#watch me becoming a supernova

[maatdraws]

sketch dump of those angel & demon that live rent free in my head

[cursedcola]

Prompt: "Will You Marry Me?" - Proposal Headcannons Characters: Everyone :) Part(s): Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore(Here!), Ignihyde, Diasomnia(Pt.1)(Pt.2) Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Warning(s): None. I mean, unless you don't want to marry any of them. Just don't read if that's the case. Note: May have overdone it. Also, I'm a bit rough with my french. It's been 2 years, go easy on me.

There is a word for this young man. A term that has always been a one-way thing in his past. A noun that he has experience being the target of, and not the one it is describing.

Whipped. Oh, dear heavens, Vil is whipped for you. The thought both entices him and sends a shiver of distaste down his spine. Why? Because, my dove, in recognizing that he is whipped he is also acknowledging that he is dependent. Reliant. No longer the boss a** queen who needs nobody other than himself. The man the world knows him to be but this schoolboy crush has progressed to borderline infatuation.

Let us do a little synopsis of this downfall. A summary, if you will. An exploration of this Schoenheit's thought process as his prospective future melded from being Twisted Wonderland's resident supernova, to a domestic fantasy that would make his past self vomit.

It all began with a little birdy falling into a nest of snakes. Lost, alone, scared, weak - they slowly melted the hearts of everyone they came in contact with. Vil watched from the sidelines in interest. Not enough to investigate because *why* would he place his time in the hands of prey. It would be an utter waste.

Albeit so...Vil recognizes potential when he sees it. Not unlike himself, they took the hand they were dealt and carved a path to the top. He could respect that ... until there was a collision that threatened his own plans. Suddenly their oddities were no longer amusing and instead a hindrance. Like rain. Nice at the start, but the muddy aftermath never pleases.

And muddy his life became indeed. He became the villain he always disliked. Wretched and old. Completed his self-fulfilling prophecy...and somehow lost it all, yet gained something new in such a short span of time. He was no hero in the story, had no life-changing epiphany, yet somehow it felt different. For a brief moment, he was the fairest of them all to that little birdy. Despite his venom and scales, he was the fairest.

It dawns him that they both are not as alike as he once thought. He was playing a game of chess against someone playing checkers.

The oddity turned hindrance now became an object of interest. He started to watch them again and to approach as well. He wanted to bloom the potential he saw in them. Letting it go to waste would be neglectful on his part, so he would shelter them during their time in this den.

Or so he told himself.

While they could never make it to his level...the little birdy was morphing into a beautiful dove right before his very eyes. All without his help or a need for change. He never felt so desperate to be needed by someone else.

The object of interest becomes an object of affection. He doesn't want to recommend new potions, fashion, workouts, skincare routines - he wants to do them with you. He wants to sit in a rosewater bath together and talk about the day. He wants to be chided for wearing a sleepmask, blocking your view of his eyes at night. He wants to go on a morning jog together and share breakfast. To have you on his arm as he walks the carpet at premiers - brighter than any other accessory his stylist could choose. He wants to kiss your pulse points and smell his perfume on your skin. He wants to share clothes and give the press something to gossip about. He wants to love this little birdy who has always been a dove.

And he gets this fantasy. He has it for years but there is always an underlying gnaw beneath his skin that it is going to end - which he is prepared for initially. He does not do anything half-effort and dating you is not taken lightly - but he is prepared until he does not want to be. Until the possibility of splitting up is unfathomable and he can't imagine not having all the little moments that now he has become so...

Reliant. Whipped.

He initially wants you to propose to him, and hints at it frequently. How glorious would he look dressed in white, no? Which do you like better, black forest cake or almond chip? Oh dear...these tulips would make such a lovely Boquete for a bride...

You are either too dense to understand his hints (unlikely, considering you have years of practice) or he needs to take initiative. Well, if it is a proposal you want then it is a proposal you will get.

He stages it under the guise that he needs a partner for a photoshoot. Specifically for a wedding magazine. You, thinking this is another one of his blatant hints, comply to his pleasure. He calls in a contact from one of the magazines he has modeled for before and asks if they would like an inclusive - never before seen- scoop. Aka. to photograph his proposal and feature it on their front cover. With his reputation, the offer is accepted readily and they agree to set up the shoot with whatever theme he wishes. He goes traditional - set in a gothic chapel that is decorated with red and purple floral adornments. The works for a proposal with a dark vintage twist.

That morning, he leaves before you to handle a separate modeling gig. With a kiss to your wrist, he is gone and off to make sure that everything is perfect for when you arrive later on. Photographers know him for his tenacity, but none have ever seen Vil so anal over small details. Every ribbon must be perfect, there must be both black AND white rose petals spread along the walkway. You must be photographed in rose-tinted lighting, so the camera should face towards the biggest piece of stained glass.

When you arrive, you are escorted to hair and makeup in a whirl. The scene is a blur and you're decked head to toe in white. Gothic lace as far as the eye can see...and when you are finally allowed to enter the chapel, Vil stands haloed by his arranged decorations - waiting for you to join him.

"Stunning, my dear. You look absolutely stunning. A sight I will have etched in my thoughts for many nights to come..." he takes your hand, and signals for the cameramen to get ready. They instruct you both to pose as a couple taking their vows. The camera clicks once, and then Vil gets down on one knee.

You think it's part of the act and that he is improvising. Well, until he pulls out a ring from his breast pocket. One that is a sharp contrast from the dark atmosphere and obviously not a prop.

"Alas, my patience runs dry. I can no longer wait for you..." he begins, and takes your hand in his. Another click echoes in the room, "with this ring, I make you mine. There will be no escape. No lies or uncertainties. I am already yours. I have been for many, many years. Will you finally join me in matrimony?"

{Black Opal. Staring into the gem puts any viewer in a trance. It sucks them in with bright swirls - hypnotizing. It is so beautiful with its intricate pattern, yet at a distance it appears solely black. We often narrow complex things down to one-note interpretations. Do with this information what you will}

Our man of mystery likes to keep things fresh. He loves the thrill of the chase. The anticipation. The adrenaline.

There is no better game of cat and mouse in life than romance. At every stage there are twists and turns that one can never predict. Each day brings new surprises and events! At least, that is what Rook believes a relationship should entail. No partnership should ever feel the lull of comfort...no-no. There must always be a little spice and sweetness around every corner to keep the relationship alive.

At your side, Rook does not doubt his beliefs for a second. You are like a magnet for attention and rightfully so. Out of all the people he finds interesting...you are the most tantalizing to observe. He finds himself following your every movement early on. Long before you began to enter his personal bubble, you were rare prey for the hunt. Otherworldly, full of secrets, attentive, attractive, enticing - he had his mark set so firm that he would have watched you even without Vil's order.

Nothing is missed under his fond scrutiny. Rook is the first to notice small things, like if you trimmed your hair or sewed new buttons on your blazer. He has your walking pace memorized to match when he is at your side. He knows your favorite meals in the dining hall, your habitual seat in the library, how to read your body language, what your favorite treats are and when you like to have them - his knowledge is so extensive that it's up to you if it is considered sweet or creepy. Rook's affections are often teetering the line with infatuation; however, he is not controlling or weird about it. He simply is a romantic who feels the need to know the ins and outs of the person he will give his heart to.

If that includes protecting you from ill-mannered heathens and appearing out of thin air to catch you if you trip? Well, best not question where he comes from. Just know that you have a second shadow. He will only become worse when his affections are returned. You may feel the need to set ground rules for how he can behave in public. Loud declarations of compliment and suggestive topics will not be reigned in otherwise. He is a lover and a fighter. Remember that.

There will come a day that Rook feels you are ready to marry him. Yes, specifically you. He was ready very early on, likely because pining for so long (while exciting) was a chase that gave him plenty of time to learn what he wants. Any time spent waiting was merely for your sake. Only when he notes your fondness towards the idea of marriage does he create a series of tests to ensure your desires. Things like leaving a wedding magazine on the counter to see your reaction, and taking you for a romantic boat ride that just so happens to be a hotspot for couples on their honeymoon. He also mentions the topic in his flirtations more often, to see if you'll respond in kind or shy away. He is a thorough man, if anything.

Oddly enough, he takes a reserved approach for proposing. He uses poetry, which is not unlike him considering how he loves to speak with flourishes. In his heart Rook would love to set up an elaborate event to propose. Something exciting, like a train mystery or a scavenger hunt. Yet some things do not need to be active to be thrilling. Marriage is a delicate act, so it is with a delicate hand that he pens a book of poetry over the course of nineteen days. On each day, he writes one poem to describe one reason he wants to marry you. The first letter in the title of each poem corresponds to a hidden message that you will have to decipher. He does not tell you either of these things.

He hands the book off to you with a cunning grin, and says that it is up to you to find the hidden meaning. If you can, then he will give you a 'special prize'. If you ask the occasion, he offers one of his closed-eye grins and claps his hands. 'Because why not?' He'll say, and it's enough to pacify because it is such a Rook way of thinking that you don't question it.

No matter how long it takes, he waits. He'll watch you analyze each poem and pout for an answer - one he refuses to give. It's all in the chase, after all. He can be patient. All good things come to those who wait.

One cold afternoon, he finds you curled up on the couch in your shared home. A blanket around your shoulders, a hot drink, and the book nestled in your lap. Nothing out of the usual...aside from the pen in your hand hovering over a notebook. Silent as a mouse, he hovers over your shoulder to take a peek and smirks at what has you so miffed.

"Ah...I take it you have words for me, mon coeur. Are they perhaps about a certain mystery?" You jump, and slam the notebook shut before turning around. His eyes crinkle in delight at the sight - his well waited prize. The flush of your cheeks suggest you solved the puzzle and the sweat on your brow shows that you know he knows. Rook rounds about the couch in an instant and crouches on his knees in front of you. He takes your notebook, opens it, and displays the words 'Will You Marry Me?' for you. "Is this your answer? Are you confident?" You nod, avoiding his eyes and he grabs your chin to face him. With a hum of approval, he tips off his hat to pull out a wooden box. In the box is a ring, and he effortlessly slips it onto your finger without asking permission. "Mon moitié...mon trésor. Je te chérirai. Je t'aimerai. Je ne te laisserai jamais partir. Avec cette bague, je suis à toi jusqu'à ce que la mort nous sépare…"

{A large pearl, nested between two emeralds, and a pure gold band. In Rook's eyes, the ring should compliment the wearer. It is the accent piece to your beauty. It should be comfortable, so you never have reason to remove it. In addition to this, it should also serve as a reminder that he is always looking for you. The pearl represents his untainted affection, and the two emeralds are his all-seeing eyes. He hopes this ring brings feelings of comfort and safety}

He is beauty, he is grace, he will punch you in the face - unless you're the object of his affections. Then you get a get out of jail free card. One use. Reinstated every time his heart skips a beat.

Our young lad is a bit of an unpredictable case when it comes to his emotions. Growing up in a small town like Harveston, there was no one his age to spend time with. NRC became his first exposure to people his age, and that made you his first love by default. He wasn't looking for it, didn't have any way to identify it, and frankly he disliked the emotions at first for various reasons. There is a lot to unpack here.

As everyone knows, Epel has a feminine appearance. The exact opposite of how he feels inside. The frilly clothes his dorm makes him wear do nothing to fix that - and now there is this tingling feeling in his chest that takes away his thought process? No. Just no. Not welcome at all. He needs his wits to make up for his unassuming appearance, and he ain't going to have some stranger twisting that about just because they're a bit attractive. Every apple tastes sweet until you try another kind - he says to himself.

He lets it fester for some time and actively avoids you. He sees the hurt in your eyes at his offput demeanor, but can't do much about it. It's your fault if you want to put yourself out there when everyone knows he's not the biggest talker.

Unfortunately...you stick around. Being in his academic year means that most of your classes align, and eventually your friend group does as well. There is no getting around you, and it doesn't take long for other people to connect the dots. Any chance at him getting a tougher reputation were ruined before they even began.

Eventually his resilience runs out and he gives in. Except now we have reason two - he has no chance with you. Zip. Nada. How Lovely.

Why the h*ll would ya go for this country bumpkin with the social skills of a rock? You'd be crazy to an' he ain't going to put himself out for heartbreak.

Now he's stuck humming love tunes and making carved apples of your face because he has years of pining built up with no outlet. It's pitiable, which makes him seethe because he can't do nothin' about it. Rook teased him once after finding Epel making yet another carving while laying in bed, and barely missed getting an apple to the head. The splattered remains of his fruit art on the wall spoke more than any threat could.

