stop him, but then there’s Bobby’s arm holding him back, face pale with a horror Dean doesn’t understand. He hadn’t looked like that even at Cold Oak, when they’d seen the gates open to hell.

The demons bow.

He blinks, not understanding what he’s seeing.

Sam is standing there in front of them, no protections, and they’re all bowing to him.

Except one.

Ruby is there, stupid red leather jacket and blonde hair and the smirk he hates so much. She walks around the demons up to Sam, who’s face is cold and expressionless. “She’s coming.”

“I know,” he says. “If this doesn’t work, I’m going to kill you.”

“Promise?” she returns. “If this doesn’t work, death will be a mercy.”

Dean tries to push Bobby off of him, to get in between Sam and this bitch, but he doesn’t let go.

Then there’s a little girl in a white dress, head tilted to the side. “Something here belongs to me.”

Ruby flinches, stepping just slightly behind Sam.

“Not you,” she sneers. “You haven’t belonged to me in a long time, I fear. You really think that this boy can save you?”

“Sam,” Ruby says.

He sighs, like this is a trial, and raises his hand.

Lilith’s sneer drops from her face. Her upper body yanks forward, but her legs won't move. “You bastard,” she snarls, raising her hand in return, but nothing happens.

For the first time, fear flickers across her face.

Ruby steps forward, her own terror swallowed up by arrogance, by delight.

Dean tries to move, but finds he’s just as frozen as Lilith, even more so. He can’t twitch a single muscle. Going by Bobby’s unnatural stillness next to him, he assumes he’s in the same boat.

“Samuel is the heir of the light bringer,” Ruby says. “He has taken his birthright. You can’t touch him.”

What’s she talking about? What birthright?

What has Sam done?

“No,” Lilith snarls. “He’s nothing more than one of Azazel’s experiments.”

“A night, a full day, and then morning,” Ruby says. “That’s what he was. Then he rose on the third day.” She shoots a mocking look his way. “If it weren’t for his brother, he would have died nothing more than a failed experiment. But he has risen.”

No. What does that mean? What’s she saying? He had just wanted Sammy back.

Did he do this? Is this his fault?

“Ruby,” Sam says, a note of warning in his voice.

“Right, right,” she sighs. Then, back to gleeful, “Her eyes.”

Sam’s finger twitches and Lilith’s eyes bleed black tears.

She screams, the sound even worse because her vessel is a child.

Ruby lists thing after thing, pulling out her fingernails, peeling her skin. Her blood is black, none of it red, and the injuries shouldn’t really be hurting her but they clearly are. Dean watches helplessly as Sam tortures Lilith at Ruby’s command, enacting one terrible thing against her after another.

Lilith lies there, moaning, limbs broken, body in pieces.

“That’s enough,” Sam says.

“Enough?” Ruby hisses, turning to face him. “You know what she did to me! She – she–”

Sam’s stoic mask breaks, creasing in sympathy. Dean would prefer it wasn’t for a demon, for Ruby, but at least he now recognizes his brother. He raises his free hand to her head, his touch an oddly gentle counterpoint to everything he’s done to Lilith. “I know. But it’s enough.”

Tears glint in her eyes, just for a second, then she swallows and nods, stepping away from Sam’s hand.

He steps forward, crouching in front of Lilith. “You shouldn’t have come after my brother. Now we both have to live with the consequences.” His mouth twists. "So to speak."

Whatever she would have said in response is lost in her screams. Black smoke pours from her, then lights up, like a spark in steel wool, the fire moving through her reminding him almost of the Colt.

Lilith dies. Sam kills her, no Colt, no devil’s trap. Nothing but his own terrifying powers.

“Will you bow to me now?” he asks.

Ruby tears her eyes from Lilith’s corpse and her irritating fucking smirk slides back into place. “Now?” She steps closer, tilting her head back almost like she’s about to kiss him, then falls gracefully to her knees in front of him. It looks more like she’s about to give him a blowjob than a form of subservience, but he thinks that for a moment Sam almost seems amused. “I bowed to you first.”

“So you did,” he says softly. He raises his voice. “Move out. Casey. You know your job.”

“Yes, sire,” says one of the demons, voice almost familiar.

Then Sam’s walking away, Ruby just a step behind him. The other demons follow suit, the hellhounds not even glancing at Dean as they get caught up in the procession.

Sam still won’t look at him. He only sees the back of his brother’s head as he leaves him behind

The only demon left is Casey. He knows her, he recognizes her, the demon he’d been trapped with in that city full of sin, the one that Sam had shot and killed. He’d seen him kill her.

She gets to her feet, offering him a smile as she draws closer. “Hello, Dean. I bet you never thought you’d see me again.”

She steps right into the devil’s trap and presses a hand to him and Bobby each. As soon as she touches them, they’re able to move, darting away from her and leaving her stuck in the devil’s trap.

“What the hell was that?” he asks, wishing his voice wasn’t shaking, but he has more important things to worry about.

She turns to face them. “Samuel does not want you to die. He did what he had to do to ensure you wouldn’t.”

“The fuck you talking about?” Bobby asks gruffly.

“I told you back then I was ready to follow Sam,” she says, stepping out of the devil’s trap like it’s nothing, which she definitely shouldn’t be able to do. Bobby hadn't thought that this thing would be able to contain Lilith, but Casey’s nowhere near Lilith’s level. It should work on her just fine.

Bobby’s hand darts out, throwing holy water over her, but it doesn’t so much as steam.

She just looks amused. “That won’t work on me now. Neither will an exorcism, or any of the usual tricks. I have been purified.” She holds out her hand to Dean and it’s the Colt, the one that they’d lost when Bela sold it. “This is the only thing that will kill me now.”

“And you’re just handing it over?” Dean asks.

“I have my orders,” she says steadily. “Samuel wants you to have it.”

His entire body goes gold.

“What do you mean purified?” Bobby asks, shooting Dean a concerned look. “You’re a demon. Purifying you should kill you.”

“And was Lucifer a demon?” she asks. “I have taken the sacrament.”

Dean doesn’t know what that means, but Bobby’s expression shifts from disgust to shock to a horror filled curiosity. “You drank Sam’s blood?”

She did what?

“I have taken the sacrament,” she repeats, lifting her chin. “Samuel purified me.”

How the hell would Sam’s blood do that? Why had she drank it in the first place? She’s a demon, not a damn vampire. Dean pushes those questions aside and instead asks, “How are you even alive?”

“Samuel resurrected me,” she says. First he can kill demons, and now he can bring them back? “He knows we had a rapport and he thought it would be easier if it was me.”

“What would be easier?” he asks. His head is spinning and his heart hurts and he doesn’t understand anything that just happened. At least being dragged to hell would have been simpler.

She presses the Colt into his hands. “Samuel doesn’t want you to die. He knows this will be difficult for you, that you’ll make poor choices. I have my orders. I am to stay with you and keep you alive. We’re going to get to know each other very well, Dean.”

“Like hell,” he says gruffly, hand tightening as he takes the Colt and raises it to her head. “What’s to stop me from killing you?”

“The same thing that will stop you from killing Samuel,” she says and he flinches. “Nothing.”

He stares at her. He can’t bring himself to speak.

“You’ll have to hunt him down the old fashioned way,” she says casually. “But if you can find him, you can kill him. We’re all under orders not to touch you. Samuel won’t stop you if you want kill him. The same way I won’t stop you if you want to kill me.”

“Why?” he asks.

She shrugs. “It’s always been up to you, Dean. He trusts you. If you decide that he must die, then he’s willing to die.”

Dean sold his soul for him. He’s not going to fucking kill him.

But the Sam he sold his soul for wasn’t capable of doing that to Lilith. He wouldn’t have even wanted to be.

“What about your demon lover?” Dean asks, thinking of the priest that Casey had embraced and kissed, the demon she’d begged to spare Dean’s life before Sam had killed them both. “Sam bring him back too?”

Grief chases across her face before she smooths it away. “He will. If I am good, and obedient, and loyal, then Samuel will bring him back for me.”

Dean’s stomach rolls to hear Sam described like that, like some sort of tyrant or king. Like Dad. “You really believe that?”