Point being, he is emotionally stunted and so he does not ever confess. Not until you do, that is. In that moment all class flew out of his body and he reverted to the socially challenged boy he was before enrolling at NRC. An extremely rare sight for anyone to see...he cringes thinking back on it. When you first said your feelings, he thought you were pulling a prank and got pissed. When he processed that you were serious, Epel lost control of himself and just blurted his thoughts out like a child.

Which is why his proposal is going to be different. It *has* to be different. This time, he'll be the one to ask you and he'll be prepared to avoid any mess ups. He refuses to be one-upped for such an important moment. This time you will be the flustered mess, and he will be the collected one.

To do this, he chooses to propose back in Harveston where he is most in his element. You'll both stay with his family on a weekend vacation in autumn, which meant there would be plenty of open land to arrange for something nice. Not to mention nice scenery from all the fallen leaves and orchards being in bloom. After a long talk with his family, he'd arrange to take you on a day tour of the land on horseback. Basically flaunt all of his farmboy knowledge for a confidence boost, and at the end of the night he'd light a campfire. With some warm cider, the noises of the night, and calm warmth of the hearth - he'd propose. It was almost perfect. *Almost*.

A simple ring feels too disconnected for Epel, and anything extravagant is too expensive considering the family farm's financial state. So, he decides to make it extra special by carving the ring box himself. Wood isn't that much different than apples...

On the first night he decides to work on some finishing touches after you've gone to sleep, and sits on the front porch to widdle away at the design. Like he does when carving apples, he hums a tune into the night as he focuses. Thoughts of the next day making him a bit louder and more excitable than usual - which, unfortunately wakes you up.

The front door opens and he pays it no heed, thinking it's one of his parents coming out for some fresh air. When you plop down next to him and look at the box - well, to say the earth shattered would be an understatement.

"Why aren't you sleepin'?!" His heart hammers and he tries to hide the box under one of his legs. The reaction being too late, since you already got a good look at it. You quirk an eyebrow at his haste, and a mischievous glint twists in your eye. Without warning, you fight him to see what's behind his back. 'What'cha got there Epel~ Why you so embarased huhu~' you tease and his ears flush a deep red. "It's nothin'! Mind your own buisness" 'Well clearly it's something' "I said it's not for you! Get your hands off me," 'Oh? I thought you liked my hands on you~ It looked like a ring box though. Who're you giving a ring to, huh?' "Dangit maybe you'd find out if ya stopped ruining your own surprises!" In his last attempt to avoid your teasing, he tries to yank away but drops the box. It hits the porch with a thud and the lid pops open to show an engagement ring. "...ah sh*t," he swears and hastily crouches to pick it up. You don't tear your eyes away from it, neither from the carvings or how your name is etched in perfect cursive on the lid. Still on his knee, Epel checks the ring for damage before noticing your shocked stupor. He looks at the box again, and signs through his nose before turning towards you. "I had a whole day planned, y'hear me?! For once, I wanted ta be the one surprisin' you...but seein' how you're all tight lipped now, guess I did a good, huh? So? What'dya say? Will you marry me?"

{Crafted using the common hardwood from one of the many apple trees on the family farm. On the outside, there is a carving of a tree taking roots to symbolize the start of a new life. Definitely not because he was surrounded by trees while working on it, and decided to use them for inspiration. When the box is open, the top lid has your names carved along with the date. Well, the date of his *intended* proposal. That will need to be altered. Inside is a simple rose-gold band with small diamonds. Despite the ring's simplicity, he hopes his efforts to make you feel special are not in vain}

NOTE: Translation for Rook: "I will cherish you. I will love you. I'll never let you go. With this ring, I'm yours till death do us part"

[littlexdeaths]

ꜱʏᴍᴘᴀᴛʜʏ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴠɪʟ - ᴇ.ᴍ.

demon kas x human eddie x fem hunter (supernatural au)

i found god, i found him in a lover.

when his hair falls in his face, and his hands so cold they shake…

i found the devil, i found him in a lover.

and his lips like tangerines, and his color coded speak…

warnings: 18+ ONLY MDNI! established relationship, hate fucking, oral (fem receiving), unprotected piv sex, cream pie, mentions of blood, anything italicized is eddie’s inner dialogue to kas

word count: 3k

a/n: it’s me back again with another repost of an old fic. i also want to give a big shout out to my darling @undead-supernova for helping me edit multiple parts this fic. ily august 💕

You knew he was here.

From the smell of sulfur lingering in the air, to the heavy presence in the room. Your skills as a hunter were too great, you knew he couldn’t have led you astray.

But maybe he wanted you to find him.

This cat and mouse game you’ve been playing for months was just a little too exciting for him to give up. You should’ve been scared, your instincts told you to be. But hearing his husky voice cut through the darkness of the abandoned warehouse made your heart skip a beat.

“Nice to see you again, sweetheart…”

You couldn’t tell where he was yet, still using the cover of the night to shield himself from you. You clutch your bottle of holy water closer to your side as his chuckle bounced off the walls. “You’ve tried that before, it didn't work out so well last time. Did it, pet?”

He was getting closer, you could tell by the way your hair stood up on end. Squaring your shoulders as he finally steps out into the moonlight. The sight makes you freeze, your eyes widening in disbelief. Kas looked different from the last time you had seen him.

He had taken on a new vessel, one that had become quite familiar to you.

Eddie Munson, a bartender you had met at a place called the Hideout. After you’d stumbled inside the rundown bar for a drink after finishing a grueling hunt somewhere in Indiana.

He was sweet, and you both needed to let off some steam. So you took him back to your motel room for the night… and the night after that. The male had made you feel things no one else ever could. So you kept finding yourself going back to that shitty town to see him. Where he was always waiting with that charming smile and a rum and coke.

But now guilt riddled your chest as his once chocolate hues were a stark onyx, Eddie was long gone.

The demon in front of you smirks, eyes watching you in amusement as the recognition crossed over your features.

This was your fault, you put him in harm's way. You had been told time and again not to let yourself be involved with non-hunters. Regular folk. It would put them at risk, not knowing about the things that go bump in the night.

But demons were especially dangerous, they didn’t need consent to take over someone’s body. The only reason you were protected was due to the dark ink that swirled over your hip bone.

Kas takes a step toward you, causing you to take one step back in return. This only made that smirk widen as another chuckle slipped past his lips.

Lips that had been on you too many times to count.

“He thinks about you a lot, you know… wanted you to stay with him so many times.” The demon hums condescendingly, the implication behind his words makes your heart stutter in your chest.

Coming to the realization that you could never have that happy ending now, not with him, or anyone.

After crossing paths so many times, you knew how malicious the demon standing before you could be. Even if you were able to banish him back to hell, Eddie wouldn't be able to return to a normal life.

Once that veil between those worlds is lifted, there’s no way to undo the damage it causes. You’ve seen it more times than you can count.

“A little pathetic, really…” Kas continues as he advances on you slowly, backing you further into a corner.

Your emotions are clouding your reasoning, allowing the demon to continue to close in on you. It shouldn’t be affecting you like this, but as much as you tried to convince yourself otherwise… you knew one thing was true. You had fallen for the metalhead.

And now you’d never get him back.

“But don’t worry, sweetness— he’s still in here with me,” as he speaks you feel your back connect with the cool concrete, the male now caging you against it.

His body felt warm against yours, a juxtaposition to the cold seeping into your back. His familiar scent of citrus and tobacco engulfs your senses completely, bringing you back to the last time you saw each other. Your limbs were tangled together as you lay in a post sex haze. His lazy smile made your skin tingle, finding yourself tracing over the faded tattoos on his chest.

From the flash in his dark eyes you knew he was reliving a memory of Eddie’s, if not the same one.

His calloused fingers begin to trail across your neck, unintentionally allowing yourself to lean into the graze of his fingertips. Despite how your mind screams at you to push him away, your body continues to betray you. Kas can’t help but notice how your skin heats under his touch, how your thighs squeeze together. It amuses him more than you’ll ever know.

“Don’t touch me,” you mutter, wishing your words held much more malice than they do. The slight shake in your voice causes another dark chuckle to spill past his plump lips. Mocking you.

The demon leans further into your space, those damned lips grazing over your collarbone. The feeling causes you to shiver as goosebumps break out across your skin. Kas continues to leave hot, open mouthed kisses along your throat. The feelings of fear, anger and arousal mixing together— making your head spin.

“You can deny that you want this with your words all you want sweetheart, but I see the way your body reacts to this vessel.” He taunts, letting his teeth nip at your tender flesh.

“I feel those goosebumps on your skin, the way you shiver under his touch, and… I can smell you.” Kas growls, his teeth sinking roughly into your skin.

A slight whimper leaves your lips as you attempt to push him away. But it’s too late— he has the upper hand now.

His fingers lace themselves into your hair and tug, exposing more of your neck to him. He licks a stripe up your throat to your ear, taking the lobe between his teeth.

“I can feel how bad he wants you too, you know. The way he reacts to your body… you have no idea how much he wants to feel you again.”

Your eyes widen in shock as the demon presses his hips into yours, feeling how hard he was through the fabric of his jeans.

Get the fuck off her asshole, she’s mine!

Kas chuckles again, pulling back slightly as his hands continue to wander down your body. There’s a flash of something in those onyx hues, leaving you to wonder what hidden joke you’re missing out on.

“Your little boy toy isn’t very happy with me, sweetheart… he doesn’t want to share. How selfish of him,” he feigns a pout, leaning forward as his nose glides along your jaw.

I’m warning you, dickhead.

His deep chuckle fills the silence once more as his large hands grip onto your hips, “Isn’t he selfish, pet?”

“Fuck you,” you spit back, shoving him away but only momentarily. His hands quickly return to the curve of your waist, pulling you flush against his chest.

That spark of defiance returns, which only makes the demon grin wider. His hold on your hips becomes harsher, the metal of his rings biting into the skin there.

“Hmm… with pleasure, darling.” His lips hover over yours as his sweet breath fans across your face. There’s a moment when those black hues slowly start to fade, the brown of Eddie’s returning.

Seeing that flicker of him, the man you had desperately fallen for— is what finally breaks your resolve.

Closing that short distance between you and angrily smashing your lips against his. He moans into your mouth, his hands hooking under your thighs to lift you. Trapping you further against the wall as he grinds his pelvis into yours.

You don’t know where Kas starts and Eddie ends, but you can’t find it in yourself to care.

The kiss is angry, all tongue and teeth viciously clashing together. There’s still a small part of you that’s begging you to get away, that this was wrong. But your body has taken over control, that little voice fading with each press of his lips against yours.

His tongue glides along your lower lip, begging for entry you weren’t yet willing to give. The male doesn’t give up that easily though, his hands roaming over the curve of your ass and squeezing.

The action takes you by surprise, the small gasp you let out allowing him to slip inside. Kas groans as he sucks your tongue into his mouth, before setting you back on your feet. He pins your hips against the rough concrete as he kneels before you.

The demon eagerly buries his face in between your thighs as he inhales deeply, “I need to know if this pussy tastes as sweet as it smells.”

You’re stunned into silence as he reaches to quickly unbutton your jeans. Finding yourself all too eager to aid him in sliding the denim and lace down your legs. Stepping out of the fabric as Kas tosses them somewhere in the dark of the warehouse.

The brunette doesn’t waste another moment before his tongue is licking a fat stripe up your slit, forcing your thighs apart in his strong hands. Your fingers lace themselves in his wild curls, tugging harshly as you feel his tongue dip inside your entrance. His growl vibrates against your core, nose nudging your bundle of nerves in a way that has your legs trembling in his grasp.

“Hmm, even better than his memories…” you nearly miss his admission over your soft whines, but you don’t have time to dwell on it.

Kas eagerly replaces his tongue with his fingers as the muscle swirls up and around your swollen bud. Your head is swimming, his actions bringing you that much closer to the edge. The male enjoys the way you grind yourself harder onto his tongue as your grip on his hair tightens. Feeling the way your walls flutter around his fingers only encourages him to pick up the pace.

While your eyes have slipped shut, his are wide open. The stormy irises commit each pleasurable expression that flits across your face to memory— to both of their memories.

The almost inhuman speed of his fingers and the firm pressure of his tongue finally pushes you over the edge. As your loud cries echo throughout the empty warehouse. You attempt to push his head away, but his lips don’t leave your body. Instead he trails them down your thighs, smearing your slick across your skin.

You curse softly before dropping to your knees, pushing him backwards. He is surprised by your sudden dominance, but allows you to lay him back on the dirty ground. Your hands fumble with his belt, pulling the zipper down with an urgency you had never seen from yourself before. It makes him chuckle, as you greedily shove his pants down to his knees.

“If you were that needy for our cock you could’ve just said so, sweetness.” He grins devilishly as your hands reach for the elastic of his boxers.

Mine, not yours…

Your eyes flick up to meet his, the smirk plastered on his lips fuels your irritation further.

“Shut the fuck up, Kas.” You say between gritted teeth, pulling his hard cock out from the confines of his boxers as he stifled a moan.

Fuck, that’s my girl…

You don’t give him much warning before you’re straddling his hips, sinking down onto his full length with a whimper. It didn’t matter how many times you had taken him to bed, you were still in awe of just how well he filled you up. You could feel every vein and ridge of his cock, caressing your inner walls in a way no other man could.

It was addictive, a slice of heaven you never wanted to lose.

The male grips your hips tightly, guiding them as he rocks his own up against yours. He’s groaning beneath you, dark eyes watching the space where your bodies are connecting with almost… fascination. A creamy ring has formed around the base of his cock as you continue to ride him. You let your nails dig into his clothed chest with a satisfied whine, your head falling back as you take him deeper.

She really is an angel…

The demon doesn’t seem pleased with your languid pace any longer as he abruptly flips you both over. The movement knocks the wind from your lungs. Kas grins down at you, his teeth gleaming in the moonlight that has filtered in through a broken window. His large hands hold you firmly in place as he begins slamming into your cervix. Causing your back to arch off the grimy floor, your shirt riding up in the process.

The sounds of your bodies connecting fill the once eerie silence of the night. His eyes rake over your newly exposed skin, pushing the material further up your torso. His calloused fingers trace over the ink splayed across your hip with a dark look.

“This little mark might protect your soul, but it’s not going to protect your body.” He grunts as he continues to slam his hips harder into yours, “Not from me. Or him.”

You don’t answer, instead grabbing a fist full of his hair and smashing your mouths together. He kisses you back just as roughly, teeth catching your lower lip hard enough to draw blood. The familiar taste of his saliva mixes with a harsh metallic flavor. The taste of you on his tongue only fuels the fire raging inside you. The male sucks your bleeding lip in between his.

Kas grabs your shaky legs, wrapping them around his waist to join you closer together. A gasp escapes your lips as he hits that sweet spot inside you, causing your eyes to roll back. The demon groans as he feels you pulse around his cock, trailing his lips over your jaw. The mixture of his spit and your own blood smearing across your skin.

“No wonder he can’t stop thinking about you,” his words are spoken so softly you almost don’t catch them.

Pride blooms in your chest as a small smirk graces your features, but it’s wiped away just as quickly. His hips pound into yours even faster, leaving any snarky comment to die on your lips. Instead a pleasurable cry pierces the air as your nails drag across his back.

You can feel your orgasm building with each deep stroke of his cock, filling you to the brim. His lips suck onto the base of your throat, his breath coming out in short pants as you tighten around him more.

“That’s it, angel. It's okay, I’m here.”

Your eyes that had previously fluttered shut, now snap back open. Coaxing his face up from the crook of your neck. No one ever called you that but Eddie, not even Kas.

Your eyes meet his brown ones, letting his hips slow their pace. That signature dimple indents his cheek when he smiles down at you, tears blurring your vision. You quickly blink them away to see him more clearly. Eddie leans down, gently kissing away the moisture that has stained your cheeks.

He wraps you in his arms, pulling you up and into his lap. The new position only buries him deeper inside you, allowing the pleasure to wash over you completely. Your body trembles in his embrace as you rest your forehead against his.

“Eddie,” you moan, grinding yourself harder onto his cock as he holds you close.

His touch is much softer as his hands reach out to caress every inch of you. While he still has control over his own body. Allowing himself to soak in every moment before he’s ripped away from you again. But between your pretty cries and his husky groans, neither of you will be lasting much longer.

“I’ve got you, angel… come for me.” The promise of safety in his voice makes your heart flutter in your chest.

Feeling his fingers encircle over your sensitive nub, he gives you one more hard thrust before you finally fall apart. A breathy cry of his name tumbles from your lips as you feel him twitch inside you. Your body melts further against him, an attempt to keep him here with you. Despite knowing the reality that was soon to come.

“Fuck… I love you. I love you.” He sounds desperate as he mutters the words against your temple.

In your blissful state you don’t notice the black haze beginning to overtake his irises. His words ring in your ears as you feel him spill inside you. Not stopping the movement of his hips as he fucks his essence deeper inside you. Letting your head fall into the crook of his neck as you mumble those three words back into his flushed skin. His comforting scent washes over you as you attempt to catch your breath.

“Well wasn’t that just so sweet,” your body stiffens in his embrace, his deep chuckle snapping you out of the sweet cocoon you were just in.

You quickly scramble out of his lap in an effort to detach yourself from him. His previously comforting touch now sets your skin ablaze, as if he had burned you. You can feel the mixture of your arousal dripping down your thighs as you hurry to find your discarded clothes in the dark.

In your frenzied state, you don’t hear him approaching until he’s right behind you. His ringed fingers dig into the curve of your waist as you bend over to retrieve your jeans. His hips flush against your ass, the metal on his belt pressing into your bare skin. His hand reaches around to dip in between your thighs, collecting some of the mess you both made.

Kas eagerly sucks the digits into his mouth with a moan, before you feel the warmth of his body disappear.

“We’ll be seeing you soon, sweetheart… you can count on that.”

Is the the last thing you hear as he slips into the still of the night.

[bunniehrtz]

RED WINE SUPERNOVA

cowboy!sevika heard you like magic. she’s got a wand…and that’s it

“whatcha got there?” you ask, looking up at sevika, confused. she stands before you, at the foot of your bed, her hands behind her back. she shuffles on her feet, rocking back and forth, a faux innocence plastered on her face.

“guess,” sevika replies, ever so smugly. she furrows her eyebrows at the roll of your eyes, watching you lay down on her pillow.

“could literally be anything. just show me,” you smirk, picking your head back up to watch her.

sevika brings her hands around, showing you a box containing a pink wand vibrator.

“you’re kidding,” you say in a whisper, hiding your warming cheeks in your hands.

“you wanna try it out?”

“oh- fuck!” your screams of pleasure echo throughout the house. you worry about being heard by your neighbours, possibly the whole street. these thoughts are immediately wiped away by the buzz and vibrations of the toy being placed delicately on your weeping, engorged clit.

“how’s that, darlin? how’s that feel?” sevika whispers, biting down on her bottom lip as she pushes the toy ever so slightly further into your sex. her eyes darken at the sight of your back arching off the mattress, your legs lifting up to wrap around her waist. she sits between your legs, her left hand holding onto your thigh, the other holding the handle of the toy.

“god- fuck! sev!” you shriek, hiding your warmed, sweating face in the crook of her neck, your teeth sinking into the flesh. she takes this as it feels good.

“oh, i know, baby. just feels so good. aren’t you happy i got this for us?” she teases, biting back a laugh at your quick nods and whimpers muffled by her own skin.

“yes- thank you! thank you, sev- fuck!” you manage to spit out, in between screeches of pleasure.

“atta girl. always usin’ those manners,” she shakes her head happily, moving her hand from your thigh to your waist, pushing you back to lay against the bed.

between heavy breaths, you claw at sevika’s back and say, “more, please!”

“gotta tell me more than that, baby. you want my fingers?” sevika smiles down at you, her left hand trailing down your stomach to your cunt, her hand placed delicately at your entrance. you nod feverishly, bucking and grinding your hips forwardly at sevika.

you plead softly, whispers of please, please, please leave your mouth as you feel sev push her index and middle fingers inside, her mouth watering at the way your body reacts to her touch, the way your knees shake, the way your back arches off of the mattress, the way you clench around her fingers. sevika tries to take it all in, but your screams of satisfaction pull her back into reality.

sevika knows your body well, she knows what makes you tick, how to get you close. she feels your sex become tighter, your abdomen tensing, your legs spread further and she knows. she leans over to place soft kisses on your thighs, subtly turning the toy to the highest setting.

“know you’re close, baby. come on, cum on my fingers, darlin,” sevika whispers into your thigh, pushing you over the edge. your sight goes fuzzy, the band in your stomach snapping as you feel yourself let go.

“oh, my girl. my good, beautiful girl. my best girl,” sevika whispers, pressing kisses from your thighs to your stomach, from your stomach to your breasts, from your breasts to your chest, up to your neck. she lands slow, open mouthed kisses to your neck, in that sweet spot she knows so well. you whimper softly at the feeling, lifting your hands to her hair.

sevika looks up into your glazed over eyes, sitting up to place a kiss on your swollen lips. you lengthen the kiss by swiping your tongue over her bottom lip, her mouth opening immediately in response. you hear a whisper, a whine, and a..click?

“sevika! fuck! can you turn that off?”

[wwaheoh]

“What do the cold hands of Fate fear the most in the Universe? The fiery indomitable spirit of Humanity.” HSR x gnReader

Firefly, Himeko, Jing Yuan (+ Yanqing)

a/n: Starman by David Bowie type shit

Rip and tear. A dwindling defense against a relentless offense. Bugs, in the billions, cascading down towards Glammoth, all with the intent to devor. Her muscles screamed, the armor she was in began to grow heavier each minute, a metal coffin awaiting the moment her body gave up on her.

But she would not- could not let this happen. As part of the Iron Calvary, she had met someone she sparked a sense of wonder, of the uniqueness of each and every person. Someone she wanted to defend. Of course, this relationship was difficult to manage, with all of them having been born as nothing more than to fill the ranks and fight for their Empress. But there were times where the two of you could spend time together, really feel like people instead of the bred soldiers you were. Emotions that others in the Iron Cavalry knew not of bloomed between the two of you. 

The day the Swarm had come to their planet had been the day she intended to speak to you about these feelings she had, during the small breaks they had. She didn’t even know what to say, the words and their meaning never having been taught to her. 

So as she fought, all she could think about was you, the Empress barely even holding a space in her mind. Yet as she watched the suits of metal fall from the sky, it dawned on her that she might never be able to tell you anything. Tearing through the bodies as she rocketed forward, carnage raged around her, blood, guts, and fire being blown everywhere as panic fueled adrenaline.

Then the Swarm Mother appeared. And alll hell broke loose.

In her peripheral vision, a bright light appeared. Turning, she realized that it was yours. The two of you had played with the idea of decorating the suits- being reprimanded when attempted. But some super specific damages could be overlooked.

You exploded forward with a speed that left a sonic boom behind. Fire exploded as you bulldozed your way through the Swarm, leaving a trail of destruction through the army. Going straight for the Mother.

You exploded, with enough power to detonate stars, a beautiful supernova. 

Firefly screams, muscles seemingly revitalized with a feeling she’s never felt. Born to be a soldier, emotions taught to be kept down to keep a level head. All of it is thrown out the window as she charges forward into the regenerating mass. 

The smoke begins to clear, the Swarm Mother seemingly unaffected by what you had done.

It fills her with a rage that burns deep into her core.

Tearing through, she aims at the Swarm Mother, filling this blast with all of the power left in the mech, firing. 

A bright light overtakes her vision, white is all she sees before it goes to black.

-

Firefly sits by the window of the ship, watching the stars slowly pass by, one of the lessening times her body is able to be outside of stasis without suffering repercussions. An odd feeling stirring in her chest, bits of memories leaking from the box she locked them in, too much to bear.

Silver Wolf is running some maintenance on the mech. As the resident tech support of the Stellaron Hunters, it's become her job to make sure the mech known as “SAM” is in top shape.

beep… beep… Beep… Beep. BEEP… BEEP

What starts off barely audible begins to screech, the navigation system begins to go wild. Silver Wolf looks towards Firefly, who was broken from her thinking and now staring with wide eyes at the sound. 

“What’s that?”

Firefly quickly rushed to the mech, nearly tripping over herself as she hit a series of buttons, prompting a green holographic map to shine. A small red dot currently hurling itself at nearly 43,000/mph through the vastness of space. A red dot that symbolized a mech suit just like hers, another survivor…

“We have to recover it- it’s another one like me!” She exclaimed as she rushed to tell Kafka and get the ship to follow the projected path. 

Quickly the ship began to move faster, slipping off course and diverting its route to intercept the mecha. 