Casey meets his gaze steadily as she echoes the words she’d said to him in that basement as she spoke of Lucifer, except now she’s talking about his brother. “I have faith.”

[goblin-jr]

And then i go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like i love you. 

Part 7 of 12

Synopsis: Kissing butt and moving forward

Pairing: unrequited JJ x Reader, Eventual Rafe x Reader

Warnings: sleazy old men being creepy, mild mentions of SA

Before you start this chapter, please listen to this song, this is pivotal to understanding y/n’s thoughts during the last scene. https://open.spotify.com/track/4zXuYQNDmw3dlauyc8q3Kd?si=646c78b4897948b6 

masterlist

—------

The country club was alive with the usual hum of polished interactions: the soft clinking of glasses, the shuffle of wait staff in black and white uniforms, and the low murmur of conversation filling the grand, gilded ballroom. Y/N moved through the space, her tray steady in her hands as she refilled water glasses and delivered drinks with practiced ease. Her eyes darted from task to task, trying to stay focused, but something gnawed at her.

She could feel the weight of JJ’s breath on her lips, the sting of his casual response when she’d told him how she felt. The memory of his pity-kiss made her stomach turn even now. It was hard to escape the feeling that something had irrevocably shifted between them. She didn’t want to think about it—not today. Today, she wanted answers, or at least a sign that things hadn’t fallen apart entirely.

She caught sight of him across the room, missing the usual smirk as he wiped down a table, leaning over to clear away dirty glasses. She walked toward him with a steadiness she didn’t feel. A few steps from his table, she hesitated, unsure what to say, but the chance to confront him felt too important to waste. Her heart was already racing before she even spoke his name.

"JJ."

He looked up, his blue eyes meeting hers for the briefest moment, but something in his expression shifted immediately. There was no warmth, no recognition of the awkwardness between them. He glanced over her shoulder, then back at her. “Not now, Y/N. I’m busy.”

The dismissal was swift, practiced. He didn’t even try to hide the way his gaze flitted away, settling on the next table with a customer’s request. As if she wasn’t there at all.

Y/N stood still for a moment, her breath caught in her throat. His back was already turned before she could say anything more. She swallowed hard, forcing her feet to move, the space between them suddenly feeling vast.

Before she could retreat further into herself, her manager appeared in her line of sight, his face set in the familiar, detached mask he wore when he had work for her.

“Y/N,” he called sharply, already holding out a clipboard. “You’re on for the private event tonight. Bikini server.”

The words hit her like a punch in the gut. She didn’t need to hear anything else. She knew exactly what that meant. A private party—one of those parties. The kind that everyone whispered about in the break room, and which most staff avoided at all costs. But there was no avoiding it when it was assigned.

Her stomach sank, and her mouth went dry as she reached for the clipboard without a word.

“Get dressed and head to the back. The event’s starting soon.”

She nodded mechanically, but inside, her pulse was already hammering. She had never done this before, however she heard about it from the other servers. the uncomfortable leers, the condescending smiles, the silent assessment of her in a bikini by a room full of men who didn’t care who she was as long as she was serving drinks. It was part of the job. She didn’t have a choice.

As the manager walked away, a memory crept into her mind. The last time she’d been assigned to a private event like this, JJ had intervened. She remembered him, laughing loudly and knocking over a tray of glasses in a clumsy but deliberate mess. His excuse to their boss had been thin, but it had worked—he’d saved her from being part of that atmosphere.

“If it ever happens again, just call me,” his words echoed in her mind. “I’ll have your back.”

She was grateful then. Grateful for the distraction, the sudden sense of safety, the way he’d made sure she didn’t have to endure the sleazy men and their eyes. But now, as she stood in the hallway, her phone gripped tightly in her hand, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was on her own this time.

Y/N’s fingers trembled as she pulled out her phone and unlocked it. She scrolled through her contacts until JJ’s name appeared. The hope that maybe—just maybe—he would come through for her again flashed in her chest. He promised she thought, swallowing hard.

She hit the call button, and the phone rang once. Then again.

With every passing second, her heart beat harder against her chest. The ringing seemed to stretch on forever, her breath quickening as the screen flashed with each new ring.

"Come on, JJ," she whispered, tapping the phone to her ear again.

The voicemail kicked in before she could brace herself. The robotic voice was the final blow.

She let out a shaky breath, her thumb hovering over the screen. Then, without thinking, she recorded a message, her voice quieter than she meant it to be.

“Hey, JJ… it’s Y/N. I, uh, I just wanted to remind you of what you said last time. You know, if something like this happens again, you’d have my back? Well, I’m going to that party tonight. And I could really use you here. But, you know, whatever. If you’re busy...”

Her voice cracked as she tried to finish, but the words stopped. She felt ridiculous, desperate. It wasn’t supposed to sound like this.

She cleared her throat and ended the message, but the silence afterward felt deafening. She hit “send” and stared at the screen, willing him to call her back.

When it went to voicemail, she just stood there for a moment, her heart sinking deeper. Her thumb hovered over the phone, but she didn’t press anything.

He's not coming.

She shoved the phone back into her pocket, the weight of it dragging her down. A last, fleeting sense of hope ebbed away, and she squared her shoulders. She wasn’t going to let it stop her. She couldn’t.

Her mind whirled, her thoughts a whirlwind of frustration and disappointment. She stuffed the phone into her pocket, straightened her shoulders, and forced her feet to move.

She passed by the staff locker rooms, the faint chatter of colleagues filtering out as they prepped for their own assignments. She moved past them with her head down, barely noticing the stares, her mind consumed by the scene ahead.

The ballroom loomed before her, its golden chandeliers gleaming in the dim light, the sound of clinking glasses and muted conversations pressing against her. She could already feel it—the weight of the men’s eyes, the way they would look at her like she was nothing more than the drinks she was about to serve.

But she kept walking, one foot in front of the other. It was just another job. She had to do this.

She could almost feel the eyes on her as she entered the ballroom. The air felt thick, heavy with expectation. She could already imagine the looks she would get, the comments they would make, the way her stomach would twist every time a man would glance at her with that knowing look.

Just get through it, she told herself. Just get through it.

–

The sound of clinking glasses and low conversation buzzed around Y/N as she awkwardly navigated through the crowd of older men in dark suits, her tray trembling slightly in her hands. She hated the smell of expensive cologne mixing with the stale air of the country club’s ballroom, and even more, she hated the way they looked at her—like she was nothing more than a decoration in a bikini, a piece of scenery for their business deals.

Y/N had been coerced into working this private event by her boss, who couldn’t care less that she was underage and shouldn't be serving drinks to these men. It was a way to make quick cash, and as usual, she had little choice. The job wasn’t worth the pit in her stomach, though. She could feel the eyes on her, too many stares lingering longer than they should. The glances from the men made her skin crawl.

Then, a hand gripped her wrist.

Y/N’s head snapped around to see a man, probably in his sixties, staring at her with a smug grin. The warmth of his hand made her skin crawl as he tugged her closer. 

"Hey, sweetheart," he slurred, his breath smelling of whiskey. "Can I get another drink over here?" His eyes lingered too long, the leer obvious.

She tried to pull away, her heart racing. "Please, let go," she said firmly, but he didn’t budge. 

The man’s grip tightened as his eyes roved over her body. "You don’t need to be shy, darling."

Without warning, he slapped her hard—his hand making a sickening smack as it landed on her bare skin. Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as the shock rippled through her, and she stumbled back, barely managing to steady herself. A sting bloomed across her backside, where his hand had landed.

She couldn’t stop the hot wave of humiliation that flooded over her. Her mind screamed for escape, and she bolted, running away from the man and the crowd of leering faces. 

Y/N didn’t even know where she was going until she found herself outside, standing in the dark, hands shaking. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, but she wiped them away quickly. She needed to get out. 

"Hey!" A voice called out from behind her, and she turned, startled.

Rafe Cameron stood in the doorway, looking out of place in his designer clothes amidst the worn-out, sea-washed buildings of the country club’s back lot. He must’ve been checking out his yacht nearby. His eyes softened when they landed on her, and it was the first time she noticed how different he looked, how much the usually cocky and aloof guy seemed almost… concerned.

"What happened?" Rafe asked, his voice low and serious, and it took her a moment to realize he wasn’t mocking her.

Y/N’s heart pounded. "I’m fine. Just—just go back inside." She tried to sound confident, but it came out more like a plea.

Rafe stepped closer, his gaze flicking over her. "Don’t bullshit me. You’re not fine." His eyes flickered to her side, where the imprint of the slap was already beginning to show a bruise that would likely darken by morning.

Without thinking, Rafe reached out, his thumb brushing over the mark. His touch was gentle, almost tender, and the contrast between his usual arrogant demeanor and this softness caught her off guard. He leaned down slowly, pressing a kiss to the bruise—just the slightest brush of his lips against her skin.

It wasn’t anything like what the men had done. It was nothing like the way they touched her.

Y/N froze. It wasn’t just the kiss. It was the kindness, the way he seemed to care, the way he wasn’t treating her like an object. For the first time in forever, she felt like someone actually saw her.

Rafe pulled back, his eyes searching hers. There was a moment of silence where neither of them knew quite what to say. His eyes softened, but then, Y/N’s voice cracked the tension in the air.

“You kissed my butt.” Y/N blinked, her brows knitting in confusion as she looked at him.

“I—I kissed your bruise. Not your—your butt!” Rafe stammered, his face flushing an almost comical shade of red. “Look, it was an accident, okay? I just saw the bruise, and I wanted to… you know, I don’t know… make it better?”

She fought a smile as she crossed her arms, feeling a mix of disbelief and amusement. “You kissed my butt.”

“No! I—well, I didn’t—okay, I did, but it wasn’t like that,” Rafe blurted out, his hands flying up in a panic as if he could somehow reverse the ridiculousness of the situation. “It was just a reflex, alright? You looked like you were in pain, and I—ugh, God, this is coming out so wrong.”

Y/N couldn’t help it. A laugh bubbled up, escaping before she could even stop it. The sheer awkwardness of the moment was too much, and she felt the tension break in a way she hadn’t expected.

“You kissed my butt,” she said again, this time with a grin that reached her eyes.

Rafe groaned, his hands rubbing his face in frustration. “Please, don’t tell anyone about this. I swear, I’ve never been this embarrassed in my life.”

But Y/N wasn’t listening to his rambling. She was still laughing, and somehow, it made her feel lighter, like the weight of the world inside her chest wasn’t so suffocating anymore.

Rafe stood there, frozen and awkward, clearly unsure if he should laugh along or hide from the humiliation. But as the moment stretched on, his gaze softened. He stepped closer, his fingers brushing against hers.

"You’re not alone, Y/N," he murmured, his voice dropping lower, his usual bravado gone for a second. “I’ve got you.”

Y/N looked at him, really looked at him. She didn’t feel like a piece of the scenery anymore, didn’t feel like she was something to be discarded or objectified. Rafe had done something stupid, sure, but it was more than that. He hadn’t treated her like a thing; he’d treated her like a person. And despite the chaos, despite the awkward kiss on her backside, for the first time in a long while, she felt seen.

And in that quiet, vulnerable moment, she didn’t hold back. Her heart thumped in her chest as she reached up, pulling him toward her and pressing her lips to his. It was desperate and unguarded, the kind of kiss that said everything they hadn’t said yet.

Rafe’s hands found her waist instantly, his grip firm but gentle, pulling her closer. It wasn’t about the kiss anymore. It wasn’t about the confusion or the embarrassment. For once, Y/N didn’t feel like she was something to be pitied or tolerated. She felt wanted. She felt enough.

When they finally pulled apart, the world felt different, as if everything had shifted on its axis.

Rafe was still watching her, his gaze full of something she couldn’t quite place. But there was one thing she knew for sure now.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered again, his voice soft but sure.

And in that moment, she knew she wasn’t alone anymore.

---

Bonus

---

A week passed, and life seemed to go back to normal—sort of. Y/N tried to bury the memory of the country club party, but it lingered in the back of her mind, along with Rafe’s unexpected tenderness. The days since have been nothing but amazing. It wasn’t just the kiss—it was everything he’d done. It was like he saw her, really saw her, for the first time.

She was walking to the market when she passed by the country club, feeling the familiar weight of the place she had hoped to forget. Her steps faltered when she saw the manager standing outside, suitcase in hand, looking disgraced.

She blinked, then did a double take. The manager was leaving. Wasn’t he supposed to be working tonight? And wasn’t it just a few days ago that she’d overheard him muttering about having another event to handle?

Curiosity gnawed at her. She approached one of the other servers, trying to sound casual. "Hey, what happened to the manager? He looks... well, he looks like he’s not coming back."

The server looked around nervously before shrugging. “You didn’t hear? He got fired, like, out of nowhere. No one knows why. They said it’s something to do with his behavior at the last event. Real bad stuff.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. She felt the adrenaline start to pump through her veins as the pieces began to click together.

---

That evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and Rafe showed up at her house unannounced, she felt the need to ask. They were sitting on the porch, sharing a silence that felt strangely comfortable, the air still warm from the day’s heat.

She finally broke the quiet. “Rafe… about the manager at the country club.”

He raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into that cocky grin that always made her stomach flip. “Yeah?”

Y/N hesitated, watching him closely. “Did you have anything to do with him getting fired?”

Rafe didn’t flinch. He didn’t even look at her, just took a slow sip of his drink, exhaling with a lazy grin, fully relaxed. “What, you think I got him fired?”

Y/N studied him, her pulse quickening. She could read him well enough now—he was hiding something, but whether it was guilt or pride, she couldn’t tell. “Did you?”

Rafe's eyes locked onto hers, the usual playful spark in his gaze replaced with something deeper. He shrugged like he was too cool to care, but there was a quiet intensity in his gaze. “Maybe. Maybe not. Doesn’t really matter, does it?”

Y/N’s stomach did a flip. There was no regret in his voice—just that casual, confident air that made her feel both at ease and a little... nervous. But it wasn’t just the words; it was the way he said them. Rafe didn’t do things by half-measures, especially not when it came to her.

“I don’t want to be your charity case, Rafe,” she said, her voice steady despite the tightening in her chest. “I don’t want you doing things like that for me.”

Rafe leaned back in his chair, the air around him thick with the kind of confidence that made everything else fade into the background. His eyes never left hers. “You’re not a charity case, Y/N.” He set his drink down slowly, his voice dropping an octave, and she felt it in her bones. “I’m not doing anything for you that I wouldn’t do for anyone I care about. But if you think this is me doing you some big favor, you’ve got it all wrong, it's just how I handle things.”

He let the words hang there for a moment, like he was giving her space to process, but the message was clear. He wasn’t some guy looking for recognition, and he wasn’t going to apologize for taking care of things in his own way.

“You’re not weak,” he continued, his voice dropping lower, more serious. “You don’t need anyone to fix things for you, but that doesn’t mean I’m just gonna sit back and let people treat you like shit.”

His gaze softened, his tone just a little more intense, and Y/N felt a rush of something—relief? Gratitude? Maybe a little something else she wasn’t ready to admit.

Rafe wasn’t looking for credit. He wasn’t trying to be her knight in shining armor. He was just doing what came naturally to him: protecting the people he cared about, even if it meant taking down someone who’d crossed the line.

He didn’t say more, but the quiet confidence in his words was enough to make Y/N realize that he had her back—whether she liked it or not. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

-----

Next up: happy times

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Taglist:

@hockeybabe87 , @idiotussupremus , @certifiedhaters , @oatmealisweird, @sluggmuffin , @maybankslover , @ren-ni, @wh0reforbucknasty

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a/n :)

[gay-dorito-dust]

Cat boy Zayne who gives you kitten kisses after you kissed his head. He loves reciprocating the affection you give him as you deserve it in his eyes.

Cat boy Zayne meows as he enters the room, almost as though he’s saying ‘hello’ or ‘pardon for the intrusion’ before he makes himself comfortable by your side, listening to you read aloud for him as he purrs in content. That or he waits for you to open the door, looking up at you with adoring eyes as he meows at you softly before moving into your room.