After several tense minutes, the ship was successfully able to slow the object down and reign it into the ship.

It was a giant piece of rock, yet something inside told her that it held something deep within. The frequency that had been discovered wasn’t something that could be made from an asteroid or piece of space junk.

Clearing everyone from the room, she entered her mech, charging it up to live with a flare of green, before slamming her fist down onto the rock and breaking it in half.

Inside was a damaged mecha, another Fyrefly Type-IV Strategic Assault Mech. Damaged, with battle damage all over. Metal melted and melding into other parts. It slowly creaked open, a body, with a face she never thought she’d see again falling out and onto the cold surface.

It was you…  the soft motion of your chest rising and falling told her that you were atleast alive.

Breaking from her stupor, she quickly screamed, “K-Kafka!” Said person quickly barged into the room, Blade and Silver Wolf ready, guns and blade in hands before quickly realizing what was happening. “We need to get them to my pod!”

They did just that, pulling your body into Firefly’s pod, stabilizing your vitals and checking for the sickness that ailed all of the Iron Calvary’s soldiers. It was there, but had been slowed to an insane rate as you had basically been ambered.

-

After several hours passed, you had finally awoken. Panicking at first before Firefly, who had been waiting by your pod-side, helped calm you down. Finally stable and conscious, they started the procedure to let you out: draining the fluids, unhooking you, taking out the IV, and taking off the oxygen mask. 

They allowed you some privacy to put on some clothes, pulling a white curtain around you with some spare clothes ready for you. 

After what seemed like forever to Firefly, you walked out of the room. A sense of dread as she proposed the question, “Do you remember me?”

An uncomfortable silence fell, with the other Stellaron Hunters trying but failing to not show that they were very blatantly eavesdropping on the two with bated breaths.

Finally you respond with affirmation, you do remember her. You remember them. You remember that hail-mary effort to take down the Swarm, intending to sacrifice yourself in order to bring down the Swarm Mother and give a chance to the Iron Cavalry- to her.

She rushes in to embrace you, with you opening your arms as she launches onto you. “Well, I’m called Firefly now…” “It’s… nice to meet you Firefly.” The name feels weird on your tongue, the two of you only having been designated with numbers rather than anything meaningful. But as you play with it, it feels right. 

Fyreflies, small little things that shone beautifully in the night. A future, together, that shone as well.

A beautiful sunset began to fall on this planet’s horizon, a warm orange transitioned into a deep purple. Stars twinkling in the evening sky.

It was you and Himeko, a cup of coffee in both your hands. The two of you were sitting on the porch of a home the two of you purchased. It wasn’t somewhere the two of you lived year-round, coming only for a couple weeks to relax from all the trailblazing the Astral Express got up to. It was quaint, overlooking a beautiful environment.

Taking a small sip of the coffee, you held in spitting it out- yup, still incredibly strong. Himeko laughed softly, admiring the fact that you still attempted to build up a resistance to the taste over the years. A beautiful thing to hear, never losing its novelty no matter how many times you heard it.

This was all so perfect…

“This isn’t real, is it?”

“No, dear.”

Even in a fake world, Himeko was so incredibly intelligent, probably having even figured it out before you did. 

“We didn’t win against Sunday?”

“No, everyone in Penacony is currently under the control of the Order.” She nursed her cup of coffee on her lap.

“Well then… I guess this is goodbye. I’ll see you in the real world.”

You leaned forward, kissing her on the cheek before setting down the cup of coffee and standing up. 

“I’ll see you too dear.”

You readied yourself, tensing the muscles in your arm as you pulled your arm back, righting your feet before swinging forward. A crack formed in existence, another swing, it expanded. Several more impacts before finally, the world exploded in white.

-

Alongside the rest of the Astral Express, all six of you readied your weapons, as the giant behemoth of a golden conductor leaned over the group.

Now it was time to reach the truth, in the Waking World…

Waves and waves of Mara-Struck, soldiers under your command, fallen and changed into these walking dolls for the Abundance to control. They begged for the sweet release of death, pleading for it all to be over. Apologizing over and over, begging for forgiveness as their bodies became prisons, as they attacked those that they swore to protect.

The last contact they had with your squadron was three hours ago. An outbreak of Mara-Struck caused by chemicals planted in the drinking water. The scientist had been apprehended already, but the effects were still being felt hours after. 

Jing Yuan paced in his room, awaiting further updates. You, his betrothed, was a respected commander, even with his hand in marriage you refused to become complacent, continuing your training and leadership on the battlefield. Yanqing was just returning from his mission, having been the one to find the source of the contaminant and lock up those involved in spreading it. 

“General, I have returned.” Yanqing greeted as he closed the door behind him, before quietly asking about your whereabouts, having not seen you. “They did not return with you? The last they told us, they’d be regrouping with you.” Jing Yuan questioned, a slight panic beginning to settle into his otherwise calm and lazy demeanor. “No sir, they didn’t relay such to me… last I heard they were clearing out the Mara-Stricken.” 

“And why was I not informed of their prolonged absence?” “I don’t know, general.” “It seems others are keeping vital information out of my hands. I’ll deal with it later, come, we must ensure the safety of them.” “Yes General!”

The two didn’t want to think of the possibilities, what might have happened to you in these few hours that you were dark. They weren’t arm-chair philosophers but men of action.

Stepping out, they marched out of the Seat of Divine Foresight, people instinctively moving out of their way. Yet one did, a newly instated assistant, one who was quiet but as they babbled on about how Jing Yuan shouldn’t leave, he knew why they truly were there. Nodding with a polite smile, he acknowledged their words before turning and continuing his march, signaling to a nearby Fu Xuan about the “assistant”. 

A group of guards quickly apprehended them as Jing Yuan and Yanqing left in search of you.  

-

Their first stop was your final ping before you went dark. Upon entering the area, the smell of bark and scent of iron filled their noses. Corpses were strewn about, mara-stricken and normal alike. None have the insignia of a Captain. 

Following the carnage, they begin to hear sounds of metal on metal, grunts, shrieks. Quickly hurrying, they turn the corner to see you, covered in blood and sweat, and a mob of mara-stricken soldiers surrounding you.

Quickly they rush in, with the power of the General of the Xianzhou Luofu and his Retainer, they carve a path through and quickly pull you from the center. With you out of the danger zone, Yanqing summons several blades, slashing at the horde with killing intent, slicing them in half as the blades whizzes through them.

As the Retainer takes out the horde, Jing Yuan turns to you, apologetic, “I’m so sorry, your whereabouts were hidden from me. I came as soon as I could.”

Still shell-shocked from finally being able to rest, you turn to Jing Yuan, softly pressing your knuckles against his jaw. 

“I knew you’d always come for me…”

Those were the last words you exchanged with him before passing out.

-

You woke up in an infirmary, several doctors rushing by, attending to other patients. Covered in bandages, the sterile smell of the room filled your senses. Looking around, you noticed Jing Yuan and Yanqing sleeping on the seats next to your bed. 

Your lips curved upward into a small smile as you took in the scene. Your boys, waiting for you to get better. 

[teaandjumpers]

Occasion (obikin ficlet)

Summary: Obi-Wan gives Anakin a gift. Rated G. - - - -

“I thought we agreed you’d wear goggles at the workstation,” said Obi-Wan, sidling up to stand beside Anakin at his workbench.

The younger man was hunched over the table, soldering something, his face too close to the tool to be considered safe. 

“I thought we agreed you wouldn’t creep up on me like that,” said Anakin, not bothering to glance his way. 

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, leaning against the workbench. He had broadcast his approach through the Force, and he knew Anakin was aware of his presence, the younger man sending him a slightly annoyed ping across their bond. 

Anakin was often hard to reach when he was working on a project, immersing himself completely in a task and finding it difficult to refocus when he was interrupted. 

He felt bad for a moment, but he had a good reason for disrupting his former Padawan. 

“I have something for you,” he said, keeping his voice light. 

Anakin’s head shot up at the words, his shoulder-length hair whipping about him. 

Oh, how he’d grown into those curls. When he had first started growing his hair out, the dark, golden strands beginning to coil near the ends, Obi-Wan knew that his soft-eyed Padawan was going to be a heartbreaker. 

He just didn’t realize it would be his heart Anakin would be breaking. What a cruel fate to fall for your former Padawan. And a crueler fate to have half the galaxy fall along with you. 

Obi-Wan had done all he could to rid himself of his feelings—the attraction, at least. 

He had given up on not loving Anakin long ago, maybe even as early as that day on Naboo, standing beside his new apprentice, the young boy having been through so much already, standing tall alongside him as an entire planet cheered them on. 

He had asked Yoda once, years before Qui-Gon took him on, what it was like for a Master and Apprentice, what shape a bond took. 

“Different every Master and Padawan relationship is. Find your way there perhaps one day you will.”

And find his way he had. Or rather, it had found him. 

He had loved his Master dearly, his Master’s presence in the Force always grounding, a warm fire that made him feel forever safe, like nothing bad could ever truly happen. 

But Anakin—Anakin was like a supernova, an unending, thunderous storm, a screaming bright star that was impossible to ignore.  

In those early years, he thought of little else but Anakin, his welfare and whereabouts. 

Had his own Master woken repeatedly in the middle of the night, sheets drenched, a blind panic thundering against his chest as he searched the Force for his Padawan’s location? 

Anakin had always been close. Almost always safe. And though Obi-Wan felt him in the Force, he always had to check, confirm it with his eyes, that Anakin was alive, healthy, there.

He was eternally grateful that his apprentice was strong in the Force. It meant Obi-Wan would never have to confront who he would be, who he would become if his Padawan was ever in any real danger.  

Standing beside Anakin now, perhaps one of the strongest Force users in the galaxy, he felt silly, wondering if it was too late to take back his words. Wondering if the younger man had seen the small bundle he was clutching in his right hand. 

Of course he had. 

Obi-Wan wordlessly handed the package over, watching with some trepidation as Anakin untied the string holding the linen fabric in place. 

The cloth fell away to reveal a model ship. It was still grimy despite Obi-Wan’s best efforts to clean the thing, the ship’s insect-like design making it difficult to thoroughly clean its delicate, spindly limbs. 

He had bought the toy on a recent mission, passing by a storefront on a mid-rim planet where a child who looked remarkably like a 10-year old Anakin from behind had stopped him in his tracks, the young boy’s palms pressed against the smudged window pane as he gazed at the model ships neatly displayed on the other side.

How many times had a similar scene played out with Anakin, his Padawan’s gaze straying, fixing on a toy he would never have. 

“It’s a Jedi Vector ship,” said Obi-Wan, the words clumsy on his tongue. “It was a High—”

“A High Republic ship,” finished Anakin, turning the model over in his hands, smiling as he did so. “I know.”

Anakin smiled up at him sweetly, and if Obi-Wan didn’t know the man, if there had been no planet-wide history between them, he would have grabbed him by the face and kissed him. 

A ‘pathetic life form’ he had called him once. Anakin would have been a complete stranger in a different life, a speck of sand in a large desert of people who deserved better. 

It was selfish, and very un-Jedi-like, but Obi-Wan was grateful that Anakin’s fate had been different. 

“But what’s the occasion?” asked Anakin, still smiling, still looking up at him, still, somehow, every bit as spirited as he was before the war. 

The occasion, thought Obi-Wan. The occasion was every occasion, every year, every month, every day, every breath the Force sought fit to gift him, here, alongside Anakin. 

But he simply said—

“You are.”

[ducktoo]

Syncing Dream [Aespa x M!Reader]

22. Imma get it done

Note: Last chapter of Arc 3! Quite a short arc but enjoy!

Masterlist here

With Supernova a massive hit, aespa was riding high on the wave of their success. The comeback had exceeded everyone’s expectations, garnering rave reviews and sending them to the top of the charts. Y/n couldn’t have been prouder, even though he had become an unexpected viral sensation himself.

But as soon as the hype around Supernova had begun to settle, the group’s attention turned to their next project: Armageddon.

And Y/n, despite the teasing he’d endured from his Supernova dance attempt, found himself secretly thrilled about Armageddon. This style? This was his kind of dance.

The girls were in the middle of rehearsals one afternoon, going over the new moves while Y/n watched from the back of the practice room. His eyes followed the sharpness of Karina’s moves, the precision of Giselle’s footwork, the elegance of Winter’s spins, and the playful intensity of Ningning’s expressions. They were nailing it, as always.

But the choreography for Armageddon stirred something in Y/n that Supernova hadn’t. It wasn’t just that the dance was complex—it was the attitude. The raw, powerful energy reminded him of his trainee days, when he had thrived on styles like this.

As the rehearsal progressed, Y/n felt his chest popping to the rhythm, as if itching to join in. He could already picture himself moving through the motions, flowing effortlessly through the choreography. His body craved the challenge, even though his rational mind warned him not to make a fool of himself again.

He’d barely made it through Supernova without becoming the fifth member. But this? This was different.

The music cut off abruptly, and the girls collapsed onto the floor, panting from exertion.

“Wow, this is a killer,” Giselle breathed out, wiping the sweat from her brow.

“It’s so intense,” Winter added, stretching out her legs as she caught her breath. “But I love it. I look so damn cool here.”

Karina looked over at Y/n, who was leaning against the wall, a distant look in his eyes. “You okay over there, Y/n? You’ve been awfully quiet.”

“Yeah,” Ningning chimed in, still catching her breath but wearing a mischievous grin. “You’re not planning on going viral again, are you? Because if you want to try this dance too, we’ve got our cameras ready.”

Y/n snapped out of his thoughts, blinking. “W-What? No, no. I’m just... watching.”

“Uh-huh.” Giselle raised an eyebrow, not convinced for a second. “You’ve been popping your chest the whole time. Don’t think we didn’t notice.”

Karina’s eyes lit up with realization. “Oooooh… you want to dance to Armageddon, don’t you?”

The room fell silent for a moment as the girls stared at Y/n, waiting for his response. He hesitated, knowing that admitting it would only invite another round of teasing. But the temptation was too strong.

“...Maybe,” he pressed his lips thin, avoiding eye contact.

The room exploded with laughter.

“Seriously, idiot?” Winter said, her laughter ringing through the room. “After all that from Supernova?”

Y/n’s face flushed, but he couldn’t help but grin. “Look, Supernova was... Fine and fun. But this? This is more my style. I used to train with songs and intensity like this all the time. It’s different. You guys saw my first one when I danced to Drama”

"Actually, yea you're right." Karina nodded. "Drama was your favourite track from last year, and it shows."

"See?" Y/n exclaimed, ignoring the subtle tease from Karina.

Ningning clapped her hands together. “Well then, Y/n-oppa, you’ve got to show us. Come on! We need to see this.”

Y/n shook his head, already regretting his confession. “No way. You guys will just record me again and make me the centre of another viral video.”

“Duh.” Ningning deadpanned.

"You're stating the obvious at this point." Giselle deadpanned.

Karina smirked and crossed her arms, tilting her head in a way that made her seem both intimidating and playful. “You’re not getting out of this one, Y/n. You already admitted you want to do it. We’re not letting you off the hook.”

The girls stood up, forming a loose circle around him, grins plastered on their faces. Y/n sighed, realizing there was no escape. “Alright, alright. But no recording this time. I mean it.”

The girls groaned but agreed to the terms, reluctantly pocketing their phones. Y/n took a deep breath and stretched his arms, preparing himself. He hadn’t danced like this since last year. But muscle memory kicked in almost immediately.

Karina hit play on the track, and as the heavy beat of Armageddon filled the room, Y/n let himself go.

"Imma get. It. Done~"

His body moved instinctively to the rhythm, hitting each beat with a precision that surprised even him. The choreography was sharp, aggressive, and intense—exactly what he thrived on. He spun, kicked, and hit the floor with practiced ease, feeling the adrenaline rush through him. For the first time in a long while, he wasn’t the manager watching from the sidelines. He was dancing.

When the song came to an end, Y/n froze in his final pose, breathing hard. The room was dead silent for a moment, the girls standing there, wide-eyed and impressed.

“Jesus Christ…” Giselle finally said, breaking the silence. “That was... amazing.”

“Why are you our manager again?” Winter asked, her mouth agape. “Just replace Naevis and be our real fifth member at this point!”

Y/n chuckled, wiping the sweat from his forehead. “Ehhhh, no thanks.”

But the girls weren’t done teasing him yet. Ningning nudged him playfully. “You know you’re going to go viral again, right? Even if we don’t record this, someone’s going to find out. Fans always do.”

Y/n groaned, collapsing onto the floor next to them. “Please. No more. I have enough teasing from the other managers.”

Karina grinned, sitting beside him. “Sorry, but you brought this on yourself. The dance was too good not to share.”

-

After the intense rehearsal and teasing session, the practice room finally began to settle down. The girls were going through the motions of cooling down, wiping their faces with towels, while Y/n leaned back against the wall, catching his breath.

As the group prepared to wrap up, Y/n couldn’t help but glance at Winter. She was still in her stage outfit, a sleek black ensemble that fit perfectly with the fierce concept of Armageddon. Her hair was slightly tousled, her eyes still carrying that sharp intensity from the dance, and for a moment, Y/n found himself a bit… distracted.

(I mean….look at her!!)

He cleared his throat, trying to shake off the thought. "Stop it, Y/n. She’s just in her stage outfit. It’s nothing."

But the idea of filming a short-form video with Winter suddenly popped into his mind. He’d already danced to "Supernova" and, well, kind of nailed the moves for "Armageddon" earlier. Why not just one quick video with Winter? Something fun with your besties.

Besides, Winter in that outfit—she looked amazing. Maybe too amazing.

"Just a video for fun" he told himself.

But before he could gather the nerve to ask, Winter beat him to it.

“Ya, Y/n,” she called out casually, strolling over to him with her towel slung over her shoulder. “Wanna film a quick TikTok with me?”

Y/n blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “What?”

Winter grinned, crossing her arms. “You heard me. Let’s film a short video together. You know, for the fans and might as well get you viral for the lols.”

For a second, Y/n thought maybe he had spoken his thoughts aloud and she’d heard. But no—Winter had just sensed the moment. She always had this uncanny ability to read him since elementary schools. And now, there she was, standing right in front of him, offering exactly what he had been thinking.

He scratched the back of his neck, feeling a little embarrassed. “Uh, yeah… sure. What did you have in mind?”

Winter shrugged, a playful glint in her eyes. “I don’t know. Something simple. We can do the chorus part of Armageddon—you know, the part you’re obviously dying to do again.”

Y/n laughed nervously. “Ok, that is exaggerating…”

Just as they started setting up, Karina, Giselle, and Ningning caught wind of what was happening. They exchanged glances and quickly circled around the pair, smirks already forming on their faces.

“Wooooow, so when Minjeong asked you to record together, you will? Favoritism!” Karina teased.

“Ooohh, what’s this?” Ningning asked, clearly enjoying the opportunity to tease. “Are we actually gonna see some content from you, Y/n-oppa?”

“Or should we say… couple content?” Giselle added with a wink.

Y/n flushed a deep shade of red. “Oh piss off! It’s just a video for the fans!” He laughed.

Karina leaned against the wall, crossing her arms with a mischievous grin. “Suuuuurrreee.”

Winter, catching on to the teasing, played along. She gave Y/n an exaggerated, flirty glance, making him even more flustered. “I mean, Y/n is a natural in front of the camera. It’d be a shame not to showcase his skills, right?”

"Since when?"

Winter raised her eyebrow. "Supernova, duhhh."

Y/n groaned, shaking his head. “You’re all going to make this impossible, aren’t you?”

The girls burst into laughter, enjoying every second of his embarrassment. Winter, still smiling, leaned in a little closer, her voice teasing yet somehow genuine. “Come on, idiot. It’s just a quick video. You and me, no pressure.”

Despite his nerves, Y/n found himself nodding. “Alright, alright. Let’s just get it over with before they start recording us. And I need a cap from you, Aeri.”

"Oh, shit. He's serious now." Giselle wooed.

Winter grinned in victory and quickly set up her phone. She positioned them both in front of the camera, standing side by side, ready to film. The beat of Armageddon played softly in the background, and as soon as the music hit the right moment, they started dancing together.

Winter, as always, was perfectly in sync, her moves precise and confident. Y/n, to his own surprise, managed to keep up. The intensity of the choreography suited them both, and for a brief moment, they forgot about the teasing eyes watching them from the sidelines.

But, of course, the peace didn’t last long.

“Look at them,” Karina whispered loud enough for everyone to hear. “They look like they’re shooting a couple’s video.”

“Maybe we should start shipping them,” Giselle added with a grin. “Imagine the fan theories.”

Ningning, never one to hold back, clapped her hands. “We could call it MinY/n Or Y/nTer!”

Y/n almost tripped mid-dance as his face turned a deep shade of red. Winter, however, laughed it off and continued dancing, her smile never fading. She seemed completely unfazed by the teasing, while Y/n struggled to maintain his composure.

They finished the short routine, and Winter hit pause on the recording. “There. Done. Easy, right?”

Y/n exhaled, grateful that the dance was over. “Yeah, easy.”

But before he could relax, Ningning jumped forward and grabbed Winter’s phone, quickly hitting play on the video. “Let’s see how it turned out!”

"I'll just go and bury myself in the corner." Defeated, Y/n dragged himself away to avoid any further embarrassments.

As the video played, the girls huddled around the phone, watching intently. Giselle and Karina exchanged knowing smirks while Ningning giggled at Y/n’s obvious nervousness during the dance.

“You two actually look pretty good together,” Karina teased. “Maybe we should make this a regular thing.”

Winter shot a playful glance at Y/n. “What do you think, idiot? Should we make this a regular thing?”

Y/n, still flustered, just shook his head and laughed awkwardly. “I think one video is enough for me, thanks.”

But deep down, as much as he dreaded the teasing, Y/n couldn’t help but enjoy the moment. Sharing the stage, even just for a short video, felt like a piece of his old trainee life returning. And as much as he tried to deny it, dancing with Winter, teasing or not, had been… fun.

Before the teasing could go any further, Winter tucked her phone away and turned to the others with a grin. “Alright, that’s enough. Let’s not torment our idiot too much.”

“Aww, you’re being too nice,” Giselle pouted, though clearly joking.

“Don’t worry,” Ningning added with a wink. “I’ve already saved the video for future teasing material.”

Y/n groaned but smiled despite himself. As much as they teased him, he knew it was all in good fun. These moments, as chaotic and embarrassing as they could be, were what made living and working with aespa so special.

-

As the laughter and teasing finally died down, Y/n excused himself, heading to the kitchen for a moment of peace. He grabbed a bottle of water, still smiling at the chaos the girls had stirred up. These moments—though filled with endless teasing—were oddly comforting. The energy, the camaraderie, the way they pulled him into their world—it made everything worth it.

But his peaceful moment didn’t last long.

“Y/n,” a familiar voice called from behind him.

He turned to see the CEO standing in the doorway, arms crossed, a knowing smile on his face. Y/n stood up straighter, immediately switching into work mode. “Ah, sir! Didn’t know you were here.”

The CEO walked into the kitchen, casually leaning against the counter. “Caught the tail end of that video. You and Winter, huh? Not bad, not bad.”

Y/n flushed slightly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Ehhh. It was just for fun. The girls wanted to film something quick for the fans.”

The CEO nodded, but the glint in his eyes hinted at something more. “You looked good out there, you know. Really natural. Makes me wonder…”

Y/n blinked, suddenly sensing where the conversation was heading. “I don't like where this is going…”

The CEO straightened up, arms still crossed as he studied Y/n. “You were a trainee before, and clearly haven’t lost your touch. What if we… you know, gave you another shot? A chance to redebut. You’d have the experience and fan support now, especially after going viral. Plus, the girls clearly like having you around.”

Y/n felt his stomach drop.

Redebut?

As in, go back to being an idol?

For a moment, the thought danced in his mind. The training, the performing, the stage lights—it was once his dream. But now, standing in the midst of the chaos that was aespa’s world, he realized something important.

Sure, being on stage again could be exciting, but he had found a different kind of joy here. Being their manager, getting teased relentlessly, watching over them as they navigated their own journey—that felt more fulfilling than anything. They relied on him, just as much as he did on them. The chaos they brought into his life was something he’d grown to appreciate, maybe even love.

Y/n shook his head, smiling softly. “I appreciate the offer, sir, but… I think I’m good where I am.”

The CEO raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Really? You’re sure? It’s not every day someone gets a second chance like this.”

Y/n laughed lightly, glancing back toward the practice room where the girls were still giggling about their latest prank. “Yeah, I’m sure. To be honest, It is more peaceful than I thought…despite how it looks. Plus, it feels more fulfilling.”