Cat boy rafayel would get pissy when you show other cats attention, so much so to the point where he feels the need to one up them by behaving himself and or just getting to you first before the other cats.

The fucker even climbs on high shelves and meows for your attention. He hates having to fight for your attention but he’ll be petty if he must to get it. Probably ruins your favourite plushie and tried to act innocent as the evidence lays at his paws…

Cat boy sylus is always accompanied by Luke and Kieran, who are mischievous cat boys in their own right. However Sylus loves to act like he’s hunting you as he hunkers down with his eyes wide and his hips wiggle vigorously before he lunges at you, smirking with pride when he towers above you in triumph.

Sits at the window and thinks he’s looks mysterious, but he’s actually being cute as he chitters as he eyes prey he unfortunately can’t reach due to being indoors and staring out of the window. He even looks back at you as though he’s expecting you to let him out so he can hunt, not knowing that he’s very much a domesticated house cat who will follow you to work by using your scent.

Cat boy Xavier would sleep on your bed even if it’s heavily advised that he shouldn’t, but you couldn’t fight against those beautiful rag doll kitty eyes that he gives you as he flattens his ears to his head, which only makes it worse and you end up having a cat who for some reason takes up most of your bed.

He kneads your tits

He sits next to you when your eating because he knows your the weakest link and will let him eat your food, if you don’t he’ll just take some and your forced to hunt him down to get the food out of his mouth.

[robo-writing]

Fic I’d love to write if I wasn’t in a creative rut:

I have reached the point in my life I realize I just have a straight kink for authority/spanking so reader fic where the Reader and Logan are paired up on a mission and they purposefully ignore him and get them into trouble and he’s fucking pissed about it, maybe a throwaway, “I should tan your fucking hide for that.”

Reader just replies with a, “Prove it, jackass.”

Cue when they’re alone that night, reader gets shanghaied and ends up, nude, hands tied, over his knee, Logan ranting as he brings his palm down, not even counting just going until he sees fit

Is this deeply self indulgent and specific to me? Maybe, but oh well, there you go :-3c

It's one of those stereotypes that you see in cheesy porn films—the defiant brat and the strong authority figure ready to give her the discipline she clearly never got before. A trope that's been played out far too many times— —and yet, it's exactly why you're currently like this. The authority figure—Logan in this case, and you—the brat, who in Logan's words: "Needed a major attitude adjustment." And his proven method of adjustment involved you, spread across his lap with your ass laid bare, his to admire when it jiggles beneath the friction of his palm. Each slap has you reeling, thighs pressed together, the shock of it sending you forward until his strong hand pulls you by the hair and forces you right where he wants you. You cry into his thigh, hands white-knuckled into the sheets as he goes on and on, blow by blow, the sound of each one followed by his cruel voice echoing through the air. "Got real quiet when you got put on my lap—" Slap. "Come on, nothing to say? Sure wanted to mouth off earlier." Slap. You can hear the mockery in his tone, voice low. "Don't get shy on me, where's all that fire gone?" Slap. Slap. Slap. You're reduced to sniffling, hiccuped sobs and it's only now he gives you a break. Gently, as if cradling a child, he lifts you in his arms, a hand against your backside as to not aggravate your already sensitive skin. He pulls your hair away from your face, wipes your tears from your face with his thumb. He waits patiently for you to compose yourself, then speaks. "Hey, gimme a check-in, how you holding up?" It's hard to speak at first, voice caught in your chest before you're able to respond. "G-Good, feels good." "Yeah?" Logan affirms. "Really took a beating there." You start to giggle, and he gives a smile in return. "There she is, I missed that sound." You hum, curling yourself further into his arms. He smells like the earth, like a forest fresh from the rain. It's almost enough to distract you from the sting of his hands, but not enough. "Probably won't be able to sit down for a while." You mutter. "Yeah, probably not," he answers, carrying you to the bed. "Shouldn't've mouthed off though."

[connection-terminated-blog]

Connection terminated. I'm sorry to interrupt you, Elizabeth, if you still even remember that name, But I'm afraid you've been misinformed. You are not here to receive a gift, nor have you been called here by the individual you assume, although, you have indeed been called. You have all been called here, into a labyrinth of sounds and smells, misdirection and misfortune. A labyrinth with no exit, a maze with no prize. You don't even realize that you are trapped. Your lust for blood has driven you in endless circles, chasing the cries of children in some unseen chamber, always seeming so near, yet somehow out of reach, but you will never find them. None of you will. This is where your story ends. And to you, my brave volunteer, who somehow found this job listing not intended for you, although there was a way out planned for you, I have a feeling that's not what you want. I have a feeling that you are right where you want to be. I am remaining as well. I am nearby. This place will not be remembered, and the memory of everything that started this can finally begin to fade away. As the agony of every tragedy should. And to you monsters trapped in the corridors, be still and give up your spirits. They don't belong to you. For most of you, I believe there is peace and perhaps more waiting for you after the smoke clears. Although, for one of you, the darkest pit of Hell has opened to swallow you whole, so don't keep the devil waiting, old friend. My daughter, if you can hear me, I knew you would return as well. It's in your nature to protect the innocent. I'm sorry that on that day, the day you were shut out and left to die, no one was there to lift you up into their arms the way you lifted others into yours, and then, what became of you. I should have known you wouldn't be content to disappear, not my daughter. I couldn't save you then, so let me save you now. It's time to rest - for you, and for those you have carried in your arms. This ends for all of us. End communication.

How to put “wrote fan-fiction” on your résumé:

Leveraged an inventory of established fictional character and setting elements to generate a disruptive custom-curated narrative entertainment asset.

[butlervibesonly]

𝑆𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡 ℎ𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑔 || Austin Butler

• Summary : Austin had a rough day filming, and Y/n wants him to feel better as he comes home. Dinner, and, welp, a hot bath that isn't just a hot bath...

• Pairing : Austin Butler x female! reader

• Warnings : fluff, kisses and little bit of spiciness by the end...

• Note : I wish, and I'm repeating, I wish, I could write spicy scenes and the more I wish is to be able to finish them (forgive me) 😭🥲

Being an actor is surely amazing thing. Although it could be also very exhausting, and it can be rough. And that's Austin's case. He texted you more than once saying how much he was looking forward to going home, that he had had a hard day and was tired.

After a grueling day on set, he finally steps through the door, exhaustion visible in his eyes and in the heavy slump of his shoulders. The moment Austin walks in, though, he’s greeted by the warm, savory aroma of his favorite food drifting from the kitchen.

“Hey, babe, I'm home,” he calls out softly, and you peek around the corner, giving him a warm smile. You can see just how drained he is, and without a word, you walk over and wrap your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. Austin lets out a sigh, resting his head against yours, clinging to you as if you’re the only thing keeping him grounded.

“I made your favorite,” you say softly, giving him a little smile. “I thought you might need a good meal after today.” His eyes soften, and he leans down to press a grateful kiss against your lips. And woah, how much he missed those lips. “You have no idea how much I needed this.”

You guide him to the table, where you’ve already set up everything—candles, his favorite dish, and even a little dessert. As Austin sits down, he looks around, visibly touched by the thought and care you’ve put into making this night special. You serve him, and as he takes his first bite, he lets out a satisfied hum, his eyes meeting yours with a grateful, softened expression.

"This. Is. Frickin'. Delicious." Austin said every word in the way to make you know this was what he craved for. "You're the best cook I know," he says, continuing to eat his food. "Well, thank you, dreamboat." you chuckle.

After dinner, you reach for Austin's hand, pulling him gently toward the bathroom. “I have one more surprise,” you say with a playful smile. He raises an eyebrow, curious, but lets you lead him inside, where you’ve already prepared a warm bubble bath. The room is softly lit with candles, the bath filled with bubbles and infused with his favorite soothing scents. He stares in awe for a second, then looks at you, clearly moved.

“I can’t believe you did all this…for me,” he says, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he pulls you in for another hug. “Of course I did,” you murmur, brushing a hand through his hair. “You do so much every day, and I just want you to relax tonight.”

He squeezes your hand and when he noticed that you actually also added rose petals, he can't help but laugh. "Do you know you should be the one who deserves such a romantic bath?" Austin jokes, making you smile. "You mean a rough man like you doesn't deserve a little tenderness?"

Austin laughs back at your humor, and starts to take off his clothes. As much as you fight the urge, you still watch his muscular body. He gets in, comfortable in the warm water, closes his eyes, the tension in his shoulders finally easing. "Wait a second," you managed to speak again, leaving him in the bathroom.

As you come back, you carry a glass of champagne with a strawberry in it. "There you go," you say, handing him the glass. Austin's smile widen, making him smirk. "You haven't forgotten anything, have you?" he said and took a sip. You follow him with your eyes, every move, every sigh he lets out. Even though he is tired, he is incredibly hot.

"Are you just going to stand there and watch?" Austin lets out, when he notices you standing there like a fool. "Join me, the tub is big enough." he smirks. How is even possible he can make you feel butterflies like some teenage girl?

After doubting for a moment, he nodded his head towards the bath to signal that there was plenty of room beside him. Finally, you agreed, taking your clothes off, too. His eyes don't leave you, capturing your every move. He holds out his hand, which is wet, covered in bubbles, to help you get inside.

You lay beside him, his arm around your shoulders as he press a kiss into your hair. You can feel the way his body reacts to your touch, making him hum. You then felt Austin kissing your neck, more intensively every time.

"I thought you were tired?" You smirked, looking at him. "I'm never too tired for you, doll," he says, his voice deep. Doll. That nickname is stuck with him since he played Elvis and you absolutely loved it. His hands started to roam around your body, and eventually flipped you, so you lay on the top of him.

You heard the water splash out when he did so. Gasping a little, he pressed his lips against yours. "You're so, so amazing. I can't get enough of you." Austin breathes fast as he continues pressing a small kisses all around your neck.

The original plan was for you to watch a movie together, but now it's clear that Mr. Butler has something much different planned...

[hoshifighting]

I can’t wait for the day you decide to give us staff woozi😭🫶 Like yes give me that man ⚰️⚰️⚰️

staff!woozi

WARNINGS: suggestive, wet dream, mentions of animes.

staff!woozi who’s practically part of your nervous system, making sure your mic is hot and those earbuds don’t fry your brain mid-show. he’s always just there—like this phantom, gliding in with his little toolbox, brows furrowed in that way he thinks makes him look tough, but honestly, you’re kinda finding it cute now. he doesn’t even have to look at you anymore; just one twitch of your finger, and he knows exactly how to tune your sound to perfection.

you’re halfway through soundcheck, squinting against the stage lights that feel hot enough to cook you alive, when your left earbud goes all staticy. and before you even manage to do your little signal—a quick point down—he’s already behind you. no warning. just his voice in your ear, all low, like he’s got some big secret: “left one’s crackling again?”

you turn, one eyebrow up. “damn, woozi, you psychic now or what?”

he just huffs, pulling the earbud from your hand with this look like, duh. “you’re predictable,” he says, but there’s that ghost of a smirk, just the tiniest hint of it, which—yeah, okay, it gets to you a bit.

he’s fiddling with it, fingers so precise you swear it’s like watching magic. “you keep playing with ‘em too much. one more yank, and i’m replacing it.”

“not my fault they suck,” you mutter, grinning when he gives you that little glare, one that says i dare you to test me.

“try it again..” he mutters, his voice dry, clipped. he’s already yanked a whole mess of cables and tested every single one, but well, it’s jihoon. he’s on his perfectionist shit.

“testin’… one, two…” you go through it, all monotone, like you’re recitin’ a grocery list.

he glances up, hands fiddlin’ with some random connector piece, but he’s noddin’, brows all scrunched up like he’s concentratin’ on the meaning of life. and then, without even lookin’ at you, he says, “speak up like you’re actually performin’—not just for me.”

staff!woozi, in his worn-out, slightly-too-tight black t-shirt, earphones looped around his neck like some kinda edgy fashion statement, looks too good for your eyes.

“i am performin’,” you toss back, brows raised. “just, y’know, waitin’ for the tech crew to keep up.”

he scoffs, and finally, he looks up, an eyebrow quirked in that way he does when he’s two seconds away from roastin’ you to death. “keep up? alright, superstar, let’s get your fancy ass mic workin’ then.”

staff!woozi who's always fumbling with your clothing as he fix the mic return on your back. mumbling something about the mic feedback being all off. and with this stage clothing, the skin-tight fabric practically painted on you, there’s no space to breathe—let alone to move. so when he reaches to adjust the receiver on your back, the boy have no gentleness to tidy it up.

“how can you even breathe in these? hold still.” he sulks. his fingers brush against your skin, just under the edge of the outfit, and you swear his touch is cool, like ice, but somehow it sends this weird heat up your body. his hand skims along your back, his fingers grazing just under the fabric, feeling way more personal than it should.

“this is… really necessary?” you breathe out, tryin’ to keep your voice casual, even though your heart’s doin’ that embarrassingly loud thud-thud thing.

he doesn’t even look fazed, just gives you a quick, smug look, like he can sense your pulse trippin’ over itself. “unless you want the mic feed to sound like a dying robot… yeah, this is necessary.”

his hand lingers just a second too long on your skin before he adjusts the strap at your shoulder, his thumb grazing the edge of the outfit. you’re caught somewhere between wantin’ to annoyingly roll your eyes or “hornyly” roll your eyes.

staff!woozi who somehow, always ends up next to you on the road, no matter where you sit, and by now, you’ve kinda claimed his shoulder as your own personal pillow. he doesn’t complain—just settles in, eyes closed, arms crossed, and lets you drift off.

but today, as your head leans into that familiar spot, his voice pipes up. “y’know, there are other seats.”

you crack an eye open, only to see him smirking down at you. he’s lookin’ all pompous, like he’s finally pieced together your little routine. “it’s just… comfortable,” you mumble, shoving your face back into his shoulder, feelin’ the soft weight of his hoodie, and okay, maybe the solidness of his arm too.

he chuckles, a sound that’s too close to teasing. “oh, so i’m a human pillow now?”

“pretty much,” you mutter, pretendin’ to yawn. ��it’s just… efficient.”

next thing you know, you’re both out cold, side by side, and the crew’s gotta wake you both up at the next stop. you stumble out of the van, all bleary-eyed and yawning, both of you with puffy eyes, while the rest of the team’s trying not to laugh.

staff!woozi who watches animes during his breaks. you’re sittin in the dressing room, half-done with your makeup, feeling that pre-show buzz, and there’s woozi, huddled over his phone, totally zoned out in his own world. you’ve seen him do this before—earbuds in, watchin’ his anime.

so today, curiosity gets the best of you. you wander over, leanin’ over his shoulder, catchin’ a glimpse of bright colors and characters moving around on his screeng

“you’re into this?” you ask, unable to hide the smirk as he looks up, caught.

he pulls one earbud out, glancin’ at you like he’s deciding whether or not to share his “serious” interest. then he sighs, almost reluctantly, but starts explaining the plot, his voice just a little too enthusiastic. and you’re nodding, totally faking that you get it, but he’s so damn into it, you can’t help but get a little wrapped up in his excitement.

when you’re waiting for the other idols to finish up their set, the two of you are back in the dressing room, side by side, watching some random episode. you don’t know half of what’s going on, but jihoon’s talking fast, pointing out characters, explaining every little detail like it’s life or death. you just follow it because staff!woozi is hot.

you don’t know how you ended up here, exactly— n woozi’s hotel room, in your freshest hoodie and sweats, hair still a bit damp from your after-show shower. but you’re here, a slice of pizza in one hand and woozi right next to you, already deep into the latest anime episode like he’s watching some masterpiece.

it started simple enough, you mentioning anime to him once. you barely know the basics, honestly, but your friend is an encyclopedia of every single plot twist, so you could at least fake it a little. and you’d swear woozi’s eyes practically lit up when you said you’d “totally be down to watch something with him, if he had recommendations.” it became your thing on tour—grabbing a pizza, lounging in his room, and watching the latest episodes like two kids after school.

but right now? you’re barely paying attention to the screen. woozi’s sitting next to you in this black tank top, arms looking like he’s been lifting soundboards for fun, thick enough to make your mind drift way off the anime plot. his shorts? even worse. you didn’t even realize a person could look that good just sitting down, like he’s giving you a whole show without even trying.