The CEO studied him for a moment before breaking into a grin. “Fair enough. Not everyone can handle that kind of chaos, but you seem to be managing it pretty well.”

Y/n chuckled. “Barely. These kids will make me age faster.”

With a nod, the CEO clapped him on the shoulder. “Well, if you ever change your mind, the offer’s on the table. But for now, I’m glad you’re sticking with them. They need someone like you.”

As the CEO walked away, Y/n took a long sip of water, letting out a deep breath. The idea of redebuting… it had been tempting, but this was where he belonged. Watching over aespa, dealing with their endless teasing, and navigating through their ups and downs—this was his life now.

Otherwise, who would watch over that crybaby better than himself?

[natalieina]

The Fog

The eyesore of the fog huddles in a field near a dark forest, dissecting everything around with its white eyelashes. I can't even see my feet walking on the cold steel dew. Silence. I penetrate deep into the white essence, which seems to have wrapped my body in gauze spider cloth from all sides. It becomes unbearable for me to swallow these pale, bluish-lake-like clusters of fog. But I go further and further into the depths, hoping to grope my way to the purple fortress wall of the forest. Stretching my arms out like a somnambulist, I involuntarily lower them into the white water, which immediately stings with its cold. It seems as if I am surrounded by some kind of substance, alive and watching my every step...

Hands - @supernovae-dfg

Natalie Ina Photography 2023-2024

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[ilycove]

Cove’s hands traveled across your body, an almost motherly expression on his face. "I feel like your fever's gotten worse."

You turn over in his tight hold, your eyes clashing with the ocean. "Maybe it's because you keep cuddling me."

Cove doesn’t reply. He doesn’t have to, really. A hand of his stays at your waist while one travels up to your chest. He places it on your heart and feels his heartbeat beat at the same time as yours. It’s gentle, but so prominent.

You place your head over his chest. He notices you’re warm, really warm.  He goes to offer some water, or maybe soup, but you tell him you’re fine. 

At that moment, it’s only you and him who exist. Everybody else in your neighborhood doesn’t matter, it’s only your home that has life in it. His fingers draw circles against your skin, and if your fever wasn’t making it hard enough to keep your eyes open, he was definitely elevating that battle. He notices this, just like every other little thing about you, and you can’t stop him from offering this time. “I really don’t mind making you soup.”

“I do.” You lift your head and try to keep your eyes open to meet his again, and almost immediately drop it.

“Oh.” You watch as his eyes follow to the ground, but the corner of his lips tug into a small smile.

You lazily wrap an arm around his waist, pulling him even closer than your bodies would allow. You match his breathing with his, and suddenly everything sucks a lot less. You stay like that for a moment before deciding you needed his voice again. “Do you think we would’ve found each other in another life?”

He doesn’t miss a beat before replying with; “Of course.”

“...Same. I think that if you were an otter, I’d never let go of you so we never drifted apart,” You paused. You met his eyes again, smiling softly. “If you were a prince in a foreign land, and you were forced to marry someone else, I’d help you run away. I’d send you love letters every night and pray you’d read them.”  You closed your eyes and hum, comfortably. You barely even notice that his eyes lingered on your figure. He takes a deep breath, and you feel his voice.

"...I think that, if you were a star, I'd become an astronaut. And I'd study you for years to come."

You hum, closing your eyes once again and letting yourself sink into his presence. "And what if I exploded? Like a supernova?"

"Then I'd take the little pieces of your stardust and compact you back together."

"And if I slip through your fingers?"

He pressed a kiss in between your eyes. You can feel him smile against your skin. "Then I would know that it's for the better. I'd make sure every scientist and astrologer alike knew your name. And you'd still be the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," he pauses to take a breath, bittersweetly smiling. “I think I’d always miss you in my bones. Grief and growing wouldn’t be enough to forget about you. About us.”

You don’t reply at first. You’re thinking about what to say when his hands come up to your scalp to play with your hair, his fingernails scratch against your scalp and you can’t keep your eyes open anymore. 

Once Cove notices you on the brink of unconsciousness, he laughs and you can feel it vibrate through your bodies. He kisses the crown of your head. He says something, but you didn’t quite hear his voice. You only heard his heartbeat.

“I’ll love you when our hair turns gray. We’ll live in an old cottage, maybe not too far away from here so our kids could still have an experience like ours. Maybe not. I’m not too sure yet,” his fingers curl around some wisps of hair and pull you further into a sleepy trance. “...We could have a cardboard box full of photos throughout our life. I’m sure your moms have some baby pictures of us together. I think our kids would be envious of us.” He seals off his speech with a chuckle.

You don’t know which hand it was, but one of his hands starts holding one of yours. He presses a kiss to your cheekbone and whispers against your ear. “I love you.”

You knew that already. You squeeze his hand three times. You love him too.

[bitethehnd]

Fwb with JB thank you!!

*₊˚ 🍷 𖦹 red wine supernova !

pairing : julien baker x reader

synopsis : being friends with benefits with julien ;)

cw : sexual themes (obviously), smut, mentions of fingering, oral and strap-on sex

baby, why don't you come over?

red wine supernova

falling into me

julien never really thought she'd be the type to end up in this predicament. she never really understood why people would hook up with no strings attached. it seemed stupid in her opinion. but then there was you

you, who she had met through phoebe many years ago. you, who had become one of her closest friends. you, who she cared for to no end. you, who she felt her attraction to rise everyday like an ocean tide

you had both just gotten out of a relationship, not ready for another yet but still feeling bored with your lives the way they were. julien told herself that after the first time it happened, she would never do it again. she didn't want to risk your friendship over meaningless sex

it was three in the morning on a hot july day in tennessee. even though it was the middle of the night, it was still hot as a sauna in julien's house. both of you laid awake, too warm to even think about sleeping. the two of you were lying on julien's bed and watching some stupid movie that neither of you were paying any attention to.

"i'm boredddd," you whine out with a huff, turning to face julien. the short woman lets out a chuckle at your childish behavior and props her head up on her elbow, gazing down at you. "and what would you like me to do about that?" she teases. you scoff, "i don't know. entertain me, hostess."

"do you wanna play a game?" julien questions, not really sure what else there would be to do at 3am on a random tuesday. "you're such a grandpa, jules," you giggle a bit and fall back down on the bed.

she scoffs dramatically and pulls herself fully up, now leering over you. "i'll show you grandpa," she says lowly before she pounces on you. you let out a shriek of surprise as she attacks you with tickles. she runs her hands over your sides and stomach, ready to make you regret what you said. the room is full of joyful laughter. you try to fight back, you really do, but she's surprisingly strong for her five-foot-tall statue. at the end, she ends up pinning your hands besides your head to stop your thrashing and her body rests directly on top of yours.

your laughter stops abruptly, leaving you both to stare at each other with confusion and want. neither of you know what to do. do you pull away and pretend it never happened? or do you continue? it seems like you made the decision for both of you, leaning up and locking julien's lips onto yours.

her eyes widen but she quickly kisses you back just as fiercely. her hands move from pinning your wrists down to your hips, running her hands over the expanse of your stomach. your hands go to pull her hair, making her let out a slight groan into your mouth.

you can feel everything in that moment. her body right on top of yours, her tongue practically down your throat, the gentleness of her hands on your body. it all becomes too much, and you pull away for air.

your heavy breathes mix into hers, like they're becoming one. she searches your eyes for any hint of regret or uncomfortableness but finds the exact opposite. "is this... okay?" she asks hesitantly, almost as if she scared for the response. "it's more than okay, jules," you smile and run your hands softly through her hair. she smiles back and swiftly moves her face to your neck, leaving purple bruises all over the fragile skin.

that night was close to magical. her hands were everywhere, touching you in places no one had before. you felt her take your breath away over and over and over again. at the end of the night, she told you that you tasted like candy with a smirk on her face.

the morning after you two had sex for the first time, you had a long talk about what it meant for the both of you. you decided that it was for the best if you guys kept it casual, since both of you just got out of pretty long relationships. it hurt both of you on the inside to say that, but it was how it had to be

julien had immeidatly told phoebe and lucy the moment you left her house, spilling out all her feelings into a ten-minute-long rant. lucy definitely told julien to tell you how she actually felt, but the woman was nothing but stubborn

thus began the long nights with julien whenever you would see her. during the day you would act like 'just friends,' but at night you would always end up in bed with her

as you both got more comfortable with the situation, you would love to confuse everyone by flirting with each other all the time, kissing, holding hands. really just acting like an actual couple just to get a laugh between yourselves. people on the internet speculating whether you guys were actually together or just fucking with everyone

you could literally just text her 'come over' and she's already sprinting to her car to get to your house

99% of the time you have to initiate things because julien is too scared to cross a line or make you uncomfortable in any way. but then she ends up taking the more dominant role and bossing you around. mmm it's so hot...

you guys love to have sleepovers. when you make the plans beforehand you both agree that it's just a little friend date, nothing sexual involved. but then julien ends up fingering you on your couch... seeing the veins under her tattoos pop out while her fingers are straining inside you just gets you going again, and you have to get on your knees and eat her out

julien would get sooo jealous if you told her you had a date. she wouldn't outright tell you she was jealous because she knew it wasn't her place to say anything about it. but she's so easy to read and you can tell from her lack of enthusiasm that she's not super pumped about you seeing someone else. in the end, she convinces you to cancel on the date using her... methods ;)

eventually, you two finally confess that you like each other. it took way too long to admit, but it happened! but it was a bit accidental on her part... she told you she loved you while her strap was rearranging your organs and you had to take a pause to do a double take... she took you out on a date the next day and happily ever after!

© bitethehnd

[scoutofmymind]

Until the Lambs Become Lions - Chapter 10/ ?

Pairing: Luigi Mangione / Female!Reader

Warnings: Smut, Dom/Sub themes, obsession

Reading up until chapter 10 is not necessary for the smut, but appreciated!

"I understand," Luigi promises, voice soft with submission. The flush painting his cheeks and the wet shine of his lips seal his fate more than any words could — how divine he looks coming undone, your perfect willing sacrifice.

You grin, the wolf in sheep’s clothing, watching his pulse jump beneath your palm as your hand slides from his nape to his throat.

His eyes flutter at the gentle pressure, dark lashes casting shadows on flushed cheeks when he catches his bottom lip between his teeth, thick brows drawn together in sweet agony as he fights back sounds he's not ready to release.

This is the Luigi so few ever see — stripped of his carefully constructed walls, of the sometimes rather rigid exterior that keeps everyone at arm's length.

You've heard the whispers, of course.

Luigi likes who he likes.

Everyone else a distracting static.

His universe is small and carefully curated, and he orbits you like you hold the gravity of worlds in your hands. Yet, all this time you've felt like a distant celestial event — a supernova perpetually exploding and collapsing, burning bright enough to blind before the darkness claims you again and again.

"Very good." You watch him tremble beneath your touch, desperation coiled tight in every muscle, thrumming beneath his skin like a live wire seeking ground.

"Please," the word escapes like a prayer, barely more than a breath. "Hurt me."

Love me, love me, love me

Continue reading on Ao3

[lar-arts]

You said you have more info on Xelqua and Watchers

Pls

More info

You see me? See these tears in my eyes? thank you for asking

Okay. In case you might need a refreshment, this is what my Xelqua looks like

Watchers dont really have forms, not ones that can be seen by players at least (they live in the space between servers, where no player is ever able to see them) so they are just,,, these things.

Xelqua in particular has this kinda star/sun shaped "head", because I'm a sucker for sun/star symbolism when it comes to Grian, but also because it's his distinctive (not all watchers have forms that distinguish them from the rest, but G does)

(What happens when he burns out? Will he go supernova and become a black hole, destroy everything around him?

Doesn't he do that already?)

The reason Xelqua is known as the guide and the light amongst watchers and those who know of them is because when he is actively watching a server, he manifests as the brightest star in the sky. During the day he just blends with the sun, but at night he can be seen by normal players. He tends to act like Polaris does here, as a guide to those who wander and need direction. Thus, the guide.

(I like to think that when he gets to hc6 there is a point, and this may be months into the season, when he is either alone or with another hermit looking at the stars. And there is this moment when he sees himself from the perspective of a player for the fisrt time, he sees that light in the sky that is shining just a bit brighter than the rest, and is hit with- something. Like looking into a mirror for the first time, he recognizes himself as a watcher and as a player that is looking straight at him. If he had a mouth, he'd smile.)

The eyes (and this goes for every watcher) get more abstract the farther away they are from the main "body". Again, no one can see this, but it means that their sight is more limited the further away from them it is, and not as noticeable by players who know what to look for.

When Xelqua decides that being a watcher is neat and all, but it has been a long while and he'd like to be able to play again, it very much works as if he was playing minecraft, just better. He can feel things as a player does, needs to sleep and eat and drink water, but nothing really affects him, you know? We make our characters in mc eat and rest because otherwise it will die and be forced to respawn, but there is nothing at stake for us, we can step away anytime and come back the same. The same goes for Grian.

I could go forever I think about the implications of all this but this is the lore I have firmly written down! (for now) (if anyone wants to ask me about something more specific I'll be glad to answer) Thank you so much for asking i am kissing you on the mouth

[chosoclub]

Art by nada_ge

Playlist based off of this work → here

CONSPECTUS: Suguru Geto is transfixed by you and he would eliminate anything that stands in the way of you and him.  TAGS: MDNI! ° wc 3k ° dark content ° stalking ° cannibalistic idioms ° masturbation ° afab!reader ° cunnilingus (f!receiving) ° penetration ° fingering ° incel!suguru LMAO ° no y/n mention

SUTPHIN BLVD ⋆ SUGURU GETO&READER

The word soulmate has been churned and spit out with no vindication; Stellar collisions seldom occur frequently, and when two white dwarfs spin into each other, their mass instability can conceive a supernova so strong, that the dwarfs’ obsolete mass is thwarted into the galaxy. Yet, this word, soulmate, an event that is meant to encapsulate a feeling so obsessive, so thrusting and strong has been diluted to nothing but a mere expression of love. 

When Suguru first saw you, neon and glowing, he empathized with the supernova. Partially from the alcohol that flowed up to his irises, partially from the way you dress hugged the concaves of your waist and thighs, he felt his vision vignette with you in the center. Your eyes sparkled like dew-misted grass, the words that came out of your lips blurry when they hit his ears, 

“I said, I love this song! What’s it called?” You repeated after his second consecutive huh?

The music boomed through his headphones, making his head spin, and the motor functions flow out of his fingertips when spinning a knob to reverb to the next track.

“Techno? It sounds sick!” You yell over the crowd when he responds, your voice maintains a soft and silky tone even when you’re hollering. 

The music in his ears ceases immediately when he rips the headphones off his head, “Take over for me,” body towards his partner, eyes still on you, watching you begin to dance and blend back into the crowd. The other grabs his headphones. 

The feeling takes over him like ebony ink, swirling through his arteries until it fills him up from head to toe and he feels overtaken by the overwhelmingly obsessive jet black: Her. 

At the end of the night, Suguru has you propped against the brick wall of the bathroom, a hand under your dress, kneading at your breast as you softly moan against his mouth. Your lips are glistening with spit, the plump coral splitting to moan his name in the blur of the club music. He sucks at your neck, the tension between his lips and your skin bleeding a red, purple, blue he laps his tongue over before moving lower to create another masterpiece on the skin. 

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” He slurs against your bare stomach, placing a kiss on the surface before bracing your legs on his shoulders and laving the entrance of your pussy. His warm tongue against your flesh contrasts the cold wall against your back as you groan his name against the brick. You can feel every ridge that protrudes his tongue as he flicks it in between the currents of your pussy. Suguru wants desperately to twist his tongue until you’re crumbling against him like putty, spinning you at his will until there’s nothing left. 

The bass of the music feels even more intense when you’re so close to your orgasm and when his acute movements quicken, you have to grip at his long raven locks to keep conscious. 

This routine develops over the next few months, and Suguru and his tongue become a presence you see more often. His arm leaning against the door frame when you swing the door open, the two of you both in agreement on terms he’s there for. He’d stay to chat, slowly unfolding you at the palm of his hand, learning more, understanding more about you, and then eventually in the night, fucking the daylights out of you. To you, he modulates into a friend who’s pretty good at making you feel good. One night, he’s sitting on the edge of the couch, arm on the cherry brown armrest, the other stretched against the back cushions and hovering over your head. His eyes have a warm crease to them.

“I like having you around,” you turn to him, smiling. The arm by your neck shifts so that he can rest his temple against his knuckles. 

“Yeah? I’m not surprised.”

“Jesus, no, not like that,” pausing, “yes, like that, but also as someone to talk to.” 

He smiles, eventually unable to help the toothy grin against his right palm. You lean to slide your tongue in between his teeth. He takes you in, arms shifting to each other’s hair, tongue sliding against the soft part of your cheek. 

“I could say the same about you,” he groans against your lips. You tug lightly at his long, black hair, moaning softly when you feel the tip of his shaft poking your thigh. He slides down the couch to let you fully lay atop him and feel the girth of his dick. To Suguru, you begin to overtake every part of his brain. He can’t help but think of you at all hours of the day until the image of you is a constant in his brain, and the thought of you splitting to run to some derivative of him tightens his chest, the black inkling rising to his head until the only thing that can bring him back to Earth is the vision you opening the front door and welcoming him in. When he catches you gazing down at him, gluttonous on your core like licking a bloomed orchid in the spring, the thought of someone else having you at their will like this, eyes glossed over, chest heaving, has him digging his nails into the silk flesh of your thighs until the marks flush bright red slits.

You’re so fucking perfect, Suguru hovers over your lips, his velvet fingers swirling the nectar between your legs, streaks spilling out onto his knuckles. He couldn’t imagine someone else making you feel as good as he does.

Even when he’s not with you, a day off from work, he's stretched on the couch, one hand pawing at his dick, the other swiping through the collection of you – one sleeping soundly on his arm, one through the blinds of you leaning close to the mirror, mouth slightly agape, hand mid-brushing an ebony wand through your lashes, taken minutes before he knocked on your front door. All are unique in their setting, all similar of you unknowing. 

Suguru pictures your velvet flesh, the gravitational pull in the way you lean against him, thrust against him, heave against him. He wonders what it would be like to devour you whole, too pretty too chew, too delicious to consume you only with his eyes. He thinks of your ruby-fresh blood, the way it percolates against your skin when he leaves hickeys all over your chest – wondering if he could bite hard enough to get a taste of the rouge, even picturing your eyes widening in surprise and possibly fear at the sudden action. Regardless, he wonders what it tastes like, expectantly sweet or bitter. He sighs at the thought, feeling his vision blur at the abrupt surge of a climax. 

The next day, when the words, I think I met someone spill from your lips, a soft smile as you look at him expectantly for him to grin back, flash his pearly canines like he always does when you lean close to him on the couch, he only narrows his eyes. 

“Who?” 

“I don’t think you’d know him but I met him while I was out the other night,” your smile is sticking to your cheeks without you realizing it and Suguru despises it, at least when it’s for another man. He can feel his heart beginning to thunder in his ribcage and his blood speed through his veins until they’re protruding out of his skin. 

This felt like a double entendre, one side to tell Suguru as a supposed friend, and the other, a shadow that grows along the room, to say it’s probably in due time we stop seeing each other sexually, but you can still stick around and listen to the new man I’ve been fucking, and Suguru was convinced he despised that even more. The jet-black feels like it’s overtaking every hair on his body, rage bubbling from his core until all he can do to suppress it all is slightly tighten his jaw. 

“Shit, well, that’s great – I’d love to meet him sometime.” He thinks your smile is cruel; a pinnacle of some sort of game you’ve entered with yourself to make him feel like shit after all these months. He has to count his breaths to not offset the rhythm of you two. He gazes into your unfazed composure, the vignette growing until the innocent facade begins to slip away until all that’s left of you is skeletal and infuriating. He can’t help but hate you for this. 

He thinks of this someone from the other night, wondering if he’d already been over and sat in the same place Suguru sits. If he’d been inside you already. How it went. What it felt like. He can’t help the way he quietly scowls towards the floor, rageful at someone and rageful at you.

He leaves your place that afternoon with a permanent narrow in his eyes, but the next night, he’s mapping the steps back to your place. Sutphin Boulevard, he murmurs to himself. He adores how idiotically you leave the blinds unfolded at night for anyone to walk by and peek into life inside. A sweet sigh of relief when he sees you alone cuddled on the couch, phone slipping from your numb hand, eyes closed and resting with the TV blaring. 

He tsks disappointingly at how easy it is for someone to peer inside and watch you sleep. Hypnotic, his thoughts and the way he wants to pick you up and nestle you deep where you can rest forever, unbothered by anyone else but him. Suguru stands there a while, the street empty so late at night, watching and picturing you waking up with him above you flashing an impish smile; Once again his desires shift to see fear in your eyes at how easily he managed to get inside. He’d shake his head, a thumb sliding across your jaw, the other four fingers pressing down on the purple veins of your neck. He wondered if you’d hide from him, ghost him for a while; not answer texts or calls until he’d have no choice but to slip back inside your life. Found ya, sweetheart.

Things didn’t seem to be running smoothly for you and your new man, you find solace and trust in Suguru. You invite him out to the park nearby, the secluded lake that welcomes a pink and yellow sunset as you rant to Suguru about your new love life.

“I don’t know, he hasn’t been reaching out to me if I don't text first,” you say, “that sucks, doesn’t it?”

“You want someone to make an effort for you.”

This causes the blood pumping through Suguru’s chest to pump faster. This asshole doesn’t even know what he has in his hands, he thinks, fists suddenly tight as iron. The thought of you in pain, shedding a tear over this man has him feeling hot; He’s already flipping through scenario after scenario to seek out revenge for your hurt. 

“Right.” 

“You’re worth the effort.” 

Your smile softens Suguru’s grip on the wooden bench. It’s different this time, full of genuine, sticky-sweet honey the way it glows like the sunset. 

He couldn’t imagine you leaving; the possibility has him in shambles, that you would consider someone else in the first place has his heart sinking to his stomach. Suguru was so enamored with you he forgot about you seeking someone other than him – He couldn’t let you stagger away. The walks to your place became more frequent and the likelihood of him knocking to come inside dwindled. By this point, he’s convinced he’s in love, the only words that ring between his ears when you smile at him: soulmate. He grips his fists, nails digging into his palms with a sting. He feels like crying but physically can’t muster the tears and is thus stuck with a bitter scowl on his face and an anvil over his chest. He feels like he’s forgotten life before you and can’t picture a future without you in it.

Weeks later, it’s I think he’s ghosting me all the way down. He has to turn away from you to roll his eyes when you tell him, watching your tear ducts well up with tears as he turns his head. He hugs you tight, wanting your heartbeat to feel his in tandem. Then suggests getting your mind off that dickhead, sweet smile that facades his intentions. You sniffle against his chest, wet tears coating his neck when you nod. Suguru digs his hand into your hips, propping you against the wall and ramming into you until his name is the only one you think of and the only one you moan. 

For the first time since you met him, Suguru doesn’t spend the night. You watch him hazily as he rubs a thumb against your damp cheek. He gives your face an affectionate tap.

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll see you soon alright?” Then he adds, “I want to stay, but I can’t right now.” And all you can do is nod.

“It’s okay, Suguru, I’ll text you in the morning, yeah?”

“Yeah, of course.”

He spends the night rummaging through your social media to find any face that’s close to the one you’ve described and cried over. He’s on one of your Facebook posts, mouse hovering over the tag of a man, focus blurred from your shaky hand that took the selfie in a clear drunken state. But, when Suguru clicks on his profile, he has a clear spreadsheet of the man before him; his place of work, his habits, his education. He chuckles at how easy this man is to find; Suguru has already mapped out his schedule in his head. He’s completely submerged in adoration for you, the thought of another man hurting you is catastrophic to him just as much as you leaving him by choice.

He spends the next few days simply thinking. He doesn’t reach out much. He only sits at his desk and fantasizes. A punch to the gut, a punch to the nose to watch the blood spew out in droplets. A bat to the torso. A knife to the trunk to watch the rouge flow. All for you. Any of it, for you. 

He’s planned it perfectly as days turn to weeks; He’s learned this other man’s entire day-to-day. Most likely wakes up at six, takes the subway from Sutphin across to Manhattan, stays at his desk job until seven, lingers around the Manhattan bars until late, and takes the subway back, he’s back in Sutphin by three in the morning, where the raven awaits. 

When the silver doors slide open in the subway, Suguru bumps his shoulder against the other when he steps out onto the concrete. 

“Fuck, sorry man. Hey, you know if I catch a cab from here?” He fake slurs. The other's eyes are bloodshot but they narrow in annoyance. “I don’t live around here, I gotta get back before my girl gets worried.”