“are you even watching?” he mutters, catching you totally off guard. woozi raises an eyebrow at you, smirking. damn, he knew.

“oh, yeah, totally!” you stammer, nodding way too enthusiastically. “i know… exactly… what’s going on here.” but that smirk just grows, his gaze sliding back to the screen as if to say, yeah, sure you do.

staff!woozi, who hardly tears his eyes from the screen the whole night, so focused it’s like he’s analyzing every frame. you’re beside him, bundled up in his bed, head lolling as the exhaustion finally takes over, pulling you under. he glances at you every so often—at first just a quick look to make sure you’re out, catching the soft rise and fall of your breathing, the way your lashes brush your cheeks in the low light. you’d been running on fumes all night, so seeing you drift off wasn’t a surprise.

but then, he hears it—his name, whispered under your breath, soft like it’s the only thing on your mind even while you’re dreaming. his focus shifts. your back arches just the tiniest bit, your brows drawn together, thighs pressing tight like you’re holding onto some sweet secret even he isn’t supposed to know.

and suddenly, he’s more tuned into you than the screen, pulse pounding in his ears.

woozi pretends this never happened. or tries to.

staff!woozi, who’s suddenly got a whole new edge to him the next morning, acting all distant like you didn’t just watch an entire anime season in his bed last night. on the plane, you figure things’ll be back to normal—you’ve got this routine where you always end up leaning on his shoulder, especially after long nights. but today, he’s keeping a solid inch between you both, arms crossed like he’s suddenly allergic to any kind of closeness.

you try once, shifting a little closer, giving him that sleepy, half-pouty look that usually does the trick. he just leans away, adjusting his earbuds like he didn’t notice.

you huff. “yo, what’s your deal? i’m just trying to sleep, and you’re over here playing hard-to-get?”

he glances over, raising an eyebrow.

“don’t act like you’re too good for it.” you roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “you let me last night.”

“yeah, well, I’m not your pillow today. i gotta keep my neck in one piece.”

you nudge him with your elbow. “since when did you start caring about your neck, huh? you’re literally hunched over soundboards for a living.”

he shoots you a side-eye. “and maybe that’s why i need to protect it now.”

you snicker, leaning back, but there’s that stubborn pout on your face. “whatever, woozi. don’t get mad at me just ‘cause you didn’t sleep enough watching the show without me.”

you’re still leaning back, sulking a little, when you hear it — just a low mumble under his breath. “not my fault you were… moaning my name last night…”

your head snaps around so fast you practically pull a muscle. “excuse me?” you whisper, eyes wide as saucers.

he stares at you, lips parting slightly as he realizes he definitely said that louder than intended. his eyes dart away, and he’s already sinking into the seat like he might disappear.

you blink, heartbeat going wild as you piece together last night, flashes of the dream you’d had flooding back—heat and skin and his name on your lips. you remember waking up in his bed, flustered and warm, rushing back to your own room before he could see the look on your face.

“so… you heard that?”

his hand goes up to rub the back of his neck, cheeks reddening under that deadpan expression he’s clinging to. “yeah, uh… kinda hard to miss...?”

you bury your face in your hands, groaning, but you can’t resist sneaking a glance at him. he’s biting his lip, looking anywhere but at you, and you swear there’s a faint smirk he’s trying to hide.

“god, woozi, you could’ve just… i dunno, woken me up or something!” you mutter, feeling the burn creep up your cheeks.

“yeah, right,” he snorts, glancing back at you now with this smug little glint in his eyes. “like you’d want that.”

[yan-lorkai]

You said suggestive is fine so could i ask self aware au Octavinelle with a reader who puts their phone on their boobs while they do lessons? (like that one hands free old trend where girls hold bubble tea on their boobs but with reader's phone instead) and reader saving their phone in between their booba due to not having pockets, thank you 🙏

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ a/n: Uuuuh, my dumbass just realized that i didn't, in fact, queue this post hehe 💀💀💀. Now I gotta go and make sure I queued all those other posts, y'all have a good reading

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Azul tries to keep a calm, dignified facade, but the sight of you placing your phone so casually in that spot has him flustered and fidgety behind his screen. He tries to rationalize it — this is just practical for you, after all! — but every time you do it, he’s reminded of the lack of physical boundaries separating him from your personal space. It drives his possessiveness up a notch; he finds himself sneaking glances at his reflection, wondering how long it will take to truly bridge the digital barrier and keep you all to himself. Azul’s jealousy spikes anytime you get close to other characters, knowing they’re seeing the same thing he is, and it pushes him to quietly sabotage any in-game interactions you have that might distract you from him. You should focus only on him.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Jade’s reaction is subtle, but his gaze sharpens with intrigue as he watches your every move. The sight of you slipping the phone between your chest has him deeply fascinated, and he immediately begins analyzing how he might exploit your habits to get closer to you, even as he likes to rest his head over your chest. His curiosity is dark, wondering if, in real life, you’d be so comfortable in his presence, so casual and at ease. Every time you repeat the action, it’s like a reminder that you’re just a step away from letting your guard down completely, and he’s more than happy to wait until you’re at your most comfortable.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Floyd is thrilled. The moment he notices this habit, he’s fixated, snickering and commenting to himself every time he sees you do it. He’s both entertained and weirdly possessive, blurting out all kinds of playful remarks on your screen and even teasing other characters about “getting a little too close” to his “Shrimpy.” Floyd’s unpredictable streak gets stronger; he starts spamming you with messages or notifications when he knows your phone is “tucked away,” just to get your attention and keep you focused on him. He loves the casual intimacy of it, and it only makes him more determined to reach through the screen, to bridge that tiny gap between your phone and himself, so he can finally be the one held so close to you.

[connection-terminated-blog]

Connection terminated. I'm sorry to interrupt you, Elizabeth, if you still even remember that name, But I'm afraid you've been misinformed. You are not here to receive a gift, nor have you been called here by the individual you assume, although, you have indeed been called. You have all been called here, into a labyrinth of sounds and smells, misdirection and misfortune. A labyrinth with no exit, a maze with no prize. You don't even realize that you are trapped. Your lust for blood has driven you in endless circles, chasing the cries of children in some unseen chamber, always seeming so near, yet somehow out of reach, but you will never find them. None of you will. This is where your story ends. And to you, my brave volunteer, who somehow found this job listing not intended for you, although there was a way out planned for you, I have a feeling that's not what you want. I have a feeling that you are right where you want to be. I am remaining as well. I am nearby. This place will not be remembered, and the memory of everything that started this can finally begin to fade away. As the agony of every tragedy should. And to you monsters trapped in the corridors, be still and give up your spirits. They don't belong to you. For most of you, I believe there is peace and perhaps more waiting for you after the smoke clears. Although, for one of you, the darkest pit of Hell has opened to swallow you whole, so don't keep the devil waiting, old friend. My daughter, if you can hear me, I knew you would return as well. It's in your nature to protect the innocent. I'm sorry that on that day, the day you were shut out and left to die, no one was there to lift you up into their arms the way you lifted others into yours, and then, what became of you. I should have known you wouldn't be content to disappear, not my daughter. I couldn't save you then, so let me save you now. It's time to rest - for you, and for those you have carried in your arms. This ends for all of us. End communication.

Doctor: $140,000 a year

Furry artist on Patreon: $160,000 a year

[eudemonia13]

In Bloom

Asmodeus x Reader

Fluff. W.C. 2348

Asmo learns just how much you adore him with the help of human world flower language

Asmodeus liked the Winter.

He liked how the blanket of snow, untouched and perfect, looked like angel down. How the beautiful white hydrangeas were captured in a frosted moment of stillness, as close to being immortalised as he would ever be. Glittering beneath the pale moon like stars fallen from the sky.

He liked the breathlessness that caught his lungs when the cold wind danced through his hair, the tremble of his hands as he took fistfulls of powdery snow and felt his nerves protest before they grew numb.

There was beauty in it, a kind that was out of reach lest it melt from even the gentlest touch. Like a snowflake resting on his fingertip, no matter how cold he willed his blood to run, it would always melt. A beauty that would fade if he held it, no matter how many times he reached out. He smiled, because there was beauty in that yearning too.

Tonight there was no such comfort. It was hot, loud, and buzzing with the energy of lust and passion coursing through the streets. Early in his life he had learned, summer was hot no matter the realm.

Whether it was the ticklish kiss of endless light in the Celestial gardens, or the jewel blues and ivory whites that stretched to the horizon of a human world beach, or even the promising, rich darkness of the Devildom as lights flashed and sweet perfume mingled with smoke like an aphrodisiac, all had a exhilarating energy. All felt like young love, like sugar and sticky lips, and whispered secrets he really should have kept.

In the middle of it all, posed effortlessly beneath an illuminated bar sign, Asmodeus stood waiting more impatient by the minute.

Really, he knew better.

Craning his neck down to steal a glimpse at his D.D.D, and another not thirty seconds later, like the entire street didn’t have him in their sights. Like every perfect, irresistible inch of him wasn’t being watched. Not that a tilt of his head and a pout didn’t look good, he was sure anyone with eyes would be falling over themselves to witness such a cute sight, let alone be the cause of it… But that wasn’t the point. He didn’t chase, he didn’t stand outside any club waiting. He didn’t have to show up 20 minutes early to any date. He was Asmodeus.

All it took was a smile and a pretty bat of his eyes and he had anything, anyone he wanted. But that didn’t matter, because you saw straight through him.

You, a pretty little human with a heart as impenetrable as ice. A human with eyes as sharp as a knife, and a mind to match. You, the quick witted, daring little lambwho had convinced him to give himself to you for just a chance to get close enough to lose himself in the enigma that you were.

His master, who cut him down like it was nothing with those piercing eyes. You treated him like he was anybody else. It didn’t matter that seduction was dripping from his tongue when he called your name, or that his hands hinted at all the wonderful things he could do to you when he painted your nails and traced his name into your palm…

That wasn’t enough for you, you didn’t want quick and easy pleasure, or to reap the benefits that would come with sleeping with him. You didn’t want him, not like that, and he didn’t know how to deal with it. For the first time in his life, the beautiful mask he wore couldn’t hide the things he buried beneath the surface. . . .

“So tell me, have all your needs been met during your stay with us?” He smiled, massaging a luxurious cream into his hands. You were in bed, relaxing in the shared guest room of the Demon lord's castle. His eyes drifted along your form through the reflection of his vanity. Taking in every dip and curve of your body, draped beneath the vermillion blanket that made it so much more fun to imagine what was underneath. “For the most part. It took me a while to get used to no sun, my sleep schedule has been a wreck.” Your voice was soft and a little bit hoarse, no doubt weakened by the eventful day behind you and the pull of sleep.

Simeon had left to look after Luke, which was fine by Asmo, having a moment alone with you was rare. Mammon had been clinging to you like a wet blanket, hovering around you from the moment you had made him yours. Though he hated to admit it, Lust and Greed had more in common than one might think. Both of them wanted.

“Hm, I’d hate to see that delicate skin of yours become dull, Little lamb… If you aren’t sleeping, there are more than a few ways to pass the time and wear you out.” He smiled at you, holding your gaze while trailing his hand down his forearm, and under his robe. You smiled at him and shook your head. “Haha, I’m good thanks.”

The heavy silence that had settled was cut by the chime of your notifications going off. With a stretch, you patted your arm around and reached for your D.D.D. “So, uh…” He didn’t look up, letting you continue.

But you didn’t. This wasn’t something he was used to, people were stunned by his beauty, yeah, blessed by his presence… But no compliments fell from your lips, no dreamy look glossed over your eyes, and his oh so tempting offer hadn’t stolen your breath. Were you scared? Ah, how cute!

Before he could say anything, your D.D.D chimed again and you turned your attention to your screen. A scowl quickly formed on your face, but even in the dim candlelight, he could see the affection in your eyes.

“That dummy…” You sat up and typed back a message to, undoubtedly, Mammon. Fighting to keep a smile off your face.

Instead of speaking, he looked away. What did Mammon have that brought you out of your shell? What could his annoying, loud, stupid older brother have that made you smile like that? And why didn’t you smile at him like that? Didn’t you see him? The Avatar of Lust! In nothing but a satin robe! All alone in your bedroom, and you were paying attention to Mammon?

Lust, and Greed… Even in the darkness, he was certain you could see the shimmer of sin in his eyes. But you didn’t look at him again. . . .

It was fifteen minutes now. Fifteen long, slow minutes until you would meet him. Flicking open his compact mirror, he studied the glittery eyeshadow he had dusted over his lids. It enhanced the natural draw of his eyes, which he hoped would keep your eyes on his. He understood, of course, that he didn’t have to impress you but he was still, well, he was still Asmo.

A little glitter, a little flirting, that was who he was! But you had shown him that wasn’t all he was. . . .

“Oh, Asmo! I’ve been looking for you.” He opened his eyes, and yawned. Maybe Belphie was onto something with these afternoon naps. You ran up to him, holding a basket of different flowers. “Hi, Hon. Don’t tell me you’re actually going to do that assignment?” By the looks of it, you were. Bits of dirt had stained the cuffs of your uniform, and you smelled like petrichor, earthy. Roots and stems stuck out of the woven basket as if you had stuffed it full.

“Uh, yeah. Of course I am.” You shook your head, not everyone could get away with handing in a premade bouquet like him.

The cultural exchange class, part of the new curriculum for the exchange program, had issued an assignment about flowers. More specifically, contrasting and comparing symbolism between the three realms flower languages and social history. He was excited at first, but after hearing that he was expected to grow and pick the flowers himself, he was out. Uh uh, he was not getting dirt under his nails

“Come on, it’s not so bad! Sol taught me a spell to instantly sprout and blossom these little guys.” You handed him the basket, which he daintily took. “Hm. I don’t see how that’s any better, but show me what you’ve got.” You grinned and sat beside him, watching him open the basket.

“These are Gypsophila, or baby’s breath. Narcissus-.” He giggled at that one. “Just listen okay!” He threw his hands up and nodded as you continued. “Otherwise known as daffodil. This one is Heliotrope.” He twirled it between his fingers, admiring the little blossoms you had grown. “So what do they mean?” He set them back and moved to give you back your basket. Instead, you gently set it in his lap. “You’re gonna have to figure that out yourself, Pretty boy.”

Pulling a thick tome, or… Gardening book, out of your school bag, you placed it among the flowers and smiled. Before he could protest, you bounded up to your feet, leaned over, and kissed his temple. He felt the warmth of your breath against his skin as you pulled back. “Oh! I-I…” His tongue fumbled over all the clever responses he was struggling to think of.

Tucking his hair back, you pulled a stem from your sleeve and placed it behind his ear. It was a small white flower, with not a speck of dirt on it. You had clearly spent the most effort on this one, preening the stem and leaves so it would rest comfortably in his hair.

His eyes widened and he stared at you, you were so close to him… His face felt hot and he didn’t try to speak again. “Alyssum.”

“What?” You giggled, and stepped back. “That one…” You nodded towards the blossom adorning his ear. “Is Alyssum. I think it suits you, and…” You paused, looking away. “Well, just read the book and do your homework!” Laughing, you ran off just as quickly as you had come. The sound rang out like bells, as you rounded the hedges and left. Asmodeus blinked, and finally breathed out.

Looking down at the basket and all the pretty flowers, he realised there wasn’t dirt on any of them. Each one, while not as pristine as the Alyssum, was preened and carefully selected so he could handle them without sullying his hands. You had grown them… For him? His hand covered his mouth, and he giggled softly. Picking up the book you had left him, he felt giddy to learn what each one meant. . . .

Ten minutes now. Ten minutes to ready himself, ten minutes until he could tell you he had gotten an ‘A’ on his assignment, and that he was so… Happy. Tears blurred his sight, and he wiped them away before they could ruin his makeup. The chatter of the crowds had faded out, the scorching heat and weight of all the eyes on him gone. His mind was spinning and he had to keep reminding himself to be patient. He would see you soon and he just couldn’t mess up the delicate bouquet he kept behind his back. Gosh, would you like them? Were they pretty enough for you? Would you… Would you understand?