There’s only a handful of others who are already gone by the time the other says, “I don’t think cabs are running right now, you need a ride?”

Great, Suguru thinks, an asshole and a reckless driver. 

“Yeah, man, let’s get out from here, making ‘ma head ring.”

The two men stumble above ground, isolated in the night. The contents inside Suguru’s backpack shuffle as he fakes his best-drunk walk.

“Hold on, man. I gotta throw up.” The other stumbles into the alleyway that overlooks the park like a pawn piece that slides right into the path of the queen. Suguru can’t help the grin that takes over his face.

“Yeah, no worries.” He hovers behind the other, and when the asshole is hunched over vomiting over his shoes, Suguru lifts his leg to collide against the other’s backside, sending him hurling forward over the concrete. 

Before he has the chance to finish his holler, Suguru is on top of him, punching at his nose, unnoticing his knuckles that ache instead relishes in the ruby red that glistens across the digits when he lands another blow. Sounds of crack! echo through the darkened alleyway and Suguru decides it still isn’t enough. The only thought in his mind is you, you when he retracts his bloodied hand, you when he gazes at the man below him, eyes barely keeping conscious, jaw unhinging to let out a gut-wrenching scream – You when Suguru reaches for his shiv, you when the stab retaliates blood across his cheek. The gush of blood spills onto the concrete, filling the ridges of the pavement and catching the moonlight as Suguru stands to snap gloves over his already bloodied hands. The blood leaves a trail when he drags it along the alley, a heavy and loud splash when he hurls the man's existence into the void of the lake. 

The body sends soft waves across the surface that Suguru stands to watch until their flow eases. He sighs, then grins and lifts the back of his hand to smear the stranger’s blood that lays across his cheek. As he’s walking back around the block, reaching your place, he smiles again when he sees you forgot to turn your light off. 

AN. Get you a man that would kill for you

[crowleys-hips]

Touch Forbidden

another Crowley pov poem

i have never known how to be human i watch them, and i mimic  try to replicate their gestures, the way they breathe, move, speak, love my hands itch for touch forbidden  so instead i’ll bury my hands in soil grow a garden in barren land watch plants starve  for light they have never known as they inch closer, closer, closer to the sun i’ll light flames from my fingertips  and paint the whole sky  until time crashes and all my creations explode in supernovas  i’ll stroke piano keys no, pummel them until i or the instrument bleed i’ll drown the silence in the violence of grieving sonatas let the black and white between my fingers blur into shades of gray  as i try not to think of how your hands would feel interlaced with mine instead i’ll write you love letters you will never read until my hand cramps and breaks until i run out of ink or my veins are drained i’ll sink to the bottom of endless bottles of liquor until the image of you is a cloudy haze until i can’t feel my skin anymore crying out for the touch of yours i’ll render my hands useless as i grip the wheel of my car and try to outrun my thoughts bolting out at lightspeed  going interstellar and try to find a home hidden among dead planets that have never known warmth i’ll dig myself a hole there and become rootbound maybe then my soiled hands will forget your shape my skin will dissolve and cry no more for touch forbidden

tag list under the cut:

@wibbly-wobbly-blog @phantomram-b00 @crowleys-bentley-and-plants @charlotte-zophie @crowleys-curl @quoththemaiden @thewibblylever @genderqueer-hippie @lickthecowhappy @halcyonnnn @celestialcrowley

if anyone wants to be added/removed let me know

[staarboyyy]

supernova

depowered!homelander x reader | no pronouns

18+ characters / scenarios - minors dni

tags / warnings ; homelander reffered to as john, angst with a fluffy ending, domestic sweetness, anxiety attack, eating difficulties

summary ; john feels lost after losing his powers despite settling into a "normal" life with you.

word count ; 1k

a/n ; i posted this a while back to my old ao3 and wanted to put it here, please enjoy !

‘ When a massive star runs out of fuel, the force of gravity causes it to collapse on itself and explode. The stars' remains are fired across the galaxy at a speed of forty thousand kilometers per second. Entire galaxies are outshined by the death of one star - A supernova.’

    “Do you think I’m still - Me?”

   

    “What do you mean?”

John fell silent to this question, his eyes cascading slowly over the small apartment before him. It was nothing at all like his room in the tower. Empty, walls barren and painfully dull, the windows only give way to the falling sunset's leaking sunlight, furniture worn in and bought second hand. You pursed your lips as you watched him take in the room for the hundredth time today, his eyes tired and lost, heavy bags underneath the once glittering blue gaze you found yourself swimming in. With a sigh, you bring yourself closer to him on the couch, causing him to give a quick glance to you - John is still himself. Painfully so. Your hands were hesitant for a moment, raising to gently comb through his now fading hair, the dark brown blooming at the roots; Yet his tired eyes suddenly widening at your movement stopped you. He was defenseless, not having left the apartment you bought together for quite some time, losing the muscle mass he once flaunted with shameless pride. His posture had even changed, instead now slumping forward with his elbows resting on his knees, wearing loose pajamas you had brought him home. 

    “It’s all I ever was. So what am I now,”

    John began in a soft voice, his eyes faltering as they drew away from you, to your hands. In his mind, your hands looked different. Everything about you did. He took a slow inhale, the breath swelling in his chest in the same unfamiliar fashion it did since he lost his powers - Everything had become so much more delicate in his eyes; The first time he had helped bring in the couch, you two now sat on, he couldn’t bring it in on his own, and found himself soon weeping on the ground before you, hardly able to explain with words how pathetic he felt he had become. Useless in more ways than he could ever think. Even the small things, having to keep up with eating and drinking water, had become more of a challenge than he had anticipated, and it showed in how his fingers trembled. He so desperately wanted to be grateful when you reminded him, but he still seemed to have a glint of fierceness in his eyes when you did - How dare you assume you knew better than him? But now you had. You had come to know him more than anybody else in the world.

    “You’re here. With me. In a shitty one-bedroom apartment with terrible plumbing, and a t.v on the ground. But, you’re here still. If that was all you were, you wouldn’t still be here, you know?”

    Your words made his breathing hitch slightly, head falling to avoid your gaze - This was something he did far too often these days. Choosing to let the words fester angrily in his mind, the feeling of his lashes becoming wet from the absurd uncontrollable urge to cry, making his stomach turn nauseatingly. John hated crying more than any of the other traits that came with losing his sense of self. How the unbridled heat gathered tightly in his throat, unable to breathe through it how he normally would have. It’s suffocating how his breathing shakes, his hands clenching in feebly weak fists, nails digging hard into his palms. It hurts. Searing hot, the bubbling need to let a sob break from his chest seems to take over all other rational senses. A strangled gasp escaped him, your arms coming quickly to wrap over him as he shakes his head - He wants to pull away, to scream, to collapse to the floor and beg for whatever God there might be to take him back. To pull him back to the subconscious torture of being the face of America. 

    “I can’t protect you - I can’t even protect myself.”

    You held onto him still, your grasp firm in an attempt to ground him. The feeling of his panic rising made him feel absolutely sick. To experience adrenaline in a way he’s never felt or seen before, to feel the fear he once drank down in careless gasps - It made him feel glued to the spot, a deer in the headlights. Your arms felt strong, felt stable, and hard around him as you pulled him closer to your chest. For so long, John had been able to hear your heart from standing yards away, and now the rarity of it became one of a cherishable sound. His ear pressed against your chest, his breathing still faltering as he listened quietly, foreign tears lacing down his cheeks in slow streams, his eyes wrenched shut in an expression of agony. 

    “You’ve always protected me; You never needed powers to do that. You make me feel safer than anyone, even now. Especially now.”

    John’s eyes slowly opened at this, the sound of your steady heart filling his head, silencing his own thundering one. To him, protection had always been dependent on his strength over others, mind, and body. How he was so easily able to twist words, make others blood run cold with just the sound of his voice or a squeeze of his gloved fist. His eyebrow twitched, lips moving briefly to form words that refused to leave his now swimming mind. He looked nearly confused at how you could so easily speak to him despite your shifting expression of furrowed brows, eyes warm and sympathetic. Normally, John would have jumped at this type of rumbling fear, using it to fuel the continuing power he bathed in - But instead, he slowly raised his hand to meet your cheek. It used to feel so malleable underneath his fingers, yet the warmth spread over his palm now, gently moving across the soft skin with a soft rumbled exhale from his lips. 

    “You promise?”

    “I promise.”

    And then for just a fleeting moment, his breathing calmed. Everything felt safe in this moment, his hand on your face, gently clutching you in hopes of not losing you. Never losing you.

[saltnsugarbear]

put her canine teeth in the side of my neck!

summary: your babysitter - your girlfriend is a vampire!

title from: "Red Wine Supernova" by Chappell Roan

word count: 0.7k

content warnings: vampire shit, little smidgen of angst maybe but mostly fluff!!

side note: sigh, The Vampire Diaries-Shameless au you will be loved by me. everyone say thank you to mouse for preventing me from re-firing this

divider by @strangergraphics

You found out Fiona was a vampire all on your own.

It was very messy. The thing that confused you in the beginning was how she managed to go out in the daylight.

She explained it to you, told you Veronica's secret of being a witch, and how she had charmed Fiona's bracelet to protect her.

Finding out the supernatural actually existed made you question everything. Veronica was a witch, Kevin's a werewolf, Fiona's siblings had the potential to become werewolves themselves. Fiona was very patient, explaining it all to you, explaining how rodent blood wasn't ideal, but it's not as if she could just find blood bags in the supermarket.

When you offered yourself up as a source, Fiona laughed you off. Told you she would never do that to you. But you saw the flicker in her eyes at the thought, the primal look she got.

Not much of your dynamic changed, Fiona was less secretive about things, telling you openly when she would be out to feed. She seemed lighter after you found out, less worried about how you would react now that you already knew.

What did change was your commentary when you talked during your shared TV time after the kids went to bed. Making snide comments about vampires when they showed up, how it wasn't at all accurate to the vampire you lived with.

Fiona always gives you the same reaction, rolling her eyes and kissing you softly, sometimes giving a soft nip at your lower lip. You knew she enjoyed your antics, glad you were so relaxed about her being a vampire.

"You're such a weirdo," Fiona tells you, petting your hair softly.

"These people just don't know what it's like being with a real vampire.. Not as scary as they try and make 'em.." You tell her softly, resting your head against her chest. "'S like leaving with a big ol' puppy.."

Your mutter is soft as you press your face against her shirt.

Fiona scoffs slightly, "A big puppy that could kill you.."

You hum softly, "But you wouldn't.... Know you wouldn't.."

Fiona doesn't respond, letting the both of you lay in silence as you watch the show unfold.

Once it's done, Fiona is still silent as you sit up and pat around for the remote. Your girlfriend stays where she is while you find it, clicking out of the next episode before it begins. The TV clicks softly as you turn it off, leaning back and study Fiona.

"What're you thinking about?" You ask her softly, tapping against the leg in your lap.

"Just thinking.." She pushes herself up, coming into your personal space. She nudges her nose to yours gently before she gives you a soft kiss.

The kiss is smooth and gentle, communicating something you can't name. You're the first to pull away, needing to catch your breath.

"Yeah, but what are y'thinking about?" You ask her.

You watch her sigh softly, her eyes shifting down to her lap. You can't help the way you reach for her hand, wanting to connect to her more than you already are.

"You really trust me not to hurt you?" Fiona leans her head to the side, resting against the back of the couch. Her brown eyes are soft and wide as she looks at you.

"Yeah, course, Fi.." You tell her, watching her as you speak. "Trust you with everything. To protect me, be gentle, trust you forever.."

"Forever's a long time.." She tells you, her mouth twisting to the side softly.

"Not long enough. Will trust you till we're long buried in the dirt.." You rub your thumb over her knuckles gently.

Fiona breathes heavily as she looks between your eyes, looking for any shred of a lie.

"Forever is not long enough, Fi.. Not long enough for how much time I want to spend with you. Want to meet you in every lifetime." You say softly.

You watch as tears collect along Fiona's lash line.

"Babe..." Fiona says softly.

"Love you, Fi... Fangs and all.." You press a quick kiss to her lips, moving quickly to kiss her cheek and then her other until you're peppering her face with kisses.

When you kiss over her eyelids, she starts giggling, grabbing your shirt to pull her impossibly closer to her.

Fiona ends up convincing you to stay on the couch, not being bothered to move both of you upstairs.

And that's how the kids find you, bathed in morning light, pressed together under the blankets. Completely content.