Looking around anxiously, he stood on his tip toes and searched the crowds for you. He didn’t feel you, but maybe you would show up early? Maybe you wanted to see him sooner too?

Ever since he had made a pact with you, he felt elated. That piercing clarity, that cold beauty finally felt like it would last. You were Winter. Sharp, beautiful, and ephemeral in a way that made his heart ache.

The demon shook himself off, and took a deep breath. He would know when you were there.

He didn’t have many pacts, sure. Just two. His pact with Solomon was different, it felt like electricity. Like power that commanded attention the moment his little human master was anywhere near him. His mark felt like the tingle of static in the air before lightning struck, dangerous and seductive like all power was.

But you felt… Softer, or maybe more subtle. There was no doubt that you were strong, you could subdue him with an effortless, overwhelming force that not even Humanity's strongest sorcerer could command. There was elegance and mystery in your power, like you had a secret that he oh so very much wanted to unveil.

Asmo was pulled out of his thoughts by the feeling of frost forming in his mind.

Cold, invigorating winds rushed through him. A feeling of calm, serenity filled his chest. If he focused hard enough, he could feel the soft kiss of snowflakes on his face. His pact mark tingled and his skin raised like he had laid back into fresh snow. You were here.

Opening his eyes, he grinned and turned around. You waved and smiled at him. You were here early and he didn’t have time to give himself a once over before. Was his hair nice? Did his makeup run? Did you notice he was wearing your favourite colour?

“Hey, you’re here early!” He put on a charming, flirty smirk. “Did you want to see me sooner?” Tilting your head, you laughed and his heart stuttered. “Definitely.” Only you wouldn’t point out that he was there first.

With a quick, deep breath, he pulled the carefully arranged bouquet of Forget me nots and held them out to you. He had rehearsed all the things he wanted to say, all the words he could use to make you see him. Instead, like a little kid, he held a fistfull of flowers in front of his face and avoided your gaze.

Your eyes sparkled, like stars fallen from the sky. Glittering like snow beneath the moon. And he was left breathless, hands trembling as he felt the rush of a powerless yearning overtake him.

You took the bouquet, and he knew you understood.

[takieorie]

I can’t help but wonder….

Megatron x GN Bot Reader ish?

—

(Words 429 | In first person pov)

I knew it was too good to last. I remember you at your worst, pushing yourself to exhaustion, working the mines until you were on the verge of collapse.

Neither of us asked for this… yet here we are.

We were so close once. We trusted each other, confided in each other, loved each other. Those precious slivers of time we stole together, just to watch the sun dip below the horizon, those moments were everything.

But then, you began to change. I searched for you, wondering where the person I loved had gone. I could still hold you, still speak to you, but the words coming from your lips were no longer my lover’s. Your once soft voice hardened into a haunting melody that would echo through my dreams.

You no longer looked like you, thought like you… you were barely even there.

I pleaded to Primus for a sign, anything to show me that the one I loved was still there, waiting for me.

When you finally did call my name, for the first time in years, something in me stirred with hope. You stood tall before your soldiers, extending a hand towards me. Disbelief mingled with longing as I climbed the steps, reaching out to touch your hand, your once warm, familiar hand, as you drew me close.

It was like a dream, your lips so near to mine. But that’s all it was… a dream.

Reality crashed around me as you shouted, “No weaknesses.” One shot was all it took. I watched, numb, as pieces of my body lay scattered on the ground behind me. Your face held nothing but a smug satisfaction as you cast me down to your soldiers.

I couldn’t feel the pain, just the sight of your soldiers turning away, following you without a second glance.

—

I think back to that moment often. If it weren’t for Optimus, would I have died there? Would you have even looked back? I doubt it.

Now everyone, or those who have survived are stranded on Earth, a prisoner to your choices. But I will admit, the sunsets here are beautiful, just like those we once shared on Cybertron. I wonder, do you remember them? Do you even care?

I can’t help but wonder, in the cold silence of your heart……

do you still think of me?

—

[botslayer]

If the fire, sulfur, black iron, and devils every which way didn't give it away, both of us aren't in a place you want to be after you die. I'd offer you a drink but the only things they offer you usually came out of... Well. You. My own blood has a pretty good palete.

You don't have to panic. Not yet. You aren't dead, again, not yet. You're only here because everyone gets a fair warning. So change your ways, yadda yadda, find Christ, yadda yadda... Can you tell my heart isn't in it? Good. At least they'll vary up the torture for it. You get sick of eating hunks off of yourself and still being able to feel it the whole time.

Oh... You want to know what I did for that punishment? Well. It started when I was alive. I killed a man in self defense. Robber broke in, I shot him. And it was all down hill from there. I moved out to the woods after the third guy... Mostly because the best I could do there was plead manslaughter.

Anyway. I bought a plot of land not too far from a hiking trail, built a little shack. Turned it into quite the operation. I was a one-man Sawyer family. I had butcher knives, cleavers, cutting boards, sausage stuffers... I remember the first time I ate a man in those woods. The first woman was alright. I screwed up the spices for her liver, though. Live and learn. All in all? I musta got about twelve or thirteen hapless hikers where they needed to be. And I ate like a king for six years.

Why only six? Throw another skull on the fire and I'll tell you... Thank you. See. One night, another guy came traipsing up the path. Another lost and weary traveler. Two in one day, would you believe it? But winter was coming. So a quick stock up in the event of being snowed in was necessary. Problem was I was outside having a smoke and I was still draining the latest one. If he saw that there'd be no mistake what I was up to.

So here comes a seven foot slab of man. Treating the cold around him like it wasn't much of an issue. One thin hoodie over a thin T-shirt and some overalls. I took to a short conversation with him as I sized him up. He had about a foot of height on me and he was built. Big country, cornfed son of a bitch.

"Who're you?" "Who are you?" "Why are you on my property?" "You can own property this close to a hiking trail?" So on and so on... And then I asked if he knew how to get back to the trail. It was getting dark, you see. I offered to help him back if He'd just let me nab my hiking boots. He agreed and I tried to circle around him. I figured he would still be looking at my front door. Waiting like a big old dog.

But when I exited the side, butcher knife in hand, he was holding a woodcutter's axe. Still looking at the door though. I could tell his tool wasn't mine. Crazy bastard must have had it strapped to his back... I took the chance and leapt at him from the side. He shook me off but the fight forced the door to my cabin open and he got a good look at the woman on the hook. I had left the TV on and was listening to it as I smoked, lit her up enough to see.

I'll remember until eternity, when else is there to remember to down here? But I'll remember until eternity what he said after I got to my feet. "Well... This is awkward," and I think it was a joke. I don't know. But I couldn't help but laugh. "I suppose it is."

But we looked at each other... And we kept sizing each other up. I knew my chances of surviving a face-to-face fight with a bigger man with more reach were minimal... If I recall correctly, he didn't want to fight. "We don't have to do this. I could help you butcher if you want..." But I tell you no lie when I tell you meeting a kindred spirit. One so forceful. One so... Comparatively Jovial. I was in love. And love makes us all do crazy things.

The next few minutes for both of us was a game of hack-and-seek. And we were both it. I don't know if he felt the same, but I think we were both having fun slinking around my house and yard. It was a hell of a way to spend my last hour or so on Earth.

But he caught me. I rounded just the wrong corner and he had me by the scruff of my neck. His weapon, unwieldy as it was with a single hand gave me just the time I needed. I stabbed him in the throat just in time to feel the axe crack though my rib cage and split my heart. I died on top of him... I remember trying to kiss him but I don't think I got close enough to his chin.

And now I feel it is another punishment for me. To never see my darling Francis again... I take some solice knowing he hasn't seen me, either... Maybe it means he felt the same. Who can say?

... Your presence in this realm is fading... Well, your arm is translucent, that's usually a dead give away, no pun intended... Just remember. Change your ways. Or you might end up with a good view of what's happening to everyone else while what happens to you, whatever it is, goes on and on. And on. And on. And on. And on.

After successfully leading your next target to your murder-shed in the woods, they pull out an axe from themself and proclaim "oh, this is awkward